Chapter Text
'Belleville High. Big, loud, obnoxious; I fucking hate this place.' Pete thought to himself, taking his cigarette box out of his pocket and carefully pulling one out, placing it between his teeth, and covering it with his hand to light it. It was quite windy outside. It was true, though. Pete really did hate this school. He hated everything in it. Well, almost everything. He rolled his eyes obnoxiously, watching all the kids pass by as he smoked. His eyes flickered for a moment when he saw Mikey. He only knew his name because he’d overheard some kids talking about him in gym class. They were making fun of him for being so scrawny. They said he couldn’t kick a ball to save his life. They were probably right, but it still annoyed Pete to think about.
Pete heard the loud buzz of the warning bell and groaned to himself. He tossed his cigarette out to the concrete, kicking it a little with his foot to put it out before stepping inside. He glanced around for a moment, and his eyes seemed to lock on Mikey automatically. It was like he had scanners in his eyes that looked for Mikey in every room. It could be annoying, sometimes, but he still smiled to himself when he saw Mikey laughing with his friends. His smile was so stupid. Pete loved it.
After a moment of weird, stalkerish staring, Pete saw Mikey walking in his direction and quickly ducked behind a corner, pretending to drink out of the old, rusted water fountain. Their school really did not offer much for a private school that should have a bunch of money. They did have a bunch of snobby, rich kids' parents paying them, after all. He glanced around anxiously for a moment, hoping Mikey hadn’t seen him being completely weird. When he finally deemed the coast to be clear, he walked back around the corner, glancing at Mikey once more before heading to his first class of the day.
Class felt miserably long. Not only because Pete hated school and had no desire to actually listen to the boring lectures that were being given out every single day, but also because he couldn’t get his mind off Mikey the entire time. What was it about this kid?
Then, as if a cartoon light bulb had just materialized atop his head, he got, what felt like to him, the most brilliant idea he had ever come up with. He flipped to an empty page in his notebook, opening the book for the first time since he had gotten to class (despite the fact that he was supposed to be taking notes the entire time), and he scribbled something random onto it. The first thing he could come up with. It read: “I saw you laughing with your friends, your smile is heaven-sent.”
He thought for a moment and decided to scribble that first part out, realizing it definitely made him sound like a stalker. He kept the second part in, though. Eventually, he decided to write a new note altogether. He didn’t want the scribbles to be visible. “Your smile is heaven-sent.”
He smiled a little to himself, carefully cutting the note out of his notebook and shoving it in his pocket. He sat patiently as he waited for the bell to ring, a little anxious as well. He was just in the middle of anxiously bouncing his leg and biting his pencil when the bell finally rang, and he practically jumped out of his seat, almost forgetting his bag when he went to run out of the classroom.
He already knew where Mikey’s locker was. He had seen the scrawny boy lingering near it in passing enough times to recognize it. Locker 23. He made his way to the locker and pulled the carefully folded note out of his pocket. He hesitated for a moment and just stood in front of this random guy’s locker, looking like a creep. Eventually, he realized that he looked like a creep, and didn’t wanna be caught by Mikey or any of his friends, so he quickly slipped the note into the locker and walked around the corner. He bit his bottom lip so hard it bled a little as he waited around the corner to see if Mikey would come to his locker and read the note.
He never came.
Pete sighed and slumped his shoulders. He groaned when he licked his lips and realized that they were bleeding. He should’ve known Mikey wasn’t coming. He knows his schedule. He knows he doesn’t stop by his locker until after 3rd period. He just got excited.
Pete found himself anxiously waiting around for his next 2 class periods. He couldn’t stop bouncing his leg and sweating. If he had issues focusing before, he definitely had issues now. He wished he could just learn Mikey’s locker combination and take the note out. He felt like such a loser. He was even writing Mikey’s name in the corners of his notebooks with little hearts drawn around them while he was supposed to be taking notes. I mean, come on. Losers do that. Pete was such a loser.
After what felt like a lifetime, 2nd/3rd period finally came and went. His next class was all the way across the school. Usually, he had to rush from his 3rd period straight to 4th, and he still wouldn’t make it in time, no matter how fast he ran. This time, though, he had something far more important to attend to. He already knew he was going to be tardy to 4th period anyway, as aforementioned; what’s a few more minutes?
He waited around a corner, anxiously biting the insides of his cheeks as he waited for Mikey to come to his locker. This time he did. He watched Mikey put in his locker combination and open his locker, to which the note fluttered out. He watched Mikey look at the note in confusion, and open it so carefully you would think he thought there was a bomb inside of it. A million different scenarios ran through his head. He expected Mikey to make a weird face, or not make a face at all, and just toss the note right into the trash. Or maybe he’d think it was terribly weird and switch lockers. Maybe he’d show it to his friends, and they’d all laugh, or maybe he’d just think it was dumb. What he didn’t expect to see was Mikey opening the note, reading it thoughtfully, and smiling a little as he read it. Pete could’ve sworn he even saw him blush a little.
Maybe this really was a good idea after all.
- - -
Later that day, at lunch, Pete was sitting with Patrick, but he couldn’t keep his eyes away from Mikey.
“Dude, he’s never gonna notice you. Quit eye-fucking him, would you?” Patrick remarked, snickering a little.
“Hey! I am not-” Pete tries to reply, but is cut off when Andy sits down at the table with them.
“Totally eye-fucking him.” Andy retorts.
Pete just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. Mikey had noticed him. He already had. I mean, sure, it was just one note, and he had no idea who wrote it…but it made him smile. Pete had successfully made Mikey smile. For that, he decided to feel proud.
He explained his whole genius plan to his lunch group, making sure to specifically mention that he had seen Mikey blush, and he watched the entire group roll their eyes and groan at Pete’s disparity.
“Dude, he did not fucking blush,” Patrick stated matter-of-factly.
“He totally did! How would you know, you weren’t even there! You don’t know what I saw.” Pete crossed his arms again, crossing his legs this time as well. He knew what he saw. He couldn’t help but feel like the boy who cried wolf, still. This wasn’t the first time he had become painfully obsessed with some random hallway crush, but it had never been like this before. This time was different. Pete didn’t exactly realize it yet, but everyone around him had already noticed. Patrick and Andy exchanged worrying glances with each other, practically having an entire conversation with only their eyes. Pete wasn’t looking, but if he was, he would probably imagine it going something like this:
‘Dude, have you ever seen him like this before?’
‘No, man, it’s really weird.’
‘Right? I mean, his crush on that one dude was intense, but he’s never slipped love notes into somebody’s locker and ducked around the corner to gauge their reaction.’
‘And he has a plan to continue doing this. I mean, that’s not Pete.’
‘No..no it’s not.’
Pete finally glances up at the two and sees them staring at each other, making weird faces. “Now you guys are the ones eye-fucking.” He laughs a little at his own dumb joke, and they both break their gazes immediately.
“Aw, dude, gross!” Andy replies. Pete and Patrick both just laugh again.
“Seriously, though, as much of a loser as he may be, you’re an even bigger loser. He is never even gonna look in your direction, Pete. We don’t wanna watch you get bummed out again like last time. You were so lame for like a whole month over some guy you never even talked to more than like twice.” Patrick stated. Pete just sighed and turned away, his eyes finding their way back to Mikey again.
- - -
Pete is starting to realize… he may just be really fucking bad at this. He sighed, rubbing his face in his hands, trying desperately to just focus on his homework and get Mikey’s face out of his head. But he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about Mikey’s face. His stupid smile that Pete adored so much, the way his face curved when he smiled, and he had such apparent smile lines despite seeming to never smile more than once a day. He thought about how perfect his eyebrows were, and how he looked like an idiot wearing his glasses over his hair. He couldn’t stop thinking about every detail of Mikey’s face. He wondered what the details looked like up close; what details he may not even know about yet because he’s always kept 6 feet worth of distance between him and Mikey.
He couldn’t stop his mind from racing about Mikey, which was making his heart race too. He pulled his phone out to open Instagram. Back when Pete first noticed Mikey in the halls and became utterly obsessed with him, Patrick had dug through social media to find Mikey’s Instagram for Pete. Pete never followed Mikey; he was always too afraid. But he liked to look through his pictures sometimes. He thought maybe, if he could just quickly look through some of Mikey’s pictures, maybe that would help his mind stop racing.
He loaded up Mikey’s profile, glancing through his most recent posts. He saw a couple of Mikey and his brother - or who he assumed to be his brother, anyway. There were a few with another one of his friends, with longer, curly hair. Some with another guy with shorter dark hair and a lip ring, and there was one friend who showed up occasionally, not as much, with short blonde hair and a lip ring. He searched until he found a post with nobody else in it, just Mikey. It was a collection of about 5 photos. They looked like candids that had been taken that Mikey deemed presentable enough to post on their own. Pete stared for a long moment, biting his bottom lip. He felt his face and his chest go hot. His breath got heavier, and blood started to flow down to places that were not ideal for the moment.
“Shit,” Pete swore under his breath.
Without thinking too hard, he slid his hand down to his crotch. His breath hitched immediately when he felt the pressure, so he unbuttoned his tight, skinny jeans, unzipping them slowly, and sliding his hand down gently.
He rubbed himself softly, feeling the pleasure building immediately. He bit down on his shirt to silence himself, and started rubbing a little faster than before. He let out a few throaty groans here and there, trying his best to stay as quiet as possible. As the pleasure continued to grow, he continued to quicken his pace. He felt his legs starting to shake, and he knew the release was coming soon. He bit down as hard as he could on his shirt, rolling his eyes and tilting his head backwards. His legs were shaking so hard they sounded like they were beating on the ground, but he couldn’t bother to care right now. He closed his eyes, and let himself finish.
He leaned back where he was sitting, a warm calm washing over his body. He got so calm that he accidentally let his phone collapse to the floor. The clatter startled him, making him jump a little. He scrambled to zip his pants back up and pick the phone up, and that’s when he saw that Mikey’s face was still on the screen. Only then did the wave of partial guilt hit him. He didn’t even know this guy’s last name. He didn’t know anything about him. He had never spoken to him before. Unless, of course, you count the one note he left in his locker. He sighed hard, leaning back in his chair and letting himself close his eyes.
- - -
Pete was startled awake to the sound of his siblings running into his room to call him down for dinner. He groaned loudly and rubbed his eyes, making his way downstairs to eat dinner he never even asked for. He hated how mandatory meals felt in his house. He hated most things. He made a mental list in his head of all the things he hated as he groggily walked down the steps.
‘Country music, Disney, fairytales, bullies, Patrick’s ex-boyfriend, Subway sandwiches, obnoxious fangirls, cheesy Hallmark movies, new year's resolutions, candles, snobby rich kids, loud cars, uneven skateboards -’
“Peter, how nice of you to join us for dinner,” His father remarked, as if he ever had a choice in the first place. He didn’t have a choice any other night; he didn’t have a choice tonight; he wouldn’t have a choice tomorrow. Pete never got to make any of his own choices, it seemed.
He would choose Mikey. That’s a choice he would make. He would choose Mikey through thick and thin, sickness and health, whatever else those stupid wedding vows said that Pete hated so much because he thought they were dumb and held no real value. He made a note to add that to the list of things he hated.
Pete scoffed lightly and took his plate from his mother. He hated being mean to her; he knew she only ever had the best intentions, but he was a teenage boy. Teenage boys are moody and angry all the time. He was sure she understood.
When he sat down at the table, his father turned to him. “Any new girls in your life, or just Patrick?” He wondered.
“What does Patrick have to do with anything?” Pete questioned, a hint of attitude shining through his voice as he forced himself to shovel down whatever his mom had made for dinner.
“That kid looks like a girl.” His father remarked, keeping his voice steady. This obviously annoyed Pete. His mom knew that, and she turned to him with a caring look in her eyes and a face that told Pete that she really didn’t want this dinner to end in another argument.
Pete tried. He really, really tried. He loved his mom, and he knew how much she hated the fighting, but he couldn’t stand the way his dad talked about his friends, and the way he constantly asked him about girls.
Pete had tried to come out to his dad. A few times. It wasn’t that it ever ended poorly; it never resulted in a fight, it just ended with… nothing. His dad always pretended to listen and understand what he was saying, but in the end, he never actually treated Pete like he was gay. Granted, Pete wasn’t really sure how you’re supposed to “treat someone like they’re gay,” but he was sure asking them about girls definitely wasn’t a great start.
So, dinner ended in a fight. Just like it always did. It ended with Pete slamming his fist on the table and punching the wall on his way upstairs. He felt bad about it. Not that he cared about hurting his dad, but he felt bad as he remembered how hard his mom tried to mediate, and how badly she just wanted one good family dinner. She did try. She tried really, really hard. She would make foods that she knew both Pete and his dad shared a liking for, or she would play music that she thought would help keep the calm. She would sometimes try to bring up topics that they both enjoyed or fun family memories. But it never worked. Pete never expected it to, but he felt bad that his mom always did.
“I wish she would just give up,” Pete told Patrick over the phone as he wrapped his hand gently in gauze and realized how poorly his phrasing had come off. “I mean, after so many fights, she has to realize at some point that it’s just never gonna happen.”
Patrick grunted a little on the other end of the phone. “I wish you’d stop fucking up your hand.” He chuckled a little. “I mean, your dad’s a dick. We know this. You don’t have to go punching walls just because he can’t fathom asking you about guys rather than girls.”
“But it was more than that, Patrick,” Pete sighed. “He was saying things about you guys, too. He said you looked like a girl.”
“Really?” Patrick asked, his voice coming off a little more enthusiastic than he had anticipated. “I mean, I don’t mind, dude, honestly.”
“I know you don’t,” Pete winced a little when he pulled the gauze too tightly around his hand. “That doesn’t make it any less annoying. I mean, he can be a dick to me, that’s fine, but why does he feel the need to drag you guys into it too?”
“Because you don’t react to him anymore. He knows that being a dick to you isn’t enough anymore, because you’ve heard it all a million times before, but he knows mentioning us will make you mad,” Patrick sighs, rubbing his temples a little. “He’s just a bully, Pete. You need to stop giving him what he wants.”
Pete rolled his eyes and scoffed. He knew Patrick was right. “You should’ve heard the things he was saying, man.”
“I know, Pete, I know,” Patrick reassured. He probably hated Pete’s dad just as much as Pete did.
“Can I just come over to yours?” Pete asked while thinking about how amazing Patrick’s mom’s cooking was. He finished wrapping his hand and rolled over on his bed. He could already feel his stomach growling at the thought of eating dinner at Patrick’s. He had only gotten 2 bites of his dinner before storming upstairs.
Patrick sighed a little. “My mom’s been asking when you’d be coming again, anyway. She loves how highly you talk about her cooking.” He laughed.
Pete laughed and hung up the phone without another word. He quickly walked to the opposite end of his room, slipping into his beat-up Vans and quietly opening his window to sneak out of it. The second-story jump was honestly nothing to him. He had done it plenty of times before. He didn’t necessarily have to sneak out the window; he just didn’t wanna deal with the annoyance of facing his family on his way out the front door. It was better this way.
He rode his skateboard all the way to Patrick’s house, which didn’t take him too long. He knew the route like the back of his hand. Some weeks, it felt like he was at Patrick’s house more than his own. Sometimes he wished Patrick’s family were his. He did love his mom, but he didn’t love his dad. Sometimes it felt like his mom didn’t even love his dad. He shook his head a little, wanting these thoughts to go away. He felt so guilty for thinking this way; he just really, really hated his dad.
“Hey, man!” Pete yelled enthusiastically, pretending to care about Patrick for a moment before immediately walking past him and pulling his mom into a hug.
“Peter! I’ve been wondering when you’d come over again! My cooking has been waiting for you!” Patrick’s mom remarked happily. Pete just smiled and hugged her tighter, then walked over to the dinner table. He always sat in the same spot every time he joined them for dinner, and his mom must’ve hoped he would be coming, because she had already fixed him a plate at his usual seat. Pete smiled and sat down in his spot. He immediately started scarfing down his plate before anybody else even had a chance to sit down at the table with him.
Pete looked up with a slightly guilty looking expression on his face when he saw everybody else slowly making their way over to the table as well. He felt like a zoo animal. But it was okay. They knew him here.
“So, Peter, anything interesting to talk about? Any new boys in your life?” Patrick’s mom inquired, raising an eyebrow slightly.
“Oh my God, mom, stop!” Patrick retorted, shoving her playfully.
Pete just laughed a little, then tried to hide the small smile appearing on his face. “There is one..”
“No, mom, don’t listen to him. The guy doesn’t even know Pete’s name.” Patrick let out a stifled laugh. Pete just rolled his eyes and continued eating.
“Peter is great. I’m sure whoever this guy is will know his name soon enough.” His mom smiled a little as she argued in Pete’s defense. Pete just smiled again, feeling his face going slightly pink. He explained his entire plan to her, detailing how he was leaving notes in Mikey’s locker.
“Like a secret admirer?” She wondered.
“Yes! Oh, I hadn’t even thought of it that way! Yes, I guess it would be that, then, wouldn’t it?” Pete smiled, suddenly feeling much more genius for this plan that he had come up with.
“It’s never gonna work…” He heard Patrick mumble under his breath. Pete just rolled his eyes again and swatted the air in his direction.
“Ass.” He mumbled back to Patrick under his breath, then he saw Patrick’s mom giving him a loving death glare. “Sorry, Mrs. Stump…”
She just laughed. “Haven’t you known me long enough to just call me by my name?”
“I’d rather call you mom than ever call you by your first name,” Pete remarked. The whole table just started giggling.
After dinner, Pete and Patrick both headed up to Patrick’s room, assuming that Pete would be staying the night without it ever having to be formally established. Pete took his shoes and sweater off, making himself comfortable on Patrick’s bed and sighing hopelessly when he thought about Mikey again.
“Pete,” Patrick started. “I did some digging…”
Pete raised an eyebrow. “On?”
“Mikey.” Pete instantly became intrigued when he heard Mikey’s name, and he sat up to look at Patrick.
“Yeah?” Pete could already feel himself starting to blush and smile.
“Pete,” Patrick sighed heavily, rubbing his face in his hands. “Mikey likes girls.”
“Oh,” Pete felt a lump in his throat, and laid back down on the bed. “Oh.”
“I’m sorry, man.” Patrick sighed again. “Please don’t get all weird again.”
“Are you sure? How do you know?”
“He’s been seen with tons of girls; at school, posting them on his socials… he’s into girls, man.”
“He could be bi,” Pete was looking for any excuse at this point. “Nobody knew you were bi. I mean, you dated tons of girls.”
“Pete..” Patrick started, but decided this was a useless argument. Nothing was gonna change Pete’s mind when he had already set it in stone. “Yeah. Sure. Maybe you’re right.”
Pete stared up at the ceiling from where he was lying and smiled to himself a little. He was right. He knew he was right. He had to be. Right?
- - -
The next day at school, Pete couldn’t wait for the passing between 3rd and 4th period. He had gotten straight to work that morning, writing a few separate notes so he had some stored to slip into Mikey’s locker later. The one he had chosen to slip in this morning read: “You are so beautiful. I hope you know it, too.”
He waited patiently around the corner, as he did the day before, watching for Mikey’s reaction. He watched Mikey walk up to his locker, and he watched the note flutter out and into Mikey’s hands as it had previously. Mikey had smiled a little to himself before even unfolding the note, as if he were already anticipating it to be good because it had been good the day before. Pete felt proud of this. Seeing Mikey smile when he hadn’t even opened the note yet, Pete knew that his plan was going to work. Mikey unfolded the note slowly, and his face held an even bigger smile when he read it. He definitely blushed this time. Pete knew it.
“He definitely blushed this time,” Pete told Patrick at their lunch table, later that day. Patrick just scoffed and rolled his eyes dramatically.
“Dude, I can promise you he did not,” Patrick replied immediately.
Just then, Andy sat his tray down on the table and sat next to Patrick. “He definitely did not.”
“Do you purposely show up just in time to shit on me every single day?” Pete rolled his eyes dramatically and leaned back, crossing his arms.
“I certainly try,” Andy replied with a snarky smile on his face. Pete just rolled his eyes again. There was a long silence that stretched out for a moment as the three boys enjoyed their school lunch. Well, maybe enjoyed wasn’t the right word. The food was terrible. But they were all starving, so they ate it anyway. They were all broke, so they’d take what they could get. Pete glanced over at Mikey sitting adjacent to him, at his table with all of his friends that he had seen previously on his Instagram. He and his friends could all afford the good lunches. They were all laughing together and enjoying their food. There was that stupid smile Pete couldn’t get enough of…
This boy was going to make Pete crazy. He already was making him crazy. Pete needed him like he needed air to breathe, or at least that was what it felt like. He needed to touch him, feel him, taste him, love him. He wanted to do everything with him. He wanted to know his friends, and his family, and learn to love them, too, so he could get closer to Mikey. He felt like he wanted to claw his skin off every time he thought about how badly he just wanted to be near Mikey already; to kiss him, and hold him, and call him his. He wanted to belong to Mikey. He wanted to fall asleep next to him while he whispered sweet nothings in his ears, and he wanted to roll over every morning to find that he had woken up next to him.
This was going to kill him.