Mission Impossible (Scete)

Mission Impossible - Scete (Scomo x Pete)

"Scomo... I thought I'd never see you again," Pete snarled, turning his nose up at the dilf like prime minister.

"Pete. I would say the same to you, mate, but somehow I always knew you'd be back here."

Pete stifled a laugh, pacing back and forward in a half hearted attempt to circle his enemy.

"Haven't you got a country to run?"

Scomo chuckled, "they don't put their faith in me anymore. After, well, you know... yeah nah mate, they don't give a bloody fuck about old mate."

Pete's footsteps slowed. The prime minister's office seemed bigger than before, even though it wasn't.

"You seem different."

"It's been years since the last time."

"No, you're acting like a... what do they call it in your country?"

"A bogan?"

"Yes. A bogan. You're acting like a bogan."

Scomo laughed again at this. God, this American cunt was so stupid.

"You know nothing about me."

Pete stopped. Now that he thought about it, maybe he did know nothing about his enemy. Pete's philosophy had always been that people never really change inside; they come and go as the seasons but at the core nobody really shifts.

But the question then was, did he really ever know Australia's PM? Did he really know this dilf inside and out? Or did he only ever know what he had been told?

Scomo noticed Pete's hesitation, his train of thought. He coughed, and silently Pete cursed him because of course, of course he knew Pete.

"This is too... one sided. This isn't fair," Pete said, sounding like a child yet keeping his bitch faced exterior.

Scomo raised an eyebrow, but Pete didn't elaborate. He didn't have to.

"You need to learn to know your enemies," Scomo began, leaning back on his chair and cracking his knuckles on his desk. Pete's scowl ran deeper.

"I know my enemies perfectly well, thanks. I was trained, you know. And you're easy, you're predictable - I knew you were going to say that. You... cunt."

"Now I wouldn't have predicted you'd say that," Scomo joked. Pete resisted the urge to grit his teeth.

He was winding the shorter man up, yes, but Pete couldn't help but get annoyed by his lighthearted nature to the situation. They were enemies, and Scomo should have been standing up there, just as sour faced as Pete. After all, this was an interrogation - or at least it was meant to be. He picked up his pacing again.

"Why did they let you in my office, anyway?"

It was Pete's turn to laugh.

"I come here on business when you're away. I'm basically," he stopped right in front of the desk, leaning down to be at eye level with the PM, "a regular."

Pete's body ran through the rest on autopilot. Stand up, turn away, crack a smile, keep pacing. Easy as. And that was how he charmed his enemies after a rocky start.

Scomo just shrugged, annoying Pete. This was not the reaction he was meant to get.

A moment of silence, a moment of bickering, all the while Pete ran tracks in the carpet.

"You're right," he said suddenly, causing the leader to cock his head in confusion, "you're right. I don't know you. Honestly."

Scomo laughed, "of bloody course you don't, mate. Nobody really knows me, not even the ones who think they do. I'm much more than an old oaf running the country."

Pete's lips thinned. How the hell was this man mysterious? Pete had known tricksters and sly dogs in all his time as a half-spy half-bassist; but of all his enemies none had been quite so deceiving as Scomo.

"I mean," Scomo continued, standing up and circling around his desk to stand in front of the other man, looking down, "you could, you know, if you... are in the mood."

And oh my fucking god, the shorter one thought, was the prime minister of Australia trying to seduce The Pete Wentz? Pete took a step back, half backing away but half checking out the man. If he was, you know, making advances, at least he was kind of hot. In a strange old politician type way.

"But, you, your family, you know-"

"Dont have to know," they greying man cut Pete off, "I run this - I own this country, mate. I can do what I want."

His assertiveness and disregard shocked Pete yet... electrified him. He had always been one for the bad boys and dilfs - and here was the two in one, Scomo.

"I mean. I can't say no to that," and it was autopilot again; the wink, the hand around his waist, the leaning in to make out with Australia's PM.

Mission complete.