I'm Sorry Every Song's About You

Chapter 7

My eyes were droopy and I couldn't think straight. I groaned. We had been in this stupid van all day and I needed a proper place to sleep. Outside, huge flakes of snow fell after the sun set. It was 9pm and Pete was driving, Joe in the passenger seat. Patrick was in the middle row with Brendon and Ryan, which meant I was stuck with my brother and Frank.

"Frank, could you stop fucking giggling, dude?" Joe snapped from the front of the van.

"I highly doubt whatever Gerard is saying is that funny," Ryan mumbled in his boyfriend's lap, running his fingers along Brendon's cheek. Frank scoffed and Gerard wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

I cupped my cheek in my hand, sighing dramatically.

"Mikey, play me back on words with friends," Gerard whined, sprawling his legs out on my lap, head on Frank's thigh. He had been messing around on his phone for an hour or so.

"You're a fuckin' loser," Frank teased, softly yanking on Gerard's hair and I watched in disgust as my brother let out a shaky breath, eyes half lidded. That was not something I'd like to think about.

"Can we turn in for the night?" Brendon yawned childishly, nose scrunching up.

"I am in favor of that idea," Gerard mumbled, Frank's hand still tangled in his black, greasy hair. He hummed, arms above his head, fiddling with the jacket Frank was wearing. Pete sighed from the front seat, peaking at everyone through the rearview mirror. He caught my eye and quickly looked back at the road.

The snow outside was thick and falling rapidly. I felt a tiny, tired smile spread across my lips, really fucking excited to sleep in a proper bed. I glanced at Gerard beside me, who had fallen asleep on Frank's lap, mouth open wide and cheek smushed in his upper thigh. His legs were still resting on mine, awkward sprawled out. Frank was watching him closely, fingers tracing down my brother's side slowly until his hand rested on his hip. He toyed with the waistband of Gerard's sweatpants and I tore my eyes away.

"Pete," I heard Patrick whisper, "You need to take this exit up here."

"I know, Pat," he replied, driving with one hand on the wheel while the other rubbed his right eye. His fingers ran over his bottom lip and he picked the skin there. I watched, a little enthralled. I blinked a couple of times, fighting to stay awake but I soon slipped into unconsciousness.

...
"Mikes," a voice said gently, slapping my cheek softly, "we're here, it's time to get up." My eyes fluttered open wearily, and I waited for them to focus. There was a hand running through my hair and it felt absolutely amazing. I grinned, and my eyes fell closed again. "No no no, c'mon. Ya gotta get up," the same voice whispered. I groaned, rolling over.

"Go away, I'm tired."

"Mikey." This time I opened my eyes at the sound of my name. My heart stuttered. It was Pete looking down at me. "It's midnight, you gotta get out of the car," he told me before yawning, adorably scrunching his nose as he did. I smiled lazily. I made grabby hands at him and he giggled.

"Carry me, please," I requested, tugging Pete's shirt. He rolled his eyes at me and shook his head.

"No way in hell," he answered and I pouted. "If I carry you, I will drop you," he said sternly. I made an annoyed face. He sighed, and I then noticed that he was shivering. The idiot forgot a jacket. I pulled myself up, bumping my head into his. We both winced and Pete climbed out of the car. I stumbled out after him.

"Pete, you forgot a coat, you loser," I teased, bumping his shoulder. He bumped back and smiled.

"I could push you into that pile of snow. I'm not afraid of you, mikeyway," he replied, and I grinned at the use of my nickname.

"Whatever," I rolled my eyes before feeling myself violently shoved into a thick blanket of glistening snow. "You asshole!" I gasped, glaring up at Pete. I hurriedly got up, my jeans and light jacket filled with snow. Pete was laughing his ass off and it was my turn to push him backwards. I watched as he flailed, falling into the snow behind him.

"Mikey!" he whined, immediately getting up and trying to shake off the freezing snow. He started shivering, but still mustered up the strength to reach down with his bare hands to pick up some snow. My eyes widened as he balled it up and threw it right at my face before I had time to react. I stood there, eyes squeezed shut and gaping. I wiped the snow off my face and scowled. Pete grinned cheekily at me.

I ran forward, tackling him, and he made an odd noise as I felt on top of him. I smiled down, using my hands to support my weight. I could see our breaths mingling in the crisp air.

"Fucker," he whispered, reaching up to card a hand through my hair. I leaned into his touch, eyes sliding shut. I felt my nose bump against his as I leaned down and our foreheads pressed together. My hands were going numb and my head was spinning and I opened my eyes to catch him staring at me. He had a soft smile on his lips but his eyes looked sad. I wanted to kiss his pain away.

"Pete," I finally whispered back, mouth brushing his, "I really wanna fucking kiss you." He frowned.

"I know," he said softly, rolling me off him.

"I like you," I stated, and Pete looked over at me, snowflakes in his hair, snowflakes on his eyelashes, and heartbreak in his tone. "I like you so much it hurts," I continued, voice cracking.

"Don't say that," he begged, and I turned away, picking at the sleeve of my jacket. "Mikey," he pleaded, "look at me." I shook my head, getting up and brushing off the snow. I was shivering violently, not really sure if it was from the cold or the anger building up inside. Pete stood up.

"I don't wanna fucking hear whatever fake-ass excuse you have for me. If you don't like me, then why did you kiss me and act like nothing happened? Why would you ever lead someone on like that?" I snarled at him, voice raising. Tears welled up in his eyes and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"It's not like that! Mikey, I'm so fucked up, I don't want you to go through a messy relationship. Goddammit, you're 16!"

"That is such bullshit, Pete, and you know it!"

"I can't help that I'm sad!"

"Being sad doesn't justify being an asshole!" I screamed at him, hot tears falling from my eyes. He was sobbing now, eyes red and puffy. He reached for my arm, but I pushed him away. "Don't fucking touch me," I hissed, and a figure behind Pete squirmed. I looked over his shoulder.

Gerard. Fucking Gerard was standing there, eyes wide. He kept opening and closing his mouth. "We were just wondering where you guys, uh, were," he announced awkwardly, shifting his gaze between us. I sighed, wiping at my eyes. "Is everything okay?" he asked slowly.

"Yep, everything is perfect," I grimaced, pushing past Pete and walking towards the shitty motel building. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in the shower," I called over my shoulder, not bothering to look back.

...
(i was seriously considering a scenario where pete and mikey kissed but this happened instead)