PUSH ME (PETEKY)

StEAMy BuT NOt ToO sTeAMy Actually not steamy at all.

It turned out that damage could be done because Pete was cling and we he found himself walking out of this classroom with his backpack hung loosely over one shoulder, his tie undone and hanging around his neck and his favourite teacher at his side, he was overjoyed and his jittery excitement made him jump about slightly.

Slightly meaning he had a small amount of pep in his step, meaning he was almost skipping.

His hands swinging and occasionally, and totally accidental brushing Mr.Way's hand like he wasn't his teacher and Pete was  an uncomfortable uniform-wearing toad next to a literal godess- because gender roles aren't required when praising someone on their physical attraction.

"So Pete, do you happen to do anything other than attend one class a day?" Mr.Way seemed genuinely interested in what Pete liked to do in his spare time, unfortunately Pete didn't actually do much,

"Uh, I tend to consume over my body weight in pizza and sleep that horrifying amount off."

"Pete, really?" Mr.Way sighed, seemingly unsurprised but needlessly exhausted with his answer...

"This issue is it gets progressively worse. As I am determined to eat over my body weight that weight increases for each day I find it harder to match that weight. It's a complicated procedure and requires my skill than it seems."

"I find myself surprisingly amused by your passion for eating pizza."

"What do you like to do Mr.Way?"

"I like to play bass guitar and avoid letting my mind wander to that walking with you out of school hours is very inappropriate."

"Bass guitar eh?" Pete elected to ignore the last part of Mr.Way's sentence because he didn't think that any part of their current situation was inappropriate.

"If you ask me to play for you I'll give you a detention for being dreadfully uncreative."

"That's a pity because that's exactly what I was going to ask."

"A pity for you, and for me because know it seems I'll think of you when I play bass and that isn't the goal."

"To think of me?"

"To not think of you become considering your hand has brushed mine at least twice in this 10 minute walk I'm going have to bring up the term 'vastly inappropriate' again."

"I am sorry about the other day."

"I should say that it was vastly inappropriate because it was but I can't say it was a happy surprise."

And an unhappy surprise was that they had reached Pete's street, and he said so,

"You live down here?" Mr.Way was particularly inquisitive.

"Yup! Number 37."

"I live in the apartment block on the corner." Mr. Way pointed at the horrible eyesore he called home.

"And the plot thickens." Pete was joking but he also wasn't because the plot had thickened and Pete was overjoyed.

"Goodnight Pete." And just as Mr.Way turned around Pete looked around quickly and saw the clear street and decided that if he gave all his f*cks away before than he could do it again and kissed Mr.Way's cheek.

But in his haste he kind of missed and landed his lips somewhere between Mr.Way's cheek and lips then he just threw his non-existent f*cks to the wind and shifted laughter to kiss Mr.Way on the lips briefly before hurrying home to go burry himself in a puddle of teenaged feelings.

Unfortunately, he couldn't escape to his  little burrow because Mr.Way had caught his arm and even though Pete had just had his lips on Mr.Way's he still freaked out in the most adolescent way.

"Peter Wentz." He sounded stern and Pete was a very concerned little Peter Wentz, "What on earth are you doing to me?" His voice softened and he looked genuinely concerned, and Pete made a face similar to one of a confused puppy dog.

"You are very very very sweet and that bothers me." Mr.Way sighed,

Pete impersonated a Jack Russell in his sweet, but horribly confused facial expression.

"What time does your Mother want you home?" Mr Way had thrown his cares to the wind because it didn't seem that his could toss his feelings in the same way he would his f*cks.

"Before the streetlights come on." Pete managed to construct a sentence in the awkward air.

"Would you like to come over to my apartment where I can spontaneously combust about why you tear my apart in the privacy of my own home."

And before Pete could answer Mr.Way correctly predicted that he would say yes and firmly grabbed his hand and led him up to his apartment and immediately regretting his actions, and his colour scheme- it was very grey and Pete was bound to make a reference to a horrid novel.

"Please take a seat, Pete." Mr.Way said, struggling not to laugh at his unintentional rhyme.

"Thanks Mr.Way."

"You can call me Mikey. I'm not Mr.Way at home."

"Okay Mikey..." Pete was secretly on fire that he had been granted being on a mutual first name basis.

"So it seems that you are dreadfully attractive and that has been brought to light in such an unavoidable way that I find myself being flustered in your presence. I'd diagnose myself simply with that in crushing on you, that alone brings distress let alone the fact you are my student."

Pete's dreams were realized in that in the most official and authorial way he could Mikey was saying that he had some little vague emotions that corresponded well with Pete's and f*ck, that was good news.

"Well Mikey. Do I need to justify my self?"

"Kinda. This is very very wrong."

"You're crush on me?"

Mikey melted away into smiles, his cheeks turning crimson and dipping into dimples that Pete found dreadfully adorable. "It's not a crush..."

"Your blush says otherwise."

"I am a 22 year old man! I do not blush, and I don't not have crushes. I have well balanced admiration for certain individuals." Mikey tried to stay serious but he just couldn't anymore, not when he was around Pete.

"Well I am an 18 year old man and I have crushes. Well, crush, only one and he's holding back giggles and it's really quite beautiful."

Mikey just gushed, then composed himself, "this is serious though, I'm 22, I'm bisexual and I'm you're teacher so this is already frowned upon."

"This?"

"Don't test me Wentz, can we develop these crushes?"

"Most definitely."

So Mikey insisted that Pete come and sit a little closer, and Pete shuffled so he was practically on to top Mikey and Mikey, his mind free of how vastly inappropriate the entire situation was, particularly his arm around Pete. They chatted about what they did, they liked, the dislikes, they hated with a burning passion. Things like Panic!At the Disco, Blood On The Dancefloor and Minion Memes arose- a like, dislike and hatred; in that order. In conclusion Mikey just had to kiss Pete because his hands were waving and his eyes were sparkling and that's rather irresistible.

Sorry to leave you on a baby cliffhanger but I have a Music Camp tomorrow and will not be updating so take your time with this chapter and don't be sad without me.
-M x