learning to fly ➵ petekey

vii ; stupid boys being stupid

As it turns out, Mikey did actually manage to spit it out to Pete eventually over the weekend when he was helping Pete with some homework (which Mikey found unreal, because Pete always skipped doing homework).

That is, kind of. In a strange, unique way he did, but not directly, just with little hints, and on the plus side, it ended up going well. For the most part.

"Pete? This is kind of a random question, but do you like anyone right now?" Mikey timidly asked.

Pete had an inner monologue with himself at that point, which was regarding such thoughts as it's not gonna go where you want it to go, and stop fussing over nothing, and fucking hell can you get over him already. Visibly, he blushed slightly, not much, but enough for it to catch Mikey's eye and cause some kind of chain reaction.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Pete said, trying to remain composed.

"What are they like?" Mikey asked, and maybe he was prying a little too much, but he wanted hints, because there was always that possibility that the feelings were mutual, and he wasn't prepared to be stuck in some kind of unrequited sobbing mess.

Pete smiled. "They're nice. They always listen to me. I feel like I can talk to them about anything, y'know?"

"Yeah, I get you. S'a nice feeling, isn't it?"

"Mhm," Pete agreed. "Do you like someone as well, then?" Pete asked, and oh yes, it was the dreaded question, and Mikey felt like melting on the spot.

"Maybe," he said.

"You totally do!" Pete grinned, and Mikey shook his head in denial, but the pink tint on his face gave away his lie. "C'mon, tell me about 'em!"

Mikey made no secret to hide his crush's gender. "He's cute, and kind of intimidating, but nice, and I don't know, but when I'm with him it feels like I can be myself, and that's cheesy as fuck, but..." he trailed off, embarrassed by his confession.

"That's really sweet, Mikes," Pete said, and Mikey smiled. "Hey! You didn't complain that time!"

"S'growing on me," he admitted, shrugging.

"Awesome."

"That doesn't mean you can call me it all the time, though," he warned.

"It totally does, Mikes."

"Oh, piss off!"

-

Mikey hated class. More specifically, he hated talking in class.

Most times he spoke he would feel as though he had annoyed someone by talking too loudly for too long, and he would always leave thinking God, I wish I had never spoken.

He hated the pressure he felt when he got picked on by a teacher to answer a question, and the stares he got when he couldn't give a decent response.

Mikey often started his sentences not knowing where they would end. This made them messy, as he stumbled over his words, pausing to find something that fit, regretting not thinking about it before he spoke in the first place.

He never quite understood how people could talk so fluidly, so confidently.

He hoped he would one day, though, but he knew it was a long shot, because he knew that getting over strong feelings like that wasn't nearly as simple as a click of the fingers.

If it had to be compared to anything, Mikey reckoned that getting over it would be something like attempting to climb Mount. Everest wearing flip flops.

Telling this to Pete simultaneously made him feel better and worse. Better in a sense that he had gotten it off of his chest, and he didn't have to keep it all bottled up inside him anymore, but worse, because Pete's response was perfect, and he always knew what to say, and that made Mikey feel worse about his inability to do the same.

"It's not fair that those who deserve the sun get rained the hardest on," he had said, which confused Mikey at first, so he asked what he meant by that, to which he responded with "it's another way of saying that the best of people always seem to have so many obstacles that they don't deserve thrown at them", which made his heart do this weirdly nice fluttery thing, and he couldn't help but smile.

Smiles felt almost meaningless to him, now. Probably because he had spent so many years faking them to his parents. Although, it was kind of helpful, because it allowed him to develop a trait where he could usually tell how faked anybody's smile was.

Pete's always seemed to be genuine, and that confused him, because Pete had admitted before that he usually felt quite unhappy, though he supposed that it wasn't a 24/7 thing, and he most likely had a source of happiness that made him smile sometimes, though.

It was strange, because Pete smiled a lot around Mikey, and that fueled the what if part of his brain a lot, because what if it was himself that caused Pete to be all smiley all the time?

The thought baffled him, because he believed that he was a boring person, and the thought that it was impossible for someone to like him, and honestly, if he was Pete, he would've ditched himself long ago.

-

Pete had tried not to fall back into his old routine of skipping class, because he wanted to pass, and he knew that having a better attendance practically guaranteed better grades, but old habits die hard, and it turned out that some classes were particularly stressful, and Pete found himself back behind the damned shed.

It was quite alarming how many bad memories the place held; too many times he had ran out of the classroom in a state, rushing to escape from negativity. He remembered feeling that bad all that time ago. Wishing he could disappear. Wanting everything to end.

It made him kind of proud in a weird way, though, because looking back, he had improved a lot since then, and he supposed that achieving the feeling of happiness was good.

Pete wanted to credit Mikey for this, but he knew that feeling better was all him.

Yes, Mikey had inspired him to try, but the actual thing was done by Pete himself. He had to give himself that one, despite his reluctance to think of himself in any positive light.

But positivity wasn't really the main focus in that moment - him going back behind the shed was.