The Emo Mafia

•Naked•

A/N: what's four letters, starts with the letter 's' and ends with a 't'?
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•November•

It's been three weeks since the gang war ended, Pete's bullet wound was healed for the most part and a scar was now in its place. It looked like a weird sinkhole actually, and Pete hated it, but other than that he was completely fine.

Another thing Pete hated was packing boxes. Pete always hated packing, or just moving in general, especially since he owned so much stuff. He could just sell everything and buy a whole new set of furniture, it wasn't like he didn't have the money to do it. But some of the things that filled his home held memories that he'd like to hold on to. Like the couch, that was where he got his first tattoo. And the stools at the kitchen island where he and Patrick sat and drank until their blood could intoxicate a vampire. And his bed, well Pete couldn't remember the sex that happened on top of it, but he did remember waking up next to Patrick the next morning for the first time. His face all soft and his hair sticking up in different directions, it was the most beautiful thing Pete had ever seen. Yeah, he definitely had to keep the bed so he could see Patrick like that more often, and keep the memory of the first time he woke up next to him.

There are boxes stacked in the corners of the room, all of them stuffed full with Pete's (and some of Patrick's) clothes, picture frames, and whatever else that was lying around. Pete sat on his bed looking at an old photo of his dad, back when the Emo Mafia was just starting out. He recognized several people in the photo such as his Uncle Trohman and Mr. McCoy, Gabe's father was there too but not William's, he didn't come along until a later time. He smiles at how the men in the photo resemble Pete and his lifelong friends. He finally puts the photo in a box by the foot of the bed labeled 'family pictures'.

***

The next morning Pete has to make a few calls to make sure his friends were on their way to the new house, prepared to help unload the moving truck once he and Patrick arrived. He could've hired some people to move everything for them but Pete would rather do it himself. He had the feeling that the moving guys would be careless and fuck all his furniture up.

He kisses Patrick's forehead before quietly getting out of bed, careful not to wake the sleeping man. He grabs his phone from the nightstand and leaves the bedroom, going downstairs in nothing but a pair of green and black striped pajama bottoms. It was still his house until everything was moved out, he could walk around naked if he wanted to.

Eventually he enters his kitchen and sits at the dining table, already dialing Joe's number and pressing the phone to his ear. As it rings, Pete impatiently taps his fingers against the glossy, wood table until, finally, Joe answers.

"Yo." Joe spoke, his voice laced with a bit of grogginess. And just by that Pete could tell Joe didn't even leave his house yet.

"Lemme guess, you just woke up."

"Well, yeah. It's like... ten."

"No the hell it isn't," Pete responds, slightly annoyed. "It's noon. I told you to be at the other house by one, one thirty at the latest. It's a two hour drive, Joe."

"Okay, okay jeez. I'm gettin' up as we speak." Pete hears the ruffle of blankets and sheets being tossed aside, and a distant voice in the background that sounded like Andy saying 'I told you to get up two hours ago'. "Jesus Christ, I'm gettin' up!" This time Pete believes his words are directed at Andy instead of him.