The Mighty Fall In Love

Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

I wake up that morning with Pete's arms around me.

In my small bottom bunk, we somehow manage fit. We fell asleep cuddling - or "spooning" Pete said it's also called later that day - where we fit together as perfect as two puzzle pieces. Pete being so close to me helped me stop overthinking about the big mistake we could have made, falling in love, and made me think of how grateful I was to have someone as great as Pete to love me, and I fell asleep thinking of him.

When we came back to the tour bus from the gas station earlier that morning, I followed Pete to the small bedroom the four of us share where he slipped into my bed, moving as close to the wall as he could, giving me plenty of space to lay. I climbed into bed beside him, the arch of my back fitting perfectly with the curve of his body.

He wrapped his arms around me and intertwined our fingers as we fell asleep in the comfortable silence and presence of one another.

I listen to the sound of Pete's breathing, trying to see if he's woken up yet. From the window across my bunk, Pete's window, I see the sun shining brightly through the curtains. Andy and Joe must be out playing Xbox because only Pete and I are in the small bedroom as the bus continues its long drive from Toronto to who-knows-where-we'll-be-performing-next. I think our next show is in Colorado in three days' time, but I can't remember for sure.

It must be past noon if it's that bright out, I think to myself as I pull my hand out from Pete's grasp to check my watch.

My watch reads 1:32 PM and I contemplate on whether or not getting up from Pete's warm body and cuddles to go find something to eat.

I wouldn't want to wake Pete if he is still asleep, I decide, so I stay in the bed. I slip my hand under the pillow, find my glasses, and put them on. I drop my hand back into Pete's and re-intertwine our fingers together.

I drum my fingers, humming I'm Like A Lawyer With The I'm Always Trying To Get You Off to myself with the beat, old song from before the hiatus, and one of my favorites,

"Me and youuu," I sing in a low, whisper when I reach the chorus. "Setting in a honeymoon. If I woke up next to you, if I woke next to you. Me and youuu..."

I sing the rest of the song as quietly as I can while drumming my fingers, not trying to disturb Pete.

When I finish, Pete tightens his grasp around my fingers.

"Fuck," I hear Pete saying from behind me, sounding astonished and very much awake. "Your singing is better than the angels."

I let go of his hand and twist my body on to the other side - with much difficulty as I try not to fall off and ruin the perfect moment - to look at Pete. I manage to rotate my body and now we are front to front. I see his head rests on his hand and his expression of wonderment. Our bodies are only a couple inches from each other and our faces a few inches apart. I look up into his rich brown eyes with a wide smile and which he returns.

"Th-thank you," I reply, dropping my gaze down to lips, then back up to his eyes. "Your kisses are better than anything I've ever gotten."

I bite my lip. Pete leans in and I tilt my head up. And we kiss.

This kiss sensuous and passionate, not at all rough or hungry. A perfect, loving, good morning kiss, something to remind us what happened last night.

He pulls back, wearing a crooked smile and wistful eyes.

"Sing to me, Trick," Pete murmurs. "The Shipped Gold Standard, please."

One of his favorites, I remember. Pete and I wrote that song together after his son Bronx was born.

I take a breath and start singing.

I reach the chorus and sing passionately and from the heart to my lover.

"I wanna scream 'I love you' from the top of my lungs, but I'm afraid that someone else will hear me..."

Singing to anyone else on demand is hard and awkward. I always forget the lyrics or the tune, and get embarrassed whenever someone asks.

But with Pete, singing to him comes easy. I sing quietly for only him and me to hear, the words flowing back into my mind as if I had just sung them last night. The look of astonishment stays on his face, along with a pleased, sweet smile. With his free hand, he threads his fingers with mine while he hums along with me. And I marvel at his beauty as Pete's own private concert continues.

When I reach near the end of the song, Pete joins in and sings with me.

"You can only blame your problems on the world for so long before it all becomes the same old song..."

Pete's voice is low and velvety. He says he can't sing, but I know more than a few moments where he reached the perfect note while jamming to his music. Our eyes are locked, trying to revel in this moment.

When we finish the song, I lift up my face towards his and savor another one of his sweet kisses.

"I love you," I murmur.

"I love you, too," he whispers back.

I lean my head on his bare chest for a few more moments, before the rumble of Pete's stomach interrupts the mood.

"Guess we better go get something to eat," I say, realizing that I too was starving.

"Patrick Stump," Pete teases. "Man extraordinaire."

He winks at me and I roll my eyes. We get out of bed and start toward the kitchen, hand in hand. We pass through the living room where Joe and Andy, like I guessed, play Xbox. They look up at us as we walk to the front of the bus.

"About time you two love birds woke up!" Joe catcalls.

Pete answers Joe by flipping the bird without a glance, and I smile back apologetically at Joe, who shrugs and smiles back. Andy gives me another thumbs up, clearly enjoying our silent paroles.

In the kitchen we eat cereal next to each other on the couch, in the comfortable silence, while enjoying each other's company and sneaking looks at each other.

I think about what Joe said, "About time you two love birds woke up!" Did he mean "Woke up," in the sense of us waking up from our slumber? Or the sense of Pete and I waking up and realizing we had feelings for each other and are in love? I ponder on that as I pick at my cereal, not very hungry for food.

Another reason to love Pete Wentz? There's not always need for conversation and the silence is enjoyable and not at all awkward. And when conversations starts, they come with ease.

"Are we still on for our date tonight?" Pete inquires, after we finish our late breakfast.

"Of course!" I reply, ecstatic that we could finally have some privacy and I could finally get a taste of the Wentz.

"Great," he smiles, and he winks. "Who knows what kind of fun we'll have tonight?"

We chat casually, just like we always have, but there's something of a spark between us now, something in the glances we share. Love.

With his eyes looking deeply at me, intrigued, and a look I've never seen on his face before, Pete looks happier than I've ever seen him.

And I must've looked just as love-dazed as he, because soon enough we're lips to lips again, his hands tugging at my hair and my hands feeling his body.

If it wasn't for Joe and Andy walking into the kitchen, giving us a once over, and then Joe thrusting his pelvis with hand motions saying, "Get it, get it," that moment would have been more than magical.

Andy snorts at Joe's movement and I pull a way from Pete, unable to stop my laughter. Pete starts snickering too, and Joe joins in. Soon enough we're all doubling over in tears, laughing off any awkwardness that was there.

I smile and shake my head, delighted, at Pete, who grabs my hand and interlaces his fingers with mine. And I can't help but study the look of pleasure on his face.

Guess me and Pete are out, I think to myself. Two down, only the rest of the world to go.