how love ought to be (petekey oneshots)

Please Be Naked

Simple silence can mean so much.

It's always different, depending on the situation. Whether it be peaceful of angry, there will always be silence. The calm before a storm, or whatever happens afterwards.

And words meant nothing sometimes, yet they could also mean so much.

Pete had nothing to say to him, that's what he liked to convince himself, at least. It was all over, it was only a few months ago, Pete had to get over this because he was seeing Mikey soon and honestly he didn't think he was ready.

But, then again, he was never prepared when it came to Mikey. Because Pete had everything sorted out until stupid fucking Warped Tour and he had everything that happened there burned into his brain. From the, "Mikeyway! This summers gonna be awesome" to the image of Mikey tearing up as Pete had to leave. Star gazing, water parks, they all made Pete feel sick now.

All because of Michael James Way.

And he did see Mikey. And they spoke, torturous small talk but they spoke. Until there were no words left and there was silence. Then looks, unreadable to anyone else, maybe, but they both knew the looks

Pete took Mikey back to his hotel room that night.

Words didn't matter when you're lips are against the others neck, and Pete wasn't in love. They knew it wasn't really love, they hoped it wasn't really love, but he needed this. He missed this. This was everything. To Pete, pants where always better around the ankles, and Pete was better of using his mouth for other things than talking, where he couldn't annoy people, where he couldn't fuck up.

And Mikey was always quiet, he was silent. Until moments like these, until it was just him and someone he loved- no, not loved-cared for. Until then he would stay quiet. It was one of the things Pete liked about Mikey. And yeah maybe Pete did like a lot of things about Mikey but that was one of them.

And they spent the night together, it's all pretty self explanatory. The silent vows of love were spoken, yet the two refused to acknowledge them. They both ignored it, all out of fear. Fear of the world. Oh, how fear controlled us all, that statement couldn't be denied, we all fall slaves to fear.

They were simply afraid of the future, they were afraid of people finding out, they were afraid. Just afraid.

And Mikey left the next morning, Pete blamed the world. He thought about blaming himself, and he still did. But the world tore it apart.

He opened up his blog, writing, how they world ruined it all, and he remembered everything that happened that summer, tears forming in his eyes, Pete was always afraid, always running, unable to face his fears even though they could be only the simplest of things.

And, if he had a second chance, things would be different. He would run away, forgetting the bands, forgetting the fame, and do what the two planned when they were drunk and in love, they would run away to god knows where and just live for once, with nothing to be afraid of, god how appealing that sounds now, now that it's over.

Some nights he dreamt it turned out like that, and the feeling of emptiness would fill him when he realised that it was simply a dream, an illusion, a trick. His mind did that just to taunt him of what could have happened, but never did.

They both knew what would happen if anyone found out, it would be ruined. No one needed to find out before it was all ruined, after all. Mikey was- well- Mikey was his home, as stupid as it may have sounded and he didn't love Mikey, he couldn't love Mikey, that's hat he told himself, at least.

And he continued to type, ending off the post

"its so hard to find someone who likes me for me and not because i am pete from fall out boy

i found them and watched it fade

dear world, fuck you."

Hd signed the post off and sat back, holding back the tears that threatened to spill down his face, fighting them. He couldn't cry, he wasn't weak, he wasn't. And this wasn't worth crying over.

And it took him a moment to realise all was silent again, noise fading into nothing, a different kind of silence than earlier, he has a million words ready to spill from his lips, all directed at Mikey.

This is a different kind of silence, it's a defeated silence.

Whatever they had, it had been lost and there was nothing either of the two could do but accept that.

There were a million words to be said, but they would never mean as much as this silence did.

For, simple silence could mean so much.

Thanks for reading I guess. This is shorter than my usual stuff but meh. Based off a Pete Wentz live journal post and I was listening to please be naked by the 1975 while writing
-E