“So when am I going to meet this band of yours?” You smile as you tease Pete over the phone, rolling onto your back and putting your feet up on the windowsill. “Y’know, so I know you’re not making the whole thing up,”
You can practically hear Pete’s eyes rolling. “How about you open your freakin’ door?”
You hang up and bound downstairs and fling the front door open. There, gathered on your doorstep are four guys.
“Pete!” You exclaim exasperatedly. “A little warning would have been nice!”
He shrugs and smirks at you. “Andee, are you going to let us in or not?”
Grudgingly, you let them all in, making sure they take their shoes off as they do so.
“Seriously, Pete,” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Just because I’m home alone for the weekend, it doesn’t mean you can bring your friends round!”
“And here I thought you wanted to meet them,” Pete drawls, flopping down on the sofa and putting his feet up on the coffee table. “This is Andy, Joe and Patrick,” He points at each of them in turn.
By this time, Andy and Joe have already made themselves comfortable and there’s one chair left. You go to sit on it, but so does Patrick. So the pair of you end up in an awkward polite-off that consists of ‘you’re the guest’, ‘it’s your house’ and ‘I insist’. You somehow wind up sitting on Patrick’s lap.
He’s warm, and you can’t deny that he certainly smells good. Shyness overwhelms you. This wasn’t you. You just didn’t go around sitting on the laps of random guys. You glance over at the sofa through your hair to see if there’s any extra room, but Pete and Joe are sprawled out, taking up all the space. Pete catches your eye and smirks while you glare at him. It was easy for him to look so self-satisfied. He wasn’t the one sitting on a total stranger’s lap.
You all chat for about half an hour and the awkwardness that originally surrounded you sitting on Patrick’s lap slowly began to dissipate. You actually find yourself warming to the smell of his aftershave and the feeling of his arm wrapped around your side with his hand resting on your ribs. You’re sure he’s a little bit more embarrassed than you are, however, because you can feel the heat of his hand burning through your top and judging from the way he was trying to hide the fact that he was wiping his hand on his jeans, sweaty palms are a nervous habit of his.
The doorbell rings and you all stop talking.
“I got it,” Pete says casually and walks to the front door with all the confidence of someone who lived in your house. But come to think of it, Pete probably spent more time at your house than at his.
You frown as you hear voices and Pete thanking someone. What was he playing at? He walks back into the living room a few moments later carrying a box of pizza, which you really should have seen coming.
“What?” He says indignantly. “Consider it my way of saying thank you for letting me bring three strangers to your house,”
You roll your eyes and heave yourself off Patrick’s lap, heading to the kitchen to find some plates and drinks.
“Don’t worry about drinks!” You hear Pete call. “I also brought beer!”
Your nose wrinkles at the thoughts of alcohol, but you sigh and shake your head. Pete was just trying to make sure that everyone had a good time. You aren’t much of a drinker, but you guessed that you could make an exception to one beer. Your parents weren’t home until Sunday morning, and it was Friday night, so it wasn’t like you wouldn’t have time to clean up any mess that was made.
“Okay!” You call, grabbing five plates out of the cupboard. “Just nothing on the carpet!”
Once you were all tucking in to the biggest pizza you’d ever seen, you start to feel warm and happy, but blame it on the beer. You giggle at some joke that Joe told and almost dip your black hair in your beer. Patrick reaches out and tucks the loose strand behind your ear. You look over at him and smile, feeling like time has suddenly slowed down and allowed you to lose yourself in that moment of eye contact and sincere smiles.
“Your eyes are smiling,” He whispers. “I like it,”
You flush and look away from him.
As the evening progresses, and the amount of beer consumed increases, you feel yourself opening up. It was one of the many influences Pete had on you: making you more talkative as time passed. You start telling the boys things about yours and Pete’s misadventures when you were younger, such as when you went sledding in a private field, only to be chased out by a the owner wielding a pitchfork. The boys start telling you all about Fall Out Boy and their dreams and ambitions for the band. After much peer pressure from the four of you, Patrick consents to singing the first verse of one of their songs and the melody of your voice sets something inside you on fire. There was something about his voice that was just… Amazing. There was no other word for you. When Patrick finishes singing, you slowly clap.
“If it wasn’t for Pete, I wouldn’t be singing,” He admits shyly. “I really don’t like my voice. I mean, I tried out for Fall Out Boy as the drummer,”
“I’m glad he started singing,” Andy laughs. “I mean, what could I do then?”
You all laugh and Pete lies one of his empty beer bottles down in the middle of the now-empty pizza box.
“No!” You moan, knowing what Pete has in mind.
“Hell yeah!” Pete yells, spinning the bottle.
Half an hour later, truth or dare still hasn’t lost its fun. But the moment it’s your turn, you stop laughing.
“Truth or dare?” Pete laughs.
You find yourself saying, “Dare,”
“Okay…” Pete pauses, trying to think of something. “I dare you… To… Kiss Stumpy!”
“Alright,” You mumble, and look over at Patrick, who is blushing furiously.
You move your face closer to his and chuckle when your noses are within touching difference. You were about to kiss a guy that you’d met a few hours earlier with four other people staring at you. In the end, you can’t bear the nerves fluttering in your stomach and grab the back of Patrick’s head with one hand, pulling his mouth to meet yours.
As it turned out, kissing him was nowhere near as bad as you thought it would be. You had no idea you’d even been kissing him for that long until Joe pulls the pair of you apart. And so the game continued, but you couldn’t get the feel of Patrick’s lips against yours out of your mind.
Later on, when everyone had gone to sleep, Patrick said, “Andee?”
“Yeah?” You mumble sleepily, lifting your head from your cushion.
“I know I haven’t really known you that long,” He begins.
“But?” You say.
“Do you maybe want to get to know each other a little better next Friday? Y’know, alone?”
You smile. “Sure. Let’s be alone together,”
He reaches out and holds your hand. Nothing, not even the hangover that you were inevitably going to have tomorrow morning was going to ruin the feeling of holding Patrick’s hand.
YOU ARE READING
Band One Shots - CLOSED
Fanfiction**OPEN** One shot requests for band members of your choice.
