liar ー petekey [2017 bandfiction award winner]

TEN

When Mikey wakes, he hears three knocks at the door. "Breakfast is ready!" Donna calls through the door. Mikey hears someone going downstairs and assumes that his mother is gone.

"Pete," Mikey says softly, and only then does he realize where exactly in the bed he is.

Pete is spooning him. His arm is draped over Mikey's torso almost protectively, and Mikey breaks free from his hold so as not to embarrass Pete once he wakes. "Pete, wake up."

Pete murmurs something incoherent in response. 

"Pete, my mom made breakfast for everyone."

Pete groans, "Food?"

"Yes, Pete, food. Food that will help with your enormous hangover."

"Food is good," Pete mumbles, "but can I have five more minutes?"

"Take as long as you want. I'm going downstairs. Mom's breakfast is fucking amazing," Mikey says, rolling out of bed and standing up. He then realizes that, surprisingly, he's not still in last night's clothes, instead dressed in an old shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants. 

Mikey opens the bedroom door, careful to shut it quietly behind him, and walks downstairs. His mother greets him from the kitchen, "Mikey, can you get Gerard up? Tell him Patrick's welcome to stay for breakfast if he's here."

Donald, who's reading the newspaper by the fireplace, glances up at Mikey as he walks towards the staircase. "Stay away from Gerard while you're here. I'm worried you'll turn him into a homosexual."

Mikey furrows his eyebrows. "So you think if I talk to someone, they turn gay? Yes, Dad, I'm slowly turning you into- oh, Heaven forbids- a homosexual as we speak!"

Donald's face turns red- from anger or embarrassment, Mikey can't tell- and resumes his morning routine of reading the news.

Mikey goes back upstairs and knocks on Gerard's door softly.

"Who's there?" Gerard calls softly from behind the door.

"Your favorite family member," Mikey replies. 

"Come in, but be quiet."

Mikey opens the door a crack and sees Patrick from the comic book store asleep in Gerard's arms. "Mom made breakfast." 

"Alright," Gerard says. "We'll be down in five."

Mikey says nothing and closes the door. He walks to the door to his and Pete's room and opens it slightly. "Okay, Pete, five minutes have passed. Get up."

Pete groans from inside the bedroom, but Mikey sees him slowly get up and shuffle his way to the door. 

Mikey leads Pete into the dining room, where Gerard, Patrick, Donald, and Elena are sitting around the table.

"Okay, they're ready," Donna walks into the room carrying a tray full of pancakes just as Pete and Mikey take their seats beside Gerard.

Donna puts a pancake on everyone's plate, sets the tray down on the table, and takes their seat. "So," she says, pouring maple syrup on her pancake. "Patrick, how've you been? We haven't seen you since you came over last week."

"I've been good," Patrick says, and Mikey realizes that this is the first time he's heard Patrick speak. "I'm really busy with putting the album together, so I'm not gonna be around as much."

"I hope it goes well. You have a lot of talent," Donald says kindly. 

"Wait, sorry, I haven't introduced myself," Patrick says, directing his attention towards Mikey. "I'm Patrick, Gerard's friend."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Mikey, his little brother-- and this is my fiancé, Pete."

"How are the pancakes, Mikey?" Donna asks. Mikey, who has a mouthful of pancakes, only nods and gives his mother a thumbs up. She smiles, "Good."

"So, Pete, Mikey," Elena says suddenly. "I was thinking. And do you know what the absolute best birthday present I could get would be?"

"What?"

Elena grins and looks down at her plate. "If you two could get married in the garden on Wednesday."

Pete chokes on his water. Mikey drops his fork on his plate. It bounces off the porcelain and hits the floor with a loud metallic clatter. 

"You want us to get married-" Mikey says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "In two days?"

"Then the whole family will be here!" Donna says happily. "Your grandmother and I talked it out."

"Come on, please?" Elena asks, looking at Mikey hopefully. "Before I'm dead?"

Mikey glances at his father for a split second. His face is red, and he's gripping his fork so hard his knuckles are turning white. Despite this, he doesn't say a word-- merely glares at Pete with the intensity of what Mikey believes are one thousand suns.

"Um," Mikey says. He looks at Gerard, who has surprisingly stayed silent during all this. He's anxiously looking back and forth between Mikey and Donald in a pattern that's almost comforting to watch.

Mikey then looks at Pete, who has wide eyes, and tilts his head. "Pete?"

Pete shrugs as if it's nothing, but Mikey can see the panic in his eyes. "Sure."

Elena claps her hands excitedly, "Oh, this is great! I've got so much to do!" She begins to eat her breakfast more hastily.

"Mom, may Pete and I be excused for a moment?" Mikey asks, suddenly feeling a knot in his chest that aches intensely. With every word he says, it hurts more and more.

"Of course, dear. I'll clean your plates."

Mikey stands and takes Pete's hand, then leads him to the front door. "The walls in this house are thin. There's more privacy outside, surprisingly," he explains as he shuts the door behind him and takes a breath of frigid air.

Pete sits on a rocking chair, while Mikey opts for resting his back on the doorframe. 

Pete cards a hand through his short, messy hair. "Oh, my god."

"My parents are going to disown me when they find out. They- they're actually never going to trust me again. Oh, Jesus, my grandmother is literally going to die. Pete-"

"Mikey," Pete says, standing and resting a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "They're not going to find out."

"But-"

"They won't. I promise. We'll get married, stay that way for the required allotment of time-- three years, get a quickie divorce, and you can tell your parents that I wasn't ready for a commitment. I promise you, Mikey, they will not find out."

Mikey nods, the pain in his chest spreading up into his throat. His tongue feels dry in his mouth.

"Now," Pete says, opening the front door, "I'm gonna go back to sleep."

Then, without another word, he steps inside, leaving Mikey with his back still to the doorframe, staring at the distant ocean.

"Yeah," Mikey says softly, the dull ache in his chest now a painful throb. "Yeah, but feelings can grow over three years, and I don't think I'm ready for any more of them."