liar ー petekey [2017 bandfiction award winner]

FIFTEEN

The flight is tedious, and practically the entire way there, Mikey is taking deep, calming breaths and reassuring himself that Pete will still be in New York. 

Finally, after a grueling nine hours, the intercom dings, announcing that the plane should be landing shortly and passengers should buckle their seatbelts. The plane lands after another thirty minutes, all of which Mikey spend rehearsing what he'll say to Pete (if he's still even there, that is) in his head.

It takes Mikey another half hour to leave the airport. When he finally leaves, he goes to his apartment and drops off his luggage, then calls Gerard. "I don't know what to do!"

"Tell him," Gerard says, and Mikey can envision his brother rolling his eyes. "Say what you feel. Feel what you say. He feels the same. You know he does, Mikes. You just have to bring out the part of him that wouldn't get out of the car without you and refused to sleep until you got in bed. The part that told you he loved you."

"But he was drunk on all three of those occasions, Gerard. I'm having second thoughts."

"Then let him go, Mikey," Gerard huffs. "Look, this is the man that you love, and you're about to let him walk out of your life. Are you really about to give up the once chance at love you've actually had? If you are, then let him go. Watch him leave and wave goodbye with a smile on your face. Because if you have the strength to let this man get deported without saying you love him, then you're not in love with him and you never were."

"You're right," Mikey says. He ends the call.

Mikey runs. He runs fast as his legs can possibly take him. Down the stairs, up the sidewalk, and across the street. He runs faster than he's ever run in his life so he can see Pete. Doubts plague his mind as he races, but he ignores them. All of the what ifs are placed in the back of his mind, and he concentrates on Pete's face. He just needs to talk to Pete, even if it's for the last time ever, and tell him he loves him.

Mikey pounds his fist on the elevator button of the building and races inside once it opens, accidentally slamming his body on the bar attached to the wall. His side aches as he presses the button that will lift the elevator to the ninth floor. 

The ride up is violent. Alone with nothing to preoccupy his time with, Mikey is consumed by his thoughts. The what ifs now come up, forcing Mikey to doubt himself once again. He thinks back to his phone call with Gerard and motivates himself once again as the elevator doors finally open. 

Mikey races past the reception desk, hearing Eleanor shout to Mikey. "Go get your man, Mikey!"

When he finally reaches the office area, he's surprised to find everyone busy and bustling about, carrying boxes and files. And at the center of it all, there stands one madman in a gray suit, his hair flopping over his forehead messily as he gives orders in a gentler-than-usual tone.

Pete.

His Pete.

"Pete," Mikey whispers, resting his body on one of the cubicles. His voice isn't even heard over the murmur of voices in the room. Mikey overhears Pete's conversation.

"Hey, Ryan, man," Pete says casually. "Can you- uh, I need you to make sure these boxes get shipped to this address." He hands Ryan a note and a few boxes, but Ryan, now having spotted MIkey in the middle of the conversation, stands there, eyes wide with concern. "Ryan?"

"Ryan," Pete says. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure."

"Good. Can you do that for me?"

"Okay."

"Thank you," Pete says, turning to walk away. 

"Mr. Wentz!" Ryan calls after him.

"What?" Pete asks, his tone sharp. When his employee doesn't answer, he gets impatient and lets out an annoyed, "Yes? What is it? What?"

Ryan points across the room, directly at Mikey, who is a sweaty and panting mess.

Pete looks shocked, to say the least, as he strides across the room. The people around Pete and Mikey stop and fall silent, watching as the reunite.

"Hey," Mikey pants. He wipes the sweat from his forehead.

"Why-why are you panting?"

"Because I've been running. I need to talk to you."

"Well, I don't have time. I have to catch a 5:45 to Toronto."

"Pete," Mikey says helplessly.

"I really need these boxes to go out, so if you'll excuse me... I have to make sure everything-"

"Pete!" Mikey shouts. "Stop talking!"

Pete falls silent.

"Now, I have something to say. This'll only take a second."

"Okay."

Mikey's heart rate increases rapidly, and he begins to fear that he's about to pass out from the mere nervousness he's experiencing.

"There is nothing I want to do more than cry right now, Peter, and do you know why?"

"Why?"

"That was rhetorical. I told you to stop fucking talking."

Pete doesn't answer, but Mikey sees the corner of his mouth turn upwards for a split second.

"Because I was left in my lawn," Mikey says. "Without my husband. You can imagine the emotions I felt when I realized the man that I am hopelessly in love with is about to be kicked out of the country."

Pete wipes his eyes.

"So, Pete," Mikey says, offering a hand to Pete. Pete takes Mikey's hand and gathers the courage to look into Mikey's tired eyes. "Marry me. Because I didn't know how horrible waking up in the morning without you is until I lost what little I had of it."

"Trust me," Pete whispers. "You don't want to be with me."

"Yes, Pete," Mikey says, his voice wavering, "I really do."

"See, the thing is... There's a reason why I've always been alone. I'm comfortable that way. All my life, the only thing I've done for the people I love is hurt them. And I don't want to hurt anyone, so I think... I think it would be a lot easier if I just left and you forgot about me."

"You're right," Mikey says. "That would be easier." 

A tear races down Pete's cheek. "But I don't want to forget about you," Mikey continues, a soft whisper cradling his voice. "I never want to forget about you."

"I'm... I'm scared," Pete smiles a small smile--a small, scared, defenseless smile that Mikey sees right through.

"I am, too," Mikey says, sporting a reassuring grin that he hopes Pete finds solace in.

"Aren't you supposed to get down on your knee or something?" Pete says, squeezing Mikey's hand and wiping his eyes with his free hand.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Mikey beams, and before he can even blink, Pete has his hands all over Mikey; one on his jaw, and another on the back of his neck.

Pete smiles back at Mikey--now, a real, hopeful smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Mikey whispers.

And with that, Pete stands up on his tip-toes and kisses Mikey with pillowy lips that feel like clouds.

"Yeah, Mikey! Show him who's boss!" Someone shouts, and Mikey pulls away with a shit-eating grin. 

"I love you more," Pete says, diving right back into the kiss.

"That's where you're wrong," Mikey mumbles against Pete's lips. "I love you most."

expect the epilogue sometime next week :)

also, liar has a nomination in the lgbtq+ category of the bandfiction awards! if you'd like, i'd really appreciate it if you went to @bandfictionawards and voted for this story!

-ross ♡