Don't Leave, Baby Boy

A Sleepover Story (ffs)- Part #2- Chapter #4

     It was getting pretty late, 10:00 when the doorbell rang for the second time. 

"Well," Pete said with his mouth full. "The pizza got here an hour ago, must be your brother." He suggested. 

"Yeah, I got that Wentz," I said sarcastically. 

He laughed. I stood up and went to open the door. 

"Hey Mikey, here are your clothes, have fun." Gerard winked and I slammed the door. 

"My brother's such a doofus," I said. 

"Yeah, most siblings are,"  Pete replied, tugging his shirt above his waist. 

"Now what are you doing?" I giggled. 

"This is how I sleep." He replied, now throwing the shirt on the floor. 

"Oh, so I got to deal with this all night now too!" I threw my hands up in playful anger. 

"Hey, you're the one who refused to let me show you the way to deal with it. I'm happy to help but if you won't let me then I guess you'll have to suffer." Pete smirked, thinking he had outsmarted me. 

I guess he kinda had. 

"So how do you sleep?"

I stared at him with false shock. "I beg your pardon, Perv Wentz." I put my hands on my hips. "I sleep however I want to sleep and however I want to sleep is none of your business," I said matter-of-factly. 

"Dude, you want to be comfortable, right? If you want to be comfortable...you kinda have to sleep like you normally sleep." 

Damn! He had me there. I sighed. "Fine, I'll play it your way. " I said, taking my shirt off. "This is all you're getting, you hot idiot." 

I laid down on the couch with my head in Pete's lap. He laughed. 

"What?" I asked. 

"You're really cute when you act dominant," he responded. 

I gaped at him. "Excuuuusse me, Peter, but..." I tried to come up with an acceptable excuse, but I couldn't. 

"Okay, you win." I blushed softly. 

We lied there for a bit, doing nothing, when suddenly Pete stands up. 

"Heyyy! Where'd my pillow go?" I whined jokingly. 

"Well...I sort of have a present for you." He explains hesitantly. "This was.. something I was going to give to you on your birthday, along with whatever you said you wanted. That's...kinda why I asked you on the first day of school. I wanted this to be my way of saying that I really...really like you."

 He opened a small closet that I didn't realize was there. He grabbed a wrapped box with a card attached to it. He handed the box to me. 

"Uh, check the card first." I opened the small card and on the inside, in sloppy cursive, these words were written. 

Dear Mikey, 

       I'm so bad at these. I'm bad at putting my feelings into words and saying them outright. So, here's a poem:

I can't feel 

And I can't speak

Because you sealed my mouth

So the words wouldn't spill out

And crawl into your head

And make you think things

Things that I don't mean

I'm numb and I'm broken

And I feel I'm young and hopeless

And the walls are caving

And my heart is aching

My eyes unraveled

And your lips too far away

I can't describe that

I can't understand that

Because I don't understand feelings

But the one thing I do understand is

My feelings for you

I stared at the card, at a loss for words. I couldn't think why he never told me this, never showed me this. Then I flashed back. 

"So...that guy, that you were talking about when we were walking home that day...that was me?" I wiped my eye a bit with my sleeve. 

Pete stared at me, teary-eyed, looking like a perfect angel. My angel. He sat down next to me and laid his head on my shoulder. 

"Mikey, I was crazy about you. We are young, we are so...so young. But I knew one thing for sure. That one thing was that I, Peter Wentz, wanted to spend the rest of my life with one person and one person only," He looked up at me. "And it's you." 

I was at a loss for words yet again. But then I smiled. 

"That's gay, Pete," I smirked. 

"Shut up, idiot!" he shoved me and laughed as I kissed him. 

God, how could you not love someone like him? For the past five years of my life, I've felt out of place in this world, unappreciated. That's how I've been feeling. But right now, I feel at home. I feel at home with him.

    The sun went down and Pete and I lay on the couch. Our legs were crossed over each other and I felt his heart beating as I rested my head on his warm chest. He looked at me and smiled. 

"You're cute," was all he said, and he continued to flip through movies on Netflix. 

I blushed and giggled quietly. 

"What d'you wanna watch?" he asked me. 

"Uh...I don't know. Do we really have to watch anything or can we just lay here?" I asked. 

Pete shrugged. "I guess we could just lay here." 

I looked up at his perfect face and wondered...how'd I get here? I guess it was like that Talking Heads song. I guess life is like that sometimes. My skin was cold. I put my glasses on the table next to the couch. I couldn't see Pete as well, but I could still tell he was perfect.

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    The next morning it was difficult to get off the couch. Mostly because Pete was almost strangling me. 

"Pete...Pete, get up. Dude, get up, I'm gonna die...PETE!" 

He woke up. "Woah...sorry Mikes." 

I laughed. "It's okay."

 I can't put into words what came over me that minute, but someone else seemed to take control of my body. 

"My brother...isn't home today...if you want to go over there." 

There was a look on his face. It looked almost like surprise. There was no fear in that look. Only shock. Then he smiled.

 "Yeah, you're totally cute when you act dominant. I'll tell my mom." I grinned.

 I was getting what I wanted, even if I didn't really know why I wanted it.