band one-shots

this is my pity party || peterick

what's up gang i went roller skating the other day and i had a panic attack and while i was crying and trying not to die i thought "damn this would make a neat fanfic" so here u go

featuring peterick bc even tho i don't ship it, it seemed like a nice wholesome ship :)

ship: pete wentz x patrick stump

~

Okay, maybe going roller-skating wasn't the brightest idea Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III has ever had in his entire life. But surely it's better than that time he drunk himself nearly to death.

That hangover the next day had been a bitch to get over.

Logistically, roller-skating should be a billion times better than that experience. There's no dying involved, you get exercise, and you get to roll around on wheels. Even better, you don't have to torture your taste buds with the acrid tang of alcohol.

But for some fucking reason Pete still feels like he's going to kneel over. There's nausea rising in his chest, his center of balance is extremely off, causing him dizziness, and it feels like he might die if he doesn't get off this skating rink right this fucking second.

Maybe the two experiences have more in common then he thought.

Patrick is the one that dragged him here, because there happened to be a roller-skating rink in the town they were playing at tonight. The entire band is always urging him to join them on these ridiculous activities, so he'd caved in this time. Roller-skating was a much more tame sport then some of the other shit they'd come up with.

Now he's standing on the opposite side of the rink from where he entered and it feels like he's going to die. His hands desperately cling to the wall for some support, and he struggles to keep his skates still so that he doesn't slide off into oblivion.

It's kind of surprising that he made it this far. Granted, the entire time his hands had never left the wall, but still, it was an achievement. He's made it halfway around. Now he just has to get through the other half.

The other members are far ahead of him, having adjusted to skating easily. Even Patrick was doing it with ease, something Pete wouldn't have expected. Meanwhile, he lags behind, moving about one millimeter every two minutes.

They're all having the time of their fucking lives and Pete is trapped in his own personal pity party.

Pete exhales, trying to calm down. He's not going to fall. And even if he does, it's not the end of the world. Sure it'll hurt a little, but he's a grown man, he can fucking take it.

He glides forward a little. See, okay, this isn't so bad. He takes one hand off the wall. He moves a bit more. He takes the other hand off and moves his feet.

He nearly tips over.

And he's desperately reaching for the wall again, where the fuck is it, he knows it's there, but he can't find it. Then he feels something hard and grips it. He looks up.

It's Patrick's hand.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh God oh fuck.

He yanks his arm away, and then immediately regrets it because now he's back to holding onto nothing again. Patrick halts and reaches his hand back out. Pete takes it and pulls himself upward, leaning forward a little.

Once he's steadied himself, he starts to pull his hand out of Patrick's, but the fedora-clad boy doesn't let go. He tugs a little harder. Still no use.

"Um, Pat, you can let go now." Pete tries to smile. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, your body is telling me otherwise."

Pete's knees were shaking as he tried to keep his balance, and his hands were soaked in sweat. He flushed, realizing that Patrick could tell.

"Come on, I'll help you." Patrick slides forward a little, still keeping his grip locked on Pete. Tentatively, Pete follows. He's a little more balanced then before. "Just go with me, you'll be fine."

Patrick starts to skate into the center of the rink and Pete's okay for a minute. He's actually moving and he's not falling, and he can actually see how this might be a fun activity for people. Hell, this might be Pete's new hobby. He can almost see himself, gliding across the floor, hand in hand with Patrick, moving to an unknown beat.

He picks up speed and trips over his own fucking feet.

The floor is a light blue. He'd never noticed it before, but now he's staring at it and it's ingrained into his eyelids. It hurts. Everything hurts. And he doesn't know why because it's just a fucking floor and people probably fall on it all the time, and why does it fucking hurt?

He landed on his arms, so why does his chest feel like it's constricting and a snake is coiling around him?

Someone pulls him up by his elbow, probably Patrick. He can't be bothered to look up. He doesn't until he's completely upright. Patrick takes one look at him and sees the panic on his face. "Shit Pete, do you want to get off the rink?"

He nods, and Patrick takes both his hands, and starts to skate towards the exit. Pete instantly shuts down upon feeling the movement, but Patrick coaxes him.

They finally reach the edge, and Patrick guides him to a bench where he can take the skates off.

"You don't like roller-skating, huh?"

~

also the title is shit but what the fuck am i gonna do??? spend hours searching through fall out boy lyrics just so i can find one about roller skating so it'll fit the oneshot??? bc idk m8 but i'm pretty sure there isn't one.

sUgAr wE'Re gOiNg dOwN sKaTiNg-

oh shit that works im fuckin stupid-