Lie To Me (Frerard)

26: i'm so ill i have no idea what to call this chapter

Pete Wentz's idea of a hot date was an empty house, a massive bag of Doritos, and a Breaking Bad boxset.

It wasn't exactly the stuff of movies or daydreams, but quite honestly, Mikey Way did not mind. In fact, the fifteen year old still found himself shell-shocked by the circumstances and the fact that everything hadn't completely crumbled into shit yet, which was always good.

Anyway, Mikey was kind of far more focused on just how cute Pete looked when he actually made an effort, and was even more flattered and astonished by the simple fact that Pete had actually made an effort, and for him.

It was kind of cute or whatever.

At the very least, Gerard wasn't here to see him blush and never shut up about it for years afterwards.

He highly suspected that Frank and Gerard were doing much the same in Mikey's own house, except with far more making out and well, other things than the two awkward little emos were doing right now.

Mikey was kind of nervous, to say the least.

Surely kissing Pete Wentz shouldn't be any different to kissing a girl, but the way his heart was thumping in his chest, and the way his head was spinning begged to differ. Perhaps this just mattered a fucking hell of a lot more, and well, Mikey just didn't quite know what to make of that at all.

"Mikey?" The fifteen year old jumped, his head colliding straight with the wall of Pete Wentz's living room, and the sixteen year old most certainly did not hesitate in doubling over with laughter. 

"Stop laughing at me, you asshole." Mikey groaned, clutching the back of his head in over exaggerated pain. "Stop!" He repeated with a great deal of over annunciation, as Pete continued to giggle like the fucking little shit he was. "What?"

"Oh, I was-" Pete paused for a moment, just to contain his fucking hysterical laughter. "I just- I was going to ask you if you were even listening to a single word I was saying, but- but I think I know the answer to that now."

"You're an asshole." Mikey scowled, pouting a little, and causing Pete's heart to do stupid little somersaults as he did so. 

"Shut up." Pete sat up from where he was sort of half slouched, half lying down at the end of the sofa. "I know you don't mean it." He added with a grin, because goddamn, Pete just knew he was right. 

"I really mean it." Mikey rolled his eyes, continuing to scowl as Pete shuffled closer to him, and eventually did that fucking yawn and put your arm around them gesture; Mikey was not impressed. "You're a fucking idiot."

"Stop being so horrible to me, Mikey Way, I might break up with you, you know." And there was no way in hell that Pete would ever even consider it, at least not for the time being, but he was more than pretend to tease Mikey with it.

"Okay then, go ahead." Mikey turned to face the sixteen year old, and ending up kind of half sat on Pete's lap as he did so. "Break up with me or are you all talk?"

"I'm not all talk, if you know what I mean." Pete winked at Mikey in quite possibly the most cringe worthy manner known to mankind.

"What do you mean, Peter?" Mikey raised his eyebrows, kind of curious as to just what shit Pete would come out with in response to this.

"Science proves that the human body is like seventy fucking percent water, and therefore I can't be all talk." Needless to say, Mikey wasn't impressed. "I've also got a pretty big dick too."

"Oh lovely." Mikey stared at the fucking idiot sat in front of him with very little to say for himself.

"Do you not believe me?" Pete asked, almost offended, and well, considering the fact that it was Pete, Mikey wouldn't have been all that surprised if he genuinely was offended. "I can prove it to you, if I must."