#I did some rlly good pants on Ashes but they were the wrong cut so I had to erase them fml

[pandoras-tupperware]

Y’all know I had to give you some catboy Marius eventually so it might as well be now :). Also I love u Ashes, but plz never make me draw that stupid antique vape again

Image description in notes

[semisweetfics]

I Want To Love You

Angsty peterick thing i came up with; basically Pete is pining over Patrick feat. Bronx and Ashlee (don’t even ask but she’s kinda chill in this?? just because I don’t really know her so i figured screw it :/ )

EDIT: this gets rlly fluffy and gay further down, idek

Pete's eyes never left his son. bronx was running all over the little playground in the park, kicking up woodchips, laughing and hollering, blond curls bouncing as he ran.

while his eyes stayed trained on his son, his mind wandered, so much so that when the tentative hand touched his shoulder he jumped.

Ashlee was standing over him, a confused but concerned look on her face. He sighed as she sat on the bench beside him, trying to straighten up and force himself to smile.

"Cut the bullshit Wentz," she said immediately, tone light ," I still know you, I can tell when something's wrong." There was a sudden panicked look on her face and she turned her head to the park. "Is something wrong with Bronx?"

Pete shook his head, huffing as he hurriedly answered her. "No, Bronx is fine. I'm just.. Personal problems, that's all."

Ashlee nodded understandingly, chewing her lip. "Do you want to talk about it?" She asked finally, her voice quiet. Pete hesitated for a moment, looking down at his hands.

Finally he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked back at the park, watching Bronx play again. "I.. It's Patrick."

Ashlee nodded, suddenly understanding. "You two fighting again?" Pete shook his head, eyes down. He nudged a pebble with the toe of his shoe.

The wind picked up for a moment, and Pete paused, letting it blow through his hair and ruffle Ashlee's black sundress. "I think I'm in love with him." he whispered.

Ashlee snorted, covering her mouth to hide her laughter. Pete's head whipped around to stare at her, shocked and angry and hurt that she would laugh at him. She shook her head, patting his arm gently.

"Oh Peter, of course you are. The whole fucking world knew, and you're only just now figuring it out? Hell, even I knew."

Pete rolled his eyes, ignoring the way his cheeks flushed with heat. Ashlee was suddenly quiet, and she let them sit in silence for a moment.

It was a warm day, at least. Sunny and cloudless, a dry heat that could only be found in California. As much as he loved Chicago, spring in LA was pretty nice too.

"So what's the problem then? You love him, but why do you seem so sad about it?"

"Because," Pete sighed, leaning back against the bench," I doubt he feels the same way, and even if he did, the media shitstorm that would follow probably isn't worth it." Ashlee nodded, understanding.

"Did you talk to Meghan?" Pete nodded. Though he and Meghan had split, at least it was quiet and mutual. They were still kind of friendly, and Meghan seemed fine with bringing Saint by often, and sometimes just letting Pete keep him for a week or so at a time if she had work.

"Well?" Ashlee pressed, slightly annoyed that Pete was pulling the 'silent-tortured-lover' look again. "She thinks I should tell him when I'm ready. That it'd be good for me.."

Ashlee nodded, leaning back beside him. "And I agree. Pete.." She sighed, looking away from him.

Pete looked over; Ashlee seemed older now, her hair pulled back in a tight pony tail, laughlines beginning to form on her face. Her eyes, still so bright, seemed calculating and distant.

Suddenly she looked over at him, a bittersweet smile pulling at her lips. "Peter, you've always loved him. Even with me, even with Meghan, with every other relationship you've ever been in, you've always loved Patrick Stump. He's different for you, isn't he?"

Pete nodded, heart constricting in his chest. "He.. I've never felt this way about anyone else in my entire life Ash. I want him to be happy always, want to stick with him even through all the fights and the bullshit and both of our fucked up self esteems. I don't wanna rush in to this, I don't just want sex from him, I.. I don't want to risk a relationship if it means not having him in my life anymore," Pete said the last line softly, tears forming in his eyes as he looked down.

"Loosing you nearly killed me," he whispered, glancing at her apologetically,"but when the hiatus happened.. When.. When Patrick and I fought.. I think I really did die then Ash. My heart shattered when me and you split but it dissolved when he left, when he hated me.." Pete swallowed the lump in his throat, wiping the tears off his face.

He stared at the ground as silence fell over them, relishing in the gentle air. The sound of the highway, of children playing nearby, and of birds above him seemed to help keep him grounded.

Ashlee finally broke the silence, carefully placing her hand on Pete's back.

"I'm sorry. About what happened with us, even though we're in a better place now," Pete nodded his agreement, sniffling," But I'm especially sorry about the hiatus.. I saw how bad you got, Pete." The bassist stiffened, sitting up and looking over at his ex-wife. She smiled apologetically.

"I spoke to some old friends.. They said you lost so much weight, that you barely left your house.. That even with Black Cards you seemed so reclusive, that you got into a bad place again.."

Pete nodded, trying hard not to remember that. The months, years, of depression and loneliness and hatred towards himself didn't sit too well.

"But Pete.. Patrick came back to you." he focused, staring at her suddenly. There was a small smile tugging at her lips, and she brushed her manicured nails over the back of his hand. "He came back Pete. He still loved you, still cared. I bet you anything in the world that he missed you just as much. And he's so happy to be back.. I can tell, even just through twitter. You're so happy together.. "

Ashlee shook her head, pulling away from Pete. "You need to tell him. Really, I think it'd be good for you. At the very least it'd be out in the open and not eating you up inside. Patrick is a nice guy, even if you told him and he didn't feel the same, he'd forgive you. He'd still be your best friend."

Pete smiled, tension slowly leaving his body. She wasn't Patrick, not by a long shot, but Ashlee did manage to calm him down. She was right.. Patrick wouldn't abandon him again. The last time really did nearly kill them both.. They'd be okay.

There was a sudden squeal of delight and a blur of blond hair as Bronx noticed his mother and ran over, hugging her tightly. Pete grinned at he watched his son chatter away excitedly to his mom. Ashlee met his eyes and smiled, nodding at him as she stood.

"Thanks for the talk Ash," Pete said, getting to his feet," I'll see you in a few weeks then?" She nodded, leaning down to press her lips to Bronx's hair. "Tell your dad goodbye, and we can go get dinner, sound good?" Bronx nodded and smiled, lunging over to wrap his arms in a vice grip around Pete's legs.

The bassist chuckled, kneeling down to hug his son tightly. His heart tugged again; Pete really did adore his children. He'd do anything in the world for his tiny humans. Bronx pulled back, giving Pete a gapped tooth grin. "Love you Daddy!," he said happily, poking his father's nose. "Tell Uncle Joe and Uncle Andy I said hi!" Pete smiled, nodding. "What about Uncle Patrick?" Bronx gave him a puzzled look, his eyebrows scrunching together.

"I don't think it's uncle Patrick.. But tell him hi too!" Pete blinked his surprise, looking up at Ashlee's giggling form. 'Told you so' she mouthed, snickering at Pete's shocked expression. Pete rolled his eyes and hugged his son once more before standing up and letting go, watching sadly as he returned to his mother's side.

"Goodluck Pete," she said kindly, taking Bronx's hand." I'll see you later." Pete nodded, waving goodbye. He stood there, hands in his pockets, until Ashlee's car drove out of sight.

When Pete opened the door to Patrick’s apartment, he was sitting on the floor, playing peek-a-boo with Declan. He paused in the kitchen, watching the two play. Patrick was sitting criss-cross in front of his son, his hair poking up from the gray beanie he had yanked over his head. He obviously woke up recently; he was still in Scooby-Doo pajama pants and a red t-shirt he had worn to bed. He glanced up at Pete suddenly, smiling.

“Hey, you’re back!” Pete nodded, sitting on the floor beside him.

“Yeah, and I got the groceries you asked for on my way back. They’re all on the table because I’m lazy,” he said, grin tugging at his lips. Patrick rolled his eyes and looked back at Declan. The toddler was playing with a toy piano Patrick had gotten him, watching the lights with wonder. Pete watched his face soften, and he smiled.

Patrick started letting Pete sleep over whenever he had one of his sons. It made it easier on both of them as single fathers; having someone to run errands and do chores while the other kept the kids preoccupied. Usually Pete was left with the kids, he had a lot more energy than Patrick and loved the stupid games they came up with. But whenever one of the kids left.. Pete felt that he wasn’t needed, so he’d go back home. His empty, quiet house, surrounded by useless junk and memories.. He was sure that he’d have to go back now.

Pete snapped back into reality when there were tiny hands pulling at his shirt. Declan was practically climbing on top of him, a determined look on his face, and his clammy fists balled up in Pete’s shirt. Patrick was watching in amusement, smiling at him when Pete looked at him in confusion.

“I think he wants you to play with him Pete. He got that new truck for Christmas remember, he loves playing trucks with you.”

Pete grinned, looking down at Declan. He really was a spitting image of Patrick, soft hair and big grins. Pete hugged the boy to him for a moment before letting go, falling back onto the floor with Declan in his arms. The little boy screamed and giggled as he was held up in the air, Pete making stupid plane noises.

He heard Patrick’s camera go off, watching him take pictures out of the corner of his eyes. It made Pete’s face heat up, knowing that Patrick wanted pictures of this, of him with Declan.. No. He just wanted pictures of his baby, it wasn’t about Pete.

“Stop frowning in the picture, dingus, I have to have a nice one to send your mom.” Pete rolled his eyes, doubt and worry leaving momentarily. Declan was still giggling, screeching whenever Pete moved him. After another moment Pete sat up, carefully holding the toddler.

Patrick was watching fondly, phone in his lap. “He loves you, you know.”

Pete shrugged, attempting to will the butterflies in his stomach to go away.

Patrick kept watching him, chewing on the inside of his cheek for a moment, before standing.

“Um.. What do you want for dinner Pete?” He asked, walking over to the kitchen.

Pete shrugged, the butterflies dying in his stomach, replaced by a weight.

“I .. I kinda figured I’d go home. You can handle D by yourself, he’s a good kid anyway..” Pete trailed off, silenced by the look of confusion on Patrick’s face.

“Peter,” his voice was soft, the kind he used when he was trying to make Pete feel better ,” you aren’t a baby sitter you know. I like having you and the boys over; I’m not just using you as entertainment for my kid.”

Pete looked down apologetically, nodding. He heard Patrick’s sign, and soft footfalls as he came back over and sat beside him. The singer stared at Pete, willing him to look up.

Patrick’s blue eyes were stern. “I’m going to order pizza, and you’re gonna stay over. Not to babysit, not because I think you need to. But because I want you here. Okay?” Pete nodded, not trusting his voice.

It always meant so much to him that Patrick wanted him around. Not because he was in love with him, although that too, but just because he was wanted. Pete never felt like he was worth that, not even now.

Patrick smiled softly, running his hand through Pete’s hair before getting up to order. Declan looked up from his toys, watching his dad leave, before looking over at Pete.

Declan stood on shaky legs, picking up a truck from the ground and plopping onto the floor in front of Pete, holding it up to him with a smile. Pete relaxed, settling onto the floor to play trucks with him.

When Patrick returned they had completely made a mess of his living room carpet. Toys were strewn everywhere, Pete and Declan both laying on their stomachs, coloring. Declan was doing a drawing of his own, the crayon clutched tightly in his tiny fist. Pete was filling in a coloring sheet, making the printed flower pop with color, naturally adding a few little doodles of his own to the image.

Patrick quietly sat on the couch and watched, smiling when Declan looked up and noticed him. He pushed himself up off the floor, grabbing his picture and walking over to his dad. Pete turned to watch, making sure he got to Patrick without falling.

Patrick smiled, pulling Declan up onto the couch to sit beside him as he explained his drawing.

Declan pointed at one stick figure, Patrick recognizing it immediately as himself thanks to the dark-blue fedora perched on its head. “Daddy!” Declan said proudly, looking up for approval. Patrick nodded, his chest warming. Declan had been learning to speak since around 18 months, and it meant everything to him when his first word was ‘Dada’.

Declan turned back to his drawing, pointing at another stick figure. This one had spikey hair, and a large smile on his face. Declan pointed, saying Pete’s name proudly. Patrick grinned over at his best friend; he could almost literally see the bassist’s heart melting as he got up and sat on the other side of Declan.

“Aw, you drew me Dec?” Declan nodded happily, looking back down. He had drawn Bronx and Penny also, getting quite creative with his color choices. Patrick kissed his son’s head before walking over to put the drawing on the fridge, taking a picture of it. It was most certainly going to be his home screen for a while.

Patrick sat back down, choosing to see on the other side of Pete this time. Confused, Pete said nothing, only glanced at Patrick for a moment before shrugging it off.

“You wanna watch a movie?” Patrick asked, eyes flicking between his son and Pete. Both of them nodded excitedly, making Patrick grin.

They were barely an hour in to Peter Pan and Declan was asleep, pizza sauce smeared on his face. Patrick grinned when he noticed, looking at his son affectionately. He was curled into Pete’s other side, his hands balled up in Pete’s t-shirt. The sight made Patrick’s entire body warm.

He glanced up, Pete’s focus still on the movie, even though he’d seen it a million times. There was a tiny bit of pizza sauce in the corner of his mouth too. Patrick licked his thumb, his hand shaking as he reached up and wiped it away. Pete froze, his eyes going wide and breath hitching in his throat as Patrick carefully wiped at the corner of his mouth, his knuckles brushing against Pete’s bottom lip.

He pulled away, face as red as the tomato sauce. Pete blinked at him, his lips parted slightly. Patrick swallowed, stuttering as he stood.

“I’ll.. I’ll go um.. I need to put Declan to bed..” he scrambled off the couch, scooping up his son. Patrick quickly took him to his room, wiping off his face with a diaper wipe before changing him into his pajamas.

Declan stirred, blinking sleepily up at his dad. “Bed?” he asked, his voice quiet. Patrick nodded, turning on his night-light. Declan nodded, hugging his dad tightly. Patrick hugged him before tucking him in, kissing his hair.

“Daddy?” Patrick raised his eyebrows, looking at his son expectantly.

“Tell Pete bed too?”

Patrick felt his chest flutter. “You want Pete to come tuck you in too?” Declan nodded, his eyes already closing. Patrick smiled, hurrying back to the living room.

“Declan wants you to come tell him goodnight,” he said quietly, awkwardly shuffling back to his son’s room. He heard Pete follow, and stood in a corner while he walked over to Declan.

Even in the dim lighting Patrick could see how big and genuine Pete’s smile was. He sat on the edge of the bed, kissing Declan’s forehead before tucking the blankets in around him. He heard the little sigh of contentment before Pete stood, smiling as he walked quietly out of the room.

Pete sat back down on the couch in the living room, tipping his head back so that it was against the couch, his eyes closed. Patrick swallowed, trying not to stare, and jumped slightly when Pete spoke.

“You can sit down y’know Trick.”

Patrick did, hovering for a moment before sitting down beside Pete, a cautious distance away. Pete opened his eyes, turning his head to look over at his best friend, hands folded across his stomach.

Patrick really was beautiful. He looked so much healthier lately, putting on a bit of weight again since their last tour, but still so much more energetic and rested than he had been before their break. Pete could never express how proud he was of Patrick; of his album, of him for getting better, for gaining confidence and some self love.

Patrick was fidgeting, confused and slightly terrified under Pete’s gaze. The brown eyes he knew and loved so well were studying his face intently, and it made him squirm. Finally he couldn’t take the silence.

“Pete?”

Saying his name seemed to snap the bassist out of his trance. He blinked, smiling sheepishly at Patrick.

“Sorry, I was thinking..”

Patrick nodded, settling into the couch more. Cautiously, he pressed Pete for more.

“Do you want to tell me about it? You seemed kind of upset when you came back from dropping Bronx off, more than usual.. Did something happen?” There was a brief flash of anger in the singer’s eyes, something that seemed protective, that made Pete’s chest flutter. “Was Ashlee rude? If she was hateful Pete..” Patrick trailed off, shaking his head.

He didn’t like being mean to people, especially not after having his son.. But he could. Patrick could be downright terrifying when he was really pissed.

Pete shook his head, smiling at his best friend. “Nah, she wasn’t rude. Kinda the opposite actually, she tried to help me figure out some stuff..” Pete trailed off, biting his lip. This was dangerous territory, and Pete wasn’t sure how to tell Patrick.

Ashlee was right, though. He did need to tell him, and the opportunity seemed to be presenting itself.

Patrick blinked, surprised. He and Ashlee had been getting along a lot more lately, mostly for Bronx’s sake. From what he could tell, Pete and Ashlee’s conversations were always short, and always about their son.

“Oh.. Well that’s..” Patrick huffed, looking down ,” That’s good I guess. Did you figure out, um.. Everything you needed to, or..?”

Pete laughed nervously, glancing over at Patrick before staring at his hands.

“Kind of. I just don’t.. I’m scared.” Pete admitted, voice going soft. He felt Patrick’s hand rest gently on top of his own, the singer studying his face.

“Scared? Of what? Pete..” Patrick bit his lip, scooting closer slightly. “Is something wrong? Can.. Do you want me to help?”

Pete smiled. One word about something being wrong with Pete and he was worried, trying to help and make him feel better without question. God, he loved this man.

Pete bit his lip, hesitating before speaking. “I think.. I think I fell in love again.”

Patrick blinked, taken aback. Of course, Pete always got nervous and upset whenever he had his eye on someone new. Patrick ignored the burning pull in his chest, pulling his hand away numbly. He managed to smile, putting on his usual face for Pete. ‘It’s good that he’s trying again,’ he tried to tell himself, but he didn’t think he could ever believe that.

Pete watched Patrick’s expression shift, from concerned to blank to his stage smile, the kind that never touched his eyes. Pete frowned, hating that smile.

“It.. It’s not bad this time though Trick.. I.. You know him already so-”

“What?”

Patrick felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. Him. Pete said he knew him already.

He knew Pete was bi, had known for years, but every guy he’d ever seen Pete with had been a fling, something that lasted for a few days or a week, but that didn’t mean too much to the bassist. But if he was in love..

Pete watched as Patrick mentally went through all of the guys they both knew, trying to gauge his expression.

“Yeah, him.. He’s.. I’ve loved him for a while, Patrick.”

The singer tried not to wheeze, jealousy and rejection hitting him in the face. He shouldn’t have been jealous, of course, but he had Pete to himself so much more lately, and he loved the boys.. Patrick swallowed, nodding.

“That’s.. good.” he breathed, trying to keep his voice neutral. Pete nodded, his eyes still wide and seemingly afraid. “Yeah,” he agreed, unsure of where to go from there.

“I can um.. Who is it? I could.. I could help, y’know, try to be a wingman..” Pete laughed nervously, resisting the urge to hug Patrick tightly.

“That’s the thing.. I’m pretty sure he’s straight for one, and two..” Pete trailed off, frowning. “I don’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. And even if he loved me back I.. The shitstorm that would come with it, that comes with me, probably isn’t worth the effort..”

Pete trailed off, surprised at the sudden fury in Patrick’s eyes.

“Peter Wentz,” his voice was low, edging on the tone he used when he was really pissed. “The entirety of that second part is bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit.” Patrick sat up more, looking Pete directly in the eyes, commanding.

“You are not a bad person, Pete. Not even before, when you were messing up so badly, not when we’d fight, not whenever the tabloids would spout some new fake ass story about you, never. And especially not now, now that you’ve gotten better and are taking care of your kids.” Patrick huffed, staring down at his balled up hands in frustration.

“Anyone, guy or girl or anything in between, would be lucky to have you Pete.”

Breath. Pete was supposed to be breathing, not staring at Patrick in awe and admiration.

“I..” Pete let out a shaky breath, head swimming. “Can I.. Do you want to know who..”

Patrick nodded, not looking up.

Pete steeled himself, taking a deep breath, and praying to whatever god there may be that Patrick didn’t hit him, or worse, leave.

“His name is Patrick, and I think I’ve loved him since we met,” he said, almost whispering.

The silence in the room hung heavy for a moment. He watched as Patrick’s eyes grew wide, his mouth popping open in shock before he looked up at Pete.

“I.. I mean I.. We can forget about it, if you want,” Pete was stumbling over words now, tears stinging his eyes ,”I didn’t... I can’t loose you, Trick, so if you’d rather forget about this then.. I mean, it won’t kill me, I’m sure if i tried I could.. I mean..”

Patrick shook his head, a teary smile forming on his face, “Pete, shut up?”

The bassist did as he was told, anxiously watching his best friend. Patrick was studying him, his blue eyes glassy as he stared.

“Do you mean that? That you.. That you love me?” He asked, voice barely a whisper.

“I’m more sure of that than almost anything else,” Pete admitted, voice almost as quiet. “I.. I’ve been in love with you for a long time Patrick, and I’m sorry-”

Patrick was shaking his head, a huge grin on his face as he looked at Pete. Nervousness flashed across his expression as he leaned forward. Patrick tried to keep his breathing under control as he moved close to Pete, their knees touching.

He felt Pete’s breath hitch as he cupped his face, his thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Slowly, carefully, Patrick leaned forward, watching Pete for any sign that he didn’t want this. When their lips brushed, both mens’ eyes closed, gasping as they kissed. Patrick pushed forward roughly, suddenly desperate for more.

Pete was on his back, arms wrapped tightly around Patrick’s middle. The singer had both hands cupping Pete’s face, roughly pressing their lips together. Pete opened his mouth, sighing into Patrick’s, making him shiver.

Patrick curiously licked Pete’s bottom lip, making him groan quietly. Patrick’s eyes shut tightly and he kissed him roughly again, getting as close to him as possible before pulling back.

Patrick had both hands pressed into the cushions on either side of Pete’s head, breathing heavy, staring down at him in awe. Pete was trying to catch his breath as well, lips slightly redder than their normal pink. There was the faintest blush high on his cheeks, but his eyes were bright and filling with tears.

“Patrick.” he whispered, face breaking into the dazzling smile that Patrick loved. The singer smiled, closing his eyes to rest his forehead against Pete’s. He felt so warm, shaky but content. He’d waited years for this, to get to kiss his highschool crush.

Pete squeezed him close, whispering ‘I love you’s directly into Patrick’s ear. After a moment Patrick leaned back again, smiling shyly. “Do you want to go to bed?” Pete nodded eagerly, letting Patrick tug him off the couch and down the hall.

They got ready for bed quickly, Patrick’s face bright red as he threw some pajama bottoms at Pete’s face. Nestling under the blankets, they slept better than they had in a long time, pressed as close to the other as possible.

When Ashlee brought Bronx back to Pete, he handed her chocolates and flowers wordlessly.He was more rested and happy than the last time, and she noticed a little trail of hickies poking out from under his shirt. Ashlee smiled knowingly, shaking her head as she left. 

Pete got a text when he arrived back at Patrick’s place, smiling goofily at his phone before going inside. 

Ash: if i don’t get a wedding invitation in the mail at some point, peter wentz, i will be pissed