living's just a waste of death

television static

pete constantly needed something to obsess over. he had like, something that liked to fuck with his head and give him the most obsessive personality. he got hyper-fixated on things real easily and it always got out of control too quickly.

maybe that's why he'd always been a sporty kid- sports were a good thing to keep him occupied. baseball, soccer, baseball, even tennis at one point. sports took a lot of time and energy and determination to get good at- but mostly it was just something pete could obsess over. he was good at it, and he got something to latch onto in return.

when it wasn't sporty shit, it was the most random stuff. a band, or a phrase, or maybe a movie. things like that. he was going to get fixated on one thing or another inevitability, it was easier to just let it happen. and he needed something to fill his head with in order to keep himself from falling down rabbit hole's and tripping over bumps in the road. when he was thinking of just one thing, he didn't think of anything else. and that was better sometimes.

though recently, like, really recently, the only thing pete was able to think about- all he could fill his head with and obsess over and fixate on was mikey way. mikey fucking way. and it was kinda fucking driving him crazy. whether he wanted it to or not.

pete had been talking to joe and patrick about whatever it is joe and patrick liked to talk about. but the only thing he could really think of was the way mikey's hair fell into his eyes, or how his glasses hung low on his nose, always on the verge of falling right off. or the way he held a cigarette between two fingers because he never knew what to do with his hands.

fuck. yeah, pete was in real deep. too deep.

he had mentioned it to his friends a couple times. okay, maybe more then a couple times. maybe in every goddamn conversation. mikey did this, mikey did that, mikey likes those, mikey says coffee is good for your mental health. but of course, patrick wasn't gonna give him any advice for whatever reason. actually pete was pretty sure patrick hadn't even kissed a girl yet.

gabe hadn't been much help either. he was a total flirt with anyone and everyone, so you'd think he would know about that kinda stuff. but the advice he gave was worse then what pete could've come up with on his own. it was the kinda stuff you would use on like, a girl in middle school. the "if you like someone, just be mean to them until they fall for you" type of shit. somewhere in that ballpark.

which didn't matter because pete didn't even know what he wanted. he kept going back and forth from "hey you're sorta hot and i'm saying that in a wanna-date-me? sort of way" and keeping his mouth shut in fear of ruining a pretty okay friendship.

it had only been a few weeks since they started hanging out. but it felt like longer. months or years, because of how stupidly close they had gotten. because of how hard pete was crushing on the kid. he went from not remembering mikey's name, to thinking about him twenty four seven.

they went from not giving a damn about each other, to staying over at each other's house's everyday. mikey had been taking pete's clothes and smoking in his bedroom.

the two of them were laid out on the couch, watching reruns of malcolm in the middle, drinking some crappy beer that pete's mom never bothered to hide. "i don't know. i just want everything to change and stay the same, you know?" pete said, and mikey nodded even though he didn't really know. it was late at night already, pete didn't know what time. he didn't care about anyone or anything right then. except mikey, maybe. mostly.

"i can stay over, right?" mikey asked after a while, during the extra long commercials that showed in between episodes. pete smiled at him, "sure you can, mikeyway." because everyone liked to call mikey by his full name, but pete had a habit of saying it too quickly. like it was all one word.