The sun has risen, light filtering through the blinds, tinting the darkened room in a faint glow, clothes litter the floor, and books are piled in an attempt to imitate towers, crumbled newspapers, and several ancient pictures smother the dingy almost tearing wallpaper.
An alarm clock begins to blare, flashing that the present time is 7:10, a small lump under the blankets jolt, shifting, before a clumsy hand snakes out, dropping on top of the snooze button, succeeding in bumping into a phone on the way, causing a loud thunk when it makes impact with the floor.
The lump produces a small sigh, wriggling, and making the covers slide down somewhat, eyelids snap open, revealing a warm whiskey brown.
Eyes blink wearily, vision blurring before focusing in the dim lighting, Pete muffles a yawn behind his hand, slowly sitting up, he drags himself out of bed, and crouches, averting his gaze to the floor, searching throughout the mess that is his room, for his fallen phone.
A frown making its way onto his face when he can't find a trace of the missing technology, until a loud beeping sounds from one of his sweater vests, startling him. He glares while muttering profanities, before crawling over to the piece of fabric, unveiling his phone, to a call from...Gabe?
Why's Gabe calling him at this time? Pete's just gonna assume that he never went to bed last night, and is still hysterical from partying late, rolling his eyes, he scoops up his phone, and slides his finger across the screen to answer, putting it against his ear, "Gabe?"
"Wentz, baby, I'm taking you to breakfast!" Gabe's voice shouts into the phone, making Pete yelp, and reel back, "Gabe, I ca-" He begins to say, before Gabe cuts him off with, "Nope, I won't take no for an answer, now go get all pretty for me, and I'll see you in 30." And then a click...He hung up. God damn it Gabe you lunatic, Pete shakes his head, growling, "Well, now I have plans for the morning." He mutters, standing up and walking over to his closet to snag an outfit for the day, because fashion is obviously his life, he snorts a laugh, and spins around to head to the bathroom.
Pete swings open the door, shrieking when he spots a naked Mikey Way in the shower. "Shit, sorry!" He apologizes, shielding his eyes with a hand, before scurrying out of the room, stumbling and tripping over his own feet.
He sags against the wall, chest moving rapidly, he's probably reacting more than he should be, this isn't the first time he's walked in on Mikey, whether it was him jerking off, or changing, Pete still freaks out every time, he didn't always, but that's kind of a long story.
His breath hitches and his body freezes when he hears the door open, crap.
Mikey slips out with a towel around his waist, expression blank, "Um, sorry for not locking the door, I thought you were asleep." He scratches at one of his shoulders, causing the towel to loosen, at this Pete's face turns a bright shade of red, this is so embarrassing.
Standing up straighter, he responds, "No, no, it's fine, I should've knocked, lets just forget this happened, 'kay?" Cringing lightly at the use of his words, "Right." Mikey nods, a grim look spreading across his face, "So, breakfast?" He asks, gazing behind Pete's shoulder, "Actually, Gabe just called me, turns out I have plans, I'll see you later, though." Pete answers, flush darkening, this could not be more terrible, oh my god.
YOU ARE READING
The Silence in my head is deafening (Peterick)
RandomPete's eyes scan over the article, from the image of the man himself, holding a guitar on stage, Pete's assuming he's a musician, seems his name is Patrick Stump, and he's twenty years old, young, Pete muses, before shaking his head. He's not even...
