Lopsided Smiles // Petekey // TW TW TW

2. Dance Like No One Is Watching

a/n- again TW TW TW TW TW JUST THIS FIRST SEGMENT THO

Because of his job and life, Mikey's sleep schedule was entirely fucked. He slept from around two in the afternoon to six in the evening, maybe seven if he was lucky.

He had just woken up now, and it was only five, so he put dinner-making on hold. He didn't really know what else to do, because now Chris was at work, so he sat on the floor, leaned back on the couch, and let himself get lost in his thoughts again.

He couldn't stop thinking about that Pete guy, or more so his words and their circumstance. He had approached so suddenly...

What would Chris do if he knew Mikey was thinking about another guy? It wouldn't be good. But he didn't have to know, now did he? Mikey could think whatever he wanted. That's why he did so much thinking- It was the one thing Chris couldn't control. Mikey's thoughts were his and his alone, and no one else could touch them. They may have been horrible and negative thoughts, but they were his.

Mikey looked over at the clock and realized he needed to make dinner, but he was so tired he decided to just order pizza. He wasn't hungry, so he only ordered what Chris would want, hoping and praying he was doing it right. But then, he decided he would do something wrong intentionally, because he needed to be hurt.

He needed to be hurt, because it had been almost a week, and the safety was uncomfortably unfamiliar. He didn't deserve to be clean and safe, he and Chris both knew that. And something about the absence of blood and scars and gashes made him feel so empty. They gave him real feelings, feelings he couldn't get elsewhere. He needed the wounds, the feelings, the punishment. So he cancelled the order. He didn't get food ready.

When Chris arrived to a lack of food and Mikey sitting on the floor, he was livid. He went to his boyfriend and hoisted him up by his shirt collar, looking him dead in the eyes. Mikey noted that the blue in his eyes, which were once just like the open sky, showing freedom and hope and possibility, now showed darkness and hatred, but also depression. The blue was just like the blue that always depicted sadness. It was heartbreaking.

"Where's the food, sweetheart?" There it was again. Chris's arm holding him turned to a snake, and his words turned to hissing.

"I forgot..." Mikey lied, because he couldn't say he wanted the pain for obvious reasons.

"You know what I have to do then."

~~~

After he had showered to clean off the blood, Mikey looked in the mirror and tried to clean himself up. He put on concealer to cover up the bruises and gashes, because Chris didn't want anyone asking questions.

He hummed to himself as he finished making himself look okay- making himself look like he did when he first met Chris, happy and full of life, like a cliche Disney princess, spreading love and positivity. And he didn't even know.

The room got slightly darker, and Mikey wondered what that was from, so he looked around, eyes resting on the open window. Why was there even a window in the bathroom? He went over to the useless window and looked outside, noticing that clouds had hid the sun from view, and Mikey could relate. He had been so shiny, and then covered up and darkened. Lackluster and dull, sometimes gloomy and dark, just like the sky turning gray.

It was dead silent in the house- but not a comforting silence, like the silence you fill with loving glances and comforting touches. This silence was threatening, like a scream cut off suddenly with nothing there to fill the void. Leaving you wondering what caused the scream and what silenced it so hastily. That's why Mikey stuck his brunette head out the window, trying to pick up something other than uncomfortable silence. All the birds had retired, though, and so had most of the noise and bustle of the unfitting suburbia. Mikey suddenly wanted more to hear something, anything.

And that's how he ended up climbing out the window. It was on the ground floor, so he was fine as he landed on the ground rather ungracefully. He paused and waited for Chris to appear out of nowhere somehow, but that never happened. So Mikey stood up, dusted himself off, and headed to nowhere in particular.

He walked through the all-too-familiar neighborhood, where every house was the same, concealing the horrors or happiness within. Some families were perfect, and some just wore that mask. Mikey knew his house looked totally normal, and when he and Chris were together in public, they wore the same mask that everyone else did. Yet, the hate never ended, because there were people like his father that couldn't see past the limits of their own closed minds.

When he saw the cemetery, he was immediately drawn to it, despite the silence. In the cemetery it was a good silence, because it was always silent. It was so silent you could hear your thoughts perfectly clear, and you could sort through them and clean them up a bit. And, with the silence, the deceased could truly rest in peace.

When Mikey entered, he felt as though he was ruining the peace with every quiet footstep, because the footsteps were loud enough to break that comfortable, soothing silence. He found a place to sit quickly, by a large oak tree. He figured that was pretty cliche, but it was cliche for a reason, right?

And then, after about ten minutes of spiralling and trying not to cry, the silence was horribly, brutally murdered by the sound of singing. Not that the singing was bad- It was just loud, and you can tell there wasn't much effort to it. They weren't singing to be good, they were singing to be singing. Mikey hadn't done that in a long time.

Mikey didn't particularly want to interact with the singer, but before he knew it he was walking in the direction of the voice, as if the words were a breeze carrying him there.

His feet carried him over a small hill and to a recognizable face- Pete Wentz. Mikey gasped almost silently, at least 10 feet away. Pete didn't notice. His eyes were closed, he had on bulky black headphones, and he was dancing like no one was watching, because he didn't think anyone was.

Pete was dancing around without a care in the world, like any negative thought had fallen off in the process. He spun around clumsily and laughed to himself, opening his eyes because he had almost fallen. And that's when he made eye contact with Mikey.

"Oh hey," Pete smiled lopsidedly, a confused but pleased smile, like he was scared and comforted at the same time, which he was.

Mikey waved with more awkwardness than ever, eyebrows showing worry by turning up in the middle, and his lips curled into an almost-smile. It was so dorky and clumsy that Pete found it adorable and had to force himself not to blush.

The shorter of the two rubbed the back of his neck with one hand, indicating his embarrassment and overall uneasiness. "What brings you here? Visiting a loved one?"

"I don't really have loved ones.." Mikey blurted out. He didn't mean to say that, of course. But he could fix it. "I mean- They're all alive..."

Pete figured something was left out here, but he didn't even know the awkward guy's name, so he held back on bombarding him with questions. He usually wouldn't care about some cute kid, but he did now. And Mikey hated that he couldn't.