Mon Cheri | Frerard + Petekey AU

15

Mikey:

Pete's sat on the couch, taking off their makeup after our night out together. I'm already changed - I hate being in formal wear for longer than I need to be. Pete's still sat on the couch, looking pretty in their skirt. The way they can look so effortlessly gorgeous but still punk baffles me. It's probably because they're so short. It works in their favour in instances like this, and it also helps me take the piss out of them, which is a benefit no matter what.

"How's Frank doing?" Pete asks me. I think they've always thought that Frank and I have some sort of emotional connection. I mean, we kind of do. When you've known someone for as long as I've known Frank, you build up a bond.

"I think he's okay. We're getting Starbucks tomorrow as a bro date so we can talk about what's happened." I answer. Pete looks up at me, their facial expression a mix of surprise and hurt.

"That's great for you guys. But weren't we supposed to be spending tomorrow together?" Pete says. I feel insanely guilty.

"We can still spend tomorrow together, baby." I say, sitting down and taking their hand in mine. "But I need to make sure that my best friend is okay. Darling, you come first in everything I do, but Frank is really hurting, and I need to help him." I explain softly. They're looking at me, but with a very different expression. Love.

"You're a good person, Mikeyway. You're selfless and kind and I love you for it. Yes, I would love to spend my day with you tomorrow, but I understand Frank has to take priority. I have a gig tomorrow anyway so me and the guys will be rehearsing a lot. It actually works in my favour." Pete says, with a lopsided lazy smile. I had no idea they had a gig tomorrow.

"You should have told me about your gig sooner, love. Where is it?" I ask. I'm slightly hurt they didn't tell me about it.

"It's in the city. Andy's dad knows someone who has a venue, and they want to hear us play. Chances are, it's going to be quite small, around 70 people. Knowing the Jersey punk scene the number of ANR's and scots for record companies will outweigh the actual crowd for us." They explain. I've been to a couple of shows for shitty local bands recently: Frank's massive in the scene here. I love the atmosphere there. It's loud and you don't get ID'd for buying alcohol, even if you look 14. I remember back when Pete was in Chicago last summer and Frank and I went to a show pretty much every night. It was one of the best weeks. The guys there were super chill. It kind of made me want to be in a band even more than I did before. It was a shame Gerard would neve come with us though. He didn't even know Frank at that point.

"What time, baby? I'll be there, I promise. I haven't been to a show in months, and I miss it." I say. Pete nods, understanding. I'd never tell them that they're the reason I haven't been to a gig in a while. Not because they don't want me going out. I know they wouldn't stop me. I just want to spend as much time with them as possible.

"If you get to the venue for 7:30 tommorow night, then that would work perfectly." They say, pulling me over to them. They gently kiss my neck. Not in a sexual way, though. They missed my cheek.

"I can't wait to see you guys perform. I love your demo's. It was the only thing I could listen to last summer when you were away last summer." I admit, looking at my feet.

"You're adorable, Mikey. I can't believe you missed me that much last summer." Pete says, stroking my hair.

"It was like I lost my left arm, babe. Just ask Gerard. I was, and I quote, 'a horny, moping mess.'." I say, laughing. They crack a smile, and they're laughing with me.

"Trust me, I was no better. To be honest, I was probably a lot worse. My little sister wanted me to play with her all the time, my friends back home wanted to hang out and get high. All I could do was think about you. What you were doing. How you were doing." Pete says. They're so cute. Sometimes. 90% sass, 10% cute.