High school/ Teenagers AU, appearances based on the couple of pictures above ^^

This is flight ing out on a couple of my devices, some of them it's working and some of them, it is not, and I have no idea what it looks like from you guys' perspectives, so I apologise for any mistakes or glitching, or for this story coming up as something different in the title.

In which Pete Wentz is made to go to a yearly Christmas pantomime by his parents, as part of a new 'Tradition'. Pete is made to sit on the end, meaning that he has to sit next to a stranger, which turns out to be none other than Patrick Stump.

Or

In which two teenage boys bond over their hatred for pantomimes in a school bathroom.

Hnn sorry I'm behind guys but my mental health has been through the fucking floor this weekend so I'm doing my best to catch up by the end of the week.

Spot any mistakes? Point that shit out, yo.

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Pete sighed. He sunk down in the cheap blue plastic chair, doing his best to tune out the loud muttering so it became merely an annoying hum of background noise. His stupid parents had dragged him back out to his new high school in the middle of Christmas break, as part of a new 'Family Tradition', to watch a bunch of over-excited college students who really should just go home and get a life prance about on stage in tights and wigs, singing about some modernised version of a done-to-death fairytale in a sad attempt to be trendy.

To add insult to injury, he had been made to sit on the edge of his family group, meaning that whenever the person who had booked the seats next to him got here, he would be sitting next to a stranger for the next two hours. A stranger who would, based reasonably on Pete's past experiences, eat loudly, spread thier legs too widely and touch his knee with their leg, talk constantly to the person next to them, laugh obnoxiously, be way too into the entire thing - The list could go on.

The production was supposed to start at near to 7:00pm, but his mother had insisted on getting there early so she could 'Socialise' and 'Get to know everyone more'. But given that Pete had been at the school for two weeks now, he knew what she really meant was 'natter with the other mums and brag about out respective children's accompishments because we have nothing else in our sad lives to brag about'. So that meant Pete had been sitting here since around 5:00pm, and by 5:30pm, he had been to the toilet three times, just for something to do, and he was seriously considering going to sleep out of sheer boredom to pass the time. If he was lucky, he might be able to get away with napping through the whole thing, he thought. And that's what Pete Wentz had been trying to do for the last ten minutes: Trying to go to sleep. But, who would've guessed that sleeping on a plastic chair, with a very loud family (Crying children and dog included) sitting behind him would be one of the hardest challenges of his life?

He had tried many solutions to the 'This chair is laughably uncomfortable' factor, the most effecctive being to remove his jacket and use it as a pillow, propped up on the back of his chair. It had worked for a while, before someone opened the hall doors and the cold winter air blew in, chilling his bare arms and forcing him to use his pillow as a jacket once more. And now we get to the present moment. Pete had resorted to laying down with his head on the chair next to him, willing to have to talk to the owner of that seat if it meant he could skip ahead in time a little, and he wasn't feeling too bad. He licked his lips and shut his eyes with a hum, adjusting his elbow so his head could rest on it, and finally, finally, he felt himself start to slip away into his own head. And for that, Pete would be eternally grateful.

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Pete was softly awoken by the sound of hushed whispering coming from somewhere above him. He listened, but didn't open his eyes, after hearing his name in the conversation.

"-name's Pete, he's in my science, history and English classes." A male voice, young, sounding around his age.

"Well, that makes it easier. Wake him up." That must be the boy's mother; Female and oler-sounding with a hint of parental sternness.

"Mom, no!"

"Well, do you want to sit down, or not?"

"To be honest, I don't want to be here at all."

"The show's starting, Patrick! Wake him up, sit down, and be quiet." Pete heard a complaining whine, before he heard the rustle of fabric and hand tentatively rubbed at his shoulder. Pete groaned.

"Hey, hey, your name's Pete, right? I'm Patrick, nice to meet ya. You gotta wake up, dude, or my mom will have a fit." The boy whispered, closer to Pete's level; he must've crouched down. Pete opened blurry eyes, immediately noticing two things. The first was that he was right, the boy had crouched down in front of him. The second was that whoever this 'Patrick' was, he was the most appealing human being Pete had ever had the pleasure of setting his eyes upon.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes with a small, odd sort of snarfle sound, and Patrick moved to sit where his head had been with an appreciative and slightly apologetic smile. Pete looked the boy up and down, and confirmed his earlier judgement. He had beautifully clear, pale skin (That looked really soft, but Pete wasn't going to go there), and beautiful blue eyes behind beautiful black glasses, and beautiful brown-blonde hair under a beautiful black fedora with a beautiful black band around it. He was wearing a beautifully complimenting blue denim shirt with beautiful little white buttons, the top two of which were undone, that matched his beautiful eye colour, over beautiful black jeans, and on top of it all, a beautiful black leather jacket.

And then, Pete Wentz realised two more things: That Patrick was beautiful, and that Pete was in love with him.

"S-Sorry..." He murmered, rubbing his face with a yawn.

"That's alright. I'm guessing you were hoping to sleep through the whole thing, right?"

"Yeah. You dragged here by your family, too?"

"Mmhm. These things are fucking stupid." Pete was slightly taken aback by the sound of the profanities spilling out from such a pretty mouth.

The two sat silent for a while, watching the production that turned out to be a laughable modernised version of Cinderella, before Patrick hissed in his ear.

"Hey, hey, you wanna get out of here?"

"What?"

"Come to the bathroom with me."

"Oka-Alright." Patrick turned to his mother, probably telling her where he was going, before standing up and making his way through the aisle and out the double doors. Pete waited a few moments, before doing the same (With some diffculty due to a woman with her own bodyweight in bags on the floor, which was a sizeable amount, Pete remarked snarkily in his head.)

When he arrived at the mens bathroom, he pushed the door open and was greeted by the sight of Patrick leaning against the sinks.

"Where were you?"

"Some fat-ass woman decided to put her six million bags down on the floor so I had to wait for her to move them before I could get past." Pete scowled and Patrick laughed, a sweet, sweet sound that filled Pete's ears and made his heart swell.

"You've got a cute laugh."

"Yeah? I've been told that before, but only once." Patrick got off of the sinks and sidled over to where Pete was leant with his elbow on top of the hand dryers, picking a piece of dirt from under his nails. "By my ex girlfriend. Well, actually, she was never really my girlfriend, but she told people she was, so I had to play along. She was fucking obsessed with me. I hated her." He scowled. "She only stopped when I told her I was bisexual. Never talked to me again." Patrick chuckled, folding his arms behind his head and leaning on the wall. "Ah, the sweet release." "You don't have a problem with that, right?"

"No." Pete tried and failed to supress a smile. "I'm the same."

"I thought so. You got that look aboutcha." Patrick smiled. "Anyway. How 'bout we introduce ourselves better?"

"Alright. I'm Pete, Pete Wentz. I joined the school two weeks ago, I'm gay, and uhh... I hate pantomimes?"

"Nice to meet you Pete Wentz, I'm Patrick Stump," He grinned. "I've been in the school since, like, forever, I'm bisexual, I hate pantomimes too," He looked to the floor. "And I there's a boy that looks really attractive when he sleeps who I met today, and I can't help but notice that he's just my type..." He flashed Pete another shy grin, his cheeks flushed, and stuck out his hand.

"O-Oh. Straight for what you want, huh? Well, then. In that case..." Pete swallowed his nerves and took Patrick's hand, acting like he was going to shake it, but instead, pulled Patrick forward to press their lips together. He heard Patrick exhale softly through his nose and put a hand to the back of his head, tilting it to make the angle more comfortable. Patrick's lips were soft, beautiful, and they moved with a certain air of practise that Pete himself didn't have. They pulled away with a pleasantly wet sound, and looked at each other. Patrick's smile wobbled and he snorted before laughing, a chuckle that rang loud and echoed slightly in the bathroom. Pete couldn't help but join him, and soon enough the joyful sound of two boys' laughter could be heard from the other side of the door.

"Holy shit, I can't believe you did that." Patrick looked at him with happy eyes, and Pete shrugged sheepishly, a smile still on his face.

"Would you let me do it again?"

"Absolutely." Pete leaned in again and connected their lips, at the right angle this time, and he put a hand to Patrick's waist. Patrick put one hand on his shoulder and used to other to cup his cheek, starting to move his lips against Pete's. Pete panicked slightly, he had never done this before, and Patrick must've sensed it as he pulled away, looking up at Pete.

"It's alright, just copy me." He pressed forward again, their chests bumping together, and resumed the kiss. Patrick began to move his lips again, and Pete copied as best he could with no previous experience up his sleeve. Patrick hummed into his mouth, and so Pete thought he must be doing something right. He was alarmed in the best kind of way as he felt Patrick's tongue brush at his lips. He opened his mouth, seeming to be the right thing to do after seeing it happen multiple times in videos from his 'Untitled Folder' on his laptop. What? He was fifteen, nearly sixteen-what kind of fifteen/sixteen year old doesn't watch porn? Pete's brain connected the two words 'Patrick' and 'Porn' and with the way Patrick's tongue was swirling around the inside of his mouth, suddenly Pete was trying very hard not to get... Well, hard. Again, what? He was a teenage boy, alright? Give him this one, he can't help it, what with all the hormones and shit like that. He briefly entertained the thought that they were completely alone in the bathroom, with unlikely interruptions until the intermission, which should be in about an hour, before scolding himself and pulling himself together, pressing his lips harder against Patrick's.

"I think I love you." Pete said against Patrick's mouth after they had pulled away a second time.

"I think I love you, too." Patrick grinned. "How cheesy was that?"

"Wow. I just made out with a cute dude I met not half an hour ago in a school bathroom after falling asleep on his chair out of boredom. Holy shit." Pete was grinning from ear to ear, and Patrick mirrored him.

"So, uh. You wanna come to my place after this?"

"Patrick Stump, is that a date I smell?"

"It might be."