Pete stares at his schedule, waiting at the front of his school for Patrick to show up.

Classmates, old and new, rush past him. Some dawdle around like toddlers, other's run for their class like this is the most important thing in their life. Pete remembers running for his classes too, when he was fifteen; but he's been to this high school for three years now and knows better than to think high school is start-all end all.

After all, there has to be something better than this.

Pete just has to find it.

Patrick shows up, still wearing both backpack straps, just like all the freshmen. He looks exactly like all the new students, actually, in his little button up and being roughly the same height as them. Pete can't deny that Patrick is adorable. Short and small and unintentionally hilarious. Just to piss him off, Pete leans in and kisses him on the cheek.

Patrick mutters a quick, "Fuck you," but doesn't step back or blush like he did when they were fifteen. The reaction is a bit disappointing, but Pete grins at his best friend anyways and with that, they start senior year.

Pete pretends not to notice the blonde boy by the oak tree, who wears skintight jeans and an expression that breaks Pete's heart, and hardens it all the same.

~~~~~~~~~~

"How the fuck are you still in honor's English?" Brendon demands, and Pete just smirks at him.

"Sorry, Brendon. Maybe if you were smarter, you'd get in too."

Bredon tsks. "Pete, you misunderstand. I'm not jealous, I'm asking because you have rocks for brains. Scientists will give me robotic wings and recreate dinosaurs before you write an essay worth shit."

Pete tries not to laugh, but laughs anyways. "Like you aren't fucking slow."

"I have no clue what you're talking about."

"Ryan Ross." Pete says, and Brendon has no reply; he just turns cherry red and mortified. Pete just laughs harder.

The truth is, Brendon could very easily come up with a retort. And it would shut down anything Pete could say.

But some things are off limits.

Ryan walks over to them with Joe and Andy. Before Pete can say anything, Ryan smiles shyly and Brendon swoops over and kisses him, like they're outside in the pouring rain, not in some crappy high school hall with teenagers everywhere.

"Where's Patrick?" Andy asks, easily ignoring the couple romantically making out next to him. Pete will never fail to amazed at Andy's ability to ignore romantic advances.

"He went to the music room early." Pete says. "Big surprise, I know."

There's mindless chatter about how their summer was, Pete goes to his first class home ec.

~~~~~~~~~

Pete's rethinking the whole "there must be more to high school," because if this is how his high school life is, everything is better than high school.

Mikey Way sits in the back of the classroom, staring at Pete with wide brown eyes. It's too late for Pete to pretend he didn't see them, so he just turns away and walks towards the other end of the classroom and sits down, and starts drawing all over his arms. Ms. Jackson walks in and announces she has a seating chart.

Five minutes later, Pete finds himself sitting next to Mikey. In the back of the classroom.

Apparently his life is a romantic comedy, except none of this is funny and Pete's heart is being torn to pieces. Pete can't imagine how this could worse, until Mikey sort of stares at him, and then gives a little wave.

"I'm Mikey Way," He says quietly, and if anyone had been watching them, they would be convinced the two boys didn't know each other.

"Pete Wentz," Pete replies.

"I know." Mikey gives a little smile, and it he hadn't broken Pete's heart before, it would have instantly shattered then and there.

~~~~~~~~~

"This is what I like to call..." Joe pauses for dramatic effect, waving his pizza around the table. "Fate."

"And this is what I like to call, alphabetical order." Pete replies, determined not to let Trohman ruin his lunch. "It's just for a semester, right? I mean, Ms. Jackson can't keep us there forever. Some kids going to be a troublemaker, and I'll just ask her to trade with me."

Andy and Patrick exchange glances. Patrick puts an arm on Pete's shoulder. "You know Ms. Jackson keeps the same seats the entire year, right?"

Pete tries to hide his disappointment. "Then I'll be the troublemaker."

Andy shakes his head. "Ms. Ped told her about your poetry. She's convinced you're a good student."

Andy was sweet and probably the coolest creature on the face of the planet, and all the teachers liked him, which led to all the teachers telling him the weirdest shit. If this was Andy Hurley's way of telling Pete that he was screwed, Pete would have to accept this.

Joe pointed at Pete with his pizza. "Fate, I tell you. Fate." 

Pete's about to reply with a smartass comment, but Brendon is walking towards them and he's holding hands with Ryan, so Pete redirects his focus into bothering the couple.

~~~~~~~~~

It took a week, but Pete convinced himself that sitting with Mikey wouldn't be so bad.

Sure, it would suck, sitting next to someone who thought about for the past two years, and it would also be bad to sit next to someone who literally abandoned him after some shitty confession, but maybe sitting next to Mikey would remind Pete why he was an asshole. Mikey barely smiled. He copies homework. He's generally a weird person.

Sitting with Mikey couldn't get any worse than it was. And even though that was shitty consolation, it was consolation nonetheless, and that made Pete feel a little better.

~~~~~~~~~

On monday, the second week of school, Pete walks into Home Ec prepared to face Mikey Way when he sees the baby robots on the countertop.

You've got to be kidding me. Some of the girls coo over the dolls, but most of the guys bury their head into their hands, groaning.

Mikey's already sitting at the desk, slumped over a sheet of paper, scribbling madly. Pete stares at him, wondering if Mikey actually noticed the baby dolls at all. Maybe Mikey doesn't notice anything. That would explain why Mikey didn't notice the two years that Pete wasted, pining for Mikey like a Romeo pined for Julliet.

So Pete's a little bitter. Could you blame him? Maybe. Maybe not.

Pete doesn't say anything, though. He just sits down next to Mikey, trying his best ignoring him. He does a good job on it, too.

Until Ms. Jackson walks in and announces the partners.

~~~~~~~~~

Mikey looks super awkward holding the robot baby in his hands. Pete chuckles lightly, and turns to the worksheet in front of him.

"The first question asks who the parents are." Pete says. His pencil taps against the paper rhythmically, a random song playing in the back of his head.

Mikey raises an eyebrow. "Didn't think you needed help with that question."

The light banter takes Pete off guard. He blinks, then rolls his eyes. "I'll just put Mikey and Pete Wentz, then." It makes his heart hurt.

"Wait." Mikey says, putting the baby onto his lap. "Why do I have to take your name?"

"Because Pete Way sounds stupid." Pete says. Yes, that's a weak argument. No, he hasn't thought about this before. No. Not at all. Don't ask Patrick.

Mikey looks slightly offended. "Way is a great last name."

"Yeah, you've got me. Way-t a minute, no you don't." Pete scribbles down Mikey and Pete Wentz, ignoring the pain in his chest thats starting to grow. Maybe he has heart cancer.

"We have to name our child now- wait. Did you just put a pun in my name?"

"No, of course not." Pete smiles as sweetly as he can, then points at Name. "Apparently our child is a female. Can we name her Ebony Dementia?" He's only half joking. 

Mikey shakes his head. "What if they don't identify with that when they're older?"

Pete frowns for a moment. "You're right." This is a dilemma. He doesn't want his and Mikey's (fake) child to have an identity crisis. "We'll just have to chose a gender-neutral name."

"Names don't have genders."

"I know, stupid. Harrowing-Beloved?"

"That's shit. Taylor-Avery?"

"Boring. Acimonious-Love."

"You've got to be kidding me." Mikey says. He rubs his temples, then says, "You like music, right? Let's name our child something musical."

"Sure." Pete says, his heart skipping a beat at the fact that Mikey remembers something about him, and that Mikey said our, as in our child.

Pete scribbles down the first word he can think of, and Mikey adds to them. Symphony-Mozart Lyric Treble Bell Wentz is written onto their sheet, and Pete's energy is drained from the effort it takes to not fall apart or cry.

The rest of the worksheet is easy as fuck. They fly through it, putting names for godfather and emergency babysitter. Pete isn't even sure this worksheet is real. Maybe this is all some massive joke.

If this is a ruse, then whoever plotted it must love watching Pete in pain.

~~~~~~~~

On Friday afternoon, Pete waits for Mikey outside the school. Patrick is there too, telling Pete things like just call me if you want to leave, and Andy and I will pick you up whenever.

Pete reassures Patrick that no, he won't be dying and reminds his friend that he'll be okay, he's just spending the night at Mikey's house.

Alone.

(Gerard will be there, but he'll be with Frank, so it's pretty much like he's not there.)

Pete knows that Patrick is still worried, because when Mikey comes out, Patrick quickly kisses him on the cheek, whispers, "Be happy, okay?" before he runs off to catch the bus.

Mikey stares at Pete, holding Symphony-Mozart Lyric Treble Bell Wentz in his arms. Pete smiles at him, and Mikey only gives a tight smile back.

Did I do something wrong? Pete thinks, but they get into Pete's car, and drive to Mikey's house in silence.

There has to be something better than high school, because if high school is the best it gets, Pete is screwed.

~~~~~~

When they make it to the Way residence, Mikey throws everything onto his stairway and Pete follows in pursuit, carrying they're fake baby daughter with him.

This isn't the first time Pete's been here; no Pete can remember the first time, with incident with the shirt, and all the times after that. But this is the first time in two years.

It almost feels like returning to a second home.

The baby is quiet, so that forces Mikey and Pete to hold an actual conversation. They're first attempts fail easily, almost miserably, and Pete has to wonder where the banter from when they were naming Symphony-Mozart Lyric Treble Bell Wentz came from.

Eventually, Mikey cuts off their third awkward silence with a question. "Do you remember us sitting together in English?"

Did I ever forget? "Uh, yeah man. When I had black hair and wore eyeliner. And, uh, when you dated Alicia Simmons?"

Clearly, this wasn't the answer that Mikey was looking for. But the air feels a bit lighter, a bit more relaxed, because now they can acknowledge that they've known each other before Home Ec.

To be fair, Pete knows that he and Mikey have never been ex boyfriends or whatever. Mikey was just the guy who Pete never got over. He never meant to break Pete's heart. He's just a guy.

Still, Pete thinks it's unfairly cruel when Mikey smirks and says, "Funny how we're husbands now. Right, babe?"

"Right." Pete croaks. "Mon cherie."

~~~~~~~~~

The baby cries three times. That's it. One during dinner (it wanted to eat), once whilst Mikey was showering (it needed to change), and once, at two am, forcing Pete and Mikey awake.

It takes an hour and a half to calm to robot baby down, and this includes rocking it, Mikey singing a lullaby, and Pete putting Bach on from his iPod. Finally, finally, when Symphony-Mozart Lyric Treble Bell Wentz falls asleep, Mikey sits next to Pete on the couch, nursing a beer.

"You shouldn't drink around Symphony-Mozart." Pete says, except he's considering taking the one that Mikey offered him. That's how fucked he currently feels.

"Our baby will be okay. If they're anything like you, I'm sure they'll be perfectly fine, babe." Mikey replies. He's not drunk, or tipsy, but he avoids looking at Pete.

Pete's glad. Every time Mikey calls him babe or makes a joke about how they're married, he wants to cry. And the more tired he gets, the worse he feels.

After winter break, Pete asked Gabe Saporta why he drank. Gabe told him it was to feel something. But Pete doesn't need to alcohol to feel anything; Mikey gives him everything he has. Mikey is everything he ever wants and needs and will be.

And it terrifies Pete to think that no one will ever compare to Mikey, that he'll never

love again.

There has to be something better than this. There has to be something better than high school, than being devastatingly infatuated with a boy who breaks your heart and thinks you won't remember, but Pete is 18 and tired and he's not sure if he can see anything past this.

"Mikey." He says quietly. Mikey stirs beside him, not exactly answering, but not stopping him either. "Mikey, why did you get drunk at Sarah's party?"

Two years ago. Pete's asking him to remember something from two years ago that Mikey was likely to forget. But Mikey answers anyways.

"I wanted to feel nothing." The words are hollow and empty.

"Why?"

"You don't want to know." Mikey says, but Pete turns and grips his arms. He's too tired to be bullshitted and he's waited long enough, hasn't he?

"Two years." Pete whispers. "That's how long I've wondered."

The silence between them lasts too long, and Mikey turns to face Pete. Pete can see the outline of his face, even in the dark.

"You and Patrick." Mikey says. He sounds so dead, so unhappy. "You loved- love. Love him."

Well, Pete's confused. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You kiss. On the cheek. You're never apart. I didn't think... I didn't think I compete with Patrick. He always has your attention."

Pete wants to laugh. "The kissing? it's just a thing that we do."

"Right, in a totally no-homo way."

"No, like..." Pete struggles to explain. It's so stupid. "It pisses Patrick off so much, when I kiss him on the cheek. It's so funny. He used get all weird about it. We're just bros, man. Why did you want to forget that?"

Mikey rubs his face with his hands. The silence lasts ten, twenty seconds before he pulls hands away and says quietly, very quietly, "I liked you."

There goes Pete's world.

And his common sense.

The words barely register in his brain before he leaps across the couch and presses his lips onto Mikey's. Mikey tastes like alcohol and he has the faint taste of mint, and Pete can't imagine anything better, anything sweeter than how Mikey puts his hands on Pete's hips and guides him closer, how he gasps and practically whimpers when Pete pulls away for air.

How underwhelming. They're first kiss is on Mikey's couch, at 3:40 am, with a robot baby next to them. They're first kiss is after two years of emotional heartbreak and angst and no communication. And here they are-making out like they've been dating for years.

Pete finally pulls back. Mikey's lips seem to chase for a bit, but Pete places both hands on his face and stares at him.

"Mon chérie," Pete gasps. "Vous etes mon beau soleil." You are my beautiful sun.

Mikey puts his head in the crook of Pete's neck and lets him wrap his arms around him. "You're everything," He murmurs, and Pete falls apart in the best way possible.

~~~~~~~~~

One Week Later

Pete stares at his schedule, waiting for someone special.

Patrick smiles at him, walking past to go sing in the music classroom. Pete lets him go, looking forward to how ecstatic he'll be when he tells Pete the teacher put him in the national singing competition (Andy told Pete; Pete almost cried for Patrick. Almost.)

Everyone runs past him. More people seem relaxed, but some run for their class like this is the most important thing in their life. Pete laughs; he knows better than to think high school is start-all end all.

After all, there has to be something better than this.

Pete has found it.

A lanky, tall blonde boy walks over to Pete, smiling at him. Pete doesn't waste any time; he takes two steps forward and kisses him, tasting mint and vanilla. It's a sweet taste, if not a bit unusual.

Pete knows it tastes better than high school angst.

"I love you," Mikey whispers. Pete just laughs and shakes his head.

Then he kisses him again.

I would just like to say my friend is a bully for making me post this part xoxo love you