(Patrick's POV)

I was nervous as hell. It was almost 3:00pm. 2:51 to be exact. Which meant I had nine minutes to metally prepare for the guys to get here. It wasn't like it had been when we'd first come off hiatus. We had released Save Rock and Roll just last year. But it was still nerve wrecking when you had to talk about the making of a new album. What if no one liked it? What if it was too soon? Or not soon enough? What if they reacted to it the same way they reacted to Folie? So many people had said so many mean things about my lyrics. I just couldn't take that kind-

"Patrick? We're here!" I heard Pete yell from upstairs.

"Down here!"

I was waiting in the basement. We always met in the basement when we were talking about things that pertained to the band and music. It was where I kept all the instruments. It was also where the recording studio was located. It helped give me inspiration. And the guys never complained about it. Well, except for Joe. But Joe complained about everything so I didn't take it personal.

Pete was the first one through the door. He was wearing his usual dark jeans and pull over hoodie. He smiled when he saw me. He always smiled when he saw me. It made me feel good inside, like someone was happy I existed. He kicked his shoes off and I watched them fall in different spots on the floor. He never put his stuff away neatly. Joe and Andy were just a few seconds behind him. They both kept their shoes on.

"Hey, Patrick!" Andy greeted me with a smile.

"Sup dude?" Joe nodded towards me.

He sat down on the sofa. Andy sat next to him. Pete stood a few inches away from me. Probably wondering why I was standing up. So I took a seat in the recliner. Instead of going to sit on the couch where there was room, or even on the empty love seat across from me, Pete decided to sit on the arm of the recliner.

"So..." I started awkwardly.

"We all know why we're here." Pete cut in for me. "To discuss the possibility of another album."

"I'm not too sure we should. It seems pretty soon. And Save Rock and Roll was just last year. Wouldn't it look like we were overcompensating?" I should've expected Joe to be the pessimist.

"But it won't come out until next year." I put in.

"When next year?" Andy asked.

"Early?" I didn't mean for it to come off as a question. I just really wanted it to be the right answer.

"Too soon!" Joe shook his head.

"Well when would be good for you, Joe? Another three years?" Pete mocked.

This was why I was always nervous about new albums. Even talking about them caused arguments in the group. Soon someone would storm off declaring that 'They were so done with this crap'. It happened almost every time we had a disagreement. Last time it was Pete. I hoped it wouldn't be him again. It took a lot of convincing to get him to come back into the house even though it was below 30° and raining that day.

"Maybe. Three years away from your crap was good for me."

"Oh haha!" Pete said loudly. "This was our dream ever since we were teenagers. And now you don't even know if you want to keep going?!"

"Exactly, Pete! Teenage dream. We're all grown ass men. Those dreams have to be preserved. Put on ice. Things change alright? That's normal."

"For you maybe." Peter mutters and looks away from Joe childishly.

"If we just stop making music again, the rumors will  spread just like before." Andy was the voice of reason in the room. When Andy spoke, we all usually listened. "Everyone was coming up with their own versions of what caused the break."

"That was pretty ridiculous." Joe agreed with a grin. "It started as simple as us just having artistic differences. And went onto crazy shit like Pete and Patrick's lovers quarrels causing a rift."

"Oh, I did hear that one!" Andy laughed and Joe joined in.

Pete's laughter filled the room only a second later. His face was pink  and his head was thrown back in good humor. I, on the other hand, couldn't join in. Because I wasn't as good an actor as Pete was. He was laughing as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. As if the mere thougt of us being together was laughable. That hurt. But Pete had always been good at faking it. That was a part of the problem.

"Maybe we should think about a new album. Just so people know all is well with us." Joe began warming up to the idea and hope lit through me.

"Maybe we could go in a whole different direction. Like try a little less pop and a lot more metal."

Just the thought of having to scream lyrics over the loud music sent a chill through me. I didn't have the voice for metal rock.  After a week of live shows I'd probably permanently lose my ability to talk.

"Fall out boy isn't really a metal band." Pete shook his head. "And Patrick doesn't have a heavy metal voice." I could have kissed him!

"I have to agree." Wow! Joe agreeing with Pete?! "Though that would make headlines." Everyone laughed again.

"No one would forget the day our little 'punk' band put out some hardcore metal!" Andy was shaking with his laughter. "It'd make world news!"

Pete had been laughing along. Even I thought that was funny. But Andy's comment made his laughter die down. And seeing Pete's laughter quit began to quiet down my laughter.

"We can still do that." He said with earnest.

"Do what?" I asked.

"Make world news! Make an album everyone can't forget. I want people with fucking amnesia to remember it! I want kids all over the world chanting our name. Waiting for Fall Out Boy to come around."

I smiled. Pete always had the highest expectations. The largest goals. But he always crashed so badly when they weren't achieved the exact way he wanted. Joe stared at him intensely. Like he was actually considering Pete words. I held my breath. I knew that whatever Joe decided, Andy would agree with. Because he knew I would agree with whatever Pete wanted. I was surprised when Andy spoke up first.

"I wish I could dream as big as you!"

Pete gave him a small smile but there was sadness in his eyes. He looked away from us and at the wall of the basement. The wall where I had a few of our music awards hanging. Not all of them because the guys had some in their homes. He began walking over to the wall. Reaching up, he touched the only one he could reach.

"We've been at this for over a decade. That's beyond forever in this industry. And our fans are still kicking. We're still kicking. But it still doesn't feel like enough." He sighed. "I mean, I'm standing here looking at the proof of our success and our forever still doesn't seem like enough. I could make music for a whole other forever."

"And I could sing a whole other forever with you." I walked up behind him.

"I wouldn't mind playing forever again." Joe laughed and followed us over to the wall.

"I don't know if my hands could last another forever." We all turned to glare at Andy. "Kidding!"

"So..." I tried to end this conversation the same way I started it. "Are we making an album?"

"We're making an album!" The other three cheered in union.

_______________________________________

(Pete's POV)

So were were making an album. That was great! We'd even spent the entire afternoon brainstorming for it. And Joe, I noticed, was a lot more interesting in the actual writing of the songs. I remember when it used to be just me. And now that everyone was sort of capable, it took some of the pressure off of me. So why was I still feeling unhappy?

Joe had began writing lyrics down and Patrick and Andy were instantly drawn to them. Adding in things here and there. So I felt I had to add things too. And of course the guys liked my suggestions and add ons. But I didn't like them. I found myself becoming more and more reserved during the session. I was filtering what I wanted to say because it didn't fit the song. It didn't fit anything. It made me miss the times when it was just me and Patrick writing. I could just write my deepest darkest secrets on the paper and Patrick could make them make sense. The music was supposed to help me get the darkness out not make me feel like I had to fix myself to fit it.

It was almost midnight and I had been driving around in my car since I left to go home. I was the last one to leave the house. Joe had to tend to his new baby girl and Andy had to hit the gym. I was hoping Patrick would ask me to stay since he was home alone. Apparently Elisa was out visiting some family members or something. But he hadn't. I'd mentioned that it was getting late and he told me I could leave if I wanted. Of course I hadn't wanted to, but I did anyway. I didn't want to seem pushy. I guess that's why I ended up in his driveway, sitting in my car, waiting. Because I wasn't pushy. I don't even remember driving here. I guess my car knew what my greatest desires were.

I got out of the car and practically ran for his front door. Hopefully I wouldn't be waking him up. I don't think I was. Patrick was a night owl. He'd probably be downstairs playing the guitar or piano or drums or flute. Could Patrick play the flute? Probably. He could play everything else. I knocked on the door and waiting. But my wait wasn't long. The door swung open and there stood Patrick with a bottle in one hand his shirt in the other. I thought he'd told us that he quit drinking.

"Pete!" He opened his arms. "Come on in! I thought you left!"

"I did." I walked past him and into the house, closing the door behind me. "I came back."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because," I snatched the bottle from his hands. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I was actually drinking that bro! But you can have some if you like."

"Thanks." I sat the bottle on the closest flat surface before turning to face him. "Put your shirt on."

"What?" He swung the shirt above his head. "You don't like my body all of a sudden?"

"I don't like your body when you're drunk." I reached up and snatched the shirt too. Glancing down, I noticed he only had one sock on. "Where's your other sock?"

"I don't know." He sung the words. Then he bent down and took off the remaining one. "It may be over there!" He tossed the sock behind him. "Maybe its in my pants." He began unbuttoning his pants. Sliding them down his smooth legs. I should have stopped him but I didn't.  I was mesmerized by the way his hips were swinging as he shimmied out of the jeans. When they were off, his hands grabbed for the tips of his briefs.

"No!" That's where I had to draw the line. I grabbed his wrist to stop him. He pushed himself onto my hand and groaned loudly. Heat shot through my body.

"Stop that!" I snatched my hand away.

"Do it again, Pete."

He walked up to me. I backed away from him slowly. If he were sober he wouldn't want to do this. He would have probably not even opened the door. But this was the Patrick from a year ago. The Patrick from before Save Rock and Roll. The Patrick who wanted me. Drunk Patrick was past Patrick. But I'd fucked all that up.

"Patrick, put your clothes on." I kept backing away as he got closer. The back of my foot hit against something hard. Before I could stop myself, I was tumbling backwards onto his carpeted floor. "Fucking ouch!"

"Pete!" Patrick's eye lit up when he saw me lying on my back on the floor. He rushed over and straddled my waist. I could feel him through his thin briefs. It made me harden instantly. He noticed and began grinding on top of me.

"Patrick please stop!" I tried to push him off of me but it just caused more friction. I wish he were sober. He leaned over and nipped at my ear.

"I want you inside of me." He moaned in a whisper.

"Fine!"

There went the last bit of my self control. A man can only take so much before he snaps. I just hope Patrick realized how hard I tried. I flipped us over so that Patrick was under me. He let out a small whimper when his head hit the ground but I didn't stop. He wanted this. He asked for this. I got on my knees between his legs to unbutton my pants and pull them down with my boxers. Then I yanked Patrick's tight briefs off his body. He laid in front of me gloriously naked. Beautiful.

I could feel myself throbbing. I'd missed this. I'd missed him like this. He reached his arms up and began unbuttoning my shirt his hands were shaking. Was he nervous? Did he really want this? I looked down him in hesitation. Maybe I should just leave. But then he smirked. Just a slight, cocky upturn of his lip. My eyes narrowed. Was he laughing at me? I grabbed his thighs and yanked his lower body up to mine. His smirk became another whimper. And that whimper was driving me insane. Fuck it. I didn't have time to prepare him for what was coming. He had to take it straight. I knew he could. He'd done it before. So I slammed into him. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Uh! Pete..  wait!" He grabbed my forearms to slow me down.

"No."

I gritted the word between clenched teeth. Patrick tightened around me a for a second before I felt him relax. Good. Good boy, Patrick. But I still slowed my pace for him. His eyes slammed shut and his teeth were imprisoning his bottom lip. It was so damn sexy. My fingers tightened on his thighs and he screamed out in pained pleasure. Good. I hope it hurt. I hope if left bruises.

______________________________________

"I Mummified my teenage dreams.
No there's nothing wrong with me." Joe half sung/ half spoke the lyrics.

"The kids are all wrong.
The stories all off...." Andy added on and stopped writing.

I usually did the writing but I couldn't today. My fingers were sore after how tight and how long I'd held onto Patrick last night. But I told the guys it was from lifting. Patrick and I still hadn't spoken about last night. When I woke up this morning he had been lying beside me on his back. Staring up at the ceiling. I shifted and he looked over at me with wide eyes. Then he got up and left. I hadn't spoken to him privately since. He hadn't looked at me since the start of the writing session.

"And why don't we add, Heavy metal broke my heart." Patrick made sure to keep his eyes on Andy.

"Come on. Come on and let me in." I said the words looking directly at Patrick. "The bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints." His head snapped up and finally he looked at me. His face was bright red. "And this is supposed to match the darkness that you felt. I never meant for you to fix yourself!"

Patrick cut in with the chorus we'd spent forever on. "Some legends are told. Some turn to dust or to gold. But you will remember me. Remember me for centuries. And just one mistake is all it will take. We'll go down in history. Remember me for centuries."

"Join in the part you got from Pete's rant here!" Andy told Joe.

"And I can't stop til the whole world knows my name. Because I was only born inside my dreams. Until you die for me, as long as there's a light, My shadow's over you."

"Cus I am the opposite of amnesia!" Andy laughed.

"And you're a cherry blossom! You're about to bloom. You look so pretty but you're gone so soon!" Patrick looked at me again and I had to look away. What the hell did that mean?

"We've been here forever!" I mumbled the words.

"And here's the frozen proof." Andy pointed the pen at the wall. I smiled.

"I could scream forever!" Patrick yelled the lyric.

"We are the poisoned youth!"

Joe sung the last sentence. It felt perfect. It was perfect. Fall Out Boy was back again bitches!