(Pete's POV)

I walked into Patrick's house without being invited. Hey, it wasn't like I hadn't tried knocking. Because I did. For like five fucking minutes straight. But now my hand was tired and my patience was up. I knew he was home. One, because his car was in the driveway. Two, because the fucking front door was unlocked. I cautiously opened his bedroom door. Please let it be empty. Please let it be empty. Huh! It was empty. Where the hell was that boy?

"Patrick!" I yelled. No answer. "Patrick fucking Stump, I will steal your underwear!" Silence. I walked into the kichen, dragging my fingers over the counter tile. My nails scratched it, making the loud, annoying sound he hated. But he still didn't come out. I walked down to the basement. It was the only soundproof room in the house. Maybe that's why he couldn't hear me. "Pat-"

I stopped when I saw him in the recording booth. He was wearing a pajama set. Like an actual shirt and pants. I didn't know dudes even word those. His glasses were on but I didn't know why. His eyes were closed behind them. And he was singing. A song that I didn't quite recognize at first.

"Whispered goodbye. He got on a plane. Never to return again. But always in my heart." He sang. The song still wasn't ringing a bell. He adjusted his stance, widening his legs. I knew what that meant, I'd seen it done before. He was about to bellow. Whatever he was singing, he meant it. "This love has taken its toll on me. He said goodbye too many times before! And my heart is breaking in front of me! But I had no choice. Because I won't say goodbye anymore!"

"Shit." I mumbled. I knew that song. Maroon 5 song. Was he talking about me?

"I tried my best to feed his apatite. Keep him coming every night. So hard to keep him satisfied." The way his voice deepened when he said that part was so sexy. My stomach twisted. " He kept playing love like it was just a game. Pretending to feel the same. But turn around and leave again. Oh!" He screamed the words now. His face turning pink. His fist slamming down at his sides in frustrated anger.

"This is for me." I mumbled in awe. Watching the pain on the small man's face as he sung. I didn't know I could hurt him like this.

"I'll fix these broken things! Repair your broken wings! And make sure everything's alright!" As he was yelling beautifully into the mike, tears began cascading down his flushed cheeks. I turned and walked back up the stairs. Hearing him sing after me. "My pressure on your hips! Sinking my fingertips in every inch of you because I know that's what you want me to do! Oh!"

I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a pencil from the cup on the counter. I didn't have a piece of paper so I wrote on the fridge. It'd come off. Stopped by but couldn't find you! XO -Pete.
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(Patrick's POV)

I walked out of the basement and headed to the kitchen. Singing always helped me feel better. For some reason, I just broke down this morning. I was overwhelmed. I was tired of pretending to be happy with Pete. I was tired of waking up alone. I was tired of hurting for no reason. At least when Pete hurt me, I still knew he loved me. That's why we always forgave each other. That wasn't the case anymore. At least not for Pete.

I went to open my refrigerator and paused. What the fuck? Stopped by but couldn't find you! XO -Pete. He came here? My door was unlocked?! I sighed when I realized he didn't find me. That would have been embarrassing. And XO? What was that supposed to mean? Maybe I should return the favor. Rushing to my room, I grab a pair of shoes on and my hat. To Pete's house we go.

His door was unlocked too. I smiled when it twisted open and I walked in. The smell of Pizza was the first thing that hit me. So he was probably in the kitchen. But when I walked in it was empty. The oven light was on so maybe he was cooking pizza? When I turned, another smell hit me. The smell of Eternity and... Pete. I closed my eyes and followed the smell. It led me to the bathroom in Pete's room. I stopped outside the door. I could hear him singing in the shower. I smiled. Pete always sung in the shower. I pressed my ear against the door. But I couldn't hear anything. Come to think of it, I couldn't even here the shower-

"Patrick?" Pete asked as the door swung open. Sending me tumbling forward.

My hands reached out to steady myself. On his bare, wet chest. Oh God. He was wearing nothing but a towel. My hands snatched away from him and I backed up to put some distance between us. Pete smirked knowingly. Fuck him for knowing what he was doing. Instead of walking over to me, he walked into his closet and pulled out a pair of boxers. He lifted his hands to remove the towel.

"S-stop!" I put my hands up. "Please stop."

"No ones making you watch." His brow raised. Daring me to leave. That son of a bitch knew I wouldn't.

"Yes, they are. My eyes are making me watch. I want to look away."

"Like a moth to a flame, right?" He joked. I didn't laugh because that was exactly how it was. "Don't be ridiculous, Patrick." He reached to drop the towel again.

"Please no!" I stopped him again. "Kick me out or something." Why wasn't he? He hated me, didn't he? It was at least a dislike.

"You're acting like I'm concealing a weapon under here or something." Too accurate. He laughed. And the towel dropped.

I gasped. He didn't immediately reach for the boxers. I wonder when was the last time he had sex. He wasn't sleeping with Ashlee. He definitely wasn't with Megan. Poor MJ. But he was Pete fucking Wentz. He could just walk in a bar and snap his fingers. Every girl in there would follow. Hr probably had sex last night. He began walking towards me. I of course backed up.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"I uh... Missed you." He continued walking up to me until my back hit the solid surface of his wall. Great.

"You you don't miss me. You're horny."

"That's what made me miss you." He smiled.

I closed my eyes as he pressed against me. Think of sad, unsexy things, Patrick. Dead dogs. War. Poverty. Starvation. Pete's tongue traced down the line of my neck and my eyes snapped open. Why should any man be that sexy?! He grabbed the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head. I quickly tried to cover my chest. I'd gained a little weight and it made me self conscious. Pete tried prying my arms off.

"No." I muttered. "I don't want you staring at all my flaws."

"If those are flaws. They are the best damn flaws I've ever seen." He was lying. He'd say anything for sex. "And all of these 'flaws' are perfectly aligned with the mood I'm in now."

"Of course." Like a dog in heat.

He kissed my neck again but I didn't move. I wasn't going to have sex with him when I was almost positive he didn't love me. If I started sleeping with him when he didn't feel anything for me, I'd just get hurt. And I was tired of hurting while Pete seemed to not feel anything. So I stood as still as a statue. Even as he took off my hat and glasses. Even when his hand slipped down the front of my pajama pants. He could play all he wanted, but I wouldn't sleep with him unless he loved me. Don't get hurt, Patrick. Don't you get hurt. I kept repeating the words in my head.

"Patrick!" He pulled slightly away to look at me. "Are you really going to keep fighting me on this?"

"Well I didn't come here to fight. But I will until it's over." He shrugged and went back to kissing my neck. His hands still in my pants. Don't get hurt. Don't get hurt. But I could feel myself about to cave. "And this might turn into a full battle." He continued his actions. "M-Might not end okay." I tried, but the threat was weak.

"You know what, fine!" He snapped. Pulling away from me. Cold hit me as soon as his body head left. He turned his back to me. No! Come back. He reached over and picked up his boxers. I rushed to the front of him and slammed my lips against his. I never thought I was a good kisser. Until I met pete. He was the only one i felt talented with. I could feel his deep chuckle against my mouth. He knew I'd give in. Hell, I knew I'd give in. But I couldn't help it. I knew he was just going to end up
hurting me again. But I loved this feeling so much.

"I thought you weren't going to touch me unless you knew I wasn't touching her."

His hands reached up to my neck. Slightly choking me through his kisses. "Have you been touching her?"

"No." I could barely get the word out.

"Shit, I don't know if I believe you." He stopped choking me. Stopped kissing me. I could have cried. Pete stared down into my eyes. Like he was looking for something. "But you're such an irresistible little son of a bitch." His lips touched mine again.

Me? Irrestistable? I think me might have us confused. Pete continued moving roughly against my mouth. He was so sexy but so confusing. Bleached blonde hair with messy black roots. Tired eyes. Wet. He looked like he'd run through the rainy streets of Seattle. But he felt so muscled and hard. He felt hot. Hot like the streets of LA. It didn't even take five minutes before he'd popped my self restraint like a bubble. I grabbed his ass and he moaned.

"Can I top?" I tried to whisper it seductively. It was a rare occurrence. But maybe if he was turned on enough, he'd let me do whatever I wanted.

"No." He threw me onto the bed.
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Pete and I laid in his bed not talking. Barely moving after we were done. I didn't know what to expect from him. Best case scenario would be him pulling me against his chest and telling me how much he loved me. Yeah, like that would happen. Worse case scenario would be him screaming that he hated me and kicking me out. Much more likely. But I didn't expect to just be laying here. Vulnerable. Afraid of his next move. He could cut me to the bone with just two words right now. Maybe I should talk first. I had nothing to lose.

"Pete?"

"What?"

"Are you... Are you angry."

"No, Patrick."

"Do you regret it?"

"No, Patrick."

"D-Do you love me?"

His answer wasn't as fast. "I-I really don't know."

"Okay." Don't cry. Do not cry. You knew he didn't love you. You knew you'd get hurt. You have no right to cry.

"Patrick, I'm sorry." He sat up And looked down at me. I closed my eyes. "I-I'm just having a hard time trusting you. How do I know you aren't still having sex with you wife?" He stopped and took a deep breath. I opened one eye to peek at him and he was staring at the wall in front of us. "I just wish I could hang you up on my wall and watch you. That way you'd stay out of trouble." He laughed and I laughed too.

"I want you to trust me Pete. I could move in-"

"Pete!" A female voice screamed. Fucking great. I glanced at Pete and he looked just as confused. "Is something burning in here?!" She yelled. It was MJ.

"My pizza!"

Pete jumped out of bed and I followed him. He ran to the kitchen and it was smoking. But there was no fire. He turned the oven off and used the mitt to pull the blackened pizza out. When he was done he rushed To the living room. Mj was standing there hunched over in pain. She looked at us wide eyed and I remembered we were naked. Before anyone could speak she dropped to her knees and groaned in pain.

"MJ! I yelled. I took a deep breath and smoke filled my lungs.

"Megan." Pete ran to her side. Dropping to his knees beside her. "What's wrong? What hurts?"

"I think I'm loosing the baby." She cried. My heart stopped. "It hurts so-" she was cut off by her own screaming.

"I don't think you're losing the baby." Pete told her. His face pale. "MJ, I think you're in labor. This baby's going to live."
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(Joe's POV)

"Pete is late again." I mutter in frustration.

He'd been late every day for the last two weeks. Yes, I knew he was caring for a new born again, but it wasn't the same as last time. Megan was twice the mother Ashlee was. Maybe more. She took care of the baby without a nanny or anything. She'd only been a mother for a months and she was already an expert. So Pete couldn't use that as an excuse. I mean, I was a new dad too. But I scheduled things around my daughter. That way I knew when and where I could be. So I wouldn't have people waiting for a fucking hour!

"It's going to happen a lot more." Andy drummed his fingers against the chair in Patrick's basement. "And Patrick's going to be next."

"No I'm not. I'm organized." Elisa announced her pregnancy to the media without Patrick's consent a few weeks ago. He was mad but it had to happen some time. That what I kept telling him.

"I'm here. I know I'm late!" Pete rushed down the stairs.

"Why are you so late?" I asked.

"I spilled fucking infant formula everywhere! And so I had to put Saint to sleep, clean up the mess, clean off myself, drop Bronx off with Ashlee and drop saint off with MJ."

"Let's just get started." Patrick muttered, going to sit on Pete's lap.

I wasn't sure what their deal was anymore. Still don't think their mad at each other. Andy and I have walked in on them in Pete's house. So the baby didn't put a damper on their sex life. But maybe their relationship was rocky. They still didn't really have conversations with each other. But they spoke.

And their PDA was at a new extreme. The day after a picture of MJ, Pete and Bronx made the cover of a magazine, a picture of Pete and Patrick holding hands surfaced on the web. Patrick would kiss Pete in front of us, MJ, Ashlee, and Elisa. He'd slap his ass and run his fingers through his hair. He even ran his hands though Pete's hair during an interview. Kay had to practically blackmail the people to cut it out of the footage. It was like he was staking a claim. Like a dog peeing on a tree. He was showing Pete was his and who ever came after them should get ready for war.

"Coming in unannounced. Drag my nails on the tile." Pete started.

"I'll just follow your scent, you can just follow my smile." Patrick rhymed after him.

"All of your flaws are aligned with with mood of mine."

"Cutting me to the bone. Nothing left to leave behind."

"You ought to keep me concealed just like I was a weapon."

"I didn't come for a fight, but I will fight to the ending."

"And this one might be a battle. Might not turn out okay."

"And you look so Seattle. But you feel so LA."

Andy and I watched Pete and Patrick go back and forth. Pete starting lyrics. And Patrick matching it with a Rhyming one. We'd never written a song like this. And I don't know if I liked it. I mean the lyrics were good. But watching this battle of words take place was unnerving.

"Okay!" I was happy when Andy interrupted. "That was good. Should we take a break?"

"No." Patrick said. "I had an idea for the hook. I was thinking something like. "And I love the way you hurt me. Its irresistible."

That I actually liked. "And we can make it repetitive like American Beauty."

"I'm going to get you to burst just like you were a bubble." Pete continued.

"Frame me up on your wall just to keep me out of trouble."

"Like a moth getting trapped in the like by fixation."

"Truly free love baby, I'm talking no inflation." And just like that, I'd become a part of their weird game.

The words just slipped from my lips. But that's all I could think while I was watching them. They were promising each other a love and the price of that was going to raise dramatically. Maybe even cost us the band. And the value if that love was going to drop like plummeting stock. If I was remembering correctly from my economics classes, That was exactly what inflation was.

"Too many war wounds and not enough wars. Too few rounds in the ring and not enough settled scores. Too many sharks not enough blood in the waves." Andy added on. I didn't know where that fit in but it was genius. Sometimes Andy was genius.

"You know I give my love a four letter name." Patrick sung, playing in Pete's hair. What did that even mean? Was that a good thing?

"You're second hand smoke. Yeah second hand smoke." Pete whispered into Patrick's face. "I breathe you in but honey, I don't know what you're doing to me."

"Oh Mon chéri." Patrick smiled. "But the truth catches up to us eventually."

"Try to say live. Live and let live."

"But I'm no good at lip service. Except when they're yours." Patrick ran his thumb against Pete's lip. "Mi amor."

"Can we please speak English, Patrick." I groaned playfully.

"Yes, we know you know three words from every language." Andy said and we all laughed at him.

"Fuck you guys."

"I'm coming for you and I'm making war." I tried to mock Patrick's voice. The guys laughed again. This time Patrick joined.

A/N:
Not my best chapter. Not changing it. It still look long to write. But vote and comment and the next one will (might) be better!!