(Pete's POV)

Our manager loved the sound of Novocaine. Disney loved the sound of Immortals. Our producer loved the sound of The Kid's Aren't Alright. And everyone lived the sound of American Beauty/ American Psycho. Well everyone except Patrick Stump. Which is exactly how I wanted it.

Tonight, we were doing a listening session for Immortals and The kids aren't alright. I loved playing the smaller places. I grabbed a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. No need to get fancy, we were going to be in a dimly lit room the entire time. Joe and Andy should be here any minute to pick me up. Smiling in the mirror, I remember the childish purchases I made earlier today. I went to my closet and took out the burgundy cardigan and black fedora. This was going to be fun. The doorbell rung and I grabbed up my new glasses on the way to get it.

"Dude!" Joe laughed as soon as the door opened.

"Why? Just why?" Andy sighed. "Do you want him to hit you? Is that what this is?"

"So you don't like my new look?" I took the hat off of my head and they both gasped at my very blonde hair.

"Dude!" Joe said again, running his hands through it to make sure it was real. "This is going to be awesome."

"This is going to be a disaster!" Andy disagreed. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I'm going to sing." I grinned.

"What?!"

"Since Patrick won't sing American Beauty for the sitting, I'm going to."

"Shut up!" Joe's vocabulary seemed very limited this evening. But at least he was laughing. That's what I wanted from this look. Laughter from everyone else. Anger from Patrick.

"You don't sing." Andy reminded me.

"I will tonight."

"Dude, you're blonde." Joe seemed to not believe it. I put the hat back on my head and winked.

"Call me Barbie Pete."

We pulled up to the place about twenty minutes later. Patrick was already in there. He'd come early for singers soundcheck or something like that. I got Joe to take a picture of me outside the small bar. So I could post it to Twitter and Instagram. Both with the caption of 'Call Me Barbie Pete.' I made sure I let a little of the blonde hair show in front of the hat.

When we walked in the door, Patrick was no where to be seen. There were a few people sitting around already. One being MJ. What was she doing here? I walked over to her and noticed she was sitting beside Elisa. I paused but they'd already saw me. I watched Elisa's face for any sign of anger. It was impossible for her to have not heard my yelling the other day. So she knew I slept with her her husband. She heard all the things I said about her. But instead of the suspected anger, her face lit up with humor.

"Patrick is going to love this!" She stood and hugged me. My eyes widened. Either she really was in a coma that day or she was a great actress. She let me go and stood back to examine me with a large smile. She laughed. "Is that a permanent blonde?" I nodded. She laughed again.

"It suits you." Megan stood then and kissed my cheek. I didn't know how to react. Why was she here? She seemed to read my mind. "Elisa asked me to come because she didn't want to be the only pregnant one in the room." She smiled at her.

"How is my little man?" I placed my hand on her large stomach, hoping to feel him moving, but I didn't. "Has he been active?"

"Not that much today, thankfully." MJ rolled her eyes playfully. "So don't you go getting him all excited. You won't have to sit through hours of a little human kicking your insides." I smiled. "How's Bronx?"

"He's great. You can come see him some time." Andy motioned me over. "We'll talk about it later. I have to get going."

So I lied about being engaged to her. Sue me. I actually rarely spoke to her unless itbwas concerning our son. I rushed over to where Andy was. Joe must already have been in the back with Patrick. So we followed them in there. I walked in and Patrick glanced up at me briefly before turning away. I saw him freeze before he slowly turned back to face me. Staring with narrowed eyes. Trohman was looking excitedly between us. Andy looked wary.

"Why?" Was all Patrick said and I smiled.

"Why what?" I tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Why are you such a fucking child?" His voice was harder.

"What ever do you mean?" I took my hat fully off and he gasped. Closing his eyes briefly, he took a few deep breaths.

"Joe, I told you I would try to be nice." Joe nodded. "I tried." He lunged for me and Joe and Andy grabbed him to keep him still. I smiled wider. I hadn't expected such a violent reaction. It was just clothes and hair. But I was glad to get one. I wanted him to be as mad at me as I was at him.

"You gonna hit me, Patrick?" I mocked.

"Pete stop." Joe commanded.

"Just let me hit him once! Once! He bruised my chin. It's not fair!"

"Boys, you're on." A tall man with a clipboard told us. Patrick calmed down and walked past me, bumping my shoulder roughly. Andy walked past next. Joe stopped beside me.

"That's enough, Pete. Are you trying to ruin the band?" I shook my head. "Them you're not singing tonight."
**** **** **** **** **** ****
(Patrick's POV)

Everything went off without a hitch. We performed the two songs and also Centuries. The crowd loved it. I expected Pete to try some stupid stunt, but he didn't. He played and stayed on his side of the small stage. I don't know where my sudden burst of anger came from before. It was too much. The fight, him punching me, management trying to shove his song down my throat and Elisa being back were all just bubbling under my skin. And then he walks in dressed like me. Hair dyed like mine. Smirking that cocky fucking smirk. I snapped.

We finished playing and left the stage. Elisa and MJ walked directly up to me. Elisa hugged me. I wasn't sure how to take Elisa now a days. I know, almost for a fact, that she'd heard every word Pete and I uttered that day. But she pretended not to know a thing. Even going as far as to ask me why Pete and I weren't speaking.

"You sounded great." She kissed me. "MJ and I are headed out. I'll see you when you get home. MJ waved and I smiled and waved back.

I needed a drink. A lot of drinks. It was luckily open bar. I took a seat and suddenly decided I wanted to get roaring drunk. So I told the bartender to fill my cup up every time it empties and she did. It became a fun game. How fast can she come to fill it up after I finished it. She'd pour and I'd wait until she was on the other side of the bar, helping some one else. And then I'd drink as fast as I could. Within seconds she'd be filling me up again. It was fun.

Someone sat beside me and I turned to look. Peter Wentz. I knew I was supposed to be angry at him. But my clouded mind couldn't think of why. So I just glared at him. He looked back at me with a lazy look. His eyes were glazed over. He was obviously drunk. Some people just can't hold their alcohol. He finished off his drink and stood up, grabbing my hand to pull me up to.

"What are you doing?" I asked angrily. I was supposed to be mad. I was supposed to be mad. Why was I mad? I don't know!

"Dance with me!" He slurred excitedly.

I think I was supposed to say no. But he looked so cute in his cardigan and blonde hair, I couldn't. I let him drag me to the middle of the crowded dance floor. The song was changing and I started to move to the rhythm as best as I could. Pete was moving beside me. I twirled my hips around and Pete placed his hands on my waist.

Pretty soon we were dancing with so much energy and conviction, I felt like a professional. All I could hear was the music. All I could feel was Pete. All I could see were flashing lights and people moving too quickly around up. My vision was fogging and my throat was burning after the immense amount of alcohol consumption. The song turned switched to an upbeat song. Begging for us to shut up and dance. Pete and I began jumping around each other. No longer keeping to a beat. I felt so free dancing with Pete. All the problems went away and adrenaline was rushing. If I could stay like this until I died, I'd happily do it.

The song changed again and suddenly Pete had his back side pressed against me. Pushing himself into me with his hands resting on his knees. I didn't know what to do so I danced along with it. The speakers screaming 'My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns hun' at me. Pete was laughing and dancing away. Other people were laughing and doing similar dances. And then Pete was sitting up straight. His arms around my neck and his ass even more pressed into me. I dropped my hands to his waist and rocked back and forth. We needed to stop. I was hard out of my mind. But he kept moving against me. I tried to old him still but it didn't work. My head was pounding. My throat was burning. I felt like I was walking through deep fog. His hair brushed under my nose and my self restraint snapped. My anaconda did.

I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me towards the bathroom. I don't know whether it was female or male. All I know is that it was empty. Pete locked the door and pushed me up against it. I watched him as he dropped to his knees in front of me. I looked up at the ceiling and groaned. God, I dreamed about that mouth.
**** **** **** **** **** ****

I knew I was in Pete's house as soon as I opened my eyes. He had that damn mirror above his bed. My head was pounding like a drum's beat. Thank goodness he had thick, black curtains to keep the sunlight out. He was curled up against me, snoring softly. We were both fully clothed. I guess that meant we didn't fuck in his house. But that didn't mean we didn't fuck at all. Images of the bar bathroom filled my head like a dirty slideshow. I can't believe I let him blow me in the bathroom. I can't
believe I let him bend me over that sink.
It had to the the alcohol. Alcohol and good
music could work miracles.

He must have screwed the anger right out of me. Because for the life of me, I couldn't remember why I was so angry. Yeah, he'd gotten a woman pregnant, but I'd done the same thing. He talked badly about my wife, but not half as bad as the stuff I said about MJ. He'd punched me... That one I was still upset about. He wrote a song about very personal problems. But all musicians did that. And he'd mocked my style. But he did look damn good in blonde.

I snuggled closer to him in the bed to bury my face in his hair. Later on I might be angry again but right now I was content. I closed my eyes against the throbbing in my head. Maybe if I go back to sleep, my head will feel better. But when I inhaled, my eyes snapped open again. I buried my face even deeper into his hair. A bitter sweet fragrance filled my nose. Making my head throb more. He smelled dirty. Like the hot sex in the bathroom. Extremely hot sex. But he also smelled sweet like some sort of perfume. A really strong feminine perfume. I couldn't go back to sleep with that scent hovering around me. It was too enticing.

I'd decided to just lay there and wait for Pete to wake up. Then we'd have a long conversation about all the events that led up to this moment. I closed my eyes and again was interrupted. This time by the extremely loud sound of some one banging on the front door. I looked over at Pete but he didn't stir. My head was pounding twice as hard. I scrambled out of the bed and over to the door. Hitting my toe on the dresser on the way out.

"Shit!" I stopped to examine it. Something shinny caught my eye on the dresser and I leaned over to lift it up. A perfume bottle. I raised it up to my nose and sniffed. Of course Pete would buy female perfume. The label read Eternity by Calvin Klein. It smelled nice but not half as good as Pete did now. I placed it back down and rushed to the door. It swung open revealing Joe and Andy.

"Patrick!?" Andy looked confused.

"Why are you yelling?" I glared. The light from outside was beaming into the house. The brightness made my eyes burn. "Come in. Come in." I motioned for them to come in the house so I could close the door.

"I told you they'd have sex." Joe nudged Andy.

"Keep your voices down!"

"We're talking normally."

"Somebody's got a HANGOVER!" Joe yelled the last word and I cringed. I needed coffee. I walked to Pete's kitchen and started up the machine. The guys followed me in.

"So how does one go from trying tonattack someone to having sex in a matter of hours?"

"That, my friend." Joe put his hand on his shoulder. "Would be the power of alcohol and pent up frustration. It has the ability to move mountains."

Andy shrugged his hand off. "So are you two back together now?" I widened my eyes. "I mean are you can friends again?"

"Oh, this is ridiculous! We know you were together!"

"Stop yelling." I sighed and then shrugged.

"Wow, alcohol can do that?" Andy asked. Ah, my little innocent, straight edge.

"That and epic sex." I grabbed a cup and poured the coffee.

"TMI" Joe laughed. "So you want to be with him again?"

I took a long sip of the black coffee, hoping to ease the pounding in my head. "I love that son of a bitch." I admitted. Joe and Andy shared a look. "But I hate him too."

"How do you know that?"

"Because I want to keep him forever. Til death do us part." It felt good finally having someone to tell this stuff to that wasn't Pete.

"Like the oath you made to Elisa at your wedding?" I sighed.

"I glad you didn't dance like that at your wedding." Andy joked. Lightening the mood.

"Too sexual?" I smiled.

"More like to void of rhythm." Joe laughed loudly. My head pounded but I smiled through it. "It reminded me of the scene from pulp fiction where Uma Thurman and John Travolta were dancing!"

"That too accurate!" Any laughed

"Can we get on with writing?" I faked anger.
**** **** **** **** **** ****
(Joe's POV)

Pete still hasn't woken up. Patrick wanted to wait until he got up on his own so he'd be in a better mood. But we were still writing. I can't believe Patrick expressed actual feeling to us. Love?

I knew they had to feel strongly for each other. Pete was Patrick's first relationship when he was just a kid. But afterwards they both moved on. Got into serious relationships. Pete got married and had a kid. And then Patrick got married. Even after the hiatus, I thought it was just sex. That's all it seemed to be on tour. But now love? They were both with women expecting children. It wasn't right. I could never picture leaving my wife and child.

"Okay so with the alcohol influence thing to start." Andy snapped me out of my thoughts. "It can move mountains. It can work a miracle. Work a miracle."

"I think we should switch that to I can." I suggested. They both agreed. "And add the vows. Keep you like an oath. May nothing but death do us part." Patrick wrote it down.

"He wants to dance like Uma Thurman. Bury me til I confess. He wants to dance like Uma Thurman and I can't get him out of my head." Patrick sung.

"Confess what?" Andy asked.

"That I want to dance just as bad as he does." He looked at the closed bedroom door.

"Should we keep it to he?" I asked. "We're all seen as four straight men."

"Good point." Patrick rewrote it to she. I know he was talking about Pete. That's why he came naturally.

"I think the rant Patrick wrote would go well here." Andy chimed in.

"You mean, The stench of summer sex. And CK's Eternity. Oh hell yes. It divides me down to the smallest I can be. Put your venom in me?"

"Talking about me, stump?" We all looked up at Pete's voice. He came walking into the room. Sitting down beside me.

"Hey, Pete." Patrick said softly.

"The blood of the lamb is worth two lions, but here I am." Andy interrupted their moment with his favorite lyric.

"I slept in last nights clothes and tomorrow's dreams. But their not quite what they seem." Pete added randomly.

"That's actually genius." I smiled. "And then I can add my part for the end hook. You'll find a way. And may death find you alive. Take me down the line. In gem city we turn the tide."

"I love it!" Andy cheered. I was about agree when we heard someone scream.

"Daddy!" Bronx came running into the kitchen. With Ashlee a few feet behind.

A/N:
Okay so this is a ridiculously long chapter and it's sorta badly written. I apologize. But vote and comment anyway because it'll make me feel better!