If He Only Knew 1/1

IF HE ONLY KNEW

 
Patrick wasn’t sure when he realized the truth.

 

Maybe it was the first time he’d lost his hat on stage and Pete had oh so casually picked it up and put it back on his head.  Or maybe it was even earlier than that—maybe it was when Pete had first entrusted Patrick with his very personal lyrics.  “Make music for me, ‘Trick,” Pete had said, handing him an untidy sheaf of paper.  “Make sense of it all.”

 

No, Patrick couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment.  But, he knew that somewhere between that first introduction and now, he had fallen hard for Pete Wentz.

 

Patrick knew everyone did that at some point.  Otherwise, who would put up with Pete’s tragic, melodramatic bullshit?  After all, Pete had major issues that would drive most people away.  Pete was needy and neurotic, and a million other things that all added up to bad news for any relationship.

 

Not to mention, he was very friendly.

 

Patrick had taken to surfing the fan fiction sites when he was alone, attempting to vicariously live out this fantasy relationship through the words of dreaming fans.  He had found one where Pete had been described as liking people, which was as apt a description as Patrick had ever heard.

 

All of these reasons kept Patrick quiet.  Sure, Pete joked about it all the time—hell, he had even suggested on one of the message boards that he would marry Patrick if it was legal.  But that’s all it was to Pete—a joke.  The fans thought it was cute.

 

If they only knew.

 

It tore Patrick’s heart when Pete picked up the random girls in every town.  He knew what Pete was looking for—Pete told the world in every lyric he wrote.  Pete just didn’t know how much Patrick wanted to turn to him and scream at him; to turn to Pete and say, I can give this to you.

 

But, Patrick stayed silent.  In the meanwhile, everyone who met Pete fell a little bit in love with him.  Pete couldn’t understand it.

 

Sometimes, when they were apart—when Pete was making one of the millions of public appearances that scared the shit out of him, and Patrick was working with the Hush Sound or one of the other bands Pete had discovered, Patrick would get messages from Pete.  I miss you.  Wish you were here or I was there.  And Patrick would read the message and reply.  Then, he would wait.  It always came.

 

The message from Pete.  Text, voice, it didn’t matter.  Pete always said, I love you.  To anyone else, it would seem like an afterthought.  Patrick, however, knew what it meant.  Pete, always insecure, always looking for the affirmation that he was loved, that someone did actually care.

 

Patrick loved Pete from afar.  He thought Andy might suspect; Andy would give Patrick sharp glances anytime Pete would profess his love for Patrick.  But, Patrick just smiled the smile that said, it’s Pete.  I’m used to this.  He’s not serious.

 

Patrick kept a journal.  No one knew about this journal; he kept it well hidden.  It was filled with thoughts about Pete.  If Pete only knew what was inside this journal, he could never feel unloved.  There were several pages filled with nothing but I love Pete Wentz, like a schoolgirl with a crush.  This was Patrick’s secret.

 

Then, the unthinkable happened.

 

They were actually staying in a hotel, not the tour bus.  Pete always shared a room with Patrick—officially.  Most times, Pete had a ‘spare’ room to use for his ‘friends.’

 

Tonight was different.

 

Patrick walked out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, expecting to be alone.

 

He wasn’t.  Pete was sitting on one of the beds, reading a notebook.  He looked up when Patrick entered, and Patrick realized with horror that it wasn’t just any notebook.

 

It was Patrick’s journal.

 

Pete held up the notebook, his expression one of shock.  “Do you really . . . .” he began, then shook his head.  “You couldn’t.”

 

Patrick’s heart broke when he heard those words.  Summoning up every bit of courage he had, he said, “I mean every word.”

 

Pete’s eyes widened,, and before Patrick realized what was happening, he was pinned against the wall, Pete’s hands restlessly exploring his body, and Pete’s tongue curiously exploring his mouth.  And, oh, it was everything Patrick could ever had hoped for; everything he’d ever dreamed about . . . .

And then, Patrick awoke.  Alone.

 

If he only knew . . . .

 

 

THE END