The Rise and Fall of King Wentz
Title: The Rise and Fall of King Wentz
Author:
clippedwings
Summary: What might really have been going through Pete's mind following the episode of Punk'd that he unknowingly starred in.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: So I was going to have Pete be more sobby and emo but then this happened and it just sort of went from there. Oh and I'm still waiting for my Pete/evil!Pete and/or evil!Pete/Patrick fic. Also Patrick/fedora fic is a good substitute.
Fuck.
That’s the first thing that goes through Pete’s mind is fuck. His band just humiliated him. His band just had him humiliated in front of national fucking television! And to top things off, he thought it was all fucking real and it’s not.
As soon as the cameras shut off, Pete’s forced smile disappears and he storms off towards the van that transported him. He just doesn’t really feel like being talked to right now. Would you want to have casual conversation after you thought you were the cause of injuries to fucking Mr. And Mrs. Clause from the nearest strip mall? Would you want to strike up chitchat with some freaking producer after you thought you ruined Christmas for those fucking kids from New Orleans?
I didn’t think so.
And so Pete shrugs off a hand on his shoulder and slips into the van. He wishes he could just melt into the seat right now and dissolve into some alternate universe. He doesn’t want to be Pete Wentz right now. Anything to deal with the slack that everyone would be handing out to him.
And what’s worse is that it was his band’s idea! Joe and Andy, well yeah. But Patrick, of all people? The thought of Patrick being in on this made Pete’s gut twist around, and he felt like he was going to throw up.
Pete hears the door open and he doesn’t need to turn to realize who’s standing next to him.
“Can I be alone?” he asks, his voice weak from humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” Patrick replies, and Pete wonders if he can sense his heart breaking. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Honestly? No.” Pete continues to press himself against the one side of the van that doesn’t require him to look at Patrick.
“Pete…you’re going to have to talk about it sometime.” And Pete knows that, but he doesn’t really want to acknowledge that. Because, fuck, what is there to talk about?
“Right now, if I talk about it, I’m probably going to want to strangle you,” he replies bluntly. He can almost hear Patrick’s wince without having to turn around to witness it firsthand.
“Fuck, Pete, it wasn’t even my idea. Joe wanted to get you back for throwing out his pot, Andy wanted to get you back for stealing his Lays and Mountain Dew. I just went along with it because.” Pete feels an arm on his shoulder and he tries to bat it away.
“Because? What the fuck do you have against me?” He spats angrily, and it’s the venomous words that make Patrick recoil.
“I don’t have anything against you. But I wanted to get you back for tearing at my heart.” And oh, Pete definitely doesn’t expect that. Why should Pete expect that because up until now he was pretty sure Patrick was with Anna. And that they were going to get married and have babies any day now.
“Tearing at my heart. And what, Anna’s just for show?” Pete rolls his eyes and continues to stare out the window. Andy and Joe are schmoozing with that guy from KROQ and Pete wonders how much he’d have to glare for them to even sense his anger.
“God, Pete, you’re so clueless, aren’t you.” Pete knows that’s not a question but he can’t help but wonder if there is any doubt to that statement at all. “Can’t you for one second stop thinking about yourself to wonder maybe what this is all about?”
And that’s all that it takes to draw Pete’s eyes away from the window and turn towards Patrick. “I’m not thinking about myself.”
“Aren’t you? ‘Oh, fuck, my band just Punk’d me. Oh, god, I wish I could die right now.’ That’s what you do when this happens. Someone tears you away from your high horse and all you think about is yourself. Well, fuck you, Pete, this isn’t about you!” Patrick’s voice rises to a level Pete isn’t even sure he ever wants to hear again. It’s scary to see Patrick, calm and collected rock on Pete’s shoulder, with fire in his eyes so bright it’s blinding.
“Then mind cluing me in?” Pete spits back and he’s pushing himself into Patrick’s face so closely that their faces are almost touching. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, I wasn’t just humiliated. Did you see what they did? I thought I almost killed those people.”
Patrick’s anger melts away at Pete’s words just a little and he wonders if, yeah, maybe they did go a little too far with this prank. After all, this is the same kid who had those nightmares when he was a kid, who almost killed himself because he just wanted to feel again. “We didn’t mean it to get that out of hand. You know Kutcher…” he whispers, and Pete feels a knife stabbing in his side. But deep down inside, he knows Patrick is telling the truth.
“Why, Patrick?” he asks, and now his resolve has been torn down, and he’s staring at Patrick with wide puppy dog eyes.
“I know what it’s like to be humiliated, Pete,” Patrick says so quietly Pete wonders if he just imagined it. “I’m not dumb. I know what you write about me on the Internet.”
And, crap, that’s not what Pete expected to hear. By now he’s surprised that Andy and Joe are still talking. He wonders if maybe Patrick told them not to come until Patrick was finished. “You…you do.”
“Is any of that even true or are you just teasing them?” Patrick continues, and Pete feels his heart twisting and turning and breaking. He never expected to be confronted like this, not after he was just embarrassed so badly that his heart already shattered once today.
Pete knows that words won’t do him justice. Fuck Anna, fuck Jeanae, fuck everything. He isn’t going to lie anymore because after what just happened? Pete isn’t sure he can handle his band mate, his best friend, hating him for the rest of his life. He places his hand on Patrick’s cheek, tracing his thumb against his chin. He can feel the harsh breath that Patrick takes in and that’s all he needs to keep him strong enough to lean in, lean in and press his lips to Patrick’s. It feels like the first time he’s kissed, all awkward and yet so, so perfect. They don’t move at the same pace, they’re not quite in syncopation, but that’s what all the other kisses are for.
They pull away and both men keep their eyes closed. Pete realizes he isn’t breathing because he’s too afraid if he lets out his breath, he will have imagined the whole thing. But when he feels Patrick’s arms around his neck he knows that is not the case. He peeks open to see Patrick with a grin on his face.
“Anna and I are breaking up. She doesn’t like it that I’m gonna be on another tour really soon,” he whispers, holding Pete tightly as if he were afraid that Pete would disappear if he let go.
“I’m sorry,” Pete whispers back. He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for. He knows it’s not the journal entries or the Q&A in which he managed to slip a few hints. He knows it’s not the kiss. But he knows that there’s something he has to apologize for that spawned this whole Punk’d thing.
And really, that’s very much like Pete Wentz, isn’t it? Not to realize what he’s supposed to be apologizing for, yet doing it anyway. And Patrick knows this. He knows, but that doesn’t stop the smile from cracking through his shell as he rolls up the window so that four very worn out boys could finally leave this reminder of when King Wentz was pushed off his throne.
Author:
clippedwingsSummary: What might really have been going through Pete's mind following the episode of Punk'd that he unknowingly starred in.
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: So I was going to have Pete be more sobby and emo but then this happened and it just sort of went from there. Oh and I'm still waiting for my Pete/evil!Pete and/or evil!Pete/Patrick fic. Also Patrick/fedora fic is a good substitute.
Fuck.
That’s the first thing that goes through Pete’s mind is fuck. His band just humiliated him. His band just had him humiliated in front of national fucking television! And to top things off, he thought it was all fucking real and it’s not.
As soon as the cameras shut off, Pete’s forced smile disappears and he storms off towards the van that transported him. He just doesn’t really feel like being talked to right now. Would you want to have casual conversation after you thought you were the cause of injuries to fucking Mr. And Mrs. Clause from the nearest strip mall? Would you want to strike up chitchat with some freaking producer after you thought you ruined Christmas for those fucking kids from New Orleans?
I didn’t think so.
And so Pete shrugs off a hand on his shoulder and slips into the van. He wishes he could just melt into the seat right now and dissolve into some alternate universe. He doesn’t want to be Pete Wentz right now. Anything to deal with the slack that everyone would be handing out to him.
And what’s worse is that it was his band’s idea! Joe and Andy, well yeah. But Patrick, of all people? The thought of Patrick being in on this made Pete’s gut twist around, and he felt like he was going to throw up.
Pete hears the door open and he doesn’t need to turn to realize who’s standing next to him.
“Can I be alone?” he asks, his voice weak from humiliation.
“I’m sorry,” Patrick replies, and Pete wonders if he can sense his heart breaking. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Honestly? No.” Pete continues to press himself against the one side of the van that doesn’t require him to look at Patrick.
“Pete…you’re going to have to talk about it sometime.” And Pete knows that, but he doesn’t really want to acknowledge that. Because, fuck, what is there to talk about?
“Right now, if I talk about it, I’m probably going to want to strangle you,” he replies bluntly. He can almost hear Patrick’s wince without having to turn around to witness it firsthand.
“Fuck, Pete, it wasn’t even my idea. Joe wanted to get you back for throwing out his pot, Andy wanted to get you back for stealing his Lays and Mountain Dew. I just went along with it because.” Pete feels an arm on his shoulder and he tries to bat it away.
“Because? What the fuck do you have against me?” He spats angrily, and it’s the venomous words that make Patrick recoil.
“I don’t have anything against you. But I wanted to get you back for tearing at my heart.” And oh, Pete definitely doesn’t expect that. Why should Pete expect that because up until now he was pretty sure Patrick was with Anna. And that they were going to get married and have babies any day now.
“Tearing at my heart. And what, Anna’s just for show?” Pete rolls his eyes and continues to stare out the window. Andy and Joe are schmoozing with that guy from KROQ and Pete wonders how much he’d have to glare for them to even sense his anger.
“God, Pete, you’re so clueless, aren’t you.” Pete knows that’s not a question but he can’t help but wonder if there is any doubt to that statement at all. “Can’t you for one second stop thinking about yourself to wonder maybe what this is all about?”
And that’s all that it takes to draw Pete’s eyes away from the window and turn towards Patrick. “I’m not thinking about myself.”
“Aren’t you? ‘Oh, fuck, my band just Punk’d me. Oh, god, I wish I could die right now.’ That’s what you do when this happens. Someone tears you away from your high horse and all you think about is yourself. Well, fuck you, Pete, this isn’t about you!” Patrick’s voice rises to a level Pete isn’t even sure he ever wants to hear again. It’s scary to see Patrick, calm and collected rock on Pete’s shoulder, with fire in his eyes so bright it’s blinding.
“Then mind cluing me in?” Pete spits back and he’s pushing himself into Patrick’s face so closely that their faces are almost touching. “I mean, for fuck’s sake, I wasn’t just humiliated. Did you see what they did? I thought I almost killed those people.”
Patrick’s anger melts away at Pete’s words just a little and he wonders if, yeah, maybe they did go a little too far with this prank. After all, this is the same kid who had those nightmares when he was a kid, who almost killed himself because he just wanted to feel again. “We didn’t mean it to get that out of hand. You know Kutcher…” he whispers, and Pete feels a knife stabbing in his side. But deep down inside, he knows Patrick is telling the truth.
“Why, Patrick?” he asks, and now his resolve has been torn down, and he’s staring at Patrick with wide puppy dog eyes.
“I know what it’s like to be humiliated, Pete,” Patrick says so quietly Pete wonders if he just imagined it. “I’m not dumb. I know what you write about me on the Internet.”
And, crap, that’s not what Pete expected to hear. By now he’s surprised that Andy and Joe are still talking. He wonders if maybe Patrick told them not to come until Patrick was finished. “You…you do.”
“Is any of that even true or are you just teasing them?” Patrick continues, and Pete feels his heart twisting and turning and breaking. He never expected to be confronted like this, not after he was just embarrassed so badly that his heart already shattered once today.
Pete knows that words won’t do him justice. Fuck Anna, fuck Jeanae, fuck everything. He isn’t going to lie anymore because after what just happened? Pete isn’t sure he can handle his band mate, his best friend, hating him for the rest of his life. He places his hand on Patrick’s cheek, tracing his thumb against his chin. He can feel the harsh breath that Patrick takes in and that’s all he needs to keep him strong enough to lean in, lean in and press his lips to Patrick’s. It feels like the first time he’s kissed, all awkward and yet so, so perfect. They don’t move at the same pace, they’re not quite in syncopation, but that’s what all the other kisses are for.
They pull away and both men keep their eyes closed. Pete realizes he isn’t breathing because he’s too afraid if he lets out his breath, he will have imagined the whole thing. But when he feels Patrick’s arms around his neck he knows that is not the case. He peeks open to see Patrick with a grin on his face.
“Anna and I are breaking up. She doesn’t like it that I’m gonna be on another tour really soon,” he whispers, holding Pete tightly as if he were afraid that Pete would disappear if he let go.
“I’m sorry,” Pete whispers back. He’s not sure what he’s apologizing for. He knows it’s not the journal entries or the Q&A in which he managed to slip a few hints. He knows it’s not the kiss. But he knows that there’s something he has to apologize for that spawned this whole Punk’d thing.
And really, that’s very much like Pete Wentz, isn’t it? Not to realize what he’s supposed to be apologizing for, yet doing it anyway. And Patrick knows this. He knows, but that doesn’t stop the smile from cracking through his shell as he rolls up the window so that four very worn out boys could finally leave this reminder of when King Wentz was pushed off his throne.