Author: hartandsole (previously morelikerelapse)
Pairing: Pete Wentz/Jon Walker
Summary: After a break-up, Pete does anything he can to erase the memory of his ex and create new memories.
Disclaimer: This isn't real.
Pete stood on the street corner, next to a paint chipped bench. The cool night air sent shivers up and down his spine whenever the golden embers that lit the night sky across the street from him weren’t making his skin sticky with heat. He could hear the crackle of wood being dissolved by the flames and in his head, he saw the pictures melting, the sheets disintegrating; the yellow-orange fire growing against the navy blue backdrop of the sky as it all disappeared. When the sound of fire engine sirens broke the serenity that was when he left.
He didn’t stop until he was on Jon’s front porch, right outside his door. He stared at the white door for what he imagined being hours and decided not to knock on it. He just lay down, curled up and fell asleep.
The next morning, Jon walked outside his front door for a bike ride like he had been doing every morning for a month now, nearly tripping over Pete’s body. He grunted a bit and looked down at the body, scrunching his face up in confusion. “What the?” He knelt down and placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder, gently shaking him. “Pete? What’re you doing here? Wake up, dude…”
Pete jerked awake and looked up at Jon, blinking a few times until he could focus on his face. “What? I just… just wanted to see what it’s like to be outside your door, Jon.”
“All right,” Jon said slowly, nodding a little. He grabbed Pete’s hands and helped him to his feet. “Now you know. So, why are you really here?”
He shrugged his shoulders and Jon picked up on Pete’s disoriented state. “I burnt my house down last night. It was so cool, man; you should have seen it. That fucker just went up in flames like in all those movies.”
“Wait!” Jon exclaimed before he paused, calming himself down quickly. He didn’t need Pete to get irate. “You burnt down your house? …Ugh, come inside.” He grabbed Pete’s arm and dragged him into his house. Pete just grinned and nodded.
Jon sat down on the couch and looked up at Pete, blinking a few times as he tried to make sense of it. “Why would you burn down your house? That’s crazy. And I still don’t understand why you just slept outside. You could have woken me up.”
“I told you. I wanted to know what it was like to be outside your door. And why wouldn’t I burn down my house? That stuff isn’t me anymore,” Pete exclaimed calmly, like he was telling Jon the forecast for the week or something equally as boring.
“Oh,” he said fast as all of Pete’s insanity clicked inside of his head. Maybe it was all those years of friendship they shared that helped Jon understand Pete when he got like this, or maybe there was something inside of Jon that was never applicable to himself but still a part of him nonetheless that he shared with Pete. “Burning your house down isn’t going to make her go away, Petey.”
“No. But I want to start over and what better way than to get rid of everything but the memories? You can get rid of those, too. Just write them down, tear up the pieces and throw them to the wind, really. Then make new ones to replace the old ones,” he began to trail off as he started wandering through Jon’s living room. He stopped at the desk and grabbed out a notebook, along with a pen, before sitting down at the table. “And I’ll get a new house, new sheets, new pictures, new everything!”
“Pete,” Jon groaned out quietly. He got up and walked over to the table where Pete sat down at, scribbling away feverishly onto pieces of paper. Jon assumed it was his memories being spilled out by ink. “You and I both know that those things never really work. Your past, Pete… Pete, it’s a part of you. You can’t just get it removed like a tattoo. It’s going to be with you wherever you go, whatever you do or whomever you do. It’s there.”
Pete just shook his head fast and kept writing down everything for a few minutes until he had written out everything he could think of. He could always come back and write out more, he just needed space for new memories to flood in. He ripped out the pages and tore them up. Pete walked over to the window and tossed the pieces of paper out of the window as the wind began to blow, carrying them off to wherever the wind decided to stop at. “There. Goodbye,” he said quietly.
Pete turned and walked over to Jon, putting his hands on Jon’s chest. “Now, it’s up to you to help me create new memories.”
Jon’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head slowly, his lips pressed together. “No,” he mumbled out. “No, no, no. Come on, Pete, now you’re just being insane.”
“But, you like me. I know you do,” Pete whispered as his face moved in closer to Jon’s face, their lips brushing together. “I’m such a mess right now,” he continued whispering. “Don’t you want to help me? You can fix me.” Pete’s lips finally pressed against Jon’s lips and Jon instinctively grabbed Pete’s hips.
“Stop,” Jon mumbled against Pete’s lips before pulling away from the kiss. “Even if I did like you, which, okay… fine, I do but, I’m not going to do it like this. Not now. It just wouldn’t be right.”
“Why not? I need someone I care about to help me and you’re that person. Just help fix me, Jon. I need you, okay? I fucking love you.” Pete kissed Jon again and Jon paused a moment before giving in. He never could say ‘no’ to Pete over anything to begin with, there wasn’t a need to start now.
It was mid-afternoon and the two men were lying naked in Jon’s bed; Pete curled up in his arms. Jon could build books from the repeated lines he had given Pete, the ones he always gave when something went wrong. The ‘it’s okay’s, ‘everything will work out’s and now, he had a new one to add to the list; ‘I’m right here now.’ Only he wasn’t sure what that exactly meant, the only thing certain was that if Pete wanted him, he’d be whatever it was Pete wanted. And he was okay with that.
Later that night, Jon and Pete went out to get some groceries since Jon would need more with Pete living there. They drove past the corner Pete’s house used to stand on. Pete’s cheek was up against the window and he refused to let himself look at the burnt down mess. Instead, he reached out and grabbed Jon’s hand, his eyes drifting over to Jon’s profile. He didn’t want the wind to blow this away.