Sonata.
Development
In the development section the material from the exposition is transformed.
-
Sleeping with Pete was nothing like he thought it would be. Brendon had thought it would be confusing and lonely and somewhere on the edge of unpleasant. He thought Pete would be distant, like he wasn’t really there, like he wasn’t really his.
But in reality it was the exact opposite. Brendon would wake up to warm arms and loving embraces. He would come home to his apartment to find Pete there in a novelty apron trying to cook him dinner and then he would find Pete curled on his sofa with a takeaway when his chef skills failed him.
And when Pete would kiss him, lips just dry, tongue slipping into his mouth slow and dirty, Brendon’s toes would curl against soft carpet. The trail of Pete’s fingers leaving sparks across his skin and breathy moans escaping him. The press of skin against skin, sweat building between them as Pete would mouth a path down his body, biting hard enough to bruise and kissing the pain away. Pushing into him with the kind of excruciating speed that meant Brendon felt every last bit of it. Making sure he was okay, hovering above him with a tenderness in his eyes that was just on the edge of romance.
Pete was strawberries and cream and sand between your toes. He was the things Brendon had dreamed about after watching too many Disney movies late into the night.
But he wasn’t him.
That was the only reason Brendon couldn’t love Pete completely.
-
“Sharing makes for caring.” Brendon’s voice was soft in Ryan’s ear, almost like he was nervous. The cigarette he had been holding was plucked from his fingers and he shivered against the cold wind. It was late in the year, the just twinkling of Christmas lights reflecting in Ryan’s eyes. He turned to see Brendon taking a drag, smoke curling about him. He looked tired.
“You’re here early.”
“I know. She let me in.” Ryan wrapped an arm around himself and looked back out over the garden. Her. His girlfriend. The one he was meant to be in love with. The one who wasn’t Brendon.
“Pete’s sorry he can’t make it.” Brendon’s voice echoed about his thoughts and Ryan felt the nauseas ache at the mention of that name. It had been 6 months and it still felt like the fresh prick of a thorn every time he heard it. Ryan hated how pretentious his own thoughts were. How fucking poetic.
The night air swirled about them, the first of the stars beginning to shine in the night sky. Lips shared a simple kiss and the smell of cigarette smoke ruined blissful innocence.
Love will tear us apart.
-
Panic’s second album wasn’t as good as the first, except maybe it was better. The fans didn’t like it because they didn’t understand. Spencer and Jon just watched knowingly and tried to pretend it didn’t hurt to watch their friends rip each other apart. Brendon liked it because it made him think of those happy endings they could never really have.
-
“Gluttony is ruining our society. I don’t want to want you this badly but I don’t ever want to let you go. You’re the only way I know how to be.”
Brendon blinked into the darkness, eyes unable to focus properly on his bed partner. The curtains were drawn and really, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, his eyesight was pretty poor without his glasses.
“Pete, baby? What’s going on?” He tried to stifle a yawn and reached out, fumbling for his boyfriend in the darkness.
“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.” Pete’s voice sounded uncharacteristically harsh and it made Brendon feel sick. He twisted to turn the lamp on and squinted when the light bore into his eyes.
Pete looked nervous. It was written all over his face, a kind of sickening grimace and an agitated twitch as his fingers danced across the bed sheets. Mapping invisible paths to places inside his mind. He looked pale, eyes dark and sunken in his face. He looked like he had the weight of a hundred secrets resting on his shoulders and it made Brendon’s heart hammer uncomfortably, as if he couldn’t breathe right.
“Pete what is it?” His voice was more alert this time and he shifted closer to the older man, locking their fingers together and holding his gaze.
“You kissed Ryan.”
And Oh. Of course.
“When did you… I mean. How?”
“You tasted different.” It didn’t make sense to Brendon. It never did. His entire body felt cold as Pete got out of bed, pulling on a hoodie as he stood up. The sound of the front door slamming shut felt like ice on his skin and the silence crushed against him.
Brendon loved Pete in the way that he didn’t want to hurt him. So Brendon called Ryan.
-
“I think it’s time to take a break.”
“From what?”
“You.”
-
The split was pretty amicable as break ups go. Spencer and Jon were kind of awesome and nodded with a look of understanding tinged with concern and Brendon looked at him like the whole world was ending. Maybe it was.
The awkward tension was on the brink of unbearable and when Brendon stood up too fast, claiming he needed to go outside for a fag, Ryan couldn’t help but flinch at the venom he heard in his voice. It didn’t fit Brendon right and it made Ryan hurt. He followed the singer a few minutes later, standing in the doorway and watching as Brendon inhaled and exhaled. He made it look so beautiful and all the lyricist wanted to do was love.
“This won’t change what happened. Pete will still know.” Brendon spun around, his eyes burning with misery masked as hatred. It was a face Ryan was all too familiar with, one he’d worn for too long.
“Don’t fucking talk to me about Pete. You have no idea.”
“No idea of what, Brendon? Of how much you want him? Of how he’s everything you’ve ever wanted? Of how much you love him? Who are you trying to fool, because you can’t fool me. Not now. Not after all of this.” He didn’t realise he’d been moving, but when Ryan paused to breathe, his forehead was pressed against Brendon’s, their breath meeting in the space between them. Brendon smelt of peppermint.
“Of how much I don’t want to mess up something this good.”
“He was messed up to begin with.” Except Ryan knew that wasn’t what Brendon meant, not really. He’d just become too good at hiding behind his words and Ryan knew it was a side effect of too much time with Pete Wentz. Brendon’s smiled was crooked as he pulled away from their embrace and Ryan was left alone in the cold as the first snow of the year began to fall around him.
It was the millionth time that Ryan thought Brendon was better off without him.
-
Patrick was probably more observant than people gave him credit for. So when Pete was sat across the table from him explaining how badly he wanted Brendon to love him and how much he knew he never would, Patrick kind of felt like he’d heard it all before. Because really he knew. He’d always known from the way Brendon had given the bassist shy glances across the room and the way Pete had smiled at the young boy like he’d found something golden. The way he'd smiled at Patrick once upon a time.
“Are you prepared to let him go? If you have to. If he says he doesn’t want you.” Pete didn’t answer, just looked at Patrick with those eyes that told a million tales.
“Can love ever be enough?” Patrick stood up, discarding his empty coffee cup in the sink and placing a hand on Pete’s shoulder, relishing in the familiarity he found there. Just by feeling.
“You’ll be okay, Pete.” And then Patrick was gone and when Pete’s phone vibrated with one new message, he thought that maybe one day he would be.
-
It took Pete approximately 15 minutes to forgive Brendon and approximately 15 seconds to have him pushed against the wall, tongue in mouth and his hand snaking its way up his shirt.
“So, we’re all good here, right?” Brendon gasped between kisses, eyes rolling into the back of his head when Pete’s lips attached to his neck.
“Well, don’t go around kissing other guys, and I’ll see what I can do.” Pete bit at Brendon’s skin a little too hard and despite the pain of it, Brendon’s hips bucked and he let out a loud moan. He felt Pete smile against his skin and a warm hand travelled down his side, resting at the waistband of his boxers.
“Come on. Pete.” Brendon’s voice came out as a whine and although he didn’t mean to, he knew he was begging for it. Desperate to be touched as his erection pressed uncomfortably against his jeans. God, did he want to be touched. Pete smiled at him again and pressed a kiss so soft against his lips that for a moment Brendon forgot about his desperation and just kissed back.
He was reminded of their current situation when he felt Pete’s hips grind against his, the press of their dicks creating a friction that made Brendon gasp. He closed his eyes, breath laboured and chest heaving as Pete’s hand slid between them, rubbing Brendon through his jeans before slipping his hand past Brendon's waistband, into his boxers.
“God, Bren.” Pete groaned, body convulsing as he pressed his crotch against Brendon’s thigh, Brendon mouthing a sloppy path across Pete’s jaw. The older man had reached a steady rhythm, using his thumb to smear the precum across Brendon’s dick, biting on his bottom lip in concentration. The younger man exhaled shakily, opening his eyes to watch Pete intensely. He looked beautiful, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat, pupils dilated and lips swollen and red. He looked beautiful and Brendon couldn’t help but think mine. He lunged forward, connecting their lips in a messy kiss, sucking Pete’s bottom lip into his mouth and twining their tongues together. Pete moaned into his mouth, rutting erratically against Brendon’s leg as the pace of his hand quickened.
“I’m going, I’m going to. Oh god.” The words were mumbled against Brendon’s lips but he understood anyway, nodding in agreement as his hips crushed against his boyfriend’s. It only took a few more strokes before Brendon was coming. Hard. White spots forming behind his eyelids as his head fell back, jaw slack, moaning loudly. He felt Pete’s lips attach to his throat, sucking hard as Pete followed his actions before collapsing against Brendon.
They both stood there for a moment, leaning against the wall, struggling to get their breath back. After about 5 minutes, their fingers entwined and Pete was pulling Brendon to bed, a pleasant thrum in his chest.
-
Brendon woke up the next morning to butterflies in his chest and gentle presses against his skin, the words ‘missed you’ repeatedly whispered against his collarbone.
These were the reasons Brendon had hoped he and Pete could make forever.
It was the tears pressing against his eyes and clogging his throat that meant Brendon wished that was enough.
-
Sleeping with Pete was nothing like he thought it would be. Brendon had thought it would be confusing and lonely and somewhere on the edge of unpleasant. He thought Pete would be distant, like he wasn’t really there, like he wasn’t really his.
But in reality it was the exact opposite. Brendon would wake up to warm arms and loving embraces. He would come home to his apartment to find Pete there in a novelty apron trying to cook him dinner and then he would find Pete curled on his sofa with a takeaway when his chef skills failed him.
And when Pete would kiss him, lips just dry, tongue slipping into his mouth slow and dirty, Brendon’s toes would curl against soft carpet. The trail of Pete’s fingers leaving sparks across his skin and breathy moans escaping him. The press of skin against skin, sweat building between them as Pete would mouth a path down his body, biting hard enough to bruise and kissing the pain away. Pushing into him with the kind of excruciating speed that meant Brendon felt every last bit of it. Making sure he was okay, hovering above him with a tenderness in his eyes that was just on the edge of romance.
Pete was strawberries and cream and sand between your toes. He was the things Brendon had dreamed about after watching too many Disney movies late into the night.
But he wasn’t him.
That was the only reason Brendon couldn’t love Pete completely.
-
“Sharing makes for caring.” Brendon’s voice was soft in Ryan’s ear, almost like he was nervous. The cigarette he had been holding was plucked from his fingers and he shivered against the cold wind. It was late in the year, the just twinkling of Christmas lights reflecting in Ryan’s eyes. He turned to see Brendon taking a drag, smoke curling about him. He looked tired.
“You’re here early.”
“I know. She let me in.” Ryan wrapped an arm around himself and looked back out over the garden. Her. His girlfriend. The one he was meant to be in love with. The one who wasn’t Brendon.
“Pete’s sorry he can’t make it.” Brendon’s voice echoed about his thoughts and Ryan felt the nauseas ache at the mention of that name. It had been 6 months and it still felt like the fresh prick of a thorn every time he heard it. Ryan hated how pretentious his own thoughts were. How fucking poetic.
The night air swirled about them, the first of the stars beginning to shine in the night sky. Lips shared a simple kiss and the smell of cigarette smoke ruined blissful innocence.
Love will tear us apart.
-
Panic’s second album wasn’t as good as the first, except maybe it was better. The fans didn’t like it because they didn’t understand. Spencer and Jon just watched knowingly and tried to pretend it didn’t hurt to watch their friends rip each other apart. Brendon liked it because it made him think of those happy endings they could never really have.
-
“Gluttony is ruining our society. I don’t want to want you this badly but I don’t ever want to let you go. You’re the only way I know how to be.”
Brendon blinked into the darkness, eyes unable to focus properly on his bed partner. The curtains were drawn and really, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise, his eyesight was pretty poor without his glasses.
“Pete, baby? What’s going on?” He tried to stifle a yawn and reached out, fumbling for his boyfriend in the darkness.
“I couldn’t sleep. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’m sorry.” Pete’s voice sounded uncharacteristically harsh and it made Brendon feel sick. He twisted to turn the lamp on and squinted when the light bore into his eyes.
Pete looked nervous. It was written all over his face, a kind of sickening grimace and an agitated twitch as his fingers danced across the bed sheets. Mapping invisible paths to places inside his mind. He looked pale, eyes dark and sunken in his face. He looked like he had the weight of a hundred secrets resting on his shoulders and it made Brendon’s heart hammer uncomfortably, as if he couldn’t breathe right.
“Pete what is it?” His voice was more alert this time and he shifted closer to the older man, locking their fingers together and holding his gaze.
“You kissed Ryan.”
And Oh. Of course.
“When did you… I mean. How?”
“You tasted different.” It didn’t make sense to Brendon. It never did. His entire body felt cold as Pete got out of bed, pulling on a hoodie as he stood up. The sound of the front door slamming shut felt like ice on his skin and the silence crushed against him.
Brendon loved Pete in the way that he didn’t want to hurt him. So Brendon called Ryan.
-
“I think it’s time to take a break.”
“From what?”
“You.”
-
The split was pretty amicable as break ups go. Spencer and Jon were kind of awesome and nodded with a look of understanding tinged with concern and Brendon looked at him like the whole world was ending. Maybe it was.
The awkward tension was on the brink of unbearable and when Brendon stood up too fast, claiming he needed to go outside for a fag, Ryan couldn’t help but flinch at the venom he heard in his voice. It didn’t fit Brendon right and it made Ryan hurt. He followed the singer a few minutes later, standing in the doorway and watching as Brendon inhaled and exhaled. He made it look so beautiful and all the lyricist wanted to do was love.
“This won’t change what happened. Pete will still know.” Brendon spun around, his eyes burning with misery masked as hatred. It was a face Ryan was all too familiar with, one he’d worn for too long.
“Don’t fucking talk to me about Pete. You have no idea.”
“No idea of what, Brendon? Of how much you want him? Of how he’s everything you’ve ever wanted? Of how much you love him? Who are you trying to fool, because you can’t fool me. Not now. Not after all of this.” He didn’t realise he’d been moving, but when Ryan paused to breathe, his forehead was pressed against Brendon’s, their breath meeting in the space between them. Brendon smelt of peppermint.
“Of how much I don’t want to mess up something this good.”
“He was messed up to begin with.” Except Ryan knew that wasn’t what Brendon meant, not really. He’d just become too good at hiding behind his words and Ryan knew it was a side effect of too much time with Pete Wentz. Brendon’s smiled was crooked as he pulled away from their embrace and Ryan was left alone in the cold as the first snow of the year began to fall around him.
It was the millionth time that Ryan thought Brendon was better off without him.
-
Patrick was probably more observant than people gave him credit for. So when Pete was sat across the table from him explaining how badly he wanted Brendon to love him and how much he knew he never would, Patrick kind of felt like he’d heard it all before. Because really he knew. He’d always known from the way Brendon had given the bassist shy glances across the room and the way Pete had smiled at the young boy like he’d found something golden. The way he'd smiled at Patrick once upon a time.
“Are you prepared to let him go? If you have to. If he says he doesn’t want you.” Pete didn’t answer, just looked at Patrick with those eyes that told a million tales.
“Can love ever be enough?” Patrick stood up, discarding his empty coffee cup in the sink and placing a hand on Pete’s shoulder, relishing in the familiarity he found there. Just by feeling.
“You’ll be okay, Pete.” And then Patrick was gone and when Pete’s phone vibrated with one new message, he thought that maybe one day he would be.
-
It took Pete approximately 15 minutes to forgive Brendon and approximately 15 seconds to have him pushed against the wall, tongue in mouth and his hand snaking its way up his shirt.
“So, we’re all good here, right?” Brendon gasped between kisses, eyes rolling into the back of his head when Pete’s lips attached to his neck.
“Well, don’t go around kissing other guys, and I’ll see what I can do.” Pete bit at Brendon’s skin a little too hard and despite the pain of it, Brendon’s hips bucked and he let out a loud moan. He felt Pete smile against his skin and a warm hand travelled down his side, resting at the waistband of his boxers.
“Come on. Pete.” Brendon’s voice came out as a whine and although he didn’t mean to, he knew he was begging for it. Desperate to be touched as his erection pressed uncomfortably against his jeans. God, did he want to be touched. Pete smiled at him again and pressed a kiss so soft against his lips that for a moment Brendon forgot about his desperation and just kissed back.
He was reminded of their current situation when he felt Pete’s hips grind against his, the press of their dicks creating a friction that made Brendon gasp. He closed his eyes, breath laboured and chest heaving as Pete’s hand slid between them, rubbing Brendon through his jeans before slipping his hand past Brendon's waistband, into his boxers.
“God, Bren.” Pete groaned, body convulsing as he pressed his crotch against Brendon’s thigh, Brendon mouthing a sloppy path across Pete’s jaw. The older man had reached a steady rhythm, using his thumb to smear the precum across Brendon’s dick, biting on his bottom lip in concentration. The younger man exhaled shakily, opening his eyes to watch Pete intensely. He looked beautiful, fringe stuck to his forehead with sweat, pupils dilated and lips swollen and red. He looked beautiful and Brendon couldn’t help but think mine. He lunged forward, connecting their lips in a messy kiss, sucking Pete’s bottom lip into his mouth and twining their tongues together. Pete moaned into his mouth, rutting erratically against Brendon’s leg as the pace of his hand quickened.
“I’m going, I’m going to. Oh god.” The words were mumbled against Brendon’s lips but he understood anyway, nodding in agreement as his hips crushed against his boyfriend’s. It only took a few more strokes before Brendon was coming. Hard. White spots forming behind his eyelids as his head fell back, jaw slack, moaning loudly. He felt Pete’s lips attach to his throat, sucking hard as Pete followed his actions before collapsing against Brendon.
They both stood there for a moment, leaning against the wall, struggling to get their breath back. After about 5 minutes, their fingers entwined and Pete was pulling Brendon to bed, a pleasant thrum in his chest.
-
Brendon woke up the next morning to butterflies in his chest and gentle presses against his skin, the words ‘missed you’ repeatedly whispered against his collarbone.
These were the reasons Brendon had hoped he and Pete could make forever.
It was the tears pressing against his eyes and clogging his throat that meant Brendon wished that was enough.