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“Trouble.”
There is, suddenly and inexplicably, a tangle of hair blocking Mikey’s view of the stage.
“What?” He says, blinking up at Toro, who’s backlit by the sun, but he has his arms crossed, which is always a bad sign.
“I can see it coming from miles away, Mikes,” Ray sighs and sits, shoving his knee against Mikey’s own. “This is going to be trouble.”
Mikey lets his eyes drift back over to the stage, where Patrick’s singing and Joe’s doing that spinning thing he does, but mostly Pete is lit up and grinning like a madman.
“Yeah, probably,” he says, shrugging with the admission and feeling the warmth in his chest. He grins, and he knows it’s kind of dopey.
“As long as you know,” Ray says. “I guess.”
~
“I swear to you, I will cut you, motherfucker. Don’t mess with me.”
Iero’s terrifying.
Like, not actually, in daily life. Well, okay sometimes then too, although Pete’s pretty sure they’d make an awesome team-up, and he’ll have to get on that one of these days. But right now, he’s definitely scary, because there’s nobody else around, tucked in between the buses like this and Pete can tell that he’s in no way fucking around.
“Isn’t this Gerard’s job?” Pete smirks, because that’s easier.
“He knows how to delegate.” Iero crosses his arms, but then he deflates a little. “Plus, he’s pretty sure that Mikey, like, knows what he’s doing or something, which is fucking ridiculous, because I love that fucker, but he’s completely incompetent.”
“Not completely.” Pete says, and his smile feels more real this time. Frank’s still giving him the side-eye, though. “Look,” Pete sighs and looks for an escape route one more time before giving up the ghost. “I’m a fucking mess. And it’s probably fucking stupid, but we-” he has to stop, close his eyes, because something’s welling up in his mouth, his throat and it’s a little too close to the truth. “We're good. I’m a mess, he’s incompetent and we’re both in these crazy-ass bands. And you’ll cut me if there’s trouble. But, I mean, we’re good. Him and me.”
Frank’s arms drop to his sides.
“Fine.” One last glare and he walks away, throwing back over his shoulder, “Make sure it stays that way.”
~
“Today was stupid,” Pete says against Mikey’s lips, which are smiling.
“Really, really, fucking stupid.” Mikey agrees as he slides a hand up the back of Pete’s shirt. He presses his forehead against Pete’s temple and they grin together.