Work Text:
"Do you ever feel like we're moving too fast?" Trick decides to dump on Jo after a long show. Maybe it wasn't really long, but it was for them. Andi didn't talk; Jo made a few comments, and Trick and Pet riffed until Trick felt angsty about feeling their best friend's lips on their neck and pushed her off. They feel sweaty, a bit like they're dying, and like they've had the best workout and the worst throat massage ever.
"Whoa there, Lunchbox, take it down a few notches." She snorts, ruffling up their hair as they pout. "Don't tease me, Trohman, I'm frankly not in the mood for any bullshit." They bit their lip, causing Jo to raise an eyebrow.
"Jesus, who slipped something in your coffee today? Can't you go bug Andi about this metaphorical stuff? I'm tired." She sighed, looking only slightly annoyed.
Trick wanted to twist her stupid right boob. Which totally didn't have a bra covering it. Talk about inappropriate.
Trick decides to stop thinking about their best friend's boobs because that's supposed to be weird.
"Because Andi disappeared off with those girls from Cobra Starship with Pet and because I'm lazy and can't care enough to ask someone else." Jo rolled her eyes at this. "Always the excuses with you, huh?" She mumbled. Trick actually twisted her boob this time, earning a shriek and a shove off the couch they were lazing on while Jo smoked a blunt she probably stole off some bum.
"Anyways, moving too fast how?" Wasn't that the ever-changing question?
Trick played with their fingers, feeling dumb. "Um, the Vampire thing. Yeah, that." Jo raises another eyebrow. "I don't believe that. You're being all weird and flakey; this is about Pet, isn't it?" Trick jumps at the mention of the bassist's name, and Jo clicks her fingers. "Hah! I knew it; you're clear as ever, our beloved frontman."
"Fine." The Enby sighed dramatically, with the flair only the most theatre of theatre kids could pull off. "Soo- IMayOrMayNotBeMadlyInLoveWithPetWentzFromTheNewlySlightlyMaybeKindaFamousFallOutGirl." They mumbled it all in one breath. Jo looked like she had hit a jackpot with her stupid grin. Trick kinda hated her for it, stupid Nirvana tee and all. They tugged at their binder uncomfortably.
"Okay, first of all, maybe you need this blunt- because Christ Lunchbox, take a breath." She took a long hit, long enough for Trick to have several polite, sweet fantasies of drowning Jo in the harshest Midwest snowstorm while an audience watched. "Secondly, I don't see the issue. Just tell her."
Trick rolled their eyes hard at this. "See, if it was that easy, then I wouldn't be here, would I? I know I love her; it's just—" Trick started squeezing their legs, suddenly overwhelmed by the situation. "I don't know."
But Jo wasn't listening; she was making a face of- horror?
Trick realized she was looking beyond them and- oh fuck. Pets right behind them, isn't she?
They slowly turn, and sure enough, she's right there, pink highlights and all. She's dressed in a hoodie and simple grey slacks, with her hair up. The mix of pink dye and black hair cascades down her shoulders, and she doesn't bother hiding her fangs when she's on the bus. Trick's had some nasty fantasies about those fangs. And that hoodie. And those slacks.
"Hi, Lunchbox." She says softly. What's with everyone calling them Lunchbox today? They cleared their throat. "Hi, Pet." They mumbled, looking at the floor with shame.
It seems Jo had escaped off somewhere to enjoy her blunt in peace, abandoning Trick to face their demons alone.
"What were you and Jo up to?" Pet's voice seems more vulnerable than Tricks has ever heard it, and it makes them ache a little with guilt. "Talking, yknow—" Trick stutters apologetically. "AboutMyMassiveCrushOnYouAndHowIWantYouToBeMyGirlfriendAndHowYou'llNeverThinkOfM—" Tricks is cut off by soft hands cupping their face and pulling close to Pet, who kisses them with fervor.
"You're a dork," she mumbles, through kisses, which Trick Very Happily pushes needily back into. "A cute dork, though?" they ask hesitantly, tugging on her black Bartskull hoodie.
"Yeah." She smirks a little when she says it, giggling at them peppering kisses along her face before hiding against her neck.
"I've wanted that for so long, Tricky. I was literally mouthing you on stage. What else was there to get?"
"Mouthing isn't exactly talking about your feelings- you can't just come in here and kiss the shit out of me- pretty fangs or not," they mumbled, but she just laughed and pulled them closer.
"I'm Pet Wentz; I do what I want." She grinned, and they rolled their eyes.
"Does that mean tonight it'll be me?" They smirked as her face lit up and turned red. "If you'll do me the honor." She muttered back, earning a kiss on the forehead.