the start of Joe's fourth month of pregnancy is strange. not so weird as in like evil pregnancy stuff (a la rosemary's baby), but more so transitionally weird as the band is starting up touring again, or at least making a few dates in August and September. being so, Joe has to get used to being on a tour bus and constantly nauseous almost as quickly as he had to get used to his bump being big enough for people to notice. at the end of his third month everytime he went outside people would literally stare at him, and then at his stomach, which felt gross enough without him feeling like they were suddenly going to sprout lazers and rip him and his baby apart.
this did mean that he stopped wanting to go out after, but alas, the tour was fast approaching and Patrick was driving them both mad. joe watches him pack, unpack, and then repack stuff around the house, it's cute, but not cute enough to not annoy Joe. after the third go round of packing clothes (which, at this point, were too small for Joe to even consider wearing on tour) Joe snaps.
"Patrick." Joe's voice carries from where he's laying on the bed into the closet, sharp enough that Patrick almost hits his head on the closet door with how fast he turns. "put the shirts back unless they're an extra-large or bigger. no," he puts his hand up and makes quotation mark gestures, "maternity clothes either. It's only a couple of tour-dates until the end of August." Patrick groans and starts unpacking, as if Joe hadn't been telling him how much he needed to calm the hell down since Pete called and told them they were going to play some shows.
of course, Joe was worried as well, but patrick's style of worrying irritated him to no ends. it felt like Joe was getting all the negative sides of pregnancy, and none of the fun stuff. sure, he was no longer throwing up and could eat more of the stuff he wanted. but for some reason his gums had started to bleed in the morning and stupid fucking Patrick was making him these gross smoothies in the morning that were supposed to help with his calcium and cover even more of the vitamins that he needed extra of, but Joe would rather take pills on top of the prenatals he was already taking.
on that note, he slid off the bed, making his way to the suitcase that Patrick had left lying open as he went back into the closet to search for more items that Joe would be willing to wear. Joe knelt next to it, rocking on his legs to get more comfortable as he searched... aha! the stupid portable blender Patrick bought and packed for this specific reason sat gleaming in its box. Joe smirked to himself, grabbing it and making moves to toss it out, unfortunately Patrick chose that moment to turn around. his baby blues shoot daggers into joe's own wide eyed ocean blues and he quickly looks away, dropping the blender back down into the suitcase.
"Joe. stop trying to get rid of the blenders, you know you need more health foods to replace the stuff the baby's taking." joe sticks out his tongue at Patrick, it's not like the baby is taking all of his essentials, but Patrick loves to act like its the end of the world. Patrick sighs, drops the clothes in his hands into the suitcase and presses his lips to joe's, clearly opting for a chaste kiss, and yet not caught off guard when Joe presses closer, resting a hand on his hips and letting Joe pull him deeper and deeper into the kiss.
to Joe, it's never close enough and it sure isn't long enough for him to be satisfied, but Patrick begins pulling away after a minute, for some reason longing to go back to packing. Joe lets him leave with a pout, and moves back onto the bed, laying down on his back. the door creaks as it opens and two sets of paws pitter into the room, and Joe grins as penny and Gary stumble into the room.
The puppies jump on the bed, and though patrick usually doesnt like them doing it, joe has no issues as long as he gets kisses from them. And kisses he does indeed get, as gary's snobbery tongue and Penny's tiny one lick all over his face, prompting a short burst of laughter from joe. He was gonna miss these two on tour, they were staying with a friend whilst they were gone.
All good things have to end unfortunately, and Joe's phone is ringing off the hook with calls from Pete. What the hell.
"Duck hunt! Hey, are you guys ready. The tour busses are infront of your apartment and we still have to figure who's sleeping with who?" pete's voice is a wave crashing over Joe, bringing back to the unfortunate reality of touring. fucking tour busses. he doesn't know if he can take being pregnant and gross on a tour where he's sure everyone will find out- including the fans. which brings him back to his anxiety from earlier that he just started getting over- God damn it Pete.
"Wha? Pete, clearly me and Patrick are going to be on the same bus man." Joe's tone is matter-of-fact, and honestly he thinks pete is kind of stupid for assuming that Joe would be rooming with him, especially now he's got an actual reason to stick to patrick. Joe cant take the mess (Patrick likes to joke he's started nesting. joe thinks he should kill patrick) or nowadays the medication that is probably going to be on display. not that he would ever steal from Pete, but even with the detox, he still craves it just the tiniest bit.
pete is silent for all of two minutes, but its long enough for Joe to start shifting uncomfortably. Pete had gotten over the shock of him and Patrick being entangled, and he knows Pete hates change, but it has to happen. finally, Pete speaks, and it's with a light, joking tone. "you're going to deprive me of not only Joe time, but also bonding with my new godbaby time? how could you Joe. shame on you!"
joe rolls his eyes, his heart stops racing though. Pete apparently still controls Joe's entire body with just a word, no matter how old Joe gets. what pete hears, however, is a raspberry blown through the phone, and then joe's voice peaks in again. "wah wah. it'll be okay, Pete, we can even have sleepovers if my mommy says yes." patricks head perks up in the background, and joe's eyes slide over his mock-frown with a giggle.
"Fine," Pete draws out the word, ending it with a giggle that sounds like the teenage girl he always says is his real soul. "you two can have the slightly nicer bus, but I reserve my rights to Joe and Patrick plus baby time." Joe rolls his eyes, as if he could ever stop Pete from hanging with them. honestly it was a miracle that he had never found out, especially with how nosy he was.
this a uniquely evil situation that no one else has ever been in, or at least thats how Joe feels as they start doing shows again. Joe tends to not let himself rest, rushing back to his guitar and attempting to make himself somewhat scarce. Patrick has been pulled back into the Pete vortex, and Joe is trying his best to not to feel some kind of way abuut it. his mouth fills with the taste of blood as he sneaks around stages and people, hoping to not have to interact with fans or his friends when he's in a way too big shirt and sweatpants.
after an hour of scrambling from place to place as the guitar techs work on the guitar settings and the sound techs stare wide eyed at him as he sorta pervs on their conversations, he's actually kind of tired of it already. they haven't even played their first show and Joe already hates the stares he gets. its really unfortunate that the little chestburster inside of him has grown big enough that his stomach swells and is visible, the shirts would've worked if it wasn't like trying to put a curtain over a watermelon. Joe's ears perk as he hears his name continuously echoed in pete's 'answer me or I'll do something terrible to embarrass you so bad you cant show your face in this town ever again' voice. fuck his stupid fucking life. he groans loudly and untangles himself from the mess of wires the techs had so nicely sat him Infront of, as if he was a unruly child who couldn't be trusted to stay still and not break things (his past of breaking guitars and faces non-withstanding).
standing up is another of those things that Joe is finding to be increasingly hard as he gets rounder. but at the very least he does get up, and he's not nearly big enough that he waddles, which is one thing he thanks patrick for. Not giving him a big ass baby was the least he could do really. leaving the area he comes across Pete fairly quickly, Joe thinks, but maybe it was because Pete was still screeching his name when Joe found him.
"what!" joe's eye twitches as he walks up to Pete, a playful-ish frown settling into his face. he thought he wasn't in the mood to play around with Pete, but the sight of him has joe's metaphorical tail wagging, waiting to see what Pete wants.
pete's cropped black hair is a sweet sight after a couple of months of hiding, that Joe was totally not doing. he finds himself being pulled into the tightest hug he's had since Patrick found out about the baby. It soothes a part of himself that craved pressure to feel loved. Joe basically melts into pete's arms, wrapping his own in a loose circle around pete's neck.
"joe!" pete's face presses against his own as he pulls Joe around like he weighs less than a doll, tugging him towards the buses. it sounds like a good idea, and Joe now has an inkling of what Pete wants from him (he guesses he can stand to be touched and poked around on if its pete- honestly he would probably let any member of fall out boy prod both him and his stomach. he loves these guys). "duck hunt, Joe, trohmaniac, I missed you!"
"we've been apart for quite literally maybe 12 hours" Joe deadpans, a small smile working through his squished cheeks. there's something about Pete missing him that makes Joe's chest feel warm, or maybe that's the heartburn all the pregnancy books were talking about.
"I don't give a fuck Joe, come on, I wanna see it." Pete's face is split in two with a grin that shows all his teeth, and for a second Joe imagines his own head between them, and the motions that Pete would go through in chewing and swallowing him in the pieces that Pete has always been able to leave him in.
"it?" Joe raises an eyebrow at the grin on Pete's face, focusing on the spot between his eyebrows so he doesn't have to take a peek at pete's blown out pupils. a dull ache starts to rise in his back, flashing in his eyelids every time he shuts them.
"the," he gestures to Joe's general stomach area, " and I'm starting to miss ash and bronx I think." ah, so Joe was just an emotional placeholder. he thinks Pete can see the semi hurt on his face as he starts to fawn over Joe, pulling him and whispering apologies that start with 'i didn't mean it like that' and never fully say the two words they skirt around. that's just how it is with Pete, its like pulling teeth to get an apology out of him. Joe tries not to let the weird and odd tears building in his eyes fall, he doesn't even feel that horrible, but now it feels like every offhand remark from Pete drops him in a deep hole he'll never crawl out of. its weird.
the bus is quiet, which, he expected seeing as both Patrick and andy are out doing something according to Pete, who watched them leave. and he doesn't feel some kind of way because neither of them invited him, which wouldve stopped him from annoying the techs, no sirree. pete's grip on his shoulder is tight, maybe even bruising, but he cant find it in himself to give a fuck, not when Pete is dragging him towards a bed, which he has been sorely longing for since he left the back room this morning (he and Patrick have officially taken it over, leaving their old bunks for their instruments).
ignoring any sort of boundaries, Pete's shirt is the first item of clothing to go, then he unbuttons his pants and gestures for Joe to get comfortable. which is the code word for 'get naked so I can gawk at the stretch marks already starting to form', Joe thinks about it for a second, and then shrugs, pulling his shirt off. for a wonderful second he forgot that his chest had grown so much it was noticeable, he feels them bounce for a second and Pete's low whistle doesn't make it any better. he shoves the rest of the shirt off, crossing his arms over his chest before making his way to the bed to lay down, stiff as a corpse in a coffin.
"dude, you know its not a big deal right?" Pete flops down next to him, lips pursed in a pouty expression. Joe's chest feels heavy, and his eyes start to water, making him feel a little stupid as he sniffles trying to hold the tears back. It doesnt matter that pete doesnt give a fuck, he does! And it sucks! He didnt want his chest to grow bigger, he doesnt want to feel them swell with breastmilk and all the things women need to feed their babies! Hes not a fucking girl, but it feels like all this pregnancy is doing is making him into a bigger one.
"its like- totally hot joe. im sure patrick goes wild over them!" pete's reassurances do more harm than good, because of course pete cant understand that this is a joe thing, not a 'woe is me patrick must think im so fucking ugly'. well, now that joe thinks on it, its sort of that, just the little tiny part of his brain that relies on other people's affection to get by, attempting to choke up and die because patrick isnt here to reassure him. Sorta pathetic, but joe has never claimed to be otherwise.
pete continues to make stupid little comments, and joe continues to sit there until he just cant take it anymore. sitting up, he glares at pete, his face contorting into a sneer. "Pete. Shut up, man."
"its not- " joe pauses, frowning to himself as he sorts through his thoughts. its easier to have conversations like this when he's too high to remember, but alas, his straight-edge adventures dont end til this baby is years out. "it's not about patrick. my stupid body is changing and i dont want it to." Pete's face is sympathetic, but it's tinged with pity enough that Joe's skin starts to crawl. "And no, i dont care that it's doing so to feed my baby or to help them grow. I want it to go back to normal, but it won't, and it makes me sick to look at myself."
joe's eyes are glued to the blanket he and patrick had been laying under not even ten hours ago, gripping it tight between his bony and thin fingers. atleast that was something that wouldnt change- not the callouses on them, nor the way his middle finger sits weird from being broken at age fifteen in a mosh pit. he can hear pete's soft breaths from next to him, half hoping pete would hug him again and yet the other half hoping pete would ignore everything he said, letting them exist as just peteandjoe for these crucial few minutes. in the end, pete doesnt say anything, because he knows nothing would make joe feel any better about it. instead, Joe feels pete's arms on his as he's forced to lay his head on Pete's bony chest, tucking his head in the crook of pete's neck.
"i'm sorry duck hunt- that fucking sucks." pete's softer tone both makes a pit in joe's stomach and fills a wound in his heart. his stupid mommy issues continue to affect every part of joe, and it helps that his bandmates dont know about it. How joe tends to catergorize every crumb of their affection as either motherlike, something that makes his nerves sing for more and yet knowing its perverted to see them like that. pete doesnt attempt to soothe any further with his words, choosing instead to tug the blanket over them until everything but their heads are covered, and pulls him into another tight hug. the difference is that this one doesnt end, and it only gets warmer until joe is fast asleep.
hazily, he hears through the fog of sleep a chuckle, and feels the weight of his soon to be husband dip the bed. it feels good to be surrounded like this, and he sort of wishes it would last forever.
The next time Joe wakes fucking sucks, the warm bodies next to him are gone and he's left feeling disjointed, like a couple of pieces of his brain have been turned to mush. the bed is cold, and as he slips off the bed and through the doorway, Joe feels a shiver run down his back as he hears Patrick's whispering voice travel through the air like mist. Patrick only speaks in the tone when he's on a phone call or having a conversation that he doesn't want anyone (not even Joe) to hear.
patrick sits on the couch, the back of the couch facing away from where Joe stands. joe shuffles forward, feeling a little insane as he quietly moves. patricks voice doesnt change, signifiying he doesnt notice as he talks. "yeah- mom, i know i know, we forgot. it's not like you were deliberatly kept out of the loop- joe's parents dont know either." it feels like a bucket of water has been dumped over joe's head. in the process of drowning in his own feelings, both of them totally forgot to tell their parents. it wasnt deliberate on joe's part, he was sure his parents (or, maybe just his dad) wouldve loved to know as soon as he did, but he hadnt talked to his dad in 3 months at that point, and point blank refused to talk to his mom. not if she was just going to put him down over it, like she did everything. sometimes he wonders why she even had him if she disliked him so much.
Subconsciously he wraps his arms around his torso, around the 4 month baby bump that kept him grounded this entire time. Patrick continues talking to his mom, and Joe begins to feel more and more like a creep. he almost backs away, half wanting to leave Patrick to his conversation and yet wanting to hear if Patrick says anything about him. Patrick's opinion of him is the only one that really matters right now, with the shocking (to some) desire to live basically in his skin. he perks up as he hears his name, squinting a little.
"I mean, momma, I don't know if Joe really wants a baby shower." Patrick winces as he holds the phone slightly away from his face. "maybe, but not right now, he's a little fragile."
joe bristles, fragile isn't a word he would use for himself, and the fact that Patrick thought of him like that kinda pisses him off. he's not fragile, and if Patrick just talked to him, he would know that yeah, he was right, Joe doesn't want a baby shower, but that wasn't because he was fragile. the only reason Joe didn't really want a baby shower was that he hated the idea of the spotlight focusing on his baby, people constantly touchingtouchingtouching him, and unwanted comments floating around in the air. it was the same reason he hated going outside at home, and he refused to let it taint the tour as well.
He avoids patrick the rest of the day, except when theyre on stage- much to patrick’s obvious anger. Joe couldn't really care less, too deep into stewing in his own anger and pissed off attitude to really give much of a fuck about how his fiance feels about it all. If patrick didnt want the cold shoulder, he should've asked Joe and not made stupid assumptions.
when Patrick crawls into bed with him that night, Joe gets up, taking the blanket with him into the bunk space. he can hear Patrick's protests as he leaves, but Joe cant bring himself to care.
the bunk is harder than the bed they share, but Joe would willingly sleep on rocks if it meant Patrick would get the fucking message.
the next day Patrick is out of the bus before Joe even wakes up, and he's grateful for it. Joe wiggles out of the bunk, his bump making it hard to slide out of them like he used to. he feels gross, disgusting in a way that he could never wash off, not even with a million showers. he loves his baby, but he also will never be doing this again.
the bus's shower doesn't work, they never do, so Joe improvises, wetting the washcloth and hitting his pits and under his stupid chest. he feels himself start the tear up, and it kills him that maybe Patrick is right- if just touching his body right now makes him cry he is definitely not ready for the celebration of it. staring at himself at the stupidly small mirror they have makes him feel stupid. his eyes are red from the tear he cried yesterday in that stupid bunk, his beard is scraggly , and his hair is a mess. usually, Patrick would help him brush his hair and they would squeeze in together and do their morning routines together- it feels empty doing it by himself.
it wont stop him from going on stage in a over-sized shirt and doing what feels like hiding. He plays not to Patrick like he usually does, but instead turning to face Andy for the entire thing. he doesn't feel like playing to the crowd and for once it doesn't bother him that people don't notice him and don't really post pictures of him. for once, the anonymity feels good.
the bad part is that Patrick tries to engage him and there's only so much ignoring a guitarist can do before there are 'breaking up the band' rumors. he's sure his face shows how much he doesn't want to talk, but Patrick keeps getting closer, keeps touching and nuzzling and smiling at him. Joe wants to touch, wants to smile, but then he remembers how fragile Patrick thinks he is and he runs away.
andy is safe and usually doesn't ask questions. so when Joe peels off stage and sticks to his ass like glue, he takes it with just a raise of his eyebrow. Joe thinks he hears Patrick make a small noise, but when he turns around Patrick is being harrassed by Pete, and he doesn't feel any sort of way about it. because this is what Joe wanted- so why would he cry about it. ignoring the sinking feeling in his stomach he rubs at his bump and let's Andy take him away.
andy takes him not to the busses, but walks him to a little 24h diner with his arm stretched over Joe's shoulder. andy's already put on the spare shirt they kept in the back, a light blue t-shirt that says "troh-bro" in green letters on the front. it got made only because Andy made the other shirts, and Joe helped minimally. Andy has one too, but its been stuffed in the bottom of joe's drawers at home since the beginning.
The diner isn't full of anyone, not yet, so it's easy to get a corner booth and get as close as he can to Andy. he doesn't know if he's hungry, but Andy takes it up on himself to order him a full spread of breakfast, and its more than he's eaten since he started ignoring Patrick. Joe wants to find it in himself to be angry that Andy thinks he can just order for him, but it takes a lot to be angry, and he's not even sure that's how he feels right now.
Joe also admittedly doesn't want to be angry at Andy. It's hard enough being pissed at Patrick for reasons that he hasn't shared and to be angry at Andy would be like being angry at his dad, despite him only being 4 years older than Joe. Andy looks at him and Joe looks back, frowning until it wobbled and fell and he just felt like crying. he presses his face into Andy's arm and thanks God its late enough and apparently niche enough that none of their fans are here.
"Joe." Andy sounds enough like a disappointed dad that Joe shivers and buries his head deeper into Andy's bicep. "Joe.... whats going on with you and 'trick?"
joe stiffens, and then sighs, "he called me fragile. and then I got upset."
Andy's face scrunches, looking like he was really trying to parse how that could've set everything off. "Joe. dude, how is being called fragile what you got upset about
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