hurricane heat in my head.

“okay, but you inspired me, you gave me the thoughts. You gave me words and you didn’t even know it, but I digress… Let’s see…” Patrick mused, biting his lip as he looked up in thought. He ran a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh. So many lines from songs rushed through his brain. He tried to process them all, considering the lyrics (when he understood and connected to the song, the lyrics were forever etched into his brain) and the overall feeling of the song, the colors associated with feelings from his synaesthesia played a part as well.

“bishops knife trick…” He finally answered after careful consideration. “Let me tell you why… It feels like coming home. For us both. You and me, Chicago. Each other. It feels like early 2000s summer nights on 88 with the windows down, getting stranded on the side of the road or you know, sliding into a tree on an icy road,” he chuckled fondly at the memory, though it had been pretty scary at the time.

“it’s a promise, but it’s also a recognition of everything we’ve been through and how we’re gonna get through it together. It’s special and you know if we would’ve ended on that note, if that had been the last song on the last record we ever put out, I would’ve been happy with that. But it never actually felt like a final ending to me… It felt like the end of an era, of a time, of who we used to be, but it also holds the promise of who we were gonna become. I still don’t know if I wanna play it live, it’s like fucking vivisection for me… That’s always been your thing… I’m too scared to expose myself like that. Guts carved out and thrown on the floor for everyone to look at and I’m not sure I wanna share something this special between us with the rest of the world…” Patrick stopped himself when he realized he had been rambling, his pale cheeks flushing a bright red. He waved his hand dismissively with a nervous chuckle. “So you know… Yeah…” He said with a sheepish look on his face as he met Pete’s gaze again, cheeks still warm.

That was the song he’d been thinking of, the lovely very underrated, Bishop’s Knife Trick.  Usually his lyrics weren’t particularly specific, but some were directly pointed.  There were lines in many songs that were reflections of them, but Patrick had What a Catch, Donnie, The Kids Aren’t Alright, and Bishop’s.  Of course, Disloyal Order, and GINASFS were in there too.  It was a lot to unpack when Pete was unloading a million thoughts at once with a pen.  Bishop’s was special, and if it had been on the last studio album, he would have thought it a deserving ending.  It wasn’t the end, which was kind of why they never played it live.  

He only smiled, shaking his head. She’s said a lot of things regarding Pete over the years, but more recently she was sure, just as Patrick was, that this was finally the right choice at the right time kind of thing.

He started to think when Pete dropped a complement that made his cheeks flush red with warmth. He nervously laughed a little and looked at Pete with a small, sheepish smile as the older man messed with his hair.

“Saturday… It was the first thing that was ours… You gave me the confidence to write, to sing, to stand up for myself… Sometimes anyway,” he chuckled. “You helped me become who I am today… All because of Saturday…” Patrick smiled.

“Saturday is from you to me though.  Me and Pete.”  He laughed a little, “I think you would have found it without me, but I wouldn’t have made this without you.  Can you imagine it?  You’d be doing all your soundtrack work and I’d be…”  He was going to say in production, but then he knew better.  Fall Out Boy had saved him from himself.  He always came back home to this, and still came dangerously close to the edge a few times.  They had built this, and all the history behind it.  

"bishops knife trick..." He finally answered after careful consideration. "Let me tell you why... It feels like coming home. For us both. You and me, Chicago. Each other. It feels like early 2000s summer nights on 88 with the windows down, getting stranded on the side of the road or you know, sliding into a tree on an icy road," he chuckled fondly at the memory, though it had been pretty scary at the time.

patrick chuckled, nodding. “yeah… she does,” he sniffles a little, trying to quickly wipe the tears from his eyes. thankfully, still happy ones. “me and you,” patrick repeated, eyes closing at the feel of pete’s warm words against his ear. “if i woke up next to you,” he whispered, biting at his bottom lip, the words as they used to fall from his lips–a wish, a dream he never thought would come true. it made him smile to think that wishing on those glass moons with words of stone had actually worked out. he’d been waking up next to pete for how long now?

“maybe…” he mused, considering, but his attention refocusing when pete asked another question. his lips tug upwards before anything else and he nods. “i love them… do you like the songs i gave you?” he asked, reaching to push a piece of hair that had escaped his ponytail back behind pete’s ear. 

Pete chuckled lightly, “Did she ever ask if you were very sure of that choice?” he teased, knowing that the question wouldn’t have mattered in the slightest.  Patrick’s heart was as true as they come, and he knew that.  He’d heard those kinds of words from others, but only believed them from the one next to him now.  That made all the difference.  It was what he always wanted.  

He started to think when Pete dropped a complement that made his cheeks flush red with warmth. He nervously laughed a little and looked at Pete with a small, sheepish smile as the older man messed with his hair.