Work Text:
Patrick’s head is spinning. He just agreed to be the singer in a band fronted by Pete Wentz. He’s pretty sure this is one of those out-of-body experiences, like he’s watching himself from above as he leads Joe and Pete out of his basement.
He stops at the bottom of the stairs and lets the other two go up while he flips off the light. His head is so scrambled he nearly bumps into Joe, who’s stopped on the top step.
“What?” Patrick questions, pushing past them and into the kitchen.
Pete and Joe turn towards Patrick, then back to the red-head eating cereal at the table.
“Oh. Guys, this is Dylan.” Patrick says, motioning towards his brother.
“You have a twin.” Joe states unnecessarily.
Dylan roll his eyes and laughs through a mouthful of food, "No shit.”
Patrick grimaces, "Don't be a dick."
Dylan sighs, “Fine,” He grabs Patrick’s hat and puts it on his own head and spins it backwards. Halfway into the other room he yells, “Mom says to do the dishes before she gets home.”
Patrick runs a hand over his hair and smiles, "That was Dylan, my brother. Obviously.”
Pete grins.
--
The next weekend, Patrick goes to Pete’s house to look at some lyrics he’d been working on. Pete’s parents are out of town and his sister is staying the night at a friends house, so it’s just them and Pete’s brothers.
When they pass through the living room, Patrick can see the back of two dark haired boys on the couch.
After two hours spent bent over notebooks filled with words, they go downstairs to get snacks and drinks. Pete stops to use the bathroom and Patrick goes on to the kitchen.
Patrick passes by a small room, probably a den or an office, with the door open just a pinch. He isn’t trying to eavesdrop, but it's Pete's voice, maybe a little quieter, less raw. Patrick shakes his head, not sure how Pete got downstairs without passing him.
--
The night of Patrick and Dylan's 17th birthday, they play at some kids house party. It's the kind of ridiculous, girls crying in the bathroom, high school drama-fest Pete loves.
He's looking for Patrick, to tell him about the guy he just saw projectile vomit outside, when he hears a high-pitched nasally voice say, "So are you guys, like, identical?"
"Not identical," Dylan purrs, and Pete rounds the corner in time to see the look that passes between the brothers.
"Mirror images." Patrick finishes, his smile tense.
The girl on Patrick’s right, Nikki, is supposed to be his date, a cousin of the girl Dylan brought. She’s standing closer to Patrick, but her body is angled towards Dylan.
Dylan’s date, Beth, lifts her head from his shoulder, “What does that even mean?”
Dylan points to his face, “See this freckle under my right eye?”
The girls nod.
Dylan reaches over and pushes Patrick’s hat up, points to his left eye.
“That doesn’t prove anything.” Nikki says skeptically, sliding closer to Dylan.
Patrick pulls his hat back down and shifts his weight against the wall. “I’m right handed, he’s left. I have a birth mark on my left shoulder, his is on the right. Our hair parts on opposite sides, He‘s good at math and science, I like english and history.”
Pete steps completely into the room, “Your smiles.”
Patrick glares.
Dylan beams, thinks Pete is playing his game, “What about them?” he asks coyly.
Pete grins, “Stand next to each other and smile.”
Nikki moves to the other side of Patrick and Dylan grabs Patrick in a sideways hug, pressing their heads together. Dylan’s smile is full of teeth, Patrick’s lips are tight and he looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.
Pete laughs, “No, no! Patrick you have to really smile.”
Pete can almost hear Patrick’s exasperation, but he relaxes his lips and lets a real, if a little forced, smile float across his face.
“See,” Pete questions the girls, “Their smiles are crocked in different directions.”
Patrick stops smiling.
Pete coughs, “Right, Patrick, can I steal you for a minute?”
“Yes.” Patrick responds before Pete’s finished asking and walks past Pete, doesn’t even wait for him before he leaves the room.
--
“Holy shit, you’re kidding me right?” Is the first thing that comes out of Patrick’s mouth. The second is a series of laughter that's kind of embarrassing.
The boy standing in the doorway is not laughing, however, so it sobers Patrick just a little.
“Why are you wearing a tie, and are those actual loafers, dude? I think my dad has a pair of those, maybe.”
The brunette rolls his eyes and sighs dramatically. “This is what most people call work clothes. My slacker brother is in his room.”
“Pete don’t fuck with me. This isn’t funny. Go change, we have practice in fifteen minutes.”
“Listen kid, I’m not Pete. I’m Cole, Pete’s twin brother he didn’t tell you about because i'm not cool enough because I have job and a life and I’m not some wannabe rockstar. Like I said, Pete is in his room."
Patrick gapes at Cole's retreating back.