Possibly, I'm Insane

For anonymous

“Do you know what would be nice?” Harrison announces. “Having a house someday.”

Drew says, “A house where? We can’t afford any houses.”

“I don’t mean now. I mean someday.”

“I’m impressed you think we’ll ever be able to afford a house in a society where housing scarcity has driven up prices beyond the capability of ordinary—” Drew cuts himself off, registering Harrison’s crestfallen. Ah, he thinks. This is that sort of conversation. “But we can fantasize about having a house someday. I would like a gambrel roof, personally.”

Harrison immediately brightens, so Drew knows he got it right.

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Matt is amazed by how many Christmas decorations Patrick has.

“What do you even do with this?” he asks, holding up a penguin wearing a Santa hat. Not made by any of the kids. Bought. Patrick paid for this.

“Aww, Penny Penguin!” Hailey exclaims, and walks away with it.

“Where are your Christmas decorations?” Patrick asks, deep in a box of fake candles. “We’ll find a way to integrate them.”

Matt considers the answer to that question.

Patrick looks at him. “Do you not have any Christmas decorations?”

Matt looks at the boxes scattered around them. “Well, I do now.”

For anonymous.

“It’s the latest thing, Arthur,” Eames says. “It’s all anybody wants this year for Christmas.”

Of course Eames would know all about the hot gift, thrusting it into Arthur’s lap.

He studies it in confusion. “It’s…a weird monster stuffed animal holding…makeup?”

“Collectibles with skincare, darling.”

“You know I don’t approve of makeup yet,” Arthur grumbles, constantly resisting this aging shit.

“Not makeup, skincare.”

Arthur gives Eames a look.

“Anyway, she’ll be the most popular girl at school with one of these. Can’t find them anywhere.”

Well. That’s a telling sentence. “Where did you get this?” Arthur asks suspiciously.

Eames grins.

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“You know a thing we’ve never done and I can’t believe we’ve never done it?” says Pete.

“Oh, God,” says Patrick. Usually when Pete says something like that, it’s about something absurd like getting shot out of cannons or floating in the air with balloons. “What?” he asks warily.

“We have never gone around at Christmas singing carols.”

Patrick considers. “Do people even do that anymore?”

“Most people don’t, but most people don’t have Patrick Stump.”

“So, when you say we should go around singing carols…”

“Oh, I mean you. Of course. Tricky, you would sing the most beautiful carols!”

Merry Christmas, everyone! Thank you for all the prompts and for coming along on the ride with me! If you're celebrating, I hope you have a perfect day. If you're not celebrating, I also hope you have a perfect day.

For anonymous.

Pete says they should take a vacation.

“We should just lay on a beach somewhere and…do nothing.” He sighs wistfully.

Patrick says, “I will burn to a crisp.”

“What about the ‘do nothing’ part, hmm? Does that appeal to you?”

“Maybe.” He does feel like their lives have been nonstop since the album dropped.

“I can also do things during the ‘do nothing’ part. Like, we could define some things that might be acceptable during the ‘do nothing’ part.”

“Is this you being seductive?”

“I’m like the Sexiest Man Alive, you know.”

“Uh-huh. That went straight to your head, too.”

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“We should create a winter wonderland,” Eames announces.

Arthur isn’t even surprised. This seems very Eamesian.

“In the indoor forest,” Eames continues.

That does make sense, Arthur thinks.  

“We can invite the local schools to come on field trips! The kids will love it!”

“Kids?” Arthur echoes. “If you’re inviting kids, you need to—”

“Have reindeer!” Eames exclaims. “And you can play Santa Claus.”

“No reindeer,” Arthur is saying, before he catches up to that. “And I’m not playing Santa Claus! You should play Santa Claus!”

“How can I play Santa Claus when you’re the jolly one?” Eames counters.

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3am is, in their tour-addled state, basically the middle of the afternoon. It’s when Pete is playing videogames or watching movies and Patrick is working, because he’s the responsible one.

Pete loves this, loves the middle of the night not being a fraught opportunity for insomnia, loves the wakeful company as the bus drives onward.

But this means his insomnia shifts to 8am, watching the clock tick, thinking of the show looming that night and how he should really sleep.

And then, Patrick is as comforting as if 8am were 3am, singing in his ear until they both fall asleep.

For anonymous.

The idea is, of course, all Pete’s. It would never occur to Patrick to pay someone to rub salt crystals all over his body and then wrap him up in seaweed.

“It’s supposed to unlock your skin’s fountain of youth,” Pete tells him.

“I didn’t know my skin was old,” Patrick replies. “First When We Were Young, now this.”

“Look at my crow’s-feet!” Pete gestures.

 

Patrick smiles. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever get to see your face with wrinkles. I love them.”

 

Pete hesitates, then says, “I still think we should do the seaweed thing, though. It will be relaxing.”

 

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“It’s like riding a bike,” is what Patrick tells Pete when he’s trying to convince him.

“Really? Have you tried riding a bike lately? It’s not all that easy. It’s a terrible saying.”

“It’s a figure of speech. Maybe you should try writing some of your own figures of speech that you like better. Hint, hint.”

Pete takes a deep breath, hesitating.

“Look, the reunion sex was amazing last time, you said so yourself.”

Pete laughs. “I did, didn’t I? You see, it’s not like remembering how to ride a bike so much as remembering how to ride other things.”  

“It’s like riding a bike,” is what Patrick tells Pete when he’s trying to convince him.

“Really? Have you tried riding a bike lately? It’s not all that easy. It’s a terrible saying.”

“It’s a figure of speech. Maybe you should try writing some of your own figures of speech that you like better. Hint, hint.”

Pete takes a deep breath, hesitating.

“Look, the reunion sex was amazing last time, you said so yourself.”

Pete laughs. “I did, didn’t I? You see, it’s not like remembering how to ride a bike so much as remembering how to ride other things.”  

For anonymous

Patrick’s not sure any of them actually like coffee, given how much sugar is in the drinks that get handed out daily by whoever is the first of them to be up.

This is never Patrick, he’s never the first one awake.

Patrick remarks, “Pouring sugar packets directly into our mouth would be quicker and cheaper.”  

“It’s not about the sugar,” Pete tells him, “it’s the caffeine.”

Patrick watches him slurp up whipped cream enthusiastically. “Is it?”

Pete laughs. “Do you know how to make us fancy coffee drinks? That would be useful.”

“Should have been a barista,” Patrick muses.