We Put The 'F U' Back In Fun

[William Beckett]

William sat in Starbucks, totally bored. He had arrived maybe ten minutes earlier to get coffee, but the line was too lengthy for his liking so he had taken a seat in a booth, feet propped up on a chair that was on the other side of the small table. He was texting an old friend who was back in Chicago, and occasionally he would burst out laughing, because the dude was so damn funny, basically. It cost him a few stares from people who were either sitting down or waiting in line, but all he did was smile and shrug at them, going back to his little texting world. "OH MY GOSHHHHHH!" William winced, the shout dangerously close to his ear. "You're William Beckett!" a shrill female voice called out. "I didn't know that, thanks for telling me," he joked. The girl giggled. "May I have an autograph?" she asked, her voice still slightly shrill, but William didn't really mind. "Sure, what's your name?" William asked, giving her a smile. She smiled wider (a feat he thought impossible at the time) and quickly said, "Rebecca." He took a napkin and the Sharpie she held out and scrawled 'To Rebecca, love Becks'. He handed it to her and gave her another smile, and she ran off to a pack of friends, though William kind of hoped they wouldn't come over. He really wanted some time to himself, though if they did he wouldn't be a jerk to them. He looked at the Sidekick again and began a new text message. Yo, Pete, get that fit ass of your's down here at Starbucks. William smirked, finding Pete's name in his contact list and sending it to him, knowing fully well Pete wouldn't think that William thought he was hot or something... though if he did William wouldn't be too bothered (I kid.)

[Pete Wentz]

[/i] Pete replied. He wasn't even entirely sure what Starbucks William was going on about, but he presumed it was the one nearest the festival, which wasn't far from Barneys. Walking distance at least, it would take him about five minutes if he didn't get lost. Pete was enjoying the anonymity of being able to walk around Barneys and not get recognized. It was, in short, fucking amazing, what with all the festival goers wandering around. Pete didn't particularly enjoy being tailgated by girls, but he put up with because they all meant well. He still couldn't really understand what was so great about someone's signature, but admittedly some did try to make a conversation.
Pushing the door of Starbucks open Pete spotted William almost instantly, looking quite at home in the coffee shop. Pete held the door open for a woman leaving and he gave William a look as he came over.
"Get your feet down," Pete instructed the younger Chicagoan, and before William could say anything he'd pulled the chair back so that William's feet fell off of it and he sat down. "You disgust me," Pete joked, smiling at William. "Why, pray tell, has the great Sir William Beckett summoned me from my retail therapy?" Pete asked, sniffing and looked around, and it finally clicked where they were. Starbucks... Coffee... Caffeine... Pete grinned and looked back at William. "You pick the most unique hang outs."[/color][/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[William Beckett]

William sunk down in the booth a little farther, making it so he was a bit more comfortable. He yawned, desperately wanting a coffee but too lazy to actually go through the manual labor to get it. He stretched some and heard the little sound his Sidekick made when he got a text. He read the text and smirked, knowing instantly this dull morning would probably get a lot better when Pete showed up. (And no, they're not making a seckz tape. Sorry kiddos.) He leaned his head back on the sill and closed his eyes, completely making himself at home in the tiny shop. It was nice being away from the festival, though Starbucks was hardly any quieter, but it wasn't the screaming 'oh my god look who it is' type of noise. It was just the noise of other people who didn't give a fuck who William Beckett was. Which contented him, really. He had nothing wrong with fans, but he liked his alone time too.

A few moments later William felt the chair at the end of the table be yanked away, his feet falling to the floor. He sat up quickly, blinking and staring at Pete. "But I was comfortable," William objected. He sat up a little straighter and yawned again. Yeah, he needed a nap, though it was hardly noon. "Retail therapy? I thought caffeine therapy was better," William joked. He drummed the tips of his fingers against the cool table top, slipping the Sidekick into his pocket, feeling no real need to text Pete since he was sitting right across from him. "I pick the most unique hangouts? Well, if only Travis felt that way about the other uses I put these hangouts towards," he joked.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete asked. "Don't taint my vision of him, it'll destroy his cool exterior," Pete joked. He looked around at the queue and stood up, looking back at William, noting that he didn't have a coffee and knowing that because he had been 'summoned' and was now in the queue that he was designated buyer this time. As Pete reached the front he ordered two lattes and looked around at William, playfully glaring at him. It was weird, how people could change depending on the people they were around. William made Pete feel... a bit more open, because that was what William was like. Pete always reflected the personality of the person he was with, within reason. If someone was being an asshole to him then Pete had the right to be an asshole, and if, like William, they were being jokey and playful then so would Pete.
Pete thanked the woman serving, handing the money over and taking the lattes, telling her to keep the change. Pete walked back to William and set the lattes down infront of them and smiled.
"If your fans knew about what you were saying, Becks, they just might stop writing slash. It'd take the thrill of writing about their fantasy when they know it's reality," Pete said, placing William's latte down infront of him. "How's it all working out with the new guitarist, then? Butch Walker's old guitarist good enough for you?" Pete asked, referring to Michael Guy Chislett. He pulled the lid of his latte off and looked down at it, deciding it was too hot right now and put some sugar into it. "But, then again, what is up to Sir Beckett's standards these days?" Pete asked, smirking as he looked at the lid of the latte and licked the layer that was on it off.[/size][/color][/blockquote][/ul]

[William Beckett]

"Well he hates talking about it, what's a guy to do?" William asked, putting up a pitiful facade, which quickly dispersed when he smirked. "Cool exterior? Uh, no comment," he joked. When Pete stood up he stuck his feet in the chair again, smiling a little to himself. Part of the reason he wanted Pete around so he'd buy lazy Beckett a coffee. Plus, William wanted some company. Plus, Pete was pretty damn cool when he wasn't being all 'OH WOE IS ME' and shit. William knew Pete was depressed and stuff, and he never brought it up around him, instead focusing on making Pete as happy as he could. William had never suffered from depression himself, but he could sort of imagine what Pete went through sometimes, only probably on a smaller scale.

William dropped his feat from the chair when he saw Pete approaching and wrapped his hands around the cup of the latte, knowing very well it was warm but his hands were cold, a feeling he really didn't like. "Well, you have a point about that. I'll keep our relationship shushed, just for the sake of fan fiction," he smirked. He stared at the latte, taking off the cap and deciding it'd cool down faster that way. He blinked a few times, Pete's question not registering at first. That was William for you, horribly inattentive. He furrowed his brow, straining to pay attention, when he heard the last bit of Pete's statement. Butch Walker's old guitarist... oh, right. "Going really well, actually. He's fitting in quite nicely," William answered, blinking a new times more and focused back on the conversation. See how easy William's mind wanders? "So, what are the wife and kids up to?" William joked, referring to Patrick, Andy, and Joe. "I'm glad I don't have to share a tourbus with you, Pete, I bet you're as horny as fuck," he joked.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said. "You're not a twat pretending to be a bastard, you're a real bastard... That's half a compliment, half an insult, if you're trying to work that out," Pete said with a smile. "The wife's fine, busy as per usual, can't get him out of the tour bus sometimes, he only seems to venture out to play or shop for equipment. I don't like being married to a hermit, I might have to take him out for dinner," Pete joked playing along with Beckett. "The kids are fine, Andy wants a new tattoo but it's really hard to find decent places around here, haven't seen a lot of Joe to be honest," Pete said, sipping the latte but finding it was quite hot still. He put it down again and looked over at Beckett.
"Your kids were in my tourbus the other day, eating our food and playing Guitar Hero - it's a fucking disease, I swear. First Panic! get entirely consumed by the awful thng and now you're losing your band too," Pete said, shaking his head. "I can see it now - 'Guitar Hero destroyed our lives'. VH1 Behind The Music shit. How Guitar Hero drove my label into the fucking ground," Pete joked, adding yet more sugar to the latte just because he wanted something to do as he waited for it to cool down. "How's Christine?" Pete asked, knowing they'd recently celebrated their third anniversary of being together. "Does she know about your missus? Travis?" Pete asked, with a smirk. "Does that mean Gym Class are your step-kids 'cause Disashi the shit, man," Pete smirked.[/color][/size][/blockquote][/ul]

[William Beckett]

"Well, Pete, then I've accomplished what I've been trying to do," William joked. William, in fact, was getting colder the more time he spent in Starbucks, which made no sense whatsoever because he was 1) wearing a jacket and 2) it wasn't cold outside or inside. He shook his discomforts aside, however, knowing he'd feel better once he had some of the latte (that is if the damn stuff ever cooled off). "Hmm, maybe we can think of something," William mused. "We could like... oh shit, I'm out of ideas. He's your wife, your problem," he joked. He absent-mindedly picked up a sugar packet and tore it open, sprinkling the contents into his latte, watching as the sugar dispersed in the liquid. "Andy and his obsessive tattoo-ing. Soon enough the only thing that isn't tattooed on that boy will be his ass and penis, though I'm sure those are his next intended targets," William smirked.

"Oh really? Well, next time they do that shit I'll give them a big clap on the back for torturing Uncle Pete," William joked, smiling at Pete. "We should pull a Brent Wilson and like, sue the company that invented it. If we win, we'll be fucking rich. If we lose, then we're all going to be bumming off street corners in Chicago. Though, with DecayDance, half of the former musicians will be mistaken as hookers," William joked, watching as one man turned around and glared at him, obviously overhearing the conversation, which just caused him to laugh a bit more. The man held the glare for a few more moments before shaking his head and turning back around. William looked back at Pete. "Christine's great. She's not really around much because she has some stuff to do, but she said she'll be around Tombstone a little later. She left a bit ago, after we celebrated," William said, picking the drink up and sipping a bit of it, but regretted it because it was still too hot. Did Starbucks store their lattes and stuff in volcanoes or some shit? "It was one celebration I managed to stay sober during," William joked. "And no, she doesn't know about Travis. Travis knows to pretty much keep away when she's around," he smirked.

[Pete Wentz]

[/b] Pete said. "Please, for everyone's sake, don't talk about my bandmate's... Christ," Pete smirked. "They may have seen mine but I don't think they're all queueing up to return the favor, Beckett," Pete smirked. "Your kids are annoying, they should be put down," Pete joked. "Scared the life out of even Hemingway," Pete said, sipping the latte again, finding that this time it was actually quite ready to drink. Sipping it he looked across at Wiliam and almost choked on the coffee when he mentioned Brent Wilson and he put the coffee down, grabbing a napkin to clean up what he could of the mess. None the less, he still had quite a lot of coffee on his hoodie now.
"You do like to get a rise out of people by speaking about taboo subjects, don't you?" Pete asked, shaking his head. "You're all my whores... my music whores... and I am your pimp," Pete said, smirking as he picked up his Dior sunglasses and put them on. "Total hardcore pimpage," Pete said. He looked around Beckett to look at the man who had turned around, and he smiled at him and then looked back at Beckett.
"Please these days, nothing better to do than get off on other people's conversations," Pete said, drinking the coffee again and nodding. "Ah, yeah, Travis is pretty slick like that," Pete said. "It's a shame though, I would like to see Travis battle it out with a woman, it'd be some sight to see. If it ever happens I want your solemn promise that you record it on your phone and send it to me," Pete said.[/color][/size][/blockquote][/ul]