Green With Envy
Title: Green With Envy
Author:
lucentvictrola
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Patrick/Pete
POV: Third
Summary: Really, it's not like Patrick never wears green.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, don't own, don't whine, don't sue.
Author's Notes: My Valentine's Day one-shot. Because it was just screaming to be written.
Really, it's not like Patrick never wears green. It's just that everyone else in the tour, the country, the world is wearing some shade of pink today, and there sulks Patrick in the darkest green shirt he could find. And today (today, Patrick thinks with comtempt, and if one could sneer in his mind, Patrick would be), it's not because Pete always says it brings out his eyes.
No, no, today is Valentine's Day, the day Patrick loathes with every fiber of his being (except the few where he would be all sappy and romantic with girlfriends, but thinking of them would just push him even further into the depths of sulkiness), the day where all the guys will predictably be way too wrapped up in their girlfriends to pay Patrick any attention.
And this is true, pretty much. So Patrick sulks through set-up, sulks through their free time, sulks through sound-check, and sulks backstage until Andy's half-way through his drum warm-up regimen (with some girl - Patrick can't keep track of all the Girlfriends Of Bandmates, except for Pete's - trying to stroke his leg with her foot, and Patrick can tell Andy's pissed about that distraction, but won't say anything) and Pete wants to know why Patrick's not singing. Patrick points to his shirt and tries to sulk harder, but at this point, that's sort of impossible, so he ends up in a cartoony pout, bottom lip sticking out and eyebrows furrowed, and Pete giggles (this is so not how he was supposed to react; he was supposed to say "Awww," or something to that effect, and pull Patrick into a hug, and maybe then Patrick would have felt a little less lonely).
"I don't get it, Patty Boy."
"Don't fucking call me that," Patrick mumbles (And tries to give Pete a Glare Of Death, but Pete just giggles again, and god, when will he stop that?).
"Wash your mouth out with soap, young man!" Pete tries to use a mockingly deep fatherly way, but he keeps giggling and "ruffling" Patrick's "hair" (fucking male pattern baldness, Patrick thinks; that's why nobody likes him). "But seriously, Patrick, what's got your panties in a twist?"
"..."
"Aww, is someone bitter cause he's alone on the day of love?" Patrick's had enough, frankly, and decides that the best way to react is to storm out in a whirlwind of slamming doors (which ends up, Patrick realizes later, as being a bit of an overreaction). So he throws open a door in the practice room, only to be faced with a few shirts on flimsy hangers.
"This," Patrick half-shouts in an attempt to keep up his angry mood, "Is the closet." He pulls open the other door and rushes out, slamming it with all the force he can muster behind him.
And this is why Patrick is now in the backstage bathroom, perched on the counter, and really, he's never thrown a bitch-fit like that before, especially over something so stupid and trivial. But it's too late to change his reaction now, so he has to follow through, which is why he's letting Pete keep knocking on the door like an idiot. Patrick's not exactly sure, actually, who's acting stupider; the one locking himself in the bathroom because of some stupid little comment, or the one pounding to get in and apologize. And this whole thing is ridiculous, Patrick knows, because why is he so annoyed about Valentine's Day anyway? Who is he so jealous of? The door opens, and Patrick guesses that Pete went and got the key from one of the tech guys at the venue.
"It's almost time to go on," Pete explains, but then tries to sit next to Patrick. "Scoot over," he mutters. "I want to apologize."
"You don't have to," Patrick says glumly. "I'm just kind of bitchy today, I guess."
"PMS-ing?" Pete shifts nervously under Patrick's glare. "Sorry. Foot in mouth." And now they're both laughing, Patrick first because of how funny Pete looks when he's embarrassed, and Pete out of relief because he knows if Patrick had really been that mad, it would have made for a bad show, and because he can't stand to see Patrick upset. "So... what's wrong with Valentine's Day?"
"Oh, I don't know." Patrick thinks for a bit. "I guess cause it's rubbing the fact that no one likes me in my face."
"That's not true," Pete murmurs. "Lots of people like you."
"Like who?" Patrick turns his head away until Pete puts a hand on his cheek to make him face him.
And really, it's not like Patrick has never been kissed before. It's just that when it's slow and soft and perfect, and from someone he never knew he wanted to be brushing lips so gently with, it's enough to make him almost fall off that tile counter. And today, when Patrick is actually grinning on stage (like an idiot, he thinks, but doesn't care), it's because he's finally found the person to make this Valentine's Day actually be a happy occasion.
Author:
lucentvictrola Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Patrick/Pete
POV: Third
Summary: Really, it's not like Patrick never wears green.
Disclaimer: Didn't happen, don't own, don't whine, don't sue.
Author's Notes: My Valentine's Day one-shot. Because it was just screaming to be written.
Really, it's not like Patrick never wears green. It's just that everyone else in the tour, the country, the world is wearing some shade of pink today, and there sulks Patrick in the darkest green shirt he could find. And today (today, Patrick thinks with comtempt, and if one could sneer in his mind, Patrick would be), it's not because Pete always says it brings out his eyes.
No, no, today is Valentine's Day, the day Patrick loathes with every fiber of his being (except the few where he would be all sappy and romantic with girlfriends, but thinking of them would just push him even further into the depths of sulkiness), the day where all the guys will predictably be way too wrapped up in their girlfriends to pay Patrick any attention.
And this is true, pretty much. So Patrick sulks through set-up, sulks through their free time, sulks through sound-check, and sulks backstage until Andy's half-way through his drum warm-up regimen (with some girl - Patrick can't keep track of all the Girlfriends Of Bandmates, except for Pete's - trying to stroke his leg with her foot, and Patrick can tell Andy's pissed about that distraction, but won't say anything) and Pete wants to know why Patrick's not singing. Patrick points to his shirt and tries to sulk harder, but at this point, that's sort of impossible, so he ends up in a cartoony pout, bottom lip sticking out and eyebrows furrowed, and Pete giggles (this is so not how he was supposed to react; he was supposed to say "Awww," or something to that effect, and pull Patrick into a hug, and maybe then Patrick would have felt a little less lonely).
"I don't get it, Patty Boy."
"Don't fucking call me that," Patrick mumbles (And tries to give Pete a Glare Of Death, but Pete just giggles again, and god, when will he stop that?).
"Wash your mouth out with soap, young man!" Pete tries to use a mockingly deep fatherly way, but he keeps giggling and "ruffling" Patrick's "hair" (fucking male pattern baldness, Patrick thinks; that's why nobody likes him). "But seriously, Patrick, what's got your panties in a twist?"
"..."
"Aww, is someone bitter cause he's alone on the day of love?" Patrick's had enough, frankly, and decides that the best way to react is to storm out in a whirlwind of slamming doors (which ends up, Patrick realizes later, as being a bit of an overreaction). So he throws open a door in the practice room, only to be faced with a few shirts on flimsy hangers.
"This," Patrick half-shouts in an attempt to keep up his angry mood, "Is the closet." He pulls open the other door and rushes out, slamming it with all the force he can muster behind him.
And this is why Patrick is now in the backstage bathroom, perched on the counter, and really, he's never thrown a bitch-fit like that before, especially over something so stupid and trivial. But it's too late to change his reaction now, so he has to follow through, which is why he's letting Pete keep knocking on the door like an idiot. Patrick's not exactly sure, actually, who's acting stupider; the one locking himself in the bathroom because of some stupid little comment, or the one pounding to get in and apologize. And this whole thing is ridiculous, Patrick knows, because why is he so annoyed about Valentine's Day anyway? Who is he so jealous of? The door opens, and Patrick guesses that Pete went and got the key from one of the tech guys at the venue.
"It's almost time to go on," Pete explains, but then tries to sit next to Patrick. "Scoot over," he mutters. "I want to apologize."
"You don't have to," Patrick says glumly. "I'm just kind of bitchy today, I guess."
"PMS-ing?" Pete shifts nervously under Patrick's glare. "Sorry. Foot in mouth." And now they're both laughing, Patrick first because of how funny Pete looks when he's embarrassed, and Pete out of relief because he knows if Patrick had really been that mad, it would have made for a bad show, and because he can't stand to see Patrick upset. "So... what's wrong with Valentine's Day?"
"Oh, I don't know." Patrick thinks for a bit. "I guess cause it's rubbing the fact that no one likes me in my face."
"That's not true," Pete murmurs. "Lots of people like you."
"Like who?" Patrick turns his head away until Pete puts a hand on his cheek to make him face him.
And really, it's not like Patrick has never been kissed before. It's just that when it's slow and soft and perfect, and from someone he never knew he wanted to be brushing lips so gently with, it's enough to make him almost fall off that tile counter. And today, when Patrick is actually grinning on stage (like an idiot, he thinks, but doesn't care), it's because he's finally found the person to make this Valentine's Day actually be a happy occasion.