TheThreshold.11
Title: The Threshold.
Summary : The most popular boy in school walks through the door of a local shop. In the time it takes for him to walk back out, he's done something that will drastically change his entire world.
Author :
burgerking. I claim nothing but the story itself!
Rating : PG-13.
Author's Notes : It's still not done! So I'd like to take this time to totally pimp out the RP
northinstitute; but only because there needs to be some PxP action. And now, on to the story...
01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10
Patrick and Peter had agreed (or rather, Patrick had demanded and Pete had been forced to agree) that they were not, in fact, a couple. They were going to take things slowly and see how their relationship played out. Pete found this to be terribly superfluous; hadn’t it already played out over the entire school year? Nevertheless, he agreed to do whatever made Patrick happy.
And Patrick was happy these days. Though he wouldn’t admit it, there was something oddly satisfying about walking beside Pete all day during school. As they strolled side-by-side across the crowded cafeteria on one particular afternoon, Patrick felt as though he was finally seeing things from the other side of the glass. He couldn’t help but notice the way girls reacted to Pete - the way they fluttered their eyelashes, puffed out their chests, and hid shy giggles behind neon-pink nails. Go ahead, he told them silently, Lust away! You can look, but you can’t touch.
Pete, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the wave of flirting that seemed to follow him. Perhaps he was used to it by now, or perhaps he’d tuned out every frequency except for Patrick.
Just before the not-quite-couple reached their seats at the beloved Geek table, a girl unexpectedly placed herself directly in their path. One hand was on her hip, the other was twirling a lock of bleached hair around her finger. Pete smiled his usual friendly smile, but Patrick began bitterly analyzing her outfit - her brastrap was clearly visible, and what, exactly, was that skirt supposed to be covering? She entered into Pete’s personal space and Patrick felt the word “slut” bubble up in the back of his mind. This, he decided, must be what it felt like to be a jealous girlfriend.
“Hey Pete,” the girl purred.
“Hey Shauna.”
“So, um, there’s gonna be a party at Rich’s house tonight. You should go.” She grinned somewhat-seductively, and then turned to Patrick. Her expression faded a bit, and she ceased the twirling of her hair. “You can come too, um… it’s Patrick, right?” This time, her smile was uncertain, and Patrick knew she’d only invited him in order to score points with Pete. Still, his face lit up, and “slut” seemed to be the word furthest from his mind - She’s a sweetheart! A saint! Oh, what a girl!
“Sorry,” Pete said suddenly, remembering the talk he’d had with Joe. He placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We’re busy tonight.”
“…Oh,” replied the deflated Shauna, who was clearly not used to being rejected. “Okay.” She let out an awkward sort of laugh and quickly walked away, departing with some hand gesture that she’d seen on MTV.
Patrick looked curiously at Pete as they continued toward their table. “Why did you say that, Pete? I… I’ve never been invited to one of those parties.” They sat. Pete avoided looking at the sad eyes that were burning into him. Patrick lowered his voice. “Look, I know you’re sick of the popular life, but I’d kill to be a part of it.”
“You don’t want that,” Pete assured him, still not making eye-contact.
“Why not?”
Pete didn’t have an answer for this - not at the moment, anyway. And so the problem was forgotten, and lunch went on as usual.
At the end of the day, Patrick went to his locker as he always did. When he opened it, to his surprise, he found that a school napkin had been taped up inside. There was a familiar scrawling on it, in deep blue ink; he took the note down and read it.
Trick -
You only hold me up like this ‘cause you don’t know who I really am.
I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive. Now, I only waste it dreaming of you.
- Peter Panda.
***
Night-time fell. Pete was now in Patrick’s bed, where he seemed to be spending most of his time these days. He and Patrick would always just lie together, sometimes for minutes and sometimes for hours; sometimes they’d talk and sometimes they didn’t have to. Pete somehow felt at his worst/best when he was spilling his guts to Patrick, but more and more often lately he was beginning to realize that Patrick knew every word before he had a chance to say them. (Sometimes words seemed to be all that Pete had going for him, and perhaps he should have hated Patrick for taking that away - but instead, he loved him.)
Today, however, Patrick was not beside Pete. He was at his desk on the other side of the room, poring over an essay for school. Pete - who had spent the past ten minutes frowning at Patrick’s ceiling - eventually turned his head toward the desk. “Aren’t you done yet?” he whined.
Patrick slowly returned to reality. “Why?” he asked looking over his shoulder. Pete swore he saw question marks in those funny blue eyes. “You don’t need it today,” Patrick observed.
And he was right; he always was. Pete didn’t need to be held or told that everything would be alright. Today, he was hoping Patrick would join him for a different reason. “You’re right, you got me,” Pete said with a smirk, finally shifting onto his side so that he could see the other boy properly. “I was thinking… ah… since your parents won’t be home tonight…”
“No.” Patrick turned back to his paper.
“But you didn’t even let me -”
“No sex, Pete.”
The smaller boy let out a twisted snarl as he dropped back onto the mattress. “Well… why the hell not?”
“Because we… we’re not even dating yet.” Patrick was suddenly gripping his pen very hard, and why oh why did he have to sweat so much?
“So?” Pete prompted. He clearly wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Patrick sighed in defeat.
“Look, I’m… I’m kind of… waiting ‘til I get married.” Pete bolted upright.
“No way. No way!”
“Yes way,” Patrick mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard Pete cross the room.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Wow. Kind of old-fashioned, don’t you think?”
“Fuck you,” growled Patrick.
“Fuck me? Changed your mind pretty quick, there.”
Patrick tried to force back a laugh, but only succeeded in turning it into a snort. Pete grinned, and before either boy was really sure of what was going on, Pete had crawled under the desk and placed his hands on Patrick’s belt buckle. “Okay, how about oral sex then? Does that still count?”
“I - I don’t know, I just -” Patrick bit hard on his bottom lip, severely flustered by Pete’s sudden onslaught of horniness. “Jesus, just stop it, Pete!”
Pete raised his eyebrows. “Why? I’m just trying to…” He paused. “Aw, Trick… you’re scared, aren’t you!”
“So what if I am? Does it matter? You’re still not getting any.”
“Good point.” Pete got to his feet once more and placed himself heavily in Patrick’s lap; the latter took in a sharp breath. “So. What are you writing?”
“Last high school essay of my life,” replied Patrick, hoping that the conversation would return to normal now. “Though really, what’s the point? Not like my education is taking me anywhere.”
“Shut up,” Pete mumbled, settling himself comfortably against the other and letting his eyes flutter shut. “Tell me about the essay.”
Patrick was a bit surprised to see that Pete had shifted gears so quickly. “Um… okay, sure. We had to write about someone who we met during our school career and who changed our life.”
“And who is Mr. Patrick Stump writing about?”
“None other than Mr. Peter Wentz, of course,” Patrick replied. Though he couldn’t see Pete, he was sure he felt the boy smile.
“Let me see.”
Patrick obediently moved the paper from his desk to Pete’s hands, and the younger boy opened his eyes to read it. There were a few moments of silence as Pete skimmed over the paper, unknowingly making Patrick terribly uncomfortable.
“I don’t like the way you worded this,” he said at last. Patrick rolled his eyes.
“Well, we can’t all be wordsmiths like you -”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Pete sat up and put the paper back onto the desk, pointing to a specific word. Patrick squinted at it.
“Hero?” It seemed so simple that he was sure Pete must be mistaken.
“Yeah. I can’t be your hero.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because heroes save people,” Pete responded, laughing a bit. “I can’t be your hero because you’re mine.”
“Yeah, right,” Patrick scoffed. “You saved me from being absolutely miserable. You gave me something I would never have expected - Because seriously, if someone like you comes out of the closet, they should at least get a handsome boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me,” Pete gasped. He stood and gestured toward Patrick. “I‘ve got the most handsome sort-of-boyfriend in the world!” he said. “Even though he won’t sleep with me, he’s still cute as a button.”
“Whatever,” laughed Patrick, as he shook his head and returned to the paper, “I’m still keeping the word ‘hero’ in there.”
“Fine,” Pete replied, returning to his spot on Patrick’s thigh, “But since it’s a lie, I guess I’ll just have to stay with you until I can save you for real.”
“Deal,” agreed the other.
Summary : The most popular boy in school walks through the door of a local shop. In the time it takes for him to walk back out, he's done something that will drastically change his entire world.
Author :
burgerking. I claim nothing but the story itself!Rating : PG-13.
Author's Notes : It's still not done! So I'd like to take this time to totally pimp out the RP
northinstitute; but only because there needs to be some PxP action. And now, on to the story...01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10
Patrick and Peter had agreed (or rather, Patrick had demanded and Pete had been forced to agree) that they were not, in fact, a couple. They were going to take things slowly and see how their relationship played out. Pete found this to be terribly superfluous; hadn’t it already played out over the entire school year? Nevertheless, he agreed to do whatever made Patrick happy.
And Patrick was happy these days. Though he wouldn’t admit it, there was something oddly satisfying about walking beside Pete all day during school. As they strolled side-by-side across the crowded cafeteria on one particular afternoon, Patrick felt as though he was finally seeing things from the other side of the glass. He couldn’t help but notice the way girls reacted to Pete - the way they fluttered their eyelashes, puffed out their chests, and hid shy giggles behind neon-pink nails. Go ahead, he told them silently, Lust away! You can look, but you can’t touch.
Pete, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to the wave of flirting that seemed to follow him. Perhaps he was used to it by now, or perhaps he’d tuned out every frequency except for Patrick.
Just before the not-quite-couple reached their seats at the beloved Geek table, a girl unexpectedly placed herself directly in their path. One hand was on her hip, the other was twirling a lock of bleached hair around her finger. Pete smiled his usual friendly smile, but Patrick began bitterly analyzing her outfit - her brastrap was clearly visible, and what, exactly, was that skirt supposed to be covering? She entered into Pete’s personal space and Patrick felt the word “slut” bubble up in the back of his mind. This, he decided, must be what it felt like to be a jealous girlfriend.
“Hey Pete,” the girl purred.
“Hey Shauna.”
“So, um, there’s gonna be a party at Rich’s house tonight. You should go.” She grinned somewhat-seductively, and then turned to Patrick. Her expression faded a bit, and she ceased the twirling of her hair. “You can come too, um… it’s Patrick, right?” This time, her smile was uncertain, and Patrick knew she’d only invited him in order to score points with Pete. Still, his face lit up, and “slut” seemed to be the word furthest from his mind - She’s a sweetheart! A saint! Oh, what a girl!
“Sorry,” Pete said suddenly, remembering the talk he’d had with Joe. He placed a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “We’re busy tonight.”
“…Oh,” replied the deflated Shauna, who was clearly not used to being rejected. “Okay.” She let out an awkward sort of laugh and quickly walked away, departing with some hand gesture that she’d seen on MTV.
Patrick looked curiously at Pete as they continued toward their table. “Why did you say that, Pete? I… I’ve never been invited to one of those parties.” They sat. Pete avoided looking at the sad eyes that were burning into him. Patrick lowered his voice. “Look, I know you’re sick of the popular life, but I’d kill to be a part of it.”
“You don’t want that,” Pete assured him, still not making eye-contact.
“Why not?”
Pete didn’t have an answer for this - not at the moment, anyway. And so the problem was forgotten, and lunch went on as usual.
At the end of the day, Patrick went to his locker as he always did. When he opened it, to his surprise, he found that a school napkin had been taped up inside. There was a familiar scrawling on it, in deep blue ink; he took the note down and read it.
Trick -
You only hold me up like this ‘cause you don’t know who I really am.
I used to waste my time dreaming of being alive. Now, I only waste it dreaming of you.
- Peter Panda.
Night-time fell. Pete was now in Patrick’s bed, where he seemed to be spending most of his time these days. He and Patrick would always just lie together, sometimes for minutes and sometimes for hours; sometimes they’d talk and sometimes they didn’t have to. Pete somehow felt at his worst/best when he was spilling his guts to Patrick, but more and more often lately he was beginning to realize that Patrick knew every word before he had a chance to say them. (Sometimes words seemed to be all that Pete had going for him, and perhaps he should have hated Patrick for taking that away - but instead, he loved him.)
Today, however, Patrick was not beside Pete. He was at his desk on the other side of the room, poring over an essay for school. Pete - who had spent the past ten minutes frowning at Patrick’s ceiling - eventually turned his head toward the desk. “Aren’t you done yet?” he whined.
Patrick slowly returned to reality. “Why?” he asked looking over his shoulder. Pete swore he saw question marks in those funny blue eyes. “You don’t need it today,” Patrick observed.
And he was right; he always was. Pete didn’t need to be held or told that everything would be alright. Today, he was hoping Patrick would join him for a different reason. “You’re right, you got me,” Pete said with a smirk, finally shifting onto his side so that he could see the other boy properly. “I was thinking… ah… since your parents won’t be home tonight…”
“No.” Patrick turned back to his paper.
“But you didn’t even let me -”
“No sex, Pete.”
The smaller boy let out a twisted snarl as he dropped back onto the mattress. “Well… why the hell not?”
“Because we… we’re not even dating yet.” Patrick was suddenly gripping his pen very hard, and why oh why did he have to sweat so much?
“So?” Pete prompted. He clearly wasn’t going to give up without a fight. Patrick sighed in defeat.
“Look, I’m… I’m kind of… waiting ‘til I get married.” Pete bolted upright.
“No way. No way!”
“Yes way,” Patrick mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard Pete cross the room.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Wow. Kind of old-fashioned, don’t you think?”
“Fuck you,” growled Patrick.
“Fuck me? Changed your mind pretty quick, there.”
Patrick tried to force back a laugh, but only succeeded in turning it into a snort. Pete grinned, and before either boy was really sure of what was going on, Pete had crawled under the desk and placed his hands on Patrick’s belt buckle. “Okay, how about oral sex then? Does that still count?”
“I - I don’t know, I just -” Patrick bit hard on his bottom lip, severely flustered by Pete’s sudden onslaught of horniness. “Jesus, just stop it, Pete!”
Pete raised his eyebrows. “Why? I’m just trying to…” He paused. “Aw, Trick… you’re scared, aren’t you!”
“So what if I am? Does it matter? You’re still not getting any.”
“Good point.” Pete got to his feet once more and placed himself heavily in Patrick’s lap; the latter took in a sharp breath. “So. What are you writing?”
“Last high school essay of my life,” replied Patrick, hoping that the conversation would return to normal now. “Though really, what’s the point? Not like my education is taking me anywhere.”
“Shut up,” Pete mumbled, settling himself comfortably against the other and letting his eyes flutter shut. “Tell me about the essay.”
Patrick was a bit surprised to see that Pete had shifted gears so quickly. “Um… okay, sure. We had to write about someone who we met during our school career and who changed our life.”
“And who is Mr. Patrick Stump writing about?”
“None other than Mr. Peter Wentz, of course,” Patrick replied. Though he couldn’t see Pete, he was sure he felt the boy smile.
“Let me see.”
Patrick obediently moved the paper from his desk to Pete’s hands, and the younger boy opened his eyes to read it. There were a few moments of silence as Pete skimmed over the paper, unknowingly making Patrick terribly uncomfortable.
“I don’t like the way you worded this,” he said at last. Patrick rolled his eyes.
“Well, we can’t all be wordsmiths like you -”
“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Pete sat up and put the paper back onto the desk, pointing to a specific word. Patrick squinted at it.
“Hero?” It seemed so simple that he was sure Pete must be mistaken.
“Yeah. I can’t be your hero.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because heroes save people,” Pete responded, laughing a bit. “I can’t be your hero because you’re mine.”
“Yeah, right,” Patrick scoffed. “You saved me from being absolutely miserable. You gave me something I would never have expected - Because seriously, if someone like you comes out of the closet, they should at least get a handsome boyfriend.”
“Oh, you’ve gotta be shitting me,” Pete gasped. He stood and gestured toward Patrick. “I‘ve got the most handsome sort-of-boyfriend in the world!” he said. “Even though he won’t sleep with me, he’s still cute as a button.”
“Whatever,” laughed Patrick, as he shook his head and returned to the paper, “I’m still keeping the word ‘hero’ in there.”
“Fine,” Pete replied, returning to his spot on Patrick’s thigh, “But since it’s a lie, I guess I’ll just have to stay with you until I can save you for real.”
“Deal,” agreed the other.