Drop A Heart, Break a Name (Standalone)
Title: Drop a heart, Break a Name
Author: Jesse Drache
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Totally in my imagination, never happened. I don’t own them, though I wish I did.
Summary: Patrick’s all alone on Valentine’s Day and isn’t enjoying himself.
A/N: I got this idea a while ago and was supposed to be posted on V-day but I’m terribly slow and it took me until now to actually write it out. Sorry about that. Many thanks to my darling beta
musictoyourlips without whom this would have been totally out of character and wouldn’t have worked at all.
Just for the record, whoever thought that throwing a Valentine’s Day party was a good idea was an idiot. Or so Patrick had come to decide over the course of the evening. Then he realized that going to the party had actually been his idea and the urge to slam his head against the nearest flat surface almost overcame him.
It wasn’t that he was alone in the room with a group of strangers, although it felt like it. Andy was around somewhere along with the guys from The Academy Is. Even Jon from Panic!, who had decided to come back to Chicago to spend some time with his girlfriend before returning to LA, was in the corner talking enthusiastically to some random guy Patrick vaguely recognized. It wasn’t that he was lonely per se; he just didn’t want to talk to any of them.
He had originally wanted to spend the evening with his friends and maybe forget about this horrid day, but as the evening progressed he had changed his mind. He just wanted to be at home, moping and hiding behind closed doors where the slew of pink and red, of couples and chick flicks, couldn’t get to him as long as he kept his TV off and his headphones on.
Instead he was sitting at the bar of some packed club, couples dancing all over the dance floor, Joe next to him, his tongue so far down some random blonde girl’s throat he was probably licking her tonsils, as Patrick took another sip of his diet coke.
Pete was off to the corner DJing and Patrick spared a moment to turn and glare at the bastard, whose fault this was. Sure it had originally been Patrick’s idea to do something for Valentine’s Day but when Patrick had woken up that morning and realized that what he really wanted to do was hide from the world, Pete had been the one to drag him from the safety of his apartment, telling him he couldn’t back out now.
He was really starting to regret this whole thing and all the posters and emails announcing Pete’s stint DJing at their friend’s club and the presence of the rest of the band.
Turning so he was no longer looking at Joe and his girl, Patrick surveyed the crowd until his eyes met those of someone he recognized. It was one of the girls from earlier that evening. Patrick tried to make himself smile at the girl, who waved at him excitedly.
Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He was perfectly aware of the fact that he was not hot, but the whole rock star thing did go a long way and he still got girls hitting on him, mostly the girls that couldn’t even get Pete to look at them, so then they came to him, flirting and buying him drinks and he let them, because sometimes it was nice to get the attention and when it came down to it, he felt bad rejecting people.
Patrick managed to make his smile convincing, then realizing that the girl was coming over, panic started to rise from the pit of his stomach. The girl had been nice, but she had kept insisting that he let her buy him a drink and even after he had conceded and let her buy him some random drink, which he hadn’t even finished, she had insisted that he drink some more. Luckily he had been momentarily saved when Pete appeared out of nowhere in a mess of flapping arms and flashing smiles. He had grabbed Patrick around the shoulders, moving him away from the girl and pulling him into a hug.
Patrick tried to give the girl an apologetic look, but realizing that she had forgotten about him and was now giving Pete an adoring look, he turned away from her and allowed himself to bask in the glow of Pete’s attention.
“Are you having a good time?” Pete asked.
Patrick opened his mouth to tell Pete the truth, that he was in fact having a horrible time, but looking up at Pete’s smiling face, he forced his own face to turn up in a similar smile.
“Yeah, great time,” he lied.
Pete’s face clearly showed that he didn’t believe him and he moved closer to Patrick. “What’s wrong?” he asked, arm going around Patrick’s shoulder to pull him closer.
Patrick leaned into Pete’s embrace, moving his lips towards Pete’s ear to explain, when he was interrupted by the arrival of Pete’s friend, Matt.
“Hey man, this party’s awesome,” Matt said, moving up so he was standing close to them.
“Yeah it is,” Pete said, sounding enthusiastic as he let go of Patrick’s shoulders. “Thank you so much for inviting me to DJ, it’s just what I needed,” he added, and Patrick felt a pang of jealousy go through his body as Pete pulled Matt into a quick hug, as well as a sense of loss as Pete’s warmth faded from his body.
“You’ve got to come see this, someone hooked up their computer to one of the screens, it’s awesome,” Matt yelled above the noise from the crowd, starting to pull Pete towards the other side of the room where another one of their friends was DJing.
Pete turned and sent Patrick an apologetic glance as he let Matt drag him away. Patrick waved at him, letting him know everything was ok before managing to escape back to the bar without the girl realizing it, where he ordered another diet coke.
He then proceeded to spill said diet coke when out of nowhere, two hands wrapped around his waist and a tall, spindly form wound itself around the rest of his body, pulling him into a tight bear hug before dropping onto the stool next to him.
“You’re in love with Pete,” Beckett said, causing a wave of panic to shoot through Patrick at his slurred words.
Patrick briefly wondered how someone so obviously wasted could see so clearly; maybe he really wasn’t subtle at all, before he busied himself with finding something to say.
“Uhm, uhm,” Patrick stumbled out, trying to find words but failing miserably.
“But it’s ok, he loves you too,” William added, reaching out and hugging Patrick again, dropping a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek.
Patrick let out a sigh of relief, realizing that William was completely wasted and didn’t actually know what he was talking about. “Sure he is,” Patrick told him, leaning over the bar and motioning for the bartender to bring them both glasses of water.
William opened his mouth to say something, his hands already mid gesture when out of nowhere Travis emerged from the crowd, wrapping his arm around William’s waist and swinging him around until he collided against him, capturing his mouth.
“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” Travis proclaimed loudly into William’s ear as soon as they broke apart, sparing a wide smile for Patrick before pulling William into another heated kiss.
Staring at the couple next to him, Patrick resisted the urge to slam his head against the bar top and motioned for the bartender to ignore William’s water and just bring him his.
Grasping the cold glass beneath his fingers, he busied himself taking quick gulps of the cool water. Hearing a loud moan coming from the couple next to him, Patrick decided that going home would probably be best. He put a twenty in the bartender’s tip jar before turning to go. He said a quick good bye to William and Travis, doubtful that either heard him before heading for the door.
On his way out he saw the girl again; she waved him over, but he just shot her an apologetic smile and continued towards the door. She wasn’t what he wanted anyway.
He thought about telling someone he was leaving but looking around at his friends, all busy talking or dancing, he figured he wouldn’t be missed and if someone did notice hopefully they would just assume that he was off hanging out with one of his local friends.
Making his way to the doors, he managed to push past the line of people waiting to get in and stepped out into the cold night.
*~*
Patrick pulled his coat tighter about his body, face scrunching up against the biting wind as he leaned his head down, hoping his hat would protect him against the wind. He heard a beeping coming from his pocked and recognizing it as his Blackberry, he reached for the thing, groaning angrily when it fell to the floor with a loud clang.
Going after the phone, his frozen fingers fumbled with it a few times before he finally managed to get a firm grasp on the cold plastic. He pressed the answer button as he found an alleyway to move into, the brick walls providing him with shelter from the wind.
Pulling the phone up to his ear he heard Pete’s voice coming clearly, and somewhat loudly, through the airways. “Trick, where are you?” Pete screamed into the phone. Patrick could hear the party still going strong in the background.
“Going home,” Patrick answered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.
“Are you walking?” Pete’s concern was palpable even over the airwaves.
“It’s ok, I’m not too far away,” Patrick told him, gripping the phone tighter.
“Stay where you are, I’ll come get you,” Pete said, sounding like he was looking for something.
“No, don’t worry,” he said into the speaker.
A sigh came from the other end. “Are you sure?” Pete asked, his tone making it evident that he knew he’d lost the argument.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, well, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”
Patrick nodded then realizing that Pete couldn’t see him added a mumbled “yes” into the phone.
“Ok. If you change your mind about the ride, just call. Night ‘Trick.”
“Night Pete,” Patrick whispered into the phone before hanging up, stuffing his phone and now frozen hands into his pocket before once again pulling his hat down further over his face and trudging on to his apartment.
*~*
Walking home Patrick silently berated himself for being stupid enough to turn down the ride, regardless of how bad an idea the ride may have been. The car would have at least been warm. After spending the majority of the winter touring in warm places, it seemed that he had lost the ability to withstand extremely cold temperatures, which he had developed after years of living in Chicago.
Saddened over the loss of his immunity to the cold, he told himself that he should have just stayed in Florida or something. Gone to visit his grandmother, they couldn’t possibly be celebrating Valentine’s Day and even if they had, at least it would be warm and he wouldn’t be facing the possibility of freezing to death.
Spotting his apartment building half a block away, Patrick sighed in relief.
If he had been honest with himself he would have counted himself lucky to have made it home. Particularly since he’d almost forgotten what it looked like in the many months of not living in the place and also because the biting wind was making his eyes water and blurring his vision. Plenty of boxes still sat in some of the rooms and he couldn’t remember his neighbor’s name.
Patrick fumbled a few times with his keys before he finally found the one that opened the door and stumbled into the lobby. He took the elevator up to his floor, and walked down the hallway, before stopping at his door.
Standing in front of his door, the first thought that went through his mind was that this wasn’t his apartment because there was no way that anyone would leave him a red heart, which looked like it could contain chocolate, propped up against his door.
He briefly contemplated kicking the box but decided that just because he hated Valentine’s Day he shouldn’t take it out on those who actually had dates, and picked it up, dropping it on his table as soon as he got the door open. He would return it to whichever neighbor it belonged to in the morning. It probably meant for the bitchy brunette across the hall. She could wait another day for her chocolate.
Dropping down on the couch, Patrick grabbed the remote, stretching out on the couch as he flipped through the channels. Finding nothing but a slew of infomercials and made for TV movies, he settled on the first thing he recognized, a Meg Ryan movie.
Yawning loudly, he set the control down and pulled a blanket over himself, letting the pictures on screen and the sounds of the TV lull him to sleep.
*~*
Patrick was awoken by the sound of knocking coming from his front door. Groaning loudly, he blindly reached out, grabbing one of the couch cushions and using it to ward off the intrusion by placing it over his head.
He managed to block out the sound of the knocking, dropping back to a quiet sleep when he felt something land on his back and start rooting around his clothes, until it finally burrowed beneath the couch cushion and a warm tongue started licking the side of his face.
“Ew, Hemmy,” he said, pushing the cushion off as he turned over on the couch, his face now open to the overzealous dog’s full assault as he laughed.
Patrick pushed the dog so he was laying on his legs, gazing up at him happily. Petting Hemingway’s stomach, Patrick allowed his eyes to move to Pete, who was holding the open box of chocolates and was currently eating a caramel crème, the spare key Patrick gave him in case of emergencies dangling from his other hand.
“Did you not like the chocolates?” Pete asked over dramatically, an exaggerated pout on his face.
Patrick squinted up at him, knowing him well enough to realize that beneath the façade of fake woundedness, Pete was in fact somewhat hurt. Patrick’s face contorted in a look of confusion and Pete held out the chocolates accusingly.
“Why are you eating my neighbor’s chocolates?” Patrick asked, the pounding in his brain worsening as he tried to think.
“Did you not read the card?” Pete said, sounding a little less hurt and more nervous now.
“What card? The last thing I would want to do on Valentine’s Day is read some mushy love note meant for someone else.”
Pete looked at him like he was retarded then threw the whole tin at Patrick who caught it awkwardly before looking down to find that there was in fact a card attached to the top of the box. Opening it he let his eyes fall over the familiar script, deciphering the messy handwriting.
Pattycakes,
be my valentine.
xo
Pete.
“They’re for me?” Patrick asked, bewildered.
Pete nodded, not looking at Patrick.
“Oh,” Patrick said, silence unwinding awkwardly between them.
Patrick moved off the couch, not knowing what to say as he stood before Pete who still would not meet his eyes.
“I should go,” Pete finally said, turning to grab Hemingway but was stopped when Patrick reached out, grabbing the back of his head as he simultaneously stepped closer to capture Pete’s lips in a kiss.
Pete stood there stunned for a few seconds, not really processing what was happening, then feeling Patrick’s body pressed against his, his hands moving up the smooth back as his lips and tongue met the younger man’s.
They let their tongues twine around each other’s before Patrick finally pulled back, laying his forehead against Pete’s, his green eyes meeting Pete’s caramel ones. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, lips moving against Pete’s as his hands pulled Pete closer to him.
Pete smiled, leaning in to softly kiss Patrick’s lips, before taking Patrick’s hands in his and leading him back to the couch where they took a seat together next to Hemingway, who seemed content to just lie asleep with his head on Patrick’s forgotten cushion.
Resting his head against Pete’s shoulder, in a way that was comfortable from years of forced closeness, Patrick looked up at Pete. “Will you be my Valentine?” he asked, his voice serious.
Pete reached down to stroke his hair, his eyes looking amused. “Valentine’s day was yesterday,” he whispered, his other hand forming light circles on Patrick’s back.
“I mean for next year. I’m planning ahead,” Patrick said, looking up at Pete expectantly.
The corner of Pete’s lips quirked up into a smile as he leaned in to playfully murmur, “we’ll see,” before leaning in to capture Patrick’s lips once again.
*~*~*~*
Author: Jesse Drache
Pairing: Pete/Patrick
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Totally in my imagination, never happened. I don’t own them, though I wish I did.
Summary: Patrick’s all alone on Valentine’s Day and isn’t enjoying himself.
A/N: I got this idea a while ago and was supposed to be posted on V-day but I’m terribly slow and it took me until now to actually write it out. Sorry about that. Many thanks to my darling beta
musictoyourlips without whom this would have been totally out of character and wouldn’t have worked at all. Just for the record, whoever thought that throwing a Valentine’s Day party was a good idea was an idiot. Or so Patrick had come to decide over the course of the evening. Then he realized that going to the party had actually been his idea and the urge to slam his head against the nearest flat surface almost overcame him.
It wasn’t that he was alone in the room with a group of strangers, although it felt like it. Andy was around somewhere along with the guys from The Academy Is. Even Jon from Panic!, who had decided to come back to Chicago to spend some time with his girlfriend before returning to LA, was in the corner talking enthusiastically to some random guy Patrick vaguely recognized. It wasn’t that he was lonely per se; he just didn’t want to talk to any of them.
He had originally wanted to spend the evening with his friends and maybe forget about this horrid day, but as the evening progressed he had changed his mind. He just wanted to be at home, moping and hiding behind closed doors where the slew of pink and red, of couples and chick flicks, couldn’t get to him as long as he kept his TV off and his headphones on.
Instead he was sitting at the bar of some packed club, couples dancing all over the dance floor, Joe next to him, his tongue so far down some random blonde girl’s throat he was probably licking her tonsils, as Patrick took another sip of his diet coke.
Pete was off to the corner DJing and Patrick spared a moment to turn and glare at the bastard, whose fault this was. Sure it had originally been Patrick’s idea to do something for Valentine’s Day but when Patrick had woken up that morning and realized that what he really wanted to do was hide from the world, Pete had been the one to drag him from the safety of his apartment, telling him he couldn’t back out now.
He was really starting to regret this whole thing and all the posters and emails announcing Pete’s stint DJing at their friend’s club and the presence of the rest of the band.
Turning so he was no longer looking at Joe and his girl, Patrick surveyed the crowd until his eyes met those of someone he recognized. It was one of the girls from earlier that evening. Patrick tried to make himself smile at the girl, who waved at him excitedly.
Patrick wasn’t an idiot. He was perfectly aware of the fact that he was not hot, but the whole rock star thing did go a long way and he still got girls hitting on him, mostly the girls that couldn’t even get Pete to look at them, so then they came to him, flirting and buying him drinks and he let them, because sometimes it was nice to get the attention and when it came down to it, he felt bad rejecting people.
Patrick managed to make his smile convincing, then realizing that the girl was coming over, panic started to rise from the pit of his stomach. The girl had been nice, but she had kept insisting that he let her buy him a drink and even after he had conceded and let her buy him some random drink, which he hadn’t even finished, she had insisted that he drink some more. Luckily he had been momentarily saved when Pete appeared out of nowhere in a mess of flapping arms and flashing smiles. He had grabbed Patrick around the shoulders, moving him away from the girl and pulling him into a hug.
Patrick tried to give the girl an apologetic look, but realizing that she had forgotten about him and was now giving Pete an adoring look, he turned away from her and allowed himself to bask in the glow of Pete’s attention.
“Are you having a good time?” Pete asked.
Patrick opened his mouth to tell Pete the truth, that he was in fact having a horrible time, but looking up at Pete’s smiling face, he forced his own face to turn up in a similar smile.
“Yeah, great time,” he lied.
Pete’s face clearly showed that he didn’t believe him and he moved closer to Patrick. “What’s wrong?” he asked, arm going around Patrick’s shoulder to pull him closer.
Patrick leaned into Pete’s embrace, moving his lips towards Pete’s ear to explain, when he was interrupted by the arrival of Pete’s friend, Matt.
“Hey man, this party’s awesome,” Matt said, moving up so he was standing close to them.
“Yeah it is,” Pete said, sounding enthusiastic as he let go of Patrick’s shoulders. “Thank you so much for inviting me to DJ, it’s just what I needed,” he added, and Patrick felt a pang of jealousy go through his body as Pete pulled Matt into a quick hug, as well as a sense of loss as Pete’s warmth faded from his body.
“You’ve got to come see this, someone hooked up their computer to one of the screens, it’s awesome,” Matt yelled above the noise from the crowd, starting to pull Pete towards the other side of the room where another one of their friends was DJing.
Pete turned and sent Patrick an apologetic glance as he let Matt drag him away. Patrick waved at him, letting him know everything was ok before managing to escape back to the bar without the girl realizing it, where he ordered another diet coke.
He then proceeded to spill said diet coke when out of nowhere, two hands wrapped around his waist and a tall, spindly form wound itself around the rest of his body, pulling him into a tight bear hug before dropping onto the stool next to him.
“You’re in love with Pete,” Beckett said, causing a wave of panic to shoot through Patrick at his slurred words.
Patrick briefly wondered how someone so obviously wasted could see so clearly; maybe he really wasn’t subtle at all, before he busied himself with finding something to say.
“Uhm, uhm,” Patrick stumbled out, trying to find words but failing miserably.
“But it’s ok, he loves you too,” William added, reaching out and hugging Patrick again, dropping a sloppy, wet kiss on his cheek.
Patrick let out a sigh of relief, realizing that William was completely wasted and didn’t actually know what he was talking about. “Sure he is,” Patrick told him, leaning over the bar and motioning for the bartender to bring them both glasses of water.
William opened his mouth to say something, his hands already mid gesture when out of nowhere Travis emerged from the crowd, wrapping his arm around William’s waist and swinging him around until he collided against him, capturing his mouth.
“Happy Valentine’s day, baby,” Travis proclaimed loudly into William’s ear as soon as they broke apart, sparing a wide smile for Patrick before pulling William into another heated kiss.
Staring at the couple next to him, Patrick resisted the urge to slam his head against the bar top and motioned for the bartender to ignore William’s water and just bring him his.
Grasping the cold glass beneath his fingers, he busied himself taking quick gulps of the cool water. Hearing a loud moan coming from the couple next to him, Patrick decided that going home would probably be best. He put a twenty in the bartender’s tip jar before turning to go. He said a quick good bye to William and Travis, doubtful that either heard him before heading for the door.
On his way out he saw the girl again; she waved him over, but he just shot her an apologetic smile and continued towards the door. She wasn’t what he wanted anyway.
He thought about telling someone he was leaving but looking around at his friends, all busy talking or dancing, he figured he wouldn’t be missed and if someone did notice hopefully they would just assume that he was off hanging out with one of his local friends.
Making his way to the doors, he managed to push past the line of people waiting to get in and stepped out into the cold night.
*~*
Patrick pulled his coat tighter about his body, face scrunching up against the biting wind as he leaned his head down, hoping his hat would protect him against the wind. He heard a beeping coming from his pocked and recognizing it as his Blackberry, he reached for the thing, groaning angrily when it fell to the floor with a loud clang.
Going after the phone, his frozen fingers fumbled with it a few times before he finally managed to get a firm grasp on the cold plastic. He pressed the answer button as he found an alleyway to move into, the brick walls providing him with shelter from the wind.
Pulling the phone up to his ear he heard Pete’s voice coming clearly, and somewhat loudly, through the airways. “Trick, where are you?” Pete screamed into the phone. Patrick could hear the party still going strong in the background.
“Going home,” Patrick answered, trying to keep his teeth from chattering.
“Are you walking?” Pete’s concern was palpable even over the airwaves.
“It’s ok, I’m not too far away,” Patrick told him, gripping the phone tighter.
“Stay where you are, I’ll come get you,” Pete said, sounding like he was looking for something.
“No, don’t worry,” he said into the speaker.
A sigh came from the other end. “Are you sure?” Pete asked, his tone making it evident that he knew he’d lost the argument.
“Yeah.”
“Alright, well, are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”
Patrick nodded then realizing that Pete couldn’t see him added a mumbled “yes” into the phone.
“Ok. If you change your mind about the ride, just call. Night ‘Trick.”
“Night Pete,” Patrick whispered into the phone before hanging up, stuffing his phone and now frozen hands into his pocket before once again pulling his hat down further over his face and trudging on to his apartment.
*~*
Walking home Patrick silently berated himself for being stupid enough to turn down the ride, regardless of how bad an idea the ride may have been. The car would have at least been warm. After spending the majority of the winter touring in warm places, it seemed that he had lost the ability to withstand extremely cold temperatures, which he had developed after years of living in Chicago.
Saddened over the loss of his immunity to the cold, he told himself that he should have just stayed in Florida or something. Gone to visit his grandmother, they couldn’t possibly be celebrating Valentine’s Day and even if they had, at least it would be warm and he wouldn’t be facing the possibility of freezing to death.
Spotting his apartment building half a block away, Patrick sighed in relief.
If he had been honest with himself he would have counted himself lucky to have made it home. Particularly since he’d almost forgotten what it looked like in the many months of not living in the place and also because the biting wind was making his eyes water and blurring his vision. Plenty of boxes still sat in some of the rooms and he couldn’t remember his neighbor’s name.
Patrick fumbled a few times with his keys before he finally found the one that opened the door and stumbled into the lobby. He took the elevator up to his floor, and walked down the hallway, before stopping at his door.
Standing in front of his door, the first thought that went through his mind was that this wasn’t his apartment because there was no way that anyone would leave him a red heart, which looked like it could contain chocolate, propped up against his door.
He briefly contemplated kicking the box but decided that just because he hated Valentine’s Day he shouldn’t take it out on those who actually had dates, and picked it up, dropping it on his table as soon as he got the door open. He would return it to whichever neighbor it belonged to in the morning. It probably meant for the bitchy brunette across the hall. She could wait another day for her chocolate.
Dropping down on the couch, Patrick grabbed the remote, stretching out on the couch as he flipped through the channels. Finding nothing but a slew of infomercials and made for TV movies, he settled on the first thing he recognized, a Meg Ryan movie.
Yawning loudly, he set the control down and pulled a blanket over himself, letting the pictures on screen and the sounds of the TV lull him to sleep.
*~*
Patrick was awoken by the sound of knocking coming from his front door. Groaning loudly, he blindly reached out, grabbing one of the couch cushions and using it to ward off the intrusion by placing it over his head.
He managed to block out the sound of the knocking, dropping back to a quiet sleep when he felt something land on his back and start rooting around his clothes, until it finally burrowed beneath the couch cushion and a warm tongue started licking the side of his face.
“Ew, Hemmy,” he said, pushing the cushion off as he turned over on the couch, his face now open to the overzealous dog’s full assault as he laughed.
Patrick pushed the dog so he was laying on his legs, gazing up at him happily. Petting Hemingway’s stomach, Patrick allowed his eyes to move to Pete, who was holding the open box of chocolates and was currently eating a caramel crème, the spare key Patrick gave him in case of emergencies dangling from his other hand.
“Did you not like the chocolates?” Pete asked over dramatically, an exaggerated pout on his face.
Patrick squinted up at him, knowing him well enough to realize that beneath the façade of fake woundedness, Pete was in fact somewhat hurt. Patrick’s face contorted in a look of confusion and Pete held out the chocolates accusingly.
“Why are you eating my neighbor’s chocolates?” Patrick asked, the pounding in his brain worsening as he tried to think.
“Did you not read the card?” Pete said, sounding a little less hurt and more nervous now.
“What card? The last thing I would want to do on Valentine’s Day is read some mushy love note meant for someone else.”
Pete looked at him like he was retarded then threw the whole tin at Patrick who caught it awkwardly before looking down to find that there was in fact a card attached to the top of the box. Opening it he let his eyes fall over the familiar script, deciphering the messy handwriting.
Pattycakes,
be my valentine.
xo
Pete.
“They’re for me?” Patrick asked, bewildered.
Pete nodded, not looking at Patrick.
“Oh,” Patrick said, silence unwinding awkwardly between them.
Patrick moved off the couch, not knowing what to say as he stood before Pete who still would not meet his eyes.
“I should go,” Pete finally said, turning to grab Hemingway but was stopped when Patrick reached out, grabbing the back of his head as he simultaneously stepped closer to capture Pete’s lips in a kiss.
Pete stood there stunned for a few seconds, not really processing what was happening, then feeling Patrick’s body pressed against his, his hands moving up the smooth back as his lips and tongue met the younger man’s.
They let their tongues twine around each other’s before Patrick finally pulled back, laying his forehead against Pete’s, his green eyes meeting Pete’s caramel ones. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, lips moving against Pete’s as his hands pulled Pete closer to him.
Pete smiled, leaning in to softly kiss Patrick’s lips, before taking Patrick’s hands in his and leading him back to the couch where they took a seat together next to Hemingway, who seemed content to just lie asleep with his head on Patrick’s forgotten cushion.
Resting his head against Pete’s shoulder, in a way that was comfortable from years of forced closeness, Patrick looked up at Pete. “Will you be my Valentine?” he asked, his voice serious.
Pete reached down to stroke his hair, his eyes looking amused. “Valentine’s day was yesterday,” he whispered, his other hand forming light circles on Patrick’s back.
“I mean for next year. I’m planning ahead,” Patrick said, looking up at Pete expectantly.
The corner of Pete’s lips quirked up into a smile as he leaned in to playfully murmur, “we’ll see,” before leaning in to capture Patrick’s lips once again.
*~*~*~*