The Jewel Lounge 10
Title: The Jewel Lounge[10/11]
Author:
raverbear64/fiction_on_fire
Pairing: PatrickxPeter
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Peter has been instructed to write the story of his life. How he went from an amazing childhood, to a lonely man, to the happiest he'd ever been, to loosing it all again.
Dedication: Totrustlove_hope, simply because she's amazing.
A/N: The next chapter will be the last. It is already written, and it will be up soon...within the next few days. Thanks to anyone who is still reading this and enjoying it :D
Previous Chapters: Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four//Chapter Five//Chapter Six//Chapter Seven//Chapter Eight//Chapter Nine//
A few days after the club scene, I went back to the Lounge. As usual, I got my drink, paid my money and was given access to Patrick’s room. He smiled at me as I walked in, locking the door behind me.
“Hello beautiful.” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him as he walked towards me.
“Hi.” He said softly, sleepily.
I pulled him towards the bed, pushing him down and curling up against him. “You look tired.” I whispered, looking over his face, taking in the dark circles under his eyes.
“It’s just been a long night. And I didn’t sleep so well.” He yawned.
I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Let’s just cuddle then, okay? Or you can take a nap and I’ll stay with you.”
“But you paid…” He protested.
”It doesn’t matter.” I said quietly against his ear. “I’d gladly pay millions to spend time with you.”
He gave me a tired smile before curling closer against me. “I had fun at the club the other night.”
”Me too.” I smiled. “You are quite the dancer.”
He laughed, shrugging a bit. “Guess so.” He pressed a kiss to my chest. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
I smiled, pushing my hand under his shirt, rubbing it in small circles along his lower back. “I have a question…” I asked softly, looking down at him.
He looked up chewing his lip softly. “Okay…” He said slowly.
“Move in with me?” I whispered, looking into his eyes.
“What?” He asked softly, looking up at me.
“I want you to move in with me. I want to be able to spend every bit of time I can with you. I want to wake up to you, and come home from work to you, and I want you to be the last thing I see before I go to bed. You don’t have to work anymore. You don’t have to keep doing this. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll give you everything you want.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate.
“I…I don’t know…what to say.” He said softly, chewing his lip. “I’d love that. I’d love to live with you. I want to be around as much as possible. But…I don’t want you to spoil me. I want to work.”
I nodded slowly, looking down at him. “I don’t want to keep sharing you with everyone else.” I said quietly, confessing the one thing I’d not yet told him.
He looked up at me, eyes wide. “This… is all…all I’ve ever known how to do. All that I’m good at.”
“Then you’ll go to school. You’ll find a small job on the side. When you were little what did you want to be?”
Patrick looked up at me, laughing a bit. “Peter pan.”
I grinned, kissing the tip of his nose. “Cute. Anything else?”
He thought for a moment. “A teacher?”
“I think you’d make a wonderful teacher baby.” I whispered. “You can go to school, and get your degree. You can do anything you want.”
He thought for a minute, looking up at me. “Will you let me pay you back? For tuition…I mean. When I have the money, can I pay you back?”
“If it will make you say yes, then yes.” I said softly.
“Then…yes.” He said softly, unable to control the grin that spread across his face.
The next week he put in his notice at The Lounge, and began packing up his apartment. I offered to hire movers, but he insisted that he wanted to do it himself. We made countless trips in my car boxes piled high in the back and in the trunk, slowly clearing his apartment out. One by one his things began popping up around my house. It was weird, how even though his things didn’t match the elaborate decorating scheme of my house they fit as though they’d always belonged there. We scrubbed down every inch of the apartment, repainted and finally, he moved into my house.
The first night, I let the maids and other hired help go early, wanting to have the house to ourselves. It started in the hot tub (the strategically aimed water jets were quite a hit), and promptly moved to the kitchen (ever since the chocolate, it seemed, Patrick had a bit of a food thing, and hey if you’ve ever seen a dripping wet naked Patrick bent over your table, you’d understand.), from there we moved to the living room (obviously the fireplace had a way of setting the mood), and finally we ended up in my bedroom, where we both collapsed onto the bed. There were a few hushed ‘love you’s before we both fell asleep.
The following morning he woke me up early. His eager “Come on...let’s go make breakfast!” was met with a groan of complaint. Somehow he managed to get me out of bed, and get me coherent enough to make pancakes (it might have been the blowjob), while he chopped the fruit that would ultimately go on top of the pancakes.
“So I was thinking…” He started, “…my first semester I could take the easy classes ya know. Just to get me back into the swing of things.” He’d been going on and on about going to college ever since he’d started looking into schools in the area. He found one that was close enough to commute to, and had sent in his application.
“That sounds good.” I smiled.
“And then after the first semester I can start taking some real education classes and…” I turned my back to him, flipping the pancakes, and taking them out of the pan before I noticed he’d stopped talking. Raising an eyebrow I looked over at him just in time to see him stumble a few times. He let go of the knife and I heard it clang against the counter before my brain registered that he was going to fall. I ran to his side, catching him in my arms as he passed out. I called his name a few times, heart starting to race, brain trying to work out what had happened. Healthy people don’t just collapse in the middle of the kitchen. When he didn’t wake up, I started to scream his name, heart pounding in my chest now. I laid him down on the floor and ran for the phone, frantically dialing 911, telling the operator what was happening. I stayed on the phone with her for the five minutes it took for an ambulance to arrive at my house. I let them in and they took over, attempting to wake Patrick back up.
Finally, they managed to bring him back to consciousness, but strapped him to a stretcher and insisted that he went to the emergency room to be checked out.
“Would you like to ride with him in the ambulance?” One of the paramedics asked.
“No…no I’ll take my car, so I can bring him home.” I say chewing my lip.
“I’m fine!” Patrick insisted, trying to sit up on the stretcher.
“I know baby…” I whispered softly to him. “…they just want to take you in for a few tests. I’ll be right behind you, and then I’ll be at your side the entire time. I won’t leave you.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He whispered back before the paramedics started to pull him away. I looked over at the stove, quickly turning it off before grabbing my shoes. I tugged them on, and grabbed my keys, making my way out to the garage as I pulled on a coat. I got in my car and got it started, racing down the street after the ambulance. I parked in the emergency parking lot, running into the waiting room along with the stretcher, watching as it disappeared behind two swinging doors. A nurse cut me off, telling me that unless I was a relative, I’d have to wait in the waiting room.
“No..you don’t understand..” I begged. “I promised him…I swore I’d be with him.”
“Are you a relative?” She asked.
“No..but..I’m the only family he has…he doesn’t have anyone else…” I pleaded.
“I’m sorry.” She said, cutting me off. “Policy is policy. A doctor should be out shortly.” With that she walked away and back to her spot behind the reception desk.
I stormed over to the waiting area, and fell into a chair, mind racing with fear, wondering what they were doing to him. Shortly, it turned out, was quite a long time. Four bags of chips, and three cups of coffee later, a doctor came out. He walked over to me and asked if I was the one with Patrick.
“Yes. Is he okay?” I asked looking up into his eyes, pleading silently with him.
”Well…I’m afraid I have some bad news.” He started, putting a hand on my arm as my legs threatened to give out under me. “Patrick has an advanced stage of leukemia. This is the second time it has shown up.”
”I…I don’t understand.” I whispered. “You’re wrong…you’ve got the wrong Patrick.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The leukemia first showed up about six years ago. He underwent both chemo and radiation treatments, and quite a few different bone marrow transplants. He responded positively to the treatment, and we thought he was cured. Unfortunately with this type of disease, if it shows up again, it is much more aggressive as it has built up a resistance to the treatment process. I’m afraid that this form is extremely fast paced, and while there are a few treatments we could try, the rate of survival would be under 30 percent.”
The news hit me like a brick. Patrick was sick. No, Patrick wasn’t sick, Patrick was dying. It couldn’t be happening. I was finally happy. Finally with the person I knew I was meant to be with. Everything was going so good, and now this. “H-how long…does he have?” I asked softly, looking up at him, tears starting to pool behind my eyes.
“That depends on the individual. Right now, anywhere from three weeks to three months.”
Three weeks? It was hardly enough time to say goodbye. How did you say goodbye to the love of your life anyway. “Can I see him?” I asked quietly, wiping at the tears rolling down my cheeks.
The doctor nodded silently and led me down a series of hallways, stopping outside of his room. I thanked him and walked in, fighting back a choked up sob as my eyes adjusted to the dim room, seeing Patrick hooked up to at least a dozen clicking and beeping machines. He was awake.
I walked over to him, looking down at him.
“Hey..” he said softly, looking at me.
“How do you feel?” I asked quietly.
“Tired.” He whispered, scooting over in the bed. “Lay with me?”
I crawled into the bed with him, curling up against his body. “What’s going to happen?” I whispered against his shoulder. “The doctor said there were options. Some sort of treatment.”
“There are…but I don’t think I want to do it.” He said softly. “They’ll be expensive, and I still have a debt from the last time.”
”I’ll pay for it.” I whispered. “I’ll pay any amount in the world to keep you with me.”
“I know you would.” He smiled slightly. “And I love you for that. But it’s not worth it baby. The treatments…they’re risky, and even with them, there’s a strong chance it won’t help. Plus they’ll make me sick and weak. And I don’t want that. I just want to be with you, for whatever time I have left. And I want to make the best of it.”
I was sobbing by this point, tears soaking quickly through the thin blanket. “I…I don’t…I don’t want to say goodbye.” I sniffled quietly.
“I know baby. I don’t either…but it’s what we have to do. You’ll be okay though. I know you will. If it’s okay with you, the doctor said I could go home tomorrow. We can arrange to have someone come by every day to check up on me. That way we can be at home instead of in here.”
I nodded, hugging him tighter. “I’d like that.” I said softly.
“Me too.” He smiled again before whispering. “Stay the night with me, okay?”
I nodded again, whispering. “I won’t ever leave you.” He rested his head back against the pillow, wrapping an arm around me before he drifted to sleep. The nurses came back every few hours, checking his stats, working around us. I didn’t sleep, simply watched him, trying to memorize the peaceful look on his face, knowing I’d only have a few short weeks, months at most, to do this.
Comments are love.
♥
Author:
raverbear64/fiction_on_firePairing: PatrickxPeter
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Peter has been instructed to write the story of his life. How he went from an amazing childhood, to a lonely man, to the happiest he'd ever been, to loosing it all again.
Dedication: To
trustlove_hope, simply because she's amazing.A/N: The next chapter will be the last. It is already written, and it will be up soon...within the next few days. Thanks to anyone who is still reading this and enjoying it :D
Previous Chapters: Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three//Chapter Four//Chapter Five//Chapter Six//Chapter Seven//Chapter Eight//Chapter Nine//
A few days after the club scene, I went back to the Lounge. As usual, I got my drink, paid my money and was given access to Patrick’s room. He smiled at me as I walked in, locking the door behind me.
“Hello beautiful.” I whispered, wrapping my arms around him as he walked towards me.
“Hi.” He said softly, sleepily.
I pulled him towards the bed, pushing him down and curling up against him. “You look tired.” I whispered, looking over his face, taking in the dark circles under his eyes.
“It’s just been a long night. And I didn’t sleep so well.” He yawned.
I pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Let’s just cuddle then, okay? Or you can take a nap and I’ll stay with you.”
“But you paid…” He protested.
”It doesn’t matter.” I said quietly against his ear. “I’d gladly pay millions to spend time with you.”
He gave me a tired smile before curling closer against me. “I had fun at the club the other night.”
”Me too.” I smiled. “You are quite the dancer.”
He laughed, shrugging a bit. “Guess so.” He pressed a kiss to my chest. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
I smiled, pushing my hand under his shirt, rubbing it in small circles along his lower back. “I have a question…” I asked softly, looking down at him.
He looked up chewing his lip softly. “Okay…” He said slowly.
“Move in with me?” I whispered, looking into his eyes.
“What?” He asked softly, looking up at me.
“I want you to move in with me. I want to be able to spend every bit of time I can with you. I want to wake up to you, and come home from work to you, and I want you to be the last thing I see before I go to bed. You don’t have to work anymore. You don’t have to keep doing this. I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll give you everything you want.” I didn’t mean for it to sound so desperate.
“I…I don’t know…what to say.” He said softly, chewing his lip. “I’d love that. I’d love to live with you. I want to be around as much as possible. But…I don’t want you to spoil me. I want to work.”
I nodded slowly, looking down at him. “I don’t want to keep sharing you with everyone else.” I said quietly, confessing the one thing I’d not yet told him.
He looked up at me, eyes wide. “This… is all…all I’ve ever known how to do. All that I’m good at.”
“Then you’ll go to school. You’ll find a small job on the side. When you were little what did you want to be?”
Patrick looked up at me, laughing a bit. “Peter pan.”
I grinned, kissing the tip of his nose. “Cute. Anything else?”
He thought for a moment. “A teacher?”
“I think you’d make a wonderful teacher baby.” I whispered. “You can go to school, and get your degree. You can do anything you want.”
He thought for a minute, looking up at me. “Will you let me pay you back? For tuition…I mean. When I have the money, can I pay you back?”
“If it will make you say yes, then yes.” I said softly.
“Then…yes.” He said softly, unable to control the grin that spread across his face.
The next week he put in his notice at The Lounge, and began packing up his apartment. I offered to hire movers, but he insisted that he wanted to do it himself. We made countless trips in my car boxes piled high in the back and in the trunk, slowly clearing his apartment out. One by one his things began popping up around my house. It was weird, how even though his things didn’t match the elaborate decorating scheme of my house they fit as though they’d always belonged there. We scrubbed down every inch of the apartment, repainted and finally, he moved into my house.
The first night, I let the maids and other hired help go early, wanting to have the house to ourselves. It started in the hot tub (the strategically aimed water jets were quite a hit), and promptly moved to the kitchen (ever since the chocolate, it seemed, Patrick had a bit of a food thing, and hey if you’ve ever seen a dripping wet naked Patrick bent over your table, you’d understand.), from there we moved to the living room (obviously the fireplace had a way of setting the mood), and finally we ended up in my bedroom, where we both collapsed onto the bed. There were a few hushed ‘love you’s before we both fell asleep.
The following morning he woke me up early. His eager “Come on...let’s go make breakfast!” was met with a groan of complaint. Somehow he managed to get me out of bed, and get me coherent enough to make pancakes (it might have been the blowjob), while he chopped the fruit that would ultimately go on top of the pancakes.
“So I was thinking…” He started, “…my first semester I could take the easy classes ya know. Just to get me back into the swing of things.” He’d been going on and on about going to college ever since he’d started looking into schools in the area. He found one that was close enough to commute to, and had sent in his application.
“That sounds good.” I smiled.
“And then after the first semester I can start taking some real education classes and…” I turned my back to him, flipping the pancakes, and taking them out of the pan before I noticed he’d stopped talking. Raising an eyebrow I looked over at him just in time to see him stumble a few times. He let go of the knife and I heard it clang against the counter before my brain registered that he was going to fall. I ran to his side, catching him in my arms as he passed out. I called his name a few times, heart starting to race, brain trying to work out what had happened. Healthy people don’t just collapse in the middle of the kitchen. When he didn’t wake up, I started to scream his name, heart pounding in my chest now. I laid him down on the floor and ran for the phone, frantically dialing 911, telling the operator what was happening. I stayed on the phone with her for the five minutes it took for an ambulance to arrive at my house. I let them in and they took over, attempting to wake Patrick back up.
Finally, they managed to bring him back to consciousness, but strapped him to a stretcher and insisted that he went to the emergency room to be checked out.
“Would you like to ride with him in the ambulance?” One of the paramedics asked.
“No…no I’ll take my car, so I can bring him home.” I say chewing my lip.
“I’m fine!” Patrick insisted, trying to sit up on the stretcher.
“I know baby…” I whispered softly to him. “…they just want to take you in for a few tests. I’ll be right behind you, and then I’ll be at your side the entire time. I won’t leave you.” I pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” He whispered back before the paramedics started to pull him away. I looked over at the stove, quickly turning it off before grabbing my shoes. I tugged them on, and grabbed my keys, making my way out to the garage as I pulled on a coat. I got in my car and got it started, racing down the street after the ambulance. I parked in the emergency parking lot, running into the waiting room along with the stretcher, watching as it disappeared behind two swinging doors. A nurse cut me off, telling me that unless I was a relative, I’d have to wait in the waiting room.
“No..you don’t understand..” I begged. “I promised him…I swore I’d be with him.”
“Are you a relative?” She asked.
“No..but..I’m the only family he has…he doesn’t have anyone else…” I pleaded.
“I’m sorry.” She said, cutting me off. “Policy is policy. A doctor should be out shortly.” With that she walked away and back to her spot behind the reception desk.
I stormed over to the waiting area, and fell into a chair, mind racing with fear, wondering what they were doing to him. Shortly, it turned out, was quite a long time. Four bags of chips, and three cups of coffee later, a doctor came out. He walked over to me and asked if I was the one with Patrick.
“Yes. Is he okay?” I asked looking up into his eyes, pleading silently with him.
”Well…I’m afraid I have some bad news.” He started, putting a hand on my arm as my legs threatened to give out under me. “Patrick has an advanced stage of leukemia. This is the second time it has shown up.”
”I…I don’t understand.” I whispered. “You’re wrong…you’ve got the wrong Patrick.”
He shook his head. “I’m afraid not. The leukemia first showed up about six years ago. He underwent both chemo and radiation treatments, and quite a few different bone marrow transplants. He responded positively to the treatment, and we thought he was cured. Unfortunately with this type of disease, if it shows up again, it is much more aggressive as it has built up a resistance to the treatment process. I’m afraid that this form is extremely fast paced, and while there are a few treatments we could try, the rate of survival would be under 30 percent.”
The news hit me like a brick. Patrick was sick. No, Patrick wasn’t sick, Patrick was dying. It couldn’t be happening. I was finally happy. Finally with the person I knew I was meant to be with. Everything was going so good, and now this. “H-how long…does he have?” I asked softly, looking up at him, tears starting to pool behind my eyes.
“That depends on the individual. Right now, anywhere from three weeks to three months.”
Three weeks? It was hardly enough time to say goodbye. How did you say goodbye to the love of your life anyway. “Can I see him?” I asked quietly, wiping at the tears rolling down my cheeks.
The doctor nodded silently and led me down a series of hallways, stopping outside of his room. I thanked him and walked in, fighting back a choked up sob as my eyes adjusted to the dim room, seeing Patrick hooked up to at least a dozen clicking and beeping machines. He was awake.
I walked over to him, looking down at him.
“Hey..” he said softly, looking at me.
“How do you feel?” I asked quietly.
“Tired.” He whispered, scooting over in the bed. “Lay with me?”
I crawled into the bed with him, curling up against his body. “What’s going to happen?” I whispered against his shoulder. “The doctor said there were options. Some sort of treatment.”
“There are…but I don’t think I want to do it.” He said softly. “They’ll be expensive, and I still have a debt from the last time.”
”I’ll pay for it.” I whispered. “I’ll pay any amount in the world to keep you with me.”
“I know you would.” He smiled slightly. “And I love you for that. But it’s not worth it baby. The treatments…they’re risky, and even with them, there’s a strong chance it won’t help. Plus they’ll make me sick and weak. And I don’t want that. I just want to be with you, for whatever time I have left. And I want to make the best of it.”
I was sobbing by this point, tears soaking quickly through the thin blanket. “I…I don’t…I don’t want to say goodbye.” I sniffled quietly.
“I know baby. I don’t either…but it’s what we have to do. You’ll be okay though. I know you will. If it’s okay with you, the doctor said I could go home tomorrow. We can arrange to have someone come by every day to check up on me. That way we can be at home instead of in here.”
I nodded, hugging him tighter. “I’d like that.” I said softly.
“Me too.” He smiled again before whispering. “Stay the night with me, okay?”
I nodded again, whispering. “I won’t ever leave you.” He rested his head back against the pillow, wrapping an arm around me before he drifted to sleep. The nurses came back every few hours, checking his stats, working around us. I didn’t sleep, simply watched him, trying to memorize the peaceful look on his face, knowing I’d only have a few short weeks, months at most, to do this.
Comments are love.
♥