Patrick was going to see William today. He was in his room, looking at himself in the mirror. Gray jeans, white T-shirt and red, plaid button up. With the buttons undone of course.

He slipped on his hat and glasses. Did that mess up the look? He felt like it messed up the look. But he didn't have contacts so... oh well.

"You look nice."

He didn't even turn around.

"Get out of my room, Pete."

But of course Pete did the opposite of what Patrick wanted. He stepped into the room. Patrick turned around then. He was wearing his usual suit. Minus the jacket. And the tie. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. And the buttons were undone on his shirt. Revealing those delicious tattoos.

Fucking YUM!

Patrick turned away before he could do something stupid. Like drool. Or fuck him.

"Are you going out with Brendon and Ryan today or something?"

"Stop talking to me."

"Can you be an adult for one minute?"

"No."

"Patrick," Pete grabbed his elbow to spin him around. "Talk to me."

"No." Patrick snatched his arm away from Pete. "You don't get to say and do hurtful shit. And then expect me to just automatically forgive you because you're over the argument."

"You're over it too." Pete grinned.

"No. I'm not."

"Yeah you are." He nudged him playfully.

"We screamed in each other's faces and then you went and very loudly fucked someone else." Patrick stared him in the eyes. Unblinking. "So no, I'm not over it."

'But I closed my eyes and pretended she was you.'

Pete wanted to tell Patrick. As if that would make everything better. But of course it wasn't going to. If anything, it'd make things worse. So he kept that little detail to himself.

"Then let me make it up to you." Pete suggested.

"No, Pete. I'm tired of playing this back and forth game with you. I'm over it."

"So you're not going to let me take you to lunch?" Pete pulled Patrick into the circle of his arms.

Patrick frowned, but didn't pull away. Pete smiled down at him. As if he'd won some big prize. Patrick hadn't even agreed to go with him.

"I have a date." Patrick dropped the bombshell proudly.

Pete's arms tightened around him. Dangerously so. Patrick tried to appear non bothered.

"You what?!"

"I have a date." He tried to pull away and failed. "With William."

"Cancel."

"No. I deserve to have someone, Pete."

"You have me-"

"Meagan has you. I have her sloppy seconds."

"Don't leave me."

The way Pete said the words made Patrick freeze. His angry bravado slowly drifting away. He'd said the three words with earnest. His eyes burning with sincere concern.

Patrick swallowed the lump that was beginning to form.

"Pete, I can't leave you." Pete buried his face in Patrick's neck. Sighing in consolation. But then Patrick continued. "I can't leave you because you already left me. A year ago."

Pete pulled away then. "Patrick-"

"You love her. You said it yourself. You've touched her. You've kissed her. You've held her. You're not just my Pete anymore. And I've never been good at sharing."

"I thought you loved me." Pete's tone was accusing now.

Patrick almost laughed. Almost, but not quite.

"I do. I love you very much. But I deserved to be loved too, Pete."

"I can do that."

Pete was practically begging now. Patrick didn't understand. It wasn't like he was going out to get hitched and leave Pete's life. He was going on one date. He wasn't even going to fuck the guy. He probably wouldn't kiss him either. But Pete was acting like it was the end of the world.

"Pete-"

"Nobody can love you the way I do, Patrick."

Patrick nearly hissed at the words. Those were the same words Andy used when trying to get him back. But Pete wasn't like Andy. Or was he?

Patrick didn't have time to mentally answer the question before Pete was dropping to his knees in front of him.

He signed gently when Pete rubbed his face against his zipper. His eyes closed quickly. Pete's lips brushed against his jeans. Patrick's head tilted back with a loud moan. He was always so loud. Pale fingers tangling themselves in Pete's dark hair.

But then he yanked Pete's head back. Away from his crotch. Pete's dark eyes stared up into his. A thrill went through Patrick. He liked this position. He liked seeing Pete on his knees. Begging. Needy. That was new.

"No, Pete." He crouched down to his level. "No one can fuck me the way you do. That's what you meant, isn't it?"

"No-"

"Yes." He nodded. "Because you can't love two people at once. And you obviously love her." Patrick stood up. Brushing nonexistent lint from his pants. "Don't wait up."

Pete watched him walk out the room door. It took a few seconds for him to gain his composure. But when he did, he stood up and raced after him.

He didn't catch up to him until he was in the lobby. Patrick was digging in his pocket. Probably checking for his wallet or that new phone he'd bought. He must have not heard Pete approaching him.

His eyes widened when Pete pushed his back against the front door. His hands dropped to his sides. Pete grabbed his chin in his hand. Pushing up against it gently. Preventing Patrick from moving his jaw freely.

"Patrick, if you go on a date with that man. I will find you. And I will break his fucking neck." His voice was low. Steady. Calm.

"Why not both of our necks?" His words were barely intelligible.

Pete's mouth quirked downwards.

"Because you know I can't hurt you."

"Please." He scoffed.

"Physically." Pete specified.

"Have you had your cocktail?" Patrick mocked. "You're seeming a bit on the bipolar side."

"Do not tempt me-" Pete warned. He actually hadn't had it in two days.

"Patrick?" Pete pulled away at the sound of Brendon's voice.

He was walking out of the kitchen with a stick of what appeared to be chocolate chip cookie dough in his hand. If it were anyone else, Patrick would have thought he was about to bake cookies. But because he was Brendon, Patrick knew that wasn't true.

He glanced down at the stick of dough. There were large bite marks in it. Of course. Only Brendon would be eating a stick of uncooked chocolate chip cookie dough.

"I was just about to leave." Patrick told Brendon. Glancing at Pete quickly to gauge his reaction.

"On that date you told me about?"

"Yeah. Don't wait up." He winked. Opening the door.

"Slut." Brendon called through a mouthful of his 'food'.

"The pot and the kettle, Bren. The pot and the kettle."

The door closed quietly behind him. Brendon's expression hardened.

"Try that again, Wentz, and I will personally chop your fucking balls off and bake them into a cookie."

"Try what?" Pete said innocently.

"You know exactly-"

"Babe!" Meagan's voice called. Saving Pete's ass. Well his balls, technically.

"Sorry, my wife is calling." Pete began heading to the stairs.

"Peeeete!" She called louder.

"Shut up!" Brendon yelled out to her at the top of the stairs. "Your voice is so fucking annoying!"

"Brendon!" Ryan poked his head out from the kitchen. "We talked about that!"

"About what?" He asked, walking up to him.

"You being nice to her."

"Yeah. And I said no."

Ryan shook his head at his fiance.

"Give me that." Ryan took the stick from his hands. "Stop being rude."

"Hey!" Brendon reached for it back. But Ryan held it above his head. "Its not my fault she's a conniving, annoying bitch." He muttered.