"Let's make a toast!" Patrick lifted his wine glass up happily.

The lazy smile on his face was the tale tale sign of alcohol consumption. At least he'd eaten half of his breakfast before entering the one man race to the bottom of the bottle. He was less likely to get sick now. Not that Patrick ever did get sick from drinking. He was a drinking professional.

"People don't usually toast over breakfast." Ryan said cautiously. Like he was afraid of hurting his feelings.

"That's because they're usually eating toast." Pete murmured.

Patrick only glared at him for a second before his smile returned.

"You're so funny, husband."

"Regular comedian." Brendon sipped from his glass.

"Right!" Patrick agreed with a satisfied nod. He tipped his glass back, finishing it off. The toast he'd wanted to make was already forgotten. "This is good wine."

"It should be. It was the most expensive bottle on the menu."

"Which is never a problem for you because you're like my sugar daddy. You're the rich man and I'm the pretty woman."

"Okay. You're done."

Pete reached over and grabbed the neck of the bottle. Taking it off the table and handing it to the first staff member he saw walk past. Of course the person took it without question.

"Hey! I was drinking that."

"You're drunk enough."

"No such thing."

"Yes." Ryan stared at him disbelievingly. "Yes there is a such thing as being too drunk. And it usually ends in death."

"There is also a such thing as minding your own beeswax, Ryan." He shot back childishly.

"Patrick, Ryan is right."

"You're just saying that because he likes you." Patrick waved the empty glass in his hand as he spoke.

"Look what you did." Ryan told Brendon. "You've gotten him fixated on your stupid suspicious."

"Stupid?" Brendon scoffed. "You're stupid."

"Who's more important to you?" Pete chimed in.

"What?"

"Who's more important to you? Ryan or Patrick?"

The table went silent as the other men waited for an answer. Pete was staring at him with a blank expression. Ryan looked smug. Like he'd beaten him at his own game. Patrick seemed genuinely interested in the answer.

"I guess that depends on if I'm more important to Patrick than Pete is."

"Not answering that one." Patrick placed his glass down and stood up from the table. "I'm going to the bathroom. And when I get back, I want my glass full."

No one responded so he headed to the bathroom. He didn't even have to use it. He just wanted to get the hell away from that question.

He opened the bathroom door and smiled when he saw it was empty. He didn't feel like making awkward small talk with someone he didn't know.

His phone vibrated in his pocket. As if whoever was texting him knew he was alone now. He didn't bother to check it. It was most likely William anyway. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to him, it was just that he could be a bit . . . clingy.

"Patrick."

He spun around to face the voice. Cringing when he saw Andy standing there. His previously intoxicated state vanished as the fear entered. He automatically backed up. Bumping into the sink but being too afraid to move away from it.

"W-Why are you here?"

Andy frowned. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I have to go-"

"Wait." He rushed to stand in front of him. Blocking any escape he had planned. "I need to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"You have to stop seeing Pete."

"No."

"I'm serious, Patrick. You're going to get hurt."

"Pete would never hurt me the way you hurt me. H-He loves me."

"I'm not talking about emotionally, Patrick. Physically! You're going to be physically hurt!"

His eyes widened. "A-Are you threatening me?"

"I- what? No." He shook his head in annoyed confusion. "Listen, Pat, just stop seeing him. Leave with me right now. I'll keep you safe."

"Keep me safe?" He repeated. A frightened look overtaking his already twisted expression. "You're the one who almost killed me."

"Pat-"

"You messed with the inside of the car. You're the reason for the accident."

"Don't you think I'd be in jail if that were true?"

"No. The evidence was destrouted when our car was wrapped around another car!"

"This isn't about that right now. You need to leave."

"Andy, I don't want to be with you anymore. You got away with what you did. Why can't you just leave me alone?" Tears sprang to his eyes.

"I'm trying to help-"

"I don't need your help! Pete won't hurt me. Not emotionally. Not physically-"

"I'm not talking about Pete, you fucking idiot!" He snapped.

"Please let me leave."

"I'm not the danger right now, Patrick."

"I want Pete." He whimpered like a child lost in the grocery store.

"Wanting Pete is going to get you killed. Just like it almost did last time!" He growled. His face inches away from Patrick's.

Patrick could feel himself starting to shake. He didn't want to be so afraid. But who the hell could help it? This was the man who was most likely responsible for him losing two years of his life. And now he was practically threatening to kill him if he didn't leave Pete for him.

"Wanting Pete didn't almost kill me. You did!" His voice cracked horribly.

"I made a jealous mistake. I'm trying to fix that. Just stay the fuck away from Pete or you'll get hurt."

That was the final straw. Hearing Andy practically admit to being the one who tampered with the car. Patrick knew he was the most obvious suspect. But a part of him didn't want to believe that someone he'd loved for so much of his life could do something like that.

"PETE!" Patrick screamed the name at the top of his lungs. So loud that it burned his throat almost as much as the alcohol.

Andy's eyes widened. "What the hell are you-"

"PETE!" He yelled even louder. His body vibrated with the volume.

"You fucking moron." Andy began backing away quickly. He opened the door and rushed out without looking back.

Seconds later the door opened again. Revealing a horrified Pete. Relief filled Patrick at the sight of him. He rushed over and grabbed the shaking, little man into his arms. Patrick finally allowed himself to completely break down. Pete rubbed his back soothingly and kissed his forehead frantically. Ignoring the traces of sweat that were now there. Brendon and Ryan watched from the doorway.

"What's wrong, baby? What happened?" He asked once Patrick calmed down a little.

"An-Andy."

"Andy?" Pete asked confused. "Did you have a bad flashback-"

"He was he-here. He came in here. He's going to hurt me."

"He was here?" Pete snarled. He turned to the door. "Find him."

Ryan nodded and rushed back out. Brendon followed him.

"I'm scared."

"He won't hurt you." Pete tightened his arms around him. "But I will hurt him."

"He messed with the car. He said he's going to hurt me if I stay with you." He was becoming hysterical again.

"Shh." Pete kissed his head. "No one is going to hurt you."

"Do you promise?"

His watering eyes stared up into Pete's angry ones. The pleading look in them was enough to break him. But he had to stay strong. If he broke down now, Patrick's sense of security would too.

So he squared his shoulders. His gaze intensifying. "Yes."