(Patrick's POV)

My phone was resting on the arm of the couch. I kept glancing at it every two minutes. Waiting for it to light up with a notification from Pete. A text. A call. FaceTime. Email. Anything. But nothing came.

So I continued typing away on my laptop with Brendon at my side doing the same. It was either work or go into a depressive state of overthinking. And of course the latter was off the table. I'd been doing so well for the last few days. I couldn't let one little fight send me two steps back.

Pete was probably just busy with Tyler. I knew he wasn't with Ryan any more. Because Ryan told Brendon he'd gone back to work after lunch. I felt way more comfortable picturing him with Tyler than I did with Ryan. I knew Pete wouldn't fuck up like that again, but sometimes flashbacks of the past made me nervous.

I knew I wasn't a saint either. That's why I would never persecute him for his old infidelities. I had no room to accuse. I wasn't immune to my own errors. I'd hurt Pete. For months I played between him and my wife. Slipping Brendon in a time or two just for the good measures of being an extra shitty person.

But now that was done. I'd grown in our months apart. Thinking the love of your life is dead could really do that to a person. God gave me a second chance with Pete and I wasn't going to waste it being a -for lack of a better word- whore.

So we had a fight. No, not a fight. More of a disagreement. He ditched me for lunch and instead went with a man who was probably still in love with him. A man he slept with an uncountable amount of times. A man who's sole purpose in life seemed to be destroying any relationship I had with Pete. Cool. No big deal. They were friends. Friends had lunch all the time. Brendon and I had lunch. It was no big deal!

It was the exact same thing. Two best friend. Former lovers. Sharing the completely platonic experiencing of eating a meal together. And if Brendon and I could do it then Pete and Ryan should be able to do it. I was such a hypocrite sometimes and never even noticed it. I didn't even think about Brendon in that way anymore. So who was I to say that Pete felt the same way about Ryan?

We shouldn't be expected to give up years of friendship because we fucked them. I snuck a glance at Brendon. He was too invested in his work to notice me looking. I tried to picture my life without him and frowned.

I needed him in my life. And it had nothing to do with sex. Even though as my gaze shifted to his lower half, I couldn't help but notice how his hips were made for sex. I'd never seen a guy with those kind of hips and that kind of ass. And his thighs were so toned. Not from exercise like Pete's. I think his were just naturally thick.

I snapped my gaze, and thoughts, away from Brendon's body. Focusing instead on his face again. On that jawline. On those lips. Bad idea. Super bad idea. Even his face seemed like it was made for sex. Bedroom eyes. Plump, soft lips. Lips that I could recall doing amazing things and-

WHAT THE FUCK WAS MY PROBLEM?

Why the hell was I looking at Brendon like this? Why the hell was I thinking these things? When's the last time I jerked off? Was it Sunday? No, because Pete was there Sunday and I fell asleep when he left. It could have been Friday. No it couldn't. And as I continued to rack my brain, I realized it was over two weeks ago. That's why I was looking at Brendon like that. My body must be frustrated. And the frustration had only doubled since Pete returned. I never didn't want to fuck that man's brains about. And having him so close again, kissing him, holding him, touching him and not being able to sleep with him must be driving my brain into sexual overdrive.

"Why the hell are you looking at me like that?" Brendon asked.

I snapped out of my embarrassing thoughts and realized I was still staring at my best friend like I wanted to devour him.

I cleared my throat. Shaking my head and turning to look at my computer screen. "I was thinking."

"I'm afraid to ask what about." He teased.

I forced a laugh. "Just work stuff." My fingers tapped against the keys harder than usual. I didn't even know what I was typing anymore.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course. Why would you ask that?"

"Because you just typed a bunch of random numbers into the medicine excel chart."

I stopped typing. "Oh."

"Hey." Brendon pushed down on the back of my laptop gently. Almost closing it. Forcing me to pull my hands away from it. "Talk to me." When I didn't began speaking he pulled my chin towards him. "Talk to me."

"I was just thinking about Pete." It wasn't a complete lie.

"He was a jerk today." He grabbed the laptop from me. Sitting it on the coffee table. "He shouldn't have called in Ryan for lunch after he knew you wanted to eat with him." He sat his own beside mine.

"He was right though. We didn't know how long we'd be."

"So he couldn't even wait twenty minutes?" It was nice to know Brendon was on my side here. "You're allowed to be bothered by things he does. Just because you missed him, just because you thought you'd lost him, doesn't mean everything he does is okay."

"Thank you for always being there, Bren."

"Where the hell else am I going to go? You literally my boss and my best friend. You're basically my entire life. Well except boyfriend. But you've got two of the three Bs so, ya know." He laughed.

"I think I would go insane if I didn't have you here."

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leaned in closer to me. Incredibly close. His nose just a couple of inches from mine. His lips. Those lips. Just a lean away. "I went insane a long time ago. You just keep me from snapping." He laughed again. His warm breath dancing around my face.

Common sense left me as I covered his lips with my own. He froze under my advance. But only for a second before he jerked his head backwards.

"I-uh..." Good explanation, Patrick.

"Patrick, what the actual fuck? What was that? I-I don't know what to do here. I don't know what you want me to say. I- what the fuck?" He was speaking so quickly and quietly. 

"I-I don't know." Truth. "I'm sorry. I was just thinking."

"About Pete?" He repeated what I said earlier. "And it led you to that?"

"I'm sorry, okay? I don't know what else to say. I don't know what came over me."

"Good choice of words." He noted. I blushed. "We can't do that.You understand that, right? You have Pete back. I have Ryan. We're not those people anymore. We're good people."

"I know. I know." I'd literally just been telling myself the same thing.

"And good people don't cheat on their boyfriends."

"I know!"

"We're good people." He was starting to sound like a fucking broken record now. "We're good people, right?"

"Of course we are." I pinched the bridge of my nose. Closing my eyes.

"Patrick."

"What?"

"I don't think we're good people."

"Wha-"

Before my eyes were fully open, he was on me. His plush lips drowning mine. His hands holding a death grip on my shoulders. Keeping me in place. My hands rushed to his hips. Yanking him over me. Tangling our legs awkwardly on he couch. His hands slid down my arms. Jumping to my waist. His cool fingers slipped under my shirt before I could stop him.

His smooth fingertips glided over the rough marks on my skin. I flinched when he encountered the sensitive skin of the ones not yet healed. His wide eyes saddened when he lifted my shirt. I looked above my head. Refusing to make eye contact.

"Oh baby," His voice was sad. "You're broken." His head ducked away from mine. Lowering his face to my abdomen. Grazing his nose against my stomach in a line down to the button of my pants. "You won't remember that when I'm done with you."

I groaned at the promise in his words. Covering my face with both my hands to hide the excitement bubbling inside of me. Well, the excitement on my face at least. With the sound of blood rushing through my ears I couldn't hear the click of the front door opening. Brendon did though.

He jackrabbited into a straight sitting position. His sudden pull back made my eyes snap open. I saw the guilty look he was stuck in and knew I was fucked beyond belief. I yanked my shirt down before sitting up and facing the door.

Young Tyler Joseph stood there. Completely expressionless. I felt Brendon moving beside me but I couldn't look his way. And then he was beside Tyler. His laptop and jacket in his hands. Disheveled wasn't the world I was looking for. He looked so much more than that.

"I was just going." He told Tyler. "I-I shit. Just please don't. Shit. I'm leaving."

He dashed from the house. Leaving me alone with Pete's little side kick. Great.

"W-What are you doing here?"

"What were you doing here?"

"Tyler-"

"I didn't want to go back to the hotel. And you're the only person whose address I knew."

"So you walk into my house?"

"I didn't think you'd let me in if I knocked and said who I was." Smart man. He was probably right. "But now I think I'll just head home. Well, to the hotel."

"Tyler, wait!" I jumped up from the couch.

"What you and Pete do is none of my business." What the hell did he mean by that? "Goodnight, Patrick."