Lets Not And Say We Did

Seventeen

"I almost kissed him!"

Patrick was pacing back and forth in his room. As soon as he and Pete got interrupted from that photographer, Pete called Jefferson to come pick them up. Not even talking to Patrick on the ride home. Now that he was back in the house he was freaking out. And Ryan was sitting on Patrick's bed watching it happen.

"You what?"

"I almost kissed him!" He repeated.

"Who? What? When? Where? How? Why?"

"Pete! And you know what. After the interview in the park. We were talking about painting and I was touching his face. And he was being so nice. And he was so close. And he smelled so good. And those lips! Ugh! Do you have any idea how soft his lips look?"

"Yeah." Ryan sighed dreamily. Smiling slightly. "I do."

"Excuse me?" Patrick stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips. Glaring at Ryan.

"What? You don't own him." Ryan said jokingly.

"Ry, This is serious!"

"I know. I know." He raised both of his hands up, palms forward. "I'm sorry."

"I'm just so confused." Patrick threw himself onto the bed face first. Ryan laid on his back beside him.

"So, did you want to kiss him?"

"Yes." Patrick muttered into the blankets.

"I thought you guys hated each other."

"We did. But not anymore. I mean, at least I don't hate him."

"Just this morning you were at each other's throats. A few hours later and you're at each other's mouths?"

"Its not funny, Ryan!" Patrick whined.

"Sorry. Sorry. And I meant to ask this before, but what in the actual fuck are you wearing?"

Patrick turned his head so he could glare at Ryan. "Clothes."

"Yeah, whose clothes?"

"Mine."

"That's not what I dressed you in-"

"I can dress myself."

"Apparently not." Ryan scoffed.

"Pete said he liked it." Patrick muttered too low for Ryan to hear

"Come again?"

"Pete said he liked my outfit."

"He complimented you?" Ryan sat up quickly.

"Yeah." Patrick flipped over on his back. "So?"

"So? Pete doesn't just throw around random compliments. Especially one that is clearly not true-"

"Hey!"

Ryan shrugged. "It just doesn't mix well." He stood up. "I have to go"

"Ryan!" Patrick yelled after him as he walked out. "I wasn't done!"

Ryan practically ran to the other side of the house. He stopped outside of Pete's office. Swinging the door open with out knocking. But the office was empty. He must be in his room. He jogged a few doors down. The bedroom door was open and Pete was pacing back and forth just like Patrick.

"Pete?"

"Ryan! Where the hell were you?!"

"I was just, um talking to Patrick." He pointed his thumb behind him.

"What did he say?" The words rushed from Pete's mouth.

"Just talking about his art and stuff." Ryan lied easily. "What's up?"

"What's up? I'll tell you what's up-"

"That's why I asked." Ryan muttered.

"Shut up."

"Sorry." He was kind of tired of saying sorry now. "I was just trying to light-"

"We almost kissed."

"You what?!" Ryan tried for the same reaction he gave Patrick.

"I-we were walking in the park-"

"Why?"

"Because he'd asked to go walking yesterday but he was drunk. And it was so nice out today. So I figured why not be nice and just go-"

"But you're not nice. You're probably under the antonyms for it in the dictionary." Pete glared at him. "See?" His glare deepened. "Sorry. Go on."

"Well we were sitting on the bench talkng about painting my portrait-"

"I knew you liked his paintings-"

"Holy shit! Will you just shut the fuck up, Ry?!"

"Calm down there, tiger. Have you not had your coffee this morning?"

"Oh shut-"

"What about your morning cocktail?"

"Will you stop calling it that?"

"Did you though?"

"Yes. Shut up." He sat down on the bed. Burying his head in his hands.

"It's okay."

Ryan sat down on the bed beside his best friend. He rubbed comforting circles on his shoulder blades. And then his back. Mid-back. Lower back. Even lower back. Pete jumped.

"Hey!" He glared at Ryan. But Ryan knew Pete too well to think he was actually mad.

"Can't blame a guy for trying." He shrugged.

"Yes, I can." Pete glared for a few more seconds before he laughed sadly. "I am freaking out, Ry."

"Did you want him to kiss you?"

"No! Of course not. I mean, I'm not gay. So no. Though kissing isn't that big of a deal really. And it wouldn't have been the worst thing that could have happened in that moment." He glanced over at Ryan, who was smirking at him knowingly. "What?"

"Maybe you're bisexual?" He offered.

"No."

"But-"

"No."

"Pete!"

"No. Okay? It was just an almost kiss."

"So you didn't want to kiss him?"

"Yeah." Pete glanced at him. "I did."

Ryan smiled triumphantly. "Maybe you're just gay above the waist."

"What?"

"You like to kiss boys and fuck girls."

Pete stared at him intensely. Mulling over the suggestion. "Yeah, maybe."

"See? That isn't so bad." He rubbed his knee. "Do you want me to stay and help you cope?"

Pete shook his head. "I want you to change out of those ridiculous clothes." He laughed.

Ryan feigned offense. "This is fashion!"

"No. That is some forty year old soccor mom's work our clothes."

"Fuck you dude." Ryan stood up. But before he left the room, he turned back. "Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"I was lying about Patrick." Pete met his eyes with confusion. "He's freaking out to. He thinks he may like you."