Lets Not And Say We Did

Forty Seven

"I'm just going to go take these to, Patrick." Pete says as he takes the opposite staircase from Ryan.

"You know how bad you're going to make me look with Brendon? Since when do you buy random flowers?"

"Since I'm dating someone who deserves random flowers." He grinned.

"Uh huh." Ryan raised an eyebrow. "I think you looooove him."

"Shut up, Ry."

But Pete smiled. Because, no, he didn't quite love Patrick yet. His cold heart wasn't prepared to. But maybe he could. And maybe he was getting pretty damn close.

"Pete and Patrick sitting in a tree. L-O-V-I-N-G." He frowned. "Damn, that didn't come out right. I think I'm a letter short or something."

"Ryan and Brendon sitting in a tree. N-O-T-H-I-N-G."

"Fuck you, Wentz!" Ryan yelled as Pete raced up the steps to Patrick's room.

Pete was excited. It didn't make sense. He'd just seen Patrick a couple of hours ago. But he missed him as if he hadn't seen him in years. Was that normal? What did that even mean?

He bet he looked good. Patrick always looked good. Even when he first woke up. He looked like an angel. Just like Ryan said. Funny, the man everyone in business calls Satan, gets to be loved by an angel.

Because Patrick was an angel. He was even named after a saint. And maybe Pete could love that special, little man sooner than he thought possible. Because Patrick was pure. And Patrick was kind. And Patrick was... Kissing Andy?

Pete stood there. He stood there and just watched his boyfriend kiss his ex. He was crying and Andy was holding him. But Patrick didn't look as if he minded. And then he pulled away. So suddenly that it shocked Pete. He rushed towards the door and paused. So, he finally noticed him.

Pete looked at Patrick's face. It was flushed and tear streaked. He looked afraid? Pete felt his heart twist but he quickly reacted. Shutting himself down emotionally like he'd taught himself to do so many years ago.

Andy stared at him wearing a cocky expression. Or maybe that was just the way his face looked. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. Because Pete didn't feel anything.

"P-Pete-" Patrick stammered.

"These are for you." He pushed the roses into Patrick's arms with more force than necessary. Patrick grabbed them.

"T-Thank you."

He looked worried. Like he was wondering what Pete was going to say or do next. But Pete didn't even know what he was going to do himself. And he didn't care.

He turned to face the little ginger watching them. "Leave." That was as much as he ever wanted to say to the man.

"Patrick-" Andy reached for Patrick's arm and Patrick moved away from him.

"Don't. Touch. Him." Pete grounded out each syllable separately.

And suddenly Pete couldn't remember if he'd had his morning cocktail earlier. He was seething. Seeing red. Because he did care. He cared that the man he trusted was kissing someone else. And that, that someone else was standing in front of him. Trying to touch him.

He was going to kill him. Maybe even both of them. How much time would he do for a double murder?

"Listen, Wentz." He said his name sourly. "I can touch whoever I want. You aren't my boss." He reached for Patrick again. "Baby, aren't you coming with me?" This time his hand glazed Patrick's arm.