I Do I Did

Twelve

"Did you really need four pair of the same black jeans?" Pete groaned.

He was helping Patrick unpack his bags after shopping most of the day. Ryan was sorting the clothes by color in the closet. And Brendon said he was helping. But he'd been sitting in the same spot since they came in.

"I like black jeans." Patrick shrugged.

"You bought them because William liked them." Brendon smirked.

Pete's hand froze in the bag. "Who?"

"Nobody. Some store clerk." Patrick said quickly. Giving Brendon a look that clearly meant shut the fuck up.

But of course Brendon ignored it.

"He's a hot guy that works at the boutique." Brendon muttered. "He chose most of these clothes."

"Oh, really?" Pete raised an eyebrow. Frowning disapprovingly.

"Yup!" Brendon continued. "He had the biggest crush on Patrick."

Now even Ryan was giving Brendon a look. Trying to tell him to stop talking. Pete was clearly getting more and more angry with each word.

"That's... cute." Pete muttered. Fishing a shirt out of the bag.

"Cute? I don't think cute is what William had in mind when he was helping Patrick into his-"

"Oh my god, Brendon. Shut the fuck up!" Patrick snapped.

"No. Please continue, Brendon." Pete told him. "Helping him into what?"

"It's none of your business what he did or said to me." Patrick argued.

"Since when is what happens to you not my business?" Pete threw the shirt in his hand on the floor.

"Since you married her!" He pointed to nowhere in particular.

"Brendon." Ryan came slowly out of the closet. "We should probably go."

"Actually, I want to hear-"

"Brendon!"

"Fine. Fine." He stood up and followed Ryan out the door. "Can you hear them from your room?" He whispered.

Ryan just rolled his eyes.

"We are not having this discussion again." Pete turned to walk out after them.

Patrick rushed over and grabbed his arm. Spinning him around to face him. Pete stared at him in surprise.

"Well, I want to have it!"

"I don't care what you want!"

"Clearly." Patrick's voice was lower. Pete's expression softened.

"Pat-"

"Clearly you don't care what I want. Because you don't care about me. You never cared about me!"

"H-How can you say that?" Pete grimaced. "You know I cared-"

"Then you would have stayed."

"Is this what every argument is going to come to?" Pete clicked his tongue in annoyance. Backing away.

Patrick grabbed the front of his shirt in his hands. Pulling him back to stand directly in front of him.

"Yes, this is what every argument is going to come to. Because we wouldn't even be arguing if you would have-"

"I couldn't have stayed! I explained to you-"

"It's bullshit!" Patrick was yelling again. "Your explanation is bullshit because I would have stayed. I would have sat by your side for years. I would have held you for years. I would have gone crazy for years just to stay with you in the hospital!"

Patrick could feel the wetness filling his eyes. He was so sensitive lately. He didn't want to cry. He didn't want to be sad. He wanted to be angry.

"Easier said than done."

"Because I love you too much to have done anything else." Pete just stared. Unsure of what to say. "Do you remember when you told me that real love doesn't go away in just a few days, weeks or even years?"

Pete racked his brain for the quote. Trying to remember when he told him that. And then it clicked. The proposal. That felt like forever ago.

"Yes."

"Well, your love must have been fake."

"No. No." Pete shook his head. "That's not true. My love for you didn't just go away!"

"Of course it did."

"No!" He snapped. "It didn't."

"Yes. It. Did." Patrick let go of his shirt. "BECAUSE YOU DON'T GO MARRY SOMEONE ELSE WHEN YOU FUCKING LOVE SOMEBODY!"

"It didn't happen like that." Pete sighed. "I wish you would just understand."

"There's nothing to understand."

"Yes there is. Patrick, I don't do well on my own."

"What?"

"You know I have... Issues. But even when I take my pills, loneliness depresses me. I can't deal with it."

"You weren't alone!"

"I WAS ALONE!" He screamed. Patrick flinched. "I was alone because you left me alone. You wouldn't wake up!"

"I couldn't wake up." He corrected. "I fucking tried! I heard you sometimes. I heard you talk to me. I heard you cry-"

"Then why didn't you love me enough to try harder?"

"There was nothing I could fucking do! Don't you try to turn this all on me. You gave up on me."

"Don't. Keep. Saying. That."

"Why not? It's true. Maybe you were being honest before."

"What the hell are you talking-"

"Maybe you only wanted me for sex."

"Damnit, Patrick!" Pete slammed his fist against the wall. Centimeters from Patrick's face. But Patrick didn't even flinch.

Frustration bubbled inside of Pete. He was shaking from it. Patrick stared up at him with dull eyes. Pete glared back. He needed to release this tension.

He leaned down to kiss Patrick. But his lips brushed against Patrick's check as Patrick turned his face away. Pete leaned in again and again Patrick turned. This time using his finger to push Pete's face back.

"Don't you have a wife for that?"

Patrick regretted the words as soon as he said it. But he wasn't going to take them back. He couldn't. It would be like trying to put toothpaste back into the tube after squeezing it out.

Pete drew back as if he'd been struck. A disgusted look in his eyes. But he wasn't sure why. Patrick was right. He did have a wife for that. He'd just much rather do it with his husband. Husband. Was Patrick even his husband anymore?

"You know what? You're right!"

"Pete-"

Patrick reached for him. Pete snatched his arms back. Quickly rushing out of the room. He stormed down the hall. Getting to the other side of the house in record time.

He slammed his bedroom door open. Meagan was sitting on the bed watching television. She smiled when Pete walked in.

"Hey, babe."

"Get undressed."

"What?" Her smile wavered.

"Get. Undressed." He repeated.

"W-Why?"

"Because I want to fuck you."

"I- O-Okay." She stood and began undoing her jeans.

"Get on your hands and knees on the bed."

"Pete, are you okay-"

"Shh!" His tone was brusque.

He didn't want to hear her talk. He didn't even want to see her face. He didn't want to be able to tell he was fucking a girl. He wanted to pretend she was Patrick.