The Emo Mafia

•Man, were they fucked•

A/N: super short chapter
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Patrick had a problem. 

He was stuck in the middle of two things he really wanted. First off, he wanted his job, needed his job for obvious reasons. It paid the bills, It bought him food, it put gas in his car, it kept him alive.

But then again, he also wanted Pete. As much as he still hated to admit that, he liked the cocky bastard. There was something about him that just made his heart race and his face heat up. Maybe it was that stupid grin of his and the way it practically split his face in half. Or maybe those whiskey eyes and how they seemed to light up every time Patrick was around. Or maybe it was that big soft spot Pete had for the younger man, how he'd pretty much do anything for Patrick. How lovestruck he looked when Patrick said he wanted him the other night. He knew Pete was a criminal who hurt and even killed people, but he was so much more than that. 

Everything Pete did was somewhat brutal and intimidating, but the second Patrick was in his sight he was instantly someone else. He became this smiley doofus whenever Patrick so much as glanced his way. And in some way, shape, or form, Pete was always touching him or close to him. Patrick found a lot of the things that Pete did to be endearing. Yeah, he came off as a jerk at times but...he was Patrick's jerk.

Patrick groaned and flopped back onto his bed. This was a tough decision. Picking one could cause him to lose the other.

He could keep his job and his home and everything he needs to live, but probably lose Pete. Or he could go after Pete and lose everything he's worked for. He could always get another job, well actually no he couldn't. Not another government job if anyone ever found out about his association with Pete and the things he's witnessed. The shooting, the double homicide, the kidnapping. He'd be in prison if anyone found out.

So he couldn't get another job, and he couldn't get another Pete. Keeping both would be impossible, he had to choose.

Man, was Patrick fucked.

***

Pete hadn't spoken to Patrick since Joe and Gabe literally dumped Josh in a dumpster behind some restaurant ten miles outside of Chicago. Pete had kissed Patrick goodbye that day, after Patrick agreed to help him. But that was nearly five days ago.

Now Pete sat in his home office (he called it his office but really it was just a guest bedroom with a desk in it) thinking of ways to bring Blurryface down. He has a few ideas but all of them ended in a gunfight, which he wanted to avoid but it seemed unlikely. He'd be sure to lose some of his men and Pete doesn't know what he'd do if that ever happened. But he didn't have much of a choice. Some people were going to be shot down.

He sighed and dropped his head down onto his folded arms upon the desk.

Man, was Pete fucked.