Admire

Seven

Patrick practically sprinted off the stage and- shit- he was puking. He couldn't help it, he didn't expect Pete to actually be here. He wiped the vomit taste from his lips and tried to clear his thoughts before going back in, but of course, once he did, the first thing he saw was Pete. They stood, just staring at eachother. Patrick couldn't help but wonder if Pete knew who he was. He was about to speak, about to approach Pete, really, he was, before he was suddenly gone. Patrick blinked, rushing out after him, camera around neck.
He stood on the patio of the bar and watched Pete walk into the rain and sighed. Pete turned around, briefly looking back and patrick couldn't help it. He pulled the camera to his face and snap, perfect.

It was his favorite shot of Pete so far. The glint of apology and regret that flickered in his eyes as he looked back, as he looked back at Patrick- well, not at him, but towards him. Two very different things, Patrick thought.

****

Patrick couldn't help but feel guilty when Brendon stormed inside and threw his keys on the counter.

"Brendon I'm sorry-"

"I just don't understand why you have to be so damn weird all the time, Patrick. And now thanks to you and you're fucking stalkerness, Ryan and Gerard didn't get to hear me sing, think you're a total creep, and probably don't want to hang out with me anymore."

Patrick stood silently. He did feel bad, really. When he left he insisted Brendon come with him, because he wasn't feeling good, and had to make Brendon leave Ryan and Gerard. But he shouldn't feel bad. If Brendon was a good friend, he would've taken Patrick home anyway, without him asking!

"Brendon that's not fair. I- If we're friends, if you care about me, you wouldn't be mad. You-You would've helped me get home without me having to ask."

Brendon rolled his eyes.

"Of course I care about you Patrick you're my best friend. I just," Brendon's voice got shaky and Patrick could've sworn his eyes were teary.
"I like Ryan a lot, you know? Like, like a lot and, and I just don't want to fuck it up with him. Not this time." Brendon shook his head and looked down. Patrick gave a small smile.

"Im happy for you, Bren."
And he meant it. Really, he did. He was glad Brendon had found someone who was more than just a shitty one night stand. He just wished it was someone with lower standards.

"Yeah, and I appreciate that. But you need to find someone too. You're so lonely, get yourself out there man" Brendon encouraged and Patrick shifted uncomfortably, then scoffed.

"Like that'd help. I don't really give off the hot single gay guy vibe like you do," Patrick said, briefly taking off his hat to run his fingers through his hair as he sat down on the couch. Brendon stood in front of him so that Patrick had to look up quite a bit to meet his eyes.

"Patrick Martin Stump you shut the fuck up right now I swear to god I will rip your dick off. You are the cutest piece of ass to ever bless this earth and I'm pretty damn sure that if you wore less dad cardigans, smiled more and actually socialized, you'd have guys breaking down your door." Brendon stated matter-of-factly. Patrick chuckled.

"Yeah?" Patrick stood, now standing at Brendon's level.
"If I'm such a 'cute piece of ass'"
he air quoted,
"then why haven't you made a move on me?"

Brendon grinned brightly, grabbing the sides of Patrick's face so that he could look him directly in the eye, and probably (knowing Brendon) so that they could be too close for Patrick's comfort.

"Because you're my best friend."
Brendon said, nodding quickly. He pulled his hands away from Patrick and turned around to walk to his room.
"Plus, you're not my type."
He added as he disappeared into the next room. Patrick huffed.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked, following Brendon (who was totally purposely messing with Patrick) into his room.
Brendon shrugged.
"It means you're not my type."

Patrick sat on the edge of the bed as Brendon took of his shirt and jeans, about to shower.
Seeing Brendon naked wasn't really a big deal anymore. They had known each other for so long, it'd be weird if Patrick wasn't used to it. Even though Brendon wasn't quite used to Patrick's body, but that's because Patrick didn't like to show it off and be so casual about it like Brendon always was.

"And what exactly is your type?"
Patrick asked. Brendon stopped undressing and just stood in his underwear and looked up thoughtfully.
"Well, for starters, I like tall guys. So, that kind of rules you right out."
Patrick chuckled.

"I like... I don't know, I like guys who are really bold and like-not manly, in fact feminine guys are a massive turn on- but I like guys who intimidate me, you know? Guys who could easily dominate me and who are successful and confidant and flashy-but not cocky or show offish, just...aware of their fierceness, and accepting and owning it, but not flaunting."

Patrick smirked.
"Guys like Ryan, yeah?"

Brendon nodded fervidly.
"Yeah...gah, Ryan. Ryan's exactly my type. With his fucking smile and his long legs and his vests and collars and ties and eye makeup and hair that falls perfectly across his forehead and weird ass style choices that literally no one else can pull off- he's perfect."

Patrick couldn't help but think about Pete. And he was doing so good, he hadn't thought about or talked about Pete Wentz in like-
a whole fifteen minutes.

But when Brendon started gushing about Ryan's perfection, Patrick's mind went straight to him and his hair, his broad shoulders and tan skin and toned arms, fluffy hair and tight t-shirts and eyeliner and wow.
Was Pete and example of Patrick's type?
Probably.
And as he thought about Pete he thought about tonight, how horribly things went, how pete left, and he thought about the beautiful picture of Pete he snapped before he was lost in the rainy mist and the fuzzy sea of dark Chicago light.

"Patrick? Did you hear me?"
Brendon asked, breaking Patrick from his daze.
"I asked if we're good?"

Patrick gave a small smile, the image of Pete fading away from him replaying over and over in his head.
"Yeah. We're good."

A/N
(Cooly cool cool !!)