I'm Just Passing The Time (Peterick Stripper AU)

It's Killing Me Inside (Patrick's POV)

A/N~ So this is set earlier in the night, just before the phone call to Pete, during & after. We're gonna see the scene unfold from Patrick's perspective, so I hope you're ready ;)

Also, I had originally pictured Josh being 'The Vessel', but Y'all seemed to really land on the idea of it being Tyler sooooo...

~Skittles Out~

I played with the bowtie of the boy at the bar as he sat nervously. "Where's-" he started, but I cut him off in a flirty tone.

"The vessel will be out momentarily, Josh."

He nodded, letting out a breath of air. "I just get nervous after what happened last time we left together..."

"Just be more convincing with the police." I told him, "Cover the Vessel up better. I'm sure his fishnets didn't help that situation..."

"I brought extra clothes, believe me." Josh laughed, pushing a hand through his short brown hair. "I'm not risking another chase from the cops..."

I laughed, looking out into the room to see if Tyler was coming yet. "He found it quite amusing... Otherwise he wouldn't of taken you back so simply."

Josh lit up at that, making me laugh again. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "I'll go find him. Get a drink or two in you to loosen up a bit." I tapped the bar as I stood, signaling Spencer to come over. I made sure to grab the small bag Josh had with him, full of clothes for Tyler. I walked through the mostly empty tables before diverting to the back room beside the bar.

"Are you sure this will be enough?" I heard Ryan asking quietly.

"Absolutely, my Hershey kiss. Combined with mine, we will make it outta here with enough to spare." Another voice replied. It had to be Brendon. No one else referee to Ryan as 'Hershey kiss' or 'Hershey eyes'.

"Ry! Aucun client dans le dos!" I scolded, quietly.

"Je suis désolé!" Ryan called back.

"Hey! Je peux parler français aussi!" Brendon exclaimed with a laugh. I heard Ryan's giggles following.

"Oh, yea." I shrugged. I forgot sometimes, since most customers didn't speak it. We used it to communicate discretely, whether it be someone unwelcomed trying for a dance or relaying instructions. It was a good thing my mother taught me the language when I was young.

I continued through the room, until I came upon Tyler, sleeping curled up on one of the beds. I rolled my eyes, poking the holes in his fish nets. "Tyler! Arise, vessel."

Tyler's face scrunched in irritation. "Unless Jishua is here, leave me alone." He said, curling into a somehow even tighter ball.

"He is here." I informed the curled up boy, setting the bag of clothes on the bed beside him. "So do you really want to keep the gentleman waiting?"

Tyler uncurled immediately, pushing himself up into an upright position. He tugged at the short skirt he had on and blinked at me.

"He's here?"

"He also brought you clothes for a trip to his place." I said, nodding to the bag on the bed beside him.

Tyler grinned widely. "Thank you, Patrick! Er- I mean, Punk. I'm still getting used to the name thing..."

I shrugged. "We're in the back. We should be fine."

Tyler nodded, reaching for the bag and beginning to dig inside for the clothing change. I left him to it, wandering through and out of the room. Ryan and Brendon were already on their way to a private booth when I stepped into the main bar area.