the boy on manic street

Twenty-Two

Pete's POV

I am the Emo King.

I smile to myself as I apply a thick coating of eyeliner. How did I ever become so lucky to meet Patrick Stump? God has to be real if I'm that lucky.

Patrick is in the bedroom, getting dressed for work. It's Monday. Which makes me want to curl up and die. Well, I guess that's an exaggeration. If I die, no more Patrick. So I guess I just want to curl up and mourn. Oh well. I get to work with Andy and Joe all day, at least. This week Patrick gets off his shift at 7:00 rather than 4:00. I don't know why it was different last week, something involving new staff I think.

I reflect on Saturday. That was a success, to be quite honest. We finished Dead on Arrival and started Grand Theft Autumn. I'm pretty sure Patrick has been coming up with even more, as last night he was up writing like a teacher grading exams. I didn't bother him, though. He'll tell me when he wants to. I don't like to pressure him.

I walk out of the bathroom, adjusting my Metallica tank. Patrick smiles over at me from tying his shoes. He's so damn attractive with that bowtie.

I smile and sit beside him, leaning down to tie my own shoes, only mine are high-tops rather than dress shoes. He leans against me until I'm done then turns my head to face him. I watch him, waiting to see what his next move is. He studies me, a small smile played across his lips, "Yep. I love you." Patrick stands up and straightens out his dress shirt before walking out into the kitchen.

I smile, following him to the kitchen. He takes his medicine then goes to the door, about to exit before I grab his wrist, "Just gonna leave me hanging, 'Trick?"

"Did you want something, Emo King?" Patrick smiles, stepping up close to me and brushing the fringe out of my eyes. I love when he does that.

"Just something," I smile, leaning down to peck him on the lips before exiting the apartment. Two can play at this game, slick.

I hear him pout behind me, locking the door and pursuing me to the elevator, "Hey!"

"What?" I smirk, turning to him as he runs up, almost directly into my chest. Which I wouldn't mind.

"I thought you wanted something," Patrick blushes, looking at his feet.

I smile and step into the elevator. He follows, then pushes me against the wall, practically smashing his lips onto mine. We're on the fifth level, so it's enough time for him to slip his tongue around mine and make out with me until we hit floor one.

"Someone was anxious," I tease as we walk to the café, holding hands.

Patrick blushes again, "You're cute."

"Thanks," I wink, grinning.

"You want a coffee before work?" He asks as we walk inside around 7:24, "It's on me."

I shrug, "Sure. I'll take advantage of free coffee."

Patrick laughs, punching my shoulder lightly before going to the back, "You're supposed to say 'I'll take one, but I'm paying' or something."

"But it's free coffee! Not free Pizza, but I'll take it," I grin as he comes out again with a cup of coffee for me.

"It's called manners," Patrick rolls his eyes, laughing, "Now get going to work! You walk so slow." He practically pushes me out of the café.