Book of my favorite Petericks

Part 2

The party's already in full swing when something knocks against Pete's elbow, jostling his drink. Pete's about to turn round and give the jostler a piece of his mind when he realises it's Patrick.

"Hey!" he says, all annoyance forgotten. "Long time no see." He can feel his smile stretching his face. Seeing Patrick is always good for the soul. And for other parts of his anatomy.

"Yeah," Patrick's wearing his glasses tonight and he pushes them back up his nose. "Who knew school would actually require work?" His smile is wicked, and he raises his voice over the sound of the pounding music. "It's been what, three weeks?"

"More like a month," Pete says, "After the Black Flag gig, I think that was the last time."

"If you only think you remember, I need to try harder," Patrick steps closer, stumbling as the crowd pushes around them and Pete puts a hand on his hip to steady him. He slips his fingers up under Patrick's slashed t-shirt to stroke sweaty skin and feels the little quiver he was looking for.

"I remember pefectly," he says, licking his lips. They were both exhilarated by the show, by the music and the pit, and worked it out in the best possible way. "But you should feel free to remind me, if you want."

He's already leaning in to kiss Patrick's mouth, crowds be damned, when someone yells "Stump, get over here," and literally grabs Patrick by the shoulder, dragging him away.

"I gotta deal with this," Patrick says, over his shoulder "But don't leave, OK? I'll be back."

Pete watches him go. It's a pretty great back view. Patrick's wearing tight plaid pants, clinging to his thighs. Pete can't wait to peel him out of them.

Pete makes the rounds, drinks a cup of punch, dances until the sweat runs down his back, pogoing with Joe when the Undertones blare over the sound system. He settles an argument between Rob and Sean, and sweet talks Greta and Bob into helping at the anti-apartheid rally this weekend.

He's leaning against the wall next to the kitchen when Patrick finds him again.

"Hey," Patrick knocks back the last of Pete's second cup of punch, and makes a face at the taste. Pete laughs. Patrick's pretty cute with his nose all scrunched up.

"Yeah, that's why I hadn't finished it," he says. "You deal with, whatever that was?"

Patrick huffs and rubs his forehead. He's wearing something that looks suspiciously like the studded leather cuff Pete thought he'd lost after the Black Flag show. The fact that Patrick took it and kept it makes something twist in his gut that he's not ready to think about just yet.

"Seriously, who talks about group projects at a party." he asks. "I put Max's mind at rest, anyways."

"And you've already done the work, right?" Pete says. Despite the attitude and flashes of temper, he's learned that Patrick's pretty conscientious, especially if school work's involved.

"Of course, who do you take me for?" Patrick says. "Now, where were we?"

Pete leans over to brace both hands on the wall, either side of Patrick's head.

"Right about here," he says and kisses him. Patrick opens his mouth eagerly and kisses back, already making those little noises that get to Pete like nothing else. Pete cups his sweaty nape, and deepens the kiss, pressing closer. Patrick's mouth is always amazing, and he curls his tongue against Pete's the same way he curls it round Pete's cock. Pete grunts as Patrick's hand finds his fly, rubbing him hard though his pants. Pete breaks off to gasp "Patrick," as Patrick shapes him through the denim, hooking one foot round the back of his calf to draw him closer still.