Two tan fingers held onto the burning cigarette. Patrick sat entranced by the puffs off whispy smoke dancing out of Pete's lips. Pete's whisky bottle eyes softly glanced at Patrick's rosy lips.
"So, sugar, tell me about yourself." Pete said, taking a focused interest in Patrick's body. Patrick was taken aback by the subject of conversation. There was nothing he could say about himself.
Patrick held in a nervous giggle, "There is not anything interesting about myself." Patrick said, his eyes avoiding contact with the man sitting next to him on the park bench. Pete lowly sighed and wrapped a leather bound arm around the being with a smaller frame, pulling him close.
"I seem to think otherwise." Pete purred into Patrick's ear, eyes lit up with the power of lust.
Patrick shifted uncomfortably in his wooden seat. He was seeing Mikey in this lustful tension filled way. Right? It shouldn't hurt to feel the warmth of this man's skin.
This is wrong.
Patrick's eyes grew wide as chapped cigarette lips crashed into his. He pulled back, removing the comforting arm protecting him.
"P-Pete, stop. Please."
"What's wrong, sugar?" Pete's face was set in a state of worry. His eyebrows lifted, lips curved down, eyes wide, mouth cracked open.
"I do not know."
"Hey, calm down."
"Play something for me, Pete." Patrick's eyes shifted to Pete's guitar case which was propped up against the metal armrest of the bench.
Pete's face lit up in surprise, "Really?"
"Yes," the angel replied, "you have a gift."
Pete smiled as he lifted the case from the ground and opened it, revealing an expertly crafted strung, black stained acoustic guitar. Pete lifted the possession from the case and then carefully sat the case back down on the ground.
"I call this 'Disloyal Order of Waterbuffaloes'" Pete announced and the began to play.
Patrick giggled as the song carried on. The way Pete's mouth shaped crafted words and the way he plucked at the copper strings had Patrick mesmerized. His heart jumped when Pete would make eye contact with him.
He was falling in love.
"Patrick, what do you want?" Pete asked after he finished, smirking.
Patrick's eyes were fixed on his, pink with lust, "You, Pete. You."
