I'm the Secret You'll Swear to Keep

/Four/

Smut

Mel waits for Patrick but he doesn't show. Lucas tells her to head off, that her shift is over. She doesn't want to. She wants to wish Patrick a happy birthday, and offer that he goes to her place for some cake.

Mel: Hey, I didn't see you at work. Happy 21st! Just call me, k? I really want to pick you up after your shift and have you over so you can see your gifts!

If he can't make it, which is the current possibility, she'll come in at six with a cupcake. She'll stay until he's off, and then grab him. She hates to see it happen, but she can't lose this mission.

Patrick: I can't go. I woke up with a headache. I think I'll just buy some ice cream and chill after work.

Patrick sets down his phone, guilty that he's lying, before rolling back over in bed. He's got five hours until Pete picks him up. So a reasonable time to get ready would be at five, so he'll have a whole hour. Patrick decides to spend the time sleeping, ignoring the honking of cars outside his window.

Pete presses him to the door, kissing down his neck. Patrick groans, tilting his head to give Pete better access. It feels perfect, so much better than just the normal kiss. Pete whispers something, barely audible due to Patrick's loud moaning. So, Pete simply lifts Patrick off his feet and carries him to the bedroom. Their lips connect again with a kiss dirty and wrong, but so--

Patrick's eyes crack open, blinking the sun away. His pillow is wet. Was he kissing it? He peeks at the time. It's nearly five. He flops back down in the sheets. Was that a wet dream? Patrick's never had one, especially about a guy he met only days ago.

Patrick squeeze his eyes shut. "Please, ten more minutes." He whispers. He hasn't wanted to go back to a dream this bad since he was eleven and he dreamed about getting a puppy.

But it doesn't work, and Patrick pulls himself up to shower. In the shower, he washes everything, hoping to smell extra good. While he dries off, he practices all the things he could say, hoping he doesn't sound weird. After he dresses, he looks up alcohol and what it's like to be drunk.

He hopes he isn't an angry or weepy drunk. The articles say to eat greasy foods and chug water. Patrick downs a water bottle and some leftover nuggets. He flops on the couch, hair dry and fifteen extra minutes to spare.

His nerves jump and his stomach does somersaults. Why is he so nervous? Patrick's mind makes matters worse by replaying his dirty dream back to him in his head. Is this going to make it weird? Probably not. It'll probably just give Patrick a stronger urge to fuck him.

Knock Knock Knock

Patrick almost pukes. He stands, giving himself one last look in his phone's camera before answering the door. "Hey, Pete!" He grins.

"Happy Birthday!" Pete cheers, pulling Patrick into a hug.

"Thanks."

"How does twenty-one feel?"

"The same." Patrick shrugs, shutting his apartment door.

"It won't feel the same after tonight, you get to have a big boy drink!"

"Big boy drink?" Patrick laughs, walking outside with Pete. "I want you to walk up to the bartender and say that." Patrick slides into the passengers side.