Lets Not And Say We Did

Nineteen

Patrick was staring at Pete. And Pete was staring at Patrick's- no in Patrick's very personal notebook. He could feel himself getting angry. Who the hell did he think he was?

"Oh, I was just-"

"You were just going through my personal stuff." Patrick put his hands on his hips.

"No. I was looking for a pen and paper-"

"So you came all the way in here?"

"I was dropping off your damn pizza!" Pete snapped. Patrick flinched. "Ryan took one and I was trying to leave you a note saying so."

"Well," Patrick stalked towards him, snatching the book out of Pete's hands. "Thanks. Now I know."

Pete stood there. Knowing that was clearly his cue to leave. And he wanted to. Really, he did. Why would he want to be stuck in a room with Patrick wearing nothing but a fluffy robe and a towel on his head? He wouldn't. It was just that poem was really good.

"I didn't know you wrote poetry."

"I don't." He opened a drawer and put the book on top of some clothes.

"Then what do you call that? A book of rhyming emotions?"

Patrick didn't smile at the joke. "How was your trip?" He guessed he was going to have to be polite since Pete showed no signs of leaving.

"Refreshing. I love California."

"Why don't you move there?"

"It's a bit corrupt-"

"And you're not?"

"Touché."

He shrugged and nodded. "So?"

"I like it here. This feels more like my city, you know? I was born and raised in this state. I started my success in this town."

"I guess I could respect that."

"Good." Pete looked around the room again. "So you spent the few days I was gone destorying your room?"

He smiled at that. "Actually, I wasn't here much."

"Oh. Where were you?"

"My place. My showing is in a few days and I was preparing some things. Painting some nudes-"

"You paint nudes?" Pete asked quickly.

Jealously spiking in his stomach. Yes, he was jealous. He wanted to kiss the guy. He could admit he was jealous that he'd spend who knows how long staring at another man's dick.

"No. It was a joke." Patrick laughed softly. But then he had a thought. His expression turned serious. "Why? Do you want your nudes painted?"

"What? No. Why? Do you do them?"

"No! Why? D-Do you want me to?"

"I-" Pete exhaled loudly and shook his head. "God, this is awkward."

"Sorry. I thought It'd be funny."

"What? Oh, not the nudes." He sighed.

"Oh? The nudes thing wasn't awkward?" Patrick raised his eyebrows.

"No. I mean, it was. But that's not what I'm talking about."

"What are you talking about then?"

Patrick asked innocently. But he knew exactly what Pete was talking about. The same thing that was hunting his every waking moment. The same scene he kept seeing when he closed his eyes at night. The moment he admittedly might have accidentally thought about in the shower.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

"No. Sorry."

Patrick shook his head and shrugged. Pete's eyes narrowed to slits. Was he really going to pretend he was confused right now?

"You know what? Never mind."

And to think he was wanting to kiss that boy. What a childish thing to do. Just because it might be embarrassing for him, he was going to act like it never happened? Fine. If he wanted to do that, Pete would too. He turned on his heels to walk out.

"Wait, Pete!" Patrick suddenly wanted him to stay.

"What?"

"Are you talking about the-the park?"

He turned back to face the little saint. Standing in all white. Looking as pure as ever. But Pete knew that wasn't the case anymore. There was nothing pure about that little fucker.

"Has your memory suddenly come back to you?"

"I-uh." Patrick looked down at his toes. "Yes."

"Then yes, I'm talking about the park."

"The kiss?"

"We did not kiss."

"We almost kissed!"

"You almost kissed me!"

"You were going to let me."

But Patrick wasn't entirely sure that was true. He had no idea if Pete would have let it happen or if he would have pushed him away. But he was hoping for the former. And he was feeling bold. There had to be a reason Pete brought it up, right?

"Yeah." Pete's eyes searched his. "I was."

Patrick could hear the fireworks going off in his ears. He could feel his heart threatening to be right out of his chest. And for the literal life of him, he couldn't remember how to breathe.

"Y-You were?" Oh, the things he'd do for a time machine right now.

"I-I uh was." Pete cleared his throat and stood up straighter. His voice was more commanding and steady when he spoke this time. The way only Pete's voice could be. "I will."

"Like right now?" Patrick's eyes widened. Anticipation filling him like a young boy in a video game store.

"Like now." He repeated with a smirk.

And Patrick couldn't think of a sexier thing than the smirk on that man's mouth.

And he wasn't going to waste time just thinking about it. He'd learned his lesson. No, he was going for the kill. Now! He didn't want to give Pete time to change his mind. So he quickly got rid of the space between them. Using his thumb and forefinger to tilt his stubbled chin up.

"Oh, Patrick!" Ryan came waltzing in the room. Pizza box being balanced on one hand. A slice of pizza in the other. Pete took a step back from Patrick. Causing his hand to fall back at his side. "Oh, hey Pete. What are you doing in here?"

"Nothing. I was just leaving." He brushed past Ryan.

And in that moment maybe, just maybe, Patrick hated Ryan a little.