Lets Not And Say We Did

Thirty Two

Pete could admit that he liked kissing Patrick. His lips were soft. Right now they were cold and salty. They tasted like the water. But they also tasted like Patrick. Innocent and sweet. But also experienced and hot. Patrick's mouth tasted like a contradiction.

"Sluts!"

And then they were falling sideways. Pete didn't have time to close his mouth or hold his breath before he went under. The taste of the water filling his mouth. He stood back up panting and choking.

"You fucking asshole!" Pete turned around and pushed Ryan. "Where the hell did you even come from?"

"You guys looked hot over here." He pushed his wet hair out of his face. "I wanted to help you cool off."

"Why are you bothering us?"

"Who else am I going to bother? The asshole making a sand castle?"

They looked towards the sand where Brendon was concentrating intensely on his sandcastle. Seeming oblivious to everything around him.

"I'm going to go help him with it." Patrick began walking out of the water.

"I'm going to help too." Pete didn't give a damn about that sandcastle. He just wanted to be around Patrick.

"Are you guys seriously going to make me go over there with him?" Ryan whined.

They didn't answer. They just began running towards Brendon. Ryan sighed in frustration and followed behind them.

"Need some help with that mighty castle?" Patrick joked.

"No. You guys will just mess it up."

"Hey, I own a very successful architecture business!" Pete laughed.

"I've never heard of you specifically building something." Brendon looked up at him. Placing his hand above his eyes to block out the sun.

"But I own the business."

"So? I own a box of tampons. Doesn't mean I make use of it."

"Let's have a competition then." Patrick suggested. "Pete and I versus you and Ryan. We'll see who builds the best sandcastle."

"I don't want to work with him." Ryan said as he walked up.

"And I don't need to work with him."

"Guys come on! You don't have to be friends. Just build a fucking castle!" Patrick pouted.

"Why do you own a box of tampons?" Pete scratched his head.

"I can beat you guys by myself." Brendon ignored him.

"Please!" Patrick bounced up and down as he spoke. "It'll be fun."

"What do we get when we win?" Ryan asked.

"You get to brag about beating us forever."

"Seems fair." Brendon shrugged.

"Good. It's settled." Patrick flipped his wet hair out of his face. "May the best men win."

"We will." Ryan called after him.

Patrick grabbed Pete's hand to pull him towards a different spot.

"Why does he own a box of tampons?" Pete pointed behind him to where Brendon and Ryan were.

"I've learned it's better not to ask."

They sat down in the sand across from each other. Their hands went to work. Piling a large mound of sand into the middle of them.

Patrick was doing most of the work. He could feel Pete staring at him. His hands were slidding up and down the mound. Not really adding more sand to it. But Patrick didn't mind. Maybe Pete staring at him meant Pete liked the way he looked. And maybe Pete liking the way he looked meant Pete might actually like him. And maybe Pete liking him meant he might kiss him again.

"You're beautiful." Pete suddenly said.
His tone playful.

His eyes snapped up at Pete's words. Patrick was many things. Beautiful wasn't one of them. But his insides warmed at the words anyway.

"Thank you." He trained his eyes on the sand in front of him. Putting all his attention on the hill. Trying not to focus too much on Pete's words.

"I like you, Patrick." He smiled.

He was dreaming. He was dreaming and he was going to wake up now to a very sweaty bed. He closed his eyes and opened them again. No. Still on the beach. Sitting in front of Pete. Pete still likes you. He bit his lip to keep from smiling too hard.

"I-I like you too, Pete." So much more than you could know.

"Hey, Patrick?" Pete's voice was no longer light and cheeful. He sounded shaky. Nervous maybe?

"Yeah?"

Patrick kept his eyes on the sand as he waited for Pete to speak. A full minute passed and Pete didn't say anything. But Patrick kept patting away at the sand. Another full minute passed and Patrick was getting nervous. He glanced up and Pete was still staring at him. But he looked worried.

Before Patrick could ask what was wrong, Pete finally spoke.

"I think I'm gay for you, Patrick."

His throat went dry. "What?" What did that even mean? That he wanted to kiss him again? That he wanted to do something...else?

"I like you. And not in a friendly sort of bro way. I think I-"

"Pat!" Brendon yelled. Patrick swore under his breath.

"What?" He yelled back.

"Your phone is ringing in the beach bag!"

"How do you know it's mine?"

"Uh, because it's playing Hips Don't Lie by Shakira!"

Pete smirked. Patrick blushed.

"See if it's important!" Patrick called back.

Brendon stood up from his spot in the sand. He dusted his hands off on his shorts before digging in the bag and finding the ringing phone. The picture and name flashed on the front. He stared at the phone for a few seconds before speaking up.

"Um, it's a- it's Andy." He didn't yell that like he yelled everything else.

Pete watched Patrick's face carefully. He expected Patrick to get upset. Or not answer back. He even expected him to yell at Brendon to ignore the call and block the number. But Patrick never does what Pete expects him to.

"I'm coming!" He yelled back. Purposely avoiding Pete's eyes as he rushed over to answer his ex's call.