Give Me A Taste Of What You're Really Like (Peterick)

Pete's An Evil Genius And Patrick Is So Going Down.

Joe and Brendon are officially done with Pete, and Pete can't actually blame them, then again Brendon's the one who gave him the idea so lets switch the blame to him. They left a little while ago, rolling their eyes at Pete and his completely amazing plan, by the way.

Pete's an evil genius and Patrick is so going down, well, when he figures out how he's gonna seduce him, he's surely gonna go down. Pete absolutely did not search how to seduce a guy on his internet browser, you can check his history and everything, what? No, of course he didn't delete it, he'd never do such a thing.

After all Pete's only an innocent little flower in the depths of this absurd chaos, Patrick's the one who started it, he's only aiming to finish it and boy is it gonna be quite a fantastic finale.

Pete hums quietly, clucking his tongue softly against the roof of his mouth as thoughts swarm throughout his head, what should he do? Joe just told him to drop a lot of pens, what an idiot, well, that'll probably be the first thing he tries, deliberately bending over slowly to pick them up and exposing the delicate though, inviting swell of his ass, why not? He might even shake it a little bit, wiggle in order to tease, but only slight, he can't be too obvious, that takes all the fun out of it. Maybe he'll "accidentally" fall to his hands and knees too, that'll certainly get a reaction.

Whether it's Patrick snorting out a laugh and commenting sarcastically about how he's got the elegance of a ballerina or instead staring at him intently with darkened eyes and gritted teeth.

Pete's hoping that it will be a flushed lusty gaze centered on him and not just an arch of a brow and a frown of the lips indicating that it didn't at all effect Patrick and he's clearly aware of what Pete's up to. That would just suck a whole lot.

Pete shifts on his couch, glaring at the television that's currently presenting a guy who actually resembles Patrick..Okay, he only has glasses, but hey, it reminds Pete of him, and yeah, Pete's obsessed, he'll admit it, but can you blame him?

Pete's out to get revenge and he's gonna succeed if he has anything to say about it...Alright he's sort of overreacting he knows that, it was just a stupid prank, but his ego has been wounded severely and he's not okay with that.

His actions weren't exactly dignified, but neither we're Patrick's like, who the fuck glues someone to a chair, what is he twelve? Wait...Well, if the shoe fits.

Pete groans, quickly grabbing his remote and turning the channel, which results in finding a commercial completely dedicated to selling hats. "Are you fucking serious?" Pete asks to no one in particular, eyes glowing bright from frustration and the flash of the television reflecting off of them, he slumps back into the seat and gives an exaggerated sigh, shaking his head he hits the power button to the TV remote and closes his eyes.

Maybe he should try to sleep, like actually try. Staying up is not gonna help his bags and having bags is definitely not gonna entice Patrick, unless he has a thing for guys who can't sleep, insomnia's a bitch.

Pete yawns loudly, covering his mouth, while tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, he twists his body to lay down, collapsing onto his back. He squints his eyes when he hears a quiet panting and the sound of not so tiny paws tapping against the wooden floor.

He tries to sit up, regretting it at the last second because now there's a Hemmy landing on top of his stomach, claws and all, pressing him back into the couch.

Pete lets out a yelp, similar to his own dog which does not help his pride in the least bit. He groans, trying to push Hemmy off of his now bruised chest, because now it's suddenly a little hard to breathe, "Hemmy, please I know you're only trying to cuddle, but come on, man." Pete whines and Hemmy imitates that whine.