fall (rytrick oneshot)

Fall. It was Patrick's favourite time of the year. He loved everything about it - the unique swirls of colour on each leaf, the warmth, and the sunsets. He loved every day of it; he couldn't pick just one day.

Little did he know, this one particular day in fall would become his favourite.

Patrick didn't know that he was going to meet his future husband that day. He didn't know that he was going to meet a gorgeous boy with honey brown eyes who was infatuated with guitar that day, but he did.

The gentle breeze swept through his soft hair as he walked down to the park, where he would sit on his favourite bench and proceed to look at the wonders that were surrounding him. He would sketch something, as he did everyday. The crisp leaves crunched beneath his scuffed boots as he walked along the sidewalk, making the most satisfying sound, and he smiled slightly every time a leaf slowly floated to the ground. As he approached the park, he heard many things: children laughing, birds tweeting, adults conversing. However, his favourite still remained the leaves.

As he slowly walked through the park, he held his sketchbook tight to his chest. That sketchbook meant everything to him - it's where he kept some of his best memories and his worst. Patrick found sketching much better than just simply taking a photograph; he thought that drawing added a little creativity to the picture, while photographing it only meant to had to press a button which required no thought.

Patrick didn't care about mistakes. He believed that you were meant to make mistakes, and it reminded him that nothing could be perfect. Nothing. He believed that everybody was imperfect, but that was a good thing. He didn't really care for people who said that they were utterly perfect in every way, because those people tend to be the ones who are the most imperfect. In fact, Patrick loved mistakes. He loved how one small line could ruin everything, or could make it better. He loved how it just randomly came and that you didn't know when or where it would happen.

Patrick mindlessly wandered to his favourite park bench, before sitting down and opening his sketchbook. He grabbed a pencil from his pocket and tried to decide what to draw. He'd already drawn so many things in this park so many times, and wanted every page in his almost-full sketchbook to be different. Of course, he could just draw something he'd drawn before from a different angle, but that was no fun.

He sat there quietly for a short while, before glancing over at the small water fountain which was blocked from the sun by tall oak trees. He'd drawn this before, however, there was something one there which made him want to draw it again. There was a boy - possibly a couple of years or so younger than him - sat peacefully playing a guitar. The boy was singing, too, and god did he have a beautiful voice. His slender fingers travelled along the guitar, playing a tune that Patrick had not heard before. Needless to say, the song was beautiful, much like him.

Before, Patrick did not believe that anyone or anything was perfect. But this boy, he was. His hand strummed almost effortlessly across the strings of the guitar, and the words flowed out his mouth.

Patrick stared at the boy in awe. He was utterly gorgeous. His honey brown eyes focused on the guitar, and he occasionally had to brush some of his dark brown hair from his eyes. Patrick wasn't quite sure how long he was staring before the boy looked up, his eyes meeting Patrick's blue ones. He threw him a small smile, blushing slightly. Of course, Patrick blushed also.

He looked away, trying to focus on the leaves beneath his feet. Patrick looked back up at the boy shyly, turned more towards him and placed his pencil down gently on the page. He drew the lines for the fountain which the boy was sitting on effortlessly, as he had drawn them before. Patrick drew the boy himself awfully carefully, making a few mistakes along the way, thus making the drawing imperfectly perfect.

The boy himself (who was named "Ryan Ross") had noticed Patrick staring at him a few times, before focusing back on his page to draw. Ryan thought that Patrick was awfully cute, and undeniably attractive. He was short, wore a fedora and glasses and was slightly chubby. That just made him more the all adorable.

After finishing his song, Ryan decided to talk to the cute stranger. He carefully placed his guitar back in its case, before flinging it over his shoulder and slowly walking towards the boy. When he approached him, he coughed, just to grab Patrick's attention.

Patrick's head snapped up. Fuck, he thought, it's the boy. He blushed and smiled, before quickly closing his sketchbook so that the boy wouldn't see what he was drawing. He thought that the boy might be a tad creeped out if a stranger was drawing him playing guitar.

"Can I help you?" Patrick asked politely, still blushing.

"Can I, uh, sit here?" Ryan replied, awkwardly pointing beside Patrick. Patrick nodded, before grabbing his phone. He couldn't exactly continue the drawing now - the boy would think he was an absolute creep.

Ryan sat down, getting his guitar out again.

After a while of hearing the other boy play, Patrick spoke up. "It's a beautiful song." He complimented with a slight blush and smile.

"Thanks." Ryan gracefully accepted the compliment, blushing and returning the smile. "What's your name?"

"Patrick Stump." Patrick replied, offering his hand for a handshake.

Ryan took it and shook it gently. "Ryan Ross."

***
royalwentz made me rytrick trash k bye