Dick Pics (Peterick) **REWRITTEN**

45

CH. 45 -- PATRICK

A knock on my door interrupts my sulking in the dark of my room. Dallon isn't here - he's at class, which is where I should be - so I have to open the door. Or maybe I can just not answer it, and whoever it is will go away.

The knocking continues, and I roll my eyes, pushing myself out of the bed and going to the door. I open it and come face to face with Adam. "What the fuck?" I say immediately, and he smiles at me, pushing past me to get inside. I stick my head out of the door to look around the hallway and make sure no one saw, closing it after I don't see anyone. "What the hell are you doing here?" I exclaim, turning back to face him.

"Don't act too happy to see me, damn." Adam says from his seat on my couch. He kicks his feet up after grabbing the latest issue of PEOPLE off of my coffee table. "You liked my article?" He asks, pointing at the ad that covered my dick size on the front page. My eyes widen, my eyebrows furrowing.

"I'm sorry, what?" I ask, walking further into my dorm, closer to him.

"My article. With your boyfriend." He says nonchalantly, flipping through the pages. He wrote the goddamn article? When I don't answer, he sets the magazine down, a smile on his face. "You didn't know it was me?"

"Fuck you." I say, my jaw clenching. Adam laughs, walking closer to me.

"You already did, baby. Seemed like you like it, too." Adam says, putting one hand on my shoulder and the other on the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. I let my eyes flicker to his lips for a split second when he leans towards me. This is wrong.

"Stop it." I push him away and take a few steps back. "I'm in love with Pete."

"Sure you are. I guess you didn't even tell him about me, huh? He didn't know who I was when I talked to him." Adam thinks out loud, smirking at me. "I'm sure he'd love to know who his boyfriend got it on with in the short time you guys broke up."

My eyes widen, and I shake my head. "That's not funny. I'll tell Pete when I'm ready."

"Yeah? Or I can tell him for you. How about that?" Adam says, almost as if he's teasing me.

"Please don't. This is my fucking relationship you're playing with here. It would be different if he was some fuck buddy, but he's the love of my life. I have his fucking initials tattooed on my arm." I pull my sleeve up to show him the skin of my inner forearm, close to my elbow, where Pete's initials are scribbled on my arm for the rest of my fucking life.

His eyes widen, and he stumbles a step back towards the door. "Fuck, even I'm not that mean. Tell him, Patrick. The longer you wait, the worse it'll be." Adam waves at me before opening my door and leaving.

I walk over to the door to deadbolt it, pushing my back against it and sliding down the wall once I've done so.

--

"Goddammit, Brendon, no! Red clashes with yellow. We are not having yellow tablecloths and red napkins. This is not a fucking hamburger, you fucking buffoon!" Pete shouts at Brendon, ripping the paper in his hands to pieces. Maybe I shouldn't have suggested the two of them to work together.

"How about white tablecloths instead?" I suggest, walking further into the room and cutting Brendon off from shouting back.

Pete turns around, his face lit up when he sees me. "That's.." Brendon trails off, scratching the back of his neck, "not a bad idea. Thanks, 'Trick."

"No problem. Pete, can I, ah, talk to you alone?" I ask, and he nods. Brendon smiles at us as we walk back into the hallway, closing the door behind us. "Shit, Pete, this is harder than I thought." I say, biting my lip. His eyebrows furrow, as if he's confused.

"I swear to god, if you're breaking up with me, I'm calling every tattoo artist I know and telling them not to cover up my initials." He threatens, gesturing to the tattoo on my upper, inner forearm.

I smile and shake my head at him, cupping his cheeks with my hands. "I love you. Forever and always, remember? We both have tattoos, and you have a ring to prove it." I move one of my hands to his right hand, playing with the ring on his third finger. "I made a mistake."

"A mistake?" Pete repeats, looking into my eyes. Fuck, this is so fucking hard.

"When we broke up, I, uh. I fucked someone else." I say, and the hurt in Pete's eyes make me want to cry. His mouth drops open, and he freezes.

"'Trick, no.." His eyes fill with tears, and he takes a step back.

"Pete, please. I'm sorry. I'm an awful person. It was a one time thing, and we weren't even together. He will never mean anything to me." I try, and Pete shakes his head, biting his lip.

"Who was it? Was it Nick?" Pete asks, and I sigh, shaking my head.

"No, it wasn't Nick. I will never fuck Nick, Pete, I promise. It was. It was Adam Sisky, the reporter that coerced you into giving my fake dick size out to a magazine." I say, trying to lighten the mood. His mouth drops open again.

"Why him?" Pete demands, crossing his arms across his chest.

"He listened to me rant, and I just, I don't know, wasn't myself. I believed that he actually cared. But he used it against me. I promise, Pete, I don't love him. I don't even know him. I don't want to know him. I love and want you and only you." I plead, and he finally smiles at me.

"Patrick, I think this calls for a special occasion." Pete says, grabbing my hands. My eyebrows raise. How did he go from so upset to wanting to celebrate? "Revenge."

april 27, 2017 is important for two reasons. one, everyone's favourite man with the soul voice turns thirty-three.

two, apparently "purple," as pete has called it, is coming out then.

who else is actually fucking pumped and so ready for a new album ????

thoughts on this chap?

adam is a sneaky ass bitch that cannot be trusted. but we already knew that

thx 4 reading babies