10.Fic: Two-Sided Coin: Patrick| Pete/Patrick| NC 17| II/II
The house is quiet when Pete gets back from work. Patrick has retired to the library and is snuggled up with a book in the big arm chair in the corner. He looks up when the door opens and Pete smiles at him. Pete's eyes are rimmed in red and the smell of smoke precedes him as he leans down to kiss Patrick.
Patrick opens his mouth to Pete's seeking tongue and Pete tastes different. He licks his lips and says, "You taste weird."
Pete kisses the tip of his nose. "Had a drink. What have you been doing all day?"
The words in Patrick's book suddenly become more interesting than looking at Pete. He says, "Wandered around, ate some food," he lifts his book, "went through your library."
Pete nods and urges Patrick to shift over until he can squeeze into the chair with him. Pete plucks the book out of his hand and pulls Patrick's legs over his lap. He says, "Hi," and Patrick rolls his eyes at him. Pete laughs and continues, "How are you feeling today?"
Patrick frowns slightly. "Okay." He wonders if that serving girl said something to Pete, but then he takes a closer look at Pete and that's not the reason behind Pete's question at all. Pete's eyes are hooded and his fingers are playing with the hem of Patrick's shirt. Patrick's beginning to recognize the look in Pete's eyes, a look of intent. Patrick goes to open his mouth and Pete puts a silence finger against his lips.
"I know what you want to say." Pete strokes Patrick's bottom lip and says, "Pete." He smiles. "You're going to blush and let me kiss you until you don't care about keeping your hat on, your shirt." Pete leans in close and whispers, "Let's get naked before the kissing."
Patrick licks his tongue out chasing Pete's touch and Pete's gaze drops to his mouth. Patrick flails for a moment, taken off guard, when Pete pushes his legs out of his lap and stands up before walking briskly over to the desk in the corner. He opens a drawer and pulls out a tube that looks vaguely familiar. It also looks used. For a split second, Patrick remembers the girl in the kitchen and he wants to snarl at the evidence that Pete's had someone in this room before, maybe her.
Instead, Patrick reminds himself that person, those people, are in the past and he's here now with Pete. He takes off his hat and Pete's eyes light up like stars. Patrick feels an almost tangible surge of satisfaction. Take that pretty blond girl. Pete starts taking off his clothes and Patrick watches the tattoos across his chest appear before he pulls his own shirt over his head and unbuttons his pants, pushing them down.
Pete says, "Patrick," and Patrick wants to make fun of him, but that feeling quickly passes when Pete drops to his knees in front of Patrick. Pete wraps his hands around Patrick's hips and stares up at him and no one has ever looked at Patrick that way. He brushes Pete's hair out of his face and Pete pushes into his touch like a cat before taking him into his mouth. Patrick's knees nearly buckle and Pete's grip tightens.
Pete pulls back to say, "I've never wanted any one as much as I want you." He climbs to his feet and Patrick is disappointed by the loss of his mouth. Pete sits on the edge of the chair and grabs Patrick's wrist, tugging at him until he's perched over Pete's lap. Patrick feels awkward, horribly exposed situated in such a manner and that feeling only deepens when Pete slicks up his fingers and starts working them into Patrick. Patrick squawks at the sudden intrusion, but then, Pete crooks his fingers and that feels really good. Pete's watching him writhe on his fingers, mouth hanging open and Patrick must be like those name-bearers that proper people whisper about, the ones that get disgraced, because he likes the way Pete's looking at him.
"Shit, Patrick." Pete slides his fingers free, spreads his legs, and plants his feet firmly on the floor. He pulls Patrick forward and positions himself against Patrick. Patrick holds still, unsure and Pete says, "Sit." Patrick's eyebrows shoot up, because he doesn't think that's going to work. He doesn't move at all and Pete sighs, wraps his hands around Patrick's waist and pulls him down, while pressing up.
The entrance is easier this time, but it feels like Pete is lodged much deeper than he was before. Patrick's sort of afraid to move at all, but Pete is squirming beneath him. "Patrick, move," Pete says and he sounds impatient.
"How?" Everything is very tight. Pete bucks his hips, once, twice and apparently, movement is possible. Patrick wiggles up a little bit and sinks back down. Pete hisses and Patrick does it again. It's okay, but he frowns. It seems like something is just out of his reach. He squirms and tries again.
"Yes, like that."
Patrick leans forward and works his hips. "Oh." Lightning skips down his spine. He does it again and the same thing happens. Patrick decides he likes it this way, where he can control what's going on. He bounces up and down, trying to find the angle that feels the best. Pete grips his hips and tries to urge him to go faster, thin hips pushing up into his movements, and Patrick slaps Pete's hands away, saying, "No, let me do it." Then his brain catches up with his mouth and he looks down at Pete in chagrin.
Pete's blinking up at him and there's a long moment when Patrick's sure he's done something horribly wrong. Pete doesn't say anything, but he moves his hands away from Patrick's waist and places them on the arms of the chair. Patrick takes that as permission to start moving again and Pete just stares up at him, mouth parted slightly and his body is tense is a whole new way beneath Patrick.
Now that Patrick's not lost in his own world, he watches the way that his movements make Pete's hands clench and his hips twitch. Patrick rolls his hips harder and takes Pete deeper than before because he likes seeing Pete's eyelashes flutter, likes seeing him bite his bottom lip. The end catches Patrick unprepared and he tightens up around Pete mid stroke, come stripping Pete's stomach and chest.
When Patrick can think, hear again, Pete's begging him. "Please, Patrick, please, please please," and Patrick doesn't know what he's begging for. He asks, "What?" and Pete's muscles are corded, humming with energy even in his stillness. Pete asks, "Can I move?" Oh. Oh. Patrick nods and Pete pulls him down tight against his hips and his thrusts are fast, ragged. Patrick just relaxes down against Pete and lets Pete have him the way he wants to. He sinks his teeth into Pete's shoulder when Pete thrusts up hard because it's becoming too much; Pete shakes and shakes beneath him until finally, he goes slack against Patrick, breathing labored.
Patrick hums and he can feel Pete softening inside him. Pete shifts under him and pulls free, leaving Patrick open and slick across his lap. Pete mutters, "I'm going to have to get this chair cleaned." Patrick makes a faint agreeing sound against Pete's chest. He's beginning to get cold and his thighs are strained, but he still wants to protest when Pete makes him stand up. Pete leaves his clothes on the floor and heads toward the door in all his naked glory.
Patrick stops staring at Pete's ass and realizes he's about to walk out the library with no clothes on. "Wait!" Pete pauses and turns half way to face him; Patrick in that moment knows that Pete is aware of what he looks like naked and how to show off his form to the greatest advantage. His husband, he is learning, has an awful lot in common with the few beautiful name-bearers he'd been exposed to in his youth before his father died. He's not sure how he feels about that, but he is sure that he doesn't want Pete to walk the short distance from the library to their bedroom naked and he certainly isn't walking anywhere naked. "Please, put some clothes on. Pants, at least." Patrick holds his breath and waits.
Pete turns to face him totally and Patrick can't help the way his gaze drops to Pete's heirloom tattoo. Pete watches him, gaze oddly serious. He walks back to the pile of discarded clothes on the floor and shimmies into his jeans. He pulls up the zipper, but doesn't bother with the button at the top of the waistband. "Anything for you."
Patrick smiles shakily and tries to ignore the slickness between his legs as he pulls his own pants and shirt back on. He doesn't bother with anything more. He's pretty sure they're just going to end up naked again in the next few minutes.
--
It takes roughly five days of waking up, eating breakfast and reading in the library to make Patrick incredibly homesick. Not even the way Pete smiles at him at the end of the day keeps him from missing his old room and his mom. Half way through the sixth day when the words of what is really a pretty interesting book start blurring in front of his teary eyes, he breaks down and calls home.
"Mom."
"Patrick!" The soft, delighted tone in her voice sharpens when she asks, "What's wrong, honey?"
Patrick shakes his head futilely and sniffs into the phone. He says, "I want to come home."
"What's going on? Is Pete making you unhappy? Do I need to come over there?"
"No. Pete's not--Pete's not doing anything wrong. I just want to come home." Patrick wipes at his cheeks angrily.
His mom sighs. "Oh, honey. I know it can be tough to adjust to a new house and circumstance. It took your father some time to adjust, too."
Patrick says, "I just sit here all day, waiting for him to come back home and then he only wants..." Patrick stops talking.
"He only wants what?" His mom prompts, "Sex?"
"Mom!" Patrick's sure that his day just got that much worse.
She gives a short laugh. "I know what takes place in a marriage. Listen, is he hurting you?"
"No." Patrick's sullen.
"What's the problem, then?"
Patrick takes a breath. "I just sit here all day, doing nothing. He has all these servants that hate me and he's slept with most of them."
His mom says, "So, you're bored and jealous. That's no reason to come home. You need to talk to Pete. Tell him how you feel; I know there's something for you to do there."
Patrick doesn't want to talk to Pete about it. He doesn't want to upset the delicate balance between them. What if Pete just tells him to grow up and stop whining? He doesn't tell his mom any of that, he just says, "I miss you."
She says, "I miss you, too, baby. You'll be able to come visit soon."
"As soon as proper." Patrick holds the phone close to his ear for a long moment before he says, "I'll talk to you later."
His mom says, "I love you," and the line goes dead.
That night Pete only manages one shallow kiss before Patrick pushes him back and says, "Pete."
"Uh oh. That doesn't sound good. What's wrong?" Pete's leaning back to look into his face.
Patrick says, "We need to talk," and the last traces of a smile disappear from Pete's face.
Pete's embrace tightens briefly before he says, "Okay," and leads Patrick to the couch. "What's on your mind?"
"I, umm." Patrick bites his lip before rushing out, "I need something to do all day. I'm going crazy here in the house." Pete nods and doesn't say anything. Patrick continues, "I'm used to having things to do around the house and helping mom manage the finances."
Pete nods again. "You're bored." Pete flashes him a tremulous smile. "Okay. I can fix that. I can."
There's something odd in Pete's voice; he seems upset but more at himself than Patrick. Patrick rubs Pete's arm and he thinks Pete might be shaking. "Are you alright?"
Pete clears his throat roughly. "Yeah. I-I just need to do this right and I'm already screwing up. You must think I'm a terrible husband. Since we've gotten married, all I've done is kept you hidden away in this empty house. I haven't taken you out or introduced you to my friends. "He tugs agitatedly at his shirt collar. "We should do something. Fly to one of my islands, throw a party, or or or--"
Patrick captures Pete's flailing hand and holds it to his chest. "Pete. Calm down. How about we start with something smaller, like a dinner with friends."
Pete beams brightly and Patrick is thrown by the swift change in mood. Pete says, "We can do that, anything you want."
Patrick says, "Okay, okay," and pulls Pete in close for a hug. He can feel Pete's heart still racing against his chest and it worries him.
--
Patrick learns over the next few days, that nothing is simple and small when Pete is involved. Pete wants to invite three couples and three single friends and that's all fine, except for the fact that he also thinks the dining room needs not only to be aired out, but new furniture. Patrick tries to talk him out of it to no avail.
Pete grins at him excitedly. "It'll be great. We can go pick out new china and a new table together. Our first purchases as a sealed couple." He gives Patrick big eyes.
Patrick has to admit it does sound kind of nice, shopping together. He gives in much easier than he means to and Pete does a little shimmy of delight and picks out clothes for both of them to wear.
It's strange being outside the house with Pete all alone without his mother chaperoning. Pete touches him casually, a hand on his shoulder, arm around his waist, but nothing about it feels casual to Patrick. He keeps expecting someone to jump out and start screeching at them about proper behavior. Not that Patrick has much propriety left.
Pete says, "You're blushing. What's on your mind?" His hand is resting at the small of Patrick's back and it makes Patrick's face burn brighter.
No matter what his mother says, being fair skinned is not a plus. Patrick shakes his head. "Nothing."
Pete doesn't press him for answers, instead he ushers him into a softly lit store with soothing music playing in the background. A sales associate appears at their side as if by magic. She beams at them, eyes skipping over Pete's exposed arms. "Can I help you, sirs?"
"We're looking for a new dining set, large enough to seat twelve." Pete gives the woman a small smile.
She claps her hands in delight. "Of course, of course. My name is Bethany." She pauses meaningfully.
"Pete Wentz and this is Patrick." Pete hugs Patrick closer.
Bethany gives Patrick a quick, critical once over before her grin returns brighter than ever. "Master Wentz, I hope we can find something suited to your needs today." She turns around to lead them further into the store.
Patrick's never been the type to be attracted to shiny things, but he's a little bit awed by the gleaming surfaces, the gold gilding and the encrusting jewels. Pete gives most everything a bored glance until they get to a deep mahogany table that looks like it's more suited to seating 20 than 12. Pete stops in his tracks and the way his hand strokes over the shiny surface and follows the curve of the wood makes Patrick's stomach feel funny.
Bethany spots an opportunity for a sale and says, "A fabulous piece, perfect for entertaining and one of a kind."
Pete's eyebrows rise and Patrick can tell he's on the hook. He looks at the table himself. It's too large in his opinion, but it's certainly pretty and no doubt expensive. Pete turns to him and says, "Patrick?"
Pete's looking at him in question and it's uncomfortable to be put on the spot. Patrick mumbles, "It's pretty."
Pete smiles at him, quick and delighted. "I like pretty things. We'll take it."
Bethany beams at them both and goes on about the ornate chairs that come with the table and maybe they also want some new china for their party. Patrick just sort of stands near Pete and listens to him arrange for home delivery. He feels largely useless and it's not a feeling Patrick's used to. At home, his old home, he was amazingly helpful; his mother couldn't have ran their household without him. Pete doesn't need him to do anything, but Patrick is discovering in himself a need to be needed. He's used to it.
--
"Pete."
Patrick watches as Pete turns in the direction of the voice calling him. Patrick primarily remembers his wedding reception as a blur of smiling unfamiliar faces, but he instantly recognizes the man ushering his date over to their table. He puts down his fork and hastily wipes the corners of his mouth.
"Ray." Pete's voice is warm and he half rises out of his chair to greet the wild haired man.
Ray gives Pete one of those peculiar half hugs and gestures to the man at his side. "You remember Bob."
Pete smiles warmly and says, "As if I could forget such a handsome face."
The face in question turns red and Bob tips his head downward to avoid Pete's gaze. Ray laughs and wraps a large hand around Bob's nape, tangling in long blond curls. Patrick touches the reddish strands peeking out from beneath his hat unconsciously.
"Pull up a chair." Pete waves the waiter over and Ray orders drinks for himself and Bob. Patrick fidgets, pushing his french cut green beans around on his plate. He looks up to find Bob watching him with clear blue eyes. Bob gives him a rueful little grin, not much more than a curl of his lips and Patrick suddenly feels more at ease. He's not the only one adjusting to a new home, life and husband.
Ray and Pete are engaged in a lively conversation, but Patrick only understands about a fourth of what they are saying. Pete waves his hand widely to illustrate a point and Ray nods vigorously, hair bouncing up and down. Bob's watching Ray talk with a soft smile on his bearded face and Patrick is struck by the incongruous contrast between the facial hair and the soft, blond curls resting on Bob's broad shoulders. Bob catches the confusion on his face and shrugs one shoulder. "I started growing it out when I had nothing better to do and my mom thought added...something."
Patrick grins at how uncomfortable Bob looks and says, "Ray seems to think it adds something also." He immediately worries he's overstepped the bounds of propriety, but Bob just gives him a smug look and tucks a curl behind his ear. Patrick leans in close on impulse and asks, "Have you been back home yet?"
Bob shakes his head, smug look fading away. "The period of adjustment isn't over yet."
Patrick nods. He knew that; he was just hoping. He sighs forlornly and Bob echoes him.
"What's with all this sighing and pouty faces?" Pete's voice is light, but his eyes are serious and Ray's hand has found it's way back to Bob's hair again. Bob tips his head toward Ray's and Patrick shakes his head. Pete stares at him for a moment longer before saying, "Ray has graciously accepted our invitation to dinner."
"Oh," Patrick says, a bit taken off guard, "good." It is good. He'll have at least two people to talk to at the get-together.
--
Each invitation Patrick sends out comes back promptly and with a positive response, except the one that he sends to Michael Way. His never shows back up, but his name is listed as a guest on Alicia Simmons RSVP. Patrick frowns over the little card, but Pete just laughs and says, "Mikey probably lost his invitation five minutes after he opened it." Patrick shrugs it off and moves on to the next item on his list.
The night before the dinner, Patrick balls up in bed and freaks out. Pete curls up around him, just big enough to hold Patrick securely, and noses at the side of his face. Patrick swats at him and Pete laughs merrily.
"Awww, it's going to be so much fun, Patrick. You don't want to leave me all alone to play host, do you?"
Patrick's voice is muffled when he says, "You've done it before. I would just being standing beside you looking crazy."
"Looking adorable, you mean," Pete corrects. He bites Patrick's earlobe. "It's you and me, now, Patrick and there's no other person I would rather have at my side."
It continues to amaze Patrick that Pete actually means those words. If he didn't, Pete wouldn't have given Patrick his name, a piece of himself. Patrick struggles to turn around to face him and Pete obligingly loosens his grip so that Patrick can roll over in his embrace. He stares up into Pete's face and Pete looks back at him quizzically, seemingly puzzled by Patrick's sudden change in mood. Patrick doesn't explain, just leans up to kiss Pete's mouth softly. Pete immediately moves from puzzled to eager and his mouth opens quickly beneath Patrick's.
Patrick kisses Pete until he runs out of breath and curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of Pete's neck to keep him from moving away when the kiss comes to a natural end. It's the first time that Patrick's initiated kisses with the intent for more; usually, he just tilts his head and waits for Pete to give in to the urge to kiss him. He bites Pete's bottom lip because he likes it when Pete does it to him and Pete squirms against him, pushes his leg between Patrick's thighs.
The bedroom is cool and dark, but the covers soon end up kicked to the bottom of the bed in favor of the heat generated by their grinding bodies. Pete is never shy about making his appreciation of Patrick known and tonight he's especially vocal, body lifting into Patrick's touch, helpless and encouraging. Everything about Pete's body fascinates Patrick, but he hasn't been able to bring himself to touch Pete the same shameless way that Pete touches him. This time when Pete wraps Patrick's hand around his cock, Patrick does more than stroke him in the not quite fast rhythm he's learned over several nights, he leans down and takes the tip of Pete's cock into his mouth.
Pete freezes beneath him, body going tight, barely breathing. His cock feels huge in Patrick's mouth, pressing his tongue down and scraping along the sensitive skin of his palate. Patrick sucks tentatively and Pete shudders, hands curling into claws in the disarrayed covers. Pete tastes a little like salt and it makes Patrick's mouth water. He tries to remember what Pete does when he has him in this same position and he wiggles his tongue along the underside of Pete's cock. Pete makes a garbled noise and Patrick's dick throbs. Okay, he can totally understand the delight Pete takes in making him writhe all over the bed and make embarrassing noises.
Patrick closes his eyes and breathes carefully before bobbing his head up and down. Pete digs his heels into the bed and Patrick can feel how hard he's fighting not to thrust upwards. Perversely, it makes him want to break through Pete's control, makes him want to be better at pleasing Pete. He pulls back, licks over the head wetly and Pete curses, pushes him back before taking himself in hand. Patrick watches as Pete jerks himself roughly before coming over his own stomach.
"Shit. Shit." Pete's chest is heaving up and down, breathing harshly. Patrick slides back up Pete's body when Pete pulls weakly at him and Pete kisses him hungrily, pushing his hips forward against Patrick's even though he's already spent. "Patrick." Pete presses another messy kiss to Patrick's mouth. "Fuck me."
"What?"
Patrick pulls back, startled out of his pleasurable daze. Pete looks up at him with hazy brown eyes and repeats, "Fuck me," softly, hips restless beneath Patrick and just the thought of it, so scandalous, is enough to have Patrick coming between their bodies.
--
Pete has been staring at Patrick's mouth all morning and his intense regard is just one more thing making Patrick jittery as he tries to check last minute details, like making sure the cook doesn't add bacon bits to the steamed spinach and they have enough wine. As if it isn't enough that he remembers Pete begging him to do...do that to him.
"Come here." Pete's leaning up against the kitchen counter watching Patrick hum nervously about and talk to the cooks. Patrick looks around at all the people working to pull together a perfect dinner before giving in to his need to be close to Pete. Pete pulls him in against his body, Patrick standing between his legs. Pete kisses his forehead and just holds Patrick against his chest. It's incredibly soothing, unlike most of the times Patrick's been pressed against his husband. Pete strokes a finger over Patrick's side burns and says, "Everything is going to be fine. The cooks know which dishes are supposed to be vegetarian and what wine to chill. You need to stop working yourself into a frenzy."
Patrick nods obediently and Pete steers him out the kitchen and into the living area. Patrick loves the big couch that dominates the room and he's spent several evenings snuggled up with Pete in front of the big screen television that dominates the opposite wall. Pete clicks on the tv and then hands Patrick the remote to find something to watch. He flips mindlessly through channels too wired to actually settle on a show until Pete slides down to rest his head on Patrick's lap.
His hand automatically goes to Pete's hair and Pete rumbles agreeably when Patrick starts to pet him. The deep almost purr makes Patrick think it might be nice to have a pet around the house. The repetitive stroking motions and the soft background noise of the tv leech the extra energy out of him, leaving him just shy of worn out. Pete says something, but Patrick can't quite make it out before his eyes slide shut.
--
"Patrick, wake up. It's time to get dressed." Patrick blinks blearily at Pete; Pete smiles and tugs on his arm again. "Time to get dressed," he repeats.
"What?" Patrick sits up abruptly and looks at the large grandfather clock sitting in the corner. The guests are supposed to be arriving in less than two hours and Patrick hasn't even showered yet or picked out what he's going to wear. He gives Pete an accusing stare and Pete shakes his head at him.
"There's nothing to worry about. Dinner is almost done and our clothes are already laid out. You just need to concentrate on getting yourself ready." Patrick pushes up off the couch and tries to head to the kitchen, but Pete grabs his arm and pulls him back. "No, not that way." Pete wraps his arms around Patrick and frog marches him to the bedroom despite his many protestations.
Patrick gets him back by shutting him out the bathroom while he showers. "No," he tells Pete, "you're too distracting." Pete pouts at him, but Patrick holds firm. "There's like twenty other bathrooms in this place, go use one of them."
Pete shouts through the closed door, "There's only ten and a half baths!" Patrick smiles and turns the water on, drowning out anything else Pete might say.
--
Patrick keeps tugging on his hat; it's one of the many new hats Pete bought him and it's still too stiff to mold to his head the way Patrick likes. Pete takes his hand away from the brim and kisses his fingers. Patrick opens his mouth to reiterate just how ready his isn't when the doorbell pings. Patrick shuts his mouth with a click and Pete beams at him and says, "Our first guest as a sealed coupled." He hooks his arm through Patrick's and heads to the front door to greet the new arrivals.
Jerry is at the door helping a tiny dark haired man out of his over coat and the couple standing to the side watching looks up when Pete and Patrick enter the room. Patrick recognizes all three of them from the wedding, but he only remembers one name. He doesn't have time to fret over it though, because Pete says, "Ryan, Spencer, how nice to see you again. I trust everything has been well since we last spoke. You remember Patrick, I'm sure." Patrick pastes on a sickly smile.
Ryan gives him a small smile in turn and says, "Thanks for inviting us," his voice oddly formal. Spencer nods his head, eyes a cool, watchful blue. His arm is entwined with Ryan's, hand resting lightly on his forearm.
Patrick blinks. He remembers seeing them stand together like that, not the wedding reception, he's pretty sure, but somewhere. Before he can puzzle out where, Pete turns to the man that was struggling out his coat. "Brendon."
Brendon beams, much more expressive than his companions and says, "Pete, your home is quite large."
Pete laughs warmly and returns, "It's not the only thing of mine that's quite--" Ryan clears his throat pointedly and pulls Spencer closer to his side. Pete cuts off with a grin and a glance down at Patrick. "Of course, of course, come on in and make yourselves comfortable." The blond girl from the kitchen appears as if by magic with a heavy silver tray loaded with hors d'oeuvres and another boy with glasses of wine.
Brendon immediately snags a cracker off the platter and a chilled glass. Patrick watches as Ryan spends considerably more time before making his selection. Spencer whispers in his ear and points to several things, but Ryan shakes his head silently. Patrick feels a flutter of worry over their selections, but Spencer just sighs and pokes Ryan in the side in exasperation before selecting appetizers for both of them. Ryan doesn't protest just opens his mouth for a tidbit when Spencer offers it to him.
Spencer grins when he finishes chewing and asks, "Good?" Ryan nods and Spencer looks smug as he takes a bite of his own. Their interaction is easy and familiar even though Patrick doesn't think they've been married much longer than he and Pete.
Patrick wants to contemplate them some more, but the doorbell chimes announcing more guests arriving.
"Pete, motherfucker!" Someone crows and Patrick can see Ryan drop his head out of the corner of his eye. Spencer hands him a glass of water.
"Frank." Pete hugs the newcomer and turns to greet his wide eyed companion. "Gerard."
Gerard smiles crookedly, showing off small pointed teeth. He peers over Pete's shoulder. "Is Mikey here yet?"
"Not yet," Pete answers him and puts out his hand for Patrick. "Patrick, this is Gerard, Frank's name-bearer and Mikey's older brother."
Patrick manages to get out, "Nice to meet you." and Gerard says, "Likewise."
Patrick can see Frank fighting not to laugh in the background and Gerard turns to give him a questioning look. Frank grabs his hand and says, "You're adorable, Gee," and Gerard's cheeks blush pink.
Pete rolls his eyes at their antics and slides an arm around Patrick's waist. He whispers in Patrick's ear, "See, there's no need to worry about propriety with guests like these." Patrick glances behind them and Brendon is talking with his mouth full and waving his arms about while Spencer laughs at him and hides his face in Ryan's neck.
Frank might be smaller than Patrick, but he seems to take up a lot more space with his mischievous grin and obnoxious giggle. He reminds Patrick a lot of Pete. Frank, Brendon and Ryan quickly end up in an involved conversation that seems to involve Ryan scowling a lot and Brendon nodding along to whatever Frank's saying. Gerard and Spencer both appear confused and a little put out. Patrick smiles.
Ray and Bob arrive practically on top of Mikey and Alicia. Patrick only gets to send Bob the briefest of smiles before welcoming the other couple. Patrick can't believe it after interacting with Spencer and Ryan, but they are by far the most intimidating guests of the night and Patrick moves until he's standing behind Pete's shoulder. Maybe it's the way Mikey and Alicia unconsciously mirror each other, the ink running up both of their arms or the way they both turn dark eyes on Patrick when Pete says his name, but Patrick has to swallow before he tells them, "Welcome to our home." He remembers Mikey from the wedding because he stood up for Pete, but it does nothing to lessen the impact of his blank stare.
Alicia looks amused after a moment and says, "Don't be rude, Michael." Whatever Mikey's going to say is lost to speculation because Gerard spots him and rushes over to claim a hug.
Patrick breathes a sigh of relief when Mikey switches his regard to Gerard, his mouth softening from a hard line into a smile as he murmurs, "Gee," into his brother's black hair.
Gerard hugs Mikey tight before stepping back to beam at Alicia. "Alicia."
"Gerard." Alicia sounds cautious, but warm.
Frank says, "Now that we all know each others' names, maybe we can stop standing around beaming at each other."
"Nice to see marriage hasn't changed you, Frank." Ray's located a drink for himself and Bob. Bob's watching the interaction with a reluctantly intrigued expression. Patrick knows exactly how he feels.
Patrick sneaks away from Mikey and Alicia's vicinity as soon as possible and engages Bob in conversation. There's something about Bob that invites him to let his guard down in a way that not even Pete manages. Bob's watching Ray to Alicia, but he gives Patrick his full attention when Patrick approaches. Patrick asks, "Have you met everybody here before?"
Bob shakes his head. He lifts his glass in Ryan and Spencer's direction. "I remember seeing them at the Cotillion. Frank and Gerard have come to visit the house."
Patrick's eyes widen. That's where he remembers seeing Ryan and Spencer stand arm and arm. He leans in closer to Bob. "I knew I remembered them from somewhere else besides the wedding. Ryan was Spencer's escort." He shoots a quick look over at them. "How is that even possible?"
Bob lifts one shoulder, but doesn't add any speculation of his own. Now, Patrick is itching to know the story behind Ryan and Spencer. Bob says mildly, "They seem nice enough."
Patrick shrugs off his fascination with the Ross couple and asks, "Does Ray work with Pete?"
Bob shakes his head. "Ray has his own business. He sells instruments." Bob smiles. "He sold Pete your new piano."
"Oh, I--"
Pete taps the side of his glass and everyone looks over at him. "If everyone would join me in the dining room, dinner is about to be served."
Patrick stifles a giggle when he realizes he's seated at Pete's right side; the seating reminds him of the few crime novels he was able to sneak out of his his mother's room while she was away at work. He's Pete's right hand man.
Instead of the prayer Patrick's used to from home, Pete has a moment of silence so that everyone can say their own thanks privately. The calm is broken only by sounds of appreciation the few minutes after the first bite is taken and then Brendon somehow finds the will power to stop stuffing his mouth long enough to say, "This food is great. I think I'll go find the cook and express my appreciation personally." He waggles his eyebrows crazily.
Frank laughs, but Ryan only rolls his eyes. Patrick gets the feeling that he's used to the outrageous things that come out of Brendon's mouth. Spencer tries to take advantage of Ryan's distraction to stab at something on his plate, but Ryan bats his hand away irritably. Spencer glares briefly before seeming to think better of it and giving Ryan a wide eyed look complete with a pouty bottom lip. Ryan sighs and moves his arm out of Spencer's way. Spencer sends him a happy grin and Patrick is taken aback by the brightness of his smile.
Pete leans over and whispers in his ear, "Spencer has Ryan wrapped around his little finger." Patrick nods; he can see certainly see the truth in that statement.
Somewhere between Gerard spilling his lemonade into Frank's lap and Pete volunteering him to duel Brendon on the piano, Patrick realizes that while his new life is nothing like his old one at home with his mother, it isn't half bad.
He reaches over to take Pete's hand under the table and Pete gives him a startled look before beaming at him. Patrick smiles back briefly before the moment is broken by Frank exclaiming, "How fucking cute is that!"
Pete squeezes his hand briefly before turning away to insult Frank's mother.
No, Patrick takes a sip of water, not bad at all.