Feel Like Taking You Home {TABLE 39}
Summary: Boys kisses and clubs {table.}
Disclaimer: Don't own at all.
Pat followed after Garrett and Rachel sullenly. He doesn't even know why or how Garrett convinced him to come.
"I don't wanna third wheel on your date!" Pat was sort of throwing a fit.
"Pat, you haven't been out in ages! Come hang out with us," Garrett whines. He sort of sings, "Ryan will be there."
"I don't give a shit fuck about Ross," Pat snapped, because he really didn't.
Garrett raised his hands in defeat. "Whatever, man. You're still coming."
"I am not!" he shouts as Gary walks in to the bathroom.
Upon his return he says, "You are because I said you are. Panic will be there and you can mope and hang out with them all night." Pat huffs.
"I don't like them," he lies.
Garrett replies matter-of-factly, "Yea, ya do."
So, that's how. Pat whines inwardly as Garrett wraps his arms around Rachel - not that Pat doesn’t like Rachel or anything; he does. Rachel & Garrett are fucking perfect; he just hates being the third wheel. Gary picks out a low table in the back and Rachel decides, “We should get drinks.” Pat offers to go get them, if not just to get away. No one caught his eyes - not that he was really looking - all the way from the table, to the bar, and back. Rachel was rather grateful for her drink; - “Oh, thank god,” she sighed as Pat handed the glass over - she’d clearly had a bad day at work.
“Panic’s not here,” Pat pointed out to Garrett, just to have something to say.
“They’re on the way,” Garrett assured with a smirk. Pat rolled his eyes & spun his chair around to watch the people. Mostly couples were on the dance floor, it was nearly Christmas time. That’s means couples and family and all that bullshit. Pat doesn’t care for any of it. He’s just fine as long as he’s got his red iPod and trusty laptop. “Told ya,” Garrett whispered over Pat’s shoulder as Ryan and Brent walked into sight. Pat doesn’t care. He downs his drink & excuses himself to get another.
“I’ll go with you,” a strong voice calls. Pat can’t see the owner until Ryan takes a seat.
“Bren, how’s it going?” Garrett grins. Brendon shrugs & smiles jokingly before leading him & Pat to the bar. Pat doesn’t really know why Brendon may have wanted to join him at the bother, other than to get a drink. Pat hardly knows him, after all. They get order their drinks but have to wait; it’s a bit busy tonight.
“Pat? Right,” Brendon finally speaks. Pat nods silently. He, sort of, thinks Brendon is only asking to have something to say. He says nothing else and they finally get their drinks. This time, Pat leads them. The table is already missing Brent. Ryan seems to have been waiting for Brendon because seconds after they take their seats, “Brendon! Let’s go dance!” Ryan grips the boy’s wrist & yanks him towards the floor.
“Uh, we’re going to go dance too,” Rachel smiled apologetically but Pat ignored it & waved them away.
“Have fun,” he mumbled sarcastically. It was too loud in the club for them to hear him, so he got no response. Pat settles contently at his table and watches his friends and strangers dance. He smiles at the people who can’t dance but think they’re the shit, laughing at them inside. Someone - a waiter, Pat hopes - keeps bringing him drinks and he keeps drinking them. It’s got to be almost midnight when Ryan stumbles back to the table alone.
“Pat!” he squealed. “I have had so much to drink, man. It ain’t funny!” He grumbled, “Not even.” Pat didn’t laugh. He rarely found drunken people funny unless he was among them - though, the buzzing in his left ear and ringing in his right says he might be close.
Pat can't be mean to drunken Ryan, even if it would be a ton of fun, "Take a seat, Ross."
"Yea, okay. I can do that. I- I- Yea, I can do that," Ryan rambled, and continued rambling, as he took his seat and stole Pat's drink not so subtly.
"Nice," Pat said dryly. Ryan didn't reply and Pat wondered why he'd even returned to the table.
"Look! It's Alex!"
"Oh, joy," Pat scowled.
"Kirch!" Alex shouted in triumph.
"Hey, Greenwald," Pat grumbled. Alex gave him no other acknowledgement as he gripped Ryan's wrist. Alex is a rough guy.
"Let's go dance," he growled - trying to be sexy, Pat supposes. He watches the 'couple' go and accepts the drink this person he believes actually is a waiter offers. Pat wonders, since Ryan has now come and gone, who Brendon is dancing with. Then, he wonders why he even cares and decides to blame it on the drinks.
"Pat!" Rachel calls from the floor. She must be yelling loudly if he can hear her. "Come here!" she orders laughingly. Pat obliges, putting down his drink & walking up the few steps to the main floor.
"What's up?" he asks, suddenly in a bit of a better mood. It must be the bass beating at his feet, or the drinks coursing through his stomach, or the sheer euphoria given off by every person on this dance floor.
"Gary went out. Dance with me?" Pat took this as to mean Garrett had gone to grab a cigarette, get a drink, or use the bathroom - or some combination of the three. Pat agrees because of his newfound good mood. The song isn’t exactly slow but Pat really only knows how to dance two ways. One; by himself acting a fool and two; close. He pulls Rachel in and wraps his hands around her waist. Her hand’s go straight around his neck and Pat smiles. Rachel would probably be his best friend if Garrett didn’t already hold that place. Garrett’s also doesn’t whine. Pat hates whining. He and Rachel move to the beat. Quickly but still looking as intimate as her & Garrett always do. They’ve been dating so long the thought of kissing Rachel seems so foreign that Pat falters a step & they stumble. Pat blushes furiously but Rachel just giggles.
“Look, there’s Gary!” Pat shouts in relief, sort of shoving Rachel back to her boyfriend. Gary grins at Pat.
“Go find someone to dance with,” Garrett orders softly but loud, so Pat can hear him. Pat agrees; whether it's because of the drinks or because he just needs to get away, he doesn't know.
"Hey," Brendon says from behind him. Pat turns and smiles.
"Hey," he replies in the same tone.
"You- Uh, wanna dance?" Pat shakes his head instantly and Brendon's face falls.
"I can't," Pat sighs. Brendon smiles and fidgets with his drink. Normally Brendon would argue, forcefully, with an 'everyone can dance' and drag Pat to the dance floor whether he wanted to or not but not tonight.
Tonight he said, "We could go sit down." Pat bites his lip nervously but nods and follows after as Brendon goes down the steps, and then down another small set. Brendon finally picks a couch - it’s a small couch - and sits on it; Pat follows suit.
Pat opens his mouth, "Why-"
"I don't know," Brendon interrupts. Apparently, he knew Pat was going to ask why Brendon had wanted to sit down.
Pat nods, "Okay." He's wary and feels weird. What does Brendon even want?
"Brenny!" Greenwald screeches to a halt in front of them. "Come dance, babe!" and, like that, Alex is whipped Brendon away to dance with him and Ryan.
Pat doesn't care. He goes back to their vacated table and resumes drinking the drinks he's being offered. A conga line, a fucking conga line, is starting up and Pat doesn't even know. He secures himself in the chair by gripping the edge of it with his free hand because the room seems like it's started spinning. Pat knew it hadn't but his eyes couldn't seem to register that.
"Pat!" Greenwald grinned from, like, directly in front of him. Whoa, way to close.
"Wh- What do ya want?" Fuck, now he's slurring. How many drinks had he had? Pat grips the chair harder as he sets down his current glass.
"Please, come dance!" Alex cooed.
"I dun wanna," Pat grumbled.
"Oh, well. Brenny's all alone 'cause I like Ryan and is not fair." Alex gripped Pat's free wrist & yanked him toward the floor. Okay, guess he's going to dance. With Brendon.
"Hey!" Ryan shouted happily. Pat smiles what he sure is a very dopey like smile towards Ryan as Alex shoves him at Brendon.
"H- hi," Pat breathes as he turns his face and finds he's hardly an inch from Brendon's lips. Brendon smiles softly & sets his hands on Pat's waist, slipping a finger through each of the side belt loops. Pat's arms find their way around Brendon's neck and he feels a bit grateful this is a slow enough song that they don't have to move much. Brendon, sort of, pulls Pat closer, so Pat rests his chin on Brendon's shoulder. He might as well be holding Pat up because Pat's legs are starting to feel like jelly and that isn't helping his vertical position.
"Let's- Let's go," Brendon breathes huskily. Pat nods and lets Brendon take his hand. Brendon takes them back to the couch they'd been on before. Pat doesn't know why but he feels a bit disappointed; maybe he thought Brendon met let's go to my place. Pat's feeling the effects of his drinks again and has to sit back on the couch. He lets his head fall back against the wall & shuts his eyes tightly. It's suddenly very loud in the club. Brendon's face is full of concern but Pat doesn't can't see it. Come on," Brendon urges softly after a few minutes. He tugs on Pat's wrist & pulls him off the couch.
"Wha- Where are we-"
"You need coffee and a warm bed," Brendon instructs, wrapping an arm around Pat's waist to hold him up. Pat's arm slides over Brendon's shoulder & Brendon's other hand laces with it.
"Okay," Pat says faintly. He feels like maybe he's going to pass out soon and that wouldn't go too well.
"Brendon!" Ryan squeals from the floor. Brendon looks over to his best friend & hold back a smile as he receives a congratulatory thumbs up, instead rolling his eyes. Pat's eyes are shut as he lets his head fall onto Brendon's shoulder. Brendon's almost half a foot taller, so Pat's really comfortable. Brendon wouldn't complain either.
"Bring out my car?" Brendon asks, handing his keys to the valet. This place has a valet? Pat had missed that earlier due to his sulking. Brendon's black Cadillac shows up within minutes and Pat doesn't like Cadillac’s but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even think he can speak anymore. "Thanks," Brendon murmurs to the valet as he settles Pat in the front seat. "You good?" Pat nods but it's more a loll of his head than a nod.
Once at Brendon's apartment, Pat is feeling a bit self conscious and he doesn't know why but he's not sober to do anything about it anyway. Brendon settles Pat on the soft couch and starts the coffee pot before returning from his room with a blanket.
"The heat's broken," Brendon explains apologetically. Pat doesn't can't find the will to care. He actually thinks, and kind of hopes, Brendon is going to join him under the thin blanket that isn't helping much with the heat absence but right then the coffee pot decided to ding, letting Brendon, and Pat, know the coffee was done. "I'll get you a cup," Brendon mutters. Pat nods, again more of a loll, but Brendon's gone already and doesn't even see it.
"Thanks," Pat slurs as Brendon hands him the coffee carefully and steps back. Brendon nods, rather curtly, and folds his legs underneath him in the chair beside the couch. Pat keeps his eyes on the cup, sort of afraid to look anywhere else, and Brendon just contently watches Pat. "Bren?" Pat whispers, finally with a steady voice, after two more cups of coffee.
"Yea, Pat?"
"It's cold." Pat's voice may be steady now but his mind is still muddled. Without giving himself a chance to hesitate, he shot out of his chair & crawled under the blanket with Pat.
He slid his arms around the shorter boy's waist and pulled him closer as he whispered, "Sorry." Pat smiled a bit at the apology as Brendon rested his head on Pat's shoulder.
Pat would of whispered, "Don't apologize," in a soft caring voice, but he decided on a better, quicker approach. He, like Brendon, didn't let himself hesitate and lied down, pulling Brendon on top of him. Brendon's mouth opened a bit in surprise and Pat took advantage of this and wrapped a hand over Brendon's neck, pulling their lips together. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated but it was also warm and comforting; everything Pat wanted needed.
"Pat," Brendon sighed easily. Pat smiled against Brendon's lips as his hands roamed up the back of boys shirt. "It's late," Brendon murmured. For the last quarter of an hour or so the two boys had lied calmly, one on top of the other; Pat's hand in Brendon's shirt, and Brendon's hands tangled in Pat's too long hair.
"Hmm, would should get some sleep," Pat sighed, his lips ghosting over Brendon's. Brendon pulled Pat in and ran his tongue along the shorter boy's lips. Brendon hummed in agreement to idea of sleep. He rolled over, taking Pat with him. They settled, chest to chest, on the couch and Pat fell asleep first. Brendon didn't sleep. He, sort of, fell in and out of consciousness. He heard Ryan come home with Alex attached to his face, both not sober enough to notice Pat & Brendon on the couch. They'd, thank God, gone straight to Ryan's room and Brendon didn't hear another thing from them until the next morning.
"Ooh, look at this," Alex cawed. "Ryan!"
"Hm? Whas up?" Clearly, Ryan had just awakened.
"Look," Alex stage whispered. Ryan joined his might as well be boyfriend behind the couch and smiled when he saw his best friend curled up with none other than Pat Kirch.
"Leave them alone; they're cute." Alex pouted; he really loved waking people up, though. Brendon, after all, was awake. Alex just didn't know it. Ryan did though. "You know Brendon's not asleep?"
"Why not?"
"He doesn't really sleep," Ryan shrugs.
"Fine," Alex groans, heading to the kitchen. Ryan follows after him, jumping onto the counter & pulling the dark eyed boy into an early morning make out session. At least they'd already brushed their teeth.
"Pat," Brendon whispered, his breath falling over Pat's lips.
"Hmm?" Pat stirred a bit but didn't pull away. Brendon was glad for that.
"Les get up," he mumbled. Pat shook his head but let Brendon stand and pull him off the couch. Just to be difficult, Pat slumped into Brendon, making him stagger a bit. "Pat," Brendon whined. Pat chuckled and stood up properly. He smiled as Brendon took his hand and led them to the kitchen.
Ryan & Alex had abandoned their make out session to get coffee. They sat beside each other on the counter and were ignored when Brendon & Pat entered. Pat made coffee for them both while Brendon poured a bowl of cheerios. The couple took the counter space across from Ryan & Alex silently, drinking their coffee & sharing the cereal.
"How do you feel?" Ryan asked Brendon. Brendon was never good with hangovers, but he really hadn't had that much to drink last night anyway.
"I feel happy," Pat said, not realizing the question had been from Ryan and directed at Brendon. Ryan & Brendon had such similar voices, it was really his fault. Brendon chuckled and ruffled Pat's hair playfully.
"I feel like a foursome," Alex announced after they had finished their cereal. Ryan laughed & Brendon blushes. Pat didn't react.
"I feel like that wouldn't be terrible," Ryan said, still laughing because he was only joking. Brendon rolled his eyes, flipped off his best friend, and slid off the counter, pulling Pat with him.
"I feel like taking you home now."
"Mmmhm," Pat muttered. The idea of a foursome wasn't something Pat liked; hell, he hadn't even slept slept with Brendon yet.
"Call us when you're ready!" Alex called after them. Ryan only laughed harder.
"I don't even know why I'm friends with them," Brendon laughed as they slid out the front door.
Disclaimer: Don't own at all.
Pat followed after Garrett and Rachel sullenly. He doesn't even know why or how Garrett convinced him to come.
"I don't wanna third wheel on your date!" Pat was sort of throwing a fit.
"Pat, you haven't been out in ages! Come hang out with us," Garrett whines. He sort of sings, "Ryan will be there."
"I don't give a shit fuck about Ross," Pat snapped, because he really didn't.
Garrett raised his hands in defeat. "Whatever, man. You're still coming."
"I am not!" he shouts as Gary walks in to the bathroom.
Upon his return he says, "You are because I said you are. Panic will be there and you can mope and hang out with them all night." Pat huffs.
"I don't like them," he lies.
Garrett replies matter-of-factly, "Yea, ya do."
So, that's how. Pat whines inwardly as Garrett wraps his arms around Rachel - not that Pat doesn’t like Rachel or anything; he does. Rachel & Garrett are fucking perfect; he just hates being the third wheel. Gary picks out a low table in the back and Rachel decides, “We should get drinks.” Pat offers to go get them, if not just to get away. No one caught his eyes - not that he was really looking - all the way from the table, to the bar, and back. Rachel was rather grateful for her drink; - “Oh, thank god,” she sighed as Pat handed the glass over - she’d clearly had a bad day at work.
“Panic’s not here,” Pat pointed out to Garrett, just to have something to say.
“They’re on the way,” Garrett assured with a smirk. Pat rolled his eyes & spun his chair around to watch the people. Mostly couples were on the dance floor, it was nearly Christmas time. That’s means couples and family and all that bullshit. Pat doesn’t care for any of it. He’s just fine as long as he’s got his red iPod and trusty laptop. “Told ya,” Garrett whispered over Pat’s shoulder as Ryan and Brent walked into sight. Pat doesn’t care. He downs his drink & excuses himself to get another.
“I’ll go with you,” a strong voice calls. Pat can’t see the owner until Ryan takes a seat.
“Bren, how’s it going?” Garrett grins. Brendon shrugs & smiles jokingly before leading him & Pat to the bar. Pat doesn’t really know why Brendon may have wanted to join him at the bother, other than to get a drink. Pat hardly knows him, after all. They get order their drinks but have to wait; it’s a bit busy tonight.
“Pat? Right,” Brendon finally speaks. Pat nods silently. He, sort of, thinks Brendon is only asking to have something to say. He says nothing else and they finally get their drinks. This time, Pat leads them. The table is already missing Brent. Ryan seems to have been waiting for Brendon because seconds after they take their seats, “Brendon! Let’s go dance!” Ryan grips the boy’s wrist & yanks him towards the floor.
“Uh, we’re going to go dance too,” Rachel smiled apologetically but Pat ignored it & waved them away.
“Have fun,” he mumbled sarcastically. It was too loud in the club for them to hear him, so he got no response. Pat settles contently at his table and watches his friends and strangers dance. He smiles at the people who can’t dance but think they’re the shit, laughing at them inside. Someone - a waiter, Pat hopes - keeps bringing him drinks and he keeps drinking them. It’s got to be almost midnight when Ryan stumbles back to the table alone.
“Pat!” he squealed. “I have had so much to drink, man. It ain’t funny!” He grumbled, “Not even.” Pat didn’t laugh. He rarely found drunken people funny unless he was among them - though, the buzzing in his left ear and ringing in his right says he might be close.
Pat can't be mean to drunken Ryan, even if it would be a ton of fun, "Take a seat, Ross."
"Yea, okay. I can do that. I- I- Yea, I can do that," Ryan rambled, and continued rambling, as he took his seat and stole Pat's drink not so subtly.
"Nice," Pat said dryly. Ryan didn't reply and Pat wondered why he'd even returned to the table.
"Look! It's Alex!"
"Oh, joy," Pat scowled.
"Kirch!" Alex shouted in triumph.
"Hey, Greenwald," Pat grumbled. Alex gave him no other acknowledgement as he gripped Ryan's wrist. Alex is a rough guy.
"Let's go dance," he growled - trying to be sexy, Pat supposes. He watches the 'couple' go and accepts the drink this person he believes actually is a waiter offers. Pat wonders, since Ryan has now come and gone, who Brendon is dancing with. Then, he wonders why he even cares and decides to blame it on the drinks.
"Pat!" Rachel calls from the floor. She must be yelling loudly if he can hear her. "Come here!" she orders laughingly. Pat obliges, putting down his drink & walking up the few steps to the main floor.
"What's up?" he asks, suddenly in a bit of a better mood. It must be the bass beating at his feet, or the drinks coursing through his stomach, or the sheer euphoria given off by every person on this dance floor.
"Gary went out. Dance with me?" Pat took this as to mean Garrett had gone to grab a cigarette, get a drink, or use the bathroom - or some combination of the three. Pat agrees because of his newfound good mood. The song isn’t exactly slow but Pat really only knows how to dance two ways. One; by himself acting a fool and two; close. He pulls Rachel in and wraps his hands around her waist. Her hand’s go straight around his neck and Pat smiles. Rachel would probably be his best friend if Garrett didn’t already hold that place. Garrett’s also doesn’t whine. Pat hates whining. He and Rachel move to the beat. Quickly but still looking as intimate as her & Garrett always do. They’ve been dating so long the thought of kissing Rachel seems so foreign that Pat falters a step & they stumble. Pat blushes furiously but Rachel just giggles.
“Look, there’s Gary!” Pat shouts in relief, sort of shoving Rachel back to her boyfriend. Gary grins at Pat.
“Go find someone to dance with,” Garrett orders softly but loud, so Pat can hear him. Pat agrees; whether it's because of the drinks or because he just needs to get away, he doesn't know.
"Hey," Brendon says from behind him. Pat turns and smiles.
"Hey," he replies in the same tone.
"You- Uh, wanna dance?" Pat shakes his head instantly and Brendon's face falls.
"I can't," Pat sighs. Brendon smiles and fidgets with his drink. Normally Brendon would argue, forcefully, with an 'everyone can dance' and drag Pat to the dance floor whether he wanted to or not but not tonight.
Tonight he said, "We could go sit down." Pat bites his lip nervously but nods and follows after as Brendon goes down the steps, and then down another small set. Brendon finally picks a couch - it’s a small couch - and sits on it; Pat follows suit.
Pat opens his mouth, "Why-"
"I don't know," Brendon interrupts. Apparently, he knew Pat was going to ask why Brendon had wanted to sit down.
Pat nods, "Okay." He's wary and feels weird. What does Brendon even want?
"Brenny!" Greenwald screeches to a halt in front of them. "Come dance, babe!" and, like that, Alex is whipped Brendon away to dance with him and Ryan.
Pat doesn't care. He goes back to their vacated table and resumes drinking the drinks he's being offered. A conga line, a fucking conga line, is starting up and Pat doesn't even know. He secures himself in the chair by gripping the edge of it with his free hand because the room seems like it's started spinning. Pat knew it hadn't but his eyes couldn't seem to register that.
"Pat!" Greenwald grinned from, like, directly in front of him. Whoa, way to close.
"Wh- What do ya want?" Fuck, now he's slurring. How many drinks had he had? Pat grips the chair harder as he sets down his current glass.
"Please, come dance!" Alex cooed.
"I dun wanna," Pat grumbled.
"Oh, well. Brenny's all alone 'cause I like Ryan and is not fair." Alex gripped Pat's free wrist & yanked him toward the floor. Okay, guess he's going to dance. With Brendon.
"Hey!" Ryan shouted happily. Pat smiles what he sure is a very dopey like smile towards Ryan as Alex shoves him at Brendon.
"H- hi," Pat breathes as he turns his face and finds he's hardly an inch from Brendon's lips. Brendon smiles softly & sets his hands on Pat's waist, slipping a finger through each of the side belt loops. Pat's arms find their way around Brendon's neck and he feels a bit grateful this is a slow enough song that they don't have to move much. Brendon, sort of, pulls Pat closer, so Pat rests his chin on Brendon's shoulder. He might as well be holding Pat up because Pat's legs are starting to feel like jelly and that isn't helping his vertical position.
"Let's- Let's go," Brendon breathes huskily. Pat nods and lets Brendon take his hand. Brendon takes them back to the couch they'd been on before. Pat doesn't know why but he feels a bit disappointed; maybe he thought Brendon met let's go to my place. Pat's feeling the effects of his drinks again and has to sit back on the couch. He lets his head fall back against the wall & shuts his eyes tightly. It's suddenly very loud in the club. Brendon's face is full of concern but Pat doesn't can't see it. Come on," Brendon urges softly after a few minutes. He tugs on Pat's wrist & pulls him off the couch.
"Wha- Where are we-"
"You need coffee and a warm bed," Brendon instructs, wrapping an arm around Pat's waist to hold him up. Pat's arm slides over Brendon's shoulder & Brendon's other hand laces with it.
"Okay," Pat says faintly. He feels like maybe he's going to pass out soon and that wouldn't go too well.
"Brendon!" Ryan squeals from the floor. Brendon looks over to his best friend & hold back a smile as he receives a congratulatory thumbs up, instead rolling his eyes. Pat's eyes are shut as he lets his head fall onto Brendon's shoulder. Brendon's almost half a foot taller, so Pat's really comfortable. Brendon wouldn't complain either.
"Bring out my car?" Brendon asks, handing his keys to the valet. This place has a valet? Pat had missed that earlier due to his sulking. Brendon's black Cadillac shows up within minutes and Pat doesn't like Cadillac’s but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't even think he can speak anymore. "Thanks," Brendon murmurs to the valet as he settles Pat in the front seat. "You good?" Pat nods but it's more a loll of his head than a nod.
Once at Brendon's apartment, Pat is feeling a bit self conscious and he doesn't know why but he's not sober to do anything about it anyway. Brendon settles Pat on the soft couch and starts the coffee pot before returning from his room with a blanket.
"The heat's broken," Brendon explains apologetically. Pat doesn't can't find the will to care. He actually thinks, and kind of hopes, Brendon is going to join him under the thin blanket that isn't helping much with the heat absence but right then the coffee pot decided to ding, letting Brendon, and Pat, know the coffee was done. "I'll get you a cup," Brendon mutters. Pat nods, again more of a loll, but Brendon's gone already and doesn't even see it.
"Thanks," Pat slurs as Brendon hands him the coffee carefully and steps back. Brendon nods, rather curtly, and folds his legs underneath him in the chair beside the couch. Pat keeps his eyes on the cup, sort of afraid to look anywhere else, and Brendon just contently watches Pat. "Bren?" Pat whispers, finally with a steady voice, after two more cups of coffee.
"Yea, Pat?"
"It's cold." Pat's voice may be steady now but his mind is still muddled. Without giving himself a chance to hesitate, he shot out of his chair & crawled under the blanket with Pat.
He slid his arms around the shorter boy's waist and pulled him closer as he whispered, "Sorry." Pat smiled a bit at the apology as Brendon rested his head on Pat's shoulder.
Pat would of whispered, "Don't apologize," in a soft caring voice, but he decided on a better, quicker approach. He, like Brendon, didn't let himself hesitate and lied down, pulling Brendon on top of him. Brendon's mouth opened a bit in surprise and Pat took advantage of this and wrapped a hand over Brendon's neck, pulling their lips together. The kiss was messy and uncoordinated but it was also warm and comforting; everything Pat wanted needed.
"Pat," Brendon sighed easily. Pat smiled against Brendon's lips as his hands roamed up the back of boys shirt. "It's late," Brendon murmured. For the last quarter of an hour or so the two boys had lied calmly, one on top of the other; Pat's hand in Brendon's shirt, and Brendon's hands tangled in Pat's too long hair.
"Hmm, would should get some sleep," Pat sighed, his lips ghosting over Brendon's. Brendon pulled Pat in and ran his tongue along the shorter boy's lips. Brendon hummed in agreement to idea of sleep. He rolled over, taking Pat with him. They settled, chest to chest, on the couch and Pat fell asleep first. Brendon didn't sleep. He, sort of, fell in and out of consciousness. He heard Ryan come home with Alex attached to his face, both not sober enough to notice Pat & Brendon on the couch. They'd, thank God, gone straight to Ryan's room and Brendon didn't hear another thing from them until the next morning.
"Ooh, look at this," Alex cawed. "Ryan!"
"Hm? Whas up?" Clearly, Ryan had just awakened.
"Look," Alex stage whispered. Ryan joined his might as well be boyfriend behind the couch and smiled when he saw his best friend curled up with none other than Pat Kirch.
"Leave them alone; they're cute." Alex pouted; he really loved waking people up, though. Brendon, after all, was awake. Alex just didn't know it. Ryan did though. "You know Brendon's not asleep?"
"Why not?"
"He doesn't really sleep," Ryan shrugs.
"Fine," Alex groans, heading to the kitchen. Ryan follows after him, jumping onto the counter & pulling the dark eyed boy into an early morning make out session. At least they'd already brushed their teeth.
"Pat," Brendon whispered, his breath falling over Pat's lips.
"Hmm?" Pat stirred a bit but didn't pull away. Brendon was glad for that.
"Les get up," he mumbled. Pat shook his head but let Brendon stand and pull him off the couch. Just to be difficult, Pat slumped into Brendon, making him stagger a bit. "Pat," Brendon whined. Pat chuckled and stood up properly. He smiled as Brendon took his hand and led them to the kitchen.
Ryan & Alex had abandoned their make out session to get coffee. They sat beside each other on the counter and were ignored when Brendon & Pat entered. Pat made coffee for them both while Brendon poured a bowl of cheerios. The couple took the counter space across from Ryan & Alex silently, drinking their coffee & sharing the cereal.
"How do you feel?" Ryan asked Brendon. Brendon was never good with hangovers, but he really hadn't had that much to drink last night anyway.
"I feel happy," Pat said, not realizing the question had been from Ryan and directed at Brendon. Ryan & Brendon had such similar voices, it was really his fault. Brendon chuckled and ruffled Pat's hair playfully.
"I feel like a foursome," Alex announced after they had finished their cereal. Ryan laughed & Brendon blushes. Pat didn't react.
"I feel like that wouldn't be terrible," Ryan said, still laughing because he was only joking. Brendon rolled his eyes, flipped off his best friend, and slid off the counter, pulling Pat with him.
"I feel like taking you home now."
"Mmmhm," Pat muttered. The idea of a foursome wasn't something Pat liked; hell, he hadn't even slept slept with Brendon yet.
"Call us when you're ready!" Alex called after them. Ryan only laughed harder.
"I don't even know why I'm friends with them," Brendon laughed as they slid out the front door.