Work Text:
The summer between his junior and senior year, Patrick decides he needs a job. He'd worked at Jewel over Christmas last year, but that was a special kind of hell he hopes to never have to repeat. He's not job-hunting for long though. Two days after the start of his search he finds himself with an interview at a diner and a day after that he's hired. The diner is in Wilmette, which is farther than Patrick's mom would have liked, but whatever, Patrick can totally ride there on his bike. It isn't that far. And besides, if he saves enough maybe he can buy a used car and his mom won't have to worry about these things anymore.
The first thing that Patrick likes about the diner is that there isn't much of a dress code. The green shirt with the mermaid in the corner isn't something he plans on wearing outside of work, but besides that he's allowed to wear jeans and sneakers and even his hat, so he's not about to complain.
The second thing he likes is that there are other people his age working there. He meets Joe on his first day. Nancy, the woman who interviewed him, doesn't so much introduce them as she says, "Joe, this is Patrick, you're going to be training him today. Call if anything explodes." before running out the door.
"Hey," Joe says. "Don't mind Nancy, she's usually a little frazzled." And then after a moment, "Hardly anything ever explodes around here."
Joe explains how the sections are divided up, shows him where to find everything in the back storeroom, and a half a dozen other things Patrick's not sure he'll remember come tomorrow. Before he knows it the day's nearly over.
Joe tells him he's going to take smoke break and invites Patrick outside with him. He offers Patrick a cigarette, which Patrick declines, and asks what kind of music he's into. They're getting along great and then Joe asks him if he's got a girlfriend.
"Um. No. I don't really date...girls." Patrick stammers, hoping he hasn't just lost his new friend.
"Oh, that's cool. Boyfriend?" Patrick shakes his head and Joe just continues on with, "So, do you play anything?"
"I guess I kinda play a little of everything. But I really like the drums."
"That's awesome, dude. You should try out for my band. We need a drummer."
Of course it turns out that Joe only works, on average, one day a week and most of the time Patrick is stuck with the girls, but it's nice to know he's got a dude friend there sometimes.
--
Despite the fact that The Mermaid is within walking distance of his house, Pete has never been a huge fan of the place. He'll stop by sometimes when Joe's working, but that has more to do with the fact that Joe sometimes hooks him up with free food. And since Joe works a total of about 8 hours a week, it's easier to just drive the three miles to the place that has the awesome vegan chili instead.
Pete's not sure how they even end up at to the Mermaid that day, but he suspects it has something to do with the lack of gas in his car. He seems to have good timing, though, because Joe's working. There's also a guy Pete doesn't recognize over by the counter. Strawberry blond hair peaks out from underneath his trucker hat and he's laughing as he talks to one of the waitresses. His smile alone is enough to knock Pete on his ass.
Pete's already having visions of long makeout sessions in the backseat of his car when Joe steps into his line of sight, disrupting his daydreams.
"Are you guys going to actually order something or should I just put in an order of fries and lose your check?"
Chris digs around in his pockets and pulls out a dollar and some change before he says, "I'll have a soda?"
"Dude, who's the new guy?"
"Oh, that's Patrick. Remember? He's the one I was telling you about."
"Seriously? That's awesome." Pete's eyes light up and he stares in Patrick's direction. He thinks it must be fate. Joe has been talking about this kid for the past two weeks. "You should bring him over. Like, right now."
"Dude, please don't scare him away. I have to work here."
"I won't, I promise. But seriously, I need you to work your Trohmagic, okay? This is love at first sight, I know it."
"Yeah, that's what you say every week."
"Fuck you. This boy could be the mother of my children."
Chris just sighs and says, "I think we may need to have a talk about how gay sex actually works, Pete."
--
Towards the end of the school year Patrick went to an Arma Angelus show with some friends. Hardcore had never really been his thing, but Arma is something of a big deal with the kids at his high school, so he figured he might as well give it a shot. As it turned out, watching a dude (hot though he may be) scream unintelligible lyrics at him wasn't really his idea of a good time. But hey, no one could say he didn't give it a shot. And at least now he knows what people are talking about.
So when Joe says, "Hey, my friend Pete's here," and gestures in the direction that Pete Wentz is sitting, Patrick is more than a little surprised. He's also a little impressed when Joe says, "He's the one I'm starting the band with. He wants to meet you."
"Yeah, sure," Patrick nods and Joe hands him their drink order. A few minutes later Patrick is setting two cokes down on their table.
He turns to Pete and says, "Hi, I'm Patrick. Joe said you wanted to meet me."
"Yeah, he hasn't shut up about how you need to be in our band. You play drums?"
"Yeah. I mean, I play a lot of things, but the drums are my first love."
"Awesome." Pete grins.
"Well, um," Patrick says, feeling a little awkward. "I gotta get back and check on my tables. Nice meeting you."
"Wait," Pete says, catching his wrist as he turns to leave. "Did it hurt?"
Patrick looks at him, confused. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Pete's friend shaking his head and burying his face in his hands.
"...did what hurt?" he asks, gently pulling his wrist out of Pete's grasp.
"When you fell from heaven?"
Patrick feels his face flush and tries to keep from scowling before he turns right around and walks back to his section to check on his tables. He goes from being moderately impressed to really fucking annoyed pretty soon after that.
Later, after they leave, he tells Joe, "Your friend is a fucking douche."
Joe looks at him, confused. "Yeah, I know," he says after a moment. "But it should've taken you a couple hours of knowing him to figure that out. Not a couple of minutes."
--
The next time Pete ends up at the Mermaid, the hostess seats him in Patrick's section with a wink and he figures that Joe must have worked his magic after all. At least he's good for something if he's not getting Pete free food.
Pete sees Patrick give an exasperated sigh as he walks from his previous table over to his own.
"You again, huh?" Patrick says, looking down at Pete skeptically.
Pete smirks and says, "That is not the excellent customer service I have come to know and expect from this dining establishment, Patrick."
"What can I get for you, sir?" The sarcasm is practically dripping off the last word that comes out of Patrick's mouth.
Pete pages through the menu, "Um, I don't know, gimme a minute. Oh, and can I borrow a quarter?"
"No," Patrick says firmly.
"Damn." Pete sighs and puts on his best sad puppy face. "I wanted to call your mom and thank her."
Patrick crosses his arms and looks annoyed.
"I'll be back in a few minutes when you figure out what you want."
Pete thinks about calling after him that he already knows what he wants as Patrick's walking away from him, but decides it's probably better if he doesn't push his luck.
Two visits later Pete has still gotten absolutely nowhere. Patrick was completely unimpressed by, "Did you clean your pants with Windex?...Because I can see myself in them." And he was definitely not wooed by "I lost my teddy bear, can I sleep with you?"
And okay, Pete knows the first one is a little sleazy -- but the second one has totally worked for him before. (He's not sure why, he thinks girls get stuck on the image of him needing a stuffed animal to sleep and overlook the sexual innuendo.) He's honestly never had to work this hard for just a date -- hell, even a smile would be something at this point -- but that just makes him want Patrick more.
--
Pete's sitting on the cold concrete steps outside of the Mermaid. It's grey and shitty outside, like it wants to turn into a thunderstorm, but the clouds just can't muster up the effort. Joe's sitting next to him smoking during the last ten minutes of his break. They started out tossing around possible names for their new side project but nothing is sticking.
Pete says, "Top five desert island albums," because that's always a good way to stay entertained. At least for a few minutes.
"You and fucking High Fidelity man," Joe says, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Okay, uh, Viva Hate..."
They both list off their albums, Joe going back and forth on his last two while Pete ticks off his with practiced ease. He's thinking over his list and wishing something new would come out to make him reconsider when he sees Patrick biking up to the diner. He chains up his bike, and as he starts making his way towards them Pete is trying to decide on his opening line.
"Not a fucking word," Joe says before Patrick gets within hearing distance. "I don't want to have to listen to him bitch for the last few hours of my shift."
Pete mumbles, "Killjoy," under his breath.
He'd been considering going with a simple, 'Hey, come here often?' but he manages to bite his tongue and only smiles at Patrick when he approaches. And well, Patrick smiles at Joe at least. It seems that Pete's the invisible man if he's not being waited on. But Pete's not discouraged. There's plenty of summer left; he can totally wear Patrick down before the end of it.
"Hey, man. You're early," Joe says.
Patrick shrugs. "I woke up early and I didn't have anything better to do so..."
"So you came to work? Dude, you need to get some hobbies." He takes a last drag on his cigarette before stubbing it out against the step. "Maybe you could join a band or something?"
Patrick rolls his eyes. He leans against the railing and kicks at a pebble.
"How long before you go back?" he asks.
Joe pulls out his cell phone to check the time and says, "Couple minutes. Top five desert island albums. Go."
"Watch High Fidelity recently?" Patrick asks, a smile on his lips.
"This one's idea." Joe gestures towards Pete.
Pete shrugs when Patrick looks at him skeptically. "It's a good movie."
"Yeah it is," Patrick says. He sounds annoyed, almost. Like it pains him to have to agree with Pete about something.
When Pete hears Patrick list Figure 8 amongst his five, he barely manages to keep himself from jumping in with his own opinions on the greatness of Elliott Smith. With his luck Patrick would swap it out for something else just to be spiteful.
"And for the last one, um. The Blueprint by Jay Z."
"Seriously?" Joe asks. "I like Jay Z and all, but top five?"
"Have you ever even listened to it? He's totally changed the face of rap. If I could make an album half as good as that I'd be happy with my life."
"So we should be on the look out for PStump's hip hop debut, is what you're saying?"
"Fuck you, you know what I meant."
Joe stands, brushes his hands off on his pants and the two of them head back inside. Joe at least offers a wave and a "Later, dude," before the door shuts. He can't say the same for Patrick.
As Pete gets in his car, he thinks this Patrick situation just got a whole lot more serious. He's willing to admit to himself that he just wanted in Patrick's pants at first. But now. Fuck. He needs this kid in his life. He thinks he could be happy just listening to Patrick talk about music for hours on end. Okay, that's a lie. He still wants there to be makeouts. The point is, he needs to amp up his game.
--
Pete has shown up half a dozen times in the past two weeks. And those are just the times Patrick knows about. He wonders if the girls are getting sick of him, too.
Today he thinks he might actually be getting a reprieve. There's only an hour of his shift left and so far there's no sign of Pete. But thirty minutes later, Maya says, "You've got a table," as she walks past him. Patrick looks back and sees Pete grinning back at him.
Pete orders a cup of coffee, like always, and a slice of apple pie. Patrick is silently hoping that Pete doesn't decide to stay for hours on end like he has in the past. Patrick would really like to leave on time today.
Patrick's got ten minutes before he can leave and Pete's trying to grab his attention. He points to his coffee cup and makes a "come here" gesture Patrick sighs and goes to grab the coffee pot before walking over.
He's in the middle of pouring when Pete starts grinning at him like an idiot.
"What?" Patrick asks.
"I made you come with one finger." Pete smirks. "Think of what I could do with five," he says, wiggling his fingers at Patrick.
Patrick grits his teeth and silently counts to five in his head. Pouring hot coffee on a customer's lap is not the way to keep his job.
"Here's your check," Patrick says, as evenly as he can before he walks away.
The next time Pete shows up, Joe's working. Patrick serves Pete his cheese fries and tries his best not to make eye contact as he sets them down.
As he's walking away Pete calls after him, "Do you hear that, Patrick? It's the sound of my heart breaking."
"So have you decided about the band yet?" Joe asks later, after Pete's gone.
"I'm still thinking about it," Patrick lies. He doesn't say that if joining Joe's band means dealing with Pete on a consistent basis he wants nothing to do with it.
--
Insomnia has been kicking Pete's ass more than usual. He figures he maybe got an hour of sleep last night, and that's being generous. He doesn't know where he's going when he stumbles out of his front door, car keys in hand, and somehow he's surprised when he ends up at the Mermaid. He hadn't meant to go there -- Patrick's probably not even working, and Pete's stopped pretending there's any other reason he goes -- but he just knew if he spent another minute staring at the walls of his bedroom he was going to lose it.
The hostess seats him at his usual table with a concerned look, but doesn't say anything. Pete slides into the booth, pulls his hood up, and puts his head down on the table. It's earlier than Pete's ever been there before and the diner is noisy with the sounds of the morning breakfast rush. When he thinks about it, he's actually surprised he got his usual booth.
He wonders if it's actually his, if they keep it for him, waiting for him to come along and try (and fail) to win over Patrick. He wonders if the waitresses are laughing at him too, like his bandmates, every time he strikes out. He wouldn't blame them; he'd probably do the same. Besides, coming from them it's not personal, probably just something to keep work interesting. Oh hey, it's that idiot who doesn't know when to give up. The one who still won't take the hint even after he's been rejected half a dozen times. Pete's starting to realize it's probably hopeless, but somehow can't bring himself to stop trying.
"Uh, Pete?" he hears a familiar voice say and he looks up, surprised to find Patrick standing there.
"Hey," he says wearily. "Can I get a cup of coffee?"
Patrick's got that same concerned look on his face that the hostess had, but he just says, "Sure, I'll be right back with that."
Pete's head is loud with ideas and phrases, words he needs to get down before they disappear. Maybe if he can empty them all out he'll finally be able to sleep.
He mumbles, "Thank you," as Patrick sets down the cup of coffee in front of him. "Hey, do you have a pen I could borrow?" he asks, as Patrick's turning to leave.
Patrick digs around in the pocket of his apron for a moment before handing one over to Pete and then taking off to attend to his other tables. Pete spends the next several hours scribbling bits and pieces of lyrics down on napkins while he drinks his bottomless cup of coffee, which Patrick stops by to refill every fifteen minutes or so. Patrick lingers after Pete's fifth refill and Pete looks up from his cluster of napkins.
"Are you okay?"
Pete considers lying; Patrick's the type of person who would actually worry, even if he just thinks of Pete as Joe's friend or that annoying regular.
"Not really," he says eventually.
"You should eat something. This much coffee on an empty stomach probably isn't healthy."
Pete shrugs. He does a lot of things that probably aren't healthy. Not get enough sleep, drink too much coffee, eat nothing but junk, hold out hope that adorably awkward drummers will like him back and join his band. His therapist would probably say it's a pattern or something.
"I'm not hungry," he says, turning back to his writing.
The next time Patrick comes by his table, he sets down a plate with two slices of toast and a few pats of butter.
"On the house," he says. "You really should eat something."
He walks away before Pete has the chance to respond. Pete's been there so long that the lunch rush has started and he knows Patrick has better things to do than check up on him. He takes a couple bites of toast as he finishes his coffee and asks for his check the next time Patrick walks by.
He digs into his pocket and pulls out a few crumpled bills, ends up leaving Patrick approximately a two hundred percent tip. It only amounts to about four dollars anyway, and he figures Patrick deserves it for putting up with him for the past however many hours.
He gathers up his collection of napkins and shoves them into the pockets of his jeans. He's about ready to leave and at the last minute he scribbles a note to Patrick at the bottom of the check. He probably won't even notice, but Pete's got to try anyway. He leaves without saying goodbye. Last he checked, Patrick was busy with a table of six. He doesn't need Pete bothering him.
--
Patrick collects the check from Pete's table, thinking it's strange that he left without saying goodbye. Patrick sighs, regretting the fact that they'd been so busy. He kind of wanted to sit down and ask Pete what was wrong.
The napkin on the corner of the table catches his eye and he picks it up, and yeah, it's one of the ones Pete was writing on earlier. He shoves it in his apron pocket. Pete probably didn't mean to leave it behind. He'll just save it to give back to him next time.
Walking back to the register he notices Pete's handwriting at the bottom of the check.
if i could rearrange the alphabet i'd put u and i together ♥ pete.
Patrick sighs. Pete seemed miserable the entire time he was there, barely spoke to Patrick and he still left this? Patrick really doesn't understand him. He hands the receipt and cash to Maya who's running register today, and hopes she won't notice Pete's little addition. He can tell when her eyes travel to the bottom of the slip that he's got no such luck.
"Patrick," she says as she looks up at him. "This is possibly the most disgustingly adorable thing I've ever seen."
"Yeah, well why don't you or one of the other girls go out with him then? Maybe then he'd stop bothering me."
Maya just stares.
"What?" Patrick asks. "I mean, it wasn't funny the first time, let alone the first five. I don't know why he keeps doing it."
"That's so harsh," she says under her breath, clearly annoyed. "I can't believe you won't even give him a shot."
"Wait...what?" Patrick stammers, because he must have heard that wrong. Maya gives him that blank look again, like she thinks he's an idiot.
"You don't really think he's doing all that stuff just to annoy you do you?" Now it's Patrick's turn to stare in disbelief. "He likes you, idiot."
"No he doesn't," Patrick spits out automatically. Because Pete couldn't possibly. There's just no way. Hot older guys in bands don't make fools of themselves trying to get Patrick to go out with them. It just doesn't happen.
"Yeah, he really does."
"No he doesn't," Patrick repeats. "It's just a joke. He hits on everyone."
"Patrick. Have you ever seen him even talk to any of the girls?"
"I…" He stops. Now that he’s actually thinking about it, he hasn't. He can’t even remember a time when someone other than him even waited on Pete. "...no."
"He comes here to see you, dumbass."
"I...I didn't know that," he mumbles.
Later, as he's about to leave, Patrick finds Pete's napkin in his apron. He'd almost forgotten about it. He shoves it into the pocket of his jeans. He's not going to read it, he tells himself, just save it until the next time he sees Pete. But when he gets home, his curiosity gets the better of him. He uncrumples it, smoothes it out a couple of times and reads the words Pete scrawled earlier.
My core is copper and I'd kill to make it gold.
It makes Patrick's breath catch in his chest. If Pete can write like that why the hell is he wasting his time with stupid pickup lines?
--
Pete spends the next few days arguing with himself about whether or not he should just give up on Patrick. He's starting to think that there's nothing he can do to win him over. Maybe if he gets some distance, he'll get over him. Joe might still be able to convince him to join their band and they can become friends and forget there was ever a time that Pete spent his afternoons bugging him at work, trying to get Patrick to go out with him.
He lasts a week before he cracks.
Everyone's hungry after practice and before he even thinks about what he's doing Pete's suggesting the Mermaid. Everyone piles into his car and soon enough Pete finds himself at his usual table.
Patrick's smiling when he walks over to take their order, and Pete's stomach flip-flops at the thought that maybe that smile could be for him.
"Hey," he says to Pete, as if he were the only one there. "Haven't seen you in a while."
"I know," Pete says. "Missed this place though. I guess I just couldn't stay away."
And then Patrick's back to being Patrick-at-work, pulling his notepad out of his apron and taking their drink orders.
"Oh hey, do you have a Band-aid?" Pete asks, before Patrick turns to leave. "I scraped my knee falling for you."
Chris gives him this look like, "You just can't help yourself, can you?" and Pete thinks, no, I really can't.
"I'll...be right back with your drinks," Patrick says before he walks off.
Jay and Adam aren't even trying to hide the fact that they're laughing at this point. Pete kind of hates his bandmates. He slumps in his seat and pulls his hoodie up over his head. He doesn't know what made him think this was a good idea.
When Patrick comes by the table again, he says, "Here you go," sliding what looks like a small piece of paper over to Pete. He doesn't say any more about it, instead tells them about the specials and asks if they're ready to order.
Pete looks down at the table after Patrick leaves. It's a band-aid. There's a little smiley face drawn on it in black marker. Pete smiles so hard his face hurts. Jay looks at him, mouth agape.
"That line actually worked?" Adam asks.
"Ha!" Pete laughs, feeling smug. He tucks the band-aid into his wallet behind his driver's license, glad he didn't give up after all.
--
Patrick is willing to consider the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Maya was right about Pete. Especially after he saw the way Pete smiled when Patrick brought him the band-aid yesterday. It was something that seemed like it should have been happening in a cheesy romantic comedy rather than Patrick's actual, everyday life. Still, it happened and Patrick was there to witness it.
He's still a little uncertain on how to proceed with these new Pete developments. That smile might not have been for him after all; he can't know for sure. He figures his best bet is to go to Joe for a second opinion. He's friends with Pete; he would know.
"Oh my god, dude. It's about time you caught on. He wants to like, have all of your babies. Or something. I don't know how it works with dudes."
To be honest, Patrick is pretty much stunned to have gotten such an outright confirmation. It's just that...those pickup lines were so bad he figured Pete had to be joking. He feels bad thinking that Pete was just some skeeze who thought it was funny to hit on his server. He feels even worse when Joe tells him that Pete's bandmates started taking turns coming with him just so they could watch him strike out with Patrick.
He makes the decision to try his hand at some flirting the next time Pete stops by the diner. He's nervous just thinking about it, but figures he can't possibly be any worse at it than Pete is. He gets his chance two days later when Pete shows up by himself in between the lunch and dinner rush. The place is otherwise dead so Patrick takes the opportunity to sit down in the booth across from him.
Pete looks up from his french fries and says, "Fancy meeting you here."
Patrick rolls his eyes. "Okay, I know the french fries are good, but they aren't that good. Don't you have anything else better to do?"
Pete pours more ketchup out onto his plate and says, "Nah, not really. Besides..." he leans in and says quietly, like it's a secret, "It's not really the fries that keep me coming back."
Patrick ignores the flush he feels rising in his cheeks and just says, "Uh huh," as he steals one of Pete's fries.
"Tell me about this band you and Joe are starting."
Pete's eyes light up and he starts in about how tired he is of the hardcore scene and how homophobic everyone is and on and on and on. Patrick's only half listening as he toes off one of his sneakers and slips his foot underneath the pant leg of Pete's jeans. Pete stumbles over his words at the first touch of Patrick's sock covered toes against his leg and Patrick has to keep from smirking a little bit. Maybe he's not so bad at this flirting thing.
The conversation drifts to Patrick's musical interests and Patrick pretends that he doesn't notice how Pete's left hand has been moving slowly closer to his right one until they're almost touching. Pete absentmindedly draws shapes on the back of Patrick's hand with his fingers as he talks. Like touching Patrick is the most natural thing in the world, like they've known each other for years. When Pete eventually stops they're not quite holding hands. Pete's is just resting on top of Patrick's. That totally doesn't count.
However.
There's more going on here than just two dudes hanging out, and Patrick's pretty sure than anyone walking by would be able to see it. When they come to a lull in the conversation, Patrick thinks this would be a good time for Pete to stop screwing around and actually ask him out. Or at the very least do something a little more direct than all this ridiculous fourth grade flirting. But the grade school flirting is better than the bad pickup lines, so maybe it's a trade off.
Pete does not ask him out. He doesn't say anything at all. He just sits there, grinning his stupid grin, like just being with Patrick is enough to make him happy.
This goes on for a few minutes until Torry calls, "Patrick, you have a table."
Patrick slips his sneaker back on before he gets up. As he's about he leave he says, casually as he can, "Talk to you later." It's no big deal, he can totally flirt with Pete and then get on with the rest of his day without thinking about it.
And then Pete smiles at him and says, "Promise?" and Patrick knows that Pete's all he's going to be thinking about for the rest of the afternoon.
"Yeah."
--
The next day Patrick's phone rings at precisely four o'clock. He doesn't recognize the number, but something makes him answer it anyway.
"Patrick? Hey, it's Pete."
Of course it is.
"How did you get my number?"
"Oh, Torry gave it to me. She gave me your work schedule too. Your coworkers are maybe a little too forthcoming with your information. Imagine if I was some creepy stalker."
Patrick doesn't really have to imagine too hard.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to maybe hang out for a little bit before you start your shift?"
Patrick's shift starts at five o'clock. Pete knows this. It's not exactly a date but Patrick can work with this. Even if it means he has to get ready for work a half hour early.
"I'll meet you there at 4:30," he says and hangs up.
As Patrick rides his bike to the diner, he contemplates the fact that Pete Wentz from Arma Angelus is stalking him at his place of employment. Maybe some day they'll get to hang out some place that is not the diner. Maybe.
Pete's already seated in his normal booth, scribbling into a notebook when Patrick joins him. He slides in the booth across from Pete, who looks up at him and grins.
"So, is there a reason you couldn't have asked me for my phone number? You know, like a normal person?" Patrick asks.
"But what if you didn't want to give it to me?" Somehow, it sounds completely logical when Pete says it.
A few minutes later, Maya sets down a vanilla milkshake and two straws in front of Pete.
Pete picks up one of the straws and Patrick asks, "What's the other for?"
Pete blows the paper off the end of his straw at Patrick, and then says, "Duh, you." And okay, Pete is getting better at this. Patrick was definitely wooed by that. But only a little.
Patrick very pointedly does not drink at the same time as Pete. Because well, this is not 1950 and he is not wearing a poodle skirt. Adorable shit like that doesn't actually happen. Besides, if the girls see they will never let him live it down. He does have to work in this place, after all.
--
Patrick's about to start his shift and Pete's about to leave. He gets up, following Patrick out of the booth. When Pete tells Patrick he doesn't want to bother him during work, Patrick just shoots him a skeptical look.
"Since when has that stopped you?"
Pete shrugs.
The truth is that Pete's mom has been complaining about him not being home for dinner for the past week. It's one thing when he's at a show or at practice but it's apparently another when he's cheating on her home cooking with the diner down the street. He doesn't tell her it's not the food he goes for, it's the company, because then there would be questions. He's not quite ready for there to be questions just yet.
So yeah, he wants to spend as much time with Patrick as possible but he also doesn't want to incur his mother's wrath. Which is why he thinks offering to give Patrick a ride home is the best of both worlds. It's not like he was eavesdropping or anything, he just happen to be walking by when Maya asked Patrick if he could stay late.
"Why, what's up?" Patrick asks. Pete's paying for his milkshake up at the register.
"Dana called out. Do you think you could stay until 11?"
"Sure, just let me call my mom."
And Pete sees his opportunity right there.
"Do you need a right home? You shouldn't be riding a bike that late at night."
"He's right, you know," Torry chimes in, suddenly appearing over Maya's shoulder. Pete always knew Torry was his favorite. After Patrick of course.
Patrick makes a face like he knows they're right but he doesn't want to accept. "You were about to leave. You're going to come back just to give me a ride home?"
"Dude, I live like two minutes away. It's no problem."
"Okay, okay sure. That'd be awesome, thanks." Patrick smiles. Pete can't help himself when he wraps his arms around Patrick in a tight hug.
"See you later," he whispers. Patrick's blushing and pulling his phone out to call his mom when Pete finally walks out the door. It's possible that Pete can't keep from grinning the whole drive home.
--
When Pete shows up 10:45, there are a couple of stoners in Maya's section, and an older guy who Patrick is pretty sure is homeless in Torry's, but otherwise the diner is empty.
Patrick has already refilled all the salt and pepper shakers, ketchup bottles and napkin holders in his section. He's waiting behind the counter, counting down the minutes until he can go home when Pete sits in front of him.
"Did you miss me?" he asks, spinning back and forth on his stool.
"No," Patrick lies. He's certainly not about to concede that he spent four of the last six hours thinking about how Pete's arms felt wrapped around him. He expects Pete to turn on the sad puppy eyes or something equally ridiculous, but instead he just grins.
"It's not nice to lie, Patrick."
"I have to go...do a thing," Patrick mumbles before turning around and hiding in the kitchen until he can stop blushing. When he gets back, Pete is trying to see how many full rotations he can make with one push off from the counter.
"Could you stop that?" Patrick asks. "It's making me dizzy."
Pete grabs onto the counter and comes to a stop. "Sorry."
"You didn't have to get here so early, you know."
"It might surprise you to learn I'll take my Patrick time however I can get it."
Patrick does not say that they could have a lot more time together if Pete would just ask him out already. He just thinks it really hard. He could probably speed up this whole process if he took the plunge and asked Pete out himself but well. Pete's the one who's been practically stalking him, he should be the one to man up and ask Patrick out. Also, it's possible that Patrick is the slightest bit nervous.
--
Maya tells Patrick he can leave a few minutes early, that he doesn't have to wait until exactly eleven, and he soon finds himself in Pete's car.
Before they pull out of the parking lot, Pete says, "I almost forgot," and reaches into the backseat to dig around for something. When he rights himself, he's holding a cassette tape. "Joe told me you were into Bowie."
"Yeah." Understatement of the year.
Pete pops the tape into the player and after few clicks they're listening to the first track of 'Space Oddity.' They don't talk much on the drive, with the exception of Patrick giving directions. Patrick thinks Pete could have saved himself a lot of trouble if he had opened with, "So I hear you like Bowie?" instead of that stupid 'fell from heaven' line.
"Thanks for the ride," Patrick says as they pull up in front of his house.
Pete smiles. "No problem."
Patrick thinks, that this wasn't actually a date or anything so there's no need for him to be this nervous. Except that Pete is totally putting the car in park and shutting off the engine and that is classic end of date behavior. He's maybe a little annoyed that he only gets the drive home part and not the actual date part, and then Pete's running his fingers over the back of Patrick's hand and it's kind of hard to think about anything else.
"Um, so my family's going on vacation so I won't see you for like a week."
"Oh, okay." Patrick feels his heart sink. So much for going on that date any time soon.
"But, I was wondering if I could call you?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."
"Awesome." Pete grins. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket and hands it to Patrick.
"I thought you already had it?" Patrick says as he saves his house number and cell number to Pete's contacts.
"Just your house number. Besides, I could have totally gotten your cell number from Joe but I thought it would be better if I asked this time."
"Thanks," Patrick says as he hands the phone back. "I appreciate that."
Pete smiles at him.
"I should go, before my mom starts wondering where I am."
"Okay."
It takes him a second before he gathers up the courage to kiss Pete on the cheek as he's saying goodbye. And so what if he gets out of the car and into his house as fast as humanly possible? That's totally normal. Patrick thinks maybe if he keeps telling himself he is not being courted by Pete Wentz, eventually it'll be true. Maybe. But probably not.
--
Patrick expects Pete to call once, maybe twice while he's away.
He calls at least once every single day, sometimes more when he knows Patrick isn't working. Patrick tries to make sure there's no one around when he answers his phone. It's not his fault he can't help smiling every time he sees Pete's number show up in the little display window.
They talk about everything and nothing. Patrick complains about customers, tells Pete about the awesome things he's found at his favorite used record store. Pete talks about his band, and on a few occasions, the lyrics he's been writing. He tells Patrick he misses him. Patrick blushes wildly and changes the subject even though there's no way Pete would know.
It's the night before Pete comes home when he asks, "Are you doing anything tomorrow?"
"Working all day," Patrick says, a little sadly.
"Like that's ever stopped me before."
Patrick laughs. "Okay, then. Guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"I can't wait," Pete says before they say goodnight.
--
The next day, it rains. All day. It started out as a light drizzle, an annoyance for Patrick as he biked to work, but after the lunch rush passes, it's pouring non-stop. Then the thunder starts. The slow trickle of customers dwindles as the day goes on. Patrick looks up every time he hears the door open and eventually Torry notices.
"Expecting someone?" She smirks.
"No," Patrick says bitterly, grabbing a rag before he goes to wipe down the counter.
They haven't had a customer for hours when the door swings open and Pete bursts through. His hair and his shirt are drenched. He makes a beeline for Patrick, nearly knocking him over as he wraps his arms around him.
"Missed you," he whispers against Patrick's neck. Patrick can feel the rain drops falling from Pete's hair onto his skin and he shivers.
Maya looks at Pete and raises an eyebrow. "Why is he soaked and you guys aren't?"
"Don't ask," Joe tells her.
"Get off of me, you're getting me all wet," Patrick says belatedly, pushing him off.
"But Patrick, didn't you know? I'm a thief and I'm here to steal your heart."
Patrick tries his very best to pretend like he isn't completely charmed. "You're an idiot. Follow me and I'll get you a towel and a dry shirt."
And then suddenly the two of them are alone in the back room. Pete is toweling off his hair, and when he's done he pulls off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor.
Patrick stammers, "Oh, um..." because Pete is wet and shirtless and really fucking hot.
Pete wipes off his shoulders and chest, and Patrick just stares. Seriously, it's not fair. Pete is hotter than any human being has a right to be. Patrick had only just figured out he was into guys, and then Pete came along. He is so far out of his depth. He hands Pete the shirt and tries to stop staring.
Pete says, "Thanks," as he takes it, but he just puts it and the towel on a shelf next to some large containers of mayonnaise.
He walks towards Patrick, hands settling on Patrick's waist. "Is it okay if I kiss you?" Patrick nods in response because he really doesn't trust his voice right now.
It turns out Pete is a really good kisser. When he leans back, Patrick whispers, "Wow," and then he's blushing because he hadn't actually meant to say that out loud. Pete just grins at him.
There's a clap of thunder and the lights flicker. A moment later they're standing in complete darkness.
Patrick sighs, "I guess we should go back and check on everyone else?"
Pete, it seems, has other ideas. He slides his hands from Patrick's waist into the back pockets of Patrick's jeans.
"I'm sure they're fine. I think we should stay put until the lights come back on."
Patrick opens his mouth to argue and Pete takes the opportunity to kiss him again, tongue slipping into his mouth, and well, it's not like Patrick is going to push him away. That would just be stupid.
--
Pete heard the footsteps coming before the door even opened, so he's not all that surprised when Andy walks through the door shining a flashlight on the two of them. They were hardly doing anything scandalous, so he doesn't care that they got walked in on. Well, he minds that he has to stop kissing Patrick, but he's certainly not going to be ashamed or anything. Besides he figured Andy, or whoever, would have the good sense to see that they were busy and turn back around.
Andy shakes his head as he shines the flashlight away from them. "Put a damn shirt on, Pete."
Pete grabs the shirt off the shelf and pulls it on. "Stop being a damn cockblock, Hurley." He crosses his arms and glares at Andy. "Can we help you with something?"
"The girls said there were more flashlights back here."
"And what, you drew the short straw?" Pete asks. He can just imagine them out there, playing rock-paper-scissors for who had to be the one to interrupt them. Although, he has the feeling that if it was up to the girls, they probably would have just made do with the one. They're on Pete's side. Joe was probably bitching about being afraid of the dark or some bullshit.
"I volunteered, douche. It's not like I haven't walked in on you before."
Pete really hopes there's enough light for Andy to see his scowl, because it is fucking epic. He's about to tell Andy he can walk right back out, fuck the flashlights.
"Um," Patrick interrupts awkwardly. Andy turns towards him, shining the light in his eyes before pointing it away. "I think there are some over there, by the first aid kit."
"Sorry dude, thanks."
--
Pete reaches for him the second they're alone again.
He nuzzles his face against Patrick's neck and murmurs, "Sorry, sorry."
"For what?" Patrick asks, even though he doesn't particularly care. He'd kind of like to stop talking; there was enough of that when Andy was getting the flashlights.
"I heard him coming; I just didn't want to stop kissing you."
"Oh." Patrick blushes almost as much as he did when Andy walked through the door.
"You're cute when you blush though."
And now if possible he's blushing even more. His face is practically on fire and Pete can probably feel it.
"You're doing it right now, aren't you? Stupid blackout, wish I could see you." He's still talking against Patrick's neck, making these little vibrations against his skin. It tickles a little but it also feels sort of awesome. However.
"Less talking, Pete. More kissing." And Pete fucking laughs, hot breath against his neck, and Patrick maybe gasps a little bit when Pete's mouth finally touches his skin.
It feels good -- really good -- the way Pete drags his teeth over the sensitive skin on Patrick's neck. But Patrick knows when he's being given a hickey, okay? He hasn't made out with that many people, but it's kind of obvious the way Pete's just going over the same spot again and again. Right now, it's pretty much all Patrick can do to just grab onto Pete's waist and try to hold back the soft moans that keep escaping from his mouth.
Except that...everyone is going to be able to see. Patrick's mom is going to see and oh god, he's going to have to suffer through questions about a girlfriend and a safe sex lecture, and he's going to die of embarrassment before he ever gets to lose his virginity.
And then Pete's kissing him again, and all thoughts that don't have to do with Pete's tongue in his mouth go out of Patrick's head. A moment later, Pete's hands are resting at the top of Patrick's jeans and he asks, "Can I touch you?"
"Yes. Yes, please," Patrick says between kisses and then Pete is undoing the button of his jeans and sliding his hand under the waistband of Patrick's boxers.
Pete's hand is on his dick, and Patrick knows this is going to be over embarrassingly fast. He buries his face in Pete's chest, mumbles, "Fuck, fuck," as he comes all over Pete's fist.
Patrick still has his face in Pete's chest when Pete says, "I've wanted to do that practically since I met you." That should come off as totally creepy, really it should. But when Patrick looks up, now that his eyes have adjusted to the dark once more, he can see Pete's smile. And he can't help smiling back. He can also feel Pete's hard on pressed up against him.
"I'm so going to get fired," Patrick says as he zips his pants back up. He pulls Pete around behind the shelf they were just leaning against. "Just in case we get interrupted again."
"I really don't think..."
"Just in case."
Patrick presses Pete up against the wall as he kisses him, his hands going underneath Pete's too small t-shirt. When he goes for Pete's zipper, Pete makes a startled sound.
"Whoa. You -- you really don't have to," he says, but Patrick does anyway.
He's just glad for the dark and he hopes that Pete can't tell that he actually has no idea what he's doing. He pulls Pete's jeans open and shoves at them until they fall in a heap at his feet. Patrick rubs Pete's hard-on through his underwear and Pete makes this soft little whimpering sound. Patrick thinks, okay, I can do this. He figures it can't be that much different from when he jerks himself off.
Patrick holds his breath as he slides his fingers underneath the elastic of Pete's underwear and tugs them down over the swell of Pete's ass. And wow is Patrick ever glad that he came first, because he might have just come in his jeans otherwise. He brings a hand to his mouth, licking it before he curls it around the base and strokes Pete a little bit.
Pete makes these noises. Patrick's pretty proud of himself.
Pete sounds like he's getting close so Patrick slides down to his knees and presses soft kisses to Pete's stomach and scrapes his teeth over one of Pete's hip bones as he jerks him off. And apparently Pete was closer than Patrick had anticipated, because he comes sooner than Patrick is expecting -- all over Patrick's shirt.
Patrick kind of wants to cry because, Oh my god, did that seriously just happen? There are people in the next room and they are all going to know.
But then Pete's mumbling, "Sorry, sorry, oh my god. I'm sorry, Patrick, I didn't mean to." And he sounds so genuinely worried that Patrick can't help but rest his head against Pete's hip for a moment and just laugh because the entire situation is just ridiculous.
When he stands up a moment later, he walks straight over to the laundry bin, pulling the shirt off as he goes. He buries it underneath some aprons covered in tomato sauce and hopes to god that nobody notices. The only other clean shirt he can find is a size too big, but it beats the alternative. When he turns around Pete is standing right behind him.
"Hey, I wanted to kiss you and you ran away."
"Yeah, well. This idiot I was jerking off came all over my work shirt, so I had to get a clean one." Patrick's not actually mad or anything, it's more like he's realizing that this is what being with Pete is going to be like.
"I said I was sorry," Pete says, hopefully. He hooks his fingers into Patrick's belt loops and tugs him closer. "Can I still kiss you?"
"Yeah, I guess," Patrick says as he leans in.
--
When they finally walk back out through the double doors Patrick half expects catcalls or cheers, or something else equally humiliating. But Torry just says, quiet enough for only Patrick to hear, "Have a hard time finding the extra shirts?"
Patrick can feel his face get hot and is thankful for the dark. "Something like that," he mumbles.
He sits down at the counter, Joe sitting on one side of him, Pete standing next to him on the other. Although Pete's not so much standing next to him as he's hanging off of him. Not that Patrick minds.
There are several different conversations going on around him and Patrick's not paying attention to any of them. He's vaguely aware that Pete seems to be talking to Joe about him. He thinks he hears the word 'boyfriend' getting tossed around and that piques his interest. He puts down the napkin he was fiddling with and looks over at Joe. He's about to say something when the lights flicker once and come back on.
Of course, Patrick thinks. Because what he really needs right now is for his coworkers and all of Pete's friends to see his red face, swollen mouth and the giant hickey that he's certain Pete gave him. Patrick seriously entertains the possibility that God hates him.
Joe's sees it first.
"Holy shit," he says, not at all subtle. Patrick looks around quickly, but thankfully no one's really paying attention. Joe whispers, "Come on, I'll lend you my hoodie."
Patrick manages to disentangle himself from Pete long enough to follow Joe back to the booth where they left all their stuff and hopes that he pulled off being stealth.
--
Pete only got a glimpse of the hickey before Patrick went and covered it up with Joe's hoodie. He's a little bummed that Patrick doesn't want to show off his handiwork, but whatever, he'll get a better look at it later. Andy walks over and sits down next to him, a serious expression on his face, and Pete can tell whatever he's about to say he doesn't want to say around Patrick.
"So, is he even legal?"
"I..." Pete thinks. He knows Patrick's still in high school, and that's about it. "...should probably find out about that."
"Seriously?" Andy says, exasperated. Whatever, he hardly sees Andy these days, he's the last person who should be complaining about having to put up with Pete and his possibly underage boyfriend.
And there's the second problem. Pete's been thinking of Patrick as his boyfriend for oh, about the last fifteen minutes or so, but he thinks should probably confirm this with Patrick sometime in the near future. Maybe he can take care of that the same time as the "by the way, are you legal?" conversation. He really, really hopes Patrick is legal because if not then they definitely broke some laws in the backroom.
"Shut up," Pete says before walking away.
Joe and Patrick have been talking since Patrick went over to get Joe's hoodie. Pete's pretty certain that Joe is trying for approximately the twenty-seventh time to get Patrick to join their band.
"Just try out, what's the harm?" Suspicions confirmed.
"I'll try to stop by next week, okay?"
Joe is ecstatic. "Pete, I think we found ourselves a drummer."
"Awesome, dude. Hey, could we have a few minutes?"
"No problem," Joe says before wandering off.
Pete sits down and takes a deep breath. As he looks at Patrick he notices the hickey peeking up from underneath the hoodie. Patrick's mouth is still a little swollen and it's making Pete want to haul him across the table and kiss him again. But that's not what he should be doing right now. Focus, he thinks.
"Okay, we should have a talk," Pete starts. Patrick looks at him like he's about to stab him with some silverware. This is definitely not okay.
"If you spent two fucking months trying to get my attention and you're going to tell me you don't want to date me I swear to god, I will end you."
"Wow, okay. I guess that answers that question." Patrick's still looking at him with that murderous look in his eye so he figures he should explain further. He says, a little sheepishly, "I just wanted to make sure you wanted to be my boyfriend before I went around telling everyone that you were."
"Oh." Patrick's expression softens. He unclenches his fist and reaches out for Pete's hand, threading their fingers together. "Yeah. I really do."
"Um, just one more thing. This is a little after the fact, but, uh...how old are you?" Patrick stares at him and for a second Pete thinks murderous-rage-Patrick is going to make a reappearance.
Instead he just looks down, says quietly, "I thought you knew."
Pete can feel his chest tighten. Please, please, he thinks, after everything he went through don't let something stupid like age keep them apart.
Patrick looks him the eye and says, somber tone in his voice, "I'm 15."
Pete feels all the blood drain from his face. He's going to jail. Forget that, he let a fifteen year old jerk him off in the backroom where he works. He's going to hell.
Patrick stares at him for approximately ten seconds before bursting out laughing.
"You should've seen your face!" Pete kicks him under the table. Hard.
"I'm 17, dumbass. I can't believe you fell for that. Joe and I are in the same grade. I thought you knew."
Pete contemplates the fact that his boyfriend is a douche. He's got some douche tendencies himself so he figures they'll probably be okay.
"Asshole. I'm telling all the waitresses to ask you about the giant hickey I gave you."
Patrick is still snickering a little, and he lets go of Pete's hand to wipe the tears away from his eyes.
"Come here," Patrick says finally, as he leans across the table. Pete does the same, and they meet in a kiss.
As he gets up from the table Patrick asks, "You gonna drive me home?" Because apparently his shift ended sometime around when he was busy having a good laugh at Pete's expense.
"Dude, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let you ride your bike home in this weather?" The rain has mostly stopped as this point, but still, it's the principle of the thing.
Patrick just smiles. As they're leaving, Pete's got an arm around Patrick's waist and Patrick's got a hand tucked into the back pocket of Pete's jeans.
Torry's grinning like a maniac when they walk by. Pete knew he liked her for a reason. Maya just smirks, and says, "Took you long enough."
Patrick tugs his hat down as he says, "Shut up." Pete kisses him on the cheek because he's really fucking adorable when he's embarrassed. But also just because he can.
--
Joe makes jokes about being best man at their wedding on the drive to Patrick's house.
"I can totally see it now, two little grooms on a vegan wedding cake. It's beautiful, actually."
"Trohman, you need to shut your face," Patrick tells him.
"Whatever, dude. You would've never gotten together without me." Which isn't entirely true. Torry couldn't have been cheerleading for them harder if she'd had actual pom-poms. And Maya definitely helped with the initial realization. "Do you know this kid had no idea you were into him for like, what? A month?"
Joe is really lucky he's in the backseat where Patrick can't reach him.
They come to a stop light and Pete looks at him, bewildered. "I really didn't think I was being subtle. I've been told I'm pretty bad at subtle, actually."
"Those were really bad pickup lines. How was I supposed to know you were serious?"
From the back, Andy chimes in with, "Told you."
"Fuck you," Pete calls back to him. "You weren't even there." He threads his fingers in Patrick's and kisses his knuckles, letting go when the light finally changes.
Patrick appreciates Joe's role in matchmaking, and Andy seems like an okay dude now that he's not shining a flashlight in Patrick's face, but as Pete pulls up in front of Patrick's house he really wishes they were both elsewhere. He could probably get away with making out with Pete for a good fifteen minutes or so before his mom called to ask where he was.
They hold hands as Pete walks him up to his front door and, well, it's not as good as making out in the backseat of Pete's car, but is still makes Patrick smile a ridiculous amount.
Pete hooks his fingers in Patrick's belt loops, tugs him close and says, "Hey, have I mentioned that I really like you?"
Patrick rolls his eyes. "You know, you actually haven't. We could've been making out weeks ago if you had."
"Sorry," Pete laughs, "I'll try to do better from now on." He cups Patrick's face in his hands as he leans in and Patrick sighs into the kiss.
It's only a little after 9, and Patrick's sure his parents are still awake. But whatever, he'd rather be kissing Pete now and have to explain once he gets inside. He's going to have to tell them about Pete sooner or later.
In the end, it's Joe who interrupts, rolling down the window and catcalling from the car. Pete flips him off and turns back to Patrick.
"Do you have to work tomorrow?"
"No," Patrick tells him.
"Awesome, do you wanna come over and like, play video games and make out? I promise I'll take you out on real date eventually..."
Patrick doesn't even let him finish before he's saying, "Yes."
He grabs Pete by the front of the shirt and kisses him again. They don't stop until they hear Andy's voice yelling, "Don't make me turn a hose on you."
Pete laughs, kisses him one last time and says, "I'll call you tomorrow," before finally turning to leave.
By the time Patrick gets to his bedroom, he's got a text from Pete.
miss u <3, it says.
Patrick texts back.
yeah, i know. :)
Tomorrow is going to be awesome.