damagereport | FIC: The Cure to Growing Older - Joe/Patrick

Patrick was glad his mom wasn't home when he got in, because the sound of him trashing his room would probably have freaked her out almost as much as hearing him cry into his best friend's t-shirt.

---

Neither Cathie nor Patricia really understood what had happened when the boys stopped speaking, although there were unspoken theories she was convinced they shared. Patrick flat-out refused to celebrate his sixteenth birthday at all. He pulled the wrapping from his presents, said 'Thank you' and kissed his mom on the cheek, and then went back to his room, leaving them all on the floor.

From what Cathie had said, Joe had been walking around in his own little world, barely acknowledging anyone. When someone tried to ask him about Patrick he walked out of the room; while anyone asking Patrick about Joe was told to 'mind their own fucking business' – even Patty. Patrick had never cursed at her like that before.

She knew they'd had fights in the past, but this time felt so different; she didn't think they were going to be able to have some water fight in Cathie's yard and patch things back together, this time.

---

Andy held out his Cheetos for Joe to share, and tilted his head when Joe scrunched his nose and looked away.

"You okay, dude?"

Joe just nodded.

"Don't seem it." He dropped down onto Pete's couch beside the kid and gave him a nudge.

"It's nothing... just... dumb, that's all."

"It's getting you down, though, huh?"

"Just. Just sentimental crap, man."

"Shoot. I could use a laugh."

Joe half-smiled and shrugged. "It's kind of like... my ex-best friend's birthday, today."

"That Patrick kid you used to know?"

"Yeah. That Patrick kid... He's seventeen today."

"Miss him?"

Joe just dropped his gaze to his lap and shrugged again.

"You never, I mean... have you thought about getting in contact with the guy? It's been a hell of a long time since you talked about him..."

"Can't. Not after a year."

"Why not?"

"I just can't. I mean, like, he stopped talking to me for a reason."

"And there's no such thing as water under the bridge?"

Laughing miserably, Joe muttered, "Not that bridge."

"Jesus, kid, what did you do?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Oh, c'mon, man – this matters or you wouldn't be telling me about it."

"Andy, I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

"Sorry, dude. But I think you need to suck it up and apologise. Whatever happened. Just apologise and let it go."

Joe shook his head. "I'd just get humiliated. He's not gonna forgive me."

---

A few weeks later, Joe was in Borders looking for a CD Andy said they had there and which he hadn't been able to find locally. He was getting kind of annoyed, because some ass seemed to have bought it before he could get his hands on it.

"Can I he – ? Shit. It's... shit."

Joe froze.

"Sorry. Didn't... I didn't recognise you with, uh. With the hair... But. Yeah. If you need help you can get assistance at the register."

Joe just nodded and stared at the Interpol CD in his hands. "Didn't know you worked here..."

"Yeah... well. See you around."

Not likely. Patrick clearly wanted to be out of there sometime around, oh... yesterday. Joe put the CD back down and left the store.

---

Patrick spent the next twenty minutes in the stock room having an episode. He couldn't breathe right and he was sweating suddenly, even though the air con was on full-blast.

Joe was here. He'd spoken to him – said real, actual words to his face. He couldn't quite believe it. Not after such a long, long time. The last time they'd laid eyes on each other was across the bar at a Racetraitor show. Joe had been there with the drummer – Andy? – and Patrick had been there with the guys from his recently defunct band; he'd looked up from putting his change back in his wallet to find huge, round eyes staring at him pitifully. He'd still been angry at the time – livid, even – and it was all he could do not to throw his drinks across the bar at him. Instead, he'd handed over the cans to his friends, and left. After just a couple of months it was all still too fresh to deal with rationally. It still felt like a betrayal – like his whole world wasn't what he'd been led to believe all his life – and it was all Joe's fault. He'd wanted to batter Joe until he understood how much he'd hurt him. Make him take the responsibility for ruining it all.

But now, over a year since they'd last spoken, it turned out that he wasn't angry anymore – just painfully disappointed. Maybe, in a way, he was a little bit heartbroken that everything they'd grown up with had been tarnished because Joe couldn't keep his mouth shut or control his feelings well enough to just let sleeping dogs lie. Nothing had needed to be said. They'd always agreed that it was due to the weird things growing up did to people, and he'd never felt the need to tell Joe about the jerking off and the t-shirt or anything.

He pushed his fingers through his hair and leaned back against the shelves.

Joe looked so different, now. He'd bleached his hair yellow blond, and he was thinner – taller – and... Yeah. He'd changed a lot. Patrick couldn't help wondering how much he'd missed. What was going on in Joe's life since they stopped talking. Their moms still saw each other all the time, but he'd stayed clear of talk about Joe because it was too depressing. As angry as he'd been for so long, he didn't want to think that maybe Joe had just got on with things; that at the end of the day, and although a whole lot had changed in Patrick's life, not having Patrick around might not have been that much of an issue after all.

What if not having Patrick around had forced him to make more friends and get closer to that Wentz asshole? What if he was better off, now, than he had been when they spent all their time together? Patrick's life had barely changed, except there was no one he could guarantee always wanted to spend time with him. Nobody he wanted to spend all his time with. Not even people he logically should.

---

It wasn't until several days later, when he logged into his old email account – relegated after he signed up with a new username – that Joe found the email. Apparently, Patrick was still using the same one.

"hey.
so. seeing you was kind of weird. been a long time i guess.
I don't know what to say to you. its been a weird year.
all i want to do is say sorry for being the biggest asshole on earth.
i know its too late and everything but i neded to say it.
p"

Joe read the email eleven times before he reached for his mouse and clicked 'reply'.

'Forget it.'

He was just logging into his IM when the tiny pop-up in the corner of the screen informed him that he had another email.

His heart was racing.

'ok. sorry i said anything. Just wanted you to know.'

"What?! No!" he scrambled for his mouse and hated how slow it seemed suddenly.

'I meant it's forgotten dude. Not forget it.'

He only waited a few minutes before there was another pop-up.

'Hard to tell onlime. Couldn't blame you if you didnt. How ru anyway?'

'OK i guess. Depends if your still mad at me.'

'cAN i IM you'

Joe's heart was racing so hard he felt slightly delirious. He was talking to Patrick! Talking to him for the first time in over a year and he was apologising so maybe – maybe it would all stop and they'd be friends again. Maybe. God, he hoped so.

'If you want.'

Accept message from XstumpyX?! Of course he'd fucking accept!

XstumpyX (23:01:43): hi.
Trohoho84 (23:02:03): hi.
XstumpyX (23:02:55): dont know what to say.
XstumpyX (23:03:12): Stupid huh?
Trohoho84 (23:03:23): me either
Trohoho84 (23:03:57): id ont think it's stupid.
XstumpyX (23:05:23): how ru?
Trohoho84 (23:05:41): ok. u?
XstumpyX (23:06:25): i'm an asshole.
Trohoho84 (23:07:14): pretty much. But i knew that already.
XstumpyX (23:07:33): no, joe – im serious
XstumpyX (23:07:50): u should hate me.
Trohoho84 (23:08:03): Why?
XstumpyX (23:09:01): u know why.
Trohoho84 (23:09:47): myabe
Trohoho84 (23:11:04): maybe yuo were right
XstumpyX (23:11:56): no i was an asshole. even if it was tru e you didnt deserve it.
Trohoho84 (23:13:02): i ddn't know when we were doing it u know.
Trohoho84 (23:13:08): i swear1
Trohoho84 (23:13:52): u can hate me to if you want.
XstumpyX (23:14:00): tried that.
Trohoho84 (23:14:03): heh
XstumpyX (23:15:12): i'm really sorry.
XstumpyX (23:16:06): im gonna sound like agirl but i miss u dude.
Trohoho84 (23:16:58): do you?
XstumpyX (23:17:29): dumb huh
Trohoho84 (23:18:10): not reallu
Trohoho84 (23:18:14): really*
Trohoho84 (23:19:22): i mean i did too
XstumpyX (23:19:59): : )
Trohoho84 (23:23:23): so how's stuff?

When Joe finally collapsed on to his bed, just after three in the morning, he thought he was going to explode with happiness. They'd been talking for four hours. FOUR HOURS! He didn't even know what they talked about or what was going on in Patrick's life – if he looked back at the conversation they probably did discuss it, but all he could think of was the fact that he finally, finally spoke to Patrick again. He almost wanted to cry, he was so happy; he wanted to run to his mom and dad's room and wake up his mom and tell her that they were talking again, that Patrick wanted to meet up and – and go out, get something to eat and hang out and it was awesome! They'd even agreed when (6.30pm, next day; Thursday) and where (the pizza place next to the Cineplex where they use to go before films when they were kids). He couldn't believe this was happening. He was almost afraid to go to sleep in case he woke up to find out it was all a dream.

He wasn't sure he could stand that kind of disappointment.

---

Sitting on the bench outside the pizzeria Patrick's stomach was churning so hard he was almost convinced he was going to puke before they even had a chance to eat anything.

What if this was a bad idea? What if he'd been blinded by the excitement of reclaiming the closeness they'd shared as kids? He didn't even know if Joe now was the same Joe he remembered – a lot could have changed in a year. Maybe they were too different for this to work, and they should have let it go. Perhaps just an apology would have been enough and they should have left it at that. Maybe –

The smile and the nervousness on Joe's face as he strolled across the parking lot toward him were the first indication. The way their awkward, tentative hug sank into one long, grateful moment, just squeezing each other so tight they could hardly breathe, was the other.

Everything might be okay, after all. Maybe.

And, as it happened, Joe hadn't changed. Not really. He kept looking at Patrick like he didn't really believe they were here – that Patrick had showed up at all – and he was quieter than he used to be. But he was still Joe, and he still said the same dorky things. He still made Patrick laugh and think he was the goofiest, most awesome person he'd ever known. He kept finding himself staring; watching him as he talked and feeling small pieces of his memories falling back into place – you've always laughed like that; I forgot you said 'like' all the time; your lisp is so fucking adorable... And yet, even though Patrick spent most of his time fascinated by the rediscovery, he still found time to really, really enjoy himself.

They both had school, and they'd both been up most of the night talking and had to be in classes early that morning, so they started out the evening tired. It wasn't as though they could spend the night hanging out, but it was almost the weekend. Joe was already hinting that he wanted to see him, mentioning that he had nothing to do, except an Arma show he was supposed to go to. When Patrick dropped him home they sat in the car outside the house for another hour, just talking. He didn't want to let it end in case they fucked it up again, but he didn't have a choice, so he leaned over and pulled him into another hug. It felt so, so good, even though Joe went slightly rigid and ducked his head when Patrick's lips accidentally brushed against his cheek as he pulled away. But he smiled, still, and Patrick really, really wished that he wasn't a dude, because it was one of the sweetest things he'd ever seen.

---

Cathie actually gave a tiny skip of delight when Joe came in that night – after she'd sent him off upstairs, of course. If it wasn't so late she'd have called Patty to tell her the good news. The kids were back together.

---

Pete took one look at Joe's face and grinned like a Cheshire Cat. "Action?" he teased, holding a hand out for a hi-five.

Joe just blushed, smiled coyly and said, "No..."

"I think you're lying, Joejoe."

"I'm not! I just like... I went out with Patrick, last night."

"Patrick? That - ? Kindergarten Patrick?"

Joe nodded at him.

"How the fuck did that happen, dude?"

"I think, like... Andy set me up, basically."

"Hurley?! Andy Hurley. Set you up. Are we in a parallel universe again?"

"He sent me to look for that Neurosis album in the store Patrick works in."

"And he knows what Patrick looks like, kind of?"

"He's seen him, once."

"And now you're BFFs again."

The look on Joe's face said kind of a lot.

"I need to meet this kid. Bring him to my party."

"Your birthday party?"

"No, dude, my Bar Mitzvah," Pete replied sarcastically, smacking the back of his head.

"Anti-Semite."

"Homo."

"Tranny."

"Nerd."

"Platypus."

"...the fuck?!" Pete burst into laughter and hooked an arm around the kid's neck.

"Weird-looking, venomous little fuckers. Can I seriously bring him?"

"If he's less of a homophobic dickwad, now, kind of. I mean, it might involve sleeping in the same room as other dudes, man."

Joe gave him a funny look.

"What?"

"After the show tonight, he's like... um."

"He's what?"

"He's sleeping over. It's Friday."

"Obviously," Pete smirked.

"It's what we do."

"It's what you did."

"Apparently, it's also like, what we do."

"Well, apparently, you used to hang around first base a lot, as well, so did you factor that in, or whatever?

Joe gave an awkward laugh and shook his head. "I don't think so, dude."

Pete thumped him on the shoulder and went to find Chris. He wasn't going to argue this one.

---

Patrick was already sitting on Joe's bed, playing Grand Theft Auto, when he walked in sometime just before eleven. He'd come over after the weekly stock-taking shift ended at nine; Cathie let him in, made him something to eat and then ushered him off to make himself comfortable in Joe's room. There was much more in the way of entertainment up there anyway.

It had been so weird hanging out in Joe's room without him, after so long. When they were kids it would work out that way, sometimes, if Joe had an after-school club or something. And the really weird thing was that it was exactly the same room now as it always had been. There were a few albums in his record collection that Joe would never have looked at eighteen months ago, an especially foppish poster of Morrissey on the wall over his drawers, and the Sega Mega Drive was unplugged to make room for the Playstation; but for the most part, it hadn't changed.

It still smelled like Joe's room (which was, on average, far more bearable than the bedrooms of just about any other teenage boy Patrick had ever met because Joe was obsessive about keeping it that way), and it still smelled like Joe. Inwardly, Patrick laughed at himself – wondering who the fuck else it might smell of... but that led his train of thought toward far more depressing things. Like the idea of Joe having other people in his room. He didn't want Joe to have other people on his room, because that meant he was spending time with them and that made him irrationally jealous. They had lost time to make up. Other people – and who the hell was he kidding? Other guys – being around would just make that harder.

The other thing about the way the room smelled, was that it reminded of how a Slayer shirt he'd once stolen had smelled pressed against his face at night, and all the things he'd associated with it.

"Good show?" he asked, looking up and pausing the game as Joe walked in, before standing up to give him a hug. He scrunched his nose up and rubbed it against his shoulder. "You stink, man."

"It was a hot motherfucker in there, dude. The aircon was broke..."

Patrick grinned against the fabric and wrapped his arms a little tighter. Joe stayed still for a moment, then carefully shrugged him off.

"I guess I better like, get a shower or something... I'll be right back."

Bouncing back onto the bed, Patrick picked up the controller and tried not to think that Joe was hot and sticky and probably getting naked across the hall. Ten minutes later, Joe ducked back in apologetically, wrapped in what could have been a passable beach towel, mumbling that he forgot to get fresh clothes before disappearing back into the bathroom. Patrick bit his lip hard and tried not to think about that either – especially after Joe returned, wearing a loose t-shirt and boxers and sat himself self-consciously next to him, smelling like soap and Joe and maybe a faintly lingering smokiness.

They stayed awake until the early hours – until the sky actually started to turn blue from black – and Patrick kept willing Joe to just fall asleep so he could slip away to the bathroom and relieve the frustration or at least just not have to listen to his voice and feel his skin brushing against Patrick's own; and that, he knew, wasn't normal.

When he crept back into the bedroom a little later, Patrick dragged the comforter from the bed and curled up on the floor against Joe, who rolled a little in his sleep and tucked one arm around him.

---

"Hello, Joe, sweetheart."

"Hi, Mrs Patty."

"How's school?" Patricia asked, as Joe searched through the stack of laundry just inside the door to the utility, trying to find his favourite t-shirt.

"Same as it was on Wednesday..."

"So, still 'basically lame'?"

Joe grinned at her. "Basically." School was totally lame, but everything else was awesome.

"I hear Patrick was invited to a party with you this Saturday..."

"Um. Yeah. My friend Pete's gonna be twenty-two..."

"Twenty-two?"

"Yeah, but he's like, twelve really."

"Oh. I see."

Joe just nodded and wondered where his mother was. He always felt a little scared of Patty. Like she was always about to demand to know what he was doing to her child. Which was nothing! Nothing. They were just going to a party together. As friends. Even if the past couple of weeks had been growing progressively more affectionate and even if Joe was starting to wonder if maybe Patrick was trying to tell him something when he signed off his email agreeing to go to the party with, 'Patwick'.

He was trying so hard not to get his hopes up, but it was kind of difficult when Patrick was doing more touching than ever (although absolutely zero kissing, unless he counted the time in the car, when he kind-of-sort-of bumped his cheek) and they were talking on IM every spare moment, or hanging out, or... well. It was just hard not to get his hopes up because more than anything, more than he ever had, he wanted this to come together like endings on one of those movies his mom watched on Hallmark.

"I'm not sure how well Anna is going to take Patrick disappearing to parties with college students," Patty mused, and Joe looked up from re-folding the laundry into careful squares with a sudden shooting pain through his gut.

"Sorry?"

"Anna. He's told you about Anna, surely?"

Joe shook his head slowly. "I don't think so..."

"Ohhh," Patty smiled knowingly. "Between the two of us, I think he's a little embarrassed."

"About what?"

"Well, he's starting a little later than the other boy in his year group, so I think he feels a little behind when it comes to dating..."

"Oh." Joe nodded and suddenly didn't feel like talking any more. "Y'know... I think I left my shirt upstairs..." He practically ran to his room.

---

The look on Joe's face when he got into Patrick's car and saw the t-shirt he was wearing, was classic. He spluttered and turned red, and focused on buckling himself in. He probably forgot he'd ever given it to him.

"No hug, today?" Patrick teased, starting the ignition.

Joe gave him an uncomfortable smile and turned up the stereo. Patrick began to wonder if the shirt was actually the worst idea ever. He'd worn it deliberately – it was from a time when things were awesome, and it was also Joe's. He'd had it ever since the waterfight and no matter how long it had been in his possession, the shirt was still Joe's in his mind, even if it didn't smell like him any more.

He felt nervous, but he wasn't sure if it was because they were going to a party, because they were going to a party together, or because the party they were going to together was that Wentz guy's birthday party. He'd never really even seen the guy before, let alone met him, and he had a bad feeling that he was going into this fighting for credibility; he was going to be disliked by default, because Joe had probably told him what had happened to stop them talking. He'd brought a $20 gift card from work as a present-come-peace offering, but he didn't want it to seem like he was trying to crawl up Pete's ass and force him to like him.

Then again, he why would he invite Patrick in the first place if he thought he was going to hate him?

"So, what's the guy like?" he asked Joe, as he locked the car and they set off up the street toward the house.

"You're gonna like, hate his guts," Joe replied, and he didn't sound like he was joking.

The front door was open wide when they reached it, so they just walked into the hall and Patrick followed Joe into the kitchen; he seemed pretty familiar with the layout of the house. He must have spent a lot of time there, which made Patrick feel slightly bitter and put him in a weird frame of mind for seeing a small, dark blur dive out of one room and jump on Joe's back, yelling, "TROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHMAAAAAAAN!!"

Joe brightened slightly, and laughed at him, wriggling until the guy – it was Pete, it had to be Pete – slid down and stood up of his own accord.

"How you doing, kid?"

"Um..." Joe's eyes dropped to the floor and then flickered to Patrick's for a second. "I've like, been better, dude, but hey – um... this is Patrick. Patrick... Pete Wentz."

Pete stopped and at looked at him, one eyebrow slightly raised. "You're short."

"You're fucking related to Robert Wadlow, though, huh?" Patrick countered.

Pete just smirked again. "So, you kids want something to drink?"

Patrick lifted his wrist to show him the faded 'X' drawn over time and time again in sharpie. Pete turned his arm to draw his attention to curved 'X' with the word 'straightedge' through it. Patrick immediately felt like a twelve year old.

"So, like, soda then, or whatever?"

He didn't like the way Joe snorted and shook his head as he walked into the kitchen and picked up a can of beer, jerking his head for Patrick to follow him into the other room. There were already a lot of people hanging out, a few of whom greeted Joe like they adored the kid. One half-dressed girl in combat boots tried to pull him onto her lap and he had to wrestle himself free, laughing; the moment he looked at Patrick, though, his face dropped again.

Patrick blushed, feeling like all the people in the room were watching him, wondering why this midget was following Joe around when Joe didn't seem to want him there. He wandered back into the kitchen, looking for the soda that Pete had offered by not yet given him and wondering why exactly Joe had told Pete he'd 'been better'.

There was no way he was going to stick this out if he was going to be ignored all night.

---

Aimee grabbed at him again the second Patrick walked out of the room, and Joe couldn't get free, this time – he struggled frantically to extract himself; he couldn't just leave Patrick wandering around without him, because Jeanae knew the story and Jeanae wasn't entirely known for tact and diplomacy.

Pete walked into the room just as Joe fell off the arm of the easy chair, escaping Aimee's cackling and scrambling to his feet.

"Dude, he's one miserable-ass bitch," Pete said, glancing toward the kitchen.

"He's shy," Joe snapped defensively.

"Doesn't seem too shy to me, kind of. But I wanna talk to you a second, dude, come out here..." Pete grabbed his arm and dragged him into the hall. "What's up? I saw the look you gave him, man, and if he's being a dick about the whole gay thing again – "

"No, dude... no, it's not that. I just..." Joe looked at the sliver of doorway into the kitchen that he could see into from here, "I found something out, that's all. It's not... actually, it kind of is his fault, but like... he doesn't know I know."

"Huh?"

"You know how I like, rushed home after the Arma show, because he was there?"

"Yeah..."

"He was just like... all over me. I woke up in the night, and he's sleeping on the floor like, right next to me – fucking spooning, dude. Then I'm like, talking to his mom at my house, and she's like, 'Oh, has Patrick told you about his girlfriend?', or whatever." It was a relief to get it out – to be able to say it all to someone, because he'd been half on the verge of tears ever since he spoke to Patty. He hadn't really known what to think about Patrick sleeping with him on the floor, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking that it might have meant something. Then this had happened, and he couldn't even say 'What the fuck, dude?' to Patrick because he was afraid of pushing him away again.

"That is totally fucking not cool," Pete growled, looking kind of a lot like he wanted to walk into the kitchen and punch him out. "Somebody seriously needs some educating in figuring out what he wants, if you know what I mean." He stopped and looked at the unopened can, still in Joe's hand. "Is that was this is about, man? 'Cause you're not gonna find answers in one of those."

"No, but maybe if I get drunk enough and call him out, then I'll have the balls to see it through or something..."

"If anything goes wrong, you fucking call me, dude. I'll get him out of here fucking faster than you can say 'closet case', or whatever."

Joe raised a weak smile and headed for the kitchen.

---

Patrick watched as Joe picked up another can of beer. He was pretty sure that this was his fourth in the last three hours; Joe didn't generally drink – or, he didn't think so – but tonight he seemed to be on a mission and Patrick was starting to get mad.

"What are you doing?" he hissed through his teeth, trying to prise the can from Joe's fingers without causing a scene in the middle of the crowded kitchen.

"Nothing."

"Yeah. Seems like, dude." He looked around for the nearest door and shoved him toward it. "We need to talk about whatever your problem is, because I'm going fucking home, if this is how it's gonna be. I didn't come here to babysit you, I came here – "

"You talk to your girlfriend like that, dude?" Joe asked, stopping just outside the kitchen door, on the raised deck that led down to the lawn.

Patrick stared at him. "Do I talk to who?"

"Your girlfriend, dude. Do you talk to 'Anna' like that? 'Cause if – "

"Anna?! Anna is – "

"Your mom told me, dude. She's your girlfriend."

"She is not my fucking girlfriend!" Patrick virtually yelled, and fuck, was he going to have something to say to his mom when he got home. "Anna is not my girlfriend, okay? We went on one date – ONE! – and she told me... she said. She said stuff that's really not important right now. But she is not my girlfriend! I've never had a fucking girlfriend, you dick!"

Someone inside the kitchen called out, "LOSER!" and Patrick quickly ushered Joe towards the steps.

"Get down there – away from the house."

"Your mom – "

"My mom is talking bullshit, Joe! I don't have a girlfriend, okay? I don't. have. a. girlfriend. Okay?"

"But – "

"I have a friend, who is a girl, who I hung out with a lot when... y'know. When you weren't around. We're not fucking dating."

Joe swallowed a few times and seemed to have trouble reconciling this idea with whatever information he thought he already had. "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh'."

Carefully, Joe studied the grass at his feet and sat down in the middle of the lawn, hunched over crossed legs. Patrick just sighed and joined him, bumping their knees together slightly.

"So, I guess you've been mad at me for hiding stuff I wasn't hiding, huh?"

Joe gave a soft laugh and shook his head.

"Well, I'm glad you find it funny, dude."

"I don't. It's just like, fucking stupid, dude... I can't even... This is just so not going to work."

"What won't?"

"This, dude. Me and you... I hate everyone you know, and you hate all my friends..."

"I don't hate – "

"You fucking hate Pete. It's like you're walking around wearing a shirt that says, like, 'I hate Pete' or something, dude."

"Wow. That would be a real imaginative shirt."

Joe laughed a little and slumped back onto the grass. Patrick leaned back and propped himself on his elbows.

"Pete asked me to go on tour with them," Joe announced suddenly. "Chris has to work..."

"Oh. That's um... that's cool."

"I guess so."

"You guess?"

"I feel like I might come back and not have a best friend again."

"What the fuck?" Patrick rolled over and looked down at him. "Why -?"

"It was a long time, dude. Like, we only just started talking again, and like... y'know... things are still kind of weird and stuff..."

It actually hurt Patrick a little to hear that; how could Joe honestly think that he could go away for a few weeks and Patrick would forget him in the meantime? "I'm not the one going away with all the cool dudes on the scene."

"No, but there's some girl you spend all this time with so your mom thinks you're dating..."

"She asked if I was dating you, once."

Joe looked up at him, with his eyes wide. "You're bullshitting me."

"Nope. It was just after... y'know. When you told me."

"Oh."

"Yeah..." Patrick nodded slowly.

"So what did you say, man?"

"I told her to mind her own fucking business."

"Your mom?!"

"Ended up grounded for two weeks. And I had to tell her 'no', anyway," he shrugged. "But it wasn't her business. And y'know... I don't think I ever forgave her for siding with Mrs Watson. I was mad at her. Really, really pissed off, actually."

"But you cursed at your mom, man. That's like... I figured she'd ground you until you were forty-five or something."

Patrick laughed. "She figured I was upset about the fight and let me out after two days."

---

Andy was leaning on the edge of the open window, peering out into the garden, when Pete came over.

"Hey, man, you okay?"

"Yeah," Andy nodded, not looking away. "Joe and Patrick... they've been out there or over an hour. Do you know if things are okay? It kind of sounded a little pissy, earlier..."

"They're talking. That's all I know, kind of."

Andy just nodded and kept watching.

Pete snickered. "Wait right there and I'll bring you some popcorn or something."

---

Joe couldn't remember when Patrick's head had ended up on his shoulder, but he thought it was around the time he said he'd spent most of the last year sitting in his room, practicing his guitar skills and playing video games. He didn't mind, anyway. He liked having him this close again, sleepy and comfortable on the grass. Patrick's hair smelled of baby shampoo like his mom used to use on Sam. It made him smile and pet his bangs absently as he listened to him.

He felt like his hand was going to be slapped away at some point, but it wasn't. Patrick just caught it and pulled it away from his face, holding on to it so it couldn't return to his hair. Joe just pressed his fingers through Patrick's and bumped their joined hands repetitively against his chest.

They'd been laying there a long time; at least he thought so. He was beginning to feel slightly affected by the beer, and laying on their backs, watching the lights of the planes flying in and out of the city was weirdly peaceful. He kind of wondered where everyone was going.

"Joe?"

"Hmmph?"

"Just checking you're awake."

Joe laughed gently and rolled over slightly to wrap the arm Patrick wasn't lying on around him. "Still awake," he confirmed.

"Good, because... I'm kind of not done talking."

"We're cool, though."

"Yeah," Patrick said, and he smiled. "We're cool."

"So, what do you want to say?" Looking at Patrick's eyes as he blinked slowly, Joe couldn't help smiling; or leaning in and nuzzling his cheek affectionately. He was so fucking cute.

"I need to take back some stuff I said."

"Like what? The Cure are better than The Smiths? Because if you were gonna retract that, you'd be right. Finally."

Patrick's only answer was to shift slightly and kiss him on the lips.

---

"Pete! Pete!"

"What, man?"

Pete peered over Andy's shoulder and looked down into the garden below. An enormous grin spread across his face and he slapped Andy on the shoulder happily.

"That's awesome, dude. But now this is approaching voyeurism, kind of." He grabbed him by both shoulders and directed him toward the kitchen for a celebratory Mountain Dew.

---

Patrick was grinning when he pulled back and looked up into Joe's wide and bewildered eyes.

"Did I, y'know, get everything, or was there some bitchy comment I missed?"

Joe just continued to stare at him.

"Earth to Major Troh?"

"Patrick... dude..."

"You're not freaked out, are you, man?" Patrick began, starting to worry – starting to think he'd judged things all wrong.

Joe shook his head unsteadily and lifted a hand to touch Patrick's face apprehensively. "Is this, like... the way we were or whatever, man, 'cause – "

"Hmm... yes and no. I'm hoping more 'yes' than 'no'."

"In... in a friends way, or...?"

"Right now, I don't know, dude... I'm feeling pretty gay..." he laughed nervously.

"You -?"

"Look, man. I've been... there's stuff that I looked back on, recently, y'know... we said that we were gonna grow up and live in a house with no girls or parents, and I still want to do that."

Joe chuckled softly and pressed his forehead to Patrick's neck.

"And y'know: you're not so bad at the whole kissing thing... and you're kind of hot, I guess... could be worse..." Feeling Joe laughing again his shirt, Patrick smiled and kissed his hair. "I mean... for years you were kind of. Um. I thought about you a lot, y'know?"

"Really?"

"I've been in denial so long I'm surprised I didn't drown, dude."

"I don't... what are we doing, dude?"

Patrick hooked one of his legs behind Joe's and leaned in so that their noses bumped together gently. "Making up for wasted time."

Breathlessly, Joe ducked forward and kissed him again, whispering, "That's kind of a lot to make up."

"Yeah," Patrick nodded, ignoring their cat-calling audience on the decking as he kissed him softly on the lips, "I mean – I'm not about to say, 'Hey, dude, bend over' or anything, but... I don't want to ever... y'know. Ever have another year like the last one."

"Me either, man, but I don't want you to force yourself or anything – that's like... the worst that could happen..."

"Hey!" Patrick grumbled, slapping his shoulder. "I'm making declarations of love, dude, you could at least pretend to be convinced."

---

Pete looked up at Andy, sitting on his riser at the back of the stage, which seemed like half a mile away at a show this big, and nodded before turning back and grasping his mic.

"So, right now, because it's Valentine's Day, and I know everyone's feeling a little bit romantical and stuff... I want to tell you a story," he said, grinning and the deafening whoops and screams from the girls in front of him. He glanced over at Patrick, who was frowning slightly – oh, did that kid have a surprise coming! "You want to hear a love story?"

"YEEEEEEAH!!" (Or, "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEERGHMARRYMEPEEEEETE!!", but he was learning to translate after ten years.)

"Cool, 'cause I'm gonna tell you whether you care or not, kind of."

Joe was laughing, across the stage, looking baffled.

"So, yeah – once upon a time, there were these two kids. You'll figure out their names in a couple of seconds. And these kids, they met one day in kindergarten – " he paused to look at the other two while the kids, who all had the Blue Crayon story memorised, he was pretty sure, yelled a little more. "And these kids – these two boys – they grew up... sent each other Valentines cards that weirded out the other kids... started touching each other inappropriately..."

The kids laughed and Patrick raised a hand, pretending he was going to smack Pete in the face. Instead, he walked over and leaned on Joe's shoulder, who patted him on the head.

"And the thing is, these two kids... well, they grew up a little more – not a whole fucking lot, though, seriously – and okay, I want everyone to put their hands in the air... you too! Put 'em up! Okay. And I want you to put your thumb and forefinger together like this, so you're making a heart, kind of. Okay?"

Patrick was blushing and had wandered to the back of the stage and was looking at the drum riser. He whirled around abruptly, looking at Andy as he grinned down from where he stood behind his kit, a pink cupcake in each hand, just in time for Pete to say:

"This is 'I Bought A Fucking House With Someone In Fall Out Boy And All I Got Was Twenty Cupcakes Smashed In My Face...'"

The screaming – and the sugared splatters of cupcakes flying across the stage – turned the whole thing into bedlam; in the middle of it all, though, Pete grinned up at Andy and laughed as Joe grabbed Patrick and licked frosting off his face.