Chapter Text
“Oh, Pete, I love you,” Patrick whimpers, already insensible from his all too recent release, nearly pressed up against the glass shower door, warm water pouring over them and steaming out the rest of the bathroom. The shower being counterproductive at this point as sweat begins to bead across his forehead. Pete’s taking more of the shower than he is at this angle, but still, it's getting a bit too warm.
“I love you, too, I love having you like this,” Pete pants in his ear, shoving in harder, framing Patrick’s hips with his strong hands, managing to ruthlessly pin him against the door.
Patrick whines, closing his eyes, mouth slacking, holding on the doorknob with one hand, the other flat against the glass. He can’t catch his breath, seeing stars behind his lids. His head is empty as Pete pushes him well past that pleasant glow, through an overstimulation he hasn’t quite felt in a long time. One he isn’t so peeved about because oh it just feels good, the beauty of it expanding as Pete trails his lips along Patrick’s neck, whispering filth into his ear as he uses him. Tears begin collecting at the corners of Patrick’s eyes and Pete is quick to kiss them away.
“That's right, baby, make yourself feel good.” Pete says breathlessly, slowing down his thrusts, fingers pressing into Patrick’s skin at his hips. It's only then when Patrick realizes he's pushing back against Pete, grinding back against him even in his tired state, managing to get Pete deeper.
“Oh…” Patrick moans softly, circling his hips, leaning his head against the glass. The dopamine shoots straight up his spine like an electric current, carrying all of his signals up and into the ether. It doesn’t last for too long – not that he genuinely has any sense of time right now – as Pete’s breath hitches, and his hold on Patrick tightens, anchoring himself behind Patrick.
“Fuck,” Pete groans, nipping at Patrick’s collarbone, harshly shoving in three times before he stills, fully pressed up against Patrick.
Patrick inhales sharply, nearly on his tiptoes against the glass, feeling that not so unfamiliar warmth filling him, squeezing the hands that wrap around his own and sighing at the bliss. He leans back into Pete, feeling that scruff on his cheek as Pete peppers him with tender kisses. The water is lukewarm now and it’s not so unpleasant, a delightful cool against his skin, spraying the little bit of skin Pete’s body isn’t shielding from the showerhead.
Obviously, this is why the shower is the superior location, he can easily wash off with minimal effort at this point. Or he can easily make Pete wash him without moving a muscle. Either way is a win-win.
“Oh my god,” Patrick murmurs, turning just enough to reach back and wrap an arm around Pete, kissing him over his shoulder, sighing into his mouth. His tongue is thick against the roof of his own when he talks. “Okay, you win. Sharing the shower was a good idea.”
Pete huffs as he slowly pulls out, lightly nibbling on Patrick’s lower lip. “It’s always a good idea with you, my darling.”
Patrick smiles, kissing him and holding Pete’s mouth to his, hand sliding to the back of his head. “You perfect scoundrel.”
“Only for you,” Pete laughs, stepping away, hand still on Patrick’s hip. “I’d help you clean that out but maybe one of us should be out when the kids get here. They might uh, you know, question your little limp there.”
Patrick shakes his head, already feeling the rest of Pete sliding out of him and already wanting to throw the nearest bottle of soap at him. “Don’t flatter yourself. Get out.”
Pete laughs as he quickly lathers himself in soap and rinses off, slapping Patrick’s ass on the way out. Patrick doesn’t have enough time to launch a bottle at him because Pete’s significantly faster than him in every aspect. Whatever, he’ll send Pete to the store later for something they already have in the kitchen.
They’re fine, by the way, for those wondering if this was a temporary blissful moment shared between the Wentz’s.
Wentz. Patrick still smiles at the name even though he hadn’t removed it from his own. It still sends little butterflies through this tummy, still warms his insides and makes him feel complete in every sense of the word.
They haven’t been given much free time to themselves lately, not with the kids being home during mid-winter break. After the hellish year they’d all been through, the kids wanted to stay home for their break, protesting the programs they usually want to participate in: totally dangerous science experimenting at the community center nearby with minimal parental supervision, expensive figure skating classes for five days straight. Pete and Patrick were fine with the girls being home, loving having the whole family close without anything extremely stressful going on.
It’s been a year since Patrick’s defeated that horrendous tumor that wanted to storm cloud over the family far longer than it had any business to. They’re furthering their re-entry into society as the days go by, though they’re cherishing their time together again. They’re staying home more and having all sorts of family nights; ranging from scary movies to competitive board games and – to the most recent one – bleaching Pete’s hair just because the girls reminded them of when Patrick bleached his and demanded Pete do so at some point.
Pete didn't fight them at all and brought them to the nearest salon to buy some bleach and was probably judged for it. He’d grown out that delicious undercut – just barely, unfortunately – and allowed the girls to help him lighten that naturally dark hair of his. They didn’t quite reach platinum, but the color is still bright and is a beautiful contrast to his tanned skin. Patrick can’t complain about it even if he really wanted to, truthfully. Pete likes it, the kids like it, he’s pretty sure Lady likes it when she sits close by and is staring up at Pete as she loaves close by (or perhaps she’s judging him, they don’t know).
Lady didn’t take too long to get comfortable, though she does enjoy spending time outside. She’s not a hunter by any means as she seems to know that her loving family will give her whatever she wants to eat. She’s an interesting little feline birdwatcher, often trotting along through the grass to follow a butterfly. She loves sitting by the pool, dipping one paw in before she remembers she doesn’t like touching it and only likes lying near it. She hardly sits in her little tower the kids picked out for her and managed to squeeze into one section of the living room, she’d rather be close to them or outside. Patrick wants to get rid of it as the beige color stresses him out, but he simply refuses to look at it. Personal growth–
Oh! They actually do need to run to the store to pick up more food for Lady either way, that’s something they can do when the kids get home from spending the night at Brendon’s and Sarah’s. The girls love taking care of their little companion and one of their chores is feeding the cat and letting her out when she wants to explore.
Patrick washes himself again and steps out, wrapping a towel around himself.
“Dammit,” he mutters when he realizes he did not, in fact, grab the clothes from off the bed. He hardly remembers what he was doing before excusing himself to shower and practically being invaded by Pete.
He grabs his toothbrush, though, and brushes his teeth. He doesn’t like looking in the mirror most days as he’s still assuming his neck is red and his mouth is dry, and his skin is pale and gray.
But it’s not. He’s gained that little bit of color in his skin again, has put on a little bit of weight and doesn’t have that permanent scratchy throat anymore. His muscles still like to tire out a little bit faster than usual, but it’s much more manageable these days, and he’s been able to move about without needing the wheelchair. He was so thrilled to see it being put away in the garage and he hopes to never see it again, not wanting to remember any of the days he couldn’t leave the house without it.
They’re moving forward. They’re living their lives and staying up to date on their medical and dental visits. They’re enjoying life again and aren’t allowing anything to plague the family. They’re happy. They’re okay.
When he spits into the sink, he smiles. Because there isn’t blood or any traces of that atrocity in his spit. This is one of his favorite reminders, honestly, seeing that it’s impossible to not pay attention to the lack of blood. Don’t mind him, Patrick is far too overjoyed with how life has been treating them lately. Let him have his moments.
Fully dressed in his jeans and a soft v-neck, he sends Pete to the store to grab more broth for the soup he’s making. Yes, soup because Emily actually asked for chicken soup. It’s a wonder any of them crave it at all since last year, though he supposes Pete had made them separate meals when Patrick was eating soup. He’s slicing into the onion when he hears the girls rushing in, the sound of their shoes being thrown into the corner by the door followed by their giggling. Emily rushes past the kitchen and runs towards the backyard, asking him where Lady is without as much as a hello to him.
He huffs and shakes his head, smiling. “I’m pretty sure she’s out back, love. How was…” he trails when he looks up and she’s already rushing through the sliding door with one of Lady’s toys in her hand. “Happy you’re home!” he calls out anyway, dropping the onion in the pot beside him.
Hannah approaches him with her bottom lip between her teeth. “So, dad, can Sel come over? Stay the night, probably? It’s only Saturday.”
“Hello Hannah,” he says, slicing into a carrot. The water slowly begins to boil. “How was your stay with Brendon?”
“It was fine,” she says, shrugging, pushing her hair up into a ponytail – it’s certainly grown within the year, and she refuses to even trim it, only begging them to get curtain bangs that fall below her jawline. “But can Sel come over?”
He smiles, dropping the rest of the vegetables in the pot, adding extra to accommodate his practical niece. “Sure, just let her know that soup is for dinner.”
“Okay, cool! Because she’s already here and Joe has no idea.”
“What?” He pauses, head snapping up, briefly glancing at the time on the stove. “Hannah, it’s almost five. When did– how did you even manage that with– where’s Brendon?”
As if on cue, Brendon walks in and sets Emily’s backpack down by the island, snapping his gum and toying with his keys. Selena follows and shows something to Hannah on her phone. They slip out of the kitchen and rush up to Hannah’s room before Patrick can scold them.
“What?” Brendon asks, peeking into the pot. “Something wrong?”
Patrick wants to laugh, but you know what? They’re keeping the positive here. Mostly. Even though he still has every right to be the not-favorite dad of the year in certain situations. He wasn’t planning to text Joe about any of the stress-inducing dramas of the weekend any time soon, but he’ll make room for it. “Did you just kidnap my niece? How is Selena with you?”
“Oh,” Brendon looks between them with a look that suggests Patrick should probably already know. “Hannah said we had to–” He stops himself and squints, lips curling on one end. He looks at Patrick and shakes his head. “Hannah told me we had to pick her up from the arcade because you promised Joe we would.”
“Oh Jesus,” Patrick mumbles, running his hand over his face. He exhales and nods. “Alright, I’ll talk to them. Were they manageable at least?”
“Yeah, no, they were absolute peaches.” Brendon says, leaning over on the island, propping himself up on his elbows, jaw in his palms.
Patrick snorts and immediately doesn’t believe him. A long list of possibilities occurred within twenty-four hours, and they were all over in LA. The lines under Brendon’s eyes indicate some struggles with two teenagers evidently growing into their stubborn genes. While Brendon and Sarah were probably having a hard time with said teenagers, Pete and Patrick were cuddled up in the backyard by the pool, eating grapes and drinking wine. They were doing many other adult activities in the minimal time they had with just each other, so he refuses to ask Brendon about the frustrations outside of this little lie Hannah told him to–
He sighs and grabs his phone, spending about fifteen minutes planning a sit down with the might-as-well-be-twin-sisters again. Sometimes he and Joe can laugh about it, but he’s positive he would freak out if Hannah didn’t come home and was at someone else’s house, knowing that her best friend lied so she could stay at said house. Wouldn’t have mattered if it was a family friend, Patrick would have screamed until he found her, he’s sure of it.
Patrick and Joe stay calm but firm when chatting with the kids via Facetime that evening, Pete in the kitchen with Emily while they do the dinner dishes. The practical twins apologize to them and promise to not do it again (even though neither of them believes the kids), and the call ends. Patrick isn’t trying to be lenient, not really, but he’s going to try being just a tiny bit less overbearing this year. He just… he wants to enjoy this year and not fighting with Hannah is very high up on his list of things to be wary of.
After conversations have been taken care of and promises have been made, bellies full of soup and dinner dishes done, the five are outside in the backyard. Hannah and Selena sitting at the poolside with their feet dipped in, talking between each other. Emily is on the lawn, playing with Lady as usual – still utterly infatuated with their newest family member. Lady loves her just as much and seems to be an incredibly patient companion for her.
“Take my hand, take my whole life, too”
Patrick wanted to lie down for the evening, but Emily wanted everyone outside even if she’s only paying attention to their precious little cat. And Pete put on their only Elvis record in the living room with the volume turned up, taking Patrick by the waist and pulling him close on the porch.
Patrick hums along, closing his eyes with his head on Pete’s shoulder as Pete sways them gently, one hand in his, the other wrapped around Patrick’s waist. Patrick holding onto Pete’s shoulder.
“For I can’t help falling in love… with you”
“Do you see it?” Pete whispers close to his ear.
“Like a river flows, surely to the sea… darling, so it goes, some things… are meant to be”
“Hm?” Patrick hums, lifting his head, following Pete’s eyes to Emily. Their sweet youngest child picks up Lady and nuzzles close to that fuzzy little face, telling Lady all about her day and asking Lady questions in return as if Lady could answer them. Emily doesn’t seem to mind this, of course, proceeding to ask her if she wants a snack or if she needs a refill on her water. Patrick smiles lightly but wonders what he’s missing here. “See what?”
Pete chuckles, not looking away from Emily, still swaying them. “She would make such a good older sister.”