Yesterdays Of Our Lives (Prologue)
Title: Yesterdays of Our Lives
Pairing: Eventual Peterick and Patroh
Rated: PG (subject to change)
A/N: For Kelsey (TOLD YOU I'D WRITE IT!...well start writing it)
Pete just got home from his lame ass job at Panera Bread, he didn't even like free bagels but he had to do something with his time. Well if he wanted an excuse for his terribly mediocre grades. Throwing his keys somewhere to have to find later, and popping an 88-cent tv dinner into the microwave, he noticed a jean jacket laying where he should be sitting and watching the end of CSI.
He tried sitting on it at first, but the buttons were lumpy and they dug into awkward places, so he just shrugged it on and went to check on his food. Of course, he had forgot to press the start button. He rolled his eyes while pressing it, hearing the annoying hum of micro waves start up and returned to his spot on the couch.
A door slammed and following was the sweet dank smell of pot, allerting him of his roommate, Joe. Or so he thought....An unfamiliar hand groped at his chest. "Oh, sorry dude! I just left my jac-are you wearing my jacket?"
Pete looked away from the Apple Bee's commercial long enough to completely forget what he was doing. The Bowie shirt, the sideburns, trucker hat, that mouth. Pete could really care less about a ten dollar meal deal. "Huh?" 'Very articulate first impression.'
"You're wearing my jacket."
"I am."
"Yeah, and Joe's getting high and really not contributing at all, so I'm leaving."
"You gonna be back?" Pete thought it sounded smooth, the other male was momentarily quiet in the wake of Pete's question.
"Probably....uhh, anyway-"
"What's your name?"
An eye roll and a sigh, "Patrick, and I need my jacket back so I can go."
Pete hurriedly shoved a discarded plate with what might have been his seventh grade science project on it onto the floor and off the cushion next to him, he patted it welcomingly, "Come on, we've only just met."
Patrick just put on a slightly amused, mostly confused expression before asking, "Do you often put on other people's jackets before learning their names?"
"Oh, not usually, they have to be pretty special people." Patrick guffawed (guffaw was Pete's word of the day, and he liked Patrick's guffaw).
"I should...I need to go." Pete stood and was slightly surprised at how much taller he was than Patrick. He made sure to stand in Patrick's personal bubble. "Well, if you insist on leaving, how about I trade you; a hoodie for your jacket, collateral so I know you'll have to come back?"
Patrick's look turned completely confused as Pete picked up the first black zip-up laying on the floor and handed it to Patrick, who accepted it with quiet bewilderment. "Uhm, guy-"
"Pete." Pete said smiling toothily.
"Pete....I don't think" Patrick looked at the hoodie and then back to Pete, who'd somehow managed to get even closer and was placing a finger (god knows where that's been) to Patrick lips.
"Then don't think, just kiss me."
"Excuse me!?" Pete leaned in and tripped as Patrick disappeared and was slamming the front door. Pete's food beeped and Joe was eating it before Pete stopped staring towards the door.
"Theses chicken fingers suck."
"Then why are you eating them?" Pete scoffed.
"Why are you wearing Patrick's coat?"
"Jacket."
"Seesaw?"
"Wha-what?" Joe shrugged shoving the last of three measly chicken fingers into his mouth, "Who is Patrick?"
"He's the dude who wants me in his band, he's so edge though and it really cramps the Trohmaniac creative process."
"Dude, you're so high." Joe just started giggling, Pete filed away this information while trying to steal his brownie from the tray before Joe noticed.