Come On Let Me
Title: Come On Let Me
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: R for content
Category: Angst, Humor, Fluff
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Patrick/Sebastien
Summary: [Standalone]
Come on let me hold you, touch you, feel you
Always
Kiss you taste you all night
Always
-Blink-182 - "Always"
Note: I posted a fic a bit ago called "On the Way and I know I said it was a standalone; but that's because I hadn't gotten to the part of the story it was in where this happened. Now that I've written this, it gets to be it's own story too. So, you can think of this as a companion to "On the Way" if you'd like to.
Disclaimer: I do not own Patrick, Sebastien, David or Jeff.
All other characters are mine unless otherwise noted.
-
Come On Let Me
There was a thick layer of smoke in the air as Danielle slipped between two parties of yelling persons; some of whom she knew and some of whom she once did but not at this time. All over the room were people laughing and having a good night, drinking all kinds of liquor and smoking substances of only God-knows-what. She walked through the room and glanced through the smoke, her eyes lingering when she saw a figure in the corner and became unable to tear her eyes from the sight.
Patrick threw his head back and lowered his arm, the now-empty shot glass in hand, and shook his head to overcome the sting rushing through him. He made a gesture with the hand holding the glass and someone with a bottle began refilling it while his other hand rose to his mouth and placed a cigarette between his lips. Patrick's eyes lingered on the glass while it was being filled and he took a long drag from his cigarette. With a shake of his head he leaned back and downed the shot, not even trying to shake off the after effect this time.
Danielle blinked, dumbfounded as she looked around the area where Patrick was seated and wondered where Sebastien was and why he wasn't monitoring what Patrick did. There's no way he would have approved such behavior. She turned around with the thought still fresh in her mind and quickly sidestepped to avoid running into a chase scene and her eyes settled on two figures sitting on a couch; one of whom she recognized and the other a complete stranger.
David sat at the corner of the couch with a girl in his lap, his hands placed loosely around her waist. Her leg moved over and she shifted to straddle him, his hands taking advantage if the maneuver and sticking his fingers just under the waist of her pants. The two of them sat like that with their tongues battling in a strong lip-lock. Danielle had no trouble and felt no foul when she tapped the unidentified girl on the shoulder and caused the two to cease their acts.
The girl pulled away, showing a slight sneer to Danielle before she leaned forward and attached her lips to David's neck; this interruption wouldn't deter her for very long. David looked up at Danielle lazily, his eyes making it a little more than obvious that he'd found a beer or five before this moment. He shook his head when Danielle inquired about Sebastien's whereabouts and suggested maybe asking Jeff - or looking up Patrick's ass - before he turned his head and got the girl's attention focused back onto his mouth.
Danielle walked away in search of Jeff, still very curious as to why her friend was over at a table trashing himself when she was sure he'd given that all up. While looking around, she bumped into a person and turned to excuse herself when she came face-to-face with who it was and smiled: just the man she'd been looking for.
"Hey, Dani," Jeff smiled and nodded to her. "How're you liking the party?" He joked and placed a hand on her arm.
"Just fine," she said over the music and looked around. "What's up with Patrick?" She queried and held onto Jeff's arm, pointing his attention toward the table where a very drunk Patrick sat. "I thought he quit."
Jeff bit down on his lip and looked away. "I'm not sure. I saw him earlier and he was looking or Seb, we heard which room he was in and I saw him walk in. Then, like, not even fifteen minutes later I saw him over there." He shook his head, squinting, obviously thinking. "That must have been over an hour ago."
"He's just been sitting there?" Danielle asked, perplexed at the situation. Something about this didn't seem quite right.
"Yeah..." Jeff answered and his tone drug off, obviously he was a bit confused too. He looked at Danielle and nodded his head, answering her silent request to go in search of their young friend. She followed Jeff's simple instructions to finding the room Sebastien was expected to still be occupying: second door to the left of the keg in the corner. Without bothering to knock she tried the handle, it was surprisingly unlocked and she slipped into the room unnoticed, locking it behind her.
The room was completely lit and silent, save for the noise of the party muffled from the walls. Sebastien sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded together. Danielle walked over to the bed and sat down next to the very distraught-looking Sebastien. He sat still, looking at the floor and unmoving, not making any sign at all that he even noticed her entrance.
Danielle looked him over before extending her hand to his back and rubbing gently. "Sebastien?" He didn’t move. "You okay?"
His tongue peeked out to lick his lips and he swallowed hard, still looking at the ground. "Patrick's been cheating on me," he whispered.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened; she must have heard wrong. Patrick, cheat on Sebastien? Never in a million years. They were meant for each other, even if she'd never pictured it before, Danielle couldn't deny that even now neither of them had seemed better off. Not even Patrick.
"He'd never do that," she hissed and shook her head, rubbing his back.
Sebastien sat with a furrowed brow, staring at the floor. "But he has..."
"You're not sure of that," she insisted; "you can't be sure."
"I was tossing a tennis ball and it rolled under the dresser. I got down to pick it up and when I stood again I knocked over his bag. I found this in there." Sebastien shook his head and loosened the grip of his fists, a small article of blue cloth dangled from his hand. Danielle looked at the item as he continued. "I didn't know what to do then when he came in I asked him about it. He couldn't explain himself and I just threw him out."
Danielle blinked as realization clicked into her mind and she understood what the item was: a blue thong. Clearly Sebastien has found this in his boyfriend's bag and assumes it to be the property of someone Patrick's been seeing behind his back. Somehow, she can't let herself believe Patrick would do such a thing though. They couldn't all be that bad. Another look at the offending item and something triggered in her head; she's seen that undergarment before.
"Seb," she began and paused, continuing when he didn't move, "I think that's mine."
He scoffed and shook his head. "As much as I appreciate your wanting to see us happy and together, Dani, if Patrick is fooling around behind my back I'd rather just end this now."
A small bit of panic hit her and she shook her head, "No, Sebastien, I'm serious. I think it is mine." She looked at the item, convinced it looked familiar and trying to think of the last possible time she might have seen it. The thought of why she cared so much about proving it to Sebastien was only barely there in her mind.
Sebastien sighed, shaking his head. "How would it have gotten into his bag?" He asked disbelievingly.
"Maybe it got mixed in with the laundry or something," she offered and shook her head. "Patrick wouldn't do that to you though, Seb, he just wouldn't," she explained, trying to convince Sebastien of the fact and trying not to let herself think too much into what she was saying. "I think mine had a tear on the tag; just look, won't you?" He sat still. "Please, Seb, it really could be," she pleaded.
He sat still and stared at the floor, the debate of whether or not to look and prove that the item did belong to her running through his head. If it did turn out to be Danielle's, he could run out, find Patrick and somehow make everything proper; all he'd wanted to do since Patrick walked out a "single man," not even three hours ago. If the garment wasn't hers, nothing would change; he'd remain sitting on the edge of the bed and continue to wallow as this mess he'd been reduced to and mentally curse himself for allowing the situation to get to him so much. Even at this point he hated that he was so hurt over it all. He felt used.
Danielle leaned closer as he didn't say anything and extended her hand to the item dangling from his fingers. She felt around the rim of the garment and lifted out the small white tag. It was thin and tiny and as she held it out, it split apart enough to reveal a small tear on it. She exhaled a deep breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding in and a miniscule smile tugged at her lips as the thought that the garment was hers and Patrick hadn't done anything to hurt Sebastien sank in. She blinked and glanced up at Sebastien, seeing his eyes focused on the tag she held, a small wet lining at the bottom of his eyes.
Danielle watched for a good amount of time as Sebastien simply sat looking at the tag and blinked slowly. Thoughts ran through his head and he knew what he had to do. He stood quickly, ran over to open the door to the room he'd occupied for the better part of the night and was abruptly hit with the smoke and stench filling the hotel room. He stepped out into the main room which was much darker and stuffier than that of his previous quarters and moved about almost desperately as he searched for Patrick.
Sebastien stopped and spotted Patrick sitting on a bench in the corner surrounded by people he couldn't recognize, being it from the smoke fogging his vision or the sheer fact that he did not know them he didn't have the mindset to think about. He wasn't sure of just how he would go about what he knew needed to be done. Sebastien strode over to the table and around to stand in front of where Patrick sat holding a cigarette and a shot glass in either of his hands, not paying attention to anything in the room other than his weapons of choice and the patch of air in front of his watering eyes. Unsure of whether Patrick was deliberately ignoring the fact that he stood directly in front of him or just that he really was that taken from reality, Sebastien didn't care.
Patrick brought the shot glass to his lips, a gesture that greatly angered Sebastien as Patrick still hadn't recognized his presence. Sebastien reached out his hand, grabbing the shot and thereby holding Patrick's attention. As the wasted man looked up at him, Sebastien held eye contact and downed the contents of the glass. Patrick made a move to get to his feet but Sebastien only pushed him back down onto the bench and, while still holding eye contact, climbed up to straddle over Patrick's lap. Patrick looked up at Sebastien with a stoned glare and their gazes never parted as Sebastien's hand stroked down Patrick's arm, to his hand where the cigarette was held. Patrick stared at Sebastien's eyes until the cigarette was brought to his lips and his view moved to stare at the tip of the cigarette glowing brighter and receding back as Sebastien took a long, slow drag, finishing it off.
Stubbing the cigarette out into the empty shot glass, Sebastien leaned back slightly to reach behind him and place the two spent items on the table, the gesture causing his hips to press down onto Patrick's thighs just slightly. He sat back up straight and positioned it so that he stared straight into Patrick's eyes, barely any space between them. Aware of the hurtful things he'd said to Patrick when he'd been angry and upset, Sebastien felt himself restrained by his polite sense and unable to do things just as he wanted, which would entail a large amount of touching and possibly a few other specific actions that would otherwise disrupt surrounding peoples had they not been completely out of whack already. He felt the light buzz in his head already coming over him from the one shot he'd taken; if this is what Patrick's had all night, Sebastien can only hope he's drunk enough to forgive him.
Unable to think of anything better to do - and unable to think of doing anything else - Sebastien leaned his head forward, timidly, pressing his forehead to Patrick's. He let out a breath at the relief that he hadn't been pushed away yet and closed his eyes. Patrick sat still and it was hard for Sebastien to decipher whether that was simply because he was too infuriated to do anything or because he was just that drunk; the latter being quite possible as the bitter taste of the alcohol was heavy on Patrick's lips. Nonetheless, Sebastien boldly made his next move. He nuzzled his nose lightly over Patrick's, his voice coming out completely shaky and uncertain as he spoke:
"I'm sorry." And he felt Patrick's hands rise to rest on his hips.
Sebastien exhaled happily, immediately wrapping his arms around Patrick's neck and feverishly kissing him as if they hadn't seen each other in three months. The understanding that Patrick had forgiven him sinking in, Sebastien loosened his body, melding against the form of Patrick sitting on the bench. The two of them sat like that, holding on to each other almost desperately. Without a doubt they would end up retreating back into the room Sebastien had occupied previously, if not for a celebration of their consolation then to use the bathroom when Patrick would almost inevitably get sick; quite possibly both.
Through the fog, Danielle watched the two from the center of the room and a weak smile formed itself on her face. She sighed, glad that she could still have hope in people; although her thoughts of Sebastien and Patrick being happy are now all but gone. She sighed, thinking that maybe this night should end and she should go back to Pierre. As Danielle turned, she found herself looking at the couch again, David and the unidentified girl still seated in the corner, their actions going strong. Danielle walked past and a smirk crossed her face as the girl atop David found herself yanked off of her prey and sitting on the floor of the room, looking around stunned.
Characters: Band centric [Simple Plan]
Rating: R for content
Category: Angst, Humor, Fluff
Warning: Slash
Pairing: Patrick/Sebastien
Summary: [Standalone]
Come on let me hold you, touch you, feel you
Always
Kiss you taste you all night
Always
-Blink-182 - "Always"
Note: I posted a fic a bit ago called "On the Way and I know I said it was a standalone; but that's because I hadn't gotten to the part of the story it was in where this happened. Now that I've written this, it gets to be it's own story too. So, you can think of this as a companion to "On the Way" if you'd like to.
Disclaimer: I do not own Patrick, Sebastien, David or Jeff.
All other characters are mine unless otherwise noted.
-
Come On Let Me
There was a thick layer of smoke in the air as Danielle slipped between two parties of yelling persons; some of whom she knew and some of whom she once did but not at this time. All over the room were people laughing and having a good night, drinking all kinds of liquor and smoking substances of only God-knows-what. She walked through the room and glanced through the smoke, her eyes lingering when she saw a figure in the corner and became unable to tear her eyes from the sight.
Patrick threw his head back and lowered his arm, the now-empty shot glass in hand, and shook his head to overcome the sting rushing through him. He made a gesture with the hand holding the glass and someone with a bottle began refilling it while his other hand rose to his mouth and placed a cigarette between his lips. Patrick's eyes lingered on the glass while it was being filled and he took a long drag from his cigarette. With a shake of his head he leaned back and downed the shot, not even trying to shake off the after effect this time.
Danielle blinked, dumbfounded as she looked around the area where Patrick was seated and wondered where Sebastien was and why he wasn't monitoring what Patrick did. There's no way he would have approved such behavior. She turned around with the thought still fresh in her mind and quickly sidestepped to avoid running into a chase scene and her eyes settled on two figures sitting on a couch; one of whom she recognized and the other a complete stranger.
David sat at the corner of the couch with a girl in his lap, his hands placed loosely around her waist. Her leg moved over and she shifted to straddle him, his hands taking advantage if the maneuver and sticking his fingers just under the waist of her pants. The two of them sat like that with their tongues battling in a strong lip-lock. Danielle had no trouble and felt no foul when she tapped the unidentified girl on the shoulder and caused the two to cease their acts.
The girl pulled away, showing a slight sneer to Danielle before she leaned forward and attached her lips to David's neck; this interruption wouldn't deter her for very long. David looked up at Danielle lazily, his eyes making it a little more than obvious that he'd found a beer or five before this moment. He shook his head when Danielle inquired about Sebastien's whereabouts and suggested maybe asking Jeff - or looking up Patrick's ass - before he turned his head and got the girl's attention focused back onto his mouth.
Danielle walked away in search of Jeff, still very curious as to why her friend was over at a table trashing himself when she was sure he'd given that all up. While looking around, she bumped into a person and turned to excuse herself when she came face-to-face with who it was and smiled: just the man she'd been looking for.
"Hey, Dani," Jeff smiled and nodded to her. "How're you liking the party?" He joked and placed a hand on her arm.
"Just fine," she said over the music and looked around. "What's up with Patrick?" She queried and held onto Jeff's arm, pointing his attention toward the table where a very drunk Patrick sat. "I thought he quit."
Jeff bit down on his lip and looked away. "I'm not sure. I saw him earlier and he was looking or Seb, we heard which room he was in and I saw him walk in. Then, like, not even fifteen minutes later I saw him over there." He shook his head, squinting, obviously thinking. "That must have been over an hour ago."
"He's just been sitting there?" Danielle asked, perplexed at the situation. Something about this didn't seem quite right.
"Yeah..." Jeff answered and his tone drug off, obviously he was a bit confused too. He looked at Danielle and nodded his head, answering her silent request to go in search of their young friend. She followed Jeff's simple instructions to finding the room Sebastien was expected to still be occupying: second door to the left of the keg in the corner. Without bothering to knock she tried the handle, it was surprisingly unlocked and she slipped into the room unnoticed, locking it behind her.
The room was completely lit and silent, save for the noise of the party muffled from the walls. Sebastien sat on the edge of the bed, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his hands folded together. Danielle walked over to the bed and sat down next to the very distraught-looking Sebastien. He sat still, looking at the floor and unmoving, not making any sign at all that he even noticed her entrance.
Danielle looked him over before extending her hand to his back and rubbing gently. "Sebastien?" He didn’t move. "You okay?"
His tongue peeked out to lick his lips and he swallowed hard, still looking at the ground. "Patrick's been cheating on me," he whispered.
Her jaw dropped and her eyes widened; she must have heard wrong. Patrick, cheat on Sebastien? Never in a million years. They were meant for each other, even if she'd never pictured it before, Danielle couldn't deny that even now neither of them had seemed better off. Not even Patrick.
"He'd never do that," she hissed and shook her head, rubbing his back.
Sebastien sat with a furrowed brow, staring at the floor. "But he has..."
"You're not sure of that," she insisted; "you can't be sure."
"I was tossing a tennis ball and it rolled under the dresser. I got down to pick it up and when I stood again I knocked over his bag. I found this in there." Sebastien shook his head and loosened the grip of his fists, a small article of blue cloth dangled from his hand. Danielle looked at the item as he continued. "I didn't know what to do then when he came in I asked him about it. He couldn't explain himself and I just threw him out."
Danielle blinked as realization clicked into her mind and she understood what the item was: a blue thong. Clearly Sebastien has found this in his boyfriend's bag and assumes it to be the property of someone Patrick's been seeing behind his back. Somehow, she can't let herself believe Patrick would do such a thing though. They couldn't all be that bad. Another look at the offending item and something triggered in her head; she's seen that undergarment before.
"Seb," she began and paused, continuing when he didn't move, "I think that's mine."
He scoffed and shook his head. "As much as I appreciate your wanting to see us happy and together, Dani, if Patrick is fooling around behind my back I'd rather just end this now."
A small bit of panic hit her and she shook her head, "No, Sebastien, I'm serious. I think it is mine." She looked at the item, convinced it looked familiar and trying to think of the last possible time she might have seen it. The thought of why she cared so much about proving it to Sebastien was only barely there in her mind.
Sebastien sighed, shaking his head. "How would it have gotten into his bag?" He asked disbelievingly.
"Maybe it got mixed in with the laundry or something," she offered and shook her head. "Patrick wouldn't do that to you though, Seb, he just wouldn't," she explained, trying to convince Sebastien of the fact and trying not to let herself think too much into what she was saying. "I think mine had a tear on the tag; just look, won't you?" He sat still. "Please, Seb, it really could be," she pleaded.
He sat still and stared at the floor, the debate of whether or not to look and prove that the item did belong to her running through his head. If it did turn out to be Danielle's, he could run out, find Patrick and somehow make everything proper; all he'd wanted to do since Patrick walked out a "single man," not even three hours ago. If the garment wasn't hers, nothing would change; he'd remain sitting on the edge of the bed and continue to wallow as this mess he'd been reduced to and mentally curse himself for allowing the situation to get to him so much. Even at this point he hated that he was so hurt over it all. He felt used.
Danielle leaned closer as he didn't say anything and extended her hand to the item dangling from his fingers. She felt around the rim of the garment and lifted out the small white tag. It was thin and tiny and as she held it out, it split apart enough to reveal a small tear on it. She exhaled a deep breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding in and a miniscule smile tugged at her lips as the thought that the garment was hers and Patrick hadn't done anything to hurt Sebastien sank in. She blinked and glanced up at Sebastien, seeing his eyes focused on the tag she held, a small wet lining at the bottom of his eyes.
Danielle watched for a good amount of time as Sebastien simply sat looking at the tag and blinked slowly. Thoughts ran through his head and he knew what he had to do. He stood quickly, ran over to open the door to the room he'd occupied for the better part of the night and was abruptly hit with the smoke and stench filling the hotel room. He stepped out into the main room which was much darker and stuffier than that of his previous quarters and moved about almost desperately as he searched for Patrick.
Sebastien stopped and spotted Patrick sitting on a bench in the corner surrounded by people he couldn't recognize, being it from the smoke fogging his vision or the sheer fact that he did not know them he didn't have the mindset to think about. He wasn't sure of just how he would go about what he knew needed to be done. Sebastien strode over to the table and around to stand in front of where Patrick sat holding a cigarette and a shot glass in either of his hands, not paying attention to anything in the room other than his weapons of choice and the patch of air in front of his watering eyes. Unsure of whether Patrick was deliberately ignoring the fact that he stood directly in front of him or just that he really was that taken from reality, Sebastien didn't care.
Patrick brought the shot glass to his lips, a gesture that greatly angered Sebastien as Patrick still hadn't recognized his presence. Sebastien reached out his hand, grabbing the shot and thereby holding Patrick's attention. As the wasted man looked up at him, Sebastien held eye contact and downed the contents of the glass. Patrick made a move to get to his feet but Sebastien only pushed him back down onto the bench and, while still holding eye contact, climbed up to straddle over Patrick's lap. Patrick looked up at Sebastien with a stoned glare and their gazes never parted as Sebastien's hand stroked down Patrick's arm, to his hand where the cigarette was held. Patrick stared at Sebastien's eyes until the cigarette was brought to his lips and his view moved to stare at the tip of the cigarette glowing brighter and receding back as Sebastien took a long, slow drag, finishing it off.
Stubbing the cigarette out into the empty shot glass, Sebastien leaned back slightly to reach behind him and place the two spent items on the table, the gesture causing his hips to press down onto Patrick's thighs just slightly. He sat back up straight and positioned it so that he stared straight into Patrick's eyes, barely any space between them. Aware of the hurtful things he'd said to Patrick when he'd been angry and upset, Sebastien felt himself restrained by his polite sense and unable to do things just as he wanted, which would entail a large amount of touching and possibly a few other specific actions that would otherwise disrupt surrounding peoples had they not been completely out of whack already. He felt the light buzz in his head already coming over him from the one shot he'd taken; if this is what Patrick's had all night, Sebastien can only hope he's drunk enough to forgive him.
Unable to think of anything better to do - and unable to think of doing anything else - Sebastien leaned his head forward, timidly, pressing his forehead to Patrick's. He let out a breath at the relief that he hadn't been pushed away yet and closed his eyes. Patrick sat still and it was hard for Sebastien to decipher whether that was simply because he was too infuriated to do anything or because he was just that drunk; the latter being quite possible as the bitter taste of the alcohol was heavy on Patrick's lips. Nonetheless, Sebastien boldly made his next move. He nuzzled his nose lightly over Patrick's, his voice coming out completely shaky and uncertain as he spoke:
"I'm sorry." And he felt Patrick's hands rise to rest on his hips.
Sebastien exhaled happily, immediately wrapping his arms around Patrick's neck and feverishly kissing him as if they hadn't seen each other in three months. The understanding that Patrick had forgiven him sinking in, Sebastien loosened his body, melding against the form of Patrick sitting on the bench. The two of them sat like that, holding on to each other almost desperately. Without a doubt they would end up retreating back into the room Sebastien had occupied previously, if not for a celebration of their consolation then to use the bathroom when Patrick would almost inevitably get sick; quite possibly both.
Through the fog, Danielle watched the two from the center of the room and a weak smile formed itself on her face. She sighed, glad that she could still have hope in people; although her thoughts of Sebastien and Patrick being happy are now all but gone. She sighed, thinking that maybe this night should end and she should go back to Pierre. As Danielle turned, she found herself looking at the couch again, David and the unidentified girl still seated in the corner, their actions going strong. Danielle walked past and a smirk crossed her face as the girl atop David found herself yanked off of her prey and sitting on the floor of the room, looking around stunned.