Wouldn't you like to see something strange?
title: Wouldn't you like to see something strange?
pairing: Peterick
pov: 3rd
rating: PG
summary: Pete and Patrick are invited to Frank's birthday/halloween party, a whole school event. Pete almost forces Patrick to dress up like the Cheshire Cat and the blonde is quite a step ahead...
disclaimer: not trueeeee MWAHAHAHA~ (it had to be an evil laugh)
A/N: it's only an halloween fic because there's an halloween party,no horror things involved.
It’s on everybody’s mouth: Frank Iero is going to throw a birthday-slash-Halloween party at his house in two weeks. Everyone is excited, let alone the birthday boy, who hasn’t stopped talking about it since practically the first day of school.
Patrick looks amused at the flyers Frank has covered the whole school with and picks the one attached to his locker.
“What are you gonna go as, Trick?” someone asks from behind him: it’s Pete, his best friend since first grade.
“Dunno yet,” Patrick shrugs, “What about you?”
“I have to think about it,” Pete says, eyeing the flyer he got from his own locker, “but we could go with matching costumes,” he finally adds with a grin.
Patrick chuckles, “Oh really? For example?” he inquires, heading to the first class of the day.
“Uhm…I don’t know, good and bad are so overrated…Maybe the Blues Brothers, or Jack Skellington and Sally, or Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara?…”
“Why do I have the suspect that I’m going to be the woman?” Patrick asks sarcastically, giving Pete an evil eye.
The dark haired guy shushes him, “I got it, I got it!” he cries out, “Alice and the Mad Hatter!”
Patrick groans, “I thought you’d go with something more original, come on…I’m almost sick of it, you literally dragged me to watch the movie and collected every shit about it.”
Pete’s smile falters and he looks quite hurt; Patrick already regrets saying that.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, “So, who is going to be who?”
“I wanted to dress like the Mad Hatter, though you are the one who never fails to wear a hat, so maybe you should do him…but I’d have loved to see you dressed as Alice…” Pete pouts, already waving goodbye to his mental vision of Patrick with a long blonde wig, blue dress and nice shoes, his best friend will never accept.
“No, I won’t do Alice,” Patrick states resolutely. His friend sighs, he knew it.
“Then…what about the Queen of hearts? Or the Marching Hare, the Dormouse…the twins! We could go as the twins!”
Patrick laughs, “Fuck off, we don’t look anything alike…besides, I’ve never liked them.”
Pete scoffs, “You’re so picky, dammit…Oh! The Cheshire Cat! How on earth have I forgotten about him! What do you think, Trick?”
Patrick stiffens and keeps looking ahead.
“Come ooooon, Patrick,” Pete whines, “…It’s that or Alice,” he challenges, tired of this discussion already.
Patrick glares at him from the corner of the eye, but finally gives in.
“Fine, I’ll do the cat,” he sighs.
Pete beams and hugs him tightly, preceding his friend inside the classroom. Patrick takes a moment to sneak a hand under his trucker hat and scratch his extra ears before entering the classroom, right when the bell rings the beginning of the lessons.
--
Patrick Stump was born with animal genes. The ones of a cat, to be exact: he has a pair of pointy ears on top of his head, that he covers with a hat to lay them flat; a long fluffy tail, its fur the same strawberry blond of his hair and ears, that he rolls up to hide it better in his pants; slightly pointier canines; nice green eyes with vertical pupils that he corrects with special contacts -his sight isn’t as good, though, in fact he has to wear glasses.
His parents had to plead up and down, without telling his secret, to snatch a permission for him to always wear a hat at school and not to change with the other kids before and after physical education.
He actually doesn’t mind his extra parts, but he feels relieved when he’s at home, free to stretch his always squished ears and wiggle his tail around.
You’d never guess he has these extra features, because he looks totally normal once he hides them.
The point is that nobody knows it. Nobody, not even Pete.
--
A week before the party, Pete and Patrick meet after school to buy the necessary for their costumes, and it’s not a very easy task for Pete to find a Mad Hatter costume, since it’s pretty known thanks to Tim Burton’s movie.
“What about a DIY costume, Pete? We can’t check every single shop in the city, also because they’ll all answer you the same: we finished them,” Patrick groans exhausted after three intense hours of costume-hunting.
“Hell, how can costumes already be over?” Pete scoffs, dragging his friend to yet another shop.
“Maybe because Halloween is only next week,” Patrick replies simply.
Pete looks at him without a word, picking an orange curly wig, a top hat and the necessary to transform it and other clothes in a Mad Hatter costume, taking in Patrick’s suggestion.
“What should I wear for mine, by the way?” the red headed guy asks, eyeing the cat masks.
“I don’t know… tee and jeans? And you should definitely dye your hair and paint your face,” Pete states, showing his friend the rack of packages of washable hair dye.
Patrick stares at him blankly, Pete stares back. The former rolls his eyes and takes the blue dye, then two shades of blue face paint, fake whiskers and mittens and he’s ready to go transforming into the Cheshire Cat of the movie.
“Hey, Trick, you’re forgetting the tail and the ears!” Pete exclaims, wiggling a thin synthetic tail.
Patrick blushes faintly, hoping his friend doesn’t notice, “Oh, err…I think I have something left from past Halloween costumes and I’m pretty sure my mother dressed like a cat, one year, so I should still have the necessary somewhere,” he lies.
Pete slightly smirks imagining Patty Stump in a kitty costume.
“Oh, okay,” he finally shrugs, heading to the cashier to pay.
--
The party is in two hours, so Patrick has quite some time to get ready since Pete hates going extra early to parties (because he likes to make a super entrance, that’s why).
A long sleeved blue t-shirt and his pair of jeans with a hole for his tail are already lying on the bed. Patrick has closed himself in the bathroom and is freezing his ass off, sitting naked on the toilet bowl with the cold and smelly dye on his head and tail, reading the components of the dye product in every language possible to pass the time suggested. Once time has finally passed, he takes a long shower to take the extra dye off and carefully passes the hairdryer on his cat-ears and tail; he likes blue, but he feels weird sporting it as hair color, he’s already praying it’ll wash off already at the next shower.
After wearing his clothes, Patrick attentively paints his face with dark and light blue streaks in a rough human representation of the Cheshire Cat and glues the whiskers. Lastly, he takes the contacts off to show his cat-like pupils: it’s ironic how people is dressing up to be someone or something else for this holiday, while he’s basically undressing to be himself, only more colorful.
The doorbell rings and Patrick rushes downstairs to open the door, letting a beaming Pete in.
“What do you think, Trick?” he asks excitedly, turning to show his costume: if he wants he has quite a talent for assembling stuff, in fact he did an egregious job making a Mad Hatter costume almost out of scraps.
“Very cool, Pete,” Patrick nods cheerfully, his ears and tails moving along.
Pete notices, of course, “Dude?”
”Mh?”
The Hatter takes his time to finally look at Patrick’s costume: the clothes aren’t anything special, but the cat particulars are so good they look real. Too good. And…are those cat eyes? Pete’s initial thought is that Patrick took the costume pretty seriously, despite his initial reluctance, but the seed of suspect is starting to grow its roots, for how weird the reality is going to be. He decides to shrug it off.
“Whoa, Trick, you look awesome! Your eyes! And your ears and tail even move! Where did you get them?” he asks eagerly, diplomatically trying to get an explanation.
Patrick wills his cat parts at halt, “W-What…” he tentatively stutters.
“I didn’t know they made mechanical features!”
”Ehm…yeah, my mother’s cousin is into technological stuff and made her these parts for her costume a while ago…” Patrick explains, hoping his friend will fall for this lie.
Pete nods along before saying, “Ready to go?”
“Y-Yes, let me grab the mittens and a hoodie.”
“Bye, Mrs Stump!” Pete calls from the door, heading to his car.
“Bye, mom!” Patrick says, catching a glimpse of his mother’s worried face before closing the door.
--
The car is pretty silent, with Pete focused on the street while side-glancing at his friend’s cat ears and Patrick reading out loud the direction’s to Frank’s house off the flyer they got two weeks ago.
“May…May I touch them?” Pete finally asks hesitantly.
Patrick turns to look at him, feeling his cheeks heating slightly and blessing the virtual darkness outside and inside the car.
“O-okay…” he allows, cocking his head to Pete’s side. He can’t help but flick his left ear when Pete’s fingers delicately caress it, sensing a purr slowly rising from the depth of his throat and the tail threatening to move in appreciation.
“Amazing,” Pete whispers, loving the softness of the fur.
“Thanks,” Patrick says with a tiny voice, staring at his lap for the rest of the ride.
--
Frank’s house is relatively far, but they make it on time for Pete’s standards; they aren’t the only ones late, though, because they see two people entering the house right when Pete parks the car and other three are visible approaching from the end of the street, their capes slightly floating with every step.
They wait for the vampire-superhero-witch trio to enter the house before heading to the house as well and be welcomed like the egocentric guy-with-best-friend-along Pete is.
Frank Iero personally opens the door with a broad smile ruined by his -thankfully fake- rotted teeth, but hey, it’s Halloween and he’s dressed in his best zombie costume so far -Halloween at Iero’s is at its third edition and it has entered with all the rights in the myths of their high school, it will be dearly missed once Frank will graduate.
“Pete! Patrick! I’m so glad you’re here! And I couldn’t expect anything better by you two but matching costumes! Awesome choice, awesome choice! Come on in and stuff your faces with my tomb cake!” he shouts over the loud music, courtesy of someone dressed like Bob Marley.
Devils, bunnies, vampires, pirates and many others greet them from every corner (“See, Trick? There’s no one else with a Mad Hatter costume, I don’t understand why I wasn’t able to find a costume for me” “…”), while they make their way to the kitchen; there, a tall guy in a werewolf costume and the school’s jacket welcomes them with two Bacardi and two pieces of gray cake -Patrick’s even has half of a sugar spider.
“Pete! Patrick! Cool costumes! Wow, your ears look real, can I touch them?” the werewolf asks enthusiastically, taking his mask off and revealing himself as Gabe.
Patrick mechanically takes a step back while Pete steps half in front of him, “They ain’t anything special, dude, just fake ears, y’know?” he says to his tall friend, shit eating grin plastered on his face.
“Oh, well,” Gabe shrugs, “all right. But you look really good in this costume, Stump,” he compliments with a flirty smirk present on his tan face.
Patrick smiles shyly and looks away, not noticing that Pete is staring at him…and at his tail, that is vaguely swinging from side to side.
“Man, I knew you were a perfectionist, but you outdid yourself with this costume,” Gabe observes impressed.
“Uh?” Patrick turns to face him.
“Your tail.”
Patrick stiffens and gapes at him, trying to articulate a lie, but his mind is full of worry -how stupid has he been!- for the possibility of his secret to be revealed by Gabe Saporta, of all people: sure, he’s a friend (of Pete, though what is Pete’s is also his), but still...
“His cousin is an ace with electronics and made him moving ears and tails. Sorry but we gotta return to the party,” Pete quickly explains, dragging Patrick back in the chaotic living room and upstairs, looking for a free room. After hearing shrieks and curses from the couples they interrupted, they lastly find some peace in a small bathroom and Pete closes themselves into it; he finally turns to Patrick, concern and a hint of anger visible on his face and audible in his voice.
“Your ears and tail are real…for real, am I right?” he asks seriously, a pretty much rare event.
Patrick feels obligated to tell him the truth: Pete deserves it, after about ten years of dear friendship, and Patrick himself can’t stand to hold such a secret back from his best friend anymore.
“Yes,” he confesses in a whisper, ears down and tail twitching sadly.
“Whoa,” Pete exhales awestruck, “but…how…”
”I was born with extra genes that caused the growth of cat features: ears, tail, oval pupils, canines a bit sharper that humans’…We don’t even know how it could have happened, I mean, my parents haven’t been exposed to radiation or whatever…” his right ear twitches a bit in annoyance, because whether he doesn’t mind looking half like a cat, he still doesn’t understand why him.
He doesn’t know how to interpret Pete’s expression: he looks shocked but not enough to freak out and run away from him forever; he looks sympathetic but not in an irritating way; he looks fascinated but not like he considers Patrick a freak.
Pete finally punches him on the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
“For not telling me sooner, jackass.”
Before Patrick has the time to retort that his situation isn’t an exactly easy topic to talk about, he finds himself wrapped in a tight hug.
“I won’t tell anyone about it, and if they somehow discover your secret, I won’t let them make fun of you or spread voices. I’ll even kick the mad scientists out of your yard, if necessary, I don’t want them to drag you to Area 51 or what the fuck ever,” Pete promises resolutely, taking a step back to look in his best friend’s relieved eyes.
“That’s for aliens, but thanks,” Patrick flushes fondly and thanks his best friend heartily, leaving an embarrassed silence filling the bathroom.
Pete takes off the wig that is slowly cooking his head, immediately wearing the Hat back, and sits on the bathtub, “Pity I’m more of a dog-guy,” he says nonchalantly. Patrick knows he’s joking, but he still glares and hardly stops himself from hissing.
“Shut up.”
Pete holds his hands up in surrender, slightly turning his head to the side not to show Patrick he’s smirking. More silence ensues.
“So…” Pete coughs, “Saporta, uh?”
“Yeah, Saporta…I hope he believed you,” Patrick sighs.
“No, that’s not what I was referring to,” Pete’s lips stretch in a grin that doesn’t totally reach his eyes, receiving a puzzled look from his best friend, “You totally blushed when he hit on you, you looked like a cute girl in front of her crush,” he elbows Patrick playfully.
“Idiot,” the friend pushes him, blushing at the memory and with a shy smile on his mouth, “Of course I blushed, I’ve never been hit on by anybody, and Gabe is pretty popular.”
“Oooh, we’re already on a first name basis, uh?” Pete remarks with wiggling eyebrows, his mind stuck on I’ve never been hit on by anybody...they don’t know what they’re missing. Well, more chances for Pete, if he ever gets the guts to confess his undying love for his best friend…who’s partially a cat…what?
Patrick knocks his hat off grinning more widely, “I want to remember you that he’s one of your best friends.”
“But you’re the bestest of best friends,” Pete assures seriously, “though…” he adds in a low murmur.
“…Though what?”
“Nothing,” Pete picks his hat up and unlocks the door, “Ready to go back to the party?” he asks with a dim smile.
“Not before you explain what you were going to say,” Patrick leans against the door, staring at Pete, who blushes and looks away.
Patrick’s tail moves on its own, hesitantly reaching for Pete’s hand: the dark haired guy barely flinches, more because he didn’t expect the contact than for being grossed out by Patrick’s extra features, and it gives him millions of points in his best friend’s list.
“I’m just…” Pete starts, caressing the fluffy tail and bringing it to his face to feel the softness, “I’m relieved you don’t like Gabe more than me…”
“Of course I don’t, I’m too used to you by now,” Patrick half jokes.
Pete looks at him with an unreadable expression. Patrick is starting to get irritated by this behavior, and when he opens his mouth to tell his best friend to finally say things clearly, Pete kisses him square on the mouth. After the initial shock, Patrick responds to the kiss, his ears perked up and his tail waggling excitedly, his cheeks blushing brightly under the coats of blue paint on his face.
When they break apart, Pete hides under the brim of his top hat, a shy but satisfied smile fixed on his face.
“Hey, I should be doing that, I claim the copyright,” Patrick declares, snatching the hat off his friend’s head and wearing the Mad Hatter’s distinctive element.
Hat-less Pete holds the door open and bows slightly at Patrick’s passage, making him roll his eyes and kiss Pete in appreciation.
“It was about time that you two got together,” the drunkenly high voice of Brendon comes from the stairs, startling them. He has his red jacket unbuttoned and black top hat askew; he’s leaning heavily against his friend-with-benefits Ryan while getting upstairs, and together are stumbling towards a bedroom.
“Yeah, you were so oblivious to each other it wasn’t even funny, especially after something like forever,” Ryan remarks a second before the door of the room they got into slams closed, after his decorated face and frilly vest have disappeared in the dark bedroom.
Pete and Patrick stand in the hallway, finding themselves staring at the door that just closed but not wanting to know what their friends are going to perform in that room.
“Well…” Pete tries to break the silence, “apparently everybody knew I liked you but yourself…” he chuckles.
“I can say the same,” Patrick retorts, folding his arms on his chest playfully.
“But nobody knows and won’t ever know about your secret, I’ll be the only one to enjoy it,” Pete adds in a really low whisper, closing the gap between the two of them pecking those luscious lips.
“Perv. And I thought you said you were more of a dog guy?” Patrick observes, raising an eyebrow.
“Opposites attract,” Pete states and that’s the end of their conversation, sealed by a long and lusty kiss.
pairing: Peterick
pov: 3rd
rating: PG
summary: Pete and Patrick are invited to Frank's birthday/halloween party, a whole school event. Pete almost forces Patrick to dress up like the Cheshire Cat and the blonde is quite a step ahead...
disclaimer: not trueeeee MWAHAHAHA~ (it had to be an evil laugh)
A/N: it's only an halloween fic because there's an halloween party,no horror things involved.
It’s on everybody’s mouth: Frank Iero is going to throw a birthday-slash-Halloween party at his house in two weeks. Everyone is excited, let alone the birthday boy, who hasn’t stopped talking about it since practically the first day of school.
Patrick looks amused at the flyers Frank has covered the whole school with and picks the one attached to his locker.
“What are you gonna go as, Trick?” someone asks from behind him: it’s Pete, his best friend since first grade.
“Dunno yet,” Patrick shrugs, “What about you?”
“I have to think about it,” Pete says, eyeing the flyer he got from his own locker, “but we could go with matching costumes,” he finally adds with a grin.
Patrick chuckles, “Oh really? For example?” he inquires, heading to the first class of the day.
“Uhm…I don’t know, good and bad are so overrated…Maybe the Blues Brothers, or Jack Skellington and Sally, or Rhett Butler and Scarlett O’Hara?…”
“Why do I have the suspect that I’m going to be the woman?” Patrick asks sarcastically, giving Pete an evil eye.
The dark haired guy shushes him, “I got it, I got it!” he cries out, “Alice and the Mad Hatter!”
Patrick groans, “I thought you’d go with something more original, come on…I’m almost sick of it, you literally dragged me to watch the movie and collected every shit about it.”
Pete’s smile falters and he looks quite hurt; Patrick already regrets saying that.
“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, “So, who is going to be who?”
“I wanted to dress like the Mad Hatter, though you are the one who never fails to wear a hat, so maybe you should do him…but I’d have loved to see you dressed as Alice…” Pete pouts, already waving goodbye to his mental vision of Patrick with a long blonde wig, blue dress and nice shoes, his best friend will never accept.
“No, I won’t do Alice,” Patrick states resolutely. His friend sighs, he knew it.
“Then…what about the Queen of hearts? Or the Marching Hare, the Dormouse…the twins! We could go as the twins!”
Patrick laughs, “Fuck off, we don’t look anything alike…besides, I’ve never liked them.”
Pete scoffs, “You’re so picky, dammit…Oh! The Cheshire Cat! How on earth have I forgotten about him! What do you think, Trick?”
Patrick stiffens and keeps looking ahead.
“Come ooooon, Patrick,” Pete whines, “…It’s that or Alice,” he challenges, tired of this discussion already.
Patrick glares at him from the corner of the eye, but finally gives in.
“Fine, I’ll do the cat,” he sighs.
Pete beams and hugs him tightly, preceding his friend inside the classroom. Patrick takes a moment to sneak a hand under his trucker hat and scratch his extra ears before entering the classroom, right when the bell rings the beginning of the lessons.
--
Patrick Stump was born with animal genes. The ones of a cat, to be exact: he has a pair of pointy ears on top of his head, that he covers with a hat to lay them flat; a long fluffy tail, its fur the same strawberry blond of his hair and ears, that he rolls up to hide it better in his pants; slightly pointier canines; nice green eyes with vertical pupils that he corrects with special contacts -his sight isn’t as good, though, in fact he has to wear glasses.
His parents had to plead up and down, without telling his secret, to snatch a permission for him to always wear a hat at school and not to change with the other kids before and after physical education.
He actually doesn’t mind his extra parts, but he feels relieved when he’s at home, free to stretch his always squished ears and wiggle his tail around.
You’d never guess he has these extra features, because he looks totally normal once he hides them.
The point is that nobody knows it. Nobody, not even Pete.
--
A week before the party, Pete and Patrick meet after school to buy the necessary for their costumes, and it’s not a very easy task for Pete to find a Mad Hatter costume, since it’s pretty known thanks to Tim Burton’s movie.
“What about a DIY costume, Pete? We can’t check every single shop in the city, also because they’ll all answer you the same: we finished them,” Patrick groans exhausted after three intense hours of costume-hunting.
“Hell, how can costumes already be over?” Pete scoffs, dragging his friend to yet another shop.
“Maybe because Halloween is only next week,” Patrick replies simply.
Pete looks at him without a word, picking an orange curly wig, a top hat and the necessary to transform it and other clothes in a Mad Hatter costume, taking in Patrick’s suggestion.
“What should I wear for mine, by the way?” the red headed guy asks, eyeing the cat masks.
“I don’t know… tee and jeans? And you should definitely dye your hair and paint your face,” Pete states, showing his friend the rack of packages of washable hair dye.
Patrick stares at him blankly, Pete stares back. The former rolls his eyes and takes the blue dye, then two shades of blue face paint, fake whiskers and mittens and he’s ready to go transforming into the Cheshire Cat of the movie.
“Hey, Trick, you’re forgetting the tail and the ears!” Pete exclaims, wiggling a thin synthetic tail.
Patrick blushes faintly, hoping his friend doesn’t notice, “Oh, err…I think I have something left from past Halloween costumes and I’m pretty sure my mother dressed like a cat, one year, so I should still have the necessary somewhere,” he lies.
Pete slightly smirks imagining Patty Stump in a kitty costume.
“Oh, okay,” he finally shrugs, heading to the cashier to pay.
--
The party is in two hours, so Patrick has quite some time to get ready since Pete hates going extra early to parties (because he likes to make a super entrance, that’s why).
A long sleeved blue t-shirt and his pair of jeans with a hole for his tail are already lying on the bed. Patrick has closed himself in the bathroom and is freezing his ass off, sitting naked on the toilet bowl with the cold and smelly dye on his head and tail, reading the components of the dye product in every language possible to pass the time suggested. Once time has finally passed, he takes a long shower to take the extra dye off and carefully passes the hairdryer on his cat-ears and tail; he likes blue, but he feels weird sporting it as hair color, he’s already praying it’ll wash off already at the next shower.
After wearing his clothes, Patrick attentively paints his face with dark and light blue streaks in a rough human representation of the Cheshire Cat and glues the whiskers. Lastly, he takes the contacts off to show his cat-like pupils: it’s ironic how people is dressing up to be someone or something else for this holiday, while he’s basically undressing to be himself, only more colorful.
The doorbell rings and Patrick rushes downstairs to open the door, letting a beaming Pete in.
“What do you think, Trick?” he asks excitedly, turning to show his costume: if he wants he has quite a talent for assembling stuff, in fact he did an egregious job making a Mad Hatter costume almost out of scraps.
“Very cool, Pete,” Patrick nods cheerfully, his ears and tails moving along.
Pete notices, of course, “Dude?”
”Mh?”
The Hatter takes his time to finally look at Patrick’s costume: the clothes aren’t anything special, but the cat particulars are so good they look real. Too good. And…are those cat eyes? Pete’s initial thought is that Patrick took the costume pretty seriously, despite his initial reluctance, but the seed of suspect is starting to grow its roots, for how weird the reality is going to be. He decides to shrug it off.
“Whoa, Trick, you look awesome! Your eyes! And your ears and tail even move! Where did you get them?” he asks eagerly, diplomatically trying to get an explanation.
Patrick wills his cat parts at halt, “W-What…” he tentatively stutters.
“I didn’t know they made mechanical features!”
”Ehm…yeah, my mother’s cousin is into technological stuff and made her these parts for her costume a while ago…” Patrick explains, hoping his friend will fall for this lie.
Pete nods along before saying, “Ready to go?”
“Y-Yes, let me grab the mittens and a hoodie.”
“Bye, Mrs Stump!” Pete calls from the door, heading to his car.
“Bye, mom!” Patrick says, catching a glimpse of his mother’s worried face before closing the door.
--
The car is pretty silent, with Pete focused on the street while side-glancing at his friend’s cat ears and Patrick reading out loud the direction’s to Frank’s house off the flyer they got two weeks ago.
“May…May I touch them?” Pete finally asks hesitantly.
Patrick turns to look at him, feeling his cheeks heating slightly and blessing the virtual darkness outside and inside the car.
“O-okay…” he allows, cocking his head to Pete’s side. He can’t help but flick his left ear when Pete’s fingers delicately caress it, sensing a purr slowly rising from the depth of his throat and the tail threatening to move in appreciation.
“Amazing,” Pete whispers, loving the softness of the fur.
“Thanks,” Patrick says with a tiny voice, staring at his lap for the rest of the ride.
--
Frank’s house is relatively far, but they make it on time for Pete’s standards; they aren’t the only ones late, though, because they see two people entering the house right when Pete parks the car and other three are visible approaching from the end of the street, their capes slightly floating with every step.
They wait for the vampire-superhero-witch trio to enter the house before heading to the house as well and be welcomed like the egocentric guy-with-best-friend-along Pete is.
Frank Iero personally opens the door with a broad smile ruined by his -thankfully fake- rotted teeth, but hey, it’s Halloween and he’s dressed in his best zombie costume so far -Halloween at Iero’s is at its third edition and it has entered with all the rights in the myths of their high school, it will be dearly missed once Frank will graduate.
“Pete! Patrick! I’m so glad you’re here! And I couldn’t expect anything better by you two but matching costumes! Awesome choice, awesome choice! Come on in and stuff your faces with my tomb cake!” he shouts over the loud music, courtesy of someone dressed like Bob Marley.
Devils, bunnies, vampires, pirates and many others greet them from every corner (“See, Trick? There’s no one else with a Mad Hatter costume, I don’t understand why I wasn’t able to find a costume for me” “…”), while they make their way to the kitchen; there, a tall guy in a werewolf costume and the school’s jacket welcomes them with two Bacardi and two pieces of gray cake -Patrick’s even has half of a sugar spider.
“Pete! Patrick! Cool costumes! Wow, your ears look real, can I touch them?” the werewolf asks enthusiastically, taking his mask off and revealing himself as Gabe.
Patrick mechanically takes a step back while Pete steps half in front of him, “They ain’t anything special, dude, just fake ears, y’know?” he says to his tall friend, shit eating grin plastered on his face.
“Oh, well,” Gabe shrugs, “all right. But you look really good in this costume, Stump,” he compliments with a flirty smirk present on his tan face.
Patrick smiles shyly and looks away, not noticing that Pete is staring at him…and at his tail, that is vaguely swinging from side to side.
“Man, I knew you were a perfectionist, but you outdid yourself with this costume,” Gabe observes impressed.
“Uh?” Patrick turns to face him.
“Your tail.”
Patrick stiffens and gapes at him, trying to articulate a lie, but his mind is full of worry -how stupid has he been!- for the possibility of his secret to be revealed by Gabe Saporta, of all people: sure, he’s a friend (of Pete, though what is Pete’s is also his), but still...
“His cousin is an ace with electronics and made him moving ears and tails. Sorry but we gotta return to the party,” Pete quickly explains, dragging Patrick back in the chaotic living room and upstairs, looking for a free room. After hearing shrieks and curses from the couples they interrupted, they lastly find some peace in a small bathroom and Pete closes themselves into it; he finally turns to Patrick, concern and a hint of anger visible on his face and audible in his voice.
“Your ears and tail are real…for real, am I right?” he asks seriously, a pretty much rare event.
Patrick feels obligated to tell him the truth: Pete deserves it, after about ten years of dear friendship, and Patrick himself can’t stand to hold such a secret back from his best friend anymore.
“Yes,” he confesses in a whisper, ears down and tail twitching sadly.
“Whoa,” Pete exhales awestruck, “but…how…”
”I was born with extra genes that caused the growth of cat features: ears, tail, oval pupils, canines a bit sharper that humans’…We don’t even know how it could have happened, I mean, my parents haven’t been exposed to radiation or whatever…” his right ear twitches a bit in annoyance, because whether he doesn’t mind looking half like a cat, he still doesn’t understand why him.
He doesn’t know how to interpret Pete’s expression: he looks shocked but not enough to freak out and run away from him forever; he looks sympathetic but not in an irritating way; he looks fascinated but not like he considers Patrick a freak.
Pete finally punches him on the arm.
“Ow! What was that for?!”
“For not telling me sooner, jackass.”
Before Patrick has the time to retort that his situation isn’t an exactly easy topic to talk about, he finds himself wrapped in a tight hug.
“I won’t tell anyone about it, and if they somehow discover your secret, I won’t let them make fun of you or spread voices. I’ll even kick the mad scientists out of your yard, if necessary, I don’t want them to drag you to Area 51 or what the fuck ever,” Pete promises resolutely, taking a step back to look in his best friend’s relieved eyes.
“That’s for aliens, but thanks,” Patrick flushes fondly and thanks his best friend heartily, leaving an embarrassed silence filling the bathroom.
Pete takes off the wig that is slowly cooking his head, immediately wearing the Hat back, and sits on the bathtub, “Pity I’m more of a dog-guy,” he says nonchalantly. Patrick knows he’s joking, but he still glares and hardly stops himself from hissing.
“Shut up.”
Pete holds his hands up in surrender, slightly turning his head to the side not to show Patrick he’s smirking. More silence ensues.
“So…” Pete coughs, “Saporta, uh?”
“Yeah, Saporta…I hope he believed you,” Patrick sighs.
“No, that’s not what I was referring to,” Pete’s lips stretch in a grin that doesn’t totally reach his eyes, receiving a puzzled look from his best friend, “You totally blushed when he hit on you, you looked like a cute girl in front of her crush,” he elbows Patrick playfully.
“Idiot,” the friend pushes him, blushing at the memory and with a shy smile on his mouth, “Of course I blushed, I’ve never been hit on by anybody, and Gabe is pretty popular.”
“Oooh, we’re already on a first name basis, uh?” Pete remarks with wiggling eyebrows, his mind stuck on I’ve never been hit on by anybody...they don’t know what they’re missing. Well, more chances for Pete, if he ever gets the guts to confess his undying love for his best friend…who’s partially a cat…what?
Patrick knocks his hat off grinning more widely, “I want to remember you that he’s one of your best friends.”
“But you’re the bestest of best friends,” Pete assures seriously, “though…” he adds in a low murmur.
“…Though what?”
“Nothing,” Pete picks his hat up and unlocks the door, “Ready to go back to the party?” he asks with a dim smile.
“Not before you explain what you were going to say,” Patrick leans against the door, staring at Pete, who blushes and looks away.
Patrick’s tail moves on its own, hesitantly reaching for Pete’s hand: the dark haired guy barely flinches, more because he didn’t expect the contact than for being grossed out by Patrick’s extra features, and it gives him millions of points in his best friend’s list.
“I’m just…” Pete starts, caressing the fluffy tail and bringing it to his face to feel the softness, “I’m relieved you don’t like Gabe more than me…”
“Of course I don’t, I’m too used to you by now,” Patrick half jokes.
Pete looks at him with an unreadable expression. Patrick is starting to get irritated by this behavior, and when he opens his mouth to tell his best friend to finally say things clearly, Pete kisses him square on the mouth. After the initial shock, Patrick responds to the kiss, his ears perked up and his tail waggling excitedly, his cheeks blushing brightly under the coats of blue paint on his face.
When they break apart, Pete hides under the brim of his top hat, a shy but satisfied smile fixed on his face.
“Hey, I should be doing that, I claim the copyright,” Patrick declares, snatching the hat off his friend’s head and wearing the Mad Hatter’s distinctive element.
Hat-less Pete holds the door open and bows slightly at Patrick’s passage, making him roll his eyes and kiss Pete in appreciation.
“It was about time that you two got together,” the drunkenly high voice of Brendon comes from the stairs, startling them. He has his red jacket unbuttoned and black top hat askew; he’s leaning heavily against his friend-with-benefits Ryan while getting upstairs, and together are stumbling towards a bedroom.
“Yeah, you were so oblivious to each other it wasn’t even funny, especially after something like forever,” Ryan remarks a second before the door of the room they got into slams closed, after his decorated face and frilly vest have disappeared in the dark bedroom.
Pete and Patrick stand in the hallway, finding themselves staring at the door that just closed but not wanting to know what their friends are going to perform in that room.
“Well…” Pete tries to break the silence, “apparently everybody knew I liked you but yourself…” he chuckles.
“I can say the same,” Patrick retorts, folding his arms on his chest playfully.
“But nobody knows and won’t ever know about your secret, I’ll be the only one to enjoy it,” Pete adds in a really low whisper, closing the gap between the two of them pecking those luscious lips.
“Perv. And I thought you said you were more of a dog guy?” Patrick observes, raising an eyebrow.
“Opposites attract,” Pete states and that’s the end of their conversation, sealed by a long and lusty kiss.