muses_w_remotes | 6.2. Shaft

Oct 23, 2008 16:53

6.2. "You're too hot, man. You gotta step off a bit."
| Shaft

Co-written with mrpublicity | Follows THIS & THIS

Pat pushed his cheek into his hand as watched the busy streets of New York pass by the car window. “Why couldn’t Benny just bring it home for you, darling? It’s not like he’s going to go another twenty four hours without shagging you. I’ll be out of your hair and he can have you all to himself again.”

“It’s my favourite jacket, sweetiepie and it’s the only thing that goes with my purple Jimmy Choos. You don’t want me to be all uncoordinated, do you?” Jules asked as they pulled on to the Manhattan street that housed The Bondi. She was bouncing inside, but had to keep a lid on it. As what now had come to be named Operation Pat Needs Shagging, the group had worked together to manage to get Aiden at Luke’s bar simultaneously to Jules suddenly needing her favourite coat that she had ‘left’ at the bar the previous Friday night. Of course, the coat was actually in the back of Benny’s van, but Pat didn’t know that. Jules was also about to become the World’s Worst Driver and forget how to park, meaning Pat would have to duck into the bar to find the coat that wasn’t there, meaning he’d need to look for it. Luke and Tab were also there, so it was there job to make sure Aiden was poignantly placed when Pat arrived. A text message to them from Jules told them they were on their way, so the plan was practically fool proof. The only downside was that Pat seemed to be lacking his usual bouncy lustre. He was flat and lethargic, even a little washed out around the cheeks. He’d assured Jules he was fine, though, so the plan had kicked right into gear as so finely mapped out.


Pat shrugged slightly, uncharacteristically passing up a chance to comment on fashion choices, especially something as vital as Jimmy Choo. “I’ll wait in the car,” he decided as they approached the bar. The only thing was, Jules drove right past a perfectly decent parking space across the street. He turned to look at her with a frown.

“Oops! I completely missed that one,” Jules said with feigned innocence. She double-parked out the front of the bar. “Why don’t I just duck around the block? Would you mind running in and getting the jacket for me, honey? I’m sure the spot will still be there when I came back.”

Pat was going to protest, but instead he just sighed and unclipped his seatbelt, throwing it over his shoulder. “I don’t understand how you forgot it if it was your favourite, darling. You’re a disgrace to gays and the fairer sex.” He got out of the car with an annoyed scrunching up of his lips and made his way to the entrance of the bar. The jacket better have been there in easy reach. He was gradually starting to feel more and more off colour as the day wore on. He just wanted to get on the road back to Princeton as soon as they could so he could curl up in bed before the afternoon was out and not move until he felt better. It was a relief to know he didn’t live alone anymore, also. Before, any hint of not feeling well had him worried that he could wake up in yet another hospital bed.

Despite the closed sign, a small push indicated they were open. Pat went inside and glanced around the empty club. “Hello?” he called out. He really, really hoped Tab and Luke weren’t doing the nasty on his desk or something perhaps even more unsettling to a gay guy.

At Luke’s encouragement, Aiden had been helping himself to a drink behind the bar. He and Tab had disappeared downstairs to ‘change the draught kegs’. Yeah, right. Even Aiden knew it didn’t take that long to change kegs. He nearly dropped the beer bottle in fright at the voice. It wasn’t familiar and with a Brit accent, he couldn’t place it until he turned and saw who the voice belonged to. Mr Respect himself. And fuck, did he look even better than he did on Friday night. The clothing was still clearly trendy and ultra fashionable, but without the clubby flare and glamour, Aiden found himself even more attracted. Pat’s strawberry blond hair was hanging loosely in his face and his blue eyes were without any eyeliner. He was fucking hot and Aiden almost found himself lost for words… unusual for a guy who made a living of knowing what to say and how to say it. He cleared his throat and leaned on the bar. “Hey,” he greeted with a smile. “Can I help you with something?”

Pat turned, meeting the smile with one of his own. “Hello, darling. Is Luke here? My friend left her jacket here and she said Luke would have it to pick up.”

“He’s downstairs playing with Tab’s keg.” Aiden smirked. “I mean, changing the keg. He didn’t say anything about a jacket, but he shouldn’t be too long.” As his eyes remained on the other man, he couldn’t help but wonder what the ‘something’ was about Pat that Tab and Luke had alluded to. It didn’t look like the guy had a second head, though that just made him wonder how it would be to give Pat head. And it took all of his self-control not outwardly react to that thought.

Pat sighed and rested his hand on the bar. “It’s okay. I’ll just wait for him.” And Jules could wait, too. It’s her fault he was here in the first place. He offered the other man a smile. “Are you barman on the day shift? I’m sure I would’ve noticed if you were serving the other night.”

Aiden held his hand up with a laugh. “No, no. I don’t work here. I work for Luke, but not as a barman.” He came out from behind the bar to offer Pat his hand. “Aiden Lewis. I’m Luke’s marketer and now the publicist for Tab’s band.”

Pat took Aiden’s hand and gave it a light shake. “Patrick Preston, but most just call me Pat.”

“Luke and Tab actually mentioned you,” Aiden explained with a small clear of his throat. “I was asking about the group. You’re a nurse, right? In Anaesthetics?”

Pat smiled, nodding. “That’s me. You got the pleasant description of me,” he joked. “Others aren’t so lucky. Your job must keep you on your toes.”

Aiden laughed. “You could say that. Luckily I’m in a position to pick my own schedule. Means I can still have somewhat of a social life. Did you want a drink while you wait?”

Pat glanced at the bar and shook his head. “No, thanks, darling.” He just knew putting anything near his mouth right now was going to be a one way ticket to pukeville. It was just a bad day; he had them often. Rightfully, he probably shouldn’t have even gotten out of bed but he wanted to get home to Princeton. New York was great and he used to love the place, but now he could only take it in small doses, especially when he was feeling less than peachy. “You should up his commission for making you watch the place like this. I know small talk can be painful at the best of times.”

“Oh, he already pays top dollar for me,” Aiden replied, amused. “Actually, I should be honest. I was here the other night when you were with all your friends. I was catching the band’s gig under Luke’s recommendation. I’ve been trying to think of a way to not be cheesy and forward, but I was wondering if you’d like to get a drink with me sometime…”

Pat’s eyebrows shot up and he blinked. “Oh! I, um…” he began, more than flustered. “I don’t live locally, I’m sorry. In fact, I’m heading back home right after we leave here. I’m in Princeton and only here now and again, but thank you. I’m very flattered, darling.” He smiled, blue eyes searching over Aiden’s face to make sure he hadn’t offended the guy. There was no denying he was hot, but, like he’d told Riley, it wasn’t the right time. And now the small talk was going to be even more painful.

“Well, not to sound like I’m harbouring bad pick-up lines, but I have a very nice car and I really don’t mind driving. I work better with black and white, if you’re not interested, just say. I won’t hold it against,” Aiden assured him with a smile.

“No, it’s not that, darling…” Pat floundered. He knew it wasn’t the guy’s fault, but he felt thrown off and wasn’t exactly sure how to really face this situation. It was the first time anyone had asked him out in months. Of course, he hadn’t put himself in any situations to really get hit on. He had his arse pinched numerous times at the Friday gig, but he figured that was just because there wasn’t a hugely obvious gay crowd that night. It was getting harder and harder for him to feel attractive and appealing. Since the diagnosis, he made little effort to socialise beyond their bunch and it suited him. Everyone there knew him and knew how aggressive the MS was in him. They knew how to handle it and they knew how to handle him handling it. And why would anyone want to shoulder that by choice?

The last thing Aiden wanted to do was make Pat feel uncomfortable. He held his hand up with a small laugh. “Hey, it’s okay, Pat. Just thought I would try my luck. You’re hot and seem like a great guy. Can’t blame a bloke for trying, huh?”

Pat put his hand up to his forehead and realised he’d broken out into a sweat. Bloody hell, why couldn’t be hit on during one of his good days? “I’m really not worth the effort, darling. Really,” he insisted, looking at Aiden helplessly from under his hand. “I’m more high maintenance than Paris and Britney combined. That’s not a good a thing.”

“I like a challenge,” Aiden told him and then frowned as he noticed the dampness on Pat’s forehead. It was far from warm in the empty bar and he didn’t peg Pat to be the sort who would break out into a panicked sweat just for being asked on a date. He reflexively placed his hand on Pat’s arm. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

It was Pat’s intention to answer, it really was. But he didn’t get the chance. The throbbing dizziness that was already making itself known in his head increased ten-fold to meet an abrupt lurch of his stomach. It was barely two more seconds before he committed the biggest faux pas in dating history - he threw up all over a romantic prospect.

All characters referenced with permission

Word Count | 1,830

[with] aiden, [co-written] aiden, [ship] aiden/pat, [comm] muses_w_remotes

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