Chapter Text
It’s fucking cold, which, okay, Pete admits, it’s the beginning of November, hence autumn, but still, it’s cold. And it sucks.
But fuck it, he wants to get coffee before his meeting, and he wants to see a his boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Pete smiles at the very thought of the word, the image of a sleepy Patrick curled up on the deep grey sofa in his office, fedora knocked from head, comes to his mind and fills his chest with warmth…god he was such a sap.
Since that day in the office weeks ago, things between the both the CEO and the barista had been going amazing. Date nights were planned between Pete’s hectic label responsibly and Patrick’s class and work schedule.
Patrick was also becoming somewhat of a constant figure at the office as well, thanks to Joe and Andy; both of them sneaking Patrick into Pete’s office for lunch or after classes, but mainly when Pete’s being a workaholic and needs a break. Pete would admit, though, that he enjoys seeing the strawberry blonde barista lounging on his couch in his office, or with in a chair seated by the floor to ceiling window with a book, sheet music, or laptop, eyes gazing out to look over the city. The older whiskey eyed man would also admit that they, too, have had their fair share of (sometimes heated) makeout session in Pete’s office, a few of those being interrupted by Joe, who has a tendency of not knocking before entering (many of those instances have ended with Joe slapping a hand over his face and turning around screaming ‘My eyes!! MY EYES!!’).
(Date)Nights and free time are often spent at Patrick’s apartment, cooking, listening to whatever records or samples Pete brings over, or watching a movie, and when not in Patrick’s cozy little home, they’re out and about. Pete offered to take them to his flat, however, explained that he was in the process of moving to another apartment closer to the office and was basically living out boxes. Patrick only laughed and offered to help if he needed it. A few days later, Pete ended up bringing over the moving box containing his entire vinyl collection, along with a box of pizza. Patrick, shaking his head with a beautiful smile, welcomed him in with a six pack of beer and a ready to use record player. Needless to say, it was one of Patrick’s and Pete’s favorite dates.
It works out, and it’s perfect; and Pete couldn’t have imagined anything better.
One thing, though, that had really captivated Pete, is the snippets of songs Patrick sings when he thinks he’s not listening. They’re rare, but when he catches the tune of something being hummed underneath Patrick’s breath or when he sings along to song, Pete’s heart sores. He’s tried coaxing more out of the barista, but Patrick simply blushes and shies away, always saying something to the effect of “I don’t sing Pete…Play guitar, yeah, but singing; I’m not made for that.”
Pete doesn’t fall for it, not one bit, but drops the topic, planting a kiss on the barista’s lips.
The CEO is broken out of thought as a hos phone buzzes in his pocket. The coffee shop is only a block a way and he could practically just see Patrick’s smile. It turns out to be Joe .and answers it, placing the phone to his ear.
“I’m out on a coffee run-”
“More like a Patrick run,” Joe snickers from the other line. “Hey, can you bring me and Andy something? Please dude? I’ll fall asleep flat on my fucking face if I don’t get caffeine in me.”
“Whatdaya want?”
“Something hot, extra strong, and with peppermint..”
“That sounds like your taking about Hurley”
“Fuck you, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s vegan, I’d tap that…ow! Don’t be jealous that you don’t get all of this.” Pete swears he hears Andy on the other end muttering something and grins. “Speaking of Andy, does he want anything?”
“Yeah, Andy wants his vegan, soy, not really a fucking latte but I don’t even fight with him about that…oh wait,” Pete hears some more chattering over the phone, “he says that he wants fucking almond milk….Hurley make up your goddamn mind, man!...okay for sure almond milk latte with hazelnut…”
Pete laughs. “I got it, I’ll be back in a bit.”
“We’ll cover your ass, man. And say hi to Patrick for us!”
He arrives at the Coffee for Closers, a familiar sight of customers and a steady workflow greet him, along with very familiar faces. Brendon is at the register today, lively chatting with a customer as Gerard and Patrick are making drinks and retrieving baked goods for various customers.
He waits in like and catches a glimpse of Patrick talking avidly to Gerard and two customers on the other side of the bar, a lanky blonde with dark sunglasses and another with a fro that could have rivaled Joe’s a while back before he decided to get a haircut. As they received their drinks, they move to leave, the lanky blonde called out back to the floosy-red haired barista. “See ya Gee!”
Gerard calls back with a grin as he brushed a stray strand of red out of his face. “Bye Mikey, bye Ray.”
“Bye guys!” Patrick adds, his back turned as he washed out some blenders.
“BYE TOROSAURUS AND MIKEYWAY!” joins Brendon a little too loudly, which causes many customers to giggle. Gerard shakes his head with a laugh, and as he does, he catches sight of Pete in line and waves. Pete waves right back. Patrick still has his back to the line as he works along the back counter, filling blended orders and calling out names.
When he reaches the front of the line, he notices Brendon shoot Gerard a look before nodding his head over to Patrick. The other barista nods in return and then turns to Patrick. Pete can’t help but watch as the red-headed barista talks to the shorter, who nods in return before disappearing to the back. The CEO cant help but feel that something was up…
“Hey Pete! What will it be today?” Brendon greets cheerfully.
“Hey Bren,” he smiles, “Can I have a Peppermint Mocha with a single, an almond milk Hazelnut Latte, and whatever Patrick feels like making today.”
“Okay, let me repeat this for ya...you want a Dirty Santa Claus, Vegan Nut Bar with extra nuts, and the Boyfriend’s Choice?”
Pete tries really hard not to crack up, but can’t help the snickers that escapes him, because how the hell could Urie do that with a fucking straight face. “Yeah, man, that sounds about right…”
“Awesome, and I’ll throw in a side of Fedora Lover Boy on break if you want, you know, just because you’re a loyal customer,” he smiles he bats his eye-lashes playfully.
Pete hands over his credit card, chuckling. “What can I say, I can’t take my business anywhere else now.”
“Damn right you can’t!,” Brendon grins, before turning around to look at the door Patrick went through moments ago. “We sent him to get some more cups from the back, but I hid them extra good so we could talk to you for a bit.” He motions over to Gerard who’s calling up two orders. “Fire-crotch will fill you in,” he whispers, and, as if having some sort of magical listening ability, Gerard replies curtly.
“If you ever call me that again, I’m sicking a coffee-deprived, wild Frank on your sorry ass, and he will destroy your piano…”
“NOT MY BABY EVANGELINE!!!” Brendon shrieked in terror.
“Then find another name Bren!”
“Okay, Fire Truck…we’ll go with Fire Truck…oooh! Or Red Tide, Crimson Tide? Wait no…that Hayley..”
Pete shakes his head as Brendon returns his card and makes his way over to Gerard, who greets him with a kind smile. “Hey Pete.”
“Hey Gerard, what’s up.”
Gerard looks over his shoulder before turning back to Pete and the expresso machine. “We’re going to be having Open Mic tomorrow night, and Patrick’s singing, so we kinda want you to come, you know, for moral support.”
Pete perked up at that, because Patrick hold him about it, but not the singing part. Yeah, he’s caught brief snippets of Patrick singing but never full out, and god, when does catch those rare hidden moments, Pete swears the room lights up and it’s amazing, hell, he’s even tried getting Patrick to record a cover at DCD2, you know, just to humor him, but the strawberry blonde Barista also declines, and laughs it off.
“I’m not recording material, Pete…” There’s always a small sad smile that Pete kisses away every time, but now he can’t help but wonder what put it there in the first place…
Pete wants to ask him about it, but that will before for another time, when they’re alone.
His focus comes back to Gerard as he makes the order after Pete’s; the CEO assuming that his boyfriend will be the one to make their drinks.
“Yeah, he told me about Open Mic night, but he didn’t mention anything about singing,” because it wasn’t like Patrick to not tell him something like that.
“Well, that’s the thing…he doesn’t know yet.” Oh…well there’s the kicker…
Pete looks at Gerard with a confused looked as the other simply grins while he packs ground expresso into a drip. “Come again?”
Gerard smiles at the CEO, eyes bright against pale skin, as he leans in. “We have a friend, a regular here at the shop. He and my brother Mikey are friends, and Travie, the guy, also has class with Patrick.” Pete nods; he’s heard of Travie, Patrick talks about him a lot because they have class together and he’s been working on a song with him as well for a final project or something like that for a composition theory class. “So Travie gonna be at Open Mic Night, he’s doing a song with this girl, but he’s going to ask Patrick to sing their song on a fly too, kinda like a test run for before finals...”
“When is he gonna ask Patrick?”
“If everything goes as planned, that night. And Travie’s shown my brother a snippet of the song with Patrick’s vocals on it, he says he’s awesome…”
“You think it will work? Getting Patrick to sing?”
Gerard shrugs, “Hopefully, McCoy pulls stuff like that on Patrick all the time, he probably won’t be surprised, but it’s fun. And if Patrick says no, Travie will back off and maybe next open mic, we can get Patrick to do an acoustic set, but it’s worth a try.”
Pete nods, thinking about the whole situation and how he would literally do just about anything to hear Patrick sing. “Tomorrow night?”
“Yup, first act is on at 7pm. I think Brendon is going to be on the set list, too.”
Pete tries to mentally go through his schedule for tomorrow night. Usually when Patrick works, they try not to plan anything, or he usually does something work or label related. He keeps drawing a blank and mentally notes to ask Andy or Joe if he’s free, or even if they’re free, so that the two of them can tag along, beside, they’re always looking for local talent.
“Yeah, I don’t know if I’m booked, but I’ll come,” Pete reassures Gerard.
“Perfect,” the other smiles, securing a lid onto a cup and calling out a name. “Even if he doesn’t go one, we’ll all be here. He’s covered shifts for Hayley and myself more times than we could count, we can probably let you sweep him away after the set. We tend to close shop early after the show.”
Before Pete could reply, Patrick appears in the door way, with a bag of cups under his arm, glaring at Brendon. “Goddamnit Brendon, I’m 5’5”! That wasn’t funny you ass!” The accused barista at the register starts to bubble with giggles that he so desperately tried to hold in.
Pete watches as Gerard looks over his shoulder to look at Patrick, blue-green hazel eyes piercing the other’s back. Pete swears that if looks could kill….
“Where did he put them?” Gerard asked, just as confused at fedora wearing barista. Patrick then turns and points back at the room he just came out of at a high angle. “He put them up there!” Brendon then collapses with manic laughter, tears forming at his eyes as he clutched his knee and his stomach.
Patrick, not really having it today, takes the long row of packaged cups and hits Brendon on the head with a frown, cheeks flushed red with anger. Gerard sighs before turning to Pete. “Okay, him putting the cups up high was not part of the plan….he just had to make them difficult to find…”
Pete ducks his head down and grins before Gerard calls out to Patrick. “Stump, I’ll deal with Brendon, there’s an order for you.” At that Patrick takes a deep breath and turns, eyes going wide and flush on his pale cheeks darkening slightly when blue-hazel eyes catch Pete’s warm whiskey.
“Having fun?” Pete asked the strawberry blonde, stupid grin still plastered on his face.
Patrick shook his head before removing his glasses and running his hand over his eyes, pinching his nose slightly. “If being ridiculed for your height it your definition of fun, I’m having oodles of it.”
“Pete has three orders, mind doing them after your break or you want me to do them?” Gerard offered to the other barista with a small smile. Patrick shook his head, untying the apron from around his waist and removing it from his neck. “It’s okay Gee, I’ll do it.” Patrick grabbed a cup from the back work area and made his way over to Pete, going through the opening in the side over to where the CEO was sitting.
“Hey,” greeted Pete softly as Patrick settle against his side, the dark haired man easily moving his arm to rest around the younger’s waist.
“Hi,” Patrick breathed out, leaning into his touch, his personal cup cradled in his hands. Leaning up, he kissed Pete’s cheek, soft lips feather light and warm against his cheek and he returned it with his own, a soft kiss close to the corner of the barista’s lips. “You got time?” Patrick asked relaxing against Pete’s side.
Pete fishes out his phone and checks the time. He’s got about half an hour before the he’s needed back in the office, which is more than enough time. Besides, he’s rather spend it here than in his lonely office. “Yeah, you mind me chilling out with you during your break?”
Patrick shakes his head before finding Pete’s hand, and, as if on instinct, Pete searches out for his; interlacing their fingers, Pete’s thumb running along the soft skin of his hand before motioning for him to follow.
Brendon is too busy with a customer to even notice as they move to a quieter location. In the shop, along the far side, are a series of three booths. Today, there’s no one really hanging out in that area so it seemed perfect for a small little escape from the sounds of blenders and coffee being made.
The couple sides into the seats, relaxing against the well loved and worn leather, and against each other, melting to mold perfectly into one...
Pete kisses the fedora perched on Patrick’s head, as his arm curls around his waist, fingertips tracing gentle shapes long his shirt covered-side. “How was class?”
Patrick hums as he takes a sip of his cup. “Boring, like always. I wish the professor didn’t take attendance, but that’s the only way we get grades, on top of that I have a paper due next Tuesday and we’re required to use lecture notes, so I have no idea how that’s going to go.”
Pete hated going to classes, and if he could manage skipping and still passing, he would do it, not to mention papers were a pain in the ass the get started. “So an all-nighter Monday night?”
Patrick chuckles, “You know it.” He offers Pete a sip of his drink, tilting his cup slightly up as an offering. Pete accept, taking a small sip from the straw at Patrick watches him, gauging his reaction. Pete’s eyes widen as he pulls away, looking at the cup, then at Patrick, and back at the cup. His expression is priceless in Patrick’s eyes and he can’t help but laugh, kissing his cheek.
“Your face! It looks like you just saw God or something.”
Pete is quick to find Patrick’s eyes after staring at the cup. “Dude, this is like, liquid gold,” he gasped in amazement, because holy shit, Pete knew coffee, he would go as far to say that he was just about as snobbish about coffee as he was pizza (snobbish? Well, maybe just having really strong opinions, but he wasn’t pick to say the least; a slice of pizza was a slice of pizza, but that wasn’t the point here. We’re talking about coffee, more importantly, Patrick’s coffee). “What’s this and can you make me one.”
“Hayley and I came up with it. It’s vanilla bean based with a pump of hazelnut, coconut, white chocolate and a single. We still haven’t figured out a name, but we’re hoping to have it on the menu by April, we figured it’ll be good for summer,” Patrick shrugged, snatching the cup away and taking a sip himself. Pete made a whimpering noise before the barista gave him with a roll of his eyes, handing the cup back to Pete’s awaiting hands. “You like it?”
“Fucking love it, Trick.”
The strawberry blonde nodded. “Awesome,” he smiled. “So,” started Patrick, changing the subject. “How’s your day going?”
Pete tells him about the meeting that he had to attending in the afternoon, and about this morning’s mini “crisis” that send a lot of people into a panic when someone lost a USB drive containing a new single that Corba was going to release, but then was found. But really, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
“Sounds like you had a lot of fun this morning.”
“More like on the verge of a panic attack…”muttered Pete as Patrick chuckled. Patrick’s phone began to buzz as the timer for his break went off. “Well, I guess I have to go back..”
Pete nodded, bringing their interlaced fingers to his lips as he kissed Patrick’s hand gently before kissing him soundly on the lips. It wasn’t anything over the top or anything too heated, after all, those kisses were saved for the (semi) privacy of Pete’s office or Patrick’s apartment, not exactly for a café of people. And besides, Patrick was still working, not to mention the probability of Brendon making a stupid comment or interrupting were both pretty high.
Patrick returned the kiss, his finger playing the dark hairs at the base of Pete’s neck even as they pulled apart. “Why can’t we just go to my apartment and make out on my couch to your vinyl collection?”
Pete hummed at the idea, no to mention the image of Patrick straddling his lap or having him on his back, relaxed and willing against the soft fabric of his secondhand couch. “Next time. Takeout and vinyls, and we’ll throw some makeouts somewhere in there.”
“That sounds like a plan,” Patrick smiled.
“You’re telling me, I’ll be having those images in my head during the meeting…I don’t know if that’s a blessing or curse, ‘Trick.” The dark haired CEO laughed.
“Soon,” the strawberry blonde reassured him, “Maybe this weekend. I work tomorrow night, but I’ll be free Saturday….”
Tomorrow night, Open Mic Night, now Pete definitely needed to make plans to attend. “Sounds good babe.” Patrick blushes at the endearment as they both exit the booth, making their back back to the coffee bar when he watches Patrick get back to work with his order. They talk more over the bar about Patrick’s classes and about the new Cobra single, and it’s nice, and Pete, frankly, doesn’t want to leave.
When Patrick finishes his order, all three coffee’s steaming hot and ready to go, along with a side of three cookies, Pete really considers calling Joe and Andy and saying ‘Fuck it, screw the meeting’ but he can’t. Before handing him his cookies, Pete readjusts his coat and the blue-hazel eyed boy reaches out fix his scarf with a flush on his cheeks. Once he’s done, Patrick hands him the to-go tray with smile that Pete swears just makes him want to melt and kiss the boy silly.
He gives in to the kissing, letting his lips slide over Patrick’s gently, chastely. “I’ll call you later?” he asks, his breath tickling the barista’s lips. The younger boy nods, kissing him once more on his cheek. “Have a good day.”
“You,too,” and Pete feels like a fucking sap, but he doesn’t want to leave. And apparently, Patrick see it and laughs. “You’re going to be late for your meeting, Pete.”
After another kiss, and another sly comment about getting a room by Brendon, Pete goes, and as he’s walking back into the cold, he re-visits his mental note about Open Mic Night and prays he doesn’t have anything tomorrow night.
He wouldn’t miss Patrick singing for the world.