Chapter Text
Becoming a full fledged, fully functional “responsible adult” and “good provider” was not a status that Pete thought would occur in his early 20’s...or AT ALL for that matter, really. For the most part, his entire college career could be described as more or less a four year run of natural talent coupled with a healthy dose of dumb luck. He was one of those people that was inherently gifted and found quick success in any avocation he showed an interest in. Consequently, Pete rarely, if ever, struggled in his regular studies and was therefore mostly exempt from having to suffer the crushing anxiety of needing to maintain a certain GPA to avoid losing his scholarship, much less the mind numbing fear that he would flunk out altogether. He didn't need to engage in endless sessions of “burning the midnight oil”; cramming desperately for the hope of at least a passing grade. Nah, he was one of those savants that would breeze by with barely a note taken during class and yet still consistently received a 95% or higher on every exam, paper, project, or presentation. Sure, he had a mountain of schoolwork and responsibilities, but since success always came so easily for him, there was never the overwhelming accompaniment of WORRY or ANXIETY or CONCERN that seemed to plague everyone else. He had witness many a soul break down from the wearing stress and cry endlessly over their struggles and fear of possible failure. Pete was empathetic and always did his best to lend a shoulder to cry on and help out as much as he could, expending more effort in trying to be an emotional support to his friends and classmates than he ever would put forth in the actual assignment. While all of all of his peers were out there busting ass, studying with every spare moment outside of class or whatever shitty job they had to work in order to supplement their suffocating college experience, Pete “Peter Pan” Wentz was able to enjoy his spare time by joining any and every local band in the scene.
“Band Whore” was a title he happily accepted with a smirk and a wink.
But don't take things the wrong way. It wasn't like Pete took his natural talents at excelling in university lightly and he most definitely did not take it for granted. He wasn't some over privileged, entitled rich kid whose Mommy and Daddy were quick to bail out and rescue at the first sign of trouble (well, TECHNICALLY he was but he never revealed that truth or engaged in behaviors that would necessitate him calling in that favor). He was fully aware and thoroughly conscious of the blessed nature of his existence and was undeniably grateful for it.
Pete's enchanted luck continued to follow him past graduation and into his aspiring vocation. How many people manage to finish school, graduating with flying colors and then get to make a living (a comfortable one at that) by taking freelance jobs IN WRITING? He was getting paid to do something he absolutely loved and was able to make his own schedule and even got to work from home.
Lady Luck took a shining to Pete and always seemed to be gifting him with the absolute best she had to offer.
So this feeling of RESPONSIBILITY and CONCERN and ANXIETY that came with accepting Patrick into his life was a very new experience for Pete. He started feeling the first tickles of these emotions probably a mere five minutes after he first laid eyes on Patrick that fateful day behind his friend’s coffee shop when this sweet, filthy kid ate a blueberry muffin from his hand and then buried himself into his chest. These emotions only continued to grow more intense as time passed. Pete now had an actual reason to sail away from his home world of Neverland in order to grow up, and he dove into this new role wholeheartedly.
The downside to becoming a “responsible adult” and “good provider” was that this meant he was now accepting more job offers which resulted in spending less time with Patrick. While this bummed Pete out, he was grateful that he at least got to work from home for the most part. So, it wasn't that bad really. Yeah, he now had to go to regular meetings and pop into various publication offices several times a week, but that usually only lasted half a day. Plus, on some of those days he didn't even have to dress in actual business attire.
Really...not bad at all.
**
Patrick had always displayed a fierce amount of possessiveness towards Pete but once he became settled in his new home, he started to chill out and seemed pretty secure in their relationship. Generally speaking, he was rather complacent and docile; always opting to do whatever Pete wanted and doing whatever he could to keep the older man feeling happy and cared for. Patrick took great pride and pleasure in his constant doting on Pete.
Then there was that one day that Pete came home smelling strongly like “others”.
The first time Pete had to leave Patrick for an entire work day ended up in near disaster. The neko had become accustomed to Pete having to leave the house for a few hours here and there so the idea of an entire day alone didn’t really phase him. He used the time to clean up the entire place and plan out what to make for dinner (he was still a novice when it came to using the kitchen appliances so this was basically just a call over to Joe asking for the number to Pete’s favorite delivery place). When 6pm came around, Patrick waited in the living room, excited to greet his boyfriend after a long day at work. 6:22pm was displayed on the clock when he could hear Pete’s tell-tale footsteps from down the other end of the corridor soon followed by the keys opening up the lock of the front door. Patrick shot up, throwing himself into Pete’s arms but as soon as they hugged, Patrick reared back and fell to the floor as if he had been slapped. Pete looked down at the wide eyed neko in confusion, asking him what was wrong. Patrick immediately crouched defensively, ears flattened on top of his head and just started hissing. Pete was vividly reminded of that first day they met in the alley and color drained from his face.
“Trick? Baby, what the fuck happened? What’s wrong?”
Patrick stood up to full height and bristled. “You SMELL! You smell like OTHERS!” Patrick inclined his head and sniffed the air, mouth slightly opened to allow the scents to wash into his vomeronasal organ.
In doing so, Patrick was able to catalog all of the scents of the strangers that Pete had interacted with that day. There was an office party celebrating the birthday of Diane, the head office administrative assistant, that Pete attended even though he didn't really know most of the staff since he only popped in intermittently. He had become a little friendly with Diane, though, since he always had to check in with her in the days he came by. Because of the party, he encountered more introductions, handshakes, and hugs than he would ever normally engage in. Patrick could identify almost every single physical interaction that Pete had encountered but there was one particularly disturbing smell that lingered. A female...strongly floral with a pungent back beat of sweat and fertility.
A mating pheromone.
Estrus.
Patrick completely lost his shit.
It was the first time Pete experienced the neko’s dangerously feral temper. Patrick was inconsolable, far beyond reason. He went post verbal and resorted to growls and screams, throwing random objects and prowling every inch of the apartment touching and scenting anything he could reach. Pete understood what was going on and remained surprisingly calm, watching Patrick in silence before slinking off to the bathroom to shed his clothes and take a shower. When he emerged, Patrick had thankfully calmed down and was sitting on the bed crooning sorrowfully to himself. Pete buried his work clothes at the bottom of the hamper (making a mental note to do an emergency load of laundry later that night) and quickly dressed himself in the sleep clothes he had used the night before. He wrapped his arms around Patrick, drawing him close but the neko remained rigid. Patrick oscillated his head from side to side and once he was sure that all of those disturbing smells were no longer clinging to his boyfriend, he finally relaxed into Pete's embrace. After composing himself for a few minutes, Trick’s reason and speech started to return and they were able to discuss the matter.
They ended up skipping dinner that night and instead spent the night kissing, marking, and rutting against each other; bathing in each other’s scents. There was one significantly inspirational moment where Pete, both in the throws of desperate desire and the need to comfort his neko, rolled Patrick onto his stomach, grabbed a fistful of hair and firmly bit at the back of the boy’s neck. Trick stilled instantly so Pete continued more firmly and started growling in his ear...muttering MINE over and over again. That seemed to be the solution to that issue. So since then, whenever Pete had a meeting or knew he would have to be at the office for a significant amount of time, he made sure to use this same technique before leaving. It reassured Patrick knowing that his Pete would smell like him and even if Pete came home smelling like “others” again, it would be mingled and diluted by Patrick’s own strong claim scents.
It didn't solve the issue with Patrick's possessiveness, but it helped keep possible future temper tantrums in check.
**
With all this newfound determination and grown up responsibilities taken into consideration, it shouldn’t have been surprising that Pete didn’t notice when Patrick started acting a little “off”. Not at first, at least. Eventually, Pete did notice that Patrick seemed quieter, more lethargic, and was found to be napping often, even before bedtime. Other than those few symptoms, he seemed perfectly healthy. Pete tried to keep from jumping to conclusions or thinking the worst was about to happen. I mean, sleeping a little bit more than usual or having to take several naps throughout the day wasn’t a big deal, right? Pete did have a few fleeting moments where he wondered if this wasn’t the manifestation of some depression in Patrick. Pete wasn’t a stranger to depression in the slightest. Before turning to the luxurious career of freelance journalism and part time aspiring author, he was definitely a well known and much recognized “Queen of the Scene”, playing his bleeding heart out in any local band that would let him put his every thought out on stage (lyrical assassin, indeed).
But Patrick, for the most part, just seemed peaceful and content despite his odd sleeping schedule and lethargy and he never appeared fidgety or upset. Perhaps Pete was being a little too overprotective or overly dramatic.
Typical.
Pete surprised himself, though. Who would have ever thought (himself included) that the most self centered person he knew could be so actively involved in the care of another person? Accepting someone and loving them unconditionally was certainly opening Pete’s world up to a whole new level of selflessness and understanding.
He reluctantly comes to the reasonable conclusion that he’s just being overprotective and over stressed. He's been working insane hours (for him, at least), stressing over deadlines and bills and Patrick. He wasn't used to this type of lifestyle and probably just needed chill out and relieve some stress.
Deciding that a venting session may help, Pete called up Joe to get together for “therapeutic guy time” during his lunch break on one of the days he had to go into the publisher’s office. Out of all of Pete’s friends, Andy and Joe were the only ones he ever felt 100% comfortable being his true self around. With them, he could easily open up and was never made to feel insecure or in any way judged, no matter what type of bat shit craziness came out of his mouth. Andy was the guy he went to when he needed to have a patient and avid listener. There were times when Pete needed to manically spew his poetic diatribes or carry on some angst fueled soliloquy just for the sake of purging the mental diarrhea from his mind. He didn’t always need a solution to a problem...sometimes just a stoically silent listener was what was in order. More often than not, Pete turned to Andy for conversation but today he needed something a bit more two sided. That’s where Joe’s conversational skills excelled. Joe had a more interactive approach and enjoyed playing Devil’s Advocate with clear precision and wit. Joe may not always have the best ideas or know all the answers, but he was a great sidekick to co-navigate any given philosophical journey.
When Pete finished the morning meeting over at the New Times, he headed out of downtown to meet up with Joe at the Starbucks located in the strip mall next to the vet office he worked at. Normally, Pete preferred to frequent local businesses or Mom-N-Pop joints but he was willing to put aside his trade politics in order to hang out with his best friend. When Pete walked into the coffee house, he glanced around and noticed that Joe had not yet arrived so he went to the counter to place his order. At quick glance, the options on the menu board seemed daunting so he just opted for something simple. When his venti iced coffee (black with three splenda...what the fuck was up with all of these confusing accoutrements?) was ready, he made a bee-line for a vacant table located in the back corner of the establishment. He took the rear seat so he could face out towards the front door and keep an eye out for an unmistakably unruly afro. He slowly sipped his beverage while scrolling through Tumblr to kill some time. After a few minutes of caffeine fueled dank meme hunting, Pete was greeted with a whoosh of air tinted with the tell-tale scent of medical antiseptic and pot.
“Motherfucking P-Weezy, what’s shaking, sexy?” Joe exclaimed while clapping him roughly on the shoulder.
“Trohmosexualis! As I live and breathe!” Pete chirped in reply as he pushed his seat back to stand up and wrap his friend in a proper bear hug.
“Man, it feels like I haven’t seen you in years. I was starting to forget how fucking ugly your face is.” Joe beamed as he tightly hugged back his friend. “I’ma go get me a coffee. It’s been a fucking LONG day. I was paged to come in at 5am for an emergency call and it has been non-stop since then. Hey, you want anything else while I’m up there or are you good with just that?”
“Nah, I already ate so I’m fine.”
“Okay man, I’ll be right back.”
When Joe returned a few minutes later (with a panini and some blended concoction topped with a healthy dose of whipped cream and covered in caramel drizzle...seriously, what the fuck?), Joe immediately cut to the chase knowing all too well that Pete needed to work something out.
“Okay Petey-Pie, let’s cut the pleasantries and just get down to business.” Joe sat up straight and folded his hands on top of the table in a mock display of professionalism. “What brings you to my office today?”
Pete couldn't help but laugh. Joe always had an infallible way of diffusing the seriousness of a situation so easily. “Damn Joe, I haven't even said a single word and you're already making me realize how unnecessarily I'm overreacting.”
Joe picked up his drink and took a long sip while squinting his eyes and staring at Pete appraisingly. “Well, perhaps,” Joe said as he put his drink back down on the table. “But tell me what's up anyways. It's been FOREVER since we talked and I need some new roast material from you.”
“I fucking hate you, bitch.”
“I know. Now come on, tell ya boy what's up.” Joe said sweetly as he patted Pete's hand.
Pete went ahead and just started rambling about all the changes his life had been going through and the veritable roller coaster of emotions he had been experiencing while Joe listened in uncharacteristic yet companionable silence. Some of Andy’s calm and focused nature must finally be rubbing off on him after all those years of marriage.
“Sounds like you already need a vacation.” Joe grinned when Pete paused his rant to take a breath. “I'm kinda serious. I've never seen you so...I dunno. Like, my little boy is all grown up now or something.”
Pete snorted loudly. “Bitch, I'm like five years older than you! What the fuck?”
“You know what I mean.” Joe smiled warmly sitting back in his chair. “So, how's Patrick? Everything good with you guys?”
Pete’s smirk faded into a soft smile. “Good, we're good. I think. I mean...ugh, Joe. I feel like I haven't seen him in ages and I’m starting to think he's unhappy. I've noticed he's been sleeping a lot lately. But like, A LOT. I'm scared maybe he's going through some depression or something but I don't know how to talk to him about it.”
“Well, the kid has had a super rough life and has never had stability before.” Joe stated. “He's mad attached to you, also. Maybe he's just going through a little bit of separation anxiety now that your work schedule has increased. You know, all jokes aside, maybe a mini vacation wouldn't be a bad idea. It'll help to reinforce the fact that you're not abandoning him and it'll help for you to relieve stress by reconnecting physically. I'm sure your love life has slowed down since the work has picked up.”
Pete grimaced slightly and grumbled. “Hmph, I'd have to have a sex life to start with for it to slow down.”
Joe froze and almost dropped his coffee on the table. “What?! Wait, you guys haven't, um...I mean...you haven't…”
“No, Joe. We haven't had sex.”
Joe just continued to stare at Pete with his mouth slightly opened and wearing a wildly confused expression.
“I mean, we're INTIMATE and stuff but yeah...no. Nothing below the belt except for some dry humping that just leaves me with a raging boner for days.”
Joe just kept on staring.
“I don't even know if the kid is like, wired for sex or something and I sure as hell don't want to rush him or pressure him into something he's not prepared for. He really seems to enjoy making out and everything and so do I, but ugh...I feel like I'm suffering from the worst case of blueball-itis and I can't even jerk off cos he's always around and doing that just feels inappropriate or something and...oh my god, Joe. It's like, I've been getting laid on the regular since I was in high school and now I'm on this semi self imposed dry streak. And it sucks so bad cos I am REALLY attracted to Trick. He just drives me crazy. Oh man, he does this thing with his tongue when we make out and I can just IMAGINE how good it would feel if he did that to my-”
“OH MY GOD, DUDE! STOP RIGHT THERE, PLEASE!”
Pete was startled out of his manic monologue and back to reality. “Oh shit, I'm sorry. This is not the kind of conversation you want to engage in, is it?”
Joe finally managed to snap out of his shocked expression and tried to compose himself by fiddling with the straw of his coffee. “Well, I think we can safely conclude the cause of all your recent stress, perhaps?”
Pete shrugged his shoulders with a sheepishly shy look on his face. “Um, yeah I suppose so. Shit. I didn't mean to be so stereotypically male but I guess there is a bit of ‘sexual tension’ to be blamed.”
“You know,” Joe started. “Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to cut back on some of the writing gigs. It's not like you'll ever really be hurting for cash or anything and maybe spending more time together would help with both your funks.”
“Probably. You know, Joe...you may prove useful after all.”
**
Pete decided to act on some of Joe’s words of wisdom and ended up scaling back on the number of writing assignments that he accepted. Money wasn’t really an issue. He had a considerable nest egg already, both from placing unused earnings in savings as well as a generous starting fund gifted by his parents after graduation. Pete lived simply and never had an extravagant lifestyle so it was easy to save up. He could tell right away how much this decision pleased Patrick, even if the kid did his best to never express any type of displeasure in the first place. There were more soft, beaming smiles, more doting affection, more longing gazes. Pete made sure to take Patrick out to as many places as possible to make up for the endless weeks he had to be left alone in the apartment while Pete either left to attend meetings or was holed up in his office typing out drafts after draft for a pending deadline. If Pete had been the one to be left alone, he would have been beyond stir crazy after the first day of being cooped up inside the same four walls with very little distraction. For Patrick, the added activity and stimulation seemed to excite and electrify him, but by the end of each of their days together he would fall into a deep and bone-weary sleep. In Pete’s opinion, Patrick was much more exhausted than any of their activities should warrant. Pete took ample notes of any minor detail of Patrick’s health and behaviour just in case something was amiss and not just the product of his overactive imagination and penchant for the dramatics.
After a while, Patrick’s increase in sleep did start up again, but this time it was to the point where it was definitely impossible to ignore. After about three days of almost non-stop napping, Pete tried to address the matter. They were sitting on the couch early one evening, Patrick’s eyelids falling heavily as they watched The Great British Baking Show (one of Patrick’s absolute FAVORITES). His furry ears were lopped of to either side of his head and his breathing had turned to deep and steady inhalations mixed with the typical rumbling purr that always accompanied.
“Trick? Hey, Trickydoll. Wake up, baby. Come on,” Pete said as he poked lightly, but rather determinedly, at Patrick’s side to ensure his voice wasn’t ignored. Patrick, always one to evade the disruption of sleep, grumbled out his annoyance while attempting to swat away the incessant pokes that Pete was delivering. Pete, however, was quite determined not to be ignored.
“Baby, seriously,” he spoke in a much louder and firmer voice while he started to shake Patrick’s shoulders. “I really need you to wake up for a second. Don’t pretend you can’t hear me. That’s not very nice, Tricky.”
Patrick, rather than continue to fight fruitlessly against his boyfriend’s relentlessness, cracked open his eyes with a scowl and crawled into Pete’s lap. The neko settled himself securely, legs bracketing either side of Pete’s thighs, wrapping arms tightly around his neck, and buried his face into the dark haired man’s chest. Pete closed his eyes and took a deep breath to train his patience and wrapped his own arms around Patrick’s back. Patrick released a soft mewl of contentment, settling his backside more firmly on Pete’s lap as his tail curled off to the side and stilled. Deciding it would probably prove ineffectual to try and have any sort of reasonable discussion while Patrick was this obviously out for the night (again), Pete relented to simply petting his sleeping boyfriend’s back while he half watched the television programme over Patrick’s shoulder.
Eventually, all of Pete’s shows came to an end for the night and he decided it was time for them both to go to bed. Patrick was still comatose on Pete's lap, lightly drooling on his shoulder. Pete gripped Patrick by the ass and hoisted them both up and off of the couch. Once he was standing and sure he wasn't going to drop his sleeping boyfriend, Pete made his way to the bedroom for the night.
**
Pete was woken up by Patrick squirming and whining next to him. A quick glance over at the clock on the night table on his side of the bed let him know that it was just after 9am. Pete turned back over to face Patrick's side of the bed and propped himself up on an elbow to look closer at his boyfriend. He appeared to be locked in the throes of a nightmare; writhing, whining, and absolutely drenched in sweat. Pete started to panic...it had been weeks, months since Trick struggled with his night terrors. He scooted over and quickly took the trembling neko in his arms, kissing his face and neck, and trying to softly bring him out of this state. Patrick's eyes cracked open but the look in his eyes was far away and not quite coherent. He continued to pant and breathe heavily, letting loose desperate whimpers and mewls. Pete could feel the jack hammering of Patrick's heartbeat and started petting the boy’s chest hoping to soothe and steady it's heavy handed pounding. However, once Pete started to rub, Patrick's gaze turned intense and his soft sobs converted into open mouthed panting and growling. Patrick quickly rose into a sitting position and faced Pete with a feral look on his face before launching himself onto the older man and started to earnestly devour his lips/neck/chest. The neko straddled Pete, grinding down harshly as he worked his mouth over any inch of skin he could find. Patrick quickly found the end of Pete's sleep shirt and ducked under the clothing to start biting and licking at his chest and stomach.
Pete's reaction? Mind-numbingly turned on while simultaneously frozen in fear.
His mind may have been confused as hell but his dick was positive this was going to be a good time.
Grasping desperately to the quickly fading voice of reason, Pete lifted his shirt to try and pry Patrick off of him. Those efforts, while notability chivalrous and honorable, was not met with any sort of appreciation. Instead, Pete received a set of bared teeth and deep growls as Patrick pointed a fixed and determined stare back at his boyfriend before diving back under his shirt to continue to attack and molest Pete's body.
In a last ditch effort, Pete slapped his hand on the bedside table to grab his phone. He NEEDED to call Andy before the last of his working brain cells shut down and his boner completely took over the propriety department.
It felt like the ringing went on and on and on but right before he was about to hang up, the recipient of the call finally picked up...at the exact moment that Patrick's hot mouth and sharp little teeth found a very perky nipple to bite down on.
Pete greeted the call with a loud and very enthusiastic moan.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Pete, what the fuck?!” Joe’s lispy voice yelled down the line.
“Joe? Oh man...where's Andy? I really need to...uhhh oh my god yes!...I really need to talk to him.” Pete barely managed to breathe out as Patrick's efforts became even more earnest.
“He's finishing rounds at the hospital. I'm waiting for him here. Dude, what the fuck is going on???”
At this point, Patrick paused the exploration under Pete's shirt to aggressively brush his face against his chest while starting a loud chorus of animalistic yowling.
“It's...it’s...Patrick...he's...ohhhhh!” Pete almost dropped the phone. “He's acting weird. I need to ask...Andy...he…”
“Dude, you're making no sense. What is that loud caterwauling in the background? Sounds like a fucking cat in heat.”
There may have been only one surviving brain cell left in Pete's head, but it exploded when the realization of what was happening dawned on him.
“Oh shit. I think...I think Patrick's in heat or something.” Pete panted out.
Joe’s laughter was so loud it almost made Pete drop the phone again. “Oh my god that is fucking insane! DUDE! Why the fuck are you calling us then? Go take care of your boyfriend. From what I can hear, it sounds like he REALLY needs your help. Hahahaha! Oh man, I can't WAIT to give Andy the update on your situation!”
Pete's could only manage a deep moan in reply.
“Yeah, sounds like that's my cue to hang up. If I don't hear from you after a week I'm sending in backup. Oh, and stay hydrated, bro. And uh, warm up before you start any strenuous activity so you don't overextend your muscles. Hahahaha! BYE!” Joe’s laughter was still ringing through when Pete ended the call, dropping his phone somewhere on the floor off the side of the bed.
Pete reached down and tugged his shirt up again to reveal a very aroused neko working diligently to mark up the skin under the tent of Pete's shirt. Patrick stilled and locked eyes with his mate and started to crawl back up his body to kiss him. Kissingkissingkissing, hands everywhere, hips grinding hysterically, hardhardhard and leaking members suppressed and restricted by too many clothes. Too...many...clothes...suffocating and hindering their ability to become one…
Pete's final logical human brain cell, that had so valiantly fronted for far too long, finally laid itself down in surrender as the man’s animal side decided it was time to finally be permitted to take over.
Reason had patiently waited in the wings for curtain call. It was showtime for the untamable now.
Clothes were quickly discarded.
Gaspsmoansgrowlsscreams
Pete flipped positions so he was astride Patrick and gazed into his soulful eyes as he started to rub the tip of his cock against Patrick's ass. He reached down to caress a warm and welcoming hole to find, much to his shock and surprise, that it was already leaking and slick. He prodded and stroked, collecting moisture on his fingertips, then raised his hand to his face, smelling the sweetsweetsweet aroma of Patrick's arousal. With a smirk, Pete's tongue flicked out to sample the nectar and found it tasted as good as it smelled. Ambrosia.
“Mmm, Tricky. You taste so good. You gonna be a good boy? Gonna let me fuck you? Fill you up? Is that okay with you, my baby?”
A resounding howl escaped the neko’s lips, desperation apparent in every quiver of his taut body.
“Good. I'm so glad to hear that, baby. I've waited so long to make you mine.”
**
It was four days before either Pete or Patrick finally got a full night’s sleep. Pete's long forgotten phone was still on the floor where it first fell. Dead and full of missed calls and messages.