Chapter Text
"What you need," Pete said, leaning over Patrick's shoulder and smiling big for the camera, "is a little bit of eyeliner. And maybe some lip gloss."
"Go away," Patrick hissed under his breath, slightly grateful that he could get away without a smile, more grateful that no one noticed when he elbowed Pete in the side. "You know I'm not going to."
"Forget the eyeliner, just the lip gloss," Pete suggested the next time they were next to each other— which was four photos later, after Patrick had hidden halfway behind Andy and slipped around to Joe's other side, doing a good job of avoiding Pete. "Just a touch."
"Why are you so—"
"Hold it," the photographer yelped. Patrick waited until the flash to continue his question.
"—determined to get me into makeup? Go tell Andy to wear some."
"Andy," Pete said, lips pressing right up to Patrick's ear awkwardly for a second, "doesn't have your lips. And your lips should be shown off, Trick."
"Will you two cut it out?" Joe, perched on the floor between their legs, reached up to smack indiscriminately at both their midsections. "Let's just get this done, okay?"
Weeks later, Patrick's fiery blush graced the cover of Rolling Stone, and Pete Wentz looked suspiciously self-satisfied at his side. The only picture of Patrick in lip gloss, though, was on Pete's Sidekick: Patrick hadn't let him put it on directly, but between the red of his well-kissed lips and the gloss that had rubbed off from Pete's mouth, it was more than enough to make Pete happy.