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Patrick was angrily stomping around the house as Joe watched from the couch with a slightly bemused expression. He really did act like a child. He knew it was Patrick because if it was Pete, he’d be in Joe’s lap, making him lick his arm or some shit.
The thing was, Pete had just gotten another tattoo on his arm. It was a Nightmare Before Christmas one and Joe thought it actually looked pretty good. However, he wouldn’t dare voice that now.
“I just- We have enough already! Right? Right Joe?!” Patrick asked, turning to him with his arms limp at his side, eyes wide and pleading. Joe hid his smile and nodded sincerely, staying silent for the most part.
“It really was rude of him to do it without asking you first.” He says, not sounding super interested, trying to eye the The Phantom Menace playing behind the Angry Patrick™.
Patrick sassily rolled his eyes and turned off the tv with the remote next to Joe. “This is serious! Can I get it removed?” He asks, sounding exasperated.
“I don’t really think Pete would like that, Trickster. Besides, it’s too expensive.” He said as he lay back and closed his eyes. His record store job could only supply so much. Pete and Patrick usually stayed home, trying to sell lyrics and music. Both were successful. If they were good at singing, he was sure they would have started a band by now. Patrick tries to sing, but it comes out too harsh and grinding in their voice. Joe can only hear it when he’s showering.
Patrick dropped his gaze and scuffed his beat up converse on the carpet. “Fucking asshole… It hurt too!”
Joe raised an eyebrow at the cursing. “Want me to kiss it better?” He asked, smiling up at Patrick.
Patrick blushed. “N-No all the plastic shit will get in the way.” He said after a moment, twisting his arm a little to look at it. Joe just shrugged.
Patrick spoke up again after a moment. “Just /be sure/ he doesn’t get another one. Okay?!” The smaller man begs. Joe laughs lightly and promises he won’t let him. But, knowing Pete, he’d do anything to do what he wanted. Especially if someone told him not to do something.
Joe opened his arms and Patrick grumbled, curling up in his lap, his ear pressed against his heartbeat, loose hoodie draping his small form. Unlike Pete, he liked all the extra layers.
The curly haired man switched the TV back on, and held Patrick against him tightly. After a few moments, Pete grinned up at him in his too wide smile.
“He was fucking pissed, huh?” Pete says, already vibrating with energy in Joe’s lap. Joe just pats his head. “You just like annoying him don’t you?”
Pete nodded, still grinning cheekily. Joe smiled back, murmuring, “It’s cute when he gets all huffy and pissed off. I love it.” Pete hummed in agreement.
Joe paused, playing with Pete’s hair. “You’re also cute when you’re waiting for me on our bed… Two fingers already up your ass…” He trailed off, letting the sentence hang in the air.
Pete froze and then jumped up before Joe could even peek a look at his facial expression. Joe rolled his eyes, deciding to wait until the movie was over to go to him. He was trying to teach him to be patient. Joe lay back in his chair with a hand in his pants, thinking about how /fucking awesome/ his life was.