A/N: I had been thinking about this fic ever since I watched the movie. I fell in love with Patrick (even though girls are not exactly his type :P) and wanted to write something about he and Brad.
I plan on adding more chapters but they will just be random one-shots. I also plan on giving this couple kind of a happy ending.
I couldn't think of a title so if you have any idea then by all means let me know.
Review, people. It will only take a few seconds and seeing reviews always make me happy!
And to all the Patrick x Brad fans...ENJOY!
Disclaimer: I do not own the perks of being a wallflower.
In their night outings with Charlie, Patrick would always make an effort to seem carefree and light-hearted, and he was doing a great job of hiding his true feelings even from himself, or at least for the biggest part of the night.
Patrick said that now that he and Brad were no longer together he was free to be with whoever he wanted and that it wouldn't be necassary for him to hide anymore.
That was what he kept telling himself, over and over again as if only by repeating it could it become ingrained into him.
However, at some point after that, every single night, the energy and the cheerfulness he would show would drain and leave him vulnerable.
Then, all the things Patrick tried to keep at bay during the day would rush back into him and it seemed as if they were a weight that would crush him.
Please. Stop. You're killing him.
Patrick wanted to get these words out of his head, but most importantly, he wanted the image that accompanied them and had been searred into his mind disappear.
Now Patrick knew that he shouldn't have fled like a coward and leave Brad deal with the situation.
They had been in Brad's basement and he had promised that they would have as much time as they wanted alone.
Patrick had felt as if he was about to reach some twisted and forbidden sort of paradise with Brad's touch sending waves of fire and pleasure in his whole body, when it was all shattered by the click the doorknob made as it turned and a man's furious, unforgiving voice ''What do you think you're doing in my own house? You faggot!''
He had never seen Brad's father before, but Patrick knew pretty well that this was not the right time to meet him, especially when he had found his son in bed with another male.
However, what Patrick had not been expecting was what Brad's father did next and at that moment he could understand why Brad had been claiming he had been drunk or stoned and he couldn't remember a thing from the parties every time he and Patrick had shared some intimate moments.
Brad's father crossed with big strides the distance between the door and the bed at the far wall of the basement where his son was lying with Patrick, and when he grabbed Brad by the hand and dragged him off the bed so abruptly that Brad let out a surprised yelp of pain, Patrick knew why it had been so hard for Brad to accept his homosexuality.
It took Brad months and months of late night parties, drunken kisses and denial of everything that had happened between them every Monday morning at school before he could finally come in terms with his sexuality and tell Patrick that he wanted to be together with him.
Patrick could understand why Brad had been so afraid, because now he could see in the harsh, unyielding expression of his father that he would never accept that his son was gay.
His father hit Brad on the face, and it was not just a slap but a punch that left a stream of blood running from Brad's.
He tried to protect his face from his father's angry fit of rage, but the other man just kept hitting him, bruising him, making him bleed and at the same time yelling all the words concerning homosexuals that would cause ado if uttered in a civilised conversation.
Patrick watched in shock as Brad was being beaten.
''Pleas, stop. You're killing him!'' Patrick only detachedly heard himself saying these words, trying to help Brad.
His face was a bloody, bruised mess when he managed to raise his head from the spot on the floor where he had fallen and look at Patrick, his gaze was begging him to leave.
Patrick felt like he would be sick right there.
Brad's father was ignoring him and had turned his full attention on Brad, kicking and cursing him as if Patrick wasn't there, watching the whole scene without being able to do anything to help Brad.
He turned around and started to run, wishing that Brad would forgive him one day for being a coward and not defending him.
Patrick focused on his steps as he tried to get out of the house whose walls seemed as if they were closing in on him and asphyxiating him.
Climb up the stairs. Get out of the basement. Keep walking. Find the front door.
The last words he heard coming from the mouth of Brad's father kept echoing in his ears even after he left the house and started to run down the street without seeing where he was going ''Even this fucking qeer know how to run away when things get bad.''
Now, as Patrick wept like a baby, clinging onto Charlie in what was nothing more than a moment of solace and comfort between two friends, he thought that the fact remained : Patrick hadn't defended Brad, and so Brad had no duty to stand up against his mates when they beat Patrick in the school cafeteria.
Deep down, Patrick knew that he deserved it.
Oh, everything was so complicated when the meaning of love should be simple. Because he still loved Brad even though Brad didn't want him anymore.
Every night he and Charlie went out, Patrick supressed the pain he was feeling and tried to be optimistic and upbeat, but by the end of the night, he couldn't help wondering if he had lost Brad forever.