FicWad

Patrick stirred from his slumber. A crick in his neck ached painfully and he grimaced at what he had been placing his head upon. A lap top. He rubbed the side of his cheek to find an imprinted Apple Mac symbol, embedded in his skin. He groaned at the discomfort he was feeling and sat up from his stance, lying down upon the sofa. Patrick looked around to gain his bearing, find out where he slept. An empty seating area was all that faced him. Clothes strewn everywhere, and in the unsettled silence the thoughts that sleep had fallen prey to came rushing back. He felt his pulse race, and his heartbeat. Trying to block out any thought that Beata captivated.

His thoughts of her perfection were rudely interrupted. As he found a new position, leaning upon jackets, legs folded, laptop upon him, he heard the fast flurry sounds coming from the bunks. The groans, the shaking, everything pointed to sex. Patrick grimaced at the thought of hearing one of his friends intimate moments. What was worse was that a name shouted in amplifying pleasure struck a chord in his heart. Pete. He closed his eyes and found no joy. His heart swallowed intensifying sorrow as the last thing he wanted, the last thing he need, was to hear Pete and Beata. For a fleeting second he wondered how Beata made it, without a word to Patrick. It past as the force of the sex got louder, he frowned his face out of disgust and placed his headphones in. Turning on music full blast, drowning the echoes with a simplistic chord.



The glare of the screen made him squint in a slight ounce of pain. He tapped, subconsciously, on the metallic of the computer while he tried to ignore emotions, crashing into one another inside him. He shifted his legs to can more stability as the sounds rattled him more than unusual. An evident arousal played on his sadness and he snapped his eyes closed to block any fantasies of Beata, entwining with him instead of Pete. Beata soft caressing skin, or so he imagined, pressed against his bear chest. Heaving oxygen together, panting. Gripping onto the side of her hips as they rocked together in ecstasy. Patrick felt sweat on his palms as he held the laptop with anguish. Sexual frustration rising in the pit of him as he dismissed seconds thoughts as to relive himself. Not this way, and not in this context.



The leather seating of the sofas began to vibrate softly. He lifted of his headphones to hear the usual jingle of a phone call and began to fumble around the jackets and coats to find and silence the phone. He stuck his hands into the pocket of Pete's and pulled out a viciously moving phone that danced about in his palm while he held it. He was about to switch it of when he read the name that flashed at him, curiously, he answered it;



"Beata?" he whispered, hushing his tone as to not wake others.

"Pete? Is that you?"

"No it's me Patrick"



"Oh right," there was a studied pause, "why are you answering Pete's phone?"



"Oh he's erm" Patrick looked at the door "asleep."

"Asleep?" Beata spoke as if suspicious, "Pete never sleeps."

Patrick chuckled at her slight joke, "Go figure, must be his lucky day."

"Oh well, if he's not available, tell him I love him and miss him"

"I will"

"Miss you too"

Patrick held his breath for a mere second, "I miss you too"

"Bye

"Bye"



Patrick hung up the phone, glancing at shock to the source of the sexual noises, which were slowly down in the aftermath of a climax. An instant gush of rage rattled through out his system, Pete had been cheating on Beata. Patrick's mouth fell slightly open, and his stomach churned sick. The door of the bed room began to open.



~@~

Grace began to dress while Pete lay, a blanket wrapped around his torso, covering his nudity. She smiled at him as she slipped her jeans and buttoned them up. He looked at her with pleading eyes to stay, but trapped in guilt and pleasure, he knew she had to leave. Before anyone found her, found them, found out. He groaned and reached down to find a pair of boxer shorts. Sliding them up his bear leg and followed with his own trousers. He stood up and stared at her blankly for a moment.

Grace had placed her brown leather jacket over her fake tanned arms. Winking softly at Pete who still covered her with his eyes. She could see the glint of remorse in them and she placed her lips on his. Smothering the emotion with unadulterated desire.



"Again sometime?" she questioned, somewhat predicting the answer that fell from Pete's lips.

"I'll call you" he whispered, wrapping his arms around her and stroking the small skin of spin that showed as she reached up to enclose her arms around his neck. She played with a tuft of hair at the base of his neck. They pressed their lips together one last time. "I'll walk you out, I need to keep this a secret."

"I know, I know but I can find my own way out" she broke apart from him, "I'm surprised we didn't make ourselves heard anyway."

He grinned half cheekily and half shocked, "Heavy sleepers."

Grace laughed at him and opened the door to find the sleeping body previously staring at her with open accusing eyes. She fluttered one of her eye lids down, winking callously at him. Walking out with a strut in her step. Accomplishing gossip and more bad intentions in one. The cool breeze swathed her as she enjoyed its silence. It never whispered who she truly was.

Pete stumbled out, expecting to see Grace walk away but found Patrick. His eyes full of his innocence. The two best friends, intently gazed at each other. One full of fault, the other full of woe.