Chapter Text
Beep! Beep! Beep!
With a groan, Pete rolled over and swatted at his alarm. It shut off satisfyingly mid-ring and he nuzzled back into the warmth of Patrick and bed and pillows and ohmygodDisneyland!
“Patrick! Babe, wake up, it’s Disneyland day!”
“Mmphsshhhgsh.” The noises that were coming out of Patrick’s mouth were decidedly not words, but Pete was used to it, after two years. Mornings were apparently not a dragon’s friend. Or at least, they weren’t Patrick Martin Stump’s friend, that’s for damn sure. But today had to be different—it was the day. Disneyland was the fuckin’ best, it was seriously the Happiest Place on Earth. He was beyond thrilled that they (okay, there had been no they, it had been a sole Pete Wentz The Annoying One enterprise) had built an extra bit of time into their LA business trip for a day at the park.
“Cute impersonation of a log babe, but let’s save it till we’re actually on the log ride, okay?” Pete started bouncing on the bed in excitement, hoping the jostling would pull Patrick from his coma. “It’s like…seven fifteen already! The park opens at eight, we need to—“ He was cut off by a very fast, very strong set of arms and legs whipping out with impressive speed from under the mountain of blankets. They wrapped around him with crushing force and pulled him down and before he could say “Uncle” he was wound deep into a spiderweb of grumpy, sleepy, pissy Patrick.
“I should set you on fire.” Patrick rumbled as he attacked Pete’s collarbone, biting and kissing none too kindly. His breath was hot, teeth making sharp nips of perfect pain along the line of the bone and Pete loved it. “I should char your bones black.” He claimed Pete’s mouth in a searing kiss, all heat and teeth and tongue as he pulled him underneath his body, rolling his impressive hard on against Pete’s thigh. Oh…okay, then, Pete thought happily. I can stand to be a couple minutes late as long as it’s for a good reason. One of Patrick’s hands found Pete’s nipple and tweaked it sharply, nails biting into the skin. Yelping out, Pete threw his head back and let Patrick attack his neck. “I should eat you.” Patrick rolled his hips against Pete’s again, one hand buried in his hair and the other squeezing his rib cage hard, the delicious pressure possessive and hungry. It gave Pete the perfect idea.
Pushing with his leg, he rolled them over so Patrick was on his back. His eyes were blue and imperious, and Pete loved it. He loved pissy, haughty, grumpy morning Patrick.
Never breaking eye contact, he slithered downwards. “But if you did that, who would eat you?”
~//~
At nine-thirty they tumbled through the park’s gates, and Pete was jumping up and down like a five year old. He pulled Patrick over to the giant Mickey Mouse head made of flowers and took a selfie of them (Patrick was scowling—typical) and then dragged him through the archway and towards the shops.
“Babe, we need to get mouse ears!!!!” He pulled his protesting boyfriend into the “Mad Hatter” shop, and googled at the hundreds of different mouse ears lining the walls. Pete flitted from rack to rack, pulling one off to try it on before finding one he liked even more. Following in brooding silence, Patrick rolled his eyes as Pete tried on a pink one with “Princess” written in looping font and a tiara.
“That looks like a winner.” He mumbled, and Pete shook his head as he looked around, searching for the right one for his favorite person.
“THIS is the one for you!” He crowed, pulling one from the top of the rack and swooping Patrick’s hat off, depositing the ears on faster than the complaint coming out of his mouth. Patrick looked in the mirror, and the look on his face was priceless—Pete couldn’t help the loud, braying laugh that tumbled from him. Turning around, Patrick folded his arms and glared daggers, a whiff of smoke rising from his flared nostrils, and Pete pulled his phone out to grab the world’s quickest picture.
“Seriously?” Patrick asked as he took off the ears, folded them and replaced them in their spot. Pete looked down at the picture and laughed all over again. his angelic looking boyfriend—who happened to be a dragon—pouting under a “Toothless” set of Mickey ears, large green eyes staring out like a more adorable version of the expression on Patrick’s face. He quickly made it his wallpaper. Looking up, he saw Patrick had wandered off, so he resumed trying on ears and making faces for snapchat, until a tap on his shoulder interrupted him.
“I found yours.” Patrick was grinning, and pulled a set of ears from behind his back. Pete’s eyes shot open.
“Ohmygoshbabe! They’re amazing!” A pair of nightmare before Christmas ears were cradled in Patrick’s hands—the hat itself was Jack Skellington’s distinctive face, while the ears were cobwebbed. Perching the ears on his head, he made what he hoped was a terrifying face. “How do I look?” Patrick snapped a picture on his phone and gave him a small, fond smile.
“Perfect.”
Grinning madly, Pete gestured. “We gotta find you some now babe!”
He shook his head. “I don’t think I really want ears.” Pete could feel his shoulders sagging at the pronouncement, and Patrick shook his head. “Fine. Pick me out whatever you want, I don’t care.”
“Anything?” Pete’s eyes glowed, and he saw the brief look of horror flash across Patrick’s face as he realized what he had said, but then he sighed, resigned.
“I’m going to regret this…”
That’s how Patrick Stumph of the Friednot Dragon Clan ended up walking out of “The Mad Hatter” in a giant green Goofy hat, complete with ears. Pete pulled him close so they could take a hat-selfie in front of the store, and giggled in glee. Something caught his eye in the window so he scurried back.
“Babe! Look! They have Maleficent horns! We could get you those instead, I’m sure they’d exchange them!”
Patrick pulled him away with a shake of his head. “You’re hysterical.” He gave his grinning boyfriend a measured look. “You know I’m actually distantly related to her, right?”
~//~
There were many things Pete had expected to do at their day at Disneyland—ride the rides, eat a huge turkey leg and make thinly-veiled innuendos, try to beat Joe and Andy’s score on the Astro Blaster’s ride…but this was not one of them.
“Fuck, just get me a Sprite, will you?” Patrick was sitting on a bench just outside of Space Mountain with his head between his knees, his voice coming out muffled.
“I can’t believe you can’t get hungover, but you can get motion sick.” Patrick glared up at him, the effect being less terrifying than normal considering he was pale and sweating. “Fine, fine, off I go.” Pete went and bought a bottle of Sprite from one of the little carts, and bought himself a popsicle while he was at it. Bringing it back to his boyfriend, he unscrewed the cap and held it down to him. “Here you go.”
He didn’t say anything, just reached up a shaking hand to take the drink. He sat up enough to take a few sips, each one longer than the last as he leaned back and closed his eyes.
“Better? You look a little less green around the gills now.”
Patrick didn’t even open his eyes, just took another swig and breathed through his nose.
“Dragons don’t have gills, idiot. And for the record, it’s not that I’m motion sick, I just don’t like being spun around in the dark when I have no idea where we’re going.”
Now it was Pete’s turn to roll his eyes. “Such a control freak.”
~//~
They were standing next to the statue of Walt Disney and Mickey holding hands, waiting for the fireworks to start. People were pressed all around them, jostling for the best spot to see the explosions of color. Pete was talking animatedly to a guy standing next to them about the new Star Tours ride that was supposed to be opening soon, and Patrick was playing on his phone. The guy was tall with large ear gauges and a well-trimmed but massive beard. He leaned close as he laughed over Pete’s Jar-Jar impersonation, laying a hand on Pete’s chest for a moment as a flirtatious twinkle flared in his grey eyes.
“Oh, hey, no, I’m actually—“ Pete started to say something to get the guy to stop, but was interrupted by a warm arm pushing the guy’s hand from his chest as they wrapped around him. Patrick was standing close, practically oozing around Pete and pulling him to the other side, away from the bearded guy.
“He’s mineee.” The words came out with a sound like a low hiss at the end, and Pete felt a shiver go up his spine. The guy backed away with hands held up, moving to stand somewhere out of sight, and Pete suddenly had his face pulled down and the most achingly gorgeous lips ever pressing against his own. Patrick still had a possessive hold on him, arms wrapped around his waist and legs pushing him against the low wrought-iron railing.
The announcer came over the artfully-hidden speakers, announcing the fireworks were about to start as Patrick pulled away.
“Jealous, much?” He couldn’t help but ask, and Patrick merely smirked at him. “You know I wasn’t trying to—“
“Shhh.” Patrick cut him off with a quick peck. “I know. You’re just too damn gorgeous for your own good.” He stepped back and stood up on the low curb, pulling Pete back to stand against him and fitting his chin on his shoulder, humming contentedly. The lights dimmed as Patrick wrapped his arms around Pete’s waist as he whispered in his ear, and Pete could swear he heard the shit-eating grin in his voice. “I have the prettiest hoard in the world.”
Then the music started and the sky exploded in a riot of color and sound and choreography. Tinkerbell flew across the sky and the castle was wreathed in flames as the show went on. Standing there with his love, Pete could feel the magic all around them.