You're a Hot Mess (Peterick)

Chapter Seventeen - "Fish-Boy"

"An Aquarium, huh?" I muse, trying hard not to sound... well, slightly disappointed. Patrick notices my lack of enthusiasm and half-smiles, nudging me in the arm. "Yes, an aquarium. It'll be fun, don't worry." He assures me, grabbing my hand and interlacing our fingers.

Yeah, I'm okay with the aquarium now. Funny, that.

Patrick hands a girl in a ticket booth a couple of dollars which she exchanges for two tickets and hands them to us. "Thank you." Patrick says absent-mindedly while she smiles sweetly at our joined hands.

"Okay, fish-boy: What's the plan?" I mock, watching him study one of the maps. He scoffs and points to a spot on the map which is labelled 'Shark Tanks'

"Oh, shark-boy, excuse me."

Patrick stops reading the map to look at me with a smirk, "Sharks are still fish, Pete."

I take a step away from him, detaching our hands in the process, and point a finger at him in surprise, "Only a fish-boy would know that!" I accuse.

He puts his hands on his hips, shaking his head with a smile. "You're such an idiot." He decides, stepping towards me, maintaining his smile.

The smile that captivated me from day one.

His hands find their way to my hips, dipping into my back pockets to pull me closer. I slide my arms around his waist and then we're so... close.

"That's not what my midterm report says." I say in a surprisingly low voice.

I sound pretty seductive if I do say so myself. Or, as seductive as you can be saying something like that.

"I know, I'm proud of you." He says affectionately, kissing my nose lightly. "How proud?" I tilt my head challengingly and lean into him. Patrick shrugs, grin slowly fading into a smirk, "Lemme show you."

And he does, because suddenly he's pulling me down the hall, ignoring all the people staring at us with raised eyebrows, and we reach a dark room. Inside I can hear a narration from a video playing. Part of the room's lit up by the projector showing the video on a wall in front of kids and their parents.

I have no idea why he brought us here and I'm about to ask when he pulls me to the right of the doorway behind a statue of a giant fish.

I think I know where he's going with this. And I think I'm okay with it.

"This is very teenager-y of us." I tell him in a whisper. Patrick's eyes flicker to my lips and back to my eyes, he licks his bottom lip. "The hiding or the fact we're about to make out?"

"Oh, are we?" I ask, feigning shock. "I'm not to sure about that, actually." I tease, walking slowly backwards. He grabs my arm and pulls me into him and in one swift motion I press him against the wall, making him blink in surprise.

He regains his focus and smiles crookedly, "That was pretty smooth."

"Thanks." I say, not leaving any time for him to say anything else before I connect my lips to his.

His lips are warm and dry and inviting and one hand drops to his waist while the other's fingers curl around his neck, protectively.

He's mine. You can't have him.

Our lips run over each other, our breaths mixing to create a whole new blend. The kiss is wet and hot now, every second becoming hungrier and hungrier. His fingers dig into my shoulders like I'm his only chance of survival.

He licks my bottom lip and slides his tongue inside my mouth. My hand on his neck rushes to grip his hair and bring him closer. I place my legs on either side of his, pushing our hips together in the process. Patrick's hands glide to the small of my back, curling into fists when a moan escapes from his lips, tangible and flawless.