-Oneshots-

+If It Means A Lot To You+(Smut)

No. No. "A job?" He manages, a little weakly, trying to hide his emotions into his coffee. "You haven't even finished school yet, baby." He shakes his head.

Parick stumbles over his words with effusive enthusiasm. "No, no, but that's the thing! I went to school today and-and Mr Weekes pulls me out of class- he says Way Industries is looking for a assistant! Mr Weekes said it could easily lead to something even bigger, and because he thinks I'm the best in the class- he's put me up for it! Oh, pete, it looks amazing!"

Something horrible is pulling at Petes heart. Trying to wrench it out of place. "Sweetheart, no," he says patiently, even as Patrick stares at him hopefully. "You need to get your qualification. That's what I'm putting you through school for."

"But just listen, Mr Wentz!" Patrick pleads, and pete digs his nails into the ceramic. patrick only calls him that when he's desperate for something. When he really wants it. It was a habit the boy had when he first came to pete. Five years old and all alone in the world, and Pete had promised to take him in. Because he'd known patricia they were childhood sweethearts growing up, and then friends into adulthood. That little boy had been absolutely tiny, and had cried himself to sleep most nights and asked, whisper-quiet, "Is this my new home, Mr Wentz?" "Mr Weekes said I could work there, and at the end of the year- still do my exams! I'll still get my qualification, but I'll already have a job!"

"But-no." Pete chokes, "where-where is this Way industries ? It sounds too far, I couldn't have you making that journey-"

"It's just on fourth!" Patrick says brightly, his perfect hair falling into his eyes. "Oh, please! I could walk there everyday, and it's-" he drops his voice excitedly into a whisper, "and it's fifty whole dollars a week."

He can't school his emotions then. He's surprised by the amount. Patrick sees it and has renewed hope.

"I could be earning money, pete! I could- I could buy you those coffee beans you like, the proper ones! And-"

"Well, what for?" He cuts his boy off, "I've never asked you for any money, have I?"

Patrick falters, and Pete tries to gentle his voice. His desperation is coming across as anger, and he's not angry, never angry with Patrick.

"Have I, baby?" He prompts.

The gorgeous little thing shakes his head slowly, no words coming out.

"Way industries- Assistant. I just don't know, sweetheart. It's a cruel world out there, I want you to stay in school. I want you to be a CEO at the biggest company in New York, not just a Assistant for a little old place. That's what I'm paying for, isn't it? All those tutors I hired for you, all the time I spent working to keep you well-fed and happy, to have all the books you've ever wanted- don't I do that for you?"

His boy wilts hesitantly. "Y-yes."

"I don't need you going out there, walking to work- Patrick, baby, you're so young. You're only seventeen, you're so naive, you have no idea what the world's like. You think you could just walk to work everyday? Don't you know what the men would do when they saw your sweet little face? They'd eat you alive. They take advantage of pretty things like you, Patrick, and you're too trusting- you won't know any better when they lure you over- bend you over and-" his breaths are coming in short, furious pants. petes worked himself up now, he can picture it, he can see it, the way those workers down on seventh would grope at Patrick's lovely skin- force their way inside- Patricks helpless little mewls, his gorgeous cries-

He seethes with anger, even as he twitches in his pants.

Patrick lets out a distressed sound. There are tears in those huge eyes, and pete immediately moves around the table, reaching for him. "Don't cry," he beseeches, because he never ever wants Patrick to be sad. "Don't cry, sweetheart, I'm just telling you how it is." He cradles patricks face in his hands. "I want to keep you safe. You're not ready for a job, yet-"