A/N: Sorry.
He thought he would give Gabe the benefit of the doubt since he had been gracious enough to save them from their problem. Though, Patrick was still wary of being alone with him, so he made sure Brendon stuck around a while. Pete's friend had pulled out another joint when they walked into the garden and was balancing it in the corner of his plump lips while he struggled to light it.
"Wow. It's really beautiful here," Gabe commented, fingers trailing some rose petals.
Patrick nodded in agreement and noticed Brendon had finally sparked a flame.
"It's rad that you landed this sweet job," he continued, "Like I wouldn't have ever imagined I'd attend a royal party, but you get to go to them all the time, don't you?"
"Yup."
"Hey, I've gotta call my girlfriend and tell her where I am. I forgot she was going to come over tonight. Can I use your phone real quick?" Brendon spoke.
Gabe handed the device over, and Patrick's throat seized as they watched him walk off.
"You're a bit tense there, Pat. Everything cool?"
"What? Um...yeah. Definitely."
"I can tell that it isn't. I understand. You want nothing to do with me. Let's just hang out tonight as friends, okay? No harm in that."
Patrick took a deep breath and followed the college student back inside where they walked around aimlessly for a few minutes, talking about nothing. Gabe went on about school, and Patrick attempted to be invested in the boring subject matter by nodding his head and smiling at the right times. They eventually found the kitchen unoccupied by any other souls. It was uncomfortable to be somewhere he knew was off-limits during parties, but it was far too late to inform Gabe of that when he had already gone inside and was looking around.
"Hey, man. Someone left some perfectly good champagne here. Want a glass?" he told Patrick, holding up the bottle.
Patrick shrugged in response, which prompted Gabe to grab a corkscrew from a drawer. The cork released a soft hiss after being opened- a prelude to the effervescence whooshing like the stirring of leaves in the breeze or the rustling of taffeta, right before its more sedate arrival in the glasses. The bubbles were shooting stars, whizzing through the liquid- whirling and spiraling upwards.
Wrapping his fingers around the cup, he felt his heat leach into the alcohol. He raised the glass to sip, the delicate fragments of gold bubbles that formed a cordon round the edge of the rim tickling his lips. The whiffs he received from the champagne were mature scents of white flowers with hints of orange peel and wild berries, but the aroma was volatile and constantly evolved in each glass he had. Patrick savored the pleasant sparkling, the instantly seductive and velvety taste that had underlying fruitiness sneaked in between. The bubbles felt like crystalline pearls on his tongue- acidulous flavors that stood out against a rich, smooth background of ripe fruit and exotic wood interlaced with the fragrance of those white flowers.
They reminded him of musicians in a symphony orchestra, rising to a crescendo then diminishing by degrees to close on a note of peace and harmony. Excitement, completeness, tranquility- a symphony in three movements that made him disappear into a blissfully drunken state that could not so easily be broken. Gabe took notice in how times Patrick grabbed the bottle to pour it, obviously much more sober in how he stood and watched the latter. The drinking nullified the bodyguard, stealing away reality in favor of blurred senses and no common sense. Patrick was a fool when he drank, and he could cross his heart that he'd only have more drink, but he was never able to stop once he started.
"You've probably had enough already," Gabe told him.
His hair was tussled by the taller man, but Patrick simply lowered his head and teetered into open arms. The student was quick to catch him and try to stand him up straight, but he stumbled backwards into the open closet, knocking against cleaning supplies with feet stomping on the other's. Gabe looked down at the lovely pools of blue and yellow combined in an illusion of emerald staring up at him, and he had that desire again that rose to the crest of his heart. There was no denying how beautiful Patrick was.
Someone would have had to have been an absolute idiot to not appreciate and admire every aspect of him. Gabe didn't care to respect boundaries with his presence overwhelming him, so he swooped down and captured his mouth with his own. Patrick didn't respond; his lips were stiff underneath Gabe's. The taller man pressed him into the wall to evoke a reaction of some sort, but the other appeared to be as still as a dummy. Patrick's hands were slipped in between them as he tried to force Gabe away, but he was far too drunk to gain control of the situation.
He had thought when the door was opened he was finally saved especially with the person who'd found them having been Pete, but the prince had taken one look at them, receiving all the wrong signals, and walked away without a single word. Patrick had felt his heart break and wanted to explain what was really happening, and he did. It was just that his sentences were drowned out by the music and other voices, and Pete abandoned him with the college student.
"Let go- let go of me," Patrick slurred, tearing himself away briefly before being grabbed again.
"Listen, hey, I've got you. I'll take you up to your room. You need to sleep off the champagne."
The bodyguard's limbs felt like jelly, and his knees wobbled with each step he took. He was dragged up the steps, unbothered by any of the other guests, and Gabe opened a random door to a random room he knew was not his. That factor didn't seem to phase Gabe who immediately began to kiss Patrick again and trap him inside his embrace, though he continued to try to wiggle out of it.
"Relax," he said through clenched teeth.
"Stop. Please, Gabe, I-I'm-just...please don't," Patrick pleaded when he'd been pushed back onto the mattress.
He was seeing double, his vision going in and out in the darkness of the bedroom. Gabe's figure hovered over him a minute as he heard his zipper come down along with his belt. His shadow swayed like it was apart of a fun house mirror illusion, and Patrick felt his stomach twist from staring too long, so he squeezed his eyes shut.
"That's it. Just sleep, gorgeous."
Patrick hated the sound of his voice raspy and smooth in the air- a trap to lure him in as if nothing wrong were happening. He heard the condom wrapper that tore fiercely through his ear drums. His sense of self was ripped to shreds with labored breaths that etched into his memory and the forceful touch gripping his thighs that sent swells of pain throughout his body. Lips clamped down on his neck, light at first, but then he bit down harder.
The teeth turned into a tongue, slicking over his cool skin. Gabe sucked furiously at his neck to remind him of that night for even weeks after the fact. He kissed him when it was over and whispered something Patrick tuned out. His insides were ripped and burning. He was half-naked, shaking and whimpering in the silent aftermath. Gabe's grunts could not be expunged from his mind even after he was left lying there all alone in someone's room he couldn't care less to identify.
***
Cheeks glowed under broken veins; his actions were slow and clumsy as he walked over to the mirror on the wall. His eyes had a strange sunken look and were threaded with scarlet so densely that they appeared pink. He could barely stand, could barely comprehend where he was or what had happened. The door opened, and he cringed from the sudden noise, a lack of balance resulting in him losing his footing and landing on the ground in shambles. Pete had his arm slung around a very elegantly dressed Meagan, the two of them staring down in confusion.
"Patrick, what- what's wrong? Are you alright?"
The blond man swallowed hard and shook his head, holding back tears. He already looked and felt like a fool. They couldn't see him even weaker when his job was to be strong. Pete let go of Meagan and knelt down to help him up.
Patrick could sense the princess's judgmental eyes from the corner of the room attempting to pry him open and assess the situation like a giant ocean he was drowning in, and not even Pete's consoling embrace could save him.
"Gabe. He-I...I couldn't stop him," Patrick whimpered.
"What? What did he do?"
Patrick only had to meet Pete's gaze for the other to get the message.
"God. We-we should- we should get you into your own bed and let you rest," Pete said.
They walked ever so carefully down the hallway with Patrick swaying like he were going to fall at any moment.
Meagan had stayed behind, knowing it to be none of her business at the moment to get involved, even though she was dying to understand why he was so distressed. He never wanted Pete to leave his side, not ever again. He needed the gracious hands laying him on the mattress.
"Do you...do you need me to stay?" he asked Patrick, sitting at the edge and looking at his fragile features.
"Yes. Don't go."
They held each other in the darkness, and though Pete was the one with his arms around Patrick's waist, Patrick was almost certain Pete had a guilty expression upon his face. The bodyguard could never blame him for not doing anything. He had misjudged the situation, thought it to be consensual when in reality it had been far from it. The only man Patrick hated right then was Gabriel Saporta, and he cried that night wishing he had never existed.
***
He was numb. That was usually how it ended when he experienced his own death through the vivid flashbacks that plagued his sleep, and all of it had happened because he hadn't been able to fight it. The body he possessed was broken, shame overwhelming him as the days went by. Fighting was fruitless.
If he wasn't big enough, strong enough, to protect his body in the ways he wished he could then how could he manage to keep this job? Quitting had become far more reasonable with each new dawn where he couldn't even bring himself to leave his room, but not seeing his employer would kill him. Pete still felt as though he was partially at fault no matter how many times Patrick expressed that he wasn't upset with him. The prince kept him company if anything at all, and the truth was that that was exactly what he needed: support to guide him through the jumble inside his head. It was incomprehensible most times he tried to open up about it to Pete- what it had been like to have been raped- because he didn't know if it were even possible to translate his emotions that night into words.
He hadn't wanted to interfere with Megan's and Pete's relationship, but he knew that it was straining each moment Pete was away from the princess and with him. It wasn't immediately obvious when she had started to pry and pick at the things they did. Eventually, he noticed that she was slowly catching on to how unusually close they were for a prince and his employee. Pete reasoned with her that Patrick simply needed the extra attention because of the incident, but she didn't buy it- not after she had seen him fall into the water the day she was in the forest. Patrick was certain she was aware that it had been him. She had explaining to do if she was to confront him about it, so he knew he was safe from any wrath.
He had contemplated whether or not to bring it up to Pete when he had come into his bedroom to read but decided against it. There wasn't any way he would believe his suspicions since he was so star-struck by her.
"You doing good today?" Pete asked.
"Yeah. I think so."
"Great. I-um-I was told by Gerard that I need to go tuxedo shopping soon, but I can't go out if I don't have you with me. It's not that I want to pressure you. The wedding is months away. Only if you're up to the occasion would I want to go and do it."
It still felt odd to think about the fact that Pete was going to get married. Patrick didn't know whether or not he was happy for him with these conflicting feelings inside of his brain mashed together with the hatred he had gained for Gabe.
The guy would get what was coming to him once Patrick was mentally back on his own two feet. For now, Patrick thought he could handle leaving the palace for some shopping.
"Aren't you supposed to wear like a royal uniform?"
"Well, yeah. It's tradition to wear it prior to and during the ceremony, but for the after affairs I'm supposed to have formal wear."
"Oh. Okay. I'm fine with going. I wouldn't want to stop your plans," he paused a moment before continuing, "Are you sure you want to get married?"
Pete looked at him point blank and everything zeroed in on just the two of them.
"I...I have to."
Though he hadn't answered his question, Patrick knew that it was true.