Notes: Written for Strangecobwebs. Inspired by this.
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"So," Pete said. He had one of those grins on, the kind that meant Patrick should probably already be running in the other direction.
"So?" he repeated carefully.
Pete grinned wider. "You're her favorite."
"Whose favorite?" Patrick asked.
"You know, it's too bad," Pete said, peering closer at his computer screen. "The first one's a pretty good picture of you, and the second one's not bad of her. Apparently you both can't look normal at once. It doesn't bode well for your children."
"What are you�" Patrick grabbed the corner of the computer and tipped it towards himself. "Oh."
Pete leaned his head back on his arms and smiled sweetly at him. "Have you set a date yet?"
"Oh, we got hitched while we were in Vegas, did I forget to tell you?"
"Patrick Martin Stump, you heartbreaker. What will the internets say?" He turned the computer back and poised his fingers over the keys.
"You wouldn't," Patrick said, but he took the computer away, just to make sure.
"Hey!" Pete crawled onto Patrick's lap, reaching for the computer. "Mine!"
"No, actually, this is Andy's. Who would probably have a fit if he saw what we were doing to it." Patrick waved it over his head for emphasis. "If you want yours, go back to your own bus." He managed to squirm around Pete enough to set the computer on the floor a safe distance away.
"You," Pete said, curling up along Patrick's side when he settled back onto the couch, "are no fun."
Patrick shrugged. "Hey, I never asked to be your favorite."
Pete's head settled into the crook of his shoulder, hair tickling against Patrick's ear. He smiled and pressed a kiss to Patrick's neck. "You are, though," he whispered, and Patrick grinned.
"I know," he said.
"If you want, we can take bad photobooth pictures of ourselves and post them on the internet so everyone knows."
"I'm pretty sure the internet knows already," Patrick told him, wrapping his arm tighter around Pete's shoulders.
"Hey Patrick?" Pete asked a few minutes later, and Patrick mumbled a reply against his hair. "Where's the first one?"
"What?"
"Those pictures. They come in threes. What happened to the first one?" Patrick didn't answer. Pete pushed himself up to lean on Patrick's chest and peer at him closely. "Were you�"
Patrick kissed him to shut him up.
"Mmm," Pete said when he pulled back. "Was that supposed to be a distraction, or a demonstration?"
Patrick kissed him again, and Pete decided that he really didn't care.
In the next city, Pete found a photo booth, and pulled Patrick into it to kiss him while the camera flashed in their faces. The pictures never made it onto the internet. He scrawled my favorite person across the back, tucked them into the brim of Patrick's hat, and left them there for him to find.
Patrick found them. But what he did with them, he's not telling.