The World's Not Waiting (For Joe Trohman to Stop Being a Pussy and Start Going For What He Wants) [10/?]Summary:
AU Timeline - Teenage angst and Crayola Rainbows. Or, Joe saw him first.Author: rosiedoesBetas: xdearlin
R at absolute max.Pairing:
c.5, 000 this chapter.Author's notes:
This fic is written in a slightly AU timeline, where Andy joins the band straight away. One or two formerly key players may also be conspicuous by their absence...
Believe it or not, this is really only half a chapter. Yes, 5,000 words of 'half a chapter'. It's going a little slowly, right now, but you can expect a time jump in a couple of chapters' time, I promise!Disclaimer:
Get me a Dolorean and I'll make it real; until then, sadly not true. Previous Chapters:Part One: Paperbacks and SexualityPart Two: My Heart is On My SleevePart Three: Your Secret's OutPart Four: No Less DefeatedPart Five: Place Your Hand BetweenPart Six: My Badge, My WitnessPart Seven: Knocking Boots in the BackPart Eight: The Battle's Only Halfway DonePart Nine: Kiss Safe Thoughts GoodbyeThe World's Not Waiting (For Joe Trohman to Stop Being a Pussy and Start Going For What He Wants)Part Ten: Snitches and Talkers
"Now talking's just a waste of breath."
Joe didn't know what to say, at first. He just froze. After all this time, with Patrick terrified of what his mother would think, he suddenly wanted her to know? Joe kind of
got it – it was like they'd just signed some kind of declaration – but why risk ruining it by telling one of the few people who had any chance of screwing it up? Then again, she was his mom.
"Are you sure you like, want
to tell her?"
Patrick shrugged a little, pulling back so his hands settled on Joe's waist and scrunching up his nose. "I don't think I can just tell her straight off, y'know? She's going to need some prepping for the information..."
"I dunno, man... I just can't go up there and say, 'Hey, mom? Yeah, so by the way me and Joe have just been doing it in your basement. Is that okay?' I think that might pretty much kill her."
"Is she gonna be that pissed
, dude?" Oh man, I am like, never going to see you again. There's gonna be a civil war – we'll have to elope and get married and find a priest who'll give us like, poison and shit and then we'll end up dead. But hey, at least like, our families'll all be BFFs or whatever.
"Not... I don't think pissed
, exactly... but yeah. I'm gonna have to be careful how I say it." Patrick looked up and him and snickered at the expression on Joe's face. "It's not gonna be the end of the world, dude."
Joe nodded, and shrugged away a little. "Could you, um, get me a shirt? The guys'll be here like, really soon..."
"Oh! Shit... yeah, sure." Patrick pulled away and started for the door, before turning back and asking, "I don't look all... dishevelled or anything, right?"
"Um..." Joe reached out and combed his hair down with his fingers. "She's probably gonna like, wonder why you're all sweaty." And the guys are gonna wonder why I'm shirtless and kind of like walking like I peed myself. I would give like, anything for a shower, right now. Next time, we are so doing it at my house.
"I'll run. She won't notice." Patrick grinned and grabbed him quickly for a kiss, and then made for the stairs.
Sitting back down on the couch, Joe picked up the mistreated remote and almost switched the mini stereo off of repeat, but found himself grinning at the words and vague recollections of the video and decided to leave it as it was. Of all songs to be stuck with the memory of, it could honestly have been much worse. 'I Would Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)' was on the same CD, somewhere.Would have been pretty ironic, though, man.
He closed his eyes and grinned, doing a private victory dance in his head. It wasn't quite a Fonz moment, but after a slightly false start they'd done it
. They'd actually, honest to God done it
. It was kind of a relief that Patrick had just taken charge, because he'd been pretty convinced he was going to ruin it or something. He still felt kind of gross, though.
Patrick hopped down the last three steps and through the open door, brandishing a t-shirt and collapsed into the seat beside him. "Didn't notice. And I got you the Green Day one, because at least that's only slightly humiliating."
"Oh man, not the Green Day
one!" Joe joked, tossing it aside playfully.
"It could have been the Purple Rain one."
"This t-shirt? Officially the coolest shirt you own."
Laughing, Patrick nuzzled his shoulder and tucked an arm around him. They were quiet for a few minutes – slightly sleepy and content to just sit there with Joe toying with Patrick's hair and Patrick's fingers stroking softly at Joe's hip – until he shifted to prop his chin on Joe's shoulder, and softly said, close to his ear, "'Love you."
Joe grinned self-consciously and pressed a kiss to his lips, off-centre and perhaps a little too abrupt, and mumbled, "Me too."
"And it was... y'know: good, right?"
"Well, apparently you thought so," Joe snorted, whipping him on the shoulder with the t-shirt beside him.
"Huh? What? Oh! No, I totally did. Totally."
"I'm like... glad we did it."
Patrick grinned against Joe's neck, almost shifting onto his lap. "Me too. I kind of thought we were never gonna get around to it..."
"Next time, I'll like... do the hard work or whatever," Joe offered shrugging nonchalantly and tucking his fingers down the back of Patrick's jeans.
Patrick just laughed into his shoulder.
They were still sitting there when Pete dragged his amp down the stairs, thudding it on the wall at least four times before he got there. It was lucky, really, because it gave Joe a chance to put on the t-shirt which had been half-forgotten in the middle of lazy snuggling, while Patrick hurriedly stuffed everything back into the amp and shoved it against the wall.
Pete stopped in the doorway and looked at them, standing in the middle of the room, pretending they weren't up to anything. He cocked an eyebrow. "Don't stop on my account."
Joe could feel himself turning crimson, but Patrick just smirked back at Pete and flipped him off.
Andy trotted down the stairs a moment later, having locked up the van, and they left him to set up with Pete while they went upstairs to get drinks.
"Do you like, think Pete knows
, dude?" Joe whispered, leaning into Patrick's shoulder slightly as Patrick handed him cans of soda from the fridge.
"Pete's thought he knew since day one, man."
"No, but I mean – "
"It doesn't really matter anymore, though, does it? If he thinks he knows, he's right," Patrick whispered back, flashing him a grin.
Joe shook his head and smiled, brushing his fingers against the small of Patrick's back briefly, nervous that his mother would walk back in to check on her baking.
"Hey," Patrick hissed at the door to the basement steps, gesturing for him to be as quiet as possible as they crept down the stairs. "We'll like, jump out at the bottom and make a bunch of noise and watch those pussies pee their pants."
Even as they tiptoed down the stairs, they could hear the others' voices below. They were laughing about something, which was good, because it meant they weren't expecting an ambush. But as they reached the third or fourth step from the bottom, Patrick held up one hand to stop him, and gestured for Joe to listen.
"...been busy, to me."
"Maybe they have," Andy's voice replied, and Joe could almost hear the shrug.
"What else do you think they've been using one of these for, kind of? Party balloons?"
"I think you should just shut the fuck up and put the wrapper in the trash and not try to humiliate them, okay?"
"Fuck you, man – what kind of asshole do you think I am?"
"The same asshole you've always been. Except now you want what Joe's got."
"Fuck off, Hurley. I just don't like, want to see their little thing to blow up and ruin the band."
"Pete. We have played two shows
"So? It's totally one thing to be kind of dating someone you're in a band with and call it off and still be okay with it, but if things start getting serious and they end up hating each other, the whole thing is screwed."
"What, you're allowed to crush on the kid, but Joe can't have him if you can't?"
"That is not what I'm trying to say!"
"Sure, Pete. Sure."
"Believe whatever you want, dude – I'm just saying I never figured they'd get serious. They're kids. They – "
"They're both way more mature than you. And actually, they're both way more mature than that piece of jailbait you're fucking, so you kind of don't have a right to judge."
"They're happy. Leave them alone."
"What would they even know at that age?"
"It doesn't matter. It's not your problem. If you try to make it your problem I'm gonna have to kick your ass, Pete."
"You could fucking try," Pete laughed, followed by the sound of a few playful slaps on fabric. "But they're kids. They're not gonna stay together and when they break up, this band is fucked, basically. I'll put twenty on it."
On the steps, Patrick looked up at Joe somewhere between angry and anxious, and shook his head slightly. "Ignore him," he whispered. "We're good. We're fine. He's being a fucking jealous dick."
Nodding, Joe leaned down and kissed him on the cheek. He didn't feel much like pranking them anymore. Instead, he jerked his head back toward the top of the stairs, and they crept back up in order to run down noisily and hide the fact they'd heard everything. Joe took the opportunity to shake violently at the cans in his hands. Patrick made a point of holding his hand as they walked in, though, and the look on Pete's face became slightly fixed.
"How long does it take to get a couple of cans, or whatever?" he snorted, catching the can Joe threw at him, and tapping the top to settle the drink inside. "Did you guys stop for another quickie or something on the way?"
"Shut up, Pete," Patrick muttered putting his can down and plugging in his guitar.
Pete raised an eyebrow and held up the condom wrapper they already knew he'd found. "What would
your mom, say?"
"'Litter goes in the trash, Patrick'."
"Yeah, sure. His
mom might, kind of," Pete snickered, tossing it in Joe's direction.
"Just fucking drop it, okay?"
But Pete wouldn't. The entire practise was spent dicking around and making jokes; asking deeply embarrassing questions and ordering them to stop 'eye fucking'. In the end, Patrick kicked him hard in the balls as he lifted up his bass, and the practice came to an abrupt end.
Instead, they wandered up to the kitchen to misappropriate some of the fresh baking Patrick's mom had left out, before Patrick ended up braining Pete with his own instrument.
"So, seriously," Pete asked around a mouthful of pumpkin square, leaning leisurely against the kitchen island, "how long?"
"You have like, actually done it
"Because you two have been 'dating' like... four million years, now, so you pretty much have to be fucking, kind of. Or are you still just holding hands in the playground like third graders?"
"Why is this any of your business?!"
"I'll take that as a no, kind of. But don't hold out on him too long, dude – he has a really short attention-span, or whatever."
Joe punched him in the arm indignantly. "Fuck you, dude! That's like, so totally not true!"
"'Not true'!" Pete laughed, slinging an arm around his shoulders. "I've known you forever, basically. I know you too well for this shit. And anyway, you two are like teenagers and everything – you should have been doing it within like, half an hour of your first date or something."
Patrick quirked an eyebrow at him, "Who says we weren't?"
"The look on Joe's face, right now."
"Yeah? Well, for your information, yes: me and Joe are fucking. We're doing it. Happy, now? Or do you want proof?"
Andy, leaning against the work surface by the window, had turned very pale and mumbled, "Um – Patrick?" Patrick glanced at him, then at the door, and Joe followed his gaze. His stomach dropped; Patrick's mother was standing there, no expression whatsoever on her face.
"Mom – "
"Patrick, please send your friends home, now."
Andy and Pete didn't wait for any further cue. They made for the door to the basement without looking at him. Knowing that he was blushing furiously, Joe looked at him for a moment, silently asking him if he wanted him to stay. Patrick just shook his head.
Even by the time they returned, dragging amplifiers up the steps, Andy carrying their guitars, neither Patrick nor his mother had moved an inch. She watched them go in silence. Patrick just lifted his hand awkwardly to wave them off.
"Did she not know?" Pete asked, dumping his amp on the sidewalk by the van.
Joe kind of wanted to kill him. "No! No, she didn't fucking know!"
"Yeah, well I guess nobody tells their mom that shit, anyway..."
"She didn't even know he's into dudes, you dick!" Joe hissed, his hands curling into fists so tight his knuckles hurt.
Pete's face dropped. "Shit."
Andy shook his head with an aggravated huff and flung open the van door. "You can't help but open your fucking mouth, can you?"
"What?! He said it!"
Joe sat outside in his car for an hour, afterward, his cell in his hands, waiting for it to ring. He didn't want to risk calling and getting Patrick into trouble, but he didn't want to abandon him either. Finally, hoping that she'd simply taken it well, he drove home.
When he got there his mom was in the kitchen, cooking dinner.
"Hi, sweetheart – how was practice?" she smiled, dicing an unnecessarily large pile of potatoes.
"Patrick's mom knows," Joe blurted helplessly.
"Patrick's mom. She knows about us. That we're like... that we're dating and stuff."
His mom put down her knife and turned to look at him. "And what happened?"
"She sent us home."
"Well, did she seem upset? It can be quite a shock to find out that your child isn't entirely the person you thought they were, honey."
"I don't know... kind of. It like, really sucks
, though because he was like... he wanted her to find out right and stuff. He was totally scared she was gonna be mad or something... She's pretty strict and stuff and he has a curfew and things, even though he's eighteen in a few months. I mean, like, she's always been pretty nice and whatever, but he's totally freaked out that she'll be upset..."
She kissed him on the forehead and patted his shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be reasonable, honey. There's no need for you to worry – "
The house phone rang and a moment later Sam's voice yelled, "JOOOOOOOOOE! IT'S YOUR BOYFRIEND
"Patrick?" he said, the second he got to the hall and wrestled the phone from his brother's grasp. "Are you okay?"
"Um. Kind of not really."
Joe's heart skipped a beat. "Is she pissed?"
"Yeah. Kind of."
"Shit. Are you gonna like, be okay, or...?"
"Well, she's not telling me to get out or anything, but... I'd kind of like to not be here right now."
"I'll come get you, dude," Joe told him without hesitating, just as his mom peered out of the kitchen door into the hall, gesturing to the floor and the phone and mouthing what appeared to be, 'he can stay here'. "My mom... I think. Hang on." He put the phone to his shoulder. "What?"
"If he needs a place to stay, you bring him here."
"I won't have him on the streets."
"He's not being kicked out, mom..."
"Well. If he needs someplace to stay, he's welcome to come here. Just make sure he leaves our number." She disappeared back into the kitchen without another word.
Putting the receiver back to his ear, Joe asked, "You hear that, dude?"
"How come you get amazing parents?"
"I dunno. But like, you want me to come get you?"
"If... yeah, man, if that's okay. I just need some space or something and I could go to my dad's but that'd suck. He lives the other side of town."
"Okay. I'm coming now, dude."
"Are you sure?"
"I can't believe you even asked that."
He didn't have the nerve to go up to the door and knock when he got to Patrick's, instead, he honked a couple of times and got out to stand leaning against the hood, on the sidewalk. Patrick was at the door almost immediately and walked out to him with his head high but a grim, miserable look on his face.
Patrick didn't say anything, just leaned up to kiss him pointedly. Joe glanced up at the house as Patrick pulled away and reached for the door. The living room curtain twitched.
"Can we go?"
"What even happened?"
Patrick didn't answer until Joe was already sitting down and strapping himself in. "She still thinks I'm a baby. And I'm really fucking not."
"What does that mean?"
"That she thinks it's a phase. That I could be dating girls instead of wasting my time on you. That there's no such thing as being into girls and
guys. The kind of fucking stuff you'd be surprised to hear from a twelve year old."
"Is she like, mad at me
, or whatever? I mean, like – she doesn't think I turned you or anything?"
There was a long, unnatural silence. And then finally, "I had to tell her everything..."
"How, y'know: how I had to practically beg you to date me. How you've never, ever tried to get me to do stuff."
"Oh." Was I supposed to? I didn't think that was cool
"And she kind of wanted to know if we were really... uh. Yeah, she kind of wanted to know if we really were, y'know. And I had to say 'yes' and –"
"You had to
?" If he hadn't been obliged to concentrate on driving, Joe would have thumped his head on the steering wheel.
"Don't look like that, man, your mom caught me getting jerked off by her precious baby – don't get all weird because I told
"It's just kind of embarrassing, dude..."
"Yeah, it kind of is, but if we're big enough to do this, we're big enough to talk about it."
Joe wasn't quite sure he agreed. "I just don't want your mom to like, start hating me or something and say we can't see each other and stuff..."
"Joe. Listen. If she starts all that kind of crap I swear I'll go live with my dad or something. But she won't. Because she doesn't have a problem with y'know: being gay, she just doesn't believe that I am."
"Well... you're kind of not."
"Yeah? You try saying that next time you have your dick in my mouth, man."
"Sorry." Joe didn't try to say anything else, afraid of making it worse. Patrick clearly wasn't in the mood; they drove the rest of the way in silence.
When they got home, Joe's mom was still cooking. She looked up as they walked in and put down her oven mitt. "Hello, sweetheart," she cooed, gathering Patrick up in a hug and petting his hair. "Are you okay?"
"Um..." Patrick mumbled something inaudible into her sweater and squinted at Joe for help.
"I think you're suffocating him, mom."
His mother flagrantly ignored him and hugged Patrick tighter before pulling away and squishing his face in her hands. "I want you to know that you can stay here as long as you want to – "
"- but I'm going to need to call your mom and make sure she's happy for you to be here – "
"- and Joe is going to have to give you a ride to classes tomorrow, so you're both going to need to be up a little early."
"Mom – c'mon! Give the dude a break – one day out of school – "
"Did you bring your books?"
"They're mostly in my locker..."
"Good, then you're all set."
"I can't believe you're sending us to school, mom..."
"Well, what did
you expect? If you boys want to elope, that's fine, but when you elope to our house, you still get to go to school. And that's non-negotiable."
Joe tugged at Patrick's arm to take him upstairs with a huff of annoyance.
"Honey, have you eaten already? Because we're just about to sit down for dinner..."
"Um... not yet."
"Well, that's fine – Joe, go and tell your brother to set the table in the dining room, for me."
"We're eating in the dining room? Why can't we just, like, eat here like always?"
"Well, partly because everyone is home, tonight, but mostly because Mommy Said So."
"But – can't you just...? You know
Patrick's been here before, right?"
"Yes, sweetheart, both your father and I are very aware that Patrick has been here before. Now, do you want to talk about last time he stayed over, or are you going to go and tell Sammy to set the table?"
Joe was out of there like a whippet.
Going to bed was a little awkward, that night. They spent the evening watching Animal House
in the den, Sam already sent to his room so he couldn't hog the couch, until Joe's mom came in wearing her dressing gown and told them to go to bed.
"Sweetheart," she said, catching Joe's arm as he followed Patrick out of the room, "your father and I talked, and we think it might be better if you stayed in the guest room, for now."
"What?! Mom – that's not fair!"
"Shh – you'll wake your brother – "
"Why can't we just sleep in my room together? We always
sleep in – "
"Joseph Mark Trohman you zip it for a second and listen or you'll be sleeping in the yard, never mind anywhere else."
Patrick stood behind her, trying to stifle the first smile he'd even come close to giving all evening.
"I can't believe you're whining like a little girl in front of Patrick!" she teased, clipping him gently on the back of the head. "I was going
to say, sleep in the guest room because there's more room and you both have school in the morning. You won't get a decent night's sleep crushed into that tiny single in your own room."
"So, am I still Cruella De Ville?"
"No, you're awesome."
"Right answer. Go to bed."
There was something unsettling about sleeping in a room other than Joe's or Patrick's own, and actually having so much space to sprawl out in. They were used to having to sleep curled up around each other and standing beside the queen in the guestroom, it seemed more like a small country than a bed.
"Well. I guess like, we don't have to spread out over the whole thing..." Joe suggested, eyeing the slightly chintzy covers and rose-pink lamps on either side. He couldn't think of anything but the fact that his grandparents had slept in that bed on numerous occasions, and now he was about to share it with his boyfriend
who was staying over, more or less, because his mother had found out he took it in the ass. Gross.
Patrick gave him a side-long glance, his mouth contorted into a dubious expression. "I guess."
"If it's too weird, we can go back to my room."
"I dunno... I feel like it'd be rude or something not to, y'know: try. Your mom and dad are trying to be accepting and stuff, so... It's more than my mom did."
Sighing, Joe turned and tugged him into a hug, kissing him on the temple. "She'll come around, dude," he tried gently, and Patrick twisted and wrapped his arms around Joe tightly. For the first time all evening, he really gave in to how miserable he was and buried his face into Joe's shoulder, snuffling slightly. "Hey..."
"I'm not crying."
"You can if you want."
"I'm okay, I'm just totally
pissed, y'know? It's not fucking fair that you get amazing parents, and Pete gets a really cool mom, and Andy's mom sounds like she's pretty amazing and my mom is like... she's great, y'know? Like – yeah, she babies me a lot, but I'm the youngest and she's always done that – but y'know, there's this one fucking thing
that really means something to me and she has to go and be this stupid about it."
"If Pete had never – "
"It's not Pete's fault. If she was gonna be a dick about it she was always
gonna be a dick about it."
"I really wanted her to like you..."
"Probably not until you grow a uterus or something..."
Joe sighed heavily, squishing him tight and whispered, "If I could, dude..."
"Y'know what?" Patrick said, pulling away and running his hand through his hair. "That's the whole fucking thing that pisses me off so much! She doesn't care that what I have is this totally amazing
dude who I really like, and who'd basically do anything for me – she just sees me making this huge supposed mistake and stuff and I'm not making
a mistake! I don't care whether you're a guy or a girl or anything. It doesn't matter
and I don't see why she has to be so fucking controlling about it. I'm the one dating you, not her!"
"Dude," Joe whispered, carefully pressing his fingers over Patrick's mouth. "Shh. It's late. I like, I totally understand why you're pissed and everything, but... maybe she'll cool off or whatever?"
"I'm not going home until she gets used to the fucking idea. I'll go to dad's if I have to –"
"Mom said –"
"Yeah, I know, and that's seriously cool and everything, but I don't know how long this is gonna take and I don't want to outstay my welcome or anything."
"You can't outstay anything. Mom loves you, dude, I think she'd try to like, keep you
whether we were together or not."
Sighing, despondently, Patrick shrugged and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "I really wanted this to work out."
"Maybe it will, or something. Maybe it's just like... the shock. Because dude, my mom's totally right: she's just figured out her ickle baby Patty Cake is kind of like... doing stuff that pisses off everyone's parents. With a dude." The latter part of his speech came out muffled through the fabric of his shirt as he pulled it over his head.
"Today just sucked," Patrick complained, watching him get undressed with very little interest. "It should have been awesome, and it sucked
"I know, dude... I'm sorry it like, all got fucked up..."
"No, dude, if it wasn't for you and your mom and dad – "
Joe covered Patrick's mouth with his palm and 'shh'-ed him. "I told you: Mom loves you
"Thanks," Patrick mumbled back, standing up a little to shake off his jeans and leave them in a pile on the floor.
"She does! She was right out there the second she knew I was talking to you and like, giving me these weird hand signals and trying to tell me to tell you you could stay, and stuff."
"Kind of wish I didn't have to." Patrick sighed a little and wriggled over to the other side of the bed, holding up the blankets so Joe could get in.
"Dude, I don't want to sound like I'm taking her side or anything," he said, picking Patrick's jeans up and folding them quickly, dropping them onto the chair with his own, "but I guess if it was my kid I'd be kind of weirded out, and stuff." Finally, he climbed in and switched off the bedside lamp, settling down and trying to tug Patrick to him.
He didn't need much coercing, but he didn't shut up, either. "Your mom wasn't weirded out," he argued, shifting around until he was half wrapped around Joe's side.
"In case you haven't noticed, my whole family's kind of quirky. And she so was
There was a soft snort.
"To be fair, though, dude... my mom didn't just have to go on hearsay."
Patrick actually giggled a little.
Taking a slow, deep breath and trying to think of anything he could say to help, Joe stroked Patrick's hair and mumbled, "But like, you've still like... you've still got me, if that's any consolation. If you like, want me to, I could like... kind of talk to her or something. I mean, I doubt she'd take me that seriously, or anything, but like... if she knows I really, really love you and everything... I don't want her to think I don't, anyway. I'm not like, using her baby or anything."
"I told her already..."
"Maybe you could like, introduce me properly or something, y'know? 'Cause I've been hanging out at your house since April, or whatever, but she totally thinks of me, as like, this annoying kid who dropped a whole carton of chocolate milk on her floor and stuff... So maybe she needs to kind of like, stop thinking of me like that and start thinking of me like your boyfriend or something?" It doesn't even feel weird saying that, anymore.
Patrick shrugged against him. "I dunno... I wasn't expecting to have to, y'know: deal with this. Not already."
"Well... it's kind of too late, now
, dude. May as well make the best of it, kind of thing, you know?"
"Stop being sensible. It's creepy."
Joe grinned and fumbled around to try to find his face so he could kiss him. "Just don't want you all sad and stuff, dude..."
"School's gonna be really weird tomorrow."
"Wanna skip it? I mean, like, we can go somewhere or something."
"You mom would totally kill you."
"She doesn't have to know."
"No way, dude. She has Mom Powers. She knows everything. I don't want you to get in trouble trying to make me feel better."
"Actually, I just like... really wanted a day out of school. But if you're gonna be all nerdy about it..." Joe teased, shrugging. He was pretty sure Patrick as smiling as he pulled away and turned his back to him, pulling Joe's arm around himself as he did so.
"You can make me feel better in the morning."
He blinked at the back of Patrick's head for a moment before he realised what he meant. "Then I guess I better get some sleep or something," he joked, snuggling a little closer and pinching his stomach playfully.
"Don't flatter yourself."
"Dude... if I was flattering myself I'd do better than that."