The Little Things, a bandom AU.

[claire_debonair]

I was going to wait for this fic to be betaed properly, but I feel like crap and ended up reading this to cheer myself up. How sad is that, reading my own fics to cheer up? Anyway, after that I wanted to share it straight away. Hope you enjoy this random little thing. A much smuttier sequel is on the way, thanks to an awesome title idea from licklicksalute1which just cries out for porn. Also thanks to her for this title. I suck at titles, and she was good enough to help me out.

 

Title: The Little Things

Pairings: Eventual Pete/Patrick, Ryan/Brendon and Jon/Spencer. Trust me on those.

Rating: PG-13, PG-15 at most. (OMG I know, no smut)

A/N: AU fic.

A/N2: The most glaring errors were fixed by Toby, who I seriously need to start rewarding properly for doing that time after time for my fics.

Summary: As I’m sure some of you will already know, sometimes a shop evolves into much more than a shop. It becomes a place where people go when they feel sad, or happy, or when they need sanctuary from the trials of day-to-day life.

Patrick is a chocolatier. No ifs, buts or kind-ofs. He’s a chocolatier in the way that Michelangelo was an artist, the way that Louis Armstrong was a jazz musician and the way that John Sheppard is a pilot. It’s something he was born to do, and so it’s what he did. Ever since he walked into a specialist chocolate shop with his mom at aged five, Patrick has been fascinated by the variety of chocolates, and the wondrous things you can do with the right tools and a bit of creativity.

 

A Bachelor’s Degree in Baking and Pastry Arts at the Culinary Institute of America, as well as an Associate Degree in the same after that, furnished Patrick with the knowledge and the expertise he needed to return to Chicago and start his own chocolate shop, with a little help from his parents. Within a year it was a booming business, drawing people from all over the city who craved the delicious array of chocolates displayed in the wide windows.

 

Now, as I’m sure some of you will already know, sometimes a shop evolves into much more than a shop. It becomes a place where people go when they feel sad, or happy, or when they need sanctuary from the trials of day-to-day life. Patrick knows that this sort of thing happens, so he spent three months looking for the perfect place to set up in. When he found it, finally, it took only a week to get it ready. It felt right, the kind of place you can really make into a special shop.

 

The shop’s name, ‘Little Things’, is displayed across the front door in beautiful curlicued script, which, along with the gorgeous renderings of various chocolates dotted around the letters, was painted courtesy of Patrick’s friend Gerard. He managed to get the artist to travel from New Jersey to Chicago for a week, promising him free chocolate for life if he would come up and redesign the shop’s front.

 

He chose the name because everyone knows it’s the little things in life that’re important. That, and because the first things he sells are little chocolates that you can mix and match into small, medium or large boxes, for a more personal touch. He has to explain the reasoning behind the name at first, then word gets round.

 

With the additional promise of free chocolate for Gerard’s boyfriend Frank, Gerard did the inside of the shop too, creating a wonderfully light and airy space that quickly gets filled with the wonderful smell of tempered chocolate. Murals of different parts of the chocolate making process, from a lush jungle on one wall to a beautiful picture of Patrick, head bent over an almost finished chocolate cake on another, flow gracefully over the…quirky walls of the old shop.

 

Patrick wasn’t going to turn down an offer like that, after all. Even if it did mean putting up with Frank, the guy who never runs out of energy, for another two weeks.

 

Patrick knows a lot of people in the music scene in Chicago, through being in many bands of differing abilities up until he left for New York, so he uses them as unofficial advertising, at least for the first month or so. Then he finds that he doesn’t need it; he’s getting almost too many orders, and the shop often gets so busy that he starts to seriously consider getting a part-time assistant.

 

When it nears the end of fall, with Thanksgiving looming, Patrick bites the bullet and puts an advertisement in the local paper, expecting the usual mix of loonies, people just looking for free chocolate, and maybe one decent candidate. What he gets (after the loonies and freebie-seekers) is Ryan Ross, a quiet and serious Literature student at Chicago University. He floats in with a collection of floral scarves and a tight waistcoat, and listens to Patrick explaining what his job would entail with a focused look.

 

Unsurprisingly, he gets the job, and for the foreseeable future he will be helping Patrick by pouring chocolate into the basic moulds when ready, packaging up custom orders and serving in the front of the shop. However, when Patrick catches him decorating some failed moulds with thin icing pens and the remnants of a box of crystallised petals, Ryan quickly finds himself reassigned to the artistic side of things.

 

With the most time consuming part of the job partially in the hands of another, Patrick can turn his attention to the newest side of his business: cakes. Between customers and making up orders, he experiments with flavouring, subjecting Ryan to so many taste tests that the student eventually puts his hands on his hips and refuses to try any more combinations.

 

Which is okay, because Patrick has collected someone else. This someone wanders in at around half-past four one afternoon, and never really leaves. Well, he does leave, because he has a job, but at some point every day he’s in the shop. His name is Pete, and Patrick can’t seem to get rid of him. Short of calling his friend Bob who works as a bouncer, there is no way Patrick could physically throw Pete out, because although they’re the same height (short) Pete plays soccer in his spare time and is surprisingly strong.

 

After two weeks of bitching about having to stand up so he can watch Patrick work and keep up a constant flow of words that Patrick does actually sometimes listen to, Pete turns up one day with a tall stool which has to be stolen from a bar somewhere. He shuffles it about as Patrick pretends to be engrossed in icing a cake, but is actually watching from underneath his eyelashes, although when Pete finally sighs dramatically and sets the stool down on Patrick’s side of the counter, Patrick puts down his icing bag and applauds.

 

Pete glances up from where he’s trying to choose a chocolate to steal. “What?” His grin always makes Patrick want to smile back, no matter how busy his day’s been or how tired he feels.

 

“I was wondering how long it’d take you to figure out the best place to be is there.” ‘There’ is about half a metre away from where Patrick works behind the counter, close enough for Pete to steal any leftovers but far enough that he doesn’t get in Patrick's way. “It only took you, what, twenty minutes? Give or take two weeks.”

 

“Fuck you.” Pete says it with no malice, which is one of the things Patrick likes about him. Unless severely provoked, Pete isn’t generally an asshole. He’s incredibly annoying at times, but Patrick can deal with that. He usually shoves chocolate at him, or sends him on an errand to get something from the storeroom. It’s either that or making Ryan deal with him, which is a very last resort.

 

Ryan deals with Pete by talking to him about obscure literature, whether Pete’s read the book or not. It’s very effective at making Pete shut up and calm down. Patrick knows Ryan does this as punishment for the amount of innuendos he had to cope with when Pete first started to lurk in the shop, although Patrick also knows that Pete hasn’t worked this out.

 

He is completely oblivious about some things.

 

Right now, though, Ryan’s in a good mood. He’s creating a new selection of chocolates, the first time Patrick has allowed him free range with the decorations. Pete settles on chocolate-covered fudge and pops it into his mouth. Of course, that’s when he decides he needs to speak. “What’s the cake for anyway?” He says thickly, licking chocolate off his fingers.

 

Patrick lays down another swirl of icing, looking at it critically before answering. “Wedding.” One more swirl, and then he holds out one hand. Pete snags a box of candied fruit slices from next to his stool and passes them to Patrick, stealing one as he does so. He’s handy to have around sometimes, even if he does sit there stuffing his face.

 

“Why would people have a wedding this close to Christmas?”

 

“I have no idea, but it’s fucking annoying.” The wedding party, some insanely tall Latino guy and his shorter but hotter fiancée, have ordered not only a three-layer cake, but also individual boxes of chocolates for each guest. Those are done and delivered, at least; Ryan really earnt his paycheck by doing them in record time. The shop’s antique door bell goes just as he’s turning the cake to finish the ring of cherry halves, but Patrick doesn’t look up. “If you’re gonna sit there and lurk, earn your keep. Help them out, will you.”

 

The alacrity with which Pete jumps off his stool tells Patrick who’s come in, even before Pete’s happy cry of “Brendon! Dude, hey, here, you gotta try these.” This too is part and parcel of Pete hanging around. He’s a born salesman, constantly getting people to try different chocolates to the ones they came in to buy. He works at a local record label as the head of A&R, a job at which Patrick knows he’s very successful.

 

Brendon is another stray Patrick has picked up. He’s also a student at Chicago University, taking music. When Brendon first came into the shop he was almost painfully shy; the Mormon faith his parents had drilled into him meant he was unused to Pete’s innuendo-riddled conversations, and he couldn’t order anything from Patrick for a good month without blushing and stammering.

 

Pete still claims Brendon had a crush on Patrick, which Patrick finds ridiculous because he’s met Brendon’s girlfriend. Only once, and they broke up soon after, but he still uses it against Pete when he starts to go on about Brendon and his imaginary crush. Then, just before Christmas, they work out that Brendon likes Ryan. As in, likes him. It’d be cute if it wasn’t for Ryan handling the whole thing so badly Pete winces, and he’s got exes who’d like to kill him.

 

It’s a quiet day when it happens, so Patrick’s sitting on the second stool Pete stole from somewhere and chatting about pretty much anything with Pete, sharing a plate of his new ginger cookies. Brendon’s unwound so much that he’s agreed to take part in the end-of-term concert, two tickets to which he’s already solemnly presented to Pete and Patrick. Pete snuck into a rehearsal (how, Patrick does not know, and would rather not ever find out), and reported that he was shaking his ass so well Pete thinks he may have a secret life as a stripper.

 

So, he wanders in, a grin firmly on his face, and asks where Ryan is. This is not unprecedented; after meeting in the shop and realising they do, in fact, both go to the same university, they’ve become sort-of friends. Not close, but enough that they can chat while Ryan makes up whatever order of chocolates Brendon’s decided on that day. Today, however, Brendon doesn’t ask for chocolates. Instead, he holds out a ticket to Ryan, one of the few remaining ones.

 

“Hey, um, would you like to come to the concert?” He says it in a rush, and Patrick finds himself holding his breath. Strong fingers closing around his hand tell him Pete’s feeling the same way, and they sit waiting. Ryan blinks, looking at the ticket held out to him.

 

“I’m – I’m sorry, I can’t. I’m going home for Christmas that day.” Brendon’s smile falters then stills, although dimmer than before.

 

“Oh, okay. Never mind then. I’ll, um, see if anyone else wants it.” He gives Pete and Patrick a small smile before vanishing out of the door, Ryan doing the same into the kitchen where he’s working on some festive designs. Brendon looks so sad and dejected that Pete leans against Patrick and stares at their clasped hands, a sigh escaping his lips.

 

“I will never do that to you, okay?” At any and all other times Pete’s assertions that Patrick is the one for him are funny and not taken seriously, by Patrick at least. Now, though, he sounds so quiet and serious that Patrick curls his fingers around Pete’s hand in return. They both know that Ryan flies out the day after Brendon’s concert, and from Brendon’s reaction it’s likely he knows this as well.

 

“Sure, Pete.” They stand for a moment, before Pete’s cell and Patrick’s oven timer make them step apart and get back to work. Ryan leaves soon after, head bent under his pageboy cap and clutching his schoolbag like it’s his only protection against the anger he’s obviously expecting from Patrick. He knows Patrick likes Brendon, has sort of taken him under his wing.

 

The small tables set up so people can drink their hot chocolates frequently see Brendon’s papers spread out, pages and pages of music theory and compositions fluttering gently whenever a customer enters. Patrick sighs as Ryan stops and looks at him apprehensively. “Ry - ”

 

“I’m straight,” blurts Ryan before Patrick can say anything else, “or I think I am.”

 

Oh. “Ohh. Look, Ryan, it was just a concert.” Patrick says it gently, trying not to judge him. Ryan looks at him, unhappiness written in every line of his body, then nods jerkily.

 

“Sure. Yeah, well, I mean….” He sighs and swaps his bag to his other shoulder. “Look, um, I finished the chocolates, and they’re almost dry. I won’t be here- I told you that. Um. Merry Christmas.” Patrick nods and returns the greeting, watching Ryan walk quickly down the street outside in the direction of his dorm. Only three days to the end of the semester, and he’s busier than ever. 

Part Two

Comments

[shirasade]

Patrick the chocolatier! Oh, my heart, I am in love... *goes back to reading*

[ladyrogueevie.livejournal.com]

*beams*

[hurtstoloveyou.livejournal.com]

oh oi! choco fic! lovessss!

[ladyrogueevie.livejournal.com]

*beams* thank you.

[hurtstoloveyou.livejournal.com]

:DDD

[xxx-nica-xxx.livejournal.com]

RAWR is this ok for u claire? I has commented again, as per ur instructions. Aren't I a good girl (erm hehehe, no)Anyways, u sent me this fic a while back, but I read it again cus i was bored and now I is not bored, so thank gabe for claire fics! I is goin 2 ur bday party 2moro as a chav. heeee, I still wana wear a baseball cap, but u wonts let me, so I supose I will have to abide by ur wishes, as it is ur [arty after all. I hope has peanuts.
Xxx Nica xxX

[xxx-nica-xxx.livejournal.com]

Hee i can't spell. That was suposed to say party and that i hope u has peanuts. Woops, but cba to spell check.
Xxx Nica xxX