Patricksitting (Call It A Love Song)

When Pete shows up Sunday, mid-afternoon, for ten days of house sitting and "Keeping a general eye on things, Patrick, we know you're too old for a babysitter, but we worry," he looks exactly the same, except for a stupid haircut that makes him look like someone cut it when he was too drunk to look in a mirror, or something.

"Hey, kid," he says, first thing, lugging a huge, shiny brown duffle behind him. It's slippery, nylon or something, and it keeps rubbing against Pete's jeans, making some sort of whispery zipper sound that sets Patrick's teeth on edge. "I'm here for Patricksitting. I assume you're the Patrick?"

Link to the original story: http://adellyna.livejournal.com/355836.html