Good Night Sleep Pete

Patrick stares at Pete, his eyes lingering longingly on the tiny body of his friend. Patrick is fascinated by Pete sleeping, there was nothing more beautiful than the way he curled up looking like a little angel rather than the demon he usually was.

Pete's eyes are closed and his breathing is soft. He looks relaxed, peaceful. His pale skin, which peeked out from the collar of his T-shirt and sleeves was almost luminary in the deep-night blue glow. His tattoos, the green spiralling ink, seemed to be the only solid bit of him left from the way his skin looked so transparent and soft.

There's shadows under under his eyes from his lashes. His cheekbones are highlighted by the moonlight and his nose leaves a small patch of black just below his nostrils. Pools of black and white linger on him, making him look like a painting or a really old photograph.

Patrick reaches out to brush a few strands of dark hair away from Pete's face. His fingers push the thick hair out of Pete's eyes and carefully linger on his cheek, caressing them gingerly. God, how he'd missed his Pete.

He missed when they'd snuggle on the bus, their legs wrapped around each other and faces poking out from beneath the blankets. He also missed how Pete would lean on him when they were on stage and occasionally press of his lips on Patrick's neck, leaving a warm spot. He'd missed the way Pete stared at him like we was the only thing worth looking at, or when he told Patrick how much he needed him.

And now Patrick had him again. This time he wouldn't leave. He wouldn't deny his feelings. He would always be there for his Pete.

He was glad he'd run into him at a coffee shop. It was probably his best decision yet that they had sat together in the back and had a nice chat. Which quickly lead to texting each other, meeting up occasionally at the park, late-night phone calls and a first date.

Well, none of them had actually said it was a date but as far as dates went, dinner at a fancy restaurant and then going to Pete's place for the night kind of fit as one. And they were sleeping in the same bed. They didn't have sex, God no, they hadn't even kissed yet. Well apart for the time on stage and the time in the bathroom after that. But that had been ages ago, when they were a band still.

Now things were different. Fall Out Boy was still on it's two year lasting break, Pete had dated a girl named Megan for a year before breaking up with her abruptly and Patrick had almost gotten married. They were in no position to be dating each other, besides Patrick wasn't sure if Pete even liked him back that way.

They were close and on the borderline of romantic, but it was probably platonic on Pete's side. Pete had always said things about how special Patrick was to him and even wrote a song for him, but it always Patrick who was in love with Pete. Everyone knew it. The band knew it, the fans knew it, his family knew it. Everyone but Pete knew it.

Pete stirs in his sleep. His brows crease and he wiggles a bit. He looks troubled; his hands are clenched and his lips are open, forming a painful 'o'.

Pete's face breaks a little, showing a look of pain and despair. He heaves a great sigh, the one of a tired and sad man, then lets out a small, childish sob, which quickly turns into him crying in his sleep.

Patrick hastily begins shaking Pete, feeling desperately worried and wanting to shake him out of his nightmare. Pete had been suffering of those since he was rather little, always claiming that in them he was lost and alone and so terribly sad.

It takes him a bit of time, but Patrick manages to rouse Pete out of his sleep, taking his trembling form into his arms whispering: "it's okay, it's okay" while Pete sobs into his shoulder.

Patrick holds him gently in his arms, one hand running his fingers softly through Pete's hair while the other massages his back. They stay like that; tiny and warm, engulfed in their own paradise until Pete's breathing has stilled and once again he has fallen asleep.

It is then that Patrick leans in, pressing his lips softly against Pete's and whispers: "Goodnight," before sealing it with a kiss.