Dick Pics (Peterick) **REWRITTEN**

30

wrote this while listening to dashboard confessional lmao

CH. 30 -- PETE

A knock on my door breaks me away from my Xbox for the first time since my pee break a few hours ago. What can really be expected of me on my first off Sunday since baseball season started? The knocks continue as I pause the game. "Yeah, yeah, coming. Just a sec."

I put my controller down and head to the door, opening it to find Patrick, his eyes red and cheeks puffy. Once he realises I've opened the door, he's on me in a second, arms wrapped around my torso and face pressed into my neck as he sobs.

"Baby, what's wrong?" I ask, one of my hands curling around the back of his neck. My other hand pushes at his shoulder to get him to look at me, but he won't budge. I sigh and kick the door shut as I walk us to the couch.

I push him onto it, but he won't let me go, so I end up on top of him, his face now pressed to my shirt. He soaks the spot his face rests on in seconds with his tears, but I don't mind.

"Fuck." And that's the first word he's said since I've seen him. I finally push him back to get a look at his face. I move the few strands of the brown-turning-blonde-again hair out of his face.

"Talk to me. What's wrong?" I press, and he just drops his head and mumbles something. I grab his chin and force him to look at me. "What?"

"My dad has fucking cancer. Stage four, terminal lung cancer." Patrick repeats, and then he starts sobbing again. I freeze, my eyes widening.

"Fuck, baby, I'm so sorry," is all I can come up with. I've known Patrick's dad for most of my life, and to think of him never coming to another one of our games is kind of fucking sad. I can't imagine how Patrick feels.

"Why him? He's never smoked a day in his life, he goes to church every Sunday he can, he volunteers at the animal shelter after work every day." Patrick manages around his sobs, gripping the back of my shirt in his fists. "Should've been me. I'm the gay one that smokes when he gets stressed, and I haven't stepped foot in a goddamn church since I was fourteen."

"Stop that right fucking now." I say, taking Patrick's face into my hands. "You're going to get through this, okay? I'm not going to lie and say that it's going to be easy, but this is not the end of your life."

"He lied to me for almost a year, Pete. He didn't want to tell me because he knew I wouldn't want to come here. He knew I'd want to spend his last year at home with him." Patrick says, and my eyes widen, my mouth dropping open.

"Almost a year. You mean..?" I trail off, and Patrick just nods as he begins to cry again.

"Doc gave him two, maybe three more weeks." Patrick answers, and I just hug him closer to me. "Will you.. will you go back with me? To the funeral, I mean?"

"Of course I will." I say, running a hand through his hair. "And I'm going to help you get through this. You are not going to become the self-destructive little boy I left in Chicago all those years ago, okay?"

"Okay." He answers and buries his face into my neck again. I just hold him for a while as he continues to sob. "I love you. Thank you." He says when he pulls away.

"I love you too. How about you stay here tonight?" I ask, and he just nods, wiping his face.

"I'm sure I look like a fucking mess." He laughs, pulling the collar of his shirt up to wipe his eyes.

"Hot mess." I correct, and he smiles at me but it doesn't reach his eyes. "We should tell Ben and Brent, you know. Since we're going to be gone for a few days, I mean."

"Yeah, but some other time. I really don't want to ever move again." Patrick tightens his grip on my waist, bringing a hand to my face to pull me into a kiss. "Your kisses are the best medicine, you know that?"

I roll my eyes, leaning in to kiss him again. The kisses stay fairly chaste since neither of us are in the mood to even attempt going any further. I wouldn't want our first time to be after a day like this anyways, and I'll be willing to bet that Patrick agrees.

--

Ben's face softens, and Brent's eyes widen when they get the news. Of course, they've only met Patrick's dad a handful of times, but they understand how hard this is going to be for Patrick.

"Take two weeks, son. Spend some time with your father before and you mother after. I'm sure Bryar can manage for a few games." Ben says, and Patrick just smiles sadly, thanking him. Brent stays silent.

When Patrick doesn't attend the next practice, the only answer I have for everyone is a shrug. That is, until Brent finally speaks up. "In a few weeks, I'll expect every one of you to cancel any plans you have. We're all going to be there for Patrick." Ben's eyes widen as well as mine and half of the team.

"Seriously, what the hell happened?" Travie is the first to speak up about it, and I sigh.

"Patrick's dad is going to die within the next month. Could be earlier, could be later, but his doctor said the longest he'd live maximum is a month." I say, and everyone gasps in unison. "Patrick, as well as the rest of his family, think it will be sooner rather than later. So I wouldn't look for Patrick to be on campus for a few weeks."

"Holy fuck. Yeah, we'll all be there. Patrick's family is our family now." Bob says, putting a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. "If you or Patrick need anything, dude, let any of us know."

wow a fic where bob isn't an asshat and isn't patrick's boyfriend??

those do exist lmao

okay so patrick's dad is going to die soon (like within the next two chapters soon) and it'll probably fuck patrick up for a little while but he'll eventually get over it

so sorry for the sad chapter luv u guys