Peterick OneShots

Sleep

School AU: Pete is in college studying for finals, and Patrick is in highschool doing the same. But finals are exhausting and sleep is much better. Senseless fluff basically (my descriptions are awful sorry)

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Focus focus focus focus. Just highlight the last few chapters, then you can take a break. Focus.

Pete took a deep breath, biting his lip as he concentrated. His arms were shaky and his eyes were exhausted and he knew it was well past midnight but he had to finish. Another agonizing 30 minutes of notes and the man caved, groaning as he leaned back on his couch. Pete ran his hands over his face, arms flopping to his sides as he heard his front door unlock.

"I come bearing gifts!" Pete smiled as he rolled his head to the side, watching as Patrick entered the living room. His backpack was slung over his shoulder, and he was in layers of hoodies, his signature trucker hat pulled low. But Pete knew the boy's eyes were bright, his cheeks and nose red from the cold, and his smile wide and warm.

Patrick triumphantly waved a cup of coffee in front of him and Pete shot up, snatching the cup away greedily. He ignored the laughter as he took a huge sip, burning his tongue in the process, but he couldn't care less. Coffee was caffeine, caffeine was energy, energy meant he could get this school shit done. Then he could hang out with his friend.

"So where are the other two?" asked Patrick. Pete sat his cup down on the table in front of him, shrugging.

"Joe said something about seeing this metal band play? I wasn't really paying attention to be honest with you."

Patrick nodded his understanding, sighing. He pulled his backpack off his shoulders, pulling out a huge binder and two textbooks. With a loud thud Patrick dropped them onto the coffee table, cringing at the noise. Pete watched sympathetically.

"Finals?" he asked finally, and the kid nodded mournfully. Pete hummed in understanding, glancing back over at his notes.

"Make you a deal?" He said after a moment; Patrick looked over at him, curiosity and caution in his eyes. Pete grinned wickedly before continuing.

"If we get through tonight's worth of studying without tapping out for anything other than a coffee or bathroom break, I'll get you tickets to that band you've been talking about."

Patrick's eyes went wide, his face lighting up with hope. "You- You mean it? Like, for real?" Pete couldn't help but smile; the boy's voice had risen an octave and the childlike hope was just too adorable. He'd have most likely bought them regardless with the kid giving him eyes like that.

Pete nodded, tugging off his hat to mess up hair. Patrick shoved his arm away playfully, face still lit up. "So what do you get? Like, if you finish all of your work?" Patrick asked suddenly.

The older man shrugged, watching the boy curiously. "I don't really know. The possibility of passing?"

Patrick rolled his eyes and scooted onto the floor, settling in front of the coffee table. "I'll get something for you," he mumbled, low enough Pete barely caught it. He fought back a blush, choosing instead to turn back to his notes.

They managed an hour of complete silence, disturbed only by the scratching of pens on paper, before Patrick groaned, leaning his head back on the couch. He turned his tired blue eyes up at Pete, pouting. "I wanna take a break.. Can we make more coffee?"

Pete nodded, warmth spreading through his chest. Trick was a cute kid, he couldn't help it. He stood, stretching, watching with amusement as Patrick did the same. The jacket and shirt he had on slipped up as he stretched, exposing a sliver of pale skin. Pete's grin could've split his face as he reached over, poking Patrick's tummy playfully.

The boy flushed, hurriedly pulling the fabric down. Pete's grin stayed in place. "You are just the cutest kid, y'know that Rick?" Patrick's blush deepened.

"Not a kid," he muttered, shuffling to the kitchen. Stifling a laugh, the older man followed, leaning against the entryway. Patrick took his time starting the coffee, leaning against the counter to wait.

"So what classes are you studying for Trick," Pete broke the silence after a moment.

The younger boy heaved a sigh "Algebra and Chemistry. Honestly, why did they have to put the hardest friggen finals on the same day! It's ridiculous and unfair and I hate it." he slouched again, pouting. Pete's heart twisted a little in sympathy; he knew how hard highschool was, and he felt for the little dude.

"Hey," he called softly, waiting until Patrick met his eyes," You're gonna do fine Trick. You're a smart kid, smarter than you give yourself credit for. And we're gonna study like hell tonight. You got this Rickster."

Patrick smiled fondly at him, pink tinging his cheeks.

The coffee machine dinged, and they both hurriedly made themselves their coffee. Pete moaned in gratitude as he drank his, ignoring the burn in his throat. Patrick shook his head as he watched, carefully making his coffee the way he liked it before returning to the living room.

'Focus' he repeated to himself once more, settling in front of his book. Pete took a deep breath and a long sip from his cup before leaning forward, reading over his notes intently, highlighting important phrases he needed to remember. He could feel Patrick's amused smile as he mouthed along with his notes, but he didn't mind much. It helped him remember, and he desperately needed to pass.

Minutes turned to hours of silence as they studied, aching from their bent over positions and eyes sore from staring at pages for so long. Pete was fighting off sleep by sheer force of will, but Patrick wasn't so lucky. After around 2 more hours Pete felt something hit his knee, and he leaned back to look down.

Patrick was completely passed out, leaning so far to the side that he was in Pete's lap. His knees were pulled up to his chest and hands were under his cheek, pillowing him from Pete's bony legs.

If anyone were to see, Pete would deny the ridiculous smile that threatened to break his face in half. He would never ever admit that he let Trick sleep for another 45 minutes, lightly brushing his fingers through his red-brown hair. And when Pete was finally ready to give up and pass out as well, he would never tell a soul that he carefully scooped up the younger boy, carrying him to his room to tuck him in to bed.

But he did. Pete leaned against the doorframe for a moment, watching Patrick roll over in his sleep, and the warmth that spread through his body at that moment was his own sleepy secret. Pete shut the door carefully, shuffling across the hall to his own room, falling into a peaceful sleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.