What Twisted Webs We Weave

I'm Just Here For The Psych Assessment

(Patrick's POV)

I could feel my head thumping to the beat of my heart before I opened my eyelids. It made me want to throw the covers over my face and spend the rest of the day balled in a pathetic mess on my bed.

But the sound of pots and pans being moved around in the distance caught my interest. My curiosity beat out my self dread and I sat up. The sunlight streaming in from my parted curtains attacked my eyes as soon as they opened.

I didn't remember opening the damn curtains. Joe must have done it when he woke up this morning. It was nice of him to come over and take care of me yesterday. He told me he'd come at the request of Pete. Which was a good thing. It meant Pete still cared about me.

The blankets were still tucked under me. I shook my head at the memory of how Joe was forced to basically cocoon me in it to keep me from freaking out. I was so fucked up yesterday.

It was hotter in the room than I was comfortable with. I scrambled from under the covers. Noticing the clean sweats and tshirt I was wearing now. Joe must have changed my clothes. My thumb pulled back the elastic waistband of my sweats. Revealing the new briefs under them.

Why would he change my briefs? I didn't think Joe would feel comfortable enough for something like that. We'd been friends for a while but that didn't mean I wanted him to see me naked.

And then a more important thought hit me. He changed my shirt. He saw my scars. He knew about my cutting now. How was I supposed to face him? What if he wanted to talk about it? I wasn't ready to talk about it. I wasn't ready for everybody to know. Pete and Brendon were already two too many.

The doorknob jiggled under Joe's hand. My body tensed up involuntarily. Preparing for the oncoming and unwanted confrontation.

I slumped in relief when Pete walked through the door. A tray of food in his hands. My stomach grumbled as he walked closer. The food was in better view and the smell filled my nose. Eggs, toast, bacon, apple slices and oranges juice. Last time I checked, Pete was a horrible cook. But the meal in front of me looked delightful. The gesture was sweat enough to bring tears to my eyes. He'd never made me breakfast in bed before.

He lowered the tray in my lap and I smiled. Almost afraid to speak and ruin the moment. There was no way he didn't know what happened yesterday. Ryan must have told him. I didn't get why he hadn't walked in screaming about how much of a hypocrite I was.

His eyebrows rose sympathetically when he took a seat beside me. And then I understood. He felt bad for me.

"Y-You made all this?" I broke the silence.

"I ordered it from the diner." He confessed. "But I did put it on the plate." The joke lightened the mood in the room.

I laughed. "You did good."

He frowned when I laughed. His fingers reaching out to touch near the corner of my mouth. The flat of his finger tapping my lip. It wasn't until he touched it that I felt the soreness. There must be a bruise or cut of some sort.

"I swear to God I'm going to kick Ryan's ass." The words were said too softly. It made them more menacing.

"Don't. I deserved it." I lifted up a strip of bacon. Biting into it to distract myself.

Anybody would have reacted the same way in his position. He'd literally walked in on his boyfriend inside of me. Granted, he'd been inside of Pete just days before. Or maybe Pete had been inside or him. Were their positions versatile like Pete and I? I didn't want to think about it but I couldn't help myself.