Better Off In Love (Peterick Au)

I Heard We Made Out

Hi!

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Hey Patrick, I heard we made out

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Pete was trying to think of the right thing to say to Patrick, but he was coming up blank, and had been for some time now. He wanted to take Lynn's advice from earlier and say something to open up a conversation, but it was proving difficult. Pete set his phone face down on his bed, letting out a groan as he covered his eyes with his arm. He mentally prayed to any deity that happened to be checking up on him at that moment to give him something good to say. Pete considered himself to be pretty decent with words, but when it came to talking to someone he actually liked, it all went to shit.

He picked up his phone to look at the clock, the time reading two am. He pressed to lock it again, sending the room back into darkness. Maybe it was the lack of sleep he was currently experiencing, but something told him that it would be a great idea to call Patrick now. At two am. So the impulsive part of Pete's brain did just that.

"Calling Patrick 👼👅💦"

"What the fuck? Are you okay?" Patrick said as soon as he picked up after the third ring. His voice sounded heavy with sleep, which Pete thought was kinda hot, but he also sounded a little panicky.

"I'm fine, I just wanted to call you," Pete told him, rolling onto his front and resting on his forearms.

Patrick let out a small, two AM appropriate laugh.

"Of course,"

There was a moment of silence.

"Are you drunk, Pete? You do know what time it is, right? Most people are asleep right now,"

"Yeah, I... I know. I'm not drunk. I just... Couldn't sleep. Did I wake you up?"

Patrick laughed again.

"Yeah, you did,"

"Sorry," Pete responded immediately. He felt kinda guilty for disturbing Patrick now, especially when he still wasn't quite sure what he was doing.

"Don't worry, it's fine. Was there something keeping you up?" Patrick sounded genuinely concerned, and Pete loved how big his heart was. He always seemed to care, even at stupid times in the morning.

"Um.. I mean, I guess? Nothing major," Pete mumbled.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Patrick asked.

Pete thought for a second, as he settled himself lying on his back, staring up at the dark ceiling.

"It's been years since we last did this, hasn't it?" He suddenly recalled. He used to ring Patrick when it all felt like too much at four in the morning or when either of them couldn't sleep, and some nights one of them would sneak over the short distance to the other's house, or they'd spend hours whispering down the phone.

"It has," Patrick agreed, similarly nostalgic. "Seriously though, is there anything you wanted to talk about?"

"How are you?" Pete asked. "I haven't seen you since that party and I was just... Wondering,"

"I've been... Fine, since the hangover wore off,"

"I don't normally drink that much, you must be a bad influence on me," Pete smiled.

"You were just as keen to take those shots as I was, don't you give me that shit, Wentz,"

Pete gave a soft chuckle.

"How much... How much of the evening do you remember?" He forced the words out, nervous but also kinda wondering if Patrick knew what he did.

"I, uh... Very little,"

"Oh, okay," Pete wasn't sure if Patrick was being totally truthful, but he was also too nervous to tell him what happened. Damn, this was stupid.

"But... I mean I messaged Lynn a couple of days after and she kind of... Filled me in,"

"Oh," Pete exhaled. "Yeah, I... I spoke to her too..."

"Ah,"

"So we, um,"

"Yeah,"

"And how do you feel about...?" Pete questioned.

"Um... Well..." Patrick began, his voice wavering. "I've... Got to go see you bye!" He hurried out, quickly hanging up.

Pete looked at his phone in disbelief. He couldn't help the distinct feeling that he'd somehow fucked up.