tell me you love me (peterick)

x.

patrick turned to his side, a hand on pete's crossed knee. pete shivered at the touch. through his jeans, he could barely feel the outline of patrick's fingers, but he knew that that was patrick there, and that was enough for his spine to falter.

pete's breath was hot and fast, and he hadn't brushed his teeth last night, why didn't he do that? but it didn't matter because patrick was there, and patrick's breath was warm on his lips, and he smelled like mint, and patrick's lips were dry and cracked, and pete couldn't think.

the moment when lips touch is the moment when you stop breathing.

patrick leaned in and he wasn't thinking either. he would bet the world that pete had a lungful of laughter somewhere, hiding, but he would be wrong. all there was between the two of them was a fire and an ocean.

there's no going back now.

pete stopped breathing, and he kissed patrick. he didn't know how he would ever breathe again. not when patrick was here.

his eyes were closed to all sensation except for the taste of his best friend, and his heart was pounding, beating to the tune of tristan und isolde, a duet for the ages. there weren't butterflies in his stomach, there were fucking hurricanes, and they were storming in circles of worry and patrick is kissing me.

patrick was the one who leaned away, his breath fast on pete's lips, he breathed a smile into composition, eyes wide, like baby worlds come to life. pete had never seen his eyelashes up so close, but they were as fragile as faerie wings, and long, gentle.

pete couldn't look away from his eyes. they were a mosaic of stars, and pete was going to drown in the other boy's fire.