Patrick is 3000% sure Pete is the most annoying person on earth. The solar system. The entire fucking universe.
Some nights Patrick comes to bed after Pete, and that's always a bad start, because he's usually got his head on Patrick's pillow. Now, Patrick wouldn't mind this if it weren't for the fact he has his feet on his own side, so he's basically sprawled out across the whole bed in the strongest depiction of a diagonal-starfish Patrick has ever encountered. Patrick has to set to work shoving him over; because of fucking course Pete is a heavy sleeper and he can't just shake him awake. By the time he's managed to get him almost there Pete will roll back over and grunt something about Patrick's pillow smelling like his shampoo and his skin, so naturally it's way better. Patrick finds this rather creepy (which means he really thinks it's adorable, but he's tired and grumpy and Pete's being annoying so he's sticking to creepy, okay? Okay.)
"Pete, for fuck's sake, then why can't you put your whole body on my side so I can sleep on yours?"
"Well, I wouldn't want to put you out." Pete mumbles back, and that's when Patrick will yank out his pillow from under Pete's head and think about hitting him with it. Pete will just smile through half lidded eyes and open his arms wide like he expects Patrick to climb into them and snuggle.
"Wanna cuddle?" Pete says, in his best creeper voice.
Patrick does hit him with the pillow then. "No." But then he clambers in anyway, fitting himself in somehow. Pete grins like he's won the best prize at a carnival and kisses Patrick on the nose.
-
But the real issue is if Patrick goes to bed first, because this is so much worse. Pete will almost always crawl in at some ungodly hour and apparently Pete Wentz's biggest struggle in life is getting comfortable, or maybe it's just making life easy for Patrick, because he'll be twisting and turning and stealing all the fucking blankets for about twenty long minutes. And then, then, just as Patrick is profusely thanking god for the silence and is on the blissful edge of sleep he'll hear;
"Trick?" Pete's voice is small but it yanks Patrick back from that knife edge of beautiful oblivion.
"I'm sleeping." Patrick all but growls in reply.
"Well, I can't." Pete huffs.
"Maybe if you stopped moving about," Patrick yanks on the quilt. "And stop hogging the blanket."
"I barely have any." Pete tugs.
"Half of my legs are hanging out!" Patrick tugs back harder.
Pete yanks the blanket back and uncovers Patrick completely.
"You needy shit." Patrick grumbles and tries to inconspicuously shift closer to Pete to get under the blanket properly.
Suddenly Pete is on top of Patrick, and he's really heavy for someone who claims to be a small guy. Patrick shoves at him uselessly. Pete makes a happy noise and remains completely still, his arms wrapped around Patrick like a clingy fucking koala or some other annoying ass animal that is a giant shit. "I'll be your blanket, lunchbox."
Patrick sighs. "The blanket does a fine job of being a blanket, Pete, if a certain someone would just share it."
"But this is so much better."
Patrick resigns himself to a night of being too hot and tries to fall asleep while basically dying because he can't breathe properly.
"Oh my god, Pete, stop, Pete, no, Pete," Patrick squirms under Pete's sudden burst of gleeful giggles. "Pete! Get your hand away from there!"
"No." He murmurs richly, breath tickling at Patrick's neck, which is starting to bead with sweat because Pete is hot and heavy and annoying as hell and why is his hand down there, oh my god - Pete licks a stripe of sweat off the side of Patrick's neck and everything Patrick is thinking flies out the window.
I hate you, Patrick thinks as Pete begins to move his hand. I hate you I hate you I hate you I love you so much I hate you I hate you.
