The Storm Comes Before The Rainbow

•15•

When I ask for what you guys think, I won't be replying so I don't drop any hints. You're all on your own here to figure this out. I'm excited to hear it all when we get balls deep into this shit :).

Pete and Patrick lie still in the bed. It's absolutely comfortable as shit and at any other chance they'd be melting away.

But not now.

"Why do I feel like we're in protective custody?" Pete jokes.

Patrick gives a small laugh. "Maybe because we are?"

"In a way."

Patrick sits up and pulls his legs under him so he's sitting criss-cross. Pete props himself up on his elbows. He watches Patrick lean back against the pillows slightly, getting comfortable.

"If we get another letter..." Patrick starts, looking down to Pete.

Pete slides over and places his own head in Patrick's lap. "We're calling the police at that point."

Patrick frowns. "I thought you said this is all a joke."

"No, I said it could be a joke. We don't even know who sent it." Pete frowns back.

Patrick sighs. He runs his fingers through Pete hair. Pete never had long hair like this when he and Patrick were a thing. Patrick likes it like this though. It sets him apart. He always likes to be unique.

"I like when you do that." Pete mumbles.

"What?" Patrick looks down at him.

Pete's eyes meet his. "Play with my hair."

Patrick smiles and shrugs. "It's fun to play with."

"That's not the only thing you like to play with." Pete winks.

Patrick groans in annoyance. "You're terrible."

Pete lets out a short yet steady laugh. There's another silence that follows. Patrick's fingers run their way through Pete's hair, sometimes hitting his scalp. Pete closes his eyes and soaks up the feeling. After a while, Pete can feel himself drifting off into sleep. His eyes open briefly when he feels himself being pulled into a sitting position. Patrick's arm wraps around his waist and Pete's head rests on Patrick's shoulder.

"I love you." Patrick kisses his temple.

"I love you too." Pete mumbles.

~~~

Pete wakes up hours later. Patrick head hangs limply downward, looking severely uncomfortable. That couldn't be good for his neck. It was only 7am, Pete never slept for long anyways. Patrick's arm still is wound around him. He shakes it off and sits on his feet. With two fingers, he slowly lifts Patrick's head upward, he has his other hand on Patrick's neck, supporting that too. Patrick shifts uncomfortably, letting out a whine in protest. His joints crack once his spine is aligned. Patrick's eyes shoot open at the noise and he turns to Pete. Right away, he let out a quiet yet agonizing whimper.

"My neck hurts." He whispers.

"You slept in a really bad position, Patrick." Pete brushes the strawberry blonde locks from his face.

"What time is it?" Patrick slowly turns his head to look at the time. He winces as he does.

"Just lie down." Pete props up the pillow as Patrick leans back.

Patrick lets out a content sigh as his neck hits the pillow supporting it.

"It's about 7am."