Bandom Oneshots

Room for Two, Bed for One 》 Daltrick

Published: 2/21/2019
Pairing: Dallon Weekes/Patrick Stump
Description: "There was only one bed"

---

The receptionist of the hotel looks at them with a sheepish expression after checking the rooms available. "Well, there's a bit of a situation here."

"What is it?" Dallon questions, alert. Patrick sighs in defeat, thinking that all the rooms are taken.

"Well, we have one room left," she says. Both teens look at each other and smile, then turn back to her.

"What's the problem then?" Patrick asks. "We only need one room."

Apparently the receptionist finds this funny, because she laughs quietly. "Nevermind. I guess you are desperate enough for this to work." She tells them the price of the room, which was honestly lower than expected. Patrick noted this, but decided she was taking pity on them. How else would you treat teenagers who should be at home?

They pay, and she hands Dallon the room key. The room is on the first floor, at the end of the hall. The two make sure they have all their bags before making it to the hall. "...129, and 130!" Dallon cheers, and presses the room key into the reader. It dings, and he opens the door.

Once they step into the room, they recognize the problem. "Fuck," Patrick says, and Dallon nods in agreement.

There was only one bed. A small one, at that. Out of respect, Dallon says, "I'll take the floor."

Patrick shakes his head immediately. "No, that'll hurt your back, and you already gave me a piggyback ride the way here."

Dallon hesitates. He scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, I don't want you sleeping on the floor... We can share the bed.."

It doesn't matter how close they are. Sharing a bed is awkward because they're teenagers, and that can be a romantic gesture sometimes. Besides, there won't be much space between them at all.

"Yeah, that's cool," Patrick stutters. And it's definitely not because he's been crushing on Dallon for ages now. No, that would be crazy.

Patrick heads down to the lobby just about five minutes later. He heads over to the receptionist's desk. "Do you have an extra blanket we can use?"

She smiles at him, and asks quietly, "Are you satisfied with your arrangements?"

It catches him offguard, because when he looks up, he realizes she is smirking. Holy shit. She was in on it. "Yeah," he nods, thanking not only God but also Jesus for this blessed moment.

She hands him the blanket. "Have fun tonight, kid."

"We're not together," Patrick adds, blushing severely. The receptionist looks at him with a faint smile.

"Yet," she says, and then turns away.

That damn receptionist was the mastermind all along.

---

"Are you feeling comfortable?" Dallon speaks up. The two are laying in the bed, looking up at the ceiling.

"Yeah," Patrick replies, trailing off. He begins to think about why they were even at this hotel to begin with. "Do you really think thing's will be better by tomorrow?"

"Of course," Dallon answers. "Your parents are just shocked right now. Mine were too when I came out to them."

"I hope so," Patrick sighs. He couldn't deny how scared he was. He told his parents just about an hour ago, and they seemed outraged by the news. Shocked, hurt, mad, and even sad. Then, he called his best friend and together they ran out to the nearest hotel to spend the night at. Dallon kept telling him they'll get used to it, but sometimes Patrick thinks they never will.

"Don't be afraid," Dallon says, and pulls him closer, if that's even possible. The two are already pressed together, due to the small size of the bed. It was clearly meant for one person, but they made it work. "Even if they aren't here for you, I am."

If only the goddamn receptionist was here to see this. She would probably just smirk again, as Patrick's face turns redder than a tomato. "Thanks, Dallon."

What is it about this hotel room that's making him feel so sentimental? Normally, Patrick's able to keep his crush under wraps and convince himself they're just friends. Why is it so different here? Why does he feel the crushing desire to tell his friend exactly how he feels?

But the confessions of the heart are never easy matters. Though he wants to tell him, he also knows he can't. Things won't be the same anymore, and Patrick can't deal with that. He doesn't want to lose their friendship over something as stupid as his feelings.

"Can I tell you something?" Dallon asks, a sense of urgency in his voice.

"Of course," Patrick replies, turning to face his friend.

"I know that the events that brought us here weren't... favorable, but I love this," Dallon states. Then, he adds, "I love being with you."

His heart's beating too fast. "We hang out all the time though," he says, forcing a chuckle.

"Yeah, but this is just calmer. It's just us." To accentuate his point, he gestures to their bodies and how close they are.

"But what even are we?" Patrick asks, and then bites his tongue. He did not mean to say that, or even suggest there was some funny business going on. It's just that sometimes, just sometimes, Dallon acts a certain way, a certain way that probably pushes the boundary of friends. He's affectionate, but it's so much more than he gets from other friends.

"Funny you should ask that," Dallon chuckles. "I've been wondering that myself."

And it feels heavenly to hear that, to know that he wasn't delusional, that he saw what was before him. "Do you want to be more than friend's?" Patrick bravely asks.

"Of course I do," Dallon grins. "You really think I'd just leave my house in the middle of the night for just anyone?"

"Maybe," Patrick says, considering it. "Best friend's do things like that."

"But do best friend's do this?" Dallon turns his head and brings their lips together. Patrick smiles against his lips.

"No, I guess they don't," he says, after they pull away. "So I guess we aren't just best bro's."

But then, Dallon smirks. "No homo," he jokes. Patrick groans, which makes him laugh.

When Dallon goes to sleep, which happens before he does, Patrick presses a kiss to his head.

---

In the morning, they check out from the hotel. Patrick had woken up to texts from his parents, who were begging him to come home. He figured things are better now.

When they see the receptionist, Patrick says, "It worked, Miss Row."

Miss Row grins. "I knew it would." And that's because the one bed scenario always works. Miss Row often uses this technique for lovers who are pining after each other.

They go seperate ways once they make it to their neighborhood. An hour later, Dallon gets a text from Patrick saying: You were right. They're fine with it now, they just needed time.

Dallon texts back, I'm always right. This is not a factual statement, but both can pretend.

And when Patrick later sends I love you, Dallon sends back, I love you too.