Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

21. Dancing Lonely

Angst. IOH era.

It took Patrick almost an hour to find where Pete had wandered off to. It was nearly one in the morning now, three hours since Pete had left their bus with nothing but a short "going for a walk" as explanation. The door had shut behind him before Patrick could respond. In retrospect, he should've followed Pete right then. They may have gotten into a fight when Patrick prodded to find out what was going on, but a short shouting match would've been better that an off-grid Pete.

He gave him two hours, plenty of time to take a long walk, and then began to call. Pete didn't pick up, so he grabbed a car and started driving. Pete finally texted him half past midnight. When Patrick checked his phone while stopped at a light, the message had a street corner listed and nothing else.

Patrick gripped the steering wheel tighter and turned on his turn signal.

Pete did not look good. He was sitting under a streetlight with his back against the building closest to it, and his knees were pressed to his chest with his arms wrapped around them. He was staring dead ahead, at nothing. Patrick parked on the corner, paying no mind to any laws that may be, and got out of the car.

"Pete?" He walked closer until his shoes were nudging Pete's. "What happened?"

Pete closed his eyes. "I was just thinking about things." He looked up at Patrick, a too-wide smile stitched on. "It's nothing, really."

"Bullshit." Patrick sat down in front of him and crossed his legs. "Talk to me. It's unlike you to leave in such a rush to think."

Pete's face went blank. He didn't say anything. Patrick put a hand on his arm and waited.

"I feel lonely," Pete whispered. "And I don't understand why. I have the fans, the crew, my family, my band, and of course I have you but...sometimes it feels like there's no one. I go to bed at night and I'm alone. I mean, besides when I crawl in bed with you. I just...I don't know. It's stupid. I'm...stupid."

Patrick thought for a moment. "What do you mean by lonely? Like you have no one to talk to? Cause I'm right here." He chuckled nervously.

Pete swallowed. "No, like...like no one to, um, hold me." His voice had gotten unbearably soft, and Patrick could feel his chest tighten. It always hurt him to see his best friend upset, but this...

"Oh." Patrick took a deep breath. "Okay, I...don't. Know. How to help with that." Patrick was okay with the occasional hug, and with Pete climbing into his bunk when he couldn't sleep, even with the "stage gay" shit Pete pulled on stage. But this? Patrick can't substitute for a significant other. He can be there for Pete as much as he can, but it's not the same and he knows it.

And it tore him up to know he couldn't help.

"It's fine. You're here, and that's...that's enough." Pete shrugged, looking down at the pavement beside him. Patrick ducked his head to meet Pete's eye again. Pete looked heartbroken, and Patrick knew it wasn't enough.

His tone was soft when he spoke again. "Still, I feel like I should be able to do something."

Pete looked up at him again. "Just don't leave me. Please."

"Never."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay." Pete rubbed his eyes. "Can we go back to the bus now?"

The drive back was heavily silent. Patrick drove, trying to come up with something that could help, while Pete stared out the window. It wasn't surprising that Pete walked back to the bunks as soon as they were on the bus again, but Patrick was frozen in the lounge. The blinds hadn't been closed before he left. Moonlight was streaking the floor, giving the room a melancholic glow.

An idea hit him.

"Hey, Pete?" he called out softly. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and began scrolling through his music library.

Pete re-emerged, lingering in the threshold between the front and the back of the bus. "Yeah?"

"Come here."

Patrick found the song he was looking for and started playing it. He turned the volume up as high as it could be. Then he addressed Pete, who was now standing a few steps away. He closed the gap, wrapped his arms around Pete's waist, and pulled him in until their chests were pressed together. It wasn't the closest they'd ever been, but it was the closest they'd been where Patrick had initiated it.

"Patrick?" Pete was stiff in his arms.

Patrick shushed him softly. "Just put your arms around me. I'm here."

Pete did, wrapping his arms around Patrick's neck.

Patrick began swaying with the music. It was a slow dance, and he knew this whole gesture was more romantic than it really needed to be, but then again, wasn't this what Pete needed? Someone to hold him and cherish him and remind him he's loved?

Pete gradually relaxed in Patrick's arms, only to start trembling a minute later. He buried his face in Patrick's neck, and Patrick could feel damp spots on his cheeks. He held Pete tighter.

"Thank you," Pete said once he'd calmed down again. He pressed a soft, warm kiss to Patrick's cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." Patrick smiled. "So this...this helps?"

Pete nodded. "Yeah. This helps."

They slept in the same bunk that night. Patrick held Pete as close as he could manage, comforting him as best as he could when he felt overwhelmed again. The next morning, Pete laid his head on Patrick's shoulder while they ate breakfast. That night, they danced again.