Archaic ||Peterick||

Wild Creatures

Patrick was gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles were whiter than paper. His jaw was firmly set and his eyes locked on the dark road in front of him.

"What the actual fuck?"

Pete sat, hugging his knees, in the back seat of the car. He was curled up in Patrick's jumper, which he had poorly convinced Patrick was his, pouting like a kicked puppy.

"What do you mean 'what the actual fuck?'?! I was trying to go home! Away from the psychopath in the front seat!" Pete screamed back at him, not completely done with his tantrum.

In that moment he wanted nothing more than to reach over and rip Patrick's head off his shoulders. He balled his fists angrily, not caring about the searing pain travelling up his arms.

"I want out! I want out! I want out! I wanna be back home with Ashlee!" His voice cracked on her name. He buried his face in his knees and tugged at his own hair.

Sobs racked his body. Patrick glanced at him in the rear view mirror. He'd never seen him cry like this, only a few tears over petty Pete things.

"Pete-"

"NO! You don't get to talk to me!" Pete screamed, he could almost feel his throat rip at the intensity of it.

"You fucking psychopathic bastard!" Pete decided to attack the empty passengers seat instead of Patrick himself. He ripped the fine leather to shreds. His vision was clouded with red.

He wanted to hurt everything and anything, especially Patrick.

By this point Patrick had pulled over. He jumped out and dragged Pete out of the car before any more damage could be done. Pete kicked and screamed, throwing wild punches in hopes one would hit Patrick.

The younger boy let out groans whenever Pete would catch him. He wrapped his arms around the screaming boy, trapping his arms at his sides.

Pete tried desperately to struggle free from his grip.

"Don't touch me!"

"Not what you said when we met," Patrick muttered.

They stayed there for what felt like hours, until Pete had calmed down.

"If I let go are you gonna go all ninja cunt on me?"

Pete slumped against him and shook his head wordlessly. Patrick threw him back into the car and got in.

"What did my seat ever do to you?"
Patrick examined the shredded seat that might just be able to be salvaged. Pete huffed and crossed his arms. He didn't answer, making a long silence fall over the car.

Patrick pressed play on the tape deck. 'I Wanna Dance With Somebody' cut through the air like a knife through an unpleasant slice of cake.

Pete groaned loudly like the song was going to tamper with his 'masculinity'.

Only a minute later, Patrick was regretting ever decision he'd ever made. He made a promise to himself that the next time they stopped he'd get himself earplugs.

"OH I WANNA DANCE WITH SOMEBODY! I WANNA FEEL THE HEAT WITH SOMEBODY!"

Pete belted at the top of his lungs, dancing around as much as he could in the small space. He was grinning ear to ear and yelling with everything he had.

Patrick vaguely wondered if Pete would even notice if he turned it off.

"Do do do do... DO DO! CLOCK STRIKES-"

Patrick resisted the urge to smash one of their faces through the window.

He turned the tape off the second the song was over.

"Pete I'll ask once more: what the fuck?"

"What?" Pete was happily bouncing in his seat, a complete mood swing from only a few minutes ago.

"You went from trying to kill my car to singing along to the gayest song ever."

Pete crossed his arms.

"Nu uh."

"Pete you were literally-"

"Patrick look!"

Pete pressed his face against the window and pointed.

"You're famous!"

Patrick froze. He didn't say anything. Absolutely nothing.
Patrick squinted forward, now realising it wasn't late night traffic he was stuck in, it was an fbi check.

"Pete are you able to drive?"

"I don't have a license since I was napped but I can... kinda."

"Good enough," Patrick climbed into the back of the car. "Start driving."

Patrick let the backseat down and climbed into the boot, weaving around his stuff.

"Will they not check the boot?" Pete asked, climbing into the drivers seat happily.

"I'll fucking work it out!" Patrick growled.

Pete held the steering wheel, now realising how much power he had. He pulled up to the stop, bored of sitting and waiting alone. He rolled down his window. 

"Hello Mr. Officer," He chirped.

The agent looked inside the car suspiciously.

"What happened to the seat?"

Pete looked at it for a long while before answering.

"...Raccoon... Wild creatures really but in my opinion, very cute."

"Seems more of a rabid trouble maker."

Pete huffed at the faint snort from the boot.

"Can I see your licence?"

"Uh.. you know, this is a really fun role play we have going on but I'm not much for foreplay."

The agent raised his eyebrow "excuse me?"

"You're excused." Pete smiled and put the car into first gear, ready to drive.

The agent opened the door.

"Alright, out you come."

Pete grinned and jumped out.

"This is what I'm talking about. Do you top or bottom? Because I can do both. But we'll probably need a motel, car sex is not fun."

"You know what, sir? You're free to go."

The officer tucked a piece of blonde hair behind his hair. He was very, very uncomfortable. Probably still a trainee. But he was willing to let him go just to get out of it.

"Really already? I'm not even hard yet."

"Now before I arrest you."

"What if that's what I want?" Pete winked.

"Get in the car."

Pete quickly obliged and waved as he drove away.

"I can't believe your horrible flirting worked."

"Horrible?! You offend me, Pattycakes. And to think, you fell for that 'horrible' flirting."

"I did not fall for it. I gave into you because you were desperate, and I didn't have to pay you."

Pete looked at the backseat, Patrick couldn't get out of the boot until Pete pulled down the seat or stopped the car.

He took the nearest exit and started driving back the way they came. Patrick pushed up the cover of the boot and climbed into the passengers side, weary of the seat.

"Where on earth do you think we're going?"

Pete screamed, almost crashing the car.

"How the fuck?!"

"You really aren't the brightest."

Patrick made Pete pulled over, throwing Pete back into the back. He waited for Pete to drift off before quietly turning back on the tape.

He sang to himself as he continued along. He looked up at the next road sign he passed, momentarily. Next stop, New Jersey.