Peterick Oneshots :)

petey IX

Guess who's back? Back again. Petey's back. Back again.

Patrick had no belongings besides a small bag of items. He hadn't bought a home. He was holding out for Pete, who didn't hesitate to take him home.

They spent the night watching their favorite movies, curled up in their pajamas. Bowie took a liking to Patrick, and Patrick's fingers didn't leave his fur.

They kissed in bed that night. They kissed until it got too hot in the room. Until their eyes sagged. Until their mouths got dry.

The next morning Pete woke up in the bed alone. He could hear the happy pant of Bowie from outside the bedroom. He smiles, knowing Patrick's finally here to wake up to.

"Patrick?"

"You'll have to get use to calling me Vaughn."

As Pete walks to the kitchen, Patrick's blue eyes jump up to his. His pink lips curl into a smirk. He's making eggs, and there's already two plates with toast and bacon on them.

"In private I'm calling you Patrick," Pete rests his chin on Patrick's bare shoulder. The blonde was only in boxers.

He loves the newfound confidence.

"In private you get to call me whatever you want," Patrick bites his lip.

He carries the hot pan to the plate and spoons half the eggs onto one and the other half onto the other. "Get forks," Patrick says, walking to the table with the plates in hand.

Pete returns, excited to eat the hot breakfast with his hot boyfriend. "I missed you so much," Pete grabs his hand.

Patrick grins. "I've missed you more."

"You're so beautiful as a blonde. Is Vaughn still my little psychopath?"

"Partially, I haven't wanted to kill since being with you."

Pete squeezes his hand. "I'm glad."

"I still put the hot in psychotic though," Patrick winks.

Pete laughs, humming soon after. "You do," He looks to Bowie, who sits by them.

The dog looks expectant; head cocked and ears slightly raised. Patrick smiles at the dog, leaning down to say hello. Bowie licks his face, causing the blonde to giggle.

It's a beautiful sight. Like a little family. Pete's heart soars and twirls. Patrick grabs some bacon, holding it out for Bowie. "Sit," He says sternly, drawing it out.

Bowie plops on his ass, panting and tail wagging in excitement. Patrick squeals. "Good boy!" He feeds the dog the bacon while petting his forehead.

"Bowie loves you more than me," Pete chuckles, watching Patrick with dilated pupils.

Patrick beams. "No, he loves his parents both equally."

Parents. Pete's heart almost explodes. He watches Bowie rest his head on Patrick's knee.

"Petey, we've talked so much about me," Patrick forks eggs onto his toast. "How have you been?"

Pete shakes his head. "Lonely. I missed you. I dreamt of you. I blamed everything on myself. You never had to take the fault for my murder, baby."

Patrick's eyebrows furrow. He then smiles. "I had to. I wasn't going to let you go to prison. And I know I can get out of jail. You can't."

"How do you escape?"