Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

39. Second Chance

No band. AB/AP era.

Patrick loved Saturday night, because that was his designated night to stay in, watch movies, and binge on Chinese food. He'd already eaten and he felt like he could fall asleep where he was curled up on the couch. Why couldn't he?

He was halfway through his second movie when the door bell rang through his apartment. "Coming!" he yelled, sighing right after at the prospect of leaving his couch. "I was so comfy," he grumbled, throwing his blanket off his lap.

He looked through the peep hole of his front door. His jaw dropped. He opened the door a crack. "Pete?"

Pete smiled sheepishly. "Hey, Patrick. Long time no see."

"No shit." Patrick leaned against the door frame. "What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were living in Chicago again and I wanted to see how you were. And maybe try to, um, fix things." Pete brought a bouquet of lilacs out from behind his back. Patrick's heart skipped a beat; they'd always been his favorite. "I never liked the way things ended between us."

Patrick swallowed. "There's nothing left to say, Pete. We wanted different things in life, so we split up. It's not like we were left hating each other."

"I know, but there are some things I never told you that you deserve to hear," Pete said. He held the bouquet closer to Patrick. "You don't have to let back into your life forever. I just want time to explain myself."

Patrick sighed. "It's not that simple, Pete," he said softly.

He couldn't help looking Pete over. His jet black fringe had been replaced with bleached blond hair. His shirt didn't hang off him, leading Patrick to believe that he was no longer thin and frail underneath. He risked a glance at Pete's eyes, half-expecting them to be lined with charcoal eyeliner. They weren't, and they had a liveliness to them that felt new.

"Say the word, and I'll leave," Pete said, taking a small step back. So he'd gotten his boundary issues resolved, it seemed.

Patrick bit his lip. He opened his door wider and took the bouquet from Pete's hand. "There's a coffee shop down the block. Let me put some actual clothes on-you can wait inside." He offered Pete a small smile. Pete grinned in return, and Patrick's heart melted like it had when they were in school.

Patrick threw on a clean pair of jeans and a plain blue shirt. He grabbed a cardigan from his closet and slipped on his shoes, then walked back out to his living room.

"You've got a nice place," Pete commented, browsing the bookshelf in the corner. "It's very you."

"Thank you. Let's go before it gets too dark." He opened the door for Pete, following behind him and locking it.

"So, how have you been?" Pete asked. "Last I heard you were living in L.A." Patrick watched out of the corner of his eye as Pete fiddled with his hands, then slipped them in his pockets. The thought crossed his mind that Pete may have debated grabbing his hand, but he shook it off.

"I was for a little while. I got a job with a record company, mixing songs and helping album production."

"What changed?"

Patrick shrugged. "I missed Chicago." He looked up at the buildings towering over him, at the L flying past. "L.A. just wasn't the same. So now I'm doing freelance work. What about you?"

Pete stared at the ground as he talked. "I've been all over the place, DJing wherever I can. I have an apartment here, but I'm hardly ever there. Traveling too much."

"Sounds stressful," Patrick said, turning to the coffee shop and opening the door for Pete.

"A little, but it's fun, too." Pete shot him another smile.

They ordered their drinks and found a booth to sit down in by the window. Patrick looked out at the people walking past, some in business clothes looking like they just got off of work, others in casual clothing like they're going out to dinner.

"So." Patrick cleared his throat. He straightened his posture and forced himself to look Pete in the eye. "You said you wanted to do some explaining?"

"Right." Pete took a deep breath. "Most of the stuff I said? About why we couldn't last past high school? It was bullshit."

Patrick blinked. "Okay. And?"

"And. Well." Pete huffed. "Fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be." He paused. "Do you remember all those times when you'd ask me if I was okay, and I'd said yes, even though I obviously wasn't? Or how every time you'd try to talk about the future, I'd clam up?"

Patrick nodded. "It kind of hurt, actually. That you never talked to me about what was on your mind," he said softly.

Pete went silent. "Well," he began. "I was struggling with bipolar disorder."

Patrick's eyes widened. "What? You never told me!"

Pete smiled sadly. "I loved you and I didn't want to burden you." The smile fell from his face. "It doesn't excuse my behavior though."

The waitress came by and handed them their drinks with a smile. Patrick took a long sip of his, waiting for Pete to continue.

"Pretty much everything could be traced back to it in some way. I've been in therapy for a few years now, and we've picked it down to the bone." Pete cupped his drink with both hands, watching the steam rise.

"What are you saying?" Patrick asked quietly.

"There's a lot," Pete said, followed by a dry laugh. He looked up at Patrick. "But the biggest one to me was about how I didn't want kids."

Patrick closed his eyes. That had always been the biggest thing standing between them; Patrick knew early on he wanted a family, Pete hadn't.

"The only reason I didn't want kids was because I didn't want them to end up like me. I could barely take care of myself, much less a whole other human being." Pete's tone was so soft, and Patrick could hear how earnest he was being.

Patrick opened his eyes. "And now?"

Pete smiled. "I'm working on it. My therapist thinks I'm making good progress."

Patrick couldn't help smiling back.

Pete shifted in his seat. "I know this is all really sudden, but I was wondering if you'd want to get dinner some time?" Patrick noticed his one of his hands lying on the table between them.

Patrick bit his lip. "You said you loved me?"

Pete didn't hesitate to nod. "I did. With all of my heart. I was crushed when we broke up, even if it was a long time coming."

"I loved you too," Patrick said. He covered Pete's hand with his. Pete glanced down at their hands and grinned. "I'm free Thursday."