Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

40. Serenade

Pre-TTTYG era. Fluff. The song quoted is "Drops of Jupiter" by Train and it makes me SOFT.

Patrick stared up at Pete's window. The pebble in his hand suddenly felt way too heavy, as if it were a bullet, as he studied the moonlit glass above him. He bit his lip. He adjusted his guitar strap on his shoulder.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he raised his arm and threw the rock. The clatter it made sounded like an explosion to his anxious ears.

"Come on, Pete," he whispered. "There's no way you're asleep."

He let out a sigh of relief when the blinds in Pete's window opened. He could make out Pete's head, craning and tilting, pausing. Patrick took it as his cue and raised a hand in greeting. Pete bent down, opening his window.

"Patrick?" he whisper-yelled.

"Hey," Patrick said.

"What are you doing here?"

Patrick's heart sped up. "Um. I uh." He swallowed. "There's something I've been meaning to tell you."

"Okay then." Pete's head turned to the side, giving Patrick a moonlit view of his profile. "It's one in the morning, though."

"As if you weren't awake," Patrick teased.

"But you're not usually awake right now. What's bugging you?" Pete crossed his arms and leaned forward on his windowsill.

Patrick couldn't think of anything to say, so he focused on not destroying his guitar as he lifted it over his shoulder and brought it to his chest.

"Oh shit. Don't tell me you're here to serenade me." Patrick could hear the grin in Pete's voice.

"Maybe?" he squeaked. He strummed a chord, thanking any god above that his guitar was still in tune.

"Well, don't keep me waiting, Tricky."

Patrick smiled to himself. He strummed the first few measures of the song he picked, glad that it was too dark and he was too far away for Pete to see him tremble with nerves.

The countdown in his head was almost done. Patrick took a deep breath.

"Now that he's back in the atmosphere with drops of Jupiter in his hair, hey, hey. He acts like summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's a-time to change."

Patrick couldn't see Pete's eyes widening, but he knew him well enough that there was no doubt in his mind that surprise was written all over his face.

The song had come out a few months before Patrick met Pete. As soon as he had heard it, it stuck in his mind as a melancholic love song with a lot of cool space metaphors. Then, when he met Pete, he found that he couldn't listen to the song without thinking about him. It was only a few weeks before he knew he had a crush on Pete, and he knew exactly how he wanted to tell him.

Like this.

"And tell me: did you fall from a shooting star? One without a permanent scar, and did you miss me while you were looking for yourself?"

Pete hadn't moved the entire time Patrick sang. He knew because he hadn't looked away from Pete the entire time, either; the lack of light made him feel comfortable enough to watch for a reaction.

Patrick sang the last notes and played the last chord. Before he could say anything, Pete disappeared from the window. His chest tightened in fear. He guided his guitar back over his shoulder.

Then, he heard a door open.

The next thing he knew, he was being near-tackled in a hug. Pete had his arms wrapped around him so tight that Patrick though he couldn't breathe.

It didn't matter. He hugged back with as much intensity, digging his fingers into Pete's back.

Pete pulled back and pressed at least ten kisses to Patrick's cheek. He rested his forehead against Patrick's temple. "You sing so beautifully, Pattycakes. Does this mean what I think it does?"

Patrick was speechless. He nodded.

Pete grinned softly, melting Patrick's heart in an instant. "Does this mean I can kiss you?" he whispered. A hand came up to cup Patrick's jaw.

Patrick closed his eyes. He nodded again.

Pete placed a soft kiss on Patrick's lips, lingering long enough for Patrick's brain to kick into gear so he could kiss back. Pete pulled away a fraction of an inch, tilted his head, and kissed him again.

"Do you want to come inside and cuddle with your boyfriend?" Pete asked. Patrick could feel every syllable on his skin. His heart skipped a beat at the word "boyfriend."

"As much as I would love to, my mom will definitely freak out if she comes in my room tomorrow morning and I'm not there, and we both know I can't wake up early enough to sneak back in," Patrick explained.

Pete sighed. "Fine. Next time?"

Patrick smiled. "Next time."

"Yay." Pete kissed Patrick one last time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Patrick." he said, pulling away.

"See you tomorrow." Patrick gave Pete a small wave and turned to walk home, a skip in his step and a smile on his lips.