Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

45. Bad Break Up

Hehehe angst time. I'm in on an IOH kick so we're going to stick with that era.

Patrick woke up around one in the morning. Pete was still in his arms, his back to Patrick's chest, and from what's Patrick's half-conscious mind could tell, he was still awake. It didn't surprise him; the break up Pete was going through was a nasty one. His eyes were almost stained red, and tear tracks tinted with eyeliner marked his cheeks. When he asked Patrick if he could sleep with him, be held by him, he couldn't say no.

Patrick could hear Pete whispering to himself, absently running a hand up and down Patrick's forearm.

"You wouldn't do this to me," Pete said, sighing. "You wouldn't leave me like this. Maybe I should date you instead."

Patrick became a little more aware of his surroundings at that. He tightened his hold on Pete when he felt his chest shake on his next inhale.

"Can I date you, Pattycakes? I promise I'll still be your best friend. I'll give you all the fries in the bottom of the bag. I'll make sure all your dreams are sweet and that you're never cold." Pete paused, jolting as a sob tore through him. "I'll love you unconditionally, like I do now, but more. I'll always be loyal to you. I won't...I won't cheat on you, like she did to me."

Patrick didn't know what to say.

"And if we did break up," Pete continued quietly, "I wouldn't scream and yell and insult you. It would break my heart, I think, no matter what, but I wouldn't try to drag you down with me. I'd give you all the space you needed- hell, if you needed space I'd move to fucking Mars just so you would keep smiling at me like you do." He paused. "I wouldn't do this to you. Just like you wouldn't to me."

Pete's voice had gradually gotten thicker with sorrow, and finally Patrick heard sobs escaping him.

Patrick sat up. "Hey, come here, it's okay," he said gently. Pete stiffened. "Pete, I've got you, it's alright."

Pete sat up slowly, then turned to face Patrick. "How much of that did you hear?"

"Doesn't matter." Patrick wrapped his arms around Pete and pulled him to his chest. "It's okay."

Pete wrapped his arms around Patrick, grabbing his shirt in a death grip. Patrick could feel tears wetting his shirt when Pete hid his face against his sternum. Patrick smoothed down his hair, whispering every reassurance he could think of.

"She didn't deserve you, you know that right? You deserve so much better than her." Pete continued to shake and hiccup. "You're smart, and funny, and you're so hopeful, you light up every room you walk into."

Pete shook his head. "Then why-" he was cut off by another sob.

Patrick grabbed Pete's chin and tilted his head up until they locked eyes. "Because she was stupid, and she didn't know what she had right in front of her. Now breathe with me, Pete."

Patrick took Pete's hand and held it over his heart so Pete could feel his chest rise and fall, copying the tempo.

Pete's breathing calmed, but tears continued to fill his eyes. Patrick wiped them away, then cupped Pete's face and kissed his forehead. "You're going to be okay," he promised. "You don't need her."

Pete almost looked like he believed him. He studied Patrick's face carefully, leaning in a fraction of an inch. Patrick didn't stop him.

When Pete kissed him, once, softly, Patrick only moved to acknowledge what Pete was doing and that he was okay with it.

"I don't need her," Pete whispered, more to himself than to Patrick. "Can I still stay?"

Patrick nodded, wrapping his arms around Pete and pulling him back down to the pillows.

"Thank you." Pete paused. "I love you," he confessed.

"I love you too," Patrick said honestly.