Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

58. Bad Day

Super fluffy. Can be any era.

Pete heard the front door open a few minutes before six thirty. "Perfect timing," he called over his shoulder, not looking up from the pork tenderloin he was seasoning. "Diner's going to be ready in about thirty minutes."

The next thing Pete knew, arms were wrapping around his waist. Pete turned around, and Patrick buried his face in Pete's neck.

"Babe, I've been working with raw meat, I can't really hug you back right now," Pete said with a small laugh.

"It's fine," Patrick murmured, not lifting his face.

Pete paused. That didn't sound good. He kissed the top of Patrick's head, then rested his chin on top of him. "Everything alright?"

"Long day."

"Bad?"

Patrick shrugged, lifting his head and locking eyes with Pete. "Not really. Just didn't feel like dealing with all the people I had to deal with today." Patrick rolled his eyes. "There was this one man who insisted he was singing the right notes when I know for a fact he was an octave lower than he should've been. It took twenty minutes for me to convince him I was right, Pete. Twenty minutes!"

Pete kissed his nose. "I'm sorry. It always sucks when people hire you and don't want to listen to your input."

"Especially when you know more than them," Patrick said.

Pete nodded, getting a good look at Patrick as he did. "Tired?"

Patrick sighed. "God, am I."

"How about this: you get comfy while I finish cooking, and we can go to bed early tonight. We'll probably be finished eating by eight, and we can get ready for bed after."

Patrick hummed and closed his eyes. "Yeah, getting over twelve hours of sleep sounds really good right now." He opened his eyes and smiled at Pete, then gave him a quick kiss. "I'm gonna go get changed."

Pete listened to Patrick's rant about his day for as long as he needed, then he began telling jokes and talking about ridiculous stories he'd read on the internet to make Patrick smile. It worked, and by the end of their meal he could tell Patrick was a littler happier.

They cleaned off the table and put their dishes in the dishwasher when they were done. Pete turned to Patrick and pulled him into a hug.

"Ready to go to bed?" Pete asked.

"Fuck yeah," Patrick said, relief coloring his tone.

They went to their bedroom and started undressing. Patrick stripped down to his boxers and put on a softer t-shirt, while Pete opted out of a shirt and put on a pair of sweatpants. Patrick sat down on the bed, back against their headboard, and Pete sat next to him.

Pete leaned in and kissed Patrick's cheek. "Want to cuddle?" he asked softly.

Patrick smiled and nodded. "Spoon me?"

"You got it." Pete turned off the lamp on his side of the bed. He lifted the covers and both he and Patrick settled underneath them.

Patrick pressed his back to Pete's chest, and Pete could feel the tension in his shoulders. Pete wrapped an arm around Patrick's waist and placed his other hand on Patrick's side, massaging gently. He planted little kisses along the side of Patrick's neck and down to the place where his neck met his shoulder. Patrick shifted his legs until they were entangled with Pete's.

Little by little, Pete could feel Patrick relax against him.

"Night, Trick," Pete whispered, giving the back of his neck one more kiss.

"Good night, Pete. I love you."

"I love you too."