Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

59. Photo-proof Kisses

"G.I.N.A.S.F.S." is a very underrated Peterick anthem and I think about it all the goddamn time. IOH era.

Patrick is going to have a heart attack at the ripe old age of twenty-three and it's going to be because of Pete fucking Wentz.

Patrick had had...suspicions before. He reads Pete's innermost thoughts in the form of song lyrics, and that give you a lot of insight into a person's brain. Some of it made Patrick's heart ache with the need to remind Pete of everything good, some of it made him angry towards the people who dared leave so much as a scratch on Pete's heart, and some of it...well.

Most of the time it's only a snippet that gives Patrick pause. But this...Jesus Christ, it's like a whole novel.

"I know I'm supposed to love you"? What the fuck is he playing at?

Patrick sits at his desk in his pajamas and stares at Pete's notebook in front of him. It's nine o' clock at night, not too late, so Pete's definitely awake. He could call him. He could also burn a hole staring into the page in front of him.

"Some nights it gets so bad I almost pick up the phone"

God fucking damn it.

Patrick closes the notebook. He gets up and goes to his kitchen, deciding to put on a pot of coffee.

He wants to talk to Pete. He doesn't know what the hell to say, but he wants to say it. 

It's not like he's never thought of Pete that way. There are times when Pete smiles, eyes bright and crinkling at the corner, where he looks so joyful that Patrick thinks about leaning in and tasting that happiness for himself. Patrick fumes after Pete's bad break ups, thinking over and over how ridiculous it was, how much better he could treat Pete than that scumbag. When Pete's sad or anxious, all Patrick wants to do is take his hands and kiss everything that hurts until Pete feels okay again.

He never thought to act on his feelings. He and Pete are joined at the hip, but all too often Pete would leave his side to fuck random people he picked up at bars and after shows, so he figured he should stay quiet.

But now? With this fucking love letter in front of him?

Patrick makes himself his cup of coffee and goes back to his room. He drinks half his coffee, gets dressed, drinks the other half, then grabs his phone off his desk. He leaves the notebook; the words are already engraved in his memory.

Patrick sends Pete a text before he starts his car. He doesn't say why, just that he's coming over.

Pete opens the door immediately. Patrick pulls him in for a hug.

"Hey," Pete says, hugging Patrick back instantly. Patrick can feel Pete's heartbeat in his chest. "So what brings you?"

Patrick lets go and steps back. "I wanted to talk to you about the lyrics you gave me."

There's a flash of fear in Pete's eyes. Patrick realizes he's not wearing eyeliner, and for some reason it makes him feel better. Pete doesn't say anything in response, he nods and steps back inside, then closes the door behind Patrick.

They sit down on Pete's couch. Patrick sits close enough that their legs touch.

Patrick takes a deep breath. "You know, I really liked them," he begins with a soft voice.

Pete stares at him. "Okay..."

"There's a page that stuck out to me, though."

"Really," Pete says, in a neutral tone.

"Pete." Patrick sighs, grabbing his hand. "Relax, okay? I'm not here to lecture you or anything like that."

Pete swallows. "You know, don't you?" he whispers.

Patrick nods.

"Fuck." Pete leans forward and buries his face in his hand. "It was 'Gay is Not a Synonym for Shitty,' wasn't it?" Patrick doesn't have a chance to answer, because then Pete says, "God, I'm so fucking stupid."

"Pete, relax," Patrick says again. He shifts closer and puts his other hand on Pete's shoulder blade. "I'm not mad, I'm- it's okay. I'm okay with it."

Pete lifts his head. "You're okay with it," he says slowly.

"Yeah. I mean, I kind of feel the same way." Patrick gives him a nervous smile and squeezes his shoulder.

Pete sits up a little straighter. "What?"

Patrick nods. "Yeah, Pete." He pauses. "'I loved everything about you that hurts,'" he quotes.

Pete blinks. "Patrick..." He glances at the floor, then fixes Patrick with a serious look. Patrick can see a spark of hope in his eyes, but it's carefully guarded. "If you don't want this, tell me now."

"I want this," Patrick says. "Just, you know. Go slow."

"Yeah, got it," Pete whispers, nodding. He lifts his hand, fingertips brushing Patrick's cheek. "Would it be going too fast if I kissed you?"

Patrick blushes and shakes his head. "No, that would be okay."

Pete grins beautifully and cups Patrick's cheek.

Patrick doesn't know what he expected, but for all the times he's imagined kissing Pete he never imagined it would be this gentle. Pete's mouth is warm and skilled, and he can taste coffee on Pete's lips.

"Wow." Pete says when they pull away. His thumb is stroking Patrick's cheekbone, and Patrick leans into his hand at the feeling. "Can I pull you closer?" Pete asks.

Patrick laughs a little. "Yeah, that's okay. Just no sex. Not tonight."

Pete nods. "I can handle that." He puts his hands on Patrick's hips and tugs him closer. "Lift up a little," Pete says, and Patrick finds himself sitting in Pete's lap a moment later.

"Good?" Patrick asks, draping his arms over Pete's shoulders. Pete's warm and firm beneath him. Patrick can feel Pete's fingers pressing gently into his lower back, and he loves it.

Pete smiles up at him like a kid on Christmas morning. "Perfect."

"I'm going to make it a song, you know," Patrick says between kisses.

Pete hums against his mouth. "I hope you do. Can't wait to listen to it." He gives Patrick another long kiss. "Stay the night?"

"Hell yes," Patrick says, grinning.

They don't move from the couch for another hour; they're too busy making out.