Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 29

        January 1, 2009, I woke up on Joe's couch, Pete lying halfway on top of me. Oh god. I remembered very little of the night before, only that it had been pretty well insane and full of lots of alcohol. I glanced around the room, seeing that Frank, Brendon and Gabe were still here also - Gabe. When my eyes passed over him, I couldn't help but remember what we'd done and feel unbelievably guilty. Considering how drunk I was at the time, it was amazing I remembered it at all.

        I shook my head as if to clear my thoughts, working my way out from underneath Pete and stretching. I needed to wake him up so we could get home but my head was pounding and I had a feeling I should be thankful the curtains were closed.

        I leaned back down, shaking Pete in an attempt to bring him to consciousness, but that didn't work, of course. A passed out drunk can't simply be shaken awake. Figures.

        Since I had no idea where to find a bucket, I headed to the kitchen and raided Joe's cabinets for a glass, filling it with cold tap water. This was how they always did it in movies, right? It had to work, then. I took a deep breath, readying myself for the screaming that would probably come out of this oh so brilliant idea of mine. When I did it, I immediately stumbled a few steps backwards, ready for him to spring up, and that's exactly what he did, jumping up and yelling something unintelligible.

        "Oh god, stop yelling," I told him in a whisper, holding my head. I definitely drank too much last night.

        "Dude, what was that for?" he asked, his tone down just below a normal volume. His yelling was probably hurting his head too. Fortunately enough though, it did not wake the other three men in the room. I so did not want to face Gabe right now and I luckily didn't have to because he stayed passed out, draped over the coffee table that had somehow ended up in the corner.

        "I needed to wake you up," I told him sheepishly, a smile of the same nature curving my lips. He had a right to be a little angry though. His black hair was dripping wet, plastered to his forehead, and the eyeliner he'd had on was now running down his cheeks. Should've bought the waterproof kind, Pete.

        He just shook his head which caused water droplets to fly everywhere. One hit the lens of my glasses and it sat there in the corner of my vision, like a small spot that was out of focus in a photograph for some reason.

        "C'mon, let's go home," I told him, grabbing his arm and leading him towards Joe's front door. He didn't protest, just followed. In all honesty, neither of us should probably be driving. We both still had alcohol in our system if I had to guess, but I decided I would drive anyway.

        When I opened the door, the light burned my eyes and I shielded myself from it as if I were a vampire. I glanced back at Pete and saw he was doing something very similar as we made our way to the car. How awful would it be if some paparazzi stumbled upon us and got a photo of this.

        We eventually made it to my car and the tinted windows helped a little, but not a lot. I kept a pair of sunglasses in the center console thankfully, and slipped those on so I could see to drive.

~~~~~~~

        Most of that day was spent feeling a little sick and a lot hungover. Pete and I laid in bed and watched a couple movies with the sound almost all the way down, both of us drifting in and out of sleep all day. I was curled up against him, the blankets pulled up over us and his arm wrapped around me to hold me close.

        Each time I fell asleep though, I dreamed not of Pete, but of Gabe and the guilt was eating away at me. I knew I should tell Pete - he had a right to know - but I almost thought it'd be better not to. Maybe Gabe and I could keep this our little secret and forget about it entirely. I'd love to put it behind us because Gabe is a good friend of mine and I couldn't imagine living without Pete.

        The next time Pete drifted off to sleep, I set my phone to silent and shot a text to Gabe.

        >Hey, we need to talk.

        I set my phone down on my chest and half-heartedly watched the movie as I waited for a reply. It was some movie about a writer with a green scarf, but I wasn't getting too much of it because 1) I'd already slept through a good portion of it and 2) the sound was down so low it was barely audible. Before long, it vibrated on my chest, letting me know I had a text and saving me from the chick flick.

        >Gay-be: Yeah, I was kinda hoping you wouldn't remember all that actually.

        >I was hoping I wouldn't remember it too

        >Gay-be: So what do you say we just forget about it? Pretend we /don't/ remember?

        When I read that, it was as if a weight was lifted from my chest. We were on the same page and that had just made things a million times easier.

        >Sounds great. This convo went a lot smoother than I thought it would.

        >Gay-be: Same here. I'll ttyl

        I couldn't shake the feeling that that had gone way too smoothly, but that was probably just me being paranoid so I shook it off.

        Before long, Pete woke back up and groaned, turning himself over and burying his face in his pillow like he didn't want to face the reality that he was awake. I sympathized with him. Being awake didn't sound like a real great idea to me either.

        "Pete?" I asked, amusement evident in my voice. I felt guilty about not telling him, but I didn't want to hurt him and if he found out, he'd be hurt. Hurting Pete was really the last thing I wanted to do.

        "Yeah?" he asked, his voice extremely muffled and distorted due to the pillow his face was planted in.

        "Are you okay?"

        "My head hurts."

        At that, I laughed because mine did too and had all day. We'd both taken Tylenol when we got home, but that had obviously worn off by now because mine was pounding once again too. "I feel you, babe," I told him, shaking my head slightly at him as if in amazement.

        He just groaned again, still face down and that's when I decided to crawl out of bed and to the bathroom in search of more Tylenol for both of us. His headache was getting the best of him and I wasn't sure I could take mine much longer either. This hangover was awful enough that I almost decided that I maybe needed to run dry.

        A/N: So Uma Thurman is amazing that is not up for debate

        Just felt like sharing with you guys that through the majority of this chapter, I just kept thinking about The Offspring's The Worst Hangover Ever. If you've never heard it, give it a listen. Actually, give their entire Splinter album a listen. Or their entire discography bc they're gr9. Of course I couldn't help but think of Patrick's Run Dry (X Heart X Fingers) too but y'know.

        Also, here's my shameless self promo. I've got a new Frerard one shot out called Earbuds so go check that out and make my day. One of my new year's resolutions was to write more so that one shot, on time updates for this, and another Peterick one shot that I don't have quite done yet are the results of me actually keeping that resolution so far.

        Sorry for the long author's note but thanks for reading it. ily all!!!