Saturday // Peterick Oneshots

72.5 Bloodied and Bruised: Part 2

Sequel requested by hidden_traveler. Pre-TTTYG era. Takes place about a week later. More fluffy goodness.

Pete tries really hard not to pick at his knuckles. Really, he does— it's just that they've scabbed over and they itch to high hell and it's very tempting to poke and prod at the fresh skin when he's anxious. He shouldn't be anxious after such a great show, but his leg won't stop bouncing and the beer in front of him is doing nothing to calm his nerves.

He hasn't seen Patrick in twenty minutes.

Now, this could be nothing. Patrick could be in the bathroom, or in a broom closet, with a girl from the audience. Pete doesn't like that idea, but it is possible. Patrick could also be in the bathroom puking up one too many drinks.

Pete is trying hard not to spiral into a full-blown panic. He doesn't know where this protective instinct came from, only that its pull became much, much stronger after Patrick took the time to bandage Pete's knuckles in their motel bathroom. And fuck, after the way his heart pounded when Patrick kissed his cheek with those warm, soft lips, he doesn't think that feeling will ever go away.

It's not that he thinks Patrick can't handle himself. It's that the world is a scary place, and he's still fairly young, and Pete doesn't want him to face the ugliest parts all alone.

Pete does another scan of the bar, then downs the rest of his beer and stands up. He tracks down Andy and Joe, who tell him that they haven't seen Patrick in a while either. Andy reminds him not to start any fights, and Pete flips him off. He makes his way outside, hoping some fresh air will help him calm down.

He finds Patrick in the alley next to the bar, in the midst of a heated argument with another man. Pete keeps his distance, he doesn't want to be overbearing, but he keeps a watchful eye on them.

He's glad he did, because a minute later Patrick pushes at the man's shoulder, and in retaliation the man shoves Patrick against the wall. Pete can see the moment Patrick's head hits the brick, and that's when he acts.

"Hey! Get off of him!" he screams. The man looks Pete's way, then lets go of Patrick and goes back inside the bar through a side door.

Pete rushes over to Patrick. "Are you okay?"

"I think so." Patrick rubs the back of his head and freezes. "Um, maybe not." His hand comes away bloody.

Pete's blood runs cold. "Oh fuck."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Andy gives Patrick a check-up in the bar's bathroom and determines that Patrick isn't concussed, which is good considering none of them have the money to pay for emergency room bills. They leave shortly after, figuring that whatever motel they're staying in tonight will have a cleaner bathroom to perform first aid in.

Once again, Pete finds himself in a bathroom with Patrick and a roll of bandages.

Patrick sits on the edge of the bathtub with his back to Pete. The wound isn't too big, just bloody and sensitive. Patrick winces while Pete cleans the wound and dresses it appropriately. To make up for the pain, Pete leans down and presses a kiss to the top of Patrick's head. "There," he says softly. "All better."

Patrick laughs quietly, and Pete can't help but grin. Patrick turns around and sighs. He looks worn out, and Pete's chest aches. He pulls Patrick into a hug, half expecting Patrick to shrug him off, but Patrick sighs again and presses his cheek to Pete's stomach and lets himself be hugged. "Thanks for looking out for me," Patrick mumbles.

Pete smiles, and his heart warms. "No problem."

"'M tired." Patrick pulls away and stretches. "I'm gonna get ready for bed."

Pete nods. "Sounds like a plan."

Patrick looks particularly cuddly when he comes out of the bathroom dressed in his pajamas, and Pete is tempted to pull him into another warm hug, just to see if he's as soft as he looks. He refrains though, and changes into his own pajamas.

When he comes out of the bathroom, Patrick is already asleep. He's curled up under the blankets of his bed, a picture of peacefulness and sweetness. Pete feels another wave of protectiveness wash over him at the sight. He walks over to the bed and squeezes Patrick's shoulder. Then he bends down and presses a lingering kiss to Patrick's temple. "Good night, Patrick," he whispers.

Pete lays down in his own bed. He's exhausted himself, and it doesn't take long for him to be on the verge of falling asleep. But just before he does, Pete hears a soft whisper from the other bed.

"Good night, Pete."