Just Once - A Peterick Fic

Chapter 32

        I was with Joe in his and Andy's dressing room, and Andy was in Pete and I's with my boyfriend. Basically, Andy and I had just switched for a while because Pete and I both needed someone to talk to about each other.

        It felt like we were falling apart again, all because I'd been a drunken idiot, and that scared me like few other things. I didn't know what I'd do if I lost Pete, but I wasn't sure I deserved him at this point. He deserved better, that much was clear. Better as in someone who wouldn't hallucinate and think Gabe Saporta was him.

        "What did you even do?" Joe asked me after a bit of silence. We had walked in, sat down in chairs opposite each other, and remained in silent thought until just then. He obviously didn't want to beat around the bush, just get to it, and maybe that was for the best. It was less likely that I wouldn't give him a straight answer, I guess.

        "I think who did I do would be a more appropriate question," I admitted with a sick laugh, as if the thought didn't actually physically disgust me. Just saying it aloud made me want to vomit in hopes of the 'evil' leaving my body in the convulsion.

        When I glanced up to gauge Joe's reaction, his eyes were wide in horror, both amazed and disgusted that I would do such a thing. Me too, Joe. Me too.

        "It was New Year's Eve and I was well beyond drunk. I honestly thought it was Pete when he pushed me down and as soon as I realized it wasn't, I shoved him off of me, but too much had already happened," I told him, the words coming out too quickly and too messy. I could feel myself growing hysterical very fast and I wasn't a fan of the feeling, tears welling in my eyes. "H-his hands were - they were on me and I've felt so dirty e-ever since. I-it's like I-I can't g-get c-c-clean."

        Then the tears came pouring down and Joe was kneeling in front of me, his arms wrapped around my form as my body shook, the sobs coming all too quickly. I hadn't expected to cry - I really hadn't - but I couldn't seem to help myself, regret flooding me in a crushing wave. I had hurt Gabe, I had hurt myself, and, worst of all, I had hurt Pete, the man I love, and it was all because Jon had kept handing me drinks and I had kept downing them.

        "Who was he?" Joe asked after my sobs had slowed to the point where he knew I could talk again. God, did I not want to say his name, didn't want to even think about it, let alone talk about it. This was tearing me up more than it probably should have, and I was ashamed of myself for my reaction, but more so of the fact that I'd ever done it in the first place.

        I shook my head, not wanting to say his name aloud, and kept my head down, pointed at the ground. My elbows were on my knees and my hands held my head between them, gaze trained downward in shame. This was probably the single biggest mistake I'd ever made.

        "Patrick, who was it?" Joe asked, more force to his words this time. He wasn't going to let me not tell him, that wasn't an option, and his tone communicated that much to me.

        "Gabe," I whispered without looking up, the words barely audible as they left my mouth. His name felt dirty in my mouth and I thought I could feel bile rising in my throat, but that was probably just in my head. This isn't going to actually make me physically sick because that's a crazy idea.

        "I can't hear you," he told me, returning to a soft tone, gentle. I thought I was sweating now, but that was crazy too. I wouldn't have an actual, physical reaction to something like this, to remembering events, but the sour taste in my throat seemed to grow stronger and I couldn't ignore it much longer.

        "Gabe Saporta," I told him again, this time my tone just below a normal volume, but as soon as the name left my mouth, the bile rose in my throat and it didn't seem quite so imaginary anymore. I ran to the trash can, kneeling in front of it before I vomited all over a couple of beer bottles and Kleenexes. I really was a truly disgusting human being, wasn't I? My entire being recognized that, and I wished I could've thrown up all my mistakes along with everything in my stomach.

        "Patrick, are you okay?" Joe asked, his tone panicked as he stood up, unsure of whether or not to come closer to me. He was concerned about me, didn't even seem disgusted that I'd cheated on Pete and I didn't know why.

        I nodded, lifting my head from the can and sitting on the floor by it a moment. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I told him, the statement not even believable to my own ears. Nothing about this situation was fine, that much was obvious. And then it hit me and I seemed to break, shaking my head as tears began falling. "No, I'm not okay."

        Joe immediately came over to me, picked me up, and set me down in the chair so I was basically lying down, my head and legs over the arm rests. He stayed silent while I cried it out and I was grateful. If I had tried to talk in that moment, I would've only cried harder.

        But soon enough, I began speaking, volunteering information without a prompt from Joe at all. He hadn't spoken since he'd asked if I was okay and that worked, he just sat there and listened. Sometimes it was nice to have someone who just listened and did nothing more.

        "Pete and I were doing so well. We were so happy, but then there was that New Year's Eve party at your house and we all got wasted, only I was wasted enough, or maybe I was on something else, I don't know, but I was wasted enough that I didn't realize Gabe wasn't Pete until my pants were around my ankles and his hand was in my boxers. I legitimately thought he was Pete until the moment he began kissing down my body, and that was when I kicked him off the bed," I started, finally telling someone the full story. That was the first time I'd spoken about it and it felt good to say, to let go of it almost. I was afraid speaking it would make it seem all too real, but it had only seemed to take some of the weight off my shoulders. Some.

        I continued, hoping the more I spoke, the more weight that would be taken off. "And I never wanted to hurt Pete but that's what I've done because I can't act normal anytime Gabe or Cobra Starship is brought up. And he talks about them all the time because they've been sending him a shitload of demos and now we're on tour with them so I can't escape it," I told Joe, rambling half coherently now. "But before New Year's, we'd been doing so well together, we were healthy, we were good, but then I did that and I think how great we were before only makes this whole thing worse because I ruined it for the both of us. I had to go and fuck it up.

        "We were even good for a few days after, before he started figuring things out, and we only seemed to stop deteriorating once since then, for one day when we both silently agreed to completely forget about all of it. Valentine's Day we felt back to normal, and he took me out to an early dinner that night, which made no sense at first," I told him, smiling ever so slightly at the memory, "But afterwards, he showed me tickets to a show in the same venue where we first played on stage together. I don't even remember what bands were playing because that wasn't the important part, but we seemed happy together again like we were before New Years."

        I glanced over at Joe and he was smiling as I spoke, listening intently. I was glad to be reciting a happy memory now, rather than talking about our deterioration. "No one even recognized us the whole night. We could've been anyone, and it was perfect in every way. Pete and I stood at the back and talked through the whole thing, hardly paying any attention to the bands on stage. They were shit anyway, like most the bands that play there, but I was happy just spending time with him like we weren't falling apart."

        Then a knock sounded on the door, cutting off my monologue, and Andy's voice came from the other side, identifying himself before Joe told him he could come in. If he saw my red rimmed eyes and tear stained face, he chose to ignore it because I didn't get a pity glance and I was grateful for it.

        "Hey Patrick, Pete's not in there if you want to go ahead and get ready for the show tonight," he offered, and I was appreciative of the opportunity. Avoiding Pete really didn't sound like a bad idea at the moment.

        A/N: To everyone who's found me on twitter lately and told me how much they love this story, thank you so much that rly means a lot. <3