Can't You Save Me?

•18•

Once the sun finally comes up, Patrick wakes to find that Pete is missing. The bed is cold and empty and Patrick just wants the warmth back. But he soon realized that the bathroom was occupied and there was water running, specifically the shower. Man, a shower sounded amazing right about now.

Patrick tangles himself up in the blanket and takes a deep breath, inhaling nothing but the faint scent of Pete. It's sweet and intoxicating and if Patrick was a drug addict he'd be itching to breathe it in 24/7.

Some ten minutes later, Pete emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of black skinny jeans and the purple sneakers he wore the other day, drying his hair with a white towel. Patrick does his best to resist the urge to roll over and ogle the tattooed man like some crazed sexual predator. In fact, he squeezes his eyes shut and thinks about anything other than Pete or the designs of ink that cover his body.

Once Pete is satisfied with the dryness of his hair, he removes the towel from his head and places it around his neck. He cards his fingers through his hair and there's instantly some resistance. Damn, he should've brought his straightener with him, but maybe it's not so bad. It'll be a little more difficult to recognize him if his hair is in its natural state so he's not complaining too much.

He glances up and sees the little lump known as Patrick rolled up in the blanket, facing away, his hair spilling out at the top. Pete smiles to himself at the sight.

He goes over to Patrick's side and squats down beside the bed. He knows Patrick isn't asleep because normally he spreads out and lightly snores. Pete curls his fingers around the blanket and pulls it down, revealing Patrick's bright blue eyes and nothing else.

"Hey, Patrick." Pete smiles.

"Hi, Pete." Patrick responds, his voice muffled from behind the ugly patterned material.

"Feeling okay?" Pete asks then Patrick makes a sound that Pete guesses is supposed to mean 'yes'. "Any nightmares?"

Patrick shakes his head. Surprisingly he's had none, maybe having Pete so close to him last night helped to keep Vaughn away. But next time Patrick might not be so lucky, whether Pete is beside him or not. Though, he's a little less afraid of falling asleep now. He feels like Pete can actually protect him and keep the evil voice at bay. Pete makes him feel a bit safer.

"Good, that's great!" Pete says happily. "So, what do you want for dinner?"

Patrick furrows his brow in slight confusion then pokes his head out from the blanket the rest of the way. "Dinner? What time is it?"

"Uh," Pete holds up his wrist and glances at his watch to round off the time. How long has he had that thing? Patrick's never it noticed before. "Four thirty," He chuckles. "Dude, it's closer to dinner time than anything else."

Patrick's been asleep for over twelve hours, he had no idea he'd been out for that long. Patrick hasn't slept like that in years.

Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, pizza? Burg-"

"Pizza sounds good." Pete interrupts, beaming with wide eyes and Patrick can't help but smile at that. He must really like pizza.

"Pizza it is then." Then Patrick glances up at Pete's messy, dark hair. It sticks up in thick little curled tufts and looks soft enough to sleep on. The boy reaches up and puts his whole hand in it, feeling as the hair tickles the webbing between his fingers and brush across the pads of each digit. And he was right, it was soft.

He takes his eyes away from Pete's hair and draws his attention to Pete's face instead. His eyes are closed and he sighs contentedly, if he were a cat he'd be purring right about now.