peterick oneshots✿

3; Bright ass pink sissy knife. (F)

"I guess from now on I'll make you not wear any socks in bed then." Pete smirked cockily as Patrick climbed back into the bed, and curled around the younger of the two, Patrick the little spoon.

"Guess I won't cuddle you anymore." Patrick said, curling into a ball and wrapping his hands in the blanket that Pete tossed back over them.

"You and I both know that's a lie." Pete said softly, wrapping his arm around Patrick's torso and pulling the slightly shorter one closer to him. Patrick took his hands that were curled up in the blanket and put them under his chin.

"It's sad that you know me so well that I can't even threaten you." Patrick whispered, closing his eyes.

"Hmm," Pete responded, softly kissing the back of Patrick's neck softly. "I know you would never hurt me like that."

Patrick smiled softly. "Maybe I would."

"Oh please, with what, Patrick? You can't even hurt a fly." Patrick then drew his elbow back fast, hitting Pete in the chest. Pete pulled away from Patrick's neck with a sharp breath and huffed out, "Okay fuck, you can hurt me."

Patrick smiled proudly to himself, moving backwards and cuddling closer to Pete. "Don't underestimate me, Wentz."

"Never will anymore, Stump."

Patrick hummed back in response, already going back to sleep. They were back into a spooning position, Pete spooning Patrick. His arm wrapped around, hand resting on Patrick's stomach. Pete - though this seemed creepy as hell, it happened every time they cuddled - watched as Patrick's breath leveled out, and sleep overtook the younger one. Pete barely ever slept, and when Patrick was with him it was a mix of he could sleep almost instantly and he couldn't sleep at all.

Too busy thinking about how much he's grateful to have Patrick in his life, Pete stayed up, watching Patrick's steady breath.

Pete knew Patrick wouldn't hear if he started talking, so he talked to the sleeping Patrick.

"You know, Pat, you're really talented." Pete's eyes closed, imagining a smiling and blushing Patrick as he said the compliments that were completely true. "You pick up an instrument and know how to play it in 30 minutes. I can only play the bass." Pete sighed. "The guitar, the drums, the trumpet, and you can sing super well. You're like," Pete paused, shifting slightly. "You're like a 500-threat. You're so talented. Even though you don't see it, I do. I do and I'm so happy that you joined this band."

Fuck it, confess everything, Pete.

"Also, you're so kind and loving and passionate and you're so precious, I love you."

That was the first time Pete's said that truthfully to anyone outside of his family.

"You're so beautiful and I, a bisexual male, know about beautiful. You have a few feminine features, but they work for you. Like... like your lips, they look so soft, and your Cupid's bow is so pretty..." Pete closed his eyes tighter, imaging Patrick in daylight, not at night like how he was currently. "Your eyes are also soft and mother-like. You also got mother-baring hips. And fuck, dude-" Pete breathed in sharply. "Your fucking thighs, they're so gorgeous." He then moved his hand like how a jelly fish swims, softly on Patrick's stomach. "You're so soft and adorable and you probably don't see it but I do. You have to be my favorite person outside of my family."

He was now ranting softly.

Did he care?

No.

"You just understand me and listen to me and support me and I'm so fucking grateful. I'm so happy to know you. I've never met anyone like you and I don't know how my life would be without you, Patrick."

He heard a sniffle and a soft, "Pete..."

Pete's eyes shot open to see Patrick staring at him, tears rolling down his face.

"You heard that...?"

"Is it true? You- you love me?" Patrick asked, twisting his body so he was looking at Pete comfortably.

Why lie now?

"Yeah, I do actually." Pete confessed, and Patrick smiled wide.

"Oh Pete..." He jumped on Pete, the older now laying on his back as a clothed Patrick laid on him. Patrick was holding onto Pete tight, tighter then anything he's ever held. "Pete was all of that true? Do my lips actually look soft?" He looked up at Pete and Pete looked down, his hands resting on Patrick's back.

"Yeah, actually they do."

"Wanna test out if they're soft or not?" Pete, confused, raised his left hand off of Patrick's back and Patrick's right hand caught it. "Preferably with your lips, Pete."

"Oh, you want me to...?" He didn't have to finish it, he knew Patrick knew. Patrick nodded, teeth catching his lips.

"Yeah..."

"Won't take up that offer." Pete said, leaning his head closer to Patrick's, capturing the soft lips in his own.

When Pete started kissing, Patrick started kissing back. Nothing heated though, unless you count the cliché fireworks going off. Pete's hands rested on either side of Patrick's face.

Patrick pulled away. "Pete?"

"Yeah?" Pete said, his eyes probably really dilated, his lips probably also swollen, looking somewhat like Patrick. And he's okay with that, because Patrick looked so good right now.

"I love you too."