Pete loved to sleep with the window cracked. Said, at first, that it "brings in the good air", but he soon needed chilly air to fall asleep. It calmed him, in all honesty. He hated sleeping while warm. But Patrick, on the other hand, loved sleeping warm. And Pete, even though he slept in the winter in only boxers usually, was warm.
So of course, Patrick cuddled up to Pete often. Tonight, Patrick sported a t-shirt hidden behind Pete's hoodie, and long pants hugging his legs. He had to wear the long layers due to sleeping and cuddling Pete and the open window. Patrick does hate the cold, but Pete's a good cuddler and the cuddles compensate for the cold.
How they cuddled would change. Sometimes they'd spoon, the little spoon and the big spoon interchanging. Other times Patrick would lay on Pete, head resting on the tan guys chest, his thick legs between the others. Sometimes, Patrick was half on top of Pete. Sometimes it was like tonight.
Pete was laying on his left side, his left arm tucked under his head, his temple touching his elbow just slightly. His knees were brought up slightly and his right hand on Patrick's back. Pete was looking down at Patrick, who was sleeping soundly.
Patrick was curled up on his right side, eager to stay warm under the blanket. Patrick's hands were in small fists, right in front of his chest, oeroed between him and Pete. His knees were tucked up and between him and Pete too, but his head was stuck in between Pete's collar bones. Pete could feel Patrick's soft warm breath fanning over his chest every time the dirty blond exhaled though parted lips.
Patrick then mumbled softly, moving his head up and furrowed his eyebrows. The beginning of a nightmare. Pete carded his hands through Patrick's hair and the young one shifted, breathing in deeply and exhaled loudly.
"Please..." Pete whispered and Patrick's hands gripped into a tighter first, cuddling closer to Pete. "Please, Patrick don't-"
"No, stop-" Patrick choked out, shifting again, his legs going straight. "I don't," He then started crying out, words and phrases so random that were barely inaudible.
"Patrick, hey- Lunchbox-" Pete cooed, running his hand up and down Patrick's back soothingly. "Martin it's okay-"
"Please don't hurt me," Patrick huffed, sobbing into Pete's chest.
"Patrick please wake up, Patrick-" Pete whispered, hugging Patrick close. Patrick's breathing was heavy and fast. "Patrick please you're scaring me," Pete sighed, watching Patrick's knuckles go white from holding onto his own hand too hard.
"No!" Patrick screamed, his eyes shot open and he scrambled off the bed, his ass hitting the floor with a loud thud. Pete sighed and closed his eyes then opened them, looking over the edge of the bed and seeing Patrick on his back, looking up at the ceiling.
"How bad did it get this time?" Pete raised an eyebrow at Patrick, and Patrick looked at him.
"They had a knife, but like a bright ass pink sissy knife." Patrick sighed heavily, shuffling to his feet, rubbing all the stuff off his ass. "They almost stabbed me." He looked at Pete, who just averted his eyes from Patrick's ass and to his face.
"Come back into bed, Lunchbox." Pete smiled, rolling over and opening his arms. Patrick grumbled.
"Okay but I'm not joining you because I'm like, scared or anything- I'm not scared - or because I want to cuddle you-" Patrick was breathing hot breaths into his already chilly hands. "Because I don't wanna cuddle you..." Another hot breath into his hand. "It's because I'm cold and wearing no socks."
"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."