It's cozy and dark under the blankets where the boy sleeps. The whirring of a small fan in the corner of his room is the only noise, and his gentle breathing is becoming deeper and deeper as the seconds pass by, barely noticeable. With each breath he's getting closer and closer to dreamland. He sighs in contentment, snuggling further into his blankets. He can't even remember the last time he got a proper night's sleep that wasn't disturbed by the bus hitting bumps on the road or one of the guys being too loud. But tonight, the boy feels like he can finally do it, like he can finally fall asleep without interruption-
Zzzp! The vibration of Patrick's cell phone against his nightstand spurs him awake, and he's so livid he grips it tightly in his hand, ready to throw it across the room, before he realizes the consequences of doing so and decides against it. He rubs his forehead in exasperation before answering the phone.
"Hello," Patrick mutters in a snippy tone. He tries to calm down but it's hard when all of his coping mechanisms had flown out the window days ago.
"Hey," a raspy voice scratches through the receiver. Instantly, Patrick's anger dissolves into concern.
"Pete? Are you alright?" Patrick asks. He sits up in his bed, the nest of blankets he was previously in forgotten.
"What do you think happens after we die, 'Trick?" Pete questions, ignoring Patrick's previous inquiry. Patrick is confused, but Pete is always cryptic so he's used to it by now.
Patrick thinks for a few moments, and Pete lets him, his faint breathing on the other line the only noise.
When Patrick comes up with his answer, he makes sure to formulate it carefully. "I think that we go. We leave our bodies. Our soul detaches and goes somewhere, though I don't know exactly where yet. All I know is that there's too much energy in the world around us for it to just die out when our bodies do. Energy never goes away, it just changes forms. But I don't think it can be forced. You have to let nature take its course. If you don't let it happen by itself, your energy won't go where it's supposed to be. Does that make sense?" Patrick is feeling self-conscious now, having put such a personal thought out into the air.
"What's your favorite color and why?" Pete asks, as if Patrick had never said anything. Patrick is relieved but at the same time disappointed and confused. He's trying to figure out what's wrong with Pete, and he thought that by listening to him talk a little, Pete would open up. That isn't the case. Patrick decides to play along and humor Pete, even though he's worried.
"Orange, because I like sunsets."
"Do you miss me?" Pete's next question leaves Patrick confused, and he wants to ask Pete what he means. But Pete would just answer, "never mind" and Patrick wants to figure out what's wrong, so he thinks about it. Of course he misses the guys. He misses going on tour and all of the sweaty hugs and the crowds screaming their names, shouting their lyrics, jumping in time to the beat of their music.
But that isn't Pete's question. Pete wants to know if Patrick misses him personally. And of course Patrick does. Pete is his best friend, but it's been months since they've seen each other in person. Patrick's had some short phone calls with him, a few Skype calls, and a text or two here and there, but for the most part, since the hiatus, the band's been apart doing their own separate projects. The last time Patrick saw Pete in person was at a Soul Punk show, when Pete sat on a fan's shoulders to see Patrick better, and Patrick saw him waving. After the show, they talked for a few minutes before Patrick had to leave for the next show.
Patrick misses seeing Pete every day. He misses the way Pete flashes him these dazzling smiles and he misses the way Pete would run up to him after a show, his caramel eyes wide with excitement and adrenaline, talking to Patrick about all the things he saw and the way he felt and the pure happiness that was plastered all over him when he performed. He misses the way Pete would call bunking with Patrick because he knew Patrick would stay up with him if he couldn't sleep because of his insomnia.
But most of all, Patrick misses the way Pete always had his back, no matter what. He misses that support and that person to lean on when things got difficult. He misses being able to help Pete out and seeing him smile with resolution after Patrick gave him advice, like he was ready to explode because he just wanted to put the advice to use right now.
"Yeah," Patrick mumbles softly, "I really do." And he thinks it's the truest statement he's said in a long time.
"I'm in town this week, are you?" Pete asks, and he sounds hopeful, smile audible to Patrick through the phone, and it causes Patrick to smile in return.
"Actually yeah, I'm visiting my parents." Patrick is so happy, so excited to see Pete again, catch up and maybe drink a beer and bond a bit, get back to just being Pat and Pete.
"Wanna come over? I'm still at the same place, if you want to," Pete invites, and then the line goes dead and Patrick's alone again. He checks the alarm clock on his night stand to see that it's almost 3am, and yet, Patrick is too awake to go back to bed now.
He practically bounds out of bed, gets his glasses on and makes sure to brush his teeth. He doesn't know what's going to happen, doesn't care, his only concerns are staying alive and seeing Pete. He pulls on some black jeans and thick socks to keep warm. Then he finds a thick scarf and a cardigan and finds himself smiling the whole way down the stairs into the kitchen. With a little searching through the drawer, he finds his keys and pulls on some black leather boots, and then he's out the door, into the freezing cold January night, uncaring of the shiver that's coursing down his spine because he knows it's not from the cold.
The car ride there is dark, beautiful, and he plays lazy music on the radio, acoustic guitars and pianos. The street flies underneath his car, a dark ocean of asphalt and promises. The trees are comforting, almost creating a barrier between this world and the next, keeping Patrick enveloped in the forgiving nightfall and making sure he's protected. Patrick feels so good, too good right now and he briefly wonders why but dismisses it as he realizes it's because of his destination.
The singer's mind wanders to Pete. He thinks about Pete's eyes the most, the way they tell everything about the guy. Patrick always knew when Pete was having a hard time because his eyes would be clouded over and Patrick would be unable to see the sparkle that was present in Pete's eyes when he was happy, or excited. Patrick has never seen a more wonderful sight than when he wrote a song for Pete's 28th birthday, the day they thought he'd never make it to. The song was easygoing, full of gentle lulls and warm lyrics about how Pete was going to be okay, and by the end of it Pete was crying. Pete never cried so immediately Patrick was worried, but when he looked into Pete's eyes, he saw the sparkle, and something else he didn't quite recognize.
Patrick remembers the way Pete looked at him the time he told him he was bisexual. It was two in the morning, they were both so drunk it was laughable, and Pete was getting touchy-feely with Patrick, which Patrick really didn't mind. Pete was always a contact sort of person, and he required it in order to convey his feelings. Drunk Pete was no different, insisting that Patrick and he sleep on the couch together to keep warm. The musicians had been talking for hours, but now the walls were down and truths started coming out. Neither had a filter anymore and the honesty was tangible.
"I'm glad I broke up with Ashley," Pete admitted, and he snickered, the relief in his voice spreading through Patrick as well.
"Me too, Petey," Patrick smiled, patting Pete on the head and then wrapping his arms just a little bit tighter around the dark-haired boy. Pete sighed in contentment.
"You're really warm," Pete stated, tucking his face into the crook of Patrick's neck. Patrick leaned his head on the other boy's.
"Mmm," Patrick mumbled in contentment, prepared to drift off to sleep soon.
"Sometimes I think you're really cute," Pete had said, tapping Patrick's nose with his pinky finger, laughing at Patrick's blush. Patrick had always thought Pete was cute, too, but he'd never say that.
"I think I'm bi. I'm bisexual. I know I like girls but I think guys are good too. I think I like guys. I think I like guys too, Pete," Patrick stumbled through the sentence, intending it to be serious even though he couldn't stop giggling. Pete smiled up at Patrick from where he was laying in the boy's arms, their legs tangled together. The spark in his eyes was so bright, and Patrick had never seen anything so beautiful.
"I'm really proud. I'm proud of you. I am really happy you're okay, telling me that. Thank you, 'Trick." Pete smiled so bright, so openly, Patrick couldn't help himself when he put a hand up to Pete's face, rubbing his thumb over Pete's cheek. Pete froze for a second in surprise but then leaned into Patrick's touch.
"Sometimes I go commando," Patrick had said, unsure of why he felt the need to tell Pete all of the personal things about him that he didn't even let his past girlfriends know. It was quiet for a moment, and Patrick thought Pete may have drifted off, but then Pete laughed.
He really laughed, hard and loud, a barking laugh that made Patrick cry he started laughing with Pete so hard, and that was when Pete lifted his head and said, "I love you, 'Trick." Patrick stopped laughing and looked at Pete with all of the amazement he had, viewing the bass player as if he was the eighth wonder of the world. Patrick kissed Pete on the cheek sloppily, using lots of spit and making Pete chuckle.
"I love you too, Petey,"Patrick murmured, and the drunken boys fell asleep together.
Patrick smiles at the memory, and then takes the right that leads to Pete's road. His heart is warm and his head is full of excitement, and before he can count to ten, he's pulling into Pete's driveway. His smile gets even bigger if that's possible when he sees Pete, asleep on the two-person swing bench on his front porch. He's bundled up in what looks like two coats, two pairs of gloves, a hat, earmuffs, three scarves, ski pants, and boots. Patrick laughs at the sight in front of him, turning off his car and stepping out quietly, making sure not to disturb the boy.
He gingerly sits on the bench by Pete, and watches his breaths come out in smoky puffs in the freezing air. Patrick idly wonders how long Pete's been sitting here, unable to sleep, and then he wonders when the boy fell asleep. Regardless, Patrick needs to get Pete inside, because it's freezing and Pete's cheeks look flushed. The singer gently wraps an arm around Pete's shoulder and one underneath his knees, lifting him carefully so as not to jostle him too much.
When they get inside, Patrick doesn't even bother taking his shoes off, and instead brings Pete directly upstairs to his bedroom. Somehow Pete's eyes are still closed, and it's almost as if he's subconsciously leaning towards Patrick.
The younger of the two smiles as he sets Pete on his bed, the older boy squirming as Patrick takes his hands off of him. Patrick then realizes how hot Pete must be now, with all of those layers of clothing on.
"Pete," Patrick whispers, and Pete's eyes immediately fly open. Patrick jumps back a bit in surprise. "Have you been awake this whole time?" Patrick questions, the revelation evident in his tone. Pete chuckles, nodding and turning so he can view Patrick more easily.
"Yep, I just like being carried around," Pete grins this big cheeky grin and Patrick can't find the wherewithal to be angry with the dark-haired boy. Instead he laughs, sitting on the edge of Pete's bed and looking at the boy lying before him.
A moment passes before Pete says, "These clothes are suffocating me but I'm way too lazy to take them off now." Patrick snickers as he pulls off his shoes, scarf, and hat, placing them neatly in the corner of Pete's room.
"Pete, you're gonna die if you don't shed the abominable snowman getup," the wheat-haired boy tells him, and Pete thinks he'd be okay with dying as long as Patrick is there.
"Patriiiick," Pete whines, "Do it for meeeee," and Patrick sighs as he turns to comply with Pete's demand. He starts with Pete's boots, carefully untying them and pulling them off. Then he moves to remove Pete's first coat, unbuttoning and unzipping the checkered material.
"You're kinda sexy when you're taking my clothes off," Pete mumbles, and Patrick shoots Pete a glare but starts laughing when he sees Pete's defiant grin.
"Yeah, well you're just lucky I'm in a good mood," Patrick looks up at Pete from where he's working on untying the strings on Pete's second coat, and Patrick sees the sparkle in Pete's eyes, and Patrick feels his own expression change from sarcastic to stupefied. Pete now has a gentle smile on his face, looking down at Patrick with a warm intensity that reminds Patrick of nothing else in the world. For a moment, the world is still, and it's just the two of them, alone together, infinitely. Then Patrick quickly looks back at the strings on Pete's coat and snorts.
"How the hell did you manage to tie this?" Patrick gestures to the knot of a thousand loops on Pete's coat, and the black-haired boy laughs, leaning forward and grabbing the knot himself.
"You're bad at this," Pete says, making a quick process of untying the knot expertly. Patrick watches in fascination. Within thirty seconds, the knot is undone and Pete shucks off both coats, leaving ski pants and a tight t-shirt covering Pete's abdomen.
"Sorry I'm not undressing you to your liking, Your Highness," Patrick mocks, and Pete beams at the nickname.
"That's more like it, my serf," Pete plays along and Patrick rolls his eyes as he undoes the buckles on Pete's ski pants.
"Please tell me you've got pants on underneath these."
Pete contemplates an answer for a moment or two. "Maybe," he decides, and Patrick sighs as he unzips the ski pants, grateful when he sees the material of pajama pants underneath his fingers. Another part of Patrick feels a pang of something, and he's not sure what it is, so he ignores it and ventures on. He pulls off the ski pants and laughs at the pattern on Pete's pants.
"Ducks, really?" The younger boy laughs at his best friend, enjoying being with him again so much. The best part was that there was no awkward greeting, no "how's your life been" or "how are the kids" or any formal small talk. Whenever they met up again, it was like they had never left each other, and that was what Patrick loved the most about Pete.
Pete interrupts Patrick's train of thought with, "Yes, really. You know you like them." Patrick doesn't deny it.
Patrick is leaning over Pete, moving his attention to the scarves wrapped around the boy's neck. Pete's face is about six inches from Patrick's and Patrick looks up to see that look in Pete's eyes again. "It's hard to untie these at this angle," Patrick gestures to the scarves, and Pete hums in agreement. Patrick gets irritated with the angle and then just places one leg over either side of Pete, sitting on the boy's stomach and allowing him easy access. Pete's smile fades and he swallows loudly, and Patrick looks up, confused.
"Are you okay?" He doesn't understand the situation, he's just trying to untie scarves but Pete looks like he's going to be sick or something. Pete just nods, and then encourages Patrick to continue. The younger boy shrugs and goes back to undoing the knots in the material. "Jesus Pete what were you preparing for, the tundra?" Patrick asks, irritated by all of the knots and layers he's had to undo and shed off the older boy.
Pete smirks, shrugs, and says, "I didn't know how long I'd be waiting. I had to be prepared." Something in the tone of Pete's voice stops Patrick, and his eyes remain frozen where his hands were getting out the last knot in scarf two. A pang of guilt shoots through Patrick's chest and suddenly the boy kicks into overdrive, hurriedly pulling off the gloves and the scarves and the earmuffs and the hat, and Pete's surprised, doesn't understand what's going on. When all of the winter wear is removed, Patrick collapses on top of Pete, snaking his arms around Pete's neck and placing his head against the boy's chest.
"I'm sorry, Pete. I'm so sorry. I'll always be here, any time you need me. I'd die for you. I love you." Pete is dumbfounded, he doesn't understand the pain Patrick seems to be feeling right now, especially because the young boy was okay just two minutes ago.
"'Trick, what's wrong? I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything bad, I just wanted to be warm while I waited." Pete's got his arms around Patrick's middle now, and Patrick scoots himself up Pete's body so that their faces are parallel.
Patrick's staring intently at Pete as he mumbles, "You'll never have to wait again. I'm gonna be right here as long as you need me. I promise." And he gently leans in, preparing to kiss Pete, but Pete catches on and cranes his head up, meeting Patrick halfway. Patrick brings his hands to cup Pete's face, and both boys smile into the kiss, making it difficult to actually kiss.
The best thing about kissing Pete, Patrick thinks, is that it shows Pete feels the same way about Patrick as the wheat haired boy does about him. It's a whole new experience, another thing they can share. Pete's eyes flutter open to meet Patrick's half-lidded ones, and the older boy can't help the noise that rises in his throat from coming out. "Patrick," he murmurs, and it sparks something in the singer, making him press his lips more forcefully to Pete's, and the boys know there's no going back now, and they don't want to.
Pete's body responds to Patrick's so naturally it's almost as if they had been doing this for years. They fit together so easily and both of them want this just as much as the other. Pete brings his hands up to tangle them in Patrick's soft hair, and he's never been happier in his life.
Patrick pulls away slowly, and Pete whines in protest, but Patrick just plants kisses along his jaw, down his neck and to his collarbone. Pete moans slightly, and Patrick grins against the crook of his neck. "Pete," Patrick mumbles, and he revels in the feeling of intimacy between them. He's never felt more comfortable, trusting Pete so completely. Both boys won't push the boundary any further tonight, just wanting to feel the other one out. They're moving slow, which is just perfect for the two of them.
"I love you too," Pete says suddenly, and Patrick looks up at him, showing off a thousand-watt smile. Pete hoists Patrick back up so that their faces are even again, and then he rolls Patrick over so that they're laying side by side, facing each other. "You're my best friend."
Patrick can't stop smiling, and he kisses Pete on the nose, making the boy giggle. "You're mine too." And the boys fall asleep like that, smiling and holding onto their best friend.