(One year and five months just zooming fucking by I know)
Patrick was terrified of storms.
Lame, he knows. He thinks its lame too. But he couldn't help it. He was left by the side of the road by his mom when he was really little, and he hasn't been the same whenever it starts pouring and the thunder crashed since.
So there he was, Pete was out getting them dinner at some fast food place, leaving Patrick home alone, terrified. Not to mention it was the middle of fucking winter, and freezing.
Patrick's teeth were shattering and he was pretty sure he was about to die, so he crawled under the bed wrapped up in a blanket like any other normal grown man would do.
Then the thunder and lighting started.
Patrick pushed himself to the closest he could get to the wall and the furthest away from any openings of the bed frame. Shaking, shuttering, shivering, eyes clenched shut, and it felt like hours before he heard the door close.
If anything the storm had worsened, and Patrick just lay, unable to move other than his erratic shaking.
"Babe?" Pete asked out lout, exploring the house in search of his boyfriend.
Pete finally got to their room, beginning to get worried. "Patty Cakes?" Pete asked, hoping he'd hear a groan from somewhere around the room in response to the name, but he only heard silence and the odd sound of rattling. Almost like teeth clattering.
Pete's eyes widened when he remembered what happened last storm. And that was barely a drizzle.
He immediately dropped to the ground next to the bed, laying on his stomach and searching underneath for Patrick. He sighed in relief when he finally found him.
" 'Trick, babe, come out from there," Pete tried reasoning, unable to crawl after him from his shoulders being a bit too big.
"Patrick baby I can't reach you, you gotta come out further," Pete pleaded, holding his arms out. Patrick scooted slightly, but made no real effort, and it took all of Pete's strength to drag him out from under the bed, lifting him. "You okay?" he asked, chuckling slightly and beginning to wipe some of the dust off of Patrick's shirt.
Patrick didn't respond, but when a clash of thunder struck, Patrick completely yelped, jumping into Pete's arms and holding on for dear life, beginning to cry into his shoulder. It hurt Pete's heart to hear him cry, and he wanted to punch who ever invented storms right in the fucking kisser.
"Patrick, hey, come on baby, I've got you," Pete said soothingly, rubbing Patrick's back and stroking his hair, lifting him completely (letting Patrick cling to him like a koala, legs and all) and sat on the bed with Patrick on his lap. He gently and slowly laid down and turned to the side, letting Patrick continue to hold on to him, and he did the same.
Pete lowered one hand to rest it on Patrick's bum, pulling him closer and holding him tightly. With every flash of lighting and strike of thunder Patrick would wince and become rigid again, and Pete hated it.
The older bassist kissed the younger boys head, hushing him softly and whispering things like 'It's okay', 'I've got you', 'You're safe with me' into his ear.
Patrick actually began to calm, and Pete smiled to himself, humming softly. Patrick fell asleep quickly, and Pete followed soon behind.
Not soon enough to spare about twenty minutes looking at the sleeping angel, though.
((I dont remember where i read that patrick was scared of storms but props to them for this idea thanks. anyways thanks for reading <3))