(no subject)
Title: Post-It Notes
Pairing Pete/Patrick
POV: Third person
Rating: G
Length: 370 words
Author's Note: Holy crap, first FOB fic ever.
Disclaimer: Such a lie.
The snow is melting and you can see the grass and flowers coming up through the slush, but Pete doesn’t notice because, in his heart, it’s still winter. He writes Patrick bits of love songs on Post-It notes and puts them in a notebook he never intends to give to anyone else. The verses are simple enough; just lines that would make teenage girls cry - lines that make Pete cry because they are more honest than anything he’s ever written for the band. He wishes he was braver and could tell Patrick but there so much danger in that transition from platonic to romantic and Pete never was one for danger. He’s safe (stupid sometimes, but always safe).
He tries to hint by letting his hand settle too long on Patrick’s, or by resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder but either Patrick doesn’t notice any change or he just doesn’t care. Pete finds a pair of scissors and cuts himself a little heart out of newspaper, which he pins to his sleeve. His friends laugh but no one gets it so he throws it away in the bathroom of a venue in Whatever City, Middle America; Pete doesn’t remember city names anymore because the kids all look the same no matter where they are.
These days, Pete can look in the mirror and count his ribs, can look in the mirror and see bones protruding from his skin. His face is too thin and his skin is losing some of its color. He decides it’s time to take a chance and so he writes one last Post-It note, his shortest one yet because all it says is “Please love me,” and he sticks it on his bare chest before walking to Patrick’s hotel room. He stands outside the door for a few minutes, gathering courage. When he finally knocks, it only takes about four seconds for Patrick to appear in the doorway. Pete has nothing to say; he simply points at the square of yellow. Patrick’s eyes soften and he takes Pete’s hand in one of his own, placing the other along Pete’s jaw. Pete is surprised when Patrick’s lips meet his forehead and he whispers, “I always have.”
Pairing Pete/Patrick
POV: Third person
Rating: G
Length: 370 words
Author's Note: Holy crap, first FOB fic ever.
Disclaimer: Such a lie.
The snow is melting and you can see the grass and flowers coming up through the slush, but Pete doesn’t notice because, in his heart, it’s still winter. He writes Patrick bits of love songs on Post-It notes and puts them in a notebook he never intends to give to anyone else. The verses are simple enough; just lines that would make teenage girls cry - lines that make Pete cry because they are more honest than anything he’s ever written for the band. He wishes he was braver and could tell Patrick but there so much danger in that transition from platonic to romantic and Pete never was one for danger. He’s safe (stupid sometimes, but always safe).
He tries to hint by letting his hand settle too long on Patrick’s, or by resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder but either Patrick doesn’t notice any change or he just doesn’t care. Pete finds a pair of scissors and cuts himself a little heart out of newspaper, which he pins to his sleeve. His friends laugh but no one gets it so he throws it away in the bathroom of a venue in Whatever City, Middle America; Pete doesn’t remember city names anymore because the kids all look the same no matter where they are.
These days, Pete can look in the mirror and count his ribs, can look in the mirror and see bones protruding from his skin. His face is too thin and his skin is losing some of its color. He decides it’s time to take a chance and so he writes one last Post-It note, his shortest one yet because all it says is “Please love me,” and he sticks it on his bare chest before walking to Patrick’s hotel room. He stands outside the door for a few minutes, gathering courage. When he finally knocks, it only takes about four seconds for Patrick to appear in the doorway. Pete has nothing to say; he simply points at the square of yellow. Patrick’s eyes soften and he takes Pete’s hand in one of his own, placing the other along Pete’s jaw. Pete is surprised when Patrick’s lips meet his forehead and he whispers, “I always have.”