The Beat That Stops My Heart

[do_come_in]

Title: The Beat That Stops My Heart

Pairing: Pete/Patrick

Summary: Pete writes plays about his life. He doesn't try to hide it, he never has. What would be the point?
**
Patrick doesn't write music about his life. He doesn't write music about anything in particular. Just feelings, emotions, things that are important at the time.

Part of the RADA 'verse, which can be found here.



Pete writes plays about his life. He doesn't try to hide it, he never has. What would be the point?

**

Patrick doesn't write music about his life. He doesn't write music about anything in particular. Just feelings, emotions, things that are important at the time.

**

"Pete?"

"Yeah, hey. I just... hey."

"What time is it? It's like... ten here."

"Sorry, I just... needed to talk to someone."

"Pete, I'm here. I'm not even doing anything. We're finished with rehearsals for tomorrow and I wasn't even going to go to bed for another hour. Don't be sorry."
`
"Well, I am. Not many people have to put up with a psychotic best friend."

"You aren't psychotic. You just like to think you are because it makes you more interesting."

"Hey, I'm interesting."

"Sure, whatever Pete."

"You love me."

"You know I do."

"Yeah... How did rehearsals go today then?"

"Good, well. They went well. I'm still not confident about how good tomorrow is going to be though."

"It'll be amazing. It always is. You're recording it for me, right?"

"Don't I always?"

"Yeah, but you know... I just needed to check."

"I know. What are you writing about this time, then?"

"What?"

"Well, the only times that I get calls from you in the middle of the night is when you're writing something and you can't finish a scene or there's a phrase that's bugging you. So, what's happening? Let me help."

"Yeah, OK. I mean, it's just this line from Closer... You know, the one that goes 'He tastes like you, but sweeter.' That one? Yeah, well, I wanted to use it... as a bit of a homage, because the play's about people cheating and that's kind of what that entire play is about, right? But it doesn't work. Like it doesn't fit, it's not enough syllables and I don't want to change it really, because any other words lose the sentiment."

"I don't know. What about changing 'but'? It's a really harsh word and it really doesn't fit in the sentence anyway. I don't know. You know I'm not good with words."

"Actually... no, wait... just..."

"Pete?"

"Yeah, no. I'm here. I just, wait a minute."

"Ok."

"Sorry... sorry. I just, I got it. The line, it works now. Thanks Trick."

"Hey, it's your genius that works."

"Yeah, shut up? I'm not the genius in this conversation."

"Whatever Pete. Who's the one that can request any theatre in the West End to put on a play and who's the one that has to go to another continent to have his work played?"

"That's just because no-one knows what to do with your amazingness."

"Yeah, OK, Pete. Because amazingness is a word."

"I'm serious. The English don't deserve you. You're too good for us."

"You're making me blush. Are you going to sleep tonight?"

"I dunno. Yeah, probably. I mean, I haven't slept since... yesterday afternoon. So, I dunno."

"You should sleep, Pete. I want to come back to a happy Pete, not a sad and tired one."

"So, you are coming home then? I mean, you aren't gonna stay in your home town or something, right?"

"Shut up, I'm not even near my home town. I'm in Washington, you know this. Also, I haven't actually been to Chicago since I was twelve, so I don't think it's drawing on my emotions."

"As long as you come back, Trick."

"I'm always going to come back."

"Hey, can you... you know? Sing?"

"Yeah, what do you want to hear?"

"Hallelujah."

**

Pete falls asleep about half way through Patrick singing. He loves Patrick's voice and always says how he should have been a singer instead of a composer. Sometimes Patrick's voice is the only thing that can put him off to sleep and give him good dreams, even though he may not remember them the day afterwards.

Patrick's been away for far too long - a year in August - and even though he promises that he's coming home every time Pete speaks to him, as the months go by he gets more and more unsure if Patrick will ever come home. He's meant to be back in late October, has plane tickets for then, and Pete had the exact date written down somewhere, because he needs to be there to pick Patrick up. There are other people who could go pick him up - Bill and Andy are both within good driving distance of the airport and he knows that Bob would be happy to take the day off work and collect him - but Pete feels like if he can't be there to pick him up, then Patrick might as well not even be back in the country.

Pete wakes up far too late the next day, he's meant to be finishing this play for Ryan and he's only just finished revising the first scene. He calls Ryan anyway, because it's a Monday and Pete knows that he has Monday's mostly free. Ryan's good with Pete's half-finished words, like he understands them.

"Hey Pete. Any reason why you're interrupting my lunch to talk to me?" Ryan says, chewing as he talks. Pete should find it disgusting, but Ryan seems to make it work, just like he makes everything else work for him.

"Yeah, can you come over later? Or now? I have a script that I want you to take a look at." Pete says, and Ryan stops chewing momentarily. Pete hears him swallow and waits for a reply.

"Is it just a play? Or is it a play for my final production?" Ryan asks and Pete wonders how he knows. Ryan's perceptive when it comes to other people, but for some reason, not when it comes to him.

"For your final production. It's a bit... look just come over and have a look for yourself." Pete says and hangs up. He goes to get himself some lunch, because he hasn't eaten in a while - he doesn't actually know how long it's been - and he always feels guilty for snapping at Ryan when he's trying to help.

When Ryan arrives, he splits the play in half, giving Ryan the first and second acts and taking the third, fourth and fifth for himself to revise whilst Ryan's reading. He shouldn't really call them acts, because there aren't really proper scenes in them, but they are separate in his mind and really, that's all that matters.

Ryan and Pete sit together with highlighters and pens and pencils, Ryan reading quietly as Pete scribbles all over the manuscript, because Pete likes his things to be colourful. Ryan's about halfway through the first act when he places the manuscript on the table and looks at Pete.

"I wish you wouldn't write plays about me." Ryan says and Pete turns his head, which is pressed against the table as he highlights an entire paragraph.

"It's not about you. It's about cheating." Ryan sighs and places his pen down on the manuscript so that he can cross his arms without getting pen on his shirt. "Don't look at me like that. It's not my fault that your adultery was inspiring."

"So you did write a play about me?" Pete sits up properly, puts his own pen down, imitates Ryan's body language and smirks at him.

"No, I didn't. I wrote a play that was inspired by your situation, but not actually about you. The main character, she's a girl. She's got eleven boyfriends. It's not you." Ryan sighs and picks up the manuscript, looking at a sentence that he has underlined.

"'Dressed in flowery apparel, she flits through the streets.' I'm sorry Pete, but I'm not stupid. That's me. There's something about Spencer in here as well. Something about a solid love interest." He flicks through the script to the front to find another quote. "You quoted me almost directly. 'She cheated on me. Her solid love interest.' I said that to you. You can't quote me in a play about cheating."

"Who cares? The people who would actually... you know, care, know. Everyone else won't know. It's not even like a big deal." Pete says, picking his pen back up, plastering his face to the table and continuing to highlight a paragraph.

"Fine, wait 'til Patrick gets back. I'm going to write a play about being in unrequited love with your best friend." Pete pretends he doesn't hear him.

**

Patrick emails Pete. A lot. It's a habit that he actually received from Pete, after years of being bugged with texts every five seconds. He does it in between rehearsals, on the way back to his hotel, when he's out having a drink with the pianist and his girlfriend. The pianist, Alex, actually asked if he was missing his girlfriend and when he stuttered out that he didn't have a girlfriend, Alex shrugged and said 'Boyfriend?' instead.

Patrick hadn't really felt like correcting him again, because Pete was near enough to his boyfriend, without the sexual intimacy. So he just smiled, nodded and finished typing out his one-handed email. He hates being out so late, knowing that he has rehearsals the next day and a concert on top of that, but he gets through it and leaves after a respectable time. He loves his job and the people he works with, but he misses England and it's getting to the point where anyone keeping him away is going to get punched.

When he's curled up in bed with his laptop next to him and only the bedside table light on, he feels a bit more connected to the country he grew up in and the people he left there. There is, as usual, a reply to every one of the emails he sent Pete - individual ones, because Pete will have replied within minutes of Patrick sending them - and an email from Bob. He opens the one from Bob first, because it's probably regarding something that'll mean work for Patrick, like whether or not he can order a new Tom and ship it over to Bob, because it costs less. Patrick's right, except for the fact that it's about a hoodie from Bob's favourite clothing line, Chemical Romance, who don't sell to the UK. Patrick think Bob buys the hoodies just so that he can have contact with the store owners, Gerard Way and Frank Iero, old friends of his from a summer long forgotten. Patrick doesn't know the actual story, but he figures that that's the most he'll get out of Bob in any case.

He goes back to the inbox after sending a quick reply that he'll pop down to the store tomorrow to pick it up. There are five emails from Pete, each with the same subject Patrick sent them with. The first is just a simple yes to the question why do you even want the tape of the performance?; the second is a smiley face and a long rambling sentence about the state of the world in reply to a question about why drums work the way they work; the third is i love you to Patrick's i miss you; the fourth is a picture of Pete's face with an eyeliner tear on his face and the caption i is killed people to which Patrick just laughs; and the fifth is a little different. It's a picture of the title page of Pete's newest play, the one that he's been revising. Underneath the author, there is another handwritten line.

To Patrick Stump(optional h), without whom I would not exist.

Patrick's breath catches in his throat and he has to read it three more times before it finally sinks in. Pete has dedicated his life and his play to Patrick. He doesn't know what to think, let alone say to Pete. He stares at the picture for far too long and the screen saver is the first thing to break him away from it. He closes the laptop, picks up his phone and calls Pete.

**

"Now, this is a change."

"What? Me calling you in the middle of the night."

"Something like that, yeah. What's up Patty-cakes?"

"Have you been to sleep?"

"Yeah, earlier, after Ryan left."

"But not tonight?"

"No, not tonight. You haven't told me what you called for yet."

"That dedication. Did you mean it?"

"Yeah... Yeah. Of course I did. Are you serious? Like I'd say something like that... Like I'd say something like that in a serious way and not mean it. You disappoint me."

"Sorry. I'm just trying to get my head around it. You dedicated your life to me, Pete."

"Yeah, I know. I wrote it. I remember writing it. And taking the picture. And sending it. I mean it every time I say it. You are my soul mate, little man. You better let me appreciate you."

"I do. I do. Hey Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"Love you too."

"Hmm, I'd wondered if you'd got that one too. You're going to make me emotional. Don't make me emotional Trick. It'll be bad for the environment."

"What? Sea levels will rise?"

"The amount of tears I'll cry, they'll flood England. And then you'll have nowhere to come home too."

"Yeah, don't cry. I like England, I'd quite like it to still be there when I get back, thanks."

"Good. 'Cause I've been keeping it safe for you."

"Hey, I need to sleep. Early rehearsals. Want me to sing for you?"

"Nah, I'll be up in two hours anyway. You're OK. Night Trick."

"Night Peter Pan."

**

Patrick manages - somehow, he's really not sure how - to get through the day without shouting, crying or punching someone. The orchestra have relaxed after their performance last night and until Patrick had stopped them all for lunch half way through a half hearted section by the violins, they didn't realise that they had to do it again tonight. Orchestras never remember that after their opening night and Patrick has always vaguely wondered if it's the same for actors. Do directors come in the day after opening night and find them in tracksuits, eating chips onstage and severely hungover? Because that's what his orchestra are like and he's not going to put up with it much longer.

He clears his throat angrily and taps his baton against his music stand. It takes a while for the whole orchestra to turn around and look at him, but when they do, they all listen attentively.

"Is this a playground? No." Patrick says, trying to keep his voice even. "I don't expect you to be as nervous or as high-strung as yesterday, but I do expect the same amount of commitment. There are still people coming to see this who want to see an amazing piece of orchestral music." Those who were still eating or had an ear bud in are now focusing entirely on him. He nods his head and smiles slightly. "You have five minutes more of lunch and then I want concentration from each and every one of you."

Patrick uses those five minutes to email Pete about the stress of today. He doesn't have the same knack for cryptic messages that Pete does, but he doesn't really expect to, what with their professions. He thinks Pete'll understand at least, but that might not have much to do with his plain text and more to do with how long they've known each other.

The rest of the rehearsal goes well. Not as well as he would have liked, but better than he honestly expected. They seem in the right mind set for the concert that afternoon and then for the one in the evening and Patrick's exhausted from the effort that it takes him to relax throughout the rest of the day. By the time he gets home, he knows that Pete will have been awake for at least two hours - he's been exhausted lately, so Pete will have actually slept today - and his fingers itch to call him. Patrick's been spending too much money on the phone lately and he really knows he shouldn't. He's tired anyway and talking to Pete just makes him feel more awake, more like he has a reason to stay awake. He flips open his phone, intending just to text him when he sees the 7 missed calls he has, all from Pete. Instead, he texts call me knowing that Pete will.

**

Pete's had a ridiculously unproductive day. He hasn't had much to edit after Ryan's help yesterday and he knows that he can do the bulk of it another time. Really, he just wants to talk to Patrick. He's been greedy lately, talking to him at least three times a week for the past fortnight, and it's eating up at his non-existent savings. He always gets like this when he's finishing a play, because everything needs to be just right and he needs someone to talk to who inspires him. He's feels stupidly corny when he says things like that; he's meant to be original and he just isn't. Patrick is probably the only person who really understands that about him, and that? That is something he is entirely grateful for.

He does call Patrick in the end, because he's weak and can't really spend much time doing anything else. Ryan and Spencer bought him a Wii for his last birthday, mostly so they could thrash him at games that completely perplex him, and he spends the minutes in between calling Patrick trying to find the odd one out on Wii Play. He's too distracted to get onto the higher levels, so he just spends four hours finding himself between Ryan and Spencer's Mii's. He does go to bed and he actually manages to get some proper sleep in, because he hasn't for the past few days. He takes his phone to bed with him and puts it on loud instead of vibrate, just in case Patrick calls him.

There are no missed calls when he wakes up and he spends about half an hour feeling sorry for himself before he realises that Patrick has a matinee and an evening performance to get through before he'll even think of cheking his phone. He knows Patrick and he knows that during performance days not even Pete has access to him. He makes a pot of coffee and pulls out his script, still waiting on the morning sun. It's too early to honestly be the morning, but that's alright with Pete, because he's used to half-mornings like this one.

He doesn't realise that he's left his phone on loud until it goes off on the table. He catches it as it falls off and flicks it open. He laughs for a moment at his own smooth movements before looking at the text. It's from Patrick and his heart beats a little faster at hearing from him after so long. So long is only really a day, but Pete's been spoilt lately and he really wants to keep it that way. He presses the call button and puts the phone on speakerphone, waiting for Patrick to pick up just before the voice mail kicks in. He gasps a little bit when Patrick picks up on the third ring and he sounds ridiculously sleepy. Pete slides down in his chair and pulls his hood up on his jacket. They don't talk for very long, just long enough to tell each other about they days and for Pete to mumble 'I love you' whilst Patrick is talking.

Patrick hears, Pete knows he does, because they both stop and just breath for a little while. Pete likes it when it's like this, he can concentrate on feeling like Patrick is in the room with him, is sitting next to him. It feels like he can touch him. Pete drifts off for a little while, and Patrick doesn't start talking again. Pete doesn't realise that he's fallen asleep though, until a little snore comes from across the speaker. He smiles at the phone on the table and pushes the off button. Patrick needs the sleep in any case. He's OK with not being able to talk to Patrick if it means that he's looking after himself.

He clicks his phone shut and carries on reading the script. He feels better, somehow.

**

Patrick is awoken by his daily wake-up call and he takes him a few minutes to realise that he fell asleep in the middle of a phone call to Pete. He frowns and tries to find his phone to see whether Pete's left him a goodnight message. He has, even though it says that he only sent it an hour ago. It's a stupid rambling thing that Patrick kind of doesn't understand but it makes him feel bad about the phone call. It's not the best thing to wake up to when he has a long day a head of him that doesn't need to be distracted by thoughts of Pete.

Patrick gets out of bed and pretends that he isn't distracted by thoughts of Pete every day anyway. He has a shower and tries really hard to pretend that he isn't thinking about Pete. He mostly succeeds, because of the visions of his ex-boyfriend banging the shit out of some drums. It's only slightly less painful than thinking about... something else. He goes to the rehearsal and spends about an hour with his phone propped against the music stand before he drops several pages of notations and they have to stop for a few minutes whilst Patrick decides whether putting his phone away is a good idea. Alex ends up taking it off him in any case, frowning as he closes it and puts it in his own jacket.

When they start up again, Patrick isn't really concentrating and is relying on the cellist to bring everyone in on time. It's going to be a busy week, he knows, because of the new piece that they are adding for the encore. He hates changing the show's programme half way through a run, but the Prelude was too quiet after the loud percussion in the concerto. As the rehearsal draws to an end, Patrick sort of hates himself. He'd been angry at his orchestra yesterday for being lazy and complacent and now he's doing the exact same thing himself. Alex hangs on afterwards to ask Patrick if he's coming to the bar as usual before the hectic week begins. Patrick can't really see a valid reason not to.

They go out and Patrick drinks a little too much and by the time that Alex bundles him into a car he's ready to sleep for the next eternity. When he gets back to the hotel, he somehow manages to get up to his room unaided and it only takes him five minutes to actually get the key card into the door and get it open.

The next week becomes a bit of a blur for Patrick, starting with a hangover and ending with a headache. The rehearsals more than take over his life and his phone has been turned off for almost the entire week. He's managed to send a few tired and mostly incoherent texts to Pete and had received a very strange one from Bob, but that was all. He hadn't even thought of checking his email until six days into his rehearsal schedule.

There are twenty four emails from Pete, several of them replies to his texts and more just the usual ramblings of Pete when he wants to say something but can't quite get around to it. There's one though - Patrick thinks it's the sixteenth, but he's not going to check - which is out of the ordinary for Pete. It's one sentence and there's no metaphors involved in anyway. He doesn't count the subject line in this. It simply says 'i want to videocall you.' Patrick thinks it's the most romantic thing that Pete's ever said to him.

He replies with the times that he has space to talk to Pete and shuts down his computer for the night. He's tired and staying up late just to wait for a reply isn't going to benefit anyone, especially not Pete. He does, however, check in the morning. There's a reply that says, 'tomorrow, in the evening'. He smiles to himself, because after just under ten months, Patrick is finally going to see his best friend. He says as much to Alex, who just seems confused and asks if that means he's going to talk to Pete. Patrick smiles and nods and Alex spends the whole day making cracks about camera sex. Patrick hadn't realised that Alex was so imaginative.

**

After Patrick left, Pete had still spent a good proportion of his time in Patrick's old apartment. He was friends with Patrick's flatmate - Bob - so it was largely allowed. It becomes a bit weirder when Bob gets a new room mate, who doesn't know Pete and looks at him weirdly for about a month before Pete figures out that she's pretty much always stoned. Pete likes the new girl, Joe, because she's this quiet, petite girl, who never talks except when it's about music. Pete has had several long discussions with her about music and has even sat and played guitar with her once, although she had complained about how badly he played.

She's got Patrick's room, even though Pete had protested. Bob had just said that it was unfair to make her sleep in the box room that they put a futon in for guests but isn't actually meant to be a bedroom. Instead, all of the belongings that Patrick couldn't take with him have been put in the box room and now Pete has to sleep on the sofa when he stays too late and can't go home.

Pete actually ends up in the box room with Patrick's things most of the nights he stays over. Bob catches him sitting in it once when he gets up for a middle of the night piss and he doesn't say anything, just heads back to his room. When Pete leaves the next day, he is wearing a shirt and hoodie of Patrick and has found an old trucker hat that Pete got for him when he first started gets a bald spot. Bob still doesn't say anything, but Pete sees the little sad smile that he's wearing as Pete leaves. Pete sometimes forgets that Bob's best friend also left and that it's not just him missing Patrick. When Pete's feeling bad, he still digs that old hoodie out and jams the hat on his head and pretends that he's Patrick and that he never left. He thinks it's stupid, but it makes him feels better.

Today is one of those days. It's been almost a week since he's talked to Patrick, because Patrick's been working or sleeping and not doing much else. He understands, because the performance weeks are always worse than the rehearsals, because he sets timetables for rehearsal days so that he gets home and gets some sleep and he usually makes the pianist stop him. Pete's grateful for this, but it always makes it worse when he can't talk to him.

He gets a text from Patrick at around five saying to be online in six hours so that they can talk. Pete's not good at transposing times between Washington and London, so he's very grateful when Patrick does it for him. He wastes the time between five and eleven cooking a three course meal that he eats the dessert of and puts the rest in the fridge for the next few days. When it gets to 10:45, he logs on, just in case Patrick's on early. He isn't, because Patrick's always on time but never early. He wastes the time playing tetris and not really concentrating on it, in favour of checking the time. At 10:57, Patrick comes online and Pete opens up the video chat.

It takes Patrick a few minutes to accept, but when he does, Pete's heart starts beating too fast in his chest. He hasn't seen Patrick in weeks, months, because they don't really have time to do this. Patrick's in his pyjamas, even though Pete knows he has a performance later. That's probably why he's not dressed, Pete reasons to himself, but he can't help thinking that Patrick needs to be in bed, sleeping. Pete knows he's got dark rings under his own, but he can't help frowning and screwing his eyebrows up looking at Patrick's bags. He looks exhausted and Pete can't help thinking that Patrick's looking at exactly the same thing. His unwashed hair is hidden underneath Patrick's hat and then he realises that he's dressed in Patrick's clothes. Usually, Patrick gets angry at Pete for stealing his clothes, but he doesn't even seem to notice. He's not wearing a hat, but Pete's used to that, prefers it and that makes him feel better.

He really doesn't know what to say that isn't: "You look awful, Trick." He ends up talking about Ryan's new play and how he's coming along artistically. He's almost finished writing it and it's going to take him a little while to edit it and find a company who wants to put it on.

"Shut up, Pete." Patrick says, after about five minutes of rambling. He doesn't say it with malice, or angry, but he looks exasperated when Pete looks up. And that's it. Pete can't take being so close to him, being able to see him, talk to him, but not being able to wrap himself around him. There's already tears rolling down his cheeks, but he's been doing his best to wipe them away serruptiously. Now, at the sound of Patrick voice, the tears become sobs and it's not that long before him can't breath properly. Patrick is just sitting there watching him and he feels so stupid for acting like this. He watches Patrick until the lump in his throat goes away. He can't really stop himself when he whispers: "I love you, lunchbox" after he regains his voice. Patrick looks kind of shocked, but smiles and reaches a hand out to touch the screen.

Pete reaches out as well, copying Patrick, trying to feel a little more connected to him. It doesn't work and he ends up just staring at Patrick, who's completely still and looking down and to the left of the camera. His mouth is slightly open, as if there's something he wants to say. They look at each other for a few minutes before Pete shakes himself out of it and looks down at the clock. They've been online almost half an hour and Patrick has said three words. He feels ridiculous, sitting on his bed waiting for Patrick to stop staring at the screen. He wants to do something about it, snap him out of his thoughts, but he looks relaxed and Pete doesn't want to stop that.

"Patrick?" He says after another few minutes, because he's kind of getting antsy and he doesn't know what to do about it without distracting Patrick. Patrick shakes his head and mumbles: "Sorry, sorry" before pulling his hand back into his lap.

"Pete, I..." He gets out before his head whips around. He calls out to whoever is at the door and turns back to the computer. "I miss you, I love you" He says, too quickly and only just loud enough for Pete to hear before shutting the computer. Then Pete's left all alone with a black window and the announcement that Patrick has signed out.

He pushes the computer to the side before climbing into bed, curling up and breathing deeply into Patrick's hoodie. It smells too much like Pete now for him to be able to smell Patrick, but he doesn't think that actually matters. As long as he can feel Patrick in it, then he's happy. He's too cried to really do much else than lie on his bed trying to sleep and pretend that he doesn't want to be anywhere that's not away from Patrick.

**

Patrick feels stupid and incredibly guilty for just hanging up on Pete. He could have eaten the room service whilst talking to Pete, although he knows that they hadn't been doing that much talking. What Pete had said hadn't meant that much to him, but what he hadn't said had meant the world. Patrick could see the dark circles under his eyes, could see the hoodie that Patrick had thought he'd lost when they were in Berlin. He knew that Pete's hair was unwashed and that the peeling nail varnish on his fingernails was from neglect, but Patrick doesn't want to think about how his best friend is falling apart without him there to take care of Pete.

He doesn't want to know whether or not it would be the same if he wasn't there - he's seen Pete like that before, once or twice - but he'd quite like to think it's because of him. He'd like to know that Pete was missing him as much as he was missing Pete. He sighs, kicking the plate away with his foot and lying back against the pillows. He has about fifteen minutes until he needs to get ready to go and he's been itching for a shower. He grabs the fluffy bathrobe that the hotel provided for him and he goes to run a shower.

The water's hot, and it doesn't take him that long to feel clean again, but he stays under the spray anyway. He likes the feeling of it running down over his back. He leans his arm against the wall and then his forehead and lets his body heat up. Patrick likes that he's completely alone here, that no-one can bother him. His ears are blocked with water and he can't here anything except the slow thump of blood in his ears. He feels safe.

Sometimes, he thinks that it probably has to do with the lack of privacy in his childhood home and as a teenager, the shower was where he learnt everything he'd needed to know about his own anatomy. Some other things had come later, with more experience and a little help, but it was always the shower, not his bed, that Patrick felt comfortable in.

He's been tense, he knows he has, but it feels stupid using that as an excuse to jerk off in the shower. He's knows that's not why he's doing it. He's been tense for weeks now and this hasn't done anything to relieve it. Patrick, the largely self-controlled adult that he is, refuses to admit the real reason. The one that puts flashes of dark hair, taut brown skin and calluses fingers into his brain when he's doing this. The one that makes his skin tingle with anticipation in the same way it does when he's watching a movie with his best friend. He can't help feeling guilty about it, because Pete loves him, but he's fairly sure it's not like this.

It's never been like this, but he can imagine it. He can imagine Pete mouthing at his neck. He can imagine the callused fingers wrapping around his own hand, pushing it away. He can imagine the dark flash of hair sinking down, kneeling in front of him. He doesn't want to, but he can imagine Pete whispering 'I love you' into his ear as he slides into Patrick. He can imagine crawling into bed and kissing the dark circles away, because in his mind, it's just that easy. He doesn't want to make this sad, but he does. He always does. Another flash of a dark tattoo and his own fingers and he's done. He pants out a breath, another and sinks down.

He doesn't have time for this. He turns off the shower and rushes to get ready. He's not especially late, but being busy helps him keep his prying thoughts at bay. It doesn't work, they sink over him, crawling from the back of his mind and now he has to dwell in his own guilt and repression for the rest of the evening. It's not fair to the orchestra, the one he pushes every day to keep in shape, to keep up with his rigorous demands. He puts it out of his mind, whilst the music flows over him, and just like the shower is his playground, the music is his secret hideout.

**

Pete stopped pretending a long time ago that he didn't know he was in love with Patrick. He's known for a long time, too long probably, and by now, it's just a nagging thought in the back of his mind whenever the subject of Patrick comes up. He thinks that he should tell Patrick - actually sit him down and tell him, rather than shouting 'I love you, Pattycakes' across rooms, just because - but he's got a good thing going that he really doesn't want to ruin. It's a weird relationship they have, because he knows that it's stronger than Ryan and Spencer's ever will be, but they figured it out so easily.

He asks Spencer, one day, what exactly happened so that his life could turn out the way it did. Spencer just smiles his wry smile and pretends that he doesn't know the secret to Pete's happiness. Instead, he just says: "People are stupid. The only way to stop that is to sit them down and tell them exactly what you want," which doesn't stop Pete's fears that he's going to have to tell Patrick eventually. He will, he knows, it's just a matter of when and where and how.

Which leads him onto the idea that he needs to see Patrick in the flesh. Their first and only attempt so far to talk face-to-face has ended in him crying and Patrick running away. He really doesn't want the rest of his life to be like that. So, he looks at flight times and at Patrick's touring schedule and books a flight. Then he tries very hard not to think about what he's just done and goes to look over the script that Ryan sent him. It's good, full of life and happiness, but with the hint of worry, just like everything Ryan's been doing since Spencer moved over here.

Sometimes, Pete really wants his writing to show the things that Ryan's does. To show the love he has, not the pain he feels, but then he reminds himself, that Ryan doesn't have that pain any more and if Pete just sorted it out, it would be ok. But there's always the thought that it won't that nags at the back of his brain. That Patrick doesn't love him back. That even if Patrick does love him, it's definitely not in the same way. That he'll never have what Ryan and Spencer have.

About half-way through the first Act, his email pings. It's from Patrick, which means he's probably just finished his concert and is back at the hotel. He wants to call him, to tell Patrick that he's coming, but he knows he won't. Instead, he opens the email. It's short, but that doesn't mean anything to Pete.

'I'm sorry about tonight, last night, whatever. I just... seeing you when I'm here is hard and I really wish you were here with me. I feel so stupid saying this, but you match your name. You're my rock and how clichéd is that? You'll probably send me back a rant about how we use our own metaphors, not other people's. I'm rambling, I'm sorry. I miss you.

Love you,
Patrick'

And suddenly, everything that's Pete's been worrying about gets pushed back by this overwhelming feeling of relief. Patrick wants exactly what Pete does. He misses him and he wants Pete to be there. This time, Pete picks up the phone. He knows it'll be late and Patrick will most likely be asleep, but it doesn't need to be a long phonecall.

**

"Mmm?"

"I'm coming. To see you, not you know, coming. I booked the flight."

"Pete?"

"Yeah, yeah, it's me. Sorry I woke you, but, jesus, I miss you."

"Miss you too."

"I'll be there in 8 days. 9 for you right now. Um... the 24th?"

"Mm coming here? Email me the details?"

"Yeah, yeah, definitely. I'll just. You go back to sleep. Love you."

"Love you, Pete."

**

Pete's plane gets in at 11:47 - Patrick knows the exact time because he has an alarm set for it - and Patrick been standing in from of the Arrivals exit for the past hour. He's got an empty coffee cup in his hand, but he's too scared that if he goes to drop it in the bin, he'll miss Pete. He can't miss Pete, he can't do it. Of course, he doesn't. Pete comes tumbling out of Arrivals, wearing Patrick's old hoodie once again. Patrick drops the cup when he sees it and Pete almost jumps into his arms.

There is a duffle and a suitcase by their feet and Pete's arms around his neck and this is vaguely perfect. He buries his face into Pete's neck and breathes in the scent of England. It doesn't really smell like England at all, because Washington smells a lot like England, but it smells a lot like Pete. He tries very hard to hold back the tears that he's been holding in since that video call, only it doesn't exactly work.

Pete places a kiss on his shoulder and he actually starts sobbing. It's been too long since he's had Pete so close to him and he's missed his best friend. They don't let go for too long and they look too much like a couple, but Patrick doesn't care. Not really, not at that moment in time. He will later, and even now, it's in the back of his mind.

He pulls back so slowly and Pete presses their foreheads together. His eyes are closed and Patrick just wants to stare at Pete's face forever. He seems peaceful now, more so that Patrick's ever seen him, and he wants that look to stay on Pete's face forever. After a few seconds, Pete opens his eyes and tilts his head forward, pressing their lips together in the most meaningful kiss that Patrick's ever received. It lasts for not even a second before Patrick's pulling him back into the hug and his mind is reeling at what had just happened. It takes them almost fifteen minutes to get out to the car and by that time, Pete's only just managing not to cling to Patrick's side and settles for taking one of Patrick's hands in both of his. It makes driving harder than it should be and it makes the journey back to the hotel a lot slower, but Patrick doesn't really want to let go either.

Patrick thinks that this reunion is more like that of a couple than it is of best friends. It bothers him, just enough that when the girl behind the front desk at his hotel raises her eyebrows at him and Pete, who's lost his courage and is now pressed against Patrick's side, he hurries them out of the lobby and towards the elevators. Pete doesn't notice at all. In fact, he's mumbling about how seedy it looks, the two of them hurrying towards the elevators of a hotel. Once they are in Patrick room, he calms down a bit, but bounds onto the bed and makes grabby hands at Patrick. Patrick looks to the clock - they have just over an hour before they need to go, if they want to get some lunch on the way - so he crawls onto the bed and sprawls out next to Pete. Pete curls up to his side and rests his hand on Patrick's heart.

"How come you can afford to stay in a hotel for all this time?" Patrick laughs, because he's gets asked this all the time.

"Well, Mum pays for half of it. Mostly because she 'doesn't want to see me out on the street'." Patrick says, trying to imitate his mother's voice and failing. "And the other bit is that because it's a residency room and they don't clean it as often and other stuff like that, it's quite a bit cheaper." He shrugs, because it is and it's not a big deal. He wasn't going to bother finding an apartment when he only stays in cities for a few months at a time. Washington is the longest stay - four months, almost twice as long as anywhere else - and he's the most comfortable here. He likes getting to know the people, getting to know the city.

"Oh, ok." Pete says and they settle down into silence. Pete's fingers are thrumming over his chest and Patrick really wants to still him but it's comforting, having the constant knowledge that he's there.

"So, what'd you bring me?" Patrick says, when he feels like he's about to fall asleep. He really wants to fall asleep like this, but they have things to do today and he can't miss rehearsal. He also wants to know if Pete's actually got something for him, because he knows Pete and he's knows that if it's anything it's going to be something that Patrick holds onto for the rest of his life.

"Oh, oh," Pete says, bounding off the bed and throwing open his suitcase. Patrick sits up as he digs around and clutches something to his chest. "Close your eyes." He says, and Patrick does. "You're going to love this. I really hope you will." Then Patrick feels something soft get dropped on his lap. He looks down and sees Wumper. He smiles and picks the old rabbit up, playing with it's ears. He's had this rabbit since he was four and he hasn't realised how much he's missed the old thing until it's here in his lap. He pulls it into his chest and then holds out a hand for Pete.

"This is the best thing you could've gotten me." Patrick mumbles, pulling Pete close into him. Patrick presses a quick kiss to Pete's cheek and cuddles into both him and Wumper. After a few minutes of cuddling, Pete pulls back and tugs on Patrick's arm until he looks away from the rabbit.

"I've got to take a shower, that's alright, yeah?" Patrick smiles and nods, getting up to show him how the shower works, but not letting go of Wumper as he does.

**

Pete's shower is a cold one. He stands under the spray, wanting the thoughts in his head to go away. They do, eventually, but the tightness of his chest remains. He blames it on the shower and steps out onto the bathroom floor. He's not objecting to anything that's been going on in his head, but it feels different now. Their relationship feels different. Like they took the next step, but neither of them actually noticed. He runs the hot water tap, so there's steam in the air, then dries himself off and goes out to see Patrick, who's still got Wumper pressed to his cheek and is staring at the wall.

Pete coughs, almost nervously, and walks forward to stand over Patrick. Patrick looks up and smiles contentedly, like this is exactly how he wants things to be. Then he gets up and looks at the clock.

"You want to dry your hair before we go?" Patrick says and Pete nods. Of course he does. Pete's very particular about looking just so when there are other people around. When it's just him, or Ryan, or Patrick, it's not a problem, but the rest of the world doesn't get to see that side of him. Pete thinks that it's vaguely like putting on war paint to meet your enemy.

It doesn't take him too long to dry his hair, but by the time he's done, they need to go. He grabs his wallet, even though he knows that this trip will be full of 'but you're my guest' and 'put your money away' from Patrick. Pete doesn't really know why, he has the money. He supposes it's because Patrick likes to take care of Pete when he can. Once again, when they're out in public, Pete clasps Patrick hand in both of his and Patrick squeezes back just as tightly. It's reassuring to know that he's there, that he's not a figment of Pete's very twisted imagination.

They get food at Subway and only sit down to eat because Patrick has a thing about eating in theatres. Pete's never understood this, but then again, Patrick's rehearsals seem to be quite a lot shorter than those Pete usually attends. It may be because they've already started the run, but he doesn't know. In any case, Pete's happy to sit in a booth across from Patrick and trap one of his legs between Pete's. Their tangled legs mean Patrick is doing the same to Pete, which just ends up giving Pete a whole mess of metaphors that have to stay in his head. Patrick, who has seen this look before, digs in his bag and finds a pen and a largely blank piece of staff paper for Pete to scribble on.

When he passes them across, Pete smiles, picks one of Patrick hands off the table and kisses his knuckles. Patrick smiles back just a brightly and watches Pete's magic come out. Pete doesn't think of it in the same way Patrick does. It's just words, things he's been familiar with for the majority of his life. Putting them together isn't hard, it's just what happens. He supposes that Patrick doesn't understand his writing in the same way that Pete doesn't understand Patrick's music. He loves music, it means a lot to him, but he can't quite fathom how people just know what to do. Just know how to make it sound right without hearing it played. He's always envied that ability in Patrick.

When he's done, Patrick pulls the paper away from him and puts it in his bag. The walk to the theatre is longer than Pete expects, but once they get there, he realises that his need to write actually made Patrick late for a rehearsal. The orchestra all turn to see them enter and one or two smile. Pete swears that he sees the man sitting at the piano smirk, but he ignores it. Instead, he pressed Patrick's knuckles to his lips, lifting their entwined hands to his mouth and letting them linger. Then he goes and finds a seat in the front row, after taking some paper out of Patrick's bag.

He likes to listen to Patrick's music, it inspires him to write, especially when it's being played live. He's finished writing by the time Patrick turns to him and beckons him up from the stalls. He climbs the stairs whilst the orchestra pack up and slides onto Patrick's stool. Patrick grins and kisses his temple before taking the papers and putting them into the back of his folder. The pianist wanders over and sticks out his hand for Alex to shake.

"Alex Marshall, nice to meet you." Pete smiles and takes his hand. Patrick rolls his eyes at Alex and goes to pick up his things. "Patrick's told me all about you, though I very much doubt you know that." Pete raises an eyebrow and looks to Patrick for a moment before looking back at Alex.

"Pete Wentz," he says, even though he doesn't know whether he needs to or not. He doesn't know what Patrick's actually said about him, about who he is, what he does, but he doesn't know whether it's something that he needs to tell Alex.

"Yeah, Patrick said that you're a playwright, right? All the creativeness in your house must be insane." He says, laughing and looking over to Patrick. Pete frowns and looks at him as well. He's cleaning the extra music sheets from around the chairs, sighing every time he finds another one.

"I dunno. I live alone and all." Pete says, shrugging. He doesn't really know what Alex is talking about. He's always lived on his own and it's a relatively normal household, regardless of the fact that he lives there.

"No, but I mean when Patrick's home?" He says and Patrick back with them at this point, looking between Pete and Alex for an explanation. Pete just shrugs and slides his hand down to entwine their fingers.

"Me and Patrick don't actually live together." Pete says, still confused. Alex smiles at the two of them and moves towards his bag where his phone is vibrating. He pulls it out and reads the text, before replying quickly. Both Pete and Patrick watch him, but Pete drops his head onto Patrick's shoulder.

"I get it. Keep the mystery or whatever." He says, picking up his bag and looking back at his phone. "Anyway, we're late, Lexi's waiting." And then heads out of the theatre, expecting Patrick and Pete to follow. They do, but Pete keeps a stiff hold on Patrick's hand the entire way.

"Don't worry. You'll like Lexi. Her name's Alex too, but they both can't be called that and she hates her surname." He says and Pete just nods. He's not scared, but he doesn't like new people.

**

It's weird, having Pete meet the people that he spends his down time with. Alex and Lexi are a sweet couple and they are probably the only people that Patrick will stay in contact with from Washington on anything other than a professional level. His orchestra are mostly nice people, but they are all convinced that their instruments are the be all, end all of music and Patrick just doesn't understand that. Alex's friends are generally quite nice and there are a few of them at the bar tonight. Pete shrinks into Patrick a little more and Patrick holds onto his hand a little tighter.

"This is Pete." Alex says to the group of people in the booth that the three of them are sliding into. "Pete, this is Travis, Ray and Amanda. And this little beauty here is my Lexi." Patrick looks to Lexi, who's blushing and pushing at Alex's shoulder and he kisses her cheek. Both Travis and Ray are rolling there eyes and Amanda is grinning at Pete. Amanda grinning rather reminds Patrick of a shark, so he doesn't know how Pete sees it.

"Hi," Pete says, leaning into Patrick a little. Amanda has taken for grin down to a smile, which is actually scarier and the others are nodding at Pete. The thing is, Patrick wouldn't call these three his friends, but he knows them well enough to know that Pete will be fine if Amanda stops looking at him like she wants to eat him for a evening snack.

"So, Patrick's told us absolutely nothing about you. He's always the elusive one." Amanda says and even Patrick shrinks back. This isn't going well. Travis laughs along with her and even Ray smiles.

"It must be nice to be together again." Alex says and winks at Patrick. The others laugh and Pete just surges forward. The one thing he's happy to talk about is Patrick and that just ends in embarrassment for Patrick.

"It really, really is." He says, turning to Patrick and pressing his face in his shoulder. "I missed my lunchbox." Patrick smiles and wraps his arm around Pete's thin shoulders. Pete grins at him and he allows the others to 'aww' at them. Patrick kind of hates when people do that, but he doesn't mind so much tonight.

"What's the lunchbox thing about?" Travis asked and Amanda gasps theatrically, leaning forward.

"Is it like a thing you two have?" She asks, eyes wide and smirking. Pete is just grinning and explaining that they've been doing that for ever. Patrick leans his face in his hands and Alex just pats his back whilst chuckling.

"It's cool that you guys aren't all vanillla." Lexi says and Patrick blanches. He's pretty sure that means what he thinks it means and that's not good. They think that he and Pete are together.

"We're not... I mean... not like that... not... jesus," Patrick says and the whole table are looking at him like he's gone insane. "Never mind, alright?" They all smile at him and Patrick feels Pete rubbing his neck.

Ray pats Amanda on the head as she starts asking Pete what he does and announces that he's getting a round in, so Patrick figures that no-one cares what does or doesn't happen between them. It doesn't stop him from caring though..

**

The orchestra are still clearing out when Patrick comes to sit with him in the stalls. Pete looks up momentarily, because scribbling the end of a paragraph and pushing the paper onto the floor. Patrick laughs at him and Pete is tempted to pout, but he doesn't. The armrests in the theatre move, so Pete pushes his own up and snuggles into Patrick's side. It's odd, watching the rehearsals from the stalls; it feels like his watching it on the television, like he's not part of it.

Patrick's arm is over his shoulders and it's comforting, just watching the bigger instruments get packed away. Patrick doesn't say anything, just lets Pete tuck his face into Patrick's neck and breathe. Pete feels happier for being here, in a place that's part of the two of them, and just being together. Pete looks up at Patrick and moves back slightly. Patrick's looking up at the stage and Pete follows his gaze to Alex, who's still sitting at the piano. Pete doesn't think he knows that either of them are there, but that's ok. Patrick's listening to the music that Alex is playing and it doesn't take much to turn Patrick's face towards him.

Patrick doesn't really look at Pete until he leans in close to his face. Patrick's eyes flick towards Pete, then down and Pete just does it. He's not really thinking about it until Patrick gasps. Pete inches closer, but pulls his face back. Patrick's eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open a little. "Yeah?" He whispers and he watches as Patrick nods. He's so glad he does. Pete leans forward again, pressing himself as much as he can into Patrick's body. Patrick's arm wraps around him, pulling him in close and his hand goes to the back of Pete's head. Pete has to curl his hand in Patrick's t-shirt to stop him doing something really stupid in public. Pete pulls back again after a few minutes and looks to the stage where Alex is still playing. "Maybe, we should get a taxi back to the hotel?"

Patrick opens his eyes and looks at Pete's presumably swollen lips and bites his own, nodding. Patrick calls a taxi quickly, turning away from Pete to talk quietly into the phone. Pete picks up the paper that he pushed to the floor and shoves it all into Patrick's bag, before Patrick turns back to him and holds out a hand for Pete. Pete takes it, moving his thumb over the back of Patrick's hand and this is familiar. Pete can handle this. The taxi ride back to the hotel is quiet and subdued and Pete's fairly sure that Patrick's having a little freak-out inside his head. Pete would be too, except for how Patrick's his soul mate and being closer to him can never be a bad thing.

The receptionist at the hotel smiles at them as they walk through, but it's a different smile to the one that Pete has seen before. It's small and warm and Pete feels better that there's someone else concerned about Patrick in the world. They don't really speak until they get through the door way of Patrick's suite, and then it's pretty much Patrick just staring and Pete trying to think of something to say that will relieve the tension. It doesn't work.

"Can I?" Pete says, stepping forward a little. Patrick nods and he steps forward again, placing one hand on Patrick's jaw. He stares at him for a moment, before pushing their lips together. It's different now, but Pete wants to think that it'll always be different. There's a heat behind it that Pete's not felt in a long time and it's all the better because it's Patrick on the other end. Patrick's hands are on his hips, but slide around the the crease above his ass as Pete presses himself closer. He's been waiting far too long for this to happen and he's not going to let it go any time soon.

"Pete, Pete," Patrick says, pulling away, "Jesus... bed. Get on the bed." Pete wants to make a stupid joke, like he always does, but he spares himself the trouble of getting Patrick to come back afterwards and crawls onto the bed, kneeling up in the centre of it. Patrick comes forward onto the bed, dropping his hoodie off as he goes. Pete does the same, except he takes his t-shirt off too. Patrick stops, staring at Pete's chest and he reaches out a hand to touch. Pete shivers, feeling the softened calluses on Patrick's fingers as they scrape over his collarbone.

"Take this off?" Pete says, the question clear in his tone as he tugs at the hem of Patrick's shirt. He's worried that Patrick won't, but he wants to see. Jesus, he wants to see. "Please?" He tries, and then starts unbuttoning it himself. Patrick just stays very still and when Pete looks up to his face, his eyes are closed and he's biting the inside of his lip. Pete leans up to kiss him, as he pushes the shirt off of Patrick's shoulder. He pulls away to glance down and there's all this pale, soft skin between them now. He slides his hands over the curves that he's never had and then captures Patrick's mouth in his once again. "Christ, I never..." Pete says, sliding his legs out from underneath him and leaning back, tugging Patrick with him. His head doesn't quite hit the pillow, but Pete doesn't mind. He wraps his legs around Patrick's middle and pulls their bodies together.

"I'm going... to crush you, Pete," Patrick mumbles, pushing himself onto his elbows and leaning away. Pete grumbles and pouts up at him, tipping his head up. Patrick laughs and kisses Pete once again. He moves forward just enough that Pete can tighten his legs and grind up into Patrick. Patrick drops onto one elbow and slides his hand under the arch of Pete's back, pushing their hips together harder. Patrick groans into the kiss and moves their hips together, creating that delicious friction that Pete's been waiting for.

"Fuck, yes, you know... how long... I've waited for this," Pete says, taking too big breaths in between sucking at the hollow in Patrick's neck. He loves how he can feel the tendons in Patrick neck, every time that Pete rolls his hips just right. Patrick just grunts in reply and shivers as one of Pete's hands finds it's way into the back of his trousers and into his boxers.

"Pete, jesus, I'm going to, fuck," Patrick groans and he pushes his hips down tightly against Pete's, moving in short sharp bursts now, instead. Pete's not there yet, not ready and he waits until Patrick rolls off him to get up. He doesn't know what he's doing, but he's not going to be a solo show for Patrick. "Hey, hey, where are you going? Come back here." Patrick says, his breathing still a little heavy and his voice in shreds. Pete leans back on his elbows and watches as Patrick unbuttons his jeans and slides one hand into Pete's boxers. Patrick pulls his thumb over the head, slicking the pre-come down the side of Pete's dick and chuckling as Pete thrusts into his hand.

"Patrick, Patrick, let me..." Pete says, and Patrick circles his hand around Pete's shaft, pressing close enough that Pete can feel his breath on his neck, and lets Pete thrust up into his hand. His thrusts get more erratic quicker than Pete expected, but it's good, it feels good that Patrick's still close to him. When he comes, Patrick presses a kiss to his shoulder and tightens the circle of his hand just a little. Pete moans out and lets himself push through his climax.

Patrick curls into Pete for a moment before getting off the bed and digging through his drawers to find a pair of clean boxers. He finds them and heads off to the bathroom. Pete feels strangely let down, that he doesn't get to see that just yet, but he understands. It's a personal thing, changing, and they've only just got to this point. Pete finds his own boxers and waits by the door for Patrick to come out. It doesn't take him that long, but Pete feels colder and stupider with every second that passes.

When the door opens, Patrick's blushing and is trying to cover himself up, which Pete just hates. He pulls Patrick's hands away and presses a delicate kiss to his jaw. Patrick smiles gently at him and pulls away, walking towards the bed. Pete ducks into the bathroom and by the time that he's done changing, Patrick's almost completely dressed. Pete frowns, but looks at the clock. They've got about fifteen minutes before they have to leave and they've got to get something to eat before that. Pete gets dressed and presses himself to Patrick's side as they walk out of the hotel and towards the theatre. It's a little different than the night before, and it's so much better.

**

When they get back to the hotel after the performance, Pete is ready to drop. Patrick's still running on the adrenaline of the performance, but he's starting to wear down and he understands how Pete can just strip down and flop into bed without really moving. Patrick goes to wash his face and brush his teeth and by the time he gets out, Pete's asleep. His hair is sticking up where he'd rolled over and the eye liner that's already smudged it now in a line down his cheek. Patrick laughs and change into his pyjamas - a t-shirt and pj bottoms - and curls into bed next to Pete. He shakes the bed a little as he gets in and Pete shuffles closer, pressing himself against Patrick side and Patrick sighs, letting himself drift off to sleep.

He wakes up to too bright sunlight and the musty smell that he's been waking up to all week. He hates it, but only the window in the bathroom actually opens, so there's not much he can do about it. The strange thing is that neither him or Pete smell as bad as the room does, but he puts it down to not knowing what happens at night.

He gets up to take a piss and he walks back into the room, expecting just to get back into bed. Of course, Pete screws up his plans all the time, why should now be any different? He's lying in the bed, his chest bare, as he was pressed against Patrick and Patrick had kicked the blanket off to the side to get out of bed. And there, in his arms, is Wumper. Patrick stares for a little while. He knew that Pete had had the toy, but he looks like he's been sleeping with it for longer than just the few hours that they'd slept for. He looks comfortable, almost content, which is strange. Patrick has never seen Pete content. He's always been some kind of negative, and Patrick hates that.

As Patrick climbs back into the bed, a smile spreads across his face. He turns into Pete, tucking one leg between Pete's and sliding as close as he can. He presses his face into Pete's neck and breathes.

From now on, all he does is just breathe.