Fic: Don't want to miss a thing, Pete/Patrick
Written for an anon_lovefest prompt (Pete/Patrick. Just some domestic fluff where Pete is all sappy and in love and feels like he's gonna burst of happiness just by thinking he sleeps next to Patrick every night..) while I was waiting in the laundromat.
PG for swearing. 745 words.
Pete still doesn't sleep much, but now it's not the scurrying fear and loneliness and whywhywhy that keep him up.
Now when he waits for daylight to come back, he watches Patrick while he dreams. "You know that's creepy, right?" Patrick says, every couple days. It doesn't take long to get to the point where he doesn't even open his eyes first to see that Pete's staring at him. It's nice to have new habits, and Pete's happy to settle into these. He just smiles when Patrick grumbles, moves in closer and reminds his hands of the feel of Patrick's skin once he doesn't have to worry about waking him up.
Pete keeps busy at night. He texts and tweets, writes a hundred different versions of Sleeping Beauty to pass the hours between nodding off for naps. He wants a bigger obstacle than some prickly bushes, so he adds a dragon. Then he decides he doesn't like slaying dragons every night, so usually he talks his way in. Sometimes he doesn't time true love's kiss quite right, or it gets a little carried away, but he always lets Patrick go right back to sleep when that happens, and Patrick doesn't complain in the morning. He plans. He makes lots of plans, and doesn't even call the tangle of ideas hopes or wishes in his head, because it's all within reach as long as he keeps Patrick with him.
Some days, when he can tell Patrick's about to wake up, Pete tries holding his breath, or evening it out, or snoring a little, playing 'possum. Its possible that Patrick can just tell when Pete's awake. Patrick should know him that well.
(It's more likely that Pete's predictable, but Pete hates the thought of being predictable, so he doesn't dwell on that.)
It's not his fault that he doesn't know what he looks like when he sleeps; not even ten years of practice pretending has made him any better at it. How are you supposed to learn that anyway? Videotaping them while they sleep also got vetoed under the don't be creepy rule, even when Pete tried to set up for-real security cameras in the house. ("No cameras facing the bed, Pete. Not ever.")
"Stop being creepy," Patrick says, this most-recent morning.
Pete still gets goofy with sleep-deprivation, and a little manic, sometimes, but now when he has a crazy thought like I want to suck on Patrick's lip it's just a matter of time, not a matter of trying to banish the impulse. Pete's impulses are like zombie vampire terminators. They don't stay dead, and he's learned it's just easier to let them loose.
Pete strokes a finger along Patrick's nose. "I want to carve your face on a pumpkin."
" 's not stopping being creepy." Patrick untangles one arms from the sheet to push Pete's hand away from his face.
"At least I don't want to carve your face like a pumpkin," Pete says, and Patrick opens his eyes and turns toward Pete with a vaguely horrified expression that's chasing the sleepy one away.
"t'hell, Pete? 'm billing the label for the therapy I'm gonna need." Patrick rolls over onto his stomach and buries his head under his pillow. His, "Shit, man, no more slasher flicks," is muffled but audible.
"Okay, no horror movies, no pumpkins." Pete slides closer to Patrick, wraps himself around as much the mattress and bunched covers permits. "Apple picking? Hay ride?"
"Don't want to eat anything grown in LA," Patrick says. "No fucking way are we driving far enough to find a real orchard."
"You're right," Pete says. "We should totally be in New York for the fall."
Patrick shoves the pillow off his head and opens his eyes enough to squint at Pete across the four inches separating their noses. "That... is not at all what I said."
"We've never been apple-picking," Pete points out.
"We've also never gone skinny-dipping in Lake Michigan in January," Patrick says. "There's a reason people don't do things."
Because they're boring, Pete thinks. Because they don't care enough, and they don't try, and it all goes to shit. Pete? Is a trier. He cares. Patrick is not going to get bored of him.
"I'm not going to get bored, Pete." Patrick says.
Maybe Patrick does know him that well. Pete closes his eyes, and he can feel Patrick relax from grumpy to sleepy again.
Patrick does know him that well, and he'll stay, anyway.
PG for swearing. 745 words.
Pete still doesn't sleep much, but now it's not the scurrying fear and loneliness and whywhywhy that keep him up.
Now when he waits for daylight to come back, he watches Patrick while he dreams. "You know that's creepy, right?" Patrick says, every couple days. It doesn't take long to get to the point where he doesn't even open his eyes first to see that Pete's staring at him. It's nice to have new habits, and Pete's happy to settle into these. He just smiles when Patrick grumbles, moves in closer and reminds his hands of the feel of Patrick's skin once he doesn't have to worry about waking him up.
Pete keeps busy at night. He texts and tweets, writes a hundred different versions of Sleeping Beauty to pass the hours between nodding off for naps. He wants a bigger obstacle than some prickly bushes, so he adds a dragon. Then he decides he doesn't like slaying dragons every night, so usually he talks his way in. Sometimes he doesn't time true love's kiss quite right, or it gets a little carried away, but he always lets Patrick go right back to sleep when that happens, and Patrick doesn't complain in the morning. He plans. He makes lots of plans, and doesn't even call the tangle of ideas hopes or wishes in his head, because it's all within reach as long as he keeps Patrick with him.
Some days, when he can tell Patrick's about to wake up, Pete tries holding his breath, or evening it out, or snoring a little, playing 'possum. Its possible that Patrick can just tell when Pete's awake. Patrick should know him that well.
(It's more likely that Pete's predictable, but Pete hates the thought of being predictable, so he doesn't dwell on that.)
It's not his fault that he doesn't know what he looks like when he sleeps; not even ten years of practice pretending has made him any better at it. How are you supposed to learn that anyway? Videotaping them while they sleep also got vetoed under the don't be creepy rule, even when Pete tried to set up for-real security cameras in the house. ("No cameras facing the bed, Pete. Not ever.")
"Stop being creepy," Patrick says, this most-recent morning.
Pete still gets goofy with sleep-deprivation, and a little manic, sometimes, but now when he has a crazy thought like I want to suck on Patrick's lip it's just a matter of time, not a matter of trying to banish the impulse. Pete's impulses are like zombie vampire terminators. They don't stay dead, and he's learned it's just easier to let them loose.
Pete strokes a finger along Patrick's nose. "I want to carve your face on a pumpkin."
" 's not stopping being creepy." Patrick untangles one arms from the sheet to push Pete's hand away from his face.
"At least I don't want to carve your face like a pumpkin," Pete says, and Patrick opens his eyes and turns toward Pete with a vaguely horrified expression that's chasing the sleepy one away.
"t'hell, Pete? 'm billing the label for the therapy I'm gonna need." Patrick rolls over onto his stomach and buries his head under his pillow. His, "Shit, man, no more slasher flicks," is muffled but audible.
"Okay, no horror movies, no pumpkins." Pete slides closer to Patrick, wraps himself around as much the mattress and bunched covers permits. "Apple picking? Hay ride?"
"Don't want to eat anything grown in LA," Patrick says. "No fucking way are we driving far enough to find a real orchard."
"You're right," Pete says. "We should totally be in New York for the fall."
Patrick shoves the pillow off his head and opens his eyes enough to squint at Pete across the four inches separating their noses. "That... is not at all what I said."
"We've never been apple-picking," Pete points out.
"We've also never gone skinny-dipping in Lake Michigan in January," Patrick says. "There's a reason people don't do things."
Because they're boring, Pete thinks. Because they don't care enough, and they don't try, and it all goes to shit. Pete? Is a trier. He cares. Patrick is not going to get bored of him.
"I'm not going to get bored, Pete." Patrick says.
Maybe Patrick does know him that well. Pete closes his eyes, and he can feel Patrick relax from grumpy to sleepy again.
Patrick does know him that well, and he'll stay, anyway.