Sunshine and Eye Daggers- Chapter 7
Yeah, I suck for taking too long. Don’t hate me. Also, great love for
megyal who is my relieving the stress on my previous beta, she's dolly like that.
Title: Sunshine and Eye Daggers- Chapter 7
Author:
lovelyloveleave
Pairing: Patrick/Pete
Rating: G and R
Summary: Annoying!Pete and Crabby!Patrick AU college fic. Hangovers! Bedsharing!
Disclaimer: fictional
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
you can go, I'll be here in your bed, sleeping.
Pete woke up in his bed again, but didn’t roll out of it this time, though the pain in his head more than made up for what would’ve been the pain in his ass. Checking the time he found it was only 7; he could probably sleep for another 30 minutes and still be at class on time to get coffee for... oh wait.
Pete dug into the fuzzy memories of the night before to find that, yes, Patrick did in fact get so drunk last night that he couldn’t even properly describe where he lived.
Of course, Joe had just pushed them both out of the car when he got to Pete’s place and driven off quickly.
So that would put Patrick... Pete looked around (it was easy when you only had one room)...uh, nowhere to be found? The sound of running water clued Pete in and he got down from the bed to walk over to the door to the bathroom. “You’re not puking in my tub, are you?”
There was a grunt from the other side of the door, before it opened and Patrick, looking even more grumpy than ususal (which Pete found terribly endearing), stepped out.
“I lost my hat.”
“Huh?”
“My hat! I think I left it in Joe’s car.”
“You remember Joe’s car?”
“Shut up, Pete.”
Pete grinned and pushed past Patrick to get into the bathroom, “You sure are chipper this morning, Baldy.”
Patrick’s hand shot up to his hair and his mouth started to open but Pete was already closing the bathroom door.
When he emerged feeling much less like hell and smelling minty five minutes later, Pete thought Patrick would be poised right outside the door, possibly with some piano wire. He was surprised when he spotted the lump in his bed and walked over to prod the sleeping boy.
“Why are you in my bed?”
Patrick didn’t open his eyes, “I wasn’t about to go back to sleep on the floor. It’s cold down there.”
“Why would you go back to sleep at all? You don’t want to be late to Classics, Patty, you’ll ruin your perfect attendance.”
“I’m not going. You go for once and I’ll get the notes from you.”
Pete sighed, “When are you going to realize that, seriously, all that crap is in the online archives?”
“Well then, you can go and annoy somebody for ten minutes straight until you get bored and go off to do whatever it is you do, but I’m going to be sleeping here.”
“Aww, Patty, you know I only want to annoy you,.” Pete falsettoed in a girlish voice.
Patrick didn’t answer and Pete poked him to make sure he hadn’t gone to sleep again. He groaned and rolled over against the wall and Pete went on:, “See here’s my issue.,”
“Just one, Pete?”
Pete ignored the muffled comment.
“I am hung over and sore. And there is someone in my bed. Which I would like to be in.”
Patrick stayed silent again so Pete climbed on the bed and started poking at his back. Patrick must’ve been either dead asleep or doing a really good job of ignoring the jabs because he remained quiet, breathing slowly.
Giving up, Pete crawled under the blankets and lay next to Patrick so they were back to back and went to sleep again.
+
So, I realize this story isn’t nearly as slashtastic as most of these comm’s normal fare, and all I know I took a very long time to update, so, I have a little peace offering. This started as a sentence in something else I was writing, but ended up its own little porny drabble.
Pete shifted in the bed, closer to the heat of Patrick’s body, even though he was already sweatstuck to the sheets. But Pete liked the sound of Patrick’s breathing and the sex smell that hung around him. It was comforting.
They had fought earlier.
They had fought and then they had fucked.
It was always great like that, Patrick still working out the vestiges of his anger, Pete just wanting to make it up to him. Getting what he deserved never felt so good as when it was Patrick holding his hips down a little too firmly or smacking his ass a little too hard. And when Patrick came it would be a double release, the last traces of the fight melting into the mattress.
In the afterglow, it was always easy to remember that they loved each other. Patrick would forgive or forget and Pete would promise not to do whatever he did to start the fight. Except he would, because it was always good, but that’s when it was great.
They would sleep; or Patrick would pass out and Pete would curl around him and breathe their smell, trying to get their inhales and exhales synchronized until he ended up falling asleep without meaning to.
megyal who is my relieving the stress on my previous beta, she's dolly like that.
Title: Sunshine and Eye Daggers- Chapter 7
Author:
lovelyloveleave
Pairing: Patrick/Pete
Rating: G and R
Summary: Annoying!Pete and Crabby!Patrick AU college fic. Hangovers! Bedsharing!
Disclaimer: fictional
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6
you can go, I'll be here in your bed, sleeping.
Pete woke up in his bed again, but didn’t roll out of it this time, though the pain in his head more than made up for what would’ve been the pain in his ass. Checking the time he found it was only 7; he could probably sleep for another 30 minutes and still be at class on time to get coffee for... oh wait.
Pete dug into the fuzzy memories of the night before to find that, yes, Patrick did in fact get so drunk last night that he couldn’t even properly describe where he lived.
Of course, Joe had just pushed them both out of the car when he got to Pete’s place and driven off quickly.
So that would put Patrick... Pete looked around (it was easy when you only had one room)...uh, nowhere to be found? The sound of running water clued Pete in and he got down from the bed to walk over to the door to the bathroom. “You’re not puking in my tub, are you?”
There was a grunt from the other side of the door, before it opened and Patrick, looking even more grumpy than ususal (which Pete found terribly endearing), stepped out.
“I lost my hat.”
“Huh?”
“My hat! I think I left it in Joe’s car.”
“You remember Joe’s car?”
“Shut up, Pete.”
Pete grinned and pushed past Patrick to get into the bathroom, “You sure are chipper this morning, Baldy.”
Patrick’s hand shot up to his hair and his mouth started to open but Pete was already closing the bathroom door.
When he emerged feeling much less like hell and smelling minty five minutes later, Pete thought Patrick would be poised right outside the door, possibly with some piano wire. He was surprised when he spotted the lump in his bed and walked over to prod the sleeping boy.
“Why are you in my bed?”
Patrick didn’t open his eyes, “I wasn’t about to go back to sleep on the floor. It’s cold down there.”
“Why would you go back to sleep at all? You don’t want to be late to Classics, Patty, you’ll ruin your perfect attendance.”
“I’m not going. You go for once and I’ll get the notes from you.”
Pete sighed, “When are you going to realize that, seriously, all that crap is in the online archives?”
“Well then, you can go and annoy somebody for ten minutes straight until you get bored and go off to do whatever it is you do, but I’m going to be sleeping here.”
“Aww, Patty, you know I only want to annoy you,.” Pete falsettoed in a girlish voice.
Patrick didn’t answer and Pete poked him to make sure he hadn’t gone to sleep again. He groaned and rolled over against the wall and Pete went on:, “See here’s my issue.,”
“Just one, Pete?”
Pete ignored the muffled comment.
“I am hung over and sore. And there is someone in my bed. Which I would like to be in.”
Patrick stayed silent again so Pete climbed on the bed and started poking at his back. Patrick must’ve been either dead asleep or doing a really good job of ignoring the jabs because he remained quiet, breathing slowly.
Giving up, Pete crawled under the blankets and lay next to Patrick so they were back to back and went to sleep again.
+
So, I realize this story isn’t nearly as slashtastic as most of these comm’s normal fare, and all I know I took a very long time to update, so, I have a little peace offering. This started as a sentence in something else I was writing, but ended up its own little porny drabble.
Pete shifted in the bed, closer to the heat of Patrick’s body, even though he was already sweatstuck to the sheets. But Pete liked the sound of Patrick’s breathing and the sex smell that hung around him. It was comforting.
They had fought earlier.
They had fought and then they had fucked.
It was always great like that, Patrick still working out the vestiges of his anger, Pete just wanting to make it up to him. Getting what he deserved never felt so good as when it was Patrick holding his hips down a little too firmly or smacking his ass a little too hard. And when Patrick came it would be a double release, the last traces of the fight melting into the mattress.
In the afterglow, it was always easy to remember that they loved each other. Patrick would forgive or forget and Pete would promise not to do whatever he did to start the fight. Except he would, because it was always good, but that’s when it was great.
They would sleep; or Patrick would pass out and Pete would curl around him and breathe their smell, trying to get their inhales and exhales synchronized until he ended up falling asleep without meaning to.