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“‘m not a baby.” Patrick whined, cuddling closer to Pete as he gently worked his pacifier in his mouth.
Pete chuckled and ran his fingers through the boy’s strawberry blonde hair. “Of course you’re not just a baby, Trick. You’re my pretty baby boy, hmm?”
Patrick blushed and turned his head into Pete’s side, whatever words he said next being muffled by the fabric in front of him.
"What’d you say, squirt?" Pete asks, looking down at his baby boy.
"I says ‘uh-huh’" Patrick turned back around and whispered, quickly retreating again.
Pete smiled, then leaned down to kiss Patrick on the top of his head. Patrick squeaked but didn’t try to pull back at the kiss.
He remembers when they both started this, and at the time it had merely been a comforting mechanism Patrick used after tour. Pete had caught him slipping headspace sometime after the Black Clouds tour and had practically taken care of him ever since. He also remembers how hard it was for Patrick during the hiatus, how he had wanted to slip during Soul Punk but he didn’t want to go to Pete because duh, they were on hiatus? But it didn’t completely stop him from calling Pete, just once, mere months before Fall Out Boy came back together.
"D-daddy," Patrick hurriedly murmured into the phone that night, and it threw Pete seriously off guard, because then he was sputtering "I’m sorry uhm please don’t hang up Pete I’m-"
"Baby boy…."Pete shakily hummed into the phone, a feeling overtaking him unlike the one he usually got when taking care of Bronx. "No need to be sorry about talking to Daddy. What’s the matter?"
"I-I’m scared."
"Why?" Pete’s free hand curled into the duvet he was laying under as he became tense.
"I wanna be…littler? But you’re not here, Daddy! What if somebody comes in and sees me?" Patrick’s voice was barely a whisper now, and Pete could almost tell that he was close to tears. He needed a solution, quickly.
"Trick baby, can you put your phone on speaker for Daddy?"
"Uh-huh…" Patrick’s voice trembled, followed by the sound becoming slightly magnified on Pete’s end.
"Good job!" Pete figured that Patrick needed the encouragement, and he continued. "Do you have anything with you that would make you feel littler? Like your pacifier? Or Alligator?"
Pete wondered that night if Patrick had kept his two most prized objects still, because he knew that Patrick had probably wanted to separate completely from the band at a point and may have gotten rid of anything related, including that. Especially that.
"I gots Alligator, Daddy." Patrick replies, and Pete nearly sighs aloud in relief.
"Okay, that’s great, Patrick. Now, be truthful and tell me if you’re feeling sleepy or not?"
"A wittle," and Patrick’s definitely slipping. "I talked to Bwendon foreveeer, Daddy."
"Brendon can definitely talk his mouth off, hm? Alright, now you should get under the blankets, all nice and snug like a bug for me. Keep the phone on the pillow next to you."
Pete pauses and waits as he hears shuffling and small grunts as Patrick gets himself under the blankets. “All done, Daddy!”
"You’re always such a good baby for Daddy, aren’t you?" Pete coos, and props himself up against the headboard of his own bed, pulling his brand-new Kindle from his night-stand drawer. "How would you like a bedtime story? Any one you want."
He hears Patrick giggle tiredly from the other side of the line, followed up by what was probably a mighty yawn. “Wead me the stowry ‘bout the ballewina.”
Of course Patrick wanted that story, Pete thought as he went through the store on his Kindle. Patrick seemed nearly enchanted by the short story of the girl who danced all the time, but broke her ankle the day before her recital. “Of course, Trick.”………
"Daddy, Daddy, Daddy!" Pete’s thoughts are interrupted by Patrick’s frantic wiggling in his lap.
"What is it, Trick?" Pete smiles, before realizing that he smells the scent of smoke and the oven’s probably on fire. “Well shit!”
Patrick merely giggles as Pete dashes out of the room to extinguish the fire, truly grateful to have such a great friend as well as Daddy in Pete.