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Fall Out Boy was on tour for their new album, Infinity On High and Pete was basically an energetic puppy.
"Dude! Chill!" Patrick shouted, getting sick of his boyfriend's pacing.
"But I'm super pumped for the show tonight!" He whined.
"I'd offer to fuck you if I thought it would calm you down," Joe grumbled.
"Only Patrick gets my ass!" Pete shouted, flopping down onto Patrick's lap. "I'm tired," he muttered before falling asleep.
"Holy shit," Joe laughed. "Good luck man. We need to be at sound check in less than twenty." He just kept laughing before leaving the bus.
"Come on, wake up," Patrick whispered, poking Pete's sides.
"Is Trohman gone?" Pete muttered.
"Yup." Pete's eyes shot open and he moved to sit next to Patrick, wrapping his arms around the singer's waist. He leaned up and kissed Patrick's cheek, before nuzzling his nose into his neck. "Okay no, you're not getting into my pants," Patrick laughed, grabbing and stopping Pete's wandering hand. "We have to head to sound check anyway."
"But Lunchbox," Pete whined, pouting at Patrick.
"Maybe later, if you're lucky," Patrick whispered, kissing his boyfriend, before running off the bus. Pete laughed and ran after him.
~~**~~
Pete was all over Patrick during the show, as per usual, and the fans loved it. They were in the middle of Hum Hallelujah and Pete was nuzzling against the back of his neck. "I sing the blues and swallow them too," he sang, and then turned around to peck Pete's lips, before pushing him away. The fans practically exploded, and Pete cackled as he skipped over towards Joe. "We're gonna play something a little older," Pete said into his microphone once the song was over. They immediately started playing A Little Less Sixteen Candles. "I don't blame you, for being you, but you can't blame me for --" Pete had chosen that moment to swing his bass over his shoulder, ready to catch it as it came back around, but it didn't. "OW FUCK!" Patrick hissed, falling to his knees and clutching his head. They stopped playing and Pete rushed over to Patrick.
"Oh shit," he muttered. "Rick, you okay?" Patrick just groaned and clutched a cut on the side of his.
"At least that was the last song, right?" He joked weakly. They could hear Andy and Joe saying something to the audience, before the stage went dark. They helped Patrick take his guitar off and techs came out to grab both his guitar and Pete's bass, before Pete helped Patrick to his dressing room.
"Call an ambulance!" He yelled to Dirty.
"Pete it's just a cut," Patrick laughed.
"You're going to the hospital," Pete insisted.
Patrick sighed, "Dirty just get me a first aid kit, and like a medic or something." Dirty nodded and left to do just that.
"Patrick--"
"Pete stop, I'll be fine," Patrick insisted.
Pete sighed and kissed the top of Patrick's head. "Okay, okay," he conceded. "I just feel bad."
"It's not your fault the bass strap broke," Patrick told him as the medic entered the dressing room. Pete held his hand the whole time he was getting his cut checked.
"You don't have a concussion luckily and the cut should heal soon," the medic told him before packing up and leaving.
"Sorry," Pete mumbled again. Patrick stood up and hugged him tightly, laying his head on Pete's chest. Pete returned the gesture and rested his chin on Patrick's shoulder. "Love you Rickster."
"Love you too Petey," Patrick murmured.