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"So," Pete started, from where he was huddled into Patrick's side, barely able to breathe under the mounds of duvet and pillows, "We have a whole week off. But I was thinking like- wait, it is tomorrow right?"
Patrick nodded sleepily and curled deeper into himself like he really didn't want to be awake yet.
"Okay, tomorrow. And we have some of the money we made from tour this time round, so I was wondering if you wanted to, like, do something special? I dunno, like... one of those adventure places with rock climbing and trampolining and shit. Or we could go see a movie at the cinema? It's for you, so it's whatever you want.
Patrick rolled over to face Pete, but scrunched his eyes shut and burrowed into the pillows like he did when he didn't want to talk.
"Come on, asshole, I'm spending all my money on you, so fucking talk."
"M'tired," He groaned.
"What," Pete sighed, exasperated, "D'you wanna do tomorrow?"
Patrick made a sleepy, thoughtful sound. He was such an angel when he was sleepy, Pete mused, until he woke up and you found out what a whiny little ass he really is.
"Mnbb, i'unno. Horseback riding," He yawned.
"Horseback riding?" Patrick had never shown even a small amount of interest in anything even slightly to do with horses, and now it was the first thing he suggested, but Patrick just shrugged.
"Okay then. I'll go call that place we always drive past on the way back from your mom's and see if they've got anything we can do at short notice." It would be fine. Pete was only mildly terrified of horses.
***
"Wake uuup," Pete groaned to the limpet on his side. "Come oooon, we have to get up or we'll be late."
Patrick didn't move, loudly fake-snoring the way little kids honestly think is convincing. Pete, also, didn't move. His alarm continued to blare.
"'Nna sleep," Patrick whined, burrowing under Pete's shirt to try and escape the noise.
"No, we gotta," Pete insisted half heartedly. "We gotta, or we'll be late. Up, up, silly bear."
Patrick giggled but stayed motionless, when he was the one who wanted this in the first place. Neither of them were used to getting up so early.
Pete shoved Patrick off and rolled out of bed, righting himself before throwing the blanket off of Patrick, grabbing him before he could pull it back up, and jumping around to kind of shake him awake. When Patrick's scream shifted from entertained to scared, Pete sat him on the edge of the bed and went to the wardrobe. The heavy box was done away with, and Pete's mom, of all people, had found some extra small coat hangers and passed them on to Pete so all Patrick's clothes could be hung up.
"What'll it be, my man? You need shitty- scruffy clothes, so what about those jeans you got the grass stains on from skidding down that hill, and then this shirt?" Pete brandished the aforementioned items, and Patrick shrugged, yanking his own shirt off and making a big show of shivering violently until Pete pulled the new one over his head. They had an easy routine by now, Pete handing a pair of clean boxers to Patrick and wandering back to the closet to choose and appropriate jacket, settling on a felt lined waterproof thing, then helping Patrick wriggle out of his jeans when he put two feet in the same leg, holding each leg separately and guiding Patrick's feet into the right places, then holding the waist tightly by the belt loops and lifting Patrick into the air by them and making sure they were pulled all the way up.
"All done! Why don't you brush your teeth while I get dressed, and save me the time of doing it with you? Pleeeeease, baby boy?"
Patrick's nose squished up with displeasure but he hopped of the bed and plodded to the bathroom, leaving Pete alone with his growing anxiety. It wasn't a crippling fear, just one of those things that he'd rather not do, but Patrick wanted it.
He pulled on a garish hoodie, not that he owned a non-garish hoodie, and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to acclimatise. It's just a horse. It's not even like there's galloping, it's for little kids. It'll just be walking around but you don't even have to move.
"You done, Stumps?" Pete hummed, twirling exaggeratedly as he whirled into the bathroom and hoisted Patrick into the air, throwing him up towards the ceiling once even though he hated when Andy did the same thing. It wasn't as cute when Patrick exploded toothpaste down Pete's arm.
"I wasn't done," He said reproachfully, looking down at the foamy mess.
Pete washed off his hand and then put Patrick down to go back to their room and find a replacement for his hoodie. Patrick followed after, looking pitiful. "Sorry, Petey."
Pete laughed. "It's okay, kitten, you didn't mean to. I should probably ask before I pick you up next time, huh? But you're so cute when you get scared! S'why I always try and make you jump."
Patrick just grimaced wordlessly at the toothpaste soaked garment as Pete yanked it off and quickly replaced it with another that seemed almost identical to Patrick.
"Why'd you need so many hoodies that are all the same?"
"Why'd you need so many guitars that are all the same?"
They stared levelly at each other for a few minutes, in stalemate, until Patrick grew bored and blinked, and Pete picked him up - because his instinct to do so was almost as strong as Patrick's instinct to climb all over Pete and wrap around him whenever he was near - and went to make breakfast.
***
There was a row or horses, ponies really, lined up ready for the kids and their accompanying adults, almost all female and twice Pete's age. A guy with a clipboard was asking people their names and pointing them to their assigned steed; some, like they'd been here before, just smiled at him in greeting and hopped onto one of the animals without assistance.
Pete gulped. At least all the horses seemed to be pretty tiny and sturdy seeming - he'd been afraid that he'd get put on something huge and unruly, because he was an adult, but nothing lined up seemed too awful. Patrick's grip on his hand grew tighter. Looking down, Pete realised it was from excitement and not fear like his own, and when it was their turn to approach Clipboard Dude, Patrick gave him a winning smile and introduced himself, which he almost never did.
"Pete and Patrick?" The guy checked, and Pete wondered if he should've gone with Patrick's alias again, but everyone here was about twenty years shy of or over the band's demographic, and when Pete inevitably fell off and screamed Patrick's name instinctively, this would make it easier. "Uh, your two are right at the end. Maya should be down there to help you guys get sorted, so if you just wander down she'll help you out. She's next to the little grey mare."
"Grey means white for horses," Patrick explained to Pete, puffing his chest out proudly.
The guy grinned. "It sure does, buddy! I think you're going to be good at this. Although," He looked more carefully at Patrick, "You're a very little guy, I might ask her to bring out something a bit smaller..."
Patrick's arms started to cross, but Pete subtly tugged them back down and chided, "Be nice. Anyway, you are pretty little, Rickster."
"Not always," Patrick hissed irritably.
"When you fall off because the pony's too big, it won't matter that you're sometimes taller, so don't be a pissy baby about it, mister."
Patrick pinched him and smiled up at the man, who seemed lost in thought. "Have you ridden before?" Clipboard Dude asked eventually.
Patrick and Pete both shook their heads, and the guy nodded. "Okay. I think I'm going to get someone to bring out something more appropriate for little legs," He said kindly, then blushed. "It's kind of my fault, it sounded like he was older on the phone, but I just realised you must've been talking to his dad or whatever."
Pete stopped, remembering when he called to book. They'd asked him some questions about insurance and things, and Patrick had sad next to him and told him when asked. His voice must've been audible on the other side.
"Um, y-yeah," Pete said awkwardly.
"Sorry about it, anyway. If you head over to my friend over there, and tell her I said you need Lola bringing out for Patrick."
Pete nodded and took Patrick's hand, carefully steering them way clear of any back legs. Once the lady, presumably Maya, noticed their approach, she turned to them with a smile.
"Hey, we're," Pete coughed to clear his throat, which was cracking with nerves, "I'm Pete, and this is Patrick. We were talking to... um. The-the guy, over there and he said that, like, Patrick is too small for the pony he assigned, and he said, uh, to bring out... Lola? I, um. I think?"
Maya laughed. "I'm Maya. You don't seem like a huge fan of horses."
Pete's eyes snapped back from where they were doubtfully eyeing the horse he assumed was for him, to meet her eyes and pull an apologetic grimace. "Yeah, you got me. I'm just here for him." Pete glanced at Patrick.
"You might enjoy it. Ever ridden before?" She asked conversationally, leading them both over to the dingy brown pony meant for Pete. When he shook his head, she laughed. "You two wait here, I'll be right back with Lola." She turned on her heeled riding boot and disappeared inside the nearest stable block.
Patrick turned to Pete, and his eyes were lit up. "Oh my gosh, Petey, look at all the ponies! This is so cool, I love you," He squeaked excitedly, and Pete felt the fear subside marginally.
"You like it? You better have fun, because this cost way more money than I thought it would, I mean, seriously? I thought this sh- stuff was like, five dollars."
"Oh," Patrick blinked. "How much?"
"I'm not telling. It's my treat, and I don't want you feeling bad about it, and I'm not being rude, but I remember being your age and money seeming like a lot more than it does now, so even if it was, like, really cheap, you'd probably freak out."
Luckily at that moment, Maya reappeared with a very tiny, golden coloured little creature. It had a sweet, delicate face, and its eyes didn't seem as crazed as most horses' did to Pete.
Its legs looked like matchsticks and, when Maya halted it beside Patrick, its shoulder stood even with Patrick's head, almost perfectly proportioned for him. "This is Lola," Maya announced, handing the lead rein to Pete before he could protest. "I'm going to lift you on, okay. You're Patrick, right?"
Patrick nodded, holding his arms up like he did for Pete to lift him, and was sat down on the tiny saddle. His feet were guided into the stirrups, and Maya chatted to him about ponies while she adjusted them. Patrick seemed to know kind of a lot, and Pete wondered when he'd been learning it all, and how into this he really was. Patrick never struck Pete as a horse person, like at all, and when he was big he'd never mentioned it before, but he seemed really into it. When Pete saw the the look in Patrick's eyes as he leaned down and tenderly stroked Lola's mane, he started doing figures in his head to see if he could afford to make this a regular thing. He might be able to, if Patrick really wanted it, especially if Patrick paid half or something.
It could be considered terrifying, how far Pete was willing to go to get Patrick's eyes to light up like that as much as possible. He had to stop himself once he started wondering how much it would cost to buy the horse. The lady lead Pete to the dreaded horse, and he didn't even get the privilege Patrick did of being lifted up - he didn't think his tiny and prone-to-the-possessive boyfriend would like him being lifted up by another adult woman - so he had to awkwardly balance on the step they set out and launch himself onto the saddle.
Some things on the saddle that Pete didn't understand were adjusted, and then Maya walked back to Patrick and held onto his pony's bridle. "I'm going to walk with you, okay, Patrick? You get to lead us today, and I don't want Lola here to bolt without anyone in front of her."
Patrick made an alarmed noise.
"You okay, bab- Ricky?" Pete asked anxiously, from behind. Patrick's riding hat seemed too big for Pete and he was terrified Patrick would fall and hurt himself.
"I'm fineeee! I wanna go!"
Maya winked, and nudged Patrick's pony to life. As it moved away, Pete's stirred automatically, making him let out a Patrick-like whimper of alarm. It was going to be a long day.
***
So far, it seemed okay. They headed through a level field and looked at wildlife or something, and there was absolutely no galloping. However, when an owl, in the middle of the day, swooped out of the nearby woods, screeching like all hell, Pete's life went to shit.
His horse made a sort of horse screaming noise and turned tail, right into a hedge, whose existence the horse didn't seem to be aware of, and flipped Pete right over said hedge. While he was in the air, he caught a brief glimpse of Patrick's terrified, white face before he fell on the other side, trapped away from Patrick and aware that he was probably unable to move.
After the pain of the impact came mortification. This was the type of thing that was meant to happen to a five year old kid who kicked his pony too hard, and he could only imagine the array of disapproving moms lined up on the other side of the fence.
"Patrick," He croaked, stumbling awkwardly to his feet. His arm felt heavy and wrong, and playing soccer in his youth had given him a good idea of when something was broken. It wasn't a particularly high hedge, but he'd need both arms to get over it.
"Petey?" He heard, and then little face, looking sick with fear, popped up the other side.
"Ricky! Hey, baby, I'm okay, don't worry about me, it's all right. Are you okay?"
Patrick's eyes flickered down to Pete's crooked arm and back up, and he nodded decisively, mouth set in a hard line.
"That's good. I'm going to walk down a little further until there's a gap I can get through, okay. Can you tell the nice lady that I think my arm is broken, see if they can get an ambulance or whatever- don't freak out, it's just my arm. I'll be fine."
Patrick was visibly trembling, and Pete could only barely reach to kiss his nose softly, but it seemed to calm him.
"You go tell her that for me, kitten, and get back on your pony, and I'll be with you in just a minute."
Still silent, Patrick nodded and skittered down whatever he'd climbed on until he wasn't visible over the hedge.
***
After what felt like longer than five minutes due in part to the incessant throbbing of his arm, Pete arrived at a small gate that he could get through. The line of kids on horses had arrived first and stopped to wait for him at the gate, lead by Patrick who sat up proudly like he was trying to act braver than he was. He relaxed a little at the sight of Pete, softening completely when Pete dashed up to him and enveloped him in a one-armed hug.
Atop Lola, he was almost exactly the same height as Pete, and he grinned smugly like he was thinking the same thing. "There's a paramedic on the way," He said in a shaky voice.
Pete smiled into Patrick's hair. "Thank you, my brave knight, you. You've been such a good boy, I'm so sorry about this."
Patrick pressed closer, emboldened, and giggled. "S'okay. I was just scared, you know how I-"
"Yeah, I do. Shhhh, it's okay." Pete ran his fingers comfortingly across the chain around Patrick's neck that held his engagement ring.
Maya coughed, and Pete sprang away. "He's got a thing about injuries and illness," Hs explained, "he was just a bit shaken."
Nodding understandingly, she made a sympathetic noise. "Poor little guy. So there's a paramedic waiting back at the stables, if you can make it that far? We're basically at the end of the ride anyway, so at least you won't have to go back early. The ponies pretty much know the route by heart, and they're good at just staying in line, but I can get you on a lead rein if you're worried about only using one arm or anything."
"Oh, it's okay. What are the chances I fall of twice, right?" He laughed nervously. Probably pretty high, riding this psycho beast.
"It'll be okay, Petey," Patrick piped up from in front, "I'll look after you."
Maya made the typical 'aww-oh-my-gosh' face anyone did when faced with Patrick's most adorable comments, and took hold of Patrick's horses bridle again. "Okay everybody," She called loudly, "We're going to turn around and go back now. Everybody wheel around like me, and make sure you stay in the same order."
She pulled Lola around in a semi circle; Pete's creature, whose name he'd forgotten or maybe never known, coming into line behind it, and everyone reformed in the same line, with Maya and Patrick at the head. Pete felt guilty about ruining it for Patrick, but he still seemed enthusiastic, leaning forward and petting his pony's mane whenever he could, mumbling earnestly to Maya about everything he saw - Pete didn't envy her.
Pete caught him explaining to her about how it was like he was a knight and Pete was the princess who he'd boldly rescued, which made her laugh and Pete reply, "Excuse me, I think I would look very nice in a dress," which made Patrick get a devious look in his eye and shit, Pete hoped he knew not to say anything about that one time, because child protection, seriously. And anyway, Patrick had rocked it a thousand times better.
***
They rode the ambulance together, Patrick in Pete's lap, casting furtive glances around it and looking uncomfortable. "It's okay, silly bear, they're not even flashing the sirens. It's not an emergency, please don't worry." And Patrick nodded firmly, sitting up straighter.
"I'm a brave, fearless knight," he muttered to himself, wriggling into Pete, who chuckled and patted him lightly on the head.
"The bravest."
And then Patrick held Pete's free hand the whole way through the hospital procedures, and nodded understandingly at everything the doctors said - all Pete really understood was that it wasn't a major break and that he should thank fuck for fueled by ramen and their medical insurance.
The doctor was young and friendly, letting Patrick help apply the cast by asking him to hold bits and pieces for her and do other distracting jobs, for which Pete was eternally grateful because he was beginning to suspect that Patrick's anxiety surrounding illness spread to hospitals too. When Pete was all wrapped up, he let Patrick choose the colour and watched bemused as he kissed each of Pete's fingers while the doctor explained the details of his next appointment to him.
"Let's go home, Tricky-cakes," Pete said, then sighed. "Sorry I kind of screwed today up. I seem to always screw up this kind of-"
Patrick looked impossibly stern for a five year old, with folded arms, until Pete drifted off to silence. "I had a really good day, Petey, and it was really fun and you were really brave and you really earned to be my prince, so shh."
Pete gave a crooked smile and lifted Patrick awkwardly with his good arm. Their car was still at the riding stables and, since Pete couldn't drive, Joe was coming to pick them up and Patrick's mom, who lived nearby and had spare keys to her son's car, for some reason, was picking their car up and taking it home until someone could come and get it.
Joe pulled into the hospital parking lot, rolling the window down and looking his prospective passengers up and down. "Get in, idiots," He grinned. Pete settled Patrick into the spare car seat Joe had thoughtfully brought from the apartment, then hopped in next to him on the other side. Joe regarded Pete's cast in the mirror.
"What'd you do to him?" He teased Patrick.
"He got chucked over a hedge by a pony," Patrick smirked, and Joe joined in.
"I feel very victimised here."
"Good, you deserve it with your fucki- um, extreme victim complex." Joe's anti-swear reflexes weren't as strong as Pete's yet, but he appreciated the effort. He grabbed Patrick's reaching hand before it reached its target. "Hey! No pinching while driving please, kitten."
Patrick cowered, while Joe regarded Pete curiously. "You call him kitten? Are you guys like," he snorted, "For real? 'Cause if you get too gross I'm totally kicking you out."
Pete and Patrick sported matching blushes, but Patrick's was much more obvious.
"Sorry, Patrick," Joe laughed, sounding unsorry, "Didn't mean to embarrass you. Just turn down the... y'know. Being Pete and Patrick for a sec, for the sake of my sanity."
***
"Patrick, babe?"
Pete heard cackles from the bathroom, like someone knew exactly what was going on.
"Babe! Help, please," He tried pitiful, because it sure worked on him from Patrick, so maybe it would work in reverse, too.
Patrick emerged from the bathroom, laughing at Pete's one handed failure to remove his sweater.
"You should be more independent," He mocked Pete's treatment of him when he was small and whiny, making Pete do everything for him. "Do stuff by yourself. I'm pretty sure you can take your own sweater off."
"'Trick!" Pete stomped his foot, looking up imploringly. "That's different! I broke my arm, and let me remind you that I did it for you, ungrateful asshole."
Patrick rolled his eyes, guiding the sleeve of Pete's sweater across his bound up arm. "I'm just saying-"
"Just saying what? That you're a whiny brat?"
"Hey, that's not fair, just because it's easier when you do stuff for me..." He trailed off, realising that that was sort of the definition of whiny brat.
"Huh. Sorry. I guess it's, like, your turn for payback now or something."
"Or something," Pete mumbled fondly, pulling Patrick into a kiss and imagining his other hand in Patrick's hair or on his jaw and not hanging uselessly in a sling.
"If I look after you, will you take me horseback riding again next week?"