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Pete knows it’s been a rough day for Patrick when the younger man comes practically crawling into his bed in the hotel room they’re sharing for the night, taking Ally-Gator from his bag and burrowing his way under Pete’s arm without so much as a word.
They’d been separated most of the day; Pete with Joe handling some interview the magazine had inexplicably not wanted Patrick for, and Patrick had been in the studio with Andy going over final touches for a track they’d been working on for a while. Pete did know that Patrick had had a hell of a day in the studio because shit kept going wrong with the recording equipment, and Andy had been texting him most of the details, as if anticipating this outcome to occur.
Pete supposes if anyone besides himself would know what would send Patrick spiraling into his headspace, it’d be Andy Hurley.
So he doesn’t say anything in response to Patrick’s actions, just wraps his arm around his shoulders to pull him close, and texts Gabe for a little bit longer before he finally locks the screen to black and tosses it somewhere in the direction of his dirty pile of clothes. He’ll check on it later, when Patrick’s fast asleep.
”Hey, Tricky. You want to cuddle with a movie or do you just want to be quiet for tonight?” Pete likes to give Patrick at least a couple options when he’s Little like this.
Pete might seem like he’d be a lax Caregiver — and at one time, when they’d started doing this he had been — but between taking care of Patrick off and on for the better part of twenty years and having raised his own biological kids, he’s found a rhythm of things and he knows his limits.
So, Patrick’s bedtime routine will be standard; cuddles in some form or another, prying him off and out of bed enough to get him fed, pajamas, teeth brushing with face washing, and then bed before midnight if they’re lucky.
But Pete will at least allow Patrick some options. The nature of their cuddles and the food he’ll eat later. He likes it this way, and Patrick loves the routine even more though he’ll never openly admit it.
”Movie please, Daddy.” Patrick finally answers after a long moment, fingers of the hand not clutching Ally-Gator lazily tracing the keyhole tattoo on Pete’s lower arm.
Pete lets Patrick mess with his arm a little longer before he moves to grab the iPad that’s sitting on the nightstand. The big TV would in theory be more convenient, but he’s logged into Disney Plus on his iPad, not on the hotel TV. He can tell Patrick’s small enough that a badly timed channel switch would send his anxiety spiking, and they do not need that right now.
It doesn’t take long before Pete’s got Muppets Take Manhattan going, and Patrick’s softly humming as they watch. They’ve watched this movie plenty of times before, but it’s one of Patrick’s comfort movies when he’s small and exhausted, and it’s doing the work of getting him more unwound.
The movie’s even working enough that Patrick lets Pete escape his cuddly clutches to retrieve their leftover Chinese take out from the night before from the mini fridge along with some lighter kid friendly food if the Little decides that General Tso’s is too heavy for a late dinner.
Turns out, it was. Patrick scrunches his nose up cutely at the leftovers, making grabby hands at the goldfish and sliced apples Pete offers instead until they’re handed to him near the end of the movie. Pete internally awws at Patrick pretending to feed slices of apple to Ally-Gator as he eats at his leftover shrimp fried rice.
The evening is pretty laid back after that; cuddles, dinner and a movie unburdening Patrick significantly enough that he’s fairly agreeable to the bedtime routine that follows.
If he has to be convinced by tickling to get out of bed so he can actually do the routine, Pete doesn’t complain, more happy to see his boy giggly and squirmy in the hotel bed than anything. More so when he sticks practically to his side the whole time they’re getting ready for bed. Patrick does stay mostly nonverbal besides, but that’s okay too. Pete can only imagine how many words were exchanged with inanimate objects that could have cared less earlier that day anyways.
By the time they’re back under the covers with the only light on in the room being the nightstand light, Patrick’s yawning cutely, sending a blast of minty fresh breath in Pete’s direction.
“Story, please?” Patrick asks simply, laying his head on Pete’s chest the moment he’s comfortable in the bed.
Pete hands him a green pacifier with a nod, then reaching for the displaced iPad again as Patrick sticks the soother in his mouth and sighs audibly as he melts against Pete.
It's a cliche of Pete if he thinks about it too hard, but picking Where The Wild Things Are to read is a no brainer. It was one of his favorites as a kid, and one he’d read to Patrick for as long as they’d been doing this together. By this point it was as much comfort reading as the movie they just watched was a comfort movie.
Patrick doesn’t interact much with the book itself as Pete reads; he never really has, not with this particular book. He always stayed fairly attentive through most of it, choosing to let it all sink in everytime.
Everytime it was read, Pete would choose to elaborate more on the Wild Rumpus itself to fill in for time, and just because his descriptions of the antics of the Wild Things as led by King Max never ceased to amuse Patrick, who would always huff some in laughter at some of the more outrageous describings.
By the time Max had traveled back home from the Wild Things and found his still hot supper, Patrick was all but asleep.
Pete locks the iPad and gently tosses it back aside before turning off the final light, wrapping his arms around Patrick as he gets comfortable in the darkness washed over the hotel room.
”Goodnight, Tricky. I love you.” Pete whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Patrick’s soft hair.
Patrick only snuffles in reply, on the brink of sleep, and Pete can’t help but smile to himself as he soon follows into dreamland.
end.