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It’s three days after Peter’s sold his soul to the Devil that Davy lets himself relax. It feels different. Everything feels different. He’d told Micky that, three shots deep into a self-imposed bender when Peter was in the hospital, getting checked out. Mike had wanted him to, despite not having any outward injuries. He wanted to make sure Peter was going to be okay. Besides, Mike had stopped it all in the end anyways. Micky had given Davy a pat on the back and he had shifted under his gaze, thrown his arms around him, and started to cry. They were big, walloping tears in the bar. He had had too much, trying to forget and forget and forget, but it just made him remember. And now Peter was alone in the hospital without anybody (no friends allowed - family only)! And that was making everything worse for Davy.
Mike shifted in his stool next to him, reaching across him to pat Micky’s shoulder. The bartender looked at them with a worried look in his eyes, and Mike just shook his head. He paid the tab, gathered Davy up with Micky’s help, and left. On the way back, Davy had fallen asleep in the car and woken up in his pajamas in his own bed.
When Peter came home, they’d all doted over him at dinner, fixing him his favorite cereal and patting him, hugging him, caring for him. It’s more than usual, and Peter loves it, despite being a bit overwhelmed. Mike refills his cereal without Peter having to ask or get up himself, and when Mike stands over him, Micky hooks a finger in Mike’s belt loop, sending a smile their way.
They’re all so careful with him. They don’t talk about it. Mike is talking to him a little too close while Micky does the dishes, and afterwords, while they watch TV, Micky lets his head fall onto Peter’s shoulder. Mike sets a hand on Peter’s thigh, and Davy lets his head fall back onto Peter’s knees from the floor. They’re all so close. Mike’s hand eventually leaves Peter’s thigh and snakes around the back of the couch. From the corner of Peter’s eye, he can see it touching the side of Micky’s neck, trying to settle subtly.
Eventually Micky gets up to grab his notebook, and Mike goes to grab his guitar. They go outside to practice, the soft sounds coming inside. Davy gets off of the floor and settles his head into Peter’s lap, the soft sounds of Micky and Mike from the porch. Davy just stares at him, not saying anything.
“Are you alright?” Peter asks eventually, unsure where to put his hands or move them.
“I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” Davy answers quickly, still staring.
“If you say so.” Peter says, letting Davy be.
Eventually, Mike and Micky turn in. Davy hasn’t really moved, but he’s shut his eyes. Peter knows he isn’t sleeping, but he doesn’t want to ask. Maybe he’s just really sleepy. Peter doesn’t know. He’s beautiful to look at, though. Peter’s missed him. He loves him.
Eventually, Davy opens his eyes. “I’m going to go to bed.”
“Alright. I’ll come too.” Peter says, shifting slightly. He watches Davy carefully as they get ready for bed. Matching polka dots. Orange bunny.
It’s not until Peter’s lying in the bed next to him that Davy lets the fear drop away for a moment. He’s right there, breathing in and out. He’s not sleeping, and Davy doesn’t know how to breech the gap. He can’t find the words. I wish it was me instead. I wouldn’t have let him take you. I missed you. I love you.
“Peter?”
“Yes?” Peter responds immediately, as if he’d been waiting for Davy to speak up.
Finally, Davy can’t take it any longer. “I missed you.” He whispers, unsure if Peter can hear him over the gap between them.
Peter doesn’t answer back, but instead pads out of his bed, crossing the gap between their own. He sits on the edge of Davy’s bed as if it’s his own.
“I missed you.” Davy repeats, desperately. “Peter, I was so scared I was never going to see you again.” He sits up, mirroring Peter.
“I’m here, Davy. I’ve been here all day.”
“You played so beautifully.” Davy says. He wants to touch him. To reach out and put his fingers against him.
“Goodness, Davy,” Peter says, “It wasn’t that great. But I figured it out. Didn’t I?”
Davy hugs him. Peter has to adjust himself to hug back, but it works out. Davy’s voice comes out a little mangled, and Peter can’t really hear what he’s saying. He’s crying.
“Are you okay?” Peter whispers. “Davy, it’s not that big of a deal. I’m okay.”
“Yes it is.” He says, wiping at his eyes. “I thought you were… I thought I was never going to see you again. You’re my best friend.”
“It would have been okay. You’d have had Mike and Micky.”
“It’s not the same with them.”
“It would have been.”
“No, it isn’t. Peter, it’s just not.”
“Alright.” Peter nods, a kiss on Davy’s forehead.
Davy pulls away, big brown eyes and tears and a running nose.
“Here,” Peter offers, padding to get him a tissue. “Here.” He hands it off, and Davy uses it. Instead of leaving, Peter crawls back onto Davy’s bed.
“I love you.” Davy says, a bit desperately. “Peter, I love you.”
“I know that, Davy. Mike and Micky and you all love me. I love you too.” He smiles, pats him on the shoulder.
“No, Peter, I-” He looks down at his hands, anywhere but at him. “I should have gone in place of you. I shouldn’t have let that happen to you. I’m sorry.”
“Davy,” Peter shakes his head, “There’s nothing you could have done. Besides, it’s all over now.”
“I love you.” Davy says, “I love you, Peter.”
“Love you too, Davy.”
“Stay here. With me, tonight. Stay in my bed.”
“Alright,” Peter shrugs, getting up and slotting himself immediately against Davy’s back. “I’m pretty tired anyways.”
“Oh,” Davy settles down, watching.
Peter’s still looming over him, just watching. It reminds him of when Davy had been in his lap earlier. Under his gaze, Davy shifts. He’s nervous.
“You seem very tired.” Peter whispers, his fingers brushing some of Davy’s bangs. “I scared you. Didn’t I?”
“Terrified.”
“Well, I’m here now.” Peter whispers, snuggling in. The bed is small. Nearly small enough to not accommodate two. Davy doesn’t care. He shifts and hugs himself up to Peter’s chest as soon as Peter finds a comfortable position.
“I’ll never let that happen to you again.”
“I let it happen to myself, Davy. I’m not very smart, I don’t think.”
“You are. You are smart, Peter. You’re talented, too.” Davy hums sitting up on an elbow, “I won’t have you say that about yourself.”
“It’s true, though.” Peter counters. “That’s why bad stuff happens to me. I’m not very smart.”
“No. That’s not true. If, and when, bad stuff happens to you, it’s because you have a big heart. Huge. And you believe in the good in everyone. Every single person, Peter. That’s why you’re my best friend. That’s why I fell in love with you. You’re optimistic and good in a world where sometimes none of that can be true.”
That brightens Peter up. “Oh. Thank you, Davy.”
“Yes.” Davy replies, a finger tracing around and around Peter’s heart on his chest.
“You’re the best.” Peter says, “Get some sleep, Davy.”
“Alright.” Davy leans down, kissing Peter’s cheek. It’s nearly the side of his mouth. Two centimeters, and it would be his lips. He knows he can’t. “I love you.” He lies back down, tangling himself up in Peter’s arms.
He’s here. He’s holding on to him. This is real.
They breathe together for a time, holding each other carefully and not falling asleep. They’ve memorized the other’s sleeping patterns, how it sounds, what it looks like. They’re both very restless.
“Davy, do you love me in a different way then Mike and Micky love me?”
“Of course.” It’s immediate.
“I thought, maybe, you did.” He says, turning his head down. He kisses him. Square on the lips. It’s no frills, no fanfares, no celebrations. It’s just simple. Quick, soft, and right. Like maybe they’d been doing it all the time anyways.
“I told you I loved you.” Davy says immediately as Peter’s lips leave his own.
“I know.” Peter replies, “But now I know how you really feel. The day I brought you home from meeting you on the beach, I knew. We’ve been friends for so long… but this makes me happy, Davy. I’m happy to be here. With you. I missed you.”
“I missed you too. You’re a good person, Peter. The best I know.”
“Love you.” Peter mumbles, as if they’ve said it all along in a way where it doesn’t mean everything. He shifts them, Davy’s back to his front. He tangles up their limbs and holds him tight and Davy can practically hear Peter grinning.
Davy kisses Peter’s fingers, curls his own hands around them, and smiles. It’s been an exhausting, scary, and destructive time. But this, this feels right. Peter’s arms around him and Peter’s back against him and Peter’s lips on the back of his neck. He’s so in love it’s bubbling over at the seams.