Chapter Text
Patrick sighs and rolls over in bed again so he's facing Pete. Not that Pete's in the same bed as him; no, they're just in the same hotel room.
Not that he wishes they were in the same bed or anything.
He wonders when it got to be like this. They'd never officially been together, but they used to always act like it. Holding hands, often sharing a bed, even the occasional kiss (and no, not just on the cheek). But everything just...changed after the hiatus, and during it, for that matter. And even a bit before it.
God, Patrick misses it.
The no-strings-attached...thing they had. He misses it so much.
He watches as Pete sleeps, inhaling and exhaling under the lumpy hotel comforter.
Oh, he misses it so, so much.
He sighs and burrows into his own bed. He'll deal with everything in the morning. Or, who knows? Maybe even never!
"I wish we were young like that again." Patrick mutters to himself, gripping the sheets with both hands. "Because then this would be easy. I miss it being easy."
Then he sighs again and closes his eyes, drifting into sleep.
Some magical creature must have been watching. Or a shooting star passed overhead at that exact moment. Or it was 11:11, or possibly 12:34. Or maybe he'd accidentally found a four leaf clover. Who knows?
The important thing is that as he slept, Patrick's wish came true.
Patrick certainly didn't notice.
Yet.
~*~
Patrick rolls over and mumbles something even he doesn't understand into his pillow. Something's wrong, he can feel it. It's weird, but it's (most likely) nothing he can't get away with putting off for, oh, maybe forever.
He blinks open his eyes to see Pete's already out of bed. The covers are thrown haphazardly to one side, looking like Pete had bolted from his bed. Patrick wonders vaguely why he'd have done that.
He distantly registers that Pete must be in the bathroom, because he can hear him muttering to himself really quickly in there about something unintelligible. Huh. That's kind of weird. Why would he be doing that?
"Pete?" Patrick calls out.
That's the effects of half-asleepness on his voice, right?
"Shit!" Comes the yelled reply, and something crashes to the floor in the hotel bathroom, causing a loud metallic bang.
"What's going on?" Patrick yells back, deciding, no, that's definitely not half-asleepness making his voice weird. Hey, it only sounds a little bit off anyway.
"Um, certainly something." Pete answers cryptically, an edge of worry to his voice.
Patrick frowns. "By which you mean...?"
There's a clearly audible heavy sigh, and then the bathroom door pushes open, but Pete still stays inside the bathroom. "Don't even say anything."
"Why would I-oh." Patrick replies, because Pete has just stepped out of the bathroom, and, huh, Patrick is pretty sure he wasn't 23 last time he saw him.
"Why the fuck are you 23?" He asks, rather eloquently.
"You're 18." Pete says in lieu of an actual response.
"I'm not-" Patrick pauses. Wait. Is he? One look down confirms that, yes, he totally is. "Oh. Okay." He pauses again, then really processes that fact. "Wait a second, what the fuck?"
"Yes. My thoughts exactly." Pete replies agreeably.
Holy shit, Patrick thinks, Pete looks...wow. Patrick forgot just how...well, wow Pete was when he was younger. Not that he looks bad older, just. Wow.
"No one had any alcohol or anything last night, right?" Patrick asks, frowning, because that seems like a better explanation than anything else he can come up with. He's considering getting out of bed, but that would require further accepting the situation, which, no thanks.
"Nope. Wouldn't we be hungover, anyway?" Pete shakes his head.
"Huh." Patrick says simply. That right there is exactly how this all feels to him. Huh.
"Yeah, right?" Pete moves to sit back on his own bed, and Patrick has no choice anymore but to sit up on his.
"Huh." He repeats. His clothes don't seem to sit quite right on his frame anymore. They're not too big or too small, but they're just...wrong. It's like his body isn't his, but it is. Again; huh.
"Oh my god, you're so young!" Pete suddenly exclaims, his (suddenly 23 year old) face suddenly breaking into a wild grin.
"Fuck off." Patrick replies harshly.
"No." Pete says defiantly.
And then they just sit there for a moment, the weight of what's going on right now kind of just now finally setting in.
"Andy and Joe are going to freak out." Pete points out suddenly, breaking the almost peaceful silence.
"Oh yeah. We should probably say something about this to them." Patrick nods slowly. God, he doesn't remember his hair having been this long, but okay.
"Yep." Pete agrees, popping the 'p' loudly.
There's some more, more awkward, silence before Pete finally asks, "Okay, but how did this even happen?"
"I don't-" Patrick begins, but oh, he does know. Oh. Oops.
"What?" Pete asks, furrowing his brow. "Patrick, what did you do?"
"Okay, so last night I was thinking I missed the old days, y'know?" Patrick simply neglects to mention why exactly he was thinking that. It's not really important, and he'd rather not have Pete knowing what he'd been thinking last night. "So I may have kind of said I wished that we were young like that again. Haha, whoops."
"Wow. Great job. Now we are." Pete comments dryly.
"Shut up! Wishes don't normally come true, okay? How was I supposed to know?" Patrick protests, crossing his arms.
"Hmph." Pete crosses his arms too, but then once again suddenly breaks into a grin. "Oh my god, we need to get you a trucker hat!"
"Pete!" Patrick practically screams, glaring at him.
Pete shrugs and keeps grinning.
Patrick groans. This is going to be crazy, especially if one of them isn't going to take it seriously.
Oh, fuck his life.