Work Text:
Patrick awoke to Pete gently nudging him awake; slowly blinking the sleep from his eyes.
“Hm?” Patrick responded as well as he could, being half asleep, not long before his heavy-lidded eyes adjusted to the dark room; he figured Pete couldn’t sleep.
“So… we’ve been hanging out a lot the past few years and… I don’t know like... do you like me?”
Patrick rolls over, taking the sheets in a wrap with him and glances up at Pete, with a half-assed ‘are-you-shitting-me’ expression.
“Pete, I mARRIED YOU.”
“Yeah, but did you marry me as a friend, or like, a husband? Unclear.”
“Both. My best friend is my husband. And frankly, I don't know if that was such a good idea.” He says with a sleep-ridden smile.
“I mean, from your point of view, I would doubt that idea too. This Pete guy sounds like an ass.” Pete says in a low tone. Patrick could sense Pete's own smile on his face in the dimness.
“Oh, he is, but he's my ass.” He says, as Pete’s hand moves around his middle, warm and soft. He hugs him into his chest, comfortable and sharing each other's body heat. Pete entangled his legs with Patrick's, putting his cold feet between Patrick's warmer calves stealing his heat.
“‘Damn it, Pete, your feet are so cold. I swear you're just using me for my body heat.” A weak laugh escapes him as he scrunches up more.
“That's why you married me,” Patrick says with a dramatic gasp.
“It was only a matter of time before you found out, I always had a feeling you knew deep down,” he says in a loud whisper. Giggles die down, and a hush falls over the room, and there’s only the sound of soft breathing. Pete’s eyes are bleary and clouded with thought, heavy bags under them. Patrick could tell he’s been trying to tire himself, he never really can on these now rare sleepless occasions. There’s that tenseness present, and he takes Pete’s rough hand and squeezes it. They might not be able to read each others’ minds, but they understand each other well enough that neither needs to say anything.
Patrick raises his eyebrows, question in his eyes and a small smile. Pete rolls his eyes and nuzzles into Patrick’s shoulder, his fading bleach blond hair inches from Patrick’s nose. There was that recognizable Pete-like smell, and the setting was all too familiar once again. After a few minutes of soft, slightly gruff sleepy singing, Patrick felt Pete go limp and his breathing even out. He smiles big, cradling Pete to his chest, drifting back off into his own sleep once more.