Chapter Text
You’ve found him. You’ve finally found your God. Patrick Hockstetter. He went missing a few weeks ago. Or was it months? You don’t remember. Every single day just blurred together after he went missing. You missed him. Bad. You needed your God to survive, just like how the human body needs water to survive. Patrick was your God. Your God. No one else's. Only yours. And you held him to that whenever he looked at a few girls. He made you obsessive. Well, not stalker-obsessive, just obsessive. You knew he only dated you for your body, and you only dated him for his looks. But after a while, you started to catch a few feelings. You could never tell or show him those feelings. He’d just break up with you. So you never did. But then he went missing. You cried for what felt like weeks after everyday. You cried after every school day. You cried every weekend. Richie is your cousin, and you have lived with him and Marge since your parents died in a house fire. You didn’t care if Richie could hear. Or Marge. You just cried for Patrick. Once, Marge tried to comfort you, but it was of no use. Now, Patrick had broken your window and was now standing next to your bed, breathing heavily. Was he now a zombie? You smelt him before you saw him. Richie was at Bill’s to have a sleepover with the other Losers (including Ben and Mike), and Marge was out of town, so you had the house for yourself. You looked up at Patrick.
“Patrick?” You whispered, sitting up and taking his hands in yours.
Normally, if you held Patrick’s hand, he’d slap you. Now, he just whined softly, trying to talk. The way he whined sounded like he saw the self-harm scars that you did after he went missing, or saw your tear stains from crying too much. He was silently asking if you were okay. You nodded softly, but he looked like he didn’t believe you.
You stood up and hugged him, weeping into the nape of his neck for what felt like days. He placed his hands on your back and the back of your upper thigh, where your thigh and ass met. You pulled back after a bit and gave him a peck on his lips, but he must’ve thought that it was gonna be a full kiss, so he gave you tongue. You kissed him back hungrily, and some of his tongue was peeling off, but you didn't care. He was your God. He went missing and then found himself back to you. Tears ran down your cheek as you kissed him. Patrick was so into it that you had to push him away. You finally got him off after a few growls and some scratches that didn’t break skin.
“Come on, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up. Fuck, I’ve missed you.” You brought him to the bathroom, the one in your room since it was closest, and sat him on the toilet. You sat on the toilet in between his legs and kissed his cheek. You didn’t care that his skin was peeling off or that he had bite marks that looked like a shark did it. All you cared about was that your God was safe. And he was.
You stood up, starting to take off his clothes, peeling off his shirt, then his boots. His boots were practically molded to his feet. Then you took off his pants and underwear and tried to get him into the bathtub. He growled and scratched. He broke skin.
“Fine! I’ll just bathe with you,” you said, starting to get undressed. Once you were undressed, you pulled Patrick into the tub. He finally got in, and you turned on the water. Waiting for it to get warm, then, once it did, you plugged it. You got some bubble bath and some other things to make him not smell like piss and shit. You turned off the water once it got to a certain level and poured the stuff into the bath before setting them down and getting in the tub. You sat between Patrick’s legs and began to wash his body gently. Starting with his arms and ending with his legs. On your knees, you put shampoo in your hands and wash his hair. You loved his hair. Even if it was greasy every time you and your boys hung out to go to the quarry or the junkyard to check on Avery or just smoke and talk.
Patrick put his hands on the dip of your hips; they fit perfectly there. You started to tear up. You finished with his hair and noticed his earring was still there. You guys had gotten matching piercings since Vic had dared you to while playing Truth or Dare, and everyone agreed. Your hand met his earring, then the hand on his earring found your matching earring. You rest on your knees. Starting to wash your body and hair while Patrick just watched in awe, his hands were now on your thighs, his thumb gently rubbing your inner thigh.
Tears roll down your cheek as you felt him try to comfort you by rubbing his thumb on your thigh. He was like a child trying to comfort you without knowing how to. So you decided to treat him like a child until he could act like an adult. Y’know? Until he could talk and do things by himself. You finished washing yourself and helped him up. Getting out of the tub, you helped him put his clothes on. You stole clothes from Belch, Vic, Hank (Henry), and Patrick himself, so you put his clothes on him before putting yours on and laying him down on your bed. You lie next to him before wrapping your arms around his waist and hooking a leg in his, falling asleep with him in your arms. You knew Richie’d be home by tomorrow, but you’d just hide Patrick in the closet. Pat was home, and he was yours.