I Do I Did

Forty Two

Patrick woke up consumed in heat. A heat that could only mean one thing, Pete was laying in bed draped over him. Even after he'd spent the entire day out with William and Brendon, Pete still came to lay with him last night. He must not be as angry as Patrick assumed he would be.

He didn't have to open his eyes to know Pete was watching him. He could feel his gaze burning through his skin. Pete didn't sleep much so he'd probably been watching Patrick sleep for a while. He flipped onto his back so that he wasn't facing Pete directly.

"Hi." He muttered quietly. As if he were afraid speaking too loudly would upset the relaxing, morning state Pete seemed to be in.

"Good morning." His voice was free of sleep.

Patrick opened his eyes to look at him then. His intense hazel gaze stared down at him. His elbow was pushing into the bed above Patrick's pillow. His scruffy cheek was resting in his hand. He was hot in a way only Pete could be.

"How are you feeling?" He stared at the hairs growing on his chin so he wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.

"The better question would be, how are you feeling?"

Patrick's eyebrows rose. "I-I'm feeling okay I guess."

"Good." He nodded absentmindedly.

"Pete, are you okay?" Patrick reached up to rub his hand against his husband's forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No." Pete laughed lightly. Gently moving Patrick's hand from his face.

"Why are you being so nice?"

He grimaced. "Am I usually mean?"

"No. No. It's just- you were so mad yesterday about Will-"

"Shh shh shh." Pete whispered, titling his face down closer to his. His lips pressed against his briefly. "Shhh. We aren't talking about that today."

"What? Why not?"

"Do you really not know the answer to that?" He tilted his head. Watching Patrick's face.

"No?"

Pete broke into a warm smile, flipping himself onto Patrick's stomach. Causing the smaller man to exhale loudly from the sudden pressure on top of him. He didn't have time to complain before Pete was balancing his weight on his arms. Patrick's legs automatically opened to help Pete comfortably adjust himself.

"It's your birthday, baby." He whispered down at him.

"What?"

Patrick heard what he said but it didn't feel real. Maybe hearing it said twice would help his brain cope with the lost time.

"It's your birthday." He said again. The smile disappearing from his face as he looked at the concerned look on Patrick's. "You're twenty eight years old, today."

"I'm twenty eight today?"

Of course he was twenty eight. The last birthday he'd had was the first one he spent with Pete. That was when he was twenty five. That makes two birthdays where he wasn't conscious to celebrate it. Two years of his life that was taken from him. What would he have done if they'd never gotten in that sabotaged car?

Who hated him enough to take two years away from him? What had he ever done to anyone to make them that angry? He bit down on the inside of his mouth to stop the pout that was begging to come out and be seen. This was his birthday. The first one since he'd woken up. This was supposed to be a happy day. He shouldn't want to cry.

"Patrick, are you okay?"

"Y-Yeah."

"What's wrong?"