Darkness doesn't always destroy the light ~ (Peterick/daddy)

Secrets out

The next morning Pete woke up to someone shifting beside him, making him jump so hard he almost fell from the side of his bunk. He looked over quickly to be met with the same face he was last night, only this time his glasses were missing, probably lost in the trip from one bunk to the other. Aside from that it didn't smell of whiskey and other unknown poisonous beverages.

Only pop tarts and cereal from an obvious late night (probably driven by alcohol) snacking.

Patrick's eyes drooped open and he smiled softly, closing his eyes once again. It was only a few moments before they opened wide and he sat up so fast his head smacked against the top of the bunk, and he held it softly with his hand groaning in pain.

He began to ramble.

"P-pete I'm so sorry about last night I didn't mean to upset you I just didn't have control of myself and you looked so pretty and-and-and-" He was cut off by Pete softly setting his hand on Patrick's, but he kept silent.

Patrick looked at Pete's hand then his eyes trailed up to the forgiving smile on the other man's face.

"Pete, I just wanted to say thank you so much for stopping me. I don't know what could have happened if you were anyone else, what would have happened, I'm just so thankful that you understand consent. I'm sorry I came back after that awkward visit last night, I just heard people outside the bus and I-I was just afraid I guess."

"No need to apologise, Pat." He withdrew his hand from the other man's, bringing it over to support the side of his head, "I don't mind it, sometimes strangers and even some fans can get a little scary. And I wouldn't want to take advantage of you even if it was my only chance at scoring."

Granted, Pete could have definitely used a better choice of words. But Patrick was taken aback, astounded at that, mostly just because those were the first ever full sentences that Pete has ever willingly muttered to him.

And it was nice.

"S-so.. you said you feel the same way?" Patrick spoke hopefully after a long awkward silence, making Pete glance over with a raised eyebrow.

"What? Was it not obvious?"

The other man shook his head softly, then shrugged. "I guess not." He looked down at the sheets and started toying with them softly, "I thought you hated me."

Pete's eyes widened substantially and he sat up straighter again, his hand coming up almost instinctively to cup the side of Patrick's face.

"Pat, I couldn't ever even dream of such negative feelings towards you. Ever since we met all those years ago, through the few past lovers that I tried to replace you in my head with; nothing worked. You had taken me over, you infected my dreams and my thoughts, but in such an incredible way. You're all I can think about, all I want in my life is you, and not just physically, but fuck, your fucking astounding mind, too. I want to take you in and tear you into shreds, then tear those pieces even further to find if there's anything hidden deeper inside. I want to open your mind to me and only me, I want to know everything about you, I want to understand every aspect of you, and more. I-" He was cut off with a soft, warm pair of lips pressing against his own, something he's been craving for longer than he can remember, and it was better than he ever imagined. There was a twinge, a spark that both of them felt, cold wetness trailing down Pete's cheeks.

Not only his, come to find out, but Patrick's as well. Because Patrick was crying.

He eagerly slid his hand further up to tangle his fingers into Patrick's hair, his eyes fluttering shut and his demeanor he had built against the very weakness he was pressed up against melted away.