A/N: Also one of my faves. The single life is crippling.
Warning: Vomit. And Patrick.
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Your POV
"How much am I allowed to drink tonight?" Patrick asks, putting his hand in the back pocket of my jeans.
"I thought we said no drinking," I kick a stone off the sidewalk and he leans his chin on the top of my head.
"But whyyy?" he complains, moving his hand around my shoulder.
"Patrick, you get wild when you drink. I don't have to remind you". He smirks in response and gently bites my shoulder. "Ow!" I laugh, pushing him away, "you jerk". Patrick circles back from my push, kissing all over my face.
"Well if I don't get to drink then what do I get?" he raises his eyebrows suggestively while I think.
"You get..." I look around at the trees we pass before turning back to him, "an avocado!"
"An avocado! Thanks!" (A/N: if you know you know)
---Two hours later---
"Hey, crazy," Patrick shouts, making his way through the crowd towards me. "How much have you had to drink?" he looks at the cup in my hand then back to my face.
"Like 100 drinks," I laugh, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss.
"Ugh," he tilts his head up, making kissing him again impossible.
"You think my kissing is gross?" I cry, running back into the crowd of dancing people.
"Move it, you dumb motherfucker!" I hear him yell at someone behind me. "Baby, slow down!"
My head starts dizzying and I soon feel Patrick's hands on my waist. "I think I'm gonna be sick..."
"Wait, what?-" Unable to control myself, I sway forward and vomit on his shirt. The feeling was sickening, everything hurt. "No fucking way," Patrick whines, watching as I continue to throw up on him.
"I-I'm sorry, Pat-"
"Gross... okay, come on," he looks around for the bathroom frantically, kids around us running the other way to avoid being vomited on.
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I kneel in front of the toilet, letting everything out. It felt like my stomach and throat were on fire. I was still all dizzy. Patrick pulls my hairband off my wrist, tying my hair back like a pro.
I look up at him from where I'm sitting and watch the bathroom light halo around his head. He looked like an angel. "You okay down there?" he smiles at me before going back to wiping my vomit off of his shirt. Finally done with my episode of sickness, I clean myself up with the 'complimentary' toilet paper. "Slow your roll, sweetums," Patrick wets a towel and cleans me up properly, laughing at my clearly pathetic state.
"Your hair is so... pretty," I giggle, reaching out and touching Patrick's black locks.
"Is that so?" He says in the voice of an adult conversing with a child. Patrick laughs, pulling my hands from his hair, "I am going to make so much fun of you for this after you've sobered up," he smirks, grunting as he lifts me up off the floor.
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"Im sorry-" I hiccup before continuing, "for throwing up on you".
"Let's get you home," he leads me out the door when realization hits me.
"You can't take me home! My parents are gonna kill me," I complain, feeling myself begin to panic.
"Okay... well. We could sleep at Bower's?" he suggests and I nod frantically.
...
"What do you two want at this hour?" Henry says, rubbing his eyes.
"C'mon man, there's no way in hell you were sleeping," Patrick smirks, tightening his grip on me as I start to slip again.
"Yeah, I was jerking off," Henry barks back. "Come in then," Henry steps back, letting us creep past his sleeping father.
"I like your abs," I laugh, making Henry blush and Patrick scoff.
"Don't flatter yourself, Henry, she's drunk. And put on a shirt," Patrick puts down a blanket and a pillow on the floor, grabbing two of Henry's shirts and lifting my gross one over my head. "Don't stare!" Patrick shouts, throwing my old shirt at Henry so that he'll turn away.
"You take my pillow, my blanket, my shirts and I don't even get a peep show?" Henry protests, as though working out how unfair this exchange was.
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"Yeah and the pillow's for her. Be happy you have one," Patrick replies as he slips the shirt over my head.
"I love you," I say to him and he smiles.
"You guys are gross," Henry laughs.
"Shut up". Patrick puts the new shirt on and Henry gets into bed, turning off the light.
"Patrick?" I watch him lay his head down on the hard floor covered only by a blanket, no pillow. "Come here," I whisper, offering him half of my pillow. He gladly accepts, our noses touching from the closeness. "Sorry I threw up on you," I say again and I can see his smirk in the dark. Patrick reaches over and pulls the hairband from my hair.
