Fireflies // Peterick

11.

Patrick stopped leaving the room to change. Pete only noticed because he accidentally saw Patrick shirtless in his own mirror. He wasn't sure why Patrick decided to quit his habit of leaving the room, but he didn't ask about it. He just kept his back to Patrick and was respectful of his space.

Pete had a nightmare Tuesday night. He couldn't remember it when he woke up, but he was shaking and couldn't breathe.

So he got Patrick.

Patrick, who, after a minute of confusion, pulled Pete into a hug. He ran his hand through Pete's hair and told him to copy his breathing. Pete calmed down and was back to sleep in no time. He woke up in Patrick's bed, but he wasn't sure whether or not Patrick had stayed with him the whole night, as he was already awake and dressed when Pete opened his eyes.

They didn't talk about it, until Pete went to work on his story that afternoon and found that he couldn't.

"I need your help," he told Patrick when he walked back in their room after class. "I need ideas for what to write about."

Patrick was sitting on his bed with a book in his lap. "You mean you don't have any?"

Pete shook his head and dropped his backpack on his desk. "I have my other story, but after last night I don't really want to think about that stuff, you know?" He plopped down on his bed across from Patrick's.

"Right." Patrick shut his book. "So you basically have writer's block?"

Pete nodded.

"Okay, let's come up with an idea."

Soon enough, they were tossing Patrick's book back and forth and saying whatever came to mind. They didn't pause to debate ideas.

"An underwater civilization that's almost gone extinct," Patrick suggested, throwing the book.

"A failed playwright living in Arizona." Pete tossed the book back.

"A scientist uncovers the key to immortality, but it's super dangerous."

"A story from the view point of the planet Venus."

"A love story between a stuffed animal and a doll."

Pete thought for a minute. That could be interesting...the toys could belong to different kids at a daycare, and one grows up faster than the other, so they're separated...

The book hit Pete in the face with a thwap.

"Shit!" Patrick stood up. "Are you okay? You were supposed to catch it!" He rushed over to Pete, cupping his face.

"Patrick, I'm fine, I promise. That was a good idea, so I got distracted," Pete said with a laugh.

"Dumbass," Patrick said. He laughed, too, though, so Pete smiled at him.

Pete realized that Patrick was still holding his face in his hands. He didn't say anything, because Patrick was smiling at him softly and it took Pete's breath away. Pete couldn't help but glance at Patrick's mouth. His lips were full and pink, perfectly kissable...

Pete forced himself to look at Patrick's eyes. "Hey," he began quietly. "Thank you for last night."

"For what?"

"For comforting me."

Patrick scoffed. "It wasn't anything you haven't done for me."

"Still." Pete reached up and grabbed one of Patrick's wrists. "Thank you."

Patrick bit his lip. He looked to the side, then back at Pete. The gleam in his eyes made Pete's heart skip. Patrick opened his mouth to say something.

And because the universe has shitty timing, there was a knock on the door.

Patrick jumped back. His face flushed bright pink. Pete cleared his throat and got up to answer the door. Their counselor stood on the other side. "It's time for dinner, guys."

"Sorry, we're coming. We just lost track of time," Pete explained. He turned to Patrick, who nodded in agreement.

"Well, come on then. We've been waiting on you two," their counselor said.

Pete gestured for Patrick to go ahead of him, then followed him out the door. He briefly thought about asking Patrick what he was