~peterick oneshots~

label the brownies, pete

i was wondering what patrick might be like if he had gotten high, and this came out. enjoy.

I was thinking tttyg era-

it was an accident! pete forgot to put them away... or at least label them 'do not eat'. patrick was hungry and wanted something sweet to eat. though, little did he know, these were pete's newest batch of pot brownies, so he ate a few. not a good idea. he was freaking out! pete came home to see his friend curled up under a blanket on the couch, hiding from a "kitchen monster." it was hemmingway, pete's dog. though to patrick he was a giant rodent thing that he couldn't explain clearly enough to pete.

pete laughed, uncovering the small man asking why he called him a "kitchen monster."

"because he won't come out of the kitchen and he's guarding the fridge!" patrick explained, scared and pouty. he was hungry, but the "kitchen monster" refused to move away from the refrigerator.

hemmingway was sleeping. patrick was just afraid to wake him up, terrified of being the monster's dinner- of pete coming home to see him half eaten.

though of course patrick had no clue what was really going on.

"patrick, you're high," pete laughed at him, watching his pale friend's eyes growing wide.

"what?" he asked, confused and not entirely sure what that meant.

"you ate the brownies, didn't you?"

like a robot becoming aware of its own consciousness, patrick seemed to panic. "what? brownies? brownies! yes... pete, what does this mean?! what do I do?"

"calm down, 'trick. you're fine." pete chuckled.

patrick whimpered, looking at his friend. he really did not know he had done anything wrong- and while he was confused about hemmingway looking the way he did, patrick did not think 𝘵𝘰𝘰 much into it. he had to admit though, he did feel strange.

"you're fine." pete said again.

after a minute or two, patrick nodded, staring at pete's face silently.

"you okay, 'trick?" pete asked curiously.

"'m hungry!" he pouted, frowning as he glanced into the kitchen to see hemmingway still slumbering by the refrigerator.

"then why don't we find something to eat?" pete suggested, concern flooding his facial features as the blood drained from patrick's as he shook his head vigorously. "why not?" he asked, having forgotten of the supposed "kitchen monster."
and so patrick looked pete dead in the eyes and whispered, "kitchen monster, pete."

pete had to laugh. the seriousness of patrick's belief of the kitchen monster only more hilarious than even the idea that a kitchen monster was a real thing.

patrick only frowned. "it's in there, pete! it can smell your fear, and dammit, I am not going in there!" he said, giving pete a pouty look as he only laughed more.

"patrick, it's a dog! hemmingway won't hurt you! he can't smell your fear let alone his own ass!" pete spoke in histarics. he was not entirely sure of his last sentence, but went with it anyway.

"that is 𝘯𝘰𝘵 a dog, peter! that is a terrifying killing machine that wants all of the food for himself! if we go in there, we are dead men!"

"he's two feet high and can barely walk on those legs! besides, 'trick, he won't hurt us. he's the most loveable lil guy."

"you're working for him, aren't you!?" patrick accused, scooting away from his friend. "you want me to go in there so you can please him. so that he can eat me for his dinner! like..., like some kind of giant? get your reward for doing your job! how much is he giving you?!"

"again, patrick, your 'kitchen monster' is just a two foot high english -i think- bulldog that is literally the most harmless thing to have ever entered this apartment. you are okay. I'm not working for him. he is an animal." pete tried to explain without laughing and tried to speak calmly.
patrick shook his head, whimpering softly. "no, no! he's real, I saw him!"

"patrick, you are on drugs. you are seeing things, and all that 'kitchen monster' is, is a big, sweet ol' dog. you are okay, I promise. okay?"

patrick pouted but nodded anyway. "o-okay," he whispered out, still not completely believing that he was safe.

"now, how about I get you some food and you can sit here and try to calm down?"

patrick nodded again and sat back on the couch to wait quietly.

"okay," pete smiled some, getting up and leaving the room. he went to the kitchen and woke hemmingway, having him move away from the refrigerator.

the lazy, slow moving dog made his way to the living room where patrick cowerd at the sight of him. "p-pete..." he whimpered out, stretching his neck out to see where pete was- scared by the fact that he could not find his friend, and that the migrating kitchen monster had been getting a lot closer to him. it yawned, licking its lips as it stood in front of the couch.

"you ate him, didn't you?!" patrick spoke to the dog, hoping he had been wrong. "g-get away," he whimpered, the dog standing on back legs, front ones propped up on the couch for balance. "pete!" he called out, hoping to god that his friend was not dead. especially at the jaws of this horrid kitchen monster. what a way to go... and patrick was convinced he was next as the vicious animal jumped on the couch, crawling onto patrick and licking all over his face. "pete! pete, he's eating me, help!"he shouted out in terror.

"'trick, he is not eating you!" pete said from the doorway of the kitchen, laughing as he sat next to patrick, pulling the dog off of patrick and holding him.

"pete, be careful..." patrick mumbled, watching the dog carefully.

"I'm okay, 'tricky." pete chuckled, putting the dog down.

patrick watched the dog still as he waddled over to his bed.

"it's okay, 'trick." pete said again, laughing softly as he wrapped his arms around patrick.

"okay...," patrick whispered, hugging pete. "food?" he questions quietly, glancing up from pete's chest.

"cooking pizza." pete smiled. "it'll be done soon."
"okay," patrick mumbled, resting his head on pete's chest once again.

eventually the pizza was done, and pete got it out of the oven. they ate and not long after, patrick was ready for bed; having fallen asleep curled up to pete.

"goodnight, my little pothead." pete whispered, chuckling quietly as he took the young man to his bedroom.

(I couldn't think of a different name, so I guess we're going with 'pothead')