Once the sun finally comes up, Patrick wakes to find that Pete is missing. The bed is cold and empty and Patrick just wants the warmth back. But he soon realized that the bathroom was occupied and there was water running, specifically the shower. Man, a shower sounded amazing right about now.

Patrick tangles himself up in the blanket and takes a deep breath, inhaling nothing but the faint scent of Pete. It's sweet and intoxicating and if Patrick was a drug addict he'd be itching to breathe it in 24/7.

Some ten minutes later, Pete emerges from the bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of black skinny jeans and the purple sneakers he wore the other day, drying his hair with a white towel. Patrick does his best to resist the urge to roll over and ogle the tattooed man like some crazed sexual predator. In fact, he squeezes his eyes shut and thinks about anything other than Pete or the designs of ink that cover his body.

Once Pete is satisfied with the dryness of his hair, he removes the towel from his head and places it around his neck. He cards his fingers through his hair and there's instantly some resistance. Damn, he should've brought his straightener with him, but maybe it's not so bad. It'll be a little more difficult to recognize him if his hair is in its natural state so he's not complaining too much.

He glances up and sees the little lump known as Patrick rolled up in the blanket, facing away, his hair spilling out at the top. Pete smiles to himself at the sight.

He goes over to Patrick's side and squats down beside the bed. He knows Patrick isn't asleep because normally he spreads out and lightly snores. Pete curls his fingers around the blanket and pulls it down, revealing Patrick's bright blue eyes and nothing else.

"Hey, Patrick." Pete smiles.

"Hi, Pete." Patrick responds, his voice muffled from behind the ugly patterned material.

"Feeling okay?" Pete asks then Patrick makes a sound that Pete guesses is supposed to mean 'yes'. "Any nightmares?"

Patrick shakes his head. Surprisingly he's had none, maybe having Pete so close to him last night helped to keep Vaughn away. But next time Patrick might not be so lucky, whether Pete is beside him or not. Though, he's a little less afraid of falling asleep now. He feels like Pete can actually protect him and keep the evil voice at bay. Pete makes him feel a bit safer.

"Good, that's great!" Pete says happily. "So, what do you want for dinner?"

Patrick furrows his brow in slight confusion then pokes his head out from the blanket the rest of the way. "Dinner? What time is it?"

"Uh," Pete holds up his wrist and glances at his watch to round off the time. How long has he had that thing? Patrick's never it noticed before. "Four thirty," He chuckles. "Dude, it's closer to dinner time than anything else."

Patrick's been asleep for over twelve hours, he had no idea he'd been out for that long. Patrick hasn't slept like that in years.

Patrick shrugs. "I don't know, pizza? Burg-"

"Pizza sounds good." Pete interrupts, beaming with wide eyes and Patrick can't help but smile at that. He must really like pizza.

"Pizza it is then." Then Patrick glances up at Pete's messy, dark hair. It sticks up in thick little curled tufts and looks soft enough to sleep on. The boy reaches up and puts his whole hand in it, feeling as the hair tickles the webbing between his fingers and brush across the pads of each digit. And he was right, it was soft.

He takes his eyes away from Pete's hair and draws his attention to Pete's face instead. His eyes are closed and he sighs contentedly, if he were a cat he'd be purring right about now.

"I like your hair." Patrick says, scraping his fingernails across the older man's scalp.

"Thanks," Pete murmurs, his eyes still closed. "I should...pizza..."

"Yeah, you should pizza." Patrick giggles and Pete laughs lazily, finally opening his eyes halfway when Patrick removes his hand.

"I'll be right back, okay?"

The boy nods then Pete gets up and walks over to his separate bed, ditching his towel on the floor and picking up the red shirt lying on top of his mattress, pulling it over his head. He shrugs on a dark blue hoodie and heads for the door.

"Don't go anywhere." Pete jokes as he opens the door.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Pete." Patrick shoots back just as Pete steps out and shuts the door behind him.

Now Patrick's alone, the room filled with nothing but silence and his light breathing which is how Patrick would like it to stay. His head feels empty and his heart feels steady and he can think on his own without any interference. Everything seems okay, even if it'll just be for a little while.

While he waits for Pete to return, he showers and changes into some fresh jeans and a faded Marvel Comics shirt. He returns to his bed, sits cross-legged and flicks on the TV, searching for something good to watch....he comes up empty. So he just turns on a rerun of Judge Judy.

Pete returns half an hour later, holding a box of pizza in one hand and a two liter soda in the other. "I have returned!" Pete calls out as he kicks the door shut.

"Hey. What kind of pizza did you get?"

"Large pepperoni, extra cheese." Pete says as he places it down in front of Patrick on the bed and sets the soda down on the floor. "Eat up, it's gonna be a long night."

Patrick opens the box and is immediately hit with the strong scent of cheese and sauce, making his mouth water so much that he nearly drools all over the pizza. He reaches for a slice only to be shouted at.

"Don't eat without me." Pete whines as he pulls his arms out of his hoodie, throwing it onto his bed and plopping down beside Patrick. "Okay, now we can eat."

Patrick smiles then reaches for a slice again, finally succeeding in picking it up uninterrupted and takes a bite.

"Is this Judge Judy?" Pete says with a mouthful of pizza.

Patrick shrugs and says defensively, "There was nothing else on. Not unless you want to watch an infomercial for a weed whacker."

"Well maybe I want to buy a weed whacker."

"What would you do with a weed whacker?"

"Uh, whack weeds." Pete says in a 'duh' tone.

Patrick ends up laughing instead of pointing out that Pete didnt have a lawn. Pete looks over at Patrick's smiling face and finds himself grinning uncontrollably, he's never seen Patrick so happy before. At least not in the few months that Pete has known him. He likes the way Patrick's face lights up when he smiles and the sound of his laugh makes Pete's heart skip a beat. He wishes he could see the boy like this all the time, seeing Patrick happy makes Pete happy.

After a while, the pizza gets finished off and the soda is half empty. Judge Judy finally ended after two more episodes, leaving nothing but infomercials (this one is for some type of granite skillet or something) for the two to watch. It's six forty-five and won't get entirely dark for another hour, maybe more, maybe less, neither of them are entirely sure.

Silence had fallen between the two as they stared at the flashing screen, terrible actors over exaggerating issues with regular home cook-wear. They've been watching the same damn infomercial for at least twelve minutes, and Pete was finally fed up.

"Oh my God," He groans, throwing his hands up in annoyance and flopping backwards on the bed.

"Got any better ideas?" Patrick deadpans, not looking away from the screen.

"Yes, throwing that damn TV out the window."

Patrick chuckles then just clicks the TV off, tossing the remote in an unknown direction. He flops backwards as well, lying beside the older man with his arm over his eyes. Pete removes his arm from his face when he hears Patrick sigh from beside him. He turns his head toward the boy and examines the profile of his face a moment before his eyes get caught on Patrick's arm. There's a raised scar on his bicep.

Without any thought Pete reaches over and gently wraps his fingers around Patrick's arm, lightly rubbing his thumb across the newly formed skin. His eyes stay attached to the healed wound.

"I'm sorry." Pete mumbles. "I shouldn't have shot you."

Patrick looks between his arm and Pete before he settles his eyes on the man before him. "S'fine, you were only defending yourself. I shouldn't have broken into your home."

Pete's lips pull into a slight smile that doesn't reach his eyes, but it's still nice in Patrick's eyes. "Water under the bridge."

The next thing Pete does catches Patrick by surprise. Pete leans down towards Patrick's bicep until Patrick can feel his breath dust over his skin, then the man's lips brush against his scar before he presses them to Patrick's arm, kissing the old bullet wound sweetly. The boy's breath hitches.

Pete retracts himself then looks up at Patrick. "I don't want to let you down, Patrick." He whispers. "I'm going to do everything I can to help you."

"But why, Pete?" Patrick questions. He didn't understand why Pete would want to do that for him. Patrick's too dangerous to be around. "You won't get anything out of the deal."

But Pete doesn't care. "Fuck the deal. I just want you to be happy, that's all I want."

"Pete, I don't-" Patrick cuts himself off when Pete leans forward and presses their foreheads together. "Pete?"

"I just want you to be happy, Patrick." Pete murmurs. "I'll make you happy if it's the last thing I do." Then he softly attaches his lips to Patrick's and Patrick lets him.

Pete's lips are soft and gentle, but then they're gone all too soon as Pete breaks it. He looks into Patrick's mesmerizing eyes, waiting for him to say or maybe do something. He's thinking he's done something wrong now, maybe he shouldn't have-

Patrick eagerly closes the gap between them, reattaching their lips so quick that Pete can barely catch up. Once he does, he wraps his arms around Patrick's waist to bring him closer, chests crushed against each other. Patrick brings his arms up and places them around Pete's neck, running his fingers through Pete's natural, thick hair. They stay like that for a while; connected at the lips, holding each other close until neither of them have enough air in their lungs. Tongues twisting together, moans slipping from their throats, panting loudly.

In this moment, Pete thinks maybe they could be doing more than just running from the law. Maybe they could run away together. Start anew, just get away from the world because now it's out to get them both and wants them locked up. He only trusts Patrick, more than he even trusts himself and wants to make sure Patrick has everything he wants and needs. Wants to see him smile and laugh more often because he's beautiful and deserves it.

Pete's words echo in Patrick's mind, 'I just want you to be happy, Patrick' and he knows he'll only be happy as long as Pete is with him, Pete is what makes him happy. He hasn't genuinely smiled or laughed for any reason before he met Pete, he just brings the best out of him. He forgets what he went through when he was younger, forgets about what he did, forgets about Vaughn. It's just him and Pete.

'I'll make you happy if it's the last thing I do'

And Patrick believes every word of it.