It's the last one I swear

I actually need to be stopped with this story

I love it way too much

Rip to the people who don't like Peterick but I'm supposed to enjoy this too don't come at me okay

thanks

My phone is cracked as fuck and I can barely see the right half of my screen, so there are bound to be mistakes. See one? Please point it out!

Also I A P O L O G I S E I'm being so damn slow with updates smh

Warnings: Brief/Referenced/Implied smut

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"So, uh. Mi casa es su casa." Pete gestured lamely around at his bedroom, which he and Patrick were currently stood in the middle of.

"You know that has sexual connotations, don't you?"

"Oh, God, does it?" Patrick snorted, nodding. "No! That's not fair!" Pete covered his embarrassed face with his hands with a huff of laughter. "'Trick! I didn't know! I just heard someone say it once!" Patrick was still laughing at him, and Pete started to laugh, too, Patrick's laugh just making him so damn happy inside that he couldn't help it.

"Here, he-here, look, I saved something for you." Patrick said, recovering himself with a breathy chuckle. He pulled the flake from his icecream out of his jacket pocket, only slightly melted (It was cold outside, after all.).

"Oh. That's what happened to it. I was quite upset you didn't offer me any, actually."

"You want some?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Come get it, then." Patrick put the chocolate between his smirking pink lips. Pete blushed and, putting a hand on Patrick's waist, leant in and took the other end of the chocolate in his teeth. They both tentatively, yet quickly, bit down the stick of chocolate towards eachother, eager to feel the other's lips against their own.

Pete got to the middle first, and passed into Patrick's half, meeting the blonde's lips shortly afterward. Patrick decided to chase his part of the Flake that Pete had eaten into his mouth, steering it with his tongue as fast as he could before it melted, back out of the older boy's mouth and into his own.

"Ha." He said once he pulled away. Pete smiled and pulled him in by the waist again.

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"No, wait, Patrick, come back."

"I will dude, I really gotta go to the bathroom. I've already put it off for ten minutes, I need to run."

"No you don't, just stay here. I won't mind." Patrick gave him a look.

"Now, that's just weird."

"I won't though, I promise. I won't even bring it up." Pete begged. The blonde looked at him for a moment, and Pete, seeing that Patrick wasn't going to give up, sighed. "Down the hall, second door on the left."

"Thank you. Oh, and whatever that was, I'm totally questioning you about it when I get back." The younger boy opened the previously locked door and left. Pete grumbled incoherently and rolled over in his bed, pulling his duvet up over his head. He missed Patrick already, and he could literally hear him in the bathroom just down the hall. He heard the toilet flush, the sink start, stop, the door open, the door close, footsteps, the door open, the door close, the lock snap, and then Patrick was climbing under the blanket with him.

"Hey, would you look at that? I'm back." Patrick pressed up against him, snuggling him. "Who would've guessed?"

"Shut up." Pete smiled lazily, rolling over to face the blonde. "Hey, can I ask you a question?"

"Go on." Pete got suddenly nervous.

"Well, uh, W-Woul-Will you be my boyfriend, 'Trick?" He managed.

"Judging by the fact that I've literally eaten chocolate out of your mouth while kissing you, I think it's safe to say that the answer is yes." Patrick joked, giving Pete a sweet Eskimo kiss.

"So I can call you my boyfriend, now?"

"Nothing was stopping you before."

"I can point at you and go 'That's my boyfriend' to someone?"

"Yes, Pete."

"I can come up and say 'I'm his boyfriend.' To someone?"

"Pete, dude, I love you, but shut up."

"Would that mean I have permission to do this, then?"

"Do wha-" Patrick hissed as he felt Pete's hand press against the front of his jeans.

"Holy shit." He said, more a statement than an exclamation, and Pete looked him in the eyes.

"Well?"

"Oh, Jesus Christ. Okay. But we gotta be quiet, fuck."

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"This went from - fuck - Zero to a hundred - mm - real f-fucking quick."

"I-I can't help it, you're s-so fucking beautiful, 'Trick, shit." Pete whispered, grinding down against the blonde, nothing sharp or harsh in his movements, only loving and caring.

"A-Anyway, I thought I said dinner and a movie first."

"One, I don't hear you complaining," Pete let out a loud whine that he had managed to muffle somewhat with the knuckle in his mouth. "Two, does ice cream and a pantomime not -ah- count?"

"I-I guess it's gonna have to, fuck."

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"Well." Patrick coughed. "That was, ah, rather unexpected." Pete looked up from where he was laying on his side next to the blonde, propping his head up on his hand and using the other to stroke Patrick's stomach over his shirt.

"But was it good?"

"Good? Of course it was good. It's you, Petey, how could it not be? Now, I don't suppose you've got any spare clothes or anything, do you? I've got a bit of a situation down here."

"Me too. I'll, er, I'll see what I can find. You're welcome to take a look in my wardrobe, I'll be right back." Pete left with a flushed face. He couldn't believe that just happened, bit Holy shit, it did, the only conformation Pete needed being found in the purple mark on his shoulder and the white liquid drying on his stomach and in his underwear.

Pete smiled.

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When Pete returned from the bathroom, he held a bowl of water and a dampened cloth in his hand.

"Hey, uh, if you want to, you know, clean off, there's this." He put the bowl down on the bed and then joined Patrick by his wardrobe, slipping an arm around his waist. "Hey, pattycakes. See anything you like?"

"Don't call me pattycakes." He laughed. "And yeah, I found something." He pointed at Pete. "I like that."

"Not me, clothes!"

"Well, I was thinking, wouldn't it be a bit weird for everyone else if I went home wearing your jeans and underwear?"

"Oh, shit, yeah. Just a bit." Pete started to nibble at his lip in contemplation. "We... Could... Say you spilled a drink or something?

Patrick shook his head. "My brother. He'll know." Patrick turned worried. "Oh God, he'll know and he'll never shut up about it..."

"Well, we'll think of something, I'm sure. But for now, you need other clothes. So pick some and I can leave while you clean off and get changed, because I want to cuddle."

"What about these?" Patrick held up a pair of black jeans and a white vest.

"Yeah, sure, take whatever you need."

"Thanks."

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Not ten minutes later, both boys had cleaned off and changed clothes (Pete finding Patrick wearing his clothes to be his new favourite thing), and were snuggled up to each other in Pete's bed, talking about how much they were going to miss each other when Patrick inevitably had to leave.

"It's gonna be so cold without you." Pete complained.

"I know." Patrick whined, kissing Pete again. "I can't believe I'm gonna miss you this much. I literally met you five hours ago, an it already feels like forever." Pete squeaked slightly at that and blushed a deep, happy red. They lay in comfortable silence for a while, listening to each other's heartbeats, before Pete's smile suddenly grew wide, and he put his hands over Patrick's ears before shouting down the stairs.

"Mom, can Patrick please stay the night?!"