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What a show.
Pete lagged behind at the venue that night. Wandering around. Utilizing the venue shower. Meeting fans on his way to the bus. The travel to the next venue wasn’t far enough to rush him into a quick departure, which was nice.
The others had left the space before him. Joe and Andy’s bus had already departed by the time Pete finally strolled into the parking area. Patrick had been the first to vanish to the buses immediately getting off stage.
Their driver was outside, smoking a cigarette. He nodded at Pete when he approached. “Ready when you are.”
“I’m good to go.” Pete flashed a thumbs up, “Take your time.”
The driver nodded, bringing the cigarette up to his lips to take another drag as Pete pulled the bus door open. “Sounds good.”
Pete shut the door behind him and hopped up the short set of steps to the main floor of the bus. It was dimly lit, but he could still see well enough to notice a still figure resting on the bench seat by the counter. A set of glasses rested in an upside down baseball cap on the counter. He set his duffel bag down on the table near the entry way before stepping over to the figure.
“Hey, you good, Patrick?” He asked, softly, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.
In all reality, Pete knew Patrick probably still felt like shit. He wasn’t feeling well at the start of the show, but he had insisted on continuing. By the time they finished Saturday, he looked ready to collapse where he stood. It was honestly part of the reason Pete lingered at the venue tonight. When Patrick didn’t feel well, it was usually easier for him to fall asleep before the noises of the bus in motion started.
There was a soft groan from Patrick before his face scrunched.
Pete smiled. He leaned down, letting some of his hair fall over Patrick’s shoulder. “You don’t wanna fall off the couch again.” Pete whispered. He rubbed Patrick’s shoulder before tapping it, “If you hurry, you can still make it to your bunk before the bus starts.
Patrick inhaled with another low groan. He pried his eyes open, trailing his baby blues to Pete with the slight turn of his head.
Pete smiled at him before pulling himself upright. “C’mon.” He offered his hand.
Patrick nodded, taking a moment to stretch before slowly readjusting himself on the couch into a sitting position. He was clearly still blinking away sleep as he reached out for Pete’s hand. His grip was still tight as he used Pete’s weight to help pull himself up.
“Any better?” Pete asked, still keeping a hold on Patrick’s warm hand once he was on his feet. “Feel a bit less like death at least? You definitely look it.”
Patrick shrugged in response, squeezing Pete’s hand.
“Maybe sleeping in your bunk will help.” Pete offered, squeezing Patrick’s hand back. He began to step backwards towards the bunks and Patrick followed, never releasing his hand.
Their bunks were directly across from each other. Both on top with clothes and other personal items tucked right below. The small perks of splitting the band in two busses.
Pete pulled back the curtains on Patrick’s bunk for him, finally releasing Patrick from his grip. He saw Patrick frown, but it was just a flash across his face before he moved to climb into his bunk.
Pete tried not to think about that flash of a frown. He tried not to think about the warmth that left him with the release of Patrick’s hand. He instead focused on making sure Patrick got into his bunk safely.
Patrick practically melted into the bunk once he was in it. He reached up to his face as if to take off his glasses, making Pete laugh.
“I can grab them for you, hang on.” He tapped the side of Patrick’s bunk before moving back down the hall to the main bus space.
The driver was stepping onto the bus at the same time. He nodded to Pete as he moved towards the obscure the driving section. Pete nodded back, moving a bit faster to grab Patrick’s hat and glasses. He hurried back to the bunks, ready to hand the items to Patrick, but Patrick’s eyes were closed and his breathing already evened out and soft.
Pete let out a soft chuckle. “G’night, Trick.” He whispered. He stepped on the edge of the bottom bunk to get a bit more height to reach over Patrick and toss his hat to the small storage ledge on the other side of his bunk. He was careful not to accidentally hit Patrick and wake him up as he pulled back and placed his feet back on the ground. He pulled Patrick’s curtain closed and stepped back.
He wished he could do more for Patrick. He always pushed himself so much just to come back and have to recover in a small cubby while on the road. He sighed, turning to his own bunk and climbing in. A few minutes after getting comfortable, he could hear the sounds and feel the rumble of the bus coming to life.
On their way to the next.
It could have been hours or minutes later, Pete wasn’t sure, but his phone began buzzing insistently. He groaned, rolling over to grab it from where it rested on his bunk’s small shelf. There were notifications from the group chat and some individual messages from Joe. Still trying to blink sleep from his eyes, Pete clicked on the group chat first.
PS- Moving Pictures
JT- Is this your way of telling us you want to see a movie before the next show?
PS- in the grave slot
AH- evening out?
JT- that fever cooking your brain?
PS- I’m serious
JT- okay evening out enemy number one
PS- I think we can make it better live
JT- when’s the last time you even thought about that album?
AH- it could be fun, unexpected :)
Pete tilted his head at the messages. Patrick wanted to play something from their first album? He clicked out of the group chat and swapped to the individual Joe messages.
JT- hey, is Patrick fucking with us or has he been replaced by a body snatcher?
JT- I’m down for the song, just does not sound like a Patrick choice
JT- did he lose a bet?
Pete lowered his phone, turning towards the curtain to his side. The messages were recent. Patrick had to be awake in his bunk. He set his phone back where it was and pushed his curtain open.
Patrick’s curtain was still shut.
Pete wiggled himself to the edge of his bunk and swung his legs out to drop to the floor of the bus. He swayed slightly as the bus rocked around him, but he easily made the half step to Patrick’s bunk.
“Hey, Patrick?” He tapped his knuckles against the side of the bunk. “You still up?”
Pete jumped as the curtain was ripped back. Patrick blinked at him with the tilt of his head.
“Hey.” Pete laughed, “You good?”
Patrick nodded. He scooted further back into his bunk and tapped the thin stretch of space he had made. He looked at Pete expectantly when he hesitated.
“You want me up there?” Pete laughed, trying to hide the flutter he felt in his stomach. It had been years since they shared such an intimate space. Patrick always pushed him away or complained in those early days despite winding up cuddled close to Pete by the morning. Coming back from hiatus though, there was a new boundary. A respect for space so they didn’t fall back into those bad habits and feelings that lead to the break.
Patrick nodded again, tapping the space a few more times.
“I-ah-okay.” Pete nodded.
It felt wrong, after so long, throwing his leg up to lift himself into the bunk. He was careful to avoid kicking Patrick, though it still accidentally happened. Patrick didn’t seem to mind, however, he was fiddling with something in the dark space as Pete adjusted. Once he was set, Patrick held something out to him.
Pete held his hand just under Patrick’s, feeling that warmth once more as Patrick pressed his fingers against Pete’s palm. He opened his fingers, momentarily lacing them between Pete’s fingers as something small dropped into Pete’s hand.
“Earbud?” Pete questioned, looking between the dark object in his palm and their loosely laced fingers.
Patrick pulled his hand back, nodding and grabbing his phone. He shook the phone and pointed at his ear before pointing at the wireless earbud in Pete’s hand.
“Okay.” Pete agreed with a smile. He knew Patrick wasn’t speaking because he was trying to reserve his voice, especially while not feeling well, but it was always amusing to watch him mime. He put the earbud in and gave a thumbs up, keeping his arm close to his chest. He was so close to Patrick, with just a sliver of space between them.
Patrick shifted his eyes to his phone, tapping his fingers against the screen.
Before Pete could ask about the group chat messages, a song started playing in his ear. An old song with a young Patrick singing to him.
“Oh, you were serious, hu?” Pete shut his eyes to listen to Patrick’s voice. It had really grown over the course of twenty years. Yet it was still that same kid he had met on a random day in Chicago on Joe’s recommendation.
The recent revisiting of songs this tour had brought up a lot of past memories, but hearing this start again after so long and assuming they wouldn’t be revisiting it… Pete opened his eyes, surprised to see Patrick’s eyes on him. They were full of question as he reached out, placing his hand gently on Pete’s cheek.
“What?” Pete was suddenly aware of wetness on his cheeks. Patrick was wiping away tears from his face. “Oh, shit…Sorry I, just thinking….shit…”
Patrick frowned at him. He kept his hand on Pete’s cheek, one pressed thumb swipe to push the tears back before more gentle swipes of his thumb.
“I’m fine.” Pete shook his head. “Just haven’t listened to that one in a bit. You’ve really come a long way.”
Patrick rolled his eyes.
“I’m serious.” Pete leaned in closer. “I don’t think about it a lot because we’re always together and I always hear you but… you’ve always been insane vocally and you’ve only gotten better.”
Patrick’s thumb paused on his cheek.
“I think we could make it better live now, with the voice you’ve got now.” He grinned. “I’d love to hear you sing it.”
Patrick’s shoulder’s bounced with a silent laugh. He brought his hand back from Pete’s face and tapped on his phone. Pete just smiled at his concentration and focus in the small square of light. After a few seconds, he turned the dim screen to Pete.
Promise not to cry onstage?
A laugh burst from Pete. “You ask so much of me, Stump.”
Patrick rolled his eyes again, but there was a smile teasing his lips. It vanished with a yawn that reflected in his eyes. He shoved his phone in his pocket and closed the sliver of space between them.
Pete let out a small squeak as Patrick draped an arm over his side. He brought his face against Pete’s chest and let out a soft sigh. Pete gulped, unsure what was happening. It felt like his brain was short circuiting. It was never like this. Patrick was never such a willing participant in being so close. His body was so warm where it touched pete, and it fit just right against him in the small space.
Patrick pulled his face back, looking up at Pete with those tired eyes. Those baby blues that could ask anything of him and he would melt. He pulled his arm back too, pressing it against his chest. It still pressed against Pete due to their close proximity.
“Have you been body snatched?” The question blurted out of Pete, his mind flashing to the text from Joe.
Patrick sighed, visibly deflating. He scooted back, putting that space back between them. “Sorry, that was… sorry it was stupid…” His voice was a soft mumble, but still audible.
“No, no!” Fuck. Pete began to reach out his hand, but hesitated. “It’s just… it’s been a long time. You were never really into it.”
Patrick rolled onto his back, looking up at the ceiling of the bunk. “I dunno… I don’t think back on it all that much, but I have been with the surprise songs. Looking through our catalog. Remembering where we were. What we started from.”
“That time you choked me at a gas pump?”
“I’ve worked on my anger issues since then.” Patrick groaned, “I mean like…” he rotated his hands in the small space between his chest and the ceiling. “Us. The band. Things we used to have that…We’ve been afraid to bring back.”
Pete blinked at Patrick. Did he miss his overt affection? The thing he always hated? “Like…”
“Like affection.” Patrick shrugged, keeping his eyes on the ceiling. “I dunno I… It wasn’t all bad…”
Pete stared at Patrick, unable to form words. He felt like he had just been hit by a rubber mallet in a cartoon. The kisses on the necks. The kneeling at his feet. The clinginess. All things he had abandoned years ago for his friend’s comfort… “It wasn’t?”
Patrick’s lips were pressed tightly together. He still kept his eyes glued to the ceiling, refusing to look towards Pete. “No. It wasn’t.” His voice was a whisper when he finally did respond. “It wasn’t bad.”
Pete watched Patrick blink rapidly for a moment before settling back into their regular pattern. He scooted towards Patrick, being the one to close the space between them this time. He put his hand on Patrick’s cheek, guiding his head to turn towards him.
Even in the dim light, those blue eyes still struck him. It had been so long since he regarded them so closely. “You always say you’re not nostalgic.” Pete murmured, keeping his hand on Patrick’s cheek.
Patrick blinked rapidly again. “Not nostalgic doesn’t mean I can’t miss things.” He whispered back, bringing his hand up to place on top of Pete’s.
Pete brought his face closer to Patrick’s and he could almost swear Patrick matched his movement. Their legs intertwined at the other end of the bunk. Their chests were all but touching. There was an energy in the thin space between them Pete wasn’t sure he had ever felt before.
Their noses brushed together.
Then their lips.
Then it became a full blown moment of lips moving together in a sync and rhythm they so easily slipped into. It felt like they were back to being confused twenty somethings in an enclosed space playing seven minutes in heaven. Hands sliding along skin. Light tugs at hair. Soft bites on lips. Bodies pressing as close as possible.
Then they pulled apart. Both breathing heavy. Both looking at each other with wide eyes. Still close. So close.
“That was new.” Patrick was the first to speak.
“Was it bad?” Pete asked, bringing his hand down from the back of Patrick’s head to rest on Patrick’s shoulder. He didn’t think it was. His eyes were already drawn back to Patrick’s lips. All those teases kissing his neck and anywhere on his face he could plant a kiss, he had never met his lips like that.
Patrick’s eyes were flickering all over Pete’s face. His blinks were sped as he contemplated Pete’s words and what had just happened. Instead of responding, he pressed his lips back against Pete’s.
Pete’s heart fluttered. He happily kissed back, emotions swirling and limbs further twisting with Patrick’s. It was confusing. It was bliss. It made him further question things about himself he thought he had put to rest years ago.
He wasn’t sure how long it lasted this time. Eventually, someone pulled away. Patrick’s face was again pressed against Pete’s chest with his breathing slowing.
Pete held him, his own breathing slowing down as well. His mind was a buzz with so many things he couldn’t focus on just one.
He could hear occasional snores coming from Patrick, it made him laugh softly. “G’night, Trick.” He spoke softly, tightening his grip around him just slightly. He shut his eyes, holding onto this moment in his mind over everything else swirling. Whatever else happened from here, at least this moment felt right.