Peterick fic collaboration with RAWRsaysRabidMissile. Patrick's POV: Me. Pete's POV: RAWRsaysRabidMissile.
I look down and bite my lip in thought. Josh did out me, it would only be fair to do the same to him. Although if I talk to my mom as soon as she gets home, I could always transfer schools and never see Josh or Pete again. I look to Pete and bite my lip harder, not really liking the idea of not seeing him again. I don’t know why I care, he did help today be complete hell for me. But, he did also try to help me, which is something no one has ever done. But if Pete and I go through with this, I’m not sure how much will change. I’ll still be the kid unanimously disliked throughout the school, and Pete will probably be pulled down with me. But if I had a chance to turn the tables, to make Josh the one everyone hates, to at least have a few friends after this; it could be worth it.
“Patrick?” Pete nudges my shoulder.
I look up to him, “I-I don’t know Pete... what if this backfires? Everyone already hates me...”
“That could change. They only dislike you, or act like they do, because of Josh. If we knock him out of the way, I’m sure school and making friends would be much easier for you.”
“But Pete... if it backfires you’re fucked too... You’re already fucked for being nice to me..”
Pete shrugs, “I say it’s worth a try. If nothing else, at least we’d have each other’s backs at school. Thanks, by the way, for saving me from getting my ass kicked.”
I shrug a shoulder, “Thanks for watching me get my ass kicked.”
He rolls his eyes, “I knew you’d say that.”
“Then why do you look so annoyed?” I toss a couch pillow at him.
“Because I was hoping we’d moved passed that.” he throws the pillow back, “And I did stop Josh once.”
I sigh, “Fine Pete, we’ll do it... well, you’ll do it. The plan doesn’t really involve me at all...” I throw the pillow back, accidentally hitting his face, “Oh, sorry! I-I’m really r-really sorry!”
I rub my face, chuckling quietly. Patrick's biting his lip so hard it might bleed, and he's reaching out to me nervously. I toss the pillow back at him lightly and sit down.
"I-I... I-m so s-" he murmurs, before I cut him off.
"Hey, it barely hurt. It was an accident and I'm not gonna let this entire afternoon be about you feeling guilty. It's a pillow, man. It's fine."
"Are you s-sure?" Patrick asks nervously.
"I'm completely sure. Now, about the plan. You sure you're on board?"
Patrick nods, looking utterly unsure. I sigh and watch him, gauging his responses. He's sitting on the couch, hunched over and shaking slightly. Poor guy, how can he even survive the kind of shit he goes through? I understand him not wanting to get even with Josh. I'd be afraid too, if I were in his position. Trusting a near stranger to get rid of the bully, and hopefully in the process, the rest of his troubles. I know it's something I'd jump to, but I'm worried about him. What if he decides at the last minute that he doesn't want to do it? Or that he wants to tell Josh? He'd have leverage over me and might actually be able to become their friend. I fidget, starting to wonder if I'm the one who needs to worry about trust.
"Why are you staring at me? It's making me uncomfortable." Patrick says, trying to disappear into the couch. I cough and straighten up in the armchair.
"Uh... sorry, I zoned out. Anyway, this won't be as difficult or risky as we both seem to think it is. It's just toying with his emotions." I shrug. "Mostly an experiment."
"Experiments can fail. And if this fails? You'll be outed. Did you think about that, Pete?"
"Not... not really. I guess I didn't. But you're out. You need someone to be on your side. So if I'm outed, fine. Two guys against the world." I grin, throwing my arms behind my head and lounging back in the chair.
"Don't do that, it's old and you'll break it. Two guys against the world... you make it sound like we're together or something."
I laugh and lean forward, trying to be more careful with the armchair. He cracks a nervous smile.
"Good, you're smiling. Trust me, this'll work."
"H-How are you so sure, Pete?"
I shrug with confidence and lean back once again. Suddenly, the back of the chair collapses and I'm falling backwards onto the floor.
I squeak and jump up, helping Pete up before allowing myself to freak out about the armchair.
“NoNoNoNo! She’s going to kill me! Shit!” I look to Pete, “A-Are you okay?” I glance back at the chair and wince so violently I nearly fall over.
“I’m fine..” he frowns, “Patrick, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to break it I-”
“I-It’s fine.” I shake.
He shakes his head, “It’s obviously not fine. Look, it’s my doing so I’ll just apologize to your mom. I’d offer to buy another one but I’m guessing there’s sentimental value..”
I nod and sit back on the couch, “It was her dad’s. I’m not even allowed to sit in it...”
He frowns, “I wish I knew it wasn’t supposed to be sat in-”
I shake my head, “No, everyone but me can sit in it..” I fidget.
He raises an eyebrow, “Everyone but you?”
“Ah, yeah I um... apparently I plop when I sit down? And um, I’m a bit....I’m fat, okay? And that’s why I’m not allowed to sit there.” I look down.
He frowns, “Don’t say that stuff-”
“No, it’s really why. I’m “heavier” so it won’t be able to support my weight. My mother’s exact words.”
“That’s fucked up... but still it’s my fault, and I can get you out of trouble with her about skipping school too.” he grins.
I snort, “Good luck. She’ll be sharpening her knife on the drive home.”
He shakes his head, “No, Patrick, you see I have a secret weapon.”
I raise an eyebrow, “What does that mean?”
He shrugs, “Parents love me. All parents. My friend’s super strict Mormon parents? I got their son drunk, and walked away with gas money for driving him home.”
“Yeah? I bet it won’t work on my mom...”
He smirks, “We’ll see.”
“So..a-are you going to stay here u-until she gets here?” I fidget nervously.
“Yeah, unless that’s a problem?” he looks to me.
“I um, it’s not a problem I just... I haven’t had anyone over here from school since...Josh..what do we even do?”
I shrug, looking around. His house is a bit small and it doesn't seem like there's much to do. I start to walk over to the couch to sit next to him, and collapse., wincing in pain. He jumps up again and picks me up, helping me to sit.
"P-Pete, are you sure you're okay?"
I rub my ankle, frowning. "I think I twisted my ankle when I fell. I'll be fine, I just need to rest it."
He stands over me, fidgeting. "C-Can I help?"
"Um... could you maybe get me some ice or something?" I ask quietly, not wanting to be a burden. Patrick nods and runs to the kitchen. He comes back a moment later and hands me a bag of frozen peas. I lift my leg onto the couch and lie down, propping my ankle on the armrest. Patrick sits down next to me awkwardly and puts the peas on my ankle.
"Thanks, Patrick. That feels better. I'm really sorry for what I did."
"It's okay," Patrick replies. "To be honest, I hated that dumb chair. Yeah it was really important to my mom, but it gave her reason to remind me I'm fat."
I nod, understanding completely. "Then I'm glad I broke it. Trust me, after I'm done with her, she won't even remember you were in the house when it broke. I have the magic touch."
"Just don't fuck my mom, man. That's weird." Patrick replies, laughing loudly. I choke on air and start laughing with him.
"That's the sickest thing you've said, Stumph. No worries there, might I remind you I'm gay."
Patrick nods, still laughing. He accidentally nudges my ankle and flinches as I gasp.
"Sorry sorry sorry sorry!" Patrick stands up, starting to panic. I roll my eyes and grab his arm, pulling him back down onto the couch. He stares at me, eyes wide.
"Patrick, stop. I told you I'm fine. It's just a little twist, I didn't break it. A little ice and it'll be all better." I sit up a bit, repositioning my leg and giving him more room to sit.
"I r-really should stop freaking out..."
"You just need to chill, seriously. It's been a bad day and you need to relax."
I sit up straighter, moving closer. "Here, let me help." Patrick looks at me, worried. I raise an eyebrow at him and he nods, sitting still. I place my hands on his shoulders and start rubbing slowly. He practically melts into my hands as I massage. I can see him close his eyes and lean back towards me slightly. I begin to massage his shoulder blades, moving down slowly. He lets out a small noise of relief, relaxing more by the second. His eyes open slightly as I move my hands lower down his back.
Suddenly, the front door opens and a voice that I assume belongs to his mother interrupts us.
"What exactly is going on, and who is this?"