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Pete comes to Patrick.
Patrick offers up a prayer of thanks to a god he hasn’t believed in for at least a decade.
They stare at each other for a long time before Patrick steps back to let him in, Pete forlorn, Patrick just looking at him, taking in the shaved head, his face, searching for something.
He’s not sure he finds it.
Pete follows him to the bed like Patrick had followed him into the band, onto the stage, across the country, around the world.
He swallows a lump in his throat and says, “It’s over, isn’t it?”
Pete looks him in the eyes for the first time in Patrick doesn’t know how long. “The band? Yes.”
Patrick nods. He had thought as much, but it doesn’t stop him from feeling sick. “And us?” he asks, which is the question he really wants to know the answer to.
Pete makes an abortive shake of his head, then cocks it to the side. “One more time?” he says.
Patrick nods, feeling relief wash over him even as grief courses through his body. “One more time.”
He lets Pete push him down on the bed and kiss him long and slow. They stay like that for a long time, maybe hours, kissing soft-slow-gentle then hard-fast-rough. Making out properly for the first time in months.
It doesn’t feel like a hello though. It feels like a goodbye.
After a while, Pete rolls off of him and without talking about it, they both rid themselves of their pants and underwear.
“I-I’m ready for you,” Patrick admits as Pete grasps his hips and moving him into position. Pete gives him a long, slow look and he feels pathetic. They’ve barely had sex in months, and there was no guarantee Pete would come tonight. But Patrick had prepared himself even so, just in case. He hadn’t wanted to wait. He had hoped Pete would come.
In some ways, the hope he’s carried this whole time makes him feel the most pathetic of all.
Pete pushes Patrick’s knees up and apart, then parts Patrick’s asscheeks. Pete’s breath hitches. Patrick knows what he’s seeing - his hole, loose and open and soaking. Ready.
Now that he’s here, Patrick wishes he hadn’t prepped himself in advance. If Pete had had to do it, it would have lasted longer. He wants this to go on forever, wants to live in this moment with Pete, so he doesn’t have to live in the next one without him.
But Pete is already lining up his dick with Patrick’s hole, sliding in easily. Both of them release quiet gasps, more out of familiarity than pleasure.
Here we are, Patrick thinks for the last time. Home.
Pete smiles down at him as he bottoms out. Patrick knows he’s thinking the same thing.
Pete takes his hands, holds them, holds them above Patrick’s head as he starts to move inside him.
Patrick lets his eyes flutter closed, the feeling in his chest tender and soft, until he remembers that this is the last time. He forces them open again. He wants to capture every moment.
Pete is gazing down at him intensely as he moves above Patrick. Neither of them make too much noise, only occasional gasps and sighs escaping their lips.
Patrick misses the days when Pete would encourage him to be vocal, to make as much noise as possible. During sex they could go from dirty talk to normal conversation to hysterical laughter and back again at the drop of a hat.
But now they’re quiet, Pete grunting occasionally as he fucks Patrick. He changes the angle slightly so he’s hitting Patrick’s prostate at every thrust. Patrick sighs and falls back into oblivion, thankful to have no more thoughts.
As Pete draws closer to his peak, he brings their joined hands between their bodies and wraps them around Patrick’s dick.
Patrick smiles up at him before moaning and sinking into sensation.
Afterwards, he doesn’t remember if Pete smiled back.
They come together, a whisper rather than a shout, sensation fizzing lightly through Patrick body instead of reaching him deep in the guts like it has in the past. He wants to go again, a do over, one last time all night until they can’t go anymore, but Pete is already reaching for tissues, cleaning Patrick up before tucking him under the covers.
Pete doesn’t stay. Patrick doesn’t ask him to.
“One day,” Patrick says desperately as Pete opens the door. “One day this’ll be right, we can make it work, yeah?”
Pete casts a frightened glance in Patrick’s direction then looks away. “I don’t know,” he whispers.
Then he’s gone.