"Because You're Mine" (one-shot prompt fic)

The train tracks are old and abandoned now. It’s all for the better though because now Patrick can take the liberty of walking down the very center of them, pretending that he has to outrun a rogue train. Squinting in the early morning sun, he likes to think he can see the ghosts of those men and women who have used the very same tracks as a way to a better life. He also wonders if maybe when he’s gone his ghost will joint theirs because he too is looking for a better state of mind. That state is really still in Illinois, the same state he was born and raised in. However, that doesn’t matter when the place he’s going might as well be a different country.

It is summer now and the heat is slowly creeping up in the high eighties; it’s supposed to reach ninety-four today. His mom thinks he’s hanging out with Jason, one of his friends from school. Jason thinks he’s grounded. This elaborate plan has been set in motion because, for once in Patrick’s short fifteen-years, he is going to break the rules. He’s going to walk from his hometown to Wilmette, an hour and a half’s trek on foot, following these tracks that run by his neighborhood and also happen to run right besides a certain nineteen year-old’s apartment building. Sweat is starting to trickle down from where his hat sits tightly against his head. He’s glad that he thought to put on extra deodorant. In the distance, he can hear the sounds of traffic floating over from the highway. Maybe he could convince Pete or Andy to drive him back home later that night because, fuck it’s hot and his legs are starting to hurt from the exertion he’s put on his not-so-tone muscles.

"Who dropped you off?" Pete lets the door fall open and walks back over to the drooping couch, expecting Patrick to close it behind him.

"No one. I walked." The younger boy is both proud and embarrassed; proud because he didn’t chicken out, and embarrassed because he’s afraid Pete will figure him out.

Pete looks up, eyebrows reaching up to his hairline. He looks over at the clock on his VCR; it’s only nine in the morning. "Why?"

He doesn’t tell the truth because the truth would illustrate just how much of a little kid Patrick sill is. "I wanted to get a jump start on the new song." Sounding calm, he takes a seat, far enough from Pete to keep his pulse steady. Pete is still dressed just in boxer briefs which are slanted at an angle on his defined hips. Patrick looks away when his eyes start to wander; he purses his lips and stares up at Pete from beneath the brim of his hat.

A smile blooms on Pete’s face as he slings an arm around the smaller boy’s shoulders. "Come to bed with me. It’s too early for similes and innuendo." Pulling Patrick up, Pete directs him down the short hall to the only bedroom in the place. Pete flicks Patrick’s hat off, and grabs him by the wrist, dragging him into the double bed. Once in the confines of Pete’s universe, Patrick both relaxes and tenses at the same time. "You’re just like my teddy bear from childhood." Pete practically coos in Patrick’s ear, arm wrapped securely around his chest, tips of fingers barely ghosting the skin beneath the neck of his shirt. "Innocent and strong."

Just before he falls asleep, Patrick wonders if Pete knows he’s a hypocrite.