-1"there wasn't that fun"
Pete said drying off and putting his hoodie back on.
"ya, I can breath now" Patrick sighed
"you wanna grab dinner"
"I'd rather bring it back here"
"food is food doesn't matter where you eat it"
The two called a Chinese restaurant and picked it up. Pete order a ton of stuff. Patrick was stunned when they were handed 3 bags filled with take out.
"god I'm hungry" Pete said as the walked out. Patrick hadn't felt hungry until now.
"ya me to, I don't know if u got enough food though"
"naw I think we're ok"
When they arrived back at Patrick's beach house Pete laid out the feast. It wasn't as much as Patrick had thought, it was still a ton of food, around 8 boxes. Pete opened a bottle of coke and poured him and Patrick a glass.
"trick where you go"
"be hind you Pete"
"oh, ready to eat?"
"ya"
"can we eat in the room with a TV"
"I don't care, that would be the bed room though"
"any thing to get in bed with you"
Pete couldn't help but look at Patrick's stomach as they were sitting on the bed. Patrick was wearing a snug black t shirt, it was pulled tight around his bulging midsection. Pete found him self wondering how much weight Patrick had put on. He also couldn't help but watch Patrick eat. His eyes glued to the TV, taking two or three big bits before a long gulp of his soda. He's enjoying the food Pete thought. Pete went back to his meal, and occasionally stole looks at Patrick's soft stomach. He use to pinch and poke him, but now Patrick didn't like any ones hands on him. Pete was half tempted to poke his belly, but he knew better, old Patrick would have laughed but new Patrick could end up in a tail spin of depression. Patrick truly did look good he wasn't grossly over weight but defiantly much thicker then he use to be.
He wasn't at his heaviest no, Patrick had managed to shave off a little weight (mainly through not eating). But he looked good soft. He looked more more well Pete wasn't sure what he looked more like but he looked good. And his little pot belly was cute after all. Pete's heart broke every time he read a comment on there message board about his weight. It was so strange, every one bitched about how thin models were but if some one else put on weight they were too fat. You couldn't win. Patrick always acted like he didn't hear the comments or know what some people were saying but he did. And they had no right. Honestly how could you make fun of his looks with the insane talent he had. Patrick had more talent then in his dirty jeans then any one else Pete had met. He had the kind of voice people could only hope to get and took classes to get. It was hard to down play looks it was expected to be part of what they do. But it wasn't them it was the music.
"can you stop that"
"stop what"
"staring at me when I'm stuffing my face"
"I wasn't"
"ya you where, I-"
"you want some more soda"
"yes"
Finishing the meal (or a good part of it) Patrick sighed laying back on the bed, Pete followed his lead. Patrick's stomach was even rounder now and stuck out more. Patrick looked at his stomach, it was a bulge under his already to tight shirt. It didn't flatten out with him laying back, it stuck out and had even started to hang over his jeans a little.
"Jesus Christ I'm fat"
"no you not"
Patrick sat back up, causing his plump middle to look even plumper.
"ya then what's this"
"your tummy"
"guts more like it" he said laying back down.
"your not fat"
"ya I am, I got even more disgusting then I was before"
"no you didn't"
"oh yes I did, you cant honestly say that"
"you put on a little weight, but you look fine stop fussing over it"
" a little"
"ya, your chubby at best"
"I'm going on a diet"
"don't, you look good, I wouldn't lie to you"
"you wouldn't tell me I look like shit either"
"of course not"
"I'm going on a diet"
"I like your belly" Pete said laying his head on Patrick's stomach.
"I hate it, get off me"
Patrick laughed at Pete's pouty face.
"you know that doesn't work on me"
"damn"
"yes I am immune to the puppy dog face"
"curse you"
Pete laid his head back on Patrick's stomach and Patrick allowed him.
"I'm tired"
"me too"
"can I sleep in here?"
"ya"
"see you do love me"
"no I just don't feel like putting sheets on another bed because god knows you cant"
"ya I can"
"you don't even do your own laundry"
"so"
Patrick tossed to plates and cups on the floor and turned off the lights and TV. It was late and they were both tired from fighting spending the day at the beach and eating to the point of getting sick. Pete hoped in the bed like a kid and slid close to Patrick.
"you never cuddle any more" Pete yelled in a fit of mock rage.
"your so deranged"
"sorry, I've been watching to much day time TV"
They both erupted into a fit of mad laughter. Laughter was contagious. They weren't laughing at any thing in particular. Patrick was now sitting up face beat red and gasping for air. Pete was now on the floor holding his stomach and pleading for Patrick to stop. Patrick felt sick and light headed, tears were streaked down his face, which was bright red. Pete didn't look to much different. They were both laying down on the bed breathing heavy and letting the occasional giggle slip out.
"what was so funny"
"I have no clue trick, you just made me laugh"
They both begin to giggle and for a second Pete feared his stomach would burst.
"I'm so tired"
"you where me out Pete"
"in more ways then one"
The room fell silent.
"I love you Pete" Patrick said rolling over on his side.
Pete smiled to him self.
"back at ya, thanks for coming out here with me"
"I didn't have a choice"
"yes you did,"
"good night"
With in minuets Pete was sound asleep snoring lightly. Patrick lay awake staring up at the ceiling and let his mind wonder. A thousand random thoughts crossed his mind. 'I wonder if some one can die from laughing. Maybe, every thing kills you nowa days. Nowa days is a funny term. I think its an old person term. Why would I use it? I must have herd some on say it. What is spam? Does any one know? Or is it like hotdogs you just act like you know what's in them. Hot dogs are gross. I should call cat. I wonder why she likes cat better then Catherine… Catherine is a pretty name. She's hot what's a hot girl like her see in me? God Pete's snoring is annoying. I bet I could push him off the bed. Then he would stop. What is with my brain STOP…I need to sleep. How much sleep do people really need- there I go I do spend to much time in my head. I need to stop thinking so much.' More random things passed through his mind. He eventually fell asleep, blocking out all of his random thinking's and curling up in the blankets.
Pete woke up in the night cold he sat up and glanced around. Patrick was on his side with all the blankets pulled over him. "son of a bitch" He stood up out of the bed his feet touching the ice cold floor. "how high did he turn the air" Pete stumbled over to the bath room. "stupid bladder, I was having a good sleep then you wake me up" He sighed there was no use trying to reason with a body part. It was actually a bit crazy. Well more then a bit. Pete made a stop at the thermostat before hoping back into bed. Patrick groaned and for a minuet Pete was sure he had woken him up. Instead Patrick pulled his knees up to his chest and settled back into sleep. Pete pulled the blankets back over himself and slid a bit closer to Patrick. Laying on his back he gazed up at the ceiling.
'He's getting back to normal.' he thought. Hearing Patrick laugh like that made Pete feel like things would get better. Sure he had dragged Patrick across the country against his will. Well ok not against but he wasn't keen on the idea. Then he forced him to come to California because Pete wanted to go to the beach. But he did it. He put on a pair of to small board shorts to make Pete happy. Pete smiled this is what friends do. Force each other to do things that they are in no way shape or form comfortable with. Pete was ok with that. He could handle the look Patrick gave him when he was forced into doing something he really didn't want to do because after all of his bitching Patrick would give him that big smile that said 'you were so right'.
Pete thought about the dream he had been having. He had been having it for over a year now. He had asked his psychologist if it meant any thing and if he believed in premonitions. Of course his Dr. laughed at the second part and told him that his sub conscious was simply worrying about his friend and he was blaming him self. He then asked what Pete thought it meant. This was what Pete hated about his doctor, Pete paid him a couple thousand dollars and yet all he could ever say was, 'well Pete what do you think about this' or 'How do you think your should handle the situation' and the personal favorite 'How does this make you feel'. Pete glanced at Patrick and sighed. He's really going to be ok, Pete thought. Pete curled up next to Patrick, listing to him breath in and out slowly Pete fell in to a deep and dreamless sleep for the first time in months.
