“Do you wanna head up?” Patrick asks. “I’ll grab us some drinks.”
They do this sometimes. Knowing Ray is still awake but wanting to spend some time at least partially alone, the separation of the door to Patrick’s room is often enough for the small moments they crave. They’re eventually able to steal some alone alone time, if they wait it out until Ray says goodnight (because he always does) and they confirm his lights are off and he’s in for the night.
“Sure,” David says, easily rubbing Patrick’s shoulder on his way up the stairs.
When the list of open mic performers finally came to an end — Twyla closing the night with a surprisingly tolerable cover of “Wildest Dreams” — the store felt especially quiet. The echo of the performance that had started the event filled every corner of the otherwise empty space. Patrick wrapped his arms around David’s waist, leaned in to gently place a kiss on David’s neck before resting his chin on his shoulder. “Wanna stay over tonight?” he had asked.
David just clung tighter and hummed affirmatively, as if there were any other answer.
He doesn’t want to get too comfortable in bed without completing his skincare routine, so when Patrick joins him upstairs with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, David is sitting in the small red chair beside the bed, his shoes on the floor and his feet curled up beneath him.
David spots the bottle and nods appreciatively. “Good call.”
Patrick pours them both a glass and walks over to David, handing one to him. David accepts it readily, but before Patrick can get too far, David uses his free hand to slide up behind Patrick’s head and pull him down into a kiss. It’s slow and sweet. A preamble.
Patrick takes off his jeans and black button down, leaving him in a white undershirt and boxers, lounging on the bed while David stays curled in his seat. Somehow, the distance between them feels like nothing.
It’s quiet for a minute, and then David asks, “Why did you choose that song?”
Patrick hesitates, his glass halfway to his lips. He lets out a chuckle and says, “I don’t know if you want the real answer to that,” before taking a swig of alcohol.
David swirls the liquid in his glass and raises a daring eyebrow at Patrick.
Patrick sighs and sets his glass onto his bedside table. “Okay,” he concedes. He wrings his hands a bit, looks down at them as he talks. “One of the days we were getting the store ready to open, your phone was playing music. The song came on shuffle and — I don’t know, there was just something about the way you were reacting to it. Moving so mindlessly to the sound of it, mouthing all the words. It was the first time I really noticed how intimate that song is.” Patrick looks up at David. “I remember thinking it would actually be really beautiful sung to someone.”
A memory crops up for David then. He was in a club somewhere, dancing with a girl he’d met earlier that night at a friend’s apartment. The fact he can’t remember any specific details about these people is telling in a way he doesn’t have the capacity to process right now. Instead, he thinks about the two of them being out on the dance floor when “The Best” started playing. It had always been one of his favorite songs, having struck a chord with him he could never really explain.
He remembers offering a comment about how much he loved the song, secretly hoping it would unlock a more thoughtful response, but the girl had replied, “I know, Whitney is amazing.” David couldn’t tell if she was joking, intoxicated, racist, or any combination of the three, but either way, when they were done dancing, he gracefully excused himself.
And yet somehow, Patrick noticed without even being prompted. Without even really knowing David yet. It was a deep vulnerability, one that David would have never elected to experience before.
He lets out a deep breath. “Patrick Brewer.” David’s voice is slow and methodical. He tastes Patrick’s name on his tongue like a top-shelf brand of whiskey; the real glass he had been poured is long forgotten. “You’re really a piece of work, aren’t you?” he adds. There’s no bite to it. Or maybe there is, but it’s just the right amount, David thinks.
Patrick grins, shrugging just slightly before his shoulders shake with a laugh. “Ah, aren’t we all?”
David finally gets up from the chair and joins Patrick in bed. He climbs over Patrick’s body to reach his side — god, he has a side — and settles facing his boyfriend. They look at each other for a moment, comfortable with the silence. They’re still about an arm’s length away, but they don’t rush to close the distance. David reaches out, his touch finding the front of Patrick’s shirt. He toys with the light fabric, watching his fingers dance over Patrick’s ribs as they follow the slight rise and fall of his breathing.
David presses his lips together, shakes his head, grips the fabric tighter. “No one’s ever…” He sighs with his eyes closed before his gaze fully meets Patrick’s, who is looking at him patiently. He doesn’t really know how to fill in the rest.
Patrick’s fingers skim the inside of David’s wrist. His fingertips tread lightly over the delicate plane of David’s skin, the small veins that he can trace from wrist to inner elbow. Patrick’s eyes and voice are equally gentle when he nods and says, “It’s okay.” Not in a placating way. Not dismissively. Patrick understands . He knows what David’s trying to say.
They’re quiet for a few moments before — of course — the door barges open.
“Well, gentlemen, I just wanted to say good night.” Ray claps his hands together and smiles brightly. “Great job again, Patrick. Bob sure had a tough act to follow.”
David attempts to pull his hand away, but Patrick lightly holds his forearm to keep it in place. “Thanks, Ray,” he says. “Night.”
Ray nods, taking a lot longer than anyone needs as he backs out of the room, but then he finally does. He leaves the door open.
Patrick sighs and drops David’s arm. He starts to get up and says, “I’m gonna take a quick shower.”
David nods, looking down at the bedspread. He’s not avoiding Patrick. Sometimes, he just needs to give himself time to process. And Patrick never pressures him. Instead, he places a quick kiss to the part of David that’s closest — his shoulder — before heading out of the room, effectively closing the door on his way.
David spends some time going through his skincare routine and then quietly sneaks into the hallway to take a peek at Ray’s door. Like a goddamn child up past his bedtime. But, though he denied it to Stevie, these are desperate times.
The door is shut, with no light streaming out of the space between the bottom of the door and the floor. David’s stomach flutters as he makes his way back into Patrick’s bed.
When Patrick comes back, he’s wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist. David admires the view — Patrick’s naked back, broad shoulders, the swell of his ass covered by the towel — as he busies himself at his dresser, opening one of the drawers, presumably to grab either pajamas or briefs. David decides that won’t do.
He easily climbs out of bed and walks confidently over to Patrick, arms immediately sliding around his waist from behind. David hooks his chin over Patrick’s shoulder and whispers his name.
Patrick easily laces their fingers together. “Hm?”
“Can I kiss you?” David asks, low and hot.
Patrick turns his head, face close enough to David’s so their noses brush, and nods with a sweet, soft smile tugging at his mouth. “Yeah.”
David immediately closes the distance between them with a kiss, as best as he can manage at this angle. There’s a subtle heat still radiating off Patrick’s skin from the shower. David’s hands find his hips and guide him to turn around. Patrick leans back against his dresser, holding David close with his hands at the small of his back. It doesn’t take them long to fall into it, their kisses heated and bodies needy. David holds one of his arms around Patrick’s waist and his other hand cups his jaw as they sway gently, giving in to each other’s push and pull.
Patrick’s hands slip underneath the hem of David’s sweater, his fingers touching the skin just above his waistband. He pulls back and kisses David’s cheek, then just below his ear.
“Can I more than kiss you?” Patrick whispers.
David replies with another kiss to his lips, breaking apart just enough to murmur, “Yes,” against them.
A few moments later, David notes Patrick pulling the towel free from around his waist to let it drop to the floor.
David whimpers, and while in any other situation it would have been a sound of desire, right now it’s a response to Patrick’s carelessness. David swiftly picks up the wet towel from the floor and drapes it on the hook behind the closed door. When he notices Patrick eying him, David explains, “It would have been bothering me the whole time.”
Patrick simply twists his grin and chuckles. “The whole time...what, David?”
Instead of dignifying that with a response, David leans in to press his lips to the sensitive point of Patrick’s jaw, brushing hotly against his stubble before traveling up and letting his teeth graze his earlobe.
Patrick emits a shaky, high-pitched whine caught in his throat. David’s lips turn up in a triumphant smile as he continues dragging his teeth lighty over Patrick’s ear, teasing just enough to remain in control for a few more moments.
It’s unclear which one of them makes the first move toward the bed, but all of a sudden David is walking backward while Patrick’s hands shuffle to grab the hem of his sweater and push it upwards. David pulls back to take the sweater off and sits on the bed. Patrick is right there with him, bracketing him in with his hands planted on the bed on either side of David.
He holds Patrick’s face in his hands and sighs into the next kiss, finally allowing himself to click into the moment with a new clarity, a new and focused perspective. He starts to shuffle back, but stops for long enough to rid himself of his jeans before he and Patrick climb into bed.
They don’t rush into anything, which seems to be a theme for the night. Instead, David lifts the covers for both of them to slide underneath and they easily fit themselves together. Both on their sides, David wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck and kisses him soundly before Patrick tucks his face into David’s neck, one of his hands drifting up and down his spine. Patrick presses light kisses to his pulse point, just barely sneaking his tongue to brush against David’s skin. David sighs again.
It’s a soft moment. They’re holding each other so intimately, yet their touches aren’t particularly hinting. There’s still a fire simmering beneath the surface, though. A burner with the flame set to low heat.
Patrick slots one of his knees between David’s legs — not adding any pressure, just further entangling them. David shivers when Patrick lets his nails lightly travel down his side before resting his hand at David’s waist.
He feels so bare. Exposed. And not just physically. Much like Patrick’s performance, he feels stripped down to his most basic form — the carefully curated structure falls away, and left are the most authentic and fundamental parts of himself. The parts that once felt like too much, and sometimes still do. Patrick seems to like them anyway.
David unwraps his arms from Patrick’s shoulders to let his hand drift over Patrick’s hair. He hums lightly and rests their foreheads together. “When did you start playing guitar?” he asks.
Patrick rests a hand on David’s chest, mindlessly exploring the hair there. “Grade seven.”
“Mhm,” David nods. “Okay. Follow up question.” He toys with a few short strands at the nape of Patrick’s neck. “Have you ever performed the song Wonderwall ?”
Patrick chuckles. “Well, you know. Sometimes you’re with friends out by a campfire, you start an innocent sing-a-long. People tend to have requests. And who am I to deny the people what they want?”
David wants to roll his eyes, but god, that smile . Patrick’s eyes . He’s so fucking beautiful. No matter how hard David tries to keep his smile tucked into the side of his face, Patrick never fails to reveal an unabashed warmth that David feels spread to the more prickly corners of his mind.
When was the last time one of his partners made him so goddamn happy? So free to feel cared for? David knew if he let himself get too comfortable, he might lead himself so far down an unfamiliar path that it would be hard to turn around and head back somewhere safe.
But Patrick was drawing a pretty good map.
Patrick kisses David’s neck and says, “I meant it, though.” He isn’t sure what Patrick’s referring to, until he follows up with, “You really are the best.”
David huffs a breath. “Okay,” he quips. “I tolerated it on stage, but this isn’t gonna turn into, like, a thing .”
Patrick lowers his voice to a soothing lilt, a quieter version of what he sounded like in front of all those people. Except now it was just the two of them. He sings into David’s ear, while also continuing to pepper his skin with kisses, “ Take my heart and make it strong, babe. ”
“M-m.” David shakes his head and leans away, torn between letting this sweet man continue kissing him and needing to maintain some of his dignity. “No singing to me in bed.”
“Ever?” The typical teasing edge to Patrick’s voice matches the mock incredulous look on his face. David hates that he doesn’t hate it.
He tucks his teeth between his lips to hide a smile — much like how he had spent most of the song while Patrick sang on stage — and shakes his head. “Ever,” he says definitively, before effectively changing the subject by pulling Patrick in for a deep kiss.
This time when they start making out again, it’s leading somewhere. Patrick’s mouth is warm and familiar against his. He gets lost in it easily, feeling himself drop further into the moment when Patrick guides him to lie down so he can straddle his body. It’s a welcoming weight, Patrick’s body fit against his — like a plug in a socket, he’s lit up from the inside.
His hands are on Patrick’s back, exploring the gorgeous expanse of skin that only he gets to see, only he gets to feel against his palms. Patrick kisses with his whole body. He’s intentional about it, whether he’s leaving David with a fleeting press of the lips and a hand on his waist, or perhaps a teasing wink as he retreats to let David know exactly what he’s doing. Other times, he captures every inch of David’s body — with his touch, yes, but also with unbridled attention. He’s still having a difficult time wrapping his head around it, the fact that someone would look so closely, so carefully, and not only stay, but keep looking further. It’s a lot.
Their kisses become hotter and more insistent. Patrick fits his hand at David’s jaw and slips his tongue into his mouth, eliciting a soft whimper. It’s practiced in a way that still leaves David breathless. He holds Patrick’s waist and pulls back to try and get some air in his lungs. Patrick doesn’t stop, though. His rushed, wet kisses move to a spot far enough away from David’s neck that if he accidentally leaves a mark, it could be hidden by a sweater.
Patrick isn’t one to do things accidentally, though.
His breath is hot against David’s skin when he asks, “What do you want?” He kisses down to David’s chest fiercely and his hands skim across David’s ribs.
“What do you want, Patrick?” David asks. “You’ve already given me something. I…” he trails off, breaking to let out a soft moan when Patrick’s mouth closes around his nipple. David gently pets the back of his head. “I want to do something for you.”
Patrick’s face is suddenly mirroring his own, close enough to see each individual eyelash. It’s terrifyingly intimate. It’s beautiful.
“Hey,” Patrick says softly, his face scrunched in distress. “That’s not what this is.” Patrick reaches up to stroke David’s cheek with his thumb. He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth and then moves his thumb across one of his eyebrows. “You don’t have to do anything in return.”
David could melt right here in this bed. He wants to sink into it and have it swallow him whole, because that would be less disruptive than the workings of his brain when Patrick says sweet things to him.
He pulls Patrick down into another kiss, slow and deliberate. When he pulls away, he adds, “What if I want to?”
Patrick heaves a shaky breath and nods, muttering a quiet, “Okay,” before closing the distance between them once more. David feels it deep in his chest — the kiss, the feeling of their bodies pressed together, the moment as a whole. They’re both so fully present and turned on, it feels as if they have all the time in the world, yet that’s somehow not enough.
David’s hands drift down to Patrick’s ass, urging their hips together. Patrick’s almost fully hard. David’s well on his way, still in his briefs. He almost misses the sigh of pleasure Patrick lets out when David’s hands rest just at the swell of his ass, the pads of his fingers starting to dip lower.
“ David ,” Patrick practically whines. David isn’t sure he’s ever heard his boyfriend’s voice so wrecked.
Patrick shifts slightly backwards, into David’s hands. He follows that, adding a little pressure as his touch travels further down. Patrick’s breath continues to get quicker and more shallow, so David checks in. “Okay?”
“Yes,” Patrick breathes into his shoulder. “Please, I want you.”
“Okay, okay.” David presses a kiss to Patrick’s temple. “Hang on.”
He reaches over to where he knows Patrick keeps lube in the bedside drawer. David grabs it, but before he can close the drawer, Patrick says, “Wait,” and leans over, rummaging around for something else.
Patrick returns, holding a condom, and looks at David without a trace of doubt.
David hesitates for a moment. Because they haven’t done that yet. There have been words exchanged in the heat of the moment, both of them pent up and eager. There have been a few careful conversations about it. But they still haven’t done that yet. “You sure?” David finally says.
Patrick nods. “I want to, but only if you do, too.”
“God, yeah,” David breathes, before reaching for Patrick’s face and kissing him fiercely, quickly. He pulls back and then asks, nodding toward the condom, “For me, or you?”
Patrick gives him a soft smile in return, and David knows they’re both thinking back to the same conversation.
They had been lounging on the couch during a low key night at Ray’s. They weren’t completely alone in the house, but they felt comfortable enough to keep the space between them at an absolute minimum. David rested in the crook of Patrick’s arm, his head on his chest and arm wrapped around his waist. They were watching a random episode of a BBC show David had seen too many times, and every once in a while, he would tilt his head back, or Patrick would sink down to meet David, and they’d get lost in each other for a while, delicate hands and eager lips.
At one point, David pulled away and asked, “Can I ask you a question?” Patrick was quietly panting, eyes flicking down to David’s mouth quickly before refocusing. When he nodded, David continued by clarifying, “It’s a sexy question,” accompanied with a quick shake of his shoulders.
Patrick propped himself up on one of his elbows and raised his eyebrow at David. “I’m listening.”
David hadn’t been entirely sure how to broach the topic, but he wanted to make sure Patrick knew it was a conversation they should both be comfortable having. Not that it would necessarily dictate anything, but it could break the barrier of talking about things they’d need to communicate about when the time came.
“Do you know what you want?” David asked. “Even if you’re not ready to...do certain things, I want to make sure you’re comfortable when we get there. And I know people tend to have certain preferences. So I’d like to prepare for that.”
He hated how formal and official he sounded, but at least it was out there.
Then of course, because Patrick somehow always knew how to follow his disorderly train of thought, he chuckled and teased, “That was such a proper way of asking if I want to be a top or bottom.”
David did not blush at that. Oh my god . He stared at the buttons on Patrick’s shirt. “Okay, but it’s not something you want to be , so much as you just want . To do. If at all. I just mean.” He was rambling. He shook his head. “I’m just curious if you’ve thought about it.” David shrugged. “If you want to tell me. You can tell me. Or not.”
Patrick tilted David’s head up with a hand under his chin. His smile and gaze were soft. “David,” he said gently. Had his name ever sounded so gentle before? Patrick kissed his lips. “When I think about you...and me. There’s not much I don’t think about.”
And because David could tease, too, he followed with, “That’s a little vague, don’t you think?”
“David,” Patrick said again, somehow even gentler. Not that David was tracking. “When we’re...together — you make me feel good.” His arms slipped around David’s neck, guiding him to rest comfortably against Patrick’s chest. “I can’t imagine not wanting to at least try something, if we both wanted it.” He shrugged one of his shoulders. “The rest is details. But I don’t have any...preferences. As long as it’s with you.”
David nodded a little manically. “Okay,” he breathed. “Good. That’s good. Me too.”
“Good,” Patrick added, grinning.
So when they found themselves alone those few, precious times, they made each other feel good.
David thinks back to the firsts they’ve experienced together. The night at Stevie’s. The gift of Ray being out of town for a night. The day at the motel when his parents and Alexis went shopping and David made sure Alexis knew to give him ample warning for when they’d be back. He and Patrick had found those moments to connect , and he was so fucking glad they did, because each time was better than the last. Not necessarily because of what they were doing — of course, that had been great, too — but because the more opportunities they had to share that privacy, that intimacy, the more they knew what they were missing when they were forced to go without it. And the sweeter the payoff each time they managed to make it happen again.
This time felt different, though. They all did, but tonight. That song . That moment of absolute clarity that washed over him. As Patrick sang, each of the muscles that had held tension in David’s body from the moment Patrick mentioned the idea of an open mic night started to relax. The panic managed to dissipate and leave in its wake a soothing rush of ease. Relief.
Which is why David is the furthest thing from guarded when Patrick finally replies, “For you?” He forms it as a question, his hand resting gently on David’s chest. “Is that okay?”
David delivers an encouraging nod and collects the lube and condom. “Perfect.” And then with a tap to Patrick’s hip, he says, “We should switch.”
It’s a little less than graceful, their tangled legs posing a challenge to the simple task of rearranging themselves in bed. They share an easy laugh as Patrick lies back with a pillow under his hips and David settles between his legs.
He runs a soothing hand up and down Patrick’s thigh and presses a quick kiss to the inside of his knee. He wants nothing more than for Patrick to feel comfortable, taken care of. “Have you done this before?” David asks, eyes hinting. “To yourself?”
Patrick shrugs and says, “Few times,” as if that’s something totally casual that David wouldn’t find completely compelling.
David’s jaw drops open on its own volition. “And you didn’t tell me about it?” he asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.
Patrick just laughs and looks down at him. “What would you have wanted me to say? Walk into the store like, ‘Good morning, David. We’re getting a shipment of new knit hats today, and also let me tell you about this fun thing I did alone in bed last night?’”
David smiles wickedly, thinking about how much he would have actually loved that scenario. “So you had fun then?”
There’s a pink tinge in Patrick’s cheeks that’s so damn cute and sexy all at once. “Come on, David,” he deflects, eyes darting around the room.
“What?” he asks, his cheek resting against Patrick’s hip as he gazes up at him innocently. “Just trying to weigh the competition.”
Patrick drops his head back onto the pillow and sighs deeply. “I hate you.”
David hums, leaning down to brush his lips against Patrick’s skin. “I don’t think you do, though,” he says, starting to press hot, wet kisses to the inside of his thigh.
Patrick merely whines in response and David knows that’s his cue to continue. His fingers travel over Patrick’s other thigh before dropping down to tease his rim, wanting Patrick to experience his light touch before they go further. He gets just close enough and then reaches for the bottle of lube.
Before he continues, David looks up at Patrick, reaching for the hand he has wrapped in the sheets to get his attention. “Is this okay? Or would you rather I join you up there for this?”
Patrick seems to be genuinely considering his options, eyebrows furrowing slightly before he says, “Can you come here?” His voice is small but sure.
David nods quickly, steadying himself with one hand on the mattress and the other at Patrick’s waist. He makes his way up the bed with a short trail of kisses up Patrick’s chest. When they’re face to face, Patrick pulls him in for a kiss. It’s closed mouthed and steady and achingly sweet.
When they pull away, Patrick’s eyes stay closed and his mouth quirks up momentarily. He blinks his eyes open and whispers, “Thanks.”
“No problem.” David opens the bottle and coats his finger. Before he reaches down, he says, “Still okay?”
Patrick nods tightly, only to relax the moment David’s finger brushes against his rim. “David, please .”
David leans his forehead against Patrick’s. “Okay, I’ve got you.”
He starts out gently with one finger, but it isn’t long until Patrick is asking for another, which delights David immensely. David opens him up, going more for efficiency than build up, considering Patrick’s already making those addicting sounds David has become so familiar with over the last month.
When David adds a third finger, he notices Patrick’s thighs begin to tremble. He starts rocking his hips to meet David’s hand, so he asks, “Do you want me to—?”
“Yeah.” Patrick pulls David down into an indulgent kiss. He’s a little out of breath when he continues, “I’m ready, honey. Ready for you.”
David feels something elegant bloom in his chest, silently noting how Patrick called him ‘honey.’ He’s sparing with pet names to begin with, so something about him using the one David mostly used for him — it feels a little more special. Coupled with the declaration that he’s ready for David. He knows Patrick means physically, but still. It’s not something he’s used to hearing from a partner. It shakes him a bit, but he doesn’t completely falter. David thinks for a moment that if he were able to bottle that particular emotion, he wouldn’t constantly need to wonder how much longer he’d get to have Patrick before the other shoe drops.
He shakes the negative thought from his mind and refocuses, going through the anticipatory motions of putting on the condom and slicking himself up with lube. He’s about to line himself up when Patrick stops him. For a moment David thinks maybe he changed his mind, but Patrick’s eyes are talking to him before any words leave his lips. His arms wrap around David’s shoulders, comforting and sure. “Hey,” he says gently. “ You still okay?”
“Are you kidding me?” David says, with enough exaggeration for Patrick to recognize his well-placed dramatics. He reaches down to stroke himself, the build up agonizing yet perfect. “Patrick, I know that— god —I know consent is sexy and I appreciate that. But I’m very much okay. Way better than okay.” He smirks. “Excellent. Wonderful.” He pauses one more time and then says, “Can I please fuck you now?”
At that, Patrick swears and nods, his chest heaving even more. From David’s perspective, he looks high off the adrenaline that’s certainly flowing through them both. It creates a stunning glow on Patrick that David rarely gets to see. He’s always so mindful and put-together, but when those moments of bliss manage to relax Patrick’s shoulders and smooth out the scrunch of his forehead, David reels. He did that. It feels significant.
When David finally pushes into him, it’s slow and careful. His head drops onto Patrick’s shoulder and he can feel Patrick’s chest heaving underneath him.
“Feel okay?” David asks.
Patrick just breathes. “Gimme a minute.”
David brushes his hand over Patrick’s ribs, thumb stroking over his skin. “Whatever you need.”
Patrick lets out another giant breath. It’s a few more moments of silence before David quietly insists, “I can pull out if—”
“No,” he says in a rush when David shifts to start doing just that. He feels Patrick grab onto his bicep and watches Patrick’s face start to relax, his head slightly tilted back. His voice is a little less tense when he nods and he says, “You can move.”
He does. It’s tight, but in the best way. He keeps it slow at first, wanting to give Patrick time to get used to the feeling. David’s trying to go off his cues, but when a sound reaches his ears that he’s never heard before — something uninhibited and gravelly, and admittedly hot — he doesn’t quite know how to read it.
David’s voice is slightly panicked as he says, “I don’t want to keep going if you’re uncomfortable, honey.”
“No, no. It just feels…” Patrick hums, pitched a bit higher than usual. “Really full. But it’s fine.”
“ Fine ?!” David exclaims. But he’s smiling. “ Fine , Patrick?!”
Another beautiful smile graces Patrick’s face as he laughs in reply. The knot in David’s chest loosens a little. “Hey,” Patrick says, reaching up to fit a hand behind David’s head. “Focus.”
David eyes him. “What else could I possibly focus on right now?”
“Exactly.” Patrick’s free hand reaches for David’s ass, guiding him down while he shifts his hips up. “C’mon, keep going,” he breathes.
David sputters, but also groans at the feeling of finally being able to move more freely inside Patrick. “Okay, there’s only room for one bossy bottom in this relationship.”
Patrick tightens his grip as they follow each other’s give and take. “Something for us to figure out when we do this the other way around, huh?”
David doesn’t have time to follow that train of thought right now. Instead, he makes the smallest adjustment, changing the angle just enough in hopes of eliciting a brand new reaction out of Patrick.
“ Oh ,” Patrick moans, slow and indulgent. David can practically feel the tension begin to dissipate from Patrick’s body. He looks so fucking stunning. They’ve been in this position before, but this is a whole new level. David knows he isn’t coming down any time soon.
“Yeah?” David replies. “Good? Or still just fine?”
Rather than respond, Patrick pulls David down into a steady kiss.
Patrick’s hands slip around to David’s back, palms flat as they travel up to his shoulder blades. Patrick bends his knees, his feet planted on the mattress, and shifts his hip up more steadily. David takes the opportunity to make it even better.
“Here,” David says, pulling away from the kiss to reach for Patrick’s shins and push them further up. David continues fucking him slowly and watches as Patrick bites back what would probably be a loud moan.
“God, look at you.” David’s hooks one of his arms under Patrick’s knee, maintaining the angle that has him writhing. The position makes David groan, too. “You’re so gorgeous.”
“ Ohh , my god,” Patrick whines, body stretched out in pleasure, back arching, sweat glistening at his hairline. His hands grasp for any part of David they can reach as his entire body rides out every movement. “So good, David. Fuck ,” he says, tightly gripping David’s shoulder. His words are rushed and quiet, as if they’re spilling out of him with no effort.
He hadn’t planned on becoming so unhinged, but Patrick’s reactions set something off in him. David pets his thigh and finds himself saying, “You’re so good to me, Patrick.” His eyes fall closed, overwhelmed with emotion. After the night they had, it feels like the right time to say it. “I wanna be good for you, too.”
“You are, you are, David,” Patrick replies, his voice strained, his eyes delicate and pleading. “C’mere.” His hand slips up to tangle in David’s hair and pulls him closer until their lips meet in a scorching kiss.
David sinks into it eagerly. After weeks of taking advantage of those alone moments, he’s just starting to become accustomed to the way Patrick feels beneath him. How it feels to have his hands roam across his body, and find spots with his lips that unravel Patrick’s sturdy exterior. The only thing better is Patrick’s hands on him . He can’t count the number of times he’s let his mind wander at the most inopportune times, imagining the feel of Patrick’s hands urging their hips together, the grip of his fingers tangled in David’s hair when he goes down on him. The fact he actually gets to experience these things makes his imagination that much more authentic, and as far as timing goes, often problematic.
Right now, one of Patrick’s hands is gripping the pillow behind his head, while the other slides down from David’s shoulder to his back. He finds purchase and urges David’s hips even more enthusiastically.
“Harder, David, please ,” Patrick pants. “I’m so close.”
David tucks his face into Patrick’s neck, one of his arms still hooked around his thigh, and his other forearm planted on the mattress beside his body. He focuses on giving Patrick what he needs, listening as more quiet moans escape him when David fucks him even harder, faster, trying to match the lingering tenderness of Patrick’s performance with each deliberate cant. The thought nearly makes him lose his balance.
So much so, David gets caught up in the moment and reveals in a rush, “God, I still can’t believe you sang that song,”
He can hear Patrick’s smarmy grin when he breathily replies, “Had to.” He kisses David’s shoulder. “Knew you’d love it.”
“ And, ” he continues, “Not to mention, you let me believe you might be anything less than talented, just to see me sweat. Was it worth it?”
“Completely,” Patrick reveals. He presses his lips to David’s jaw, his cheek, and then pauses to moan. Gathering himself, he says, “It’s not going to be nearly as gratifying next time.”
David wants to fight him on ‘ next time ,’ but he’s a little busy at the moment. He focuses instead on the unmistakable shiver that runs through Patrick’s body — the way he’s starting to curl in on himself, his body purely leading now as he clings tighter to David. He feels Patrick tighten around him and he can’t help the whine that he catches just in time before being too loud.
David lets Patrick’s leg fall back onto the mattress, allowing him to wrap his hand around him. Patrick is already fairly wet which, god , always turns David on so much. It doesn’t take long before Patrick is panting out a litany of, “yes, yes , David,” with an exquisite flush spreading across his chest.
When their kisses turn frantic and off-center, they pull back just enough to pant against each other’s mouths. David moves his hips and hand at the same tempo, the mattress quietly creaking beneath them. He welcomes the familiar feel of one of Patrick’s hands at the nape of his neck, while the other scrambles to find David’s free hand that’s hastily gripping the sheets. Patrick untangles them and easily threads their fingers together, pulling their intertwined hands up to rest beside his head.
David squeezes his hand at the same time he says, “Come on, baby.” It’s not a new endearment, but it tends to only come out in bed. Patrick had begrudgingly admitted he loved it — one night when they couldn’t go beyond making out, but they both knew exactly how to tease the edge. Like now. Except now, David wanted to give him everything. “I’ve got you. Come for me.”
He hears Patrick’s breath quicken at the same time his hips shift forward more insistently to meet David’s. Patrick’s hand tightens in David’s hair and all at once David feels Patrick’s release — his muscles constricting, rushed breath at David’s ear, spilling between their bodies. He eases up so Patrick can ride it out at his own pace. It’s the tantalizingly slow drag, along with the clenched feeling of Patrick all around him, that triggers David’s own orgasm. It’s sudden and intense and absolutely fucking perfect.
David slumps forward, dropping short, fleeting kisses up Patrick’s neck. He may be spent and exhausted, but he can’t seem to break away.
“ Fuck ,” Patrick breathes. There’s a light chuckle that David feels vibrating through Patrick’s chest. Paired with the heavy panting, David can’t help but preen. And then Patrick tells him, “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard before in my life.”
David squeezes his eyes shut and hides his reaction against the side of Patrick’s face. “Okay. You’re gonna need to give me a minute before you say those things.”
He feels Patrick’s hand run up and down his arm before he gives David a light tap. “Hey, can you—?”
David anticipates his request right away. “Oh, yeah. Sorry,” he says, carefully pulling out.
Patrick lets out a breath of relief and replies, “It’s okay.” He kisses the top of David’s head. “Thank you.”
David ties up the condom and throws it in the trash before making the short walk over to where he’d hung up Patrick’s towel from the shower. It’s still a little damp, so it’ll get the job done.
They clean up and drop dramatically into one another in bed. David sighs pleasantly as Patrick curls up against him— David likes being the little spoon a lot, but there’s something about being the one to hold Patrick, to provide him with that comfort that had been hidden inside himself for so long, that felt right.
Patrick rests his forehead on David’s chest and he breathes evenly. His thumb is rubbing soothing circles into the small of his back when he whispers, “David.”
His voice is a little uneven, so David rubs an encouraging hand up and down his back.
“Patrick,” he replies, equally quiet in the space between them.
He shakes with a little laugh and says, “You are…” He trails off, lifting his head to kiss David’s lips, his jaw, the space below his ear. He lets his teeth gently graze the lobe before he finishes, low and hot, “...the best.”
David immediately clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes. “My god,” he replies. He shoves at Patrick’s shoulders and turns to face away from him. “I’m breaking up with you.”
Without missing a beat, Patrick is pressed up behind him, effortlessly fitting his body against David’s. He nuzzles his face into David’s neck and his warm hand rests comfortably at David’s waist. “No, you’re not,” Patrick says knowingly, giving his hip a playful squeeze.
David rolls his eyes again even though Patrick can’t see. He sighs and shakes his head. “Whatever,” he says petulantly, blindly reaching to anchor himself with his hand intertwined with Patrick’s.
Patrick laughs again. Because apparently no matter what David throws at him, Patrick doesn’t falter.
If anything, it seems to pull him in deeper.
Instead of letting himself get too caught up in that thought, he settles, sinking further into Patrick’s arms. He eventually drifts off with Tina Turner annoyingly stuck in his head.