Let’s Meet in The Purgatory of My Hips
“Pete, I just can’t do this anymore!” Patrick cried out, standing up from the couch in the living room of Pete’s house.
“Do what? Patrick, I don’t understand.” Pete replied, shifting in his seat. He tucked his legs in close, rearranging them from where they once were.
“This! Us, whatever we are.” Patrick replied, his hands curling into fists by his side. He paced angrily across the room.
“Uh, we’re friends. Do you not want to be friends anymore?” Pete asked. He knew that if Patrick didn’t want to be friends then they wouldn’t be, even if it made it difficult for the band.
“No, of course I still want to be friends, I—I just don’t think we can. This is, uh, it’s difficult for me to say.” Patrick said, his pacing slowed to a halt. He faced Pete, tapping his foot anxiously against the floor.
Pete sighed heavily and stood up. He walked over to Patrick, leading him back to the couch so that way they could sit back down. He watched as Patrick curled in his legs so he was sitting criss-crossed. He gently squeezed Patrick’s knee, a soft smile accompanying it.
“‘Trick, c’mon, it’s me. You can tell me anything.” He tried not to let the sinking feeling in his stomach show through his words. He understood that Patrick thought they couldn’t be friends anymore, but first he wanted to know why.
“It’s, uh, it’s the little things. Like, when you, uh—I can’t say this. You’ll hate me, you’ll never want to see me ever again.” Patrick said, hanging his head limply. His ears were burning bright red. His heart was pounding, he felt sick to his stomach. For him this was now or never. He either kept speaking or swept it under the carpet and left it alone.
“‘Trick, please, we’ve been friends for fourteen years. I could never hate you.” Pete said, he gently nudged Patrick with his leg.
“W-what would you say if I told you that maybe our relationship as friends isn’t all that I want it to be?” Patrick confessed softly. He ran a hand through his hair, inhaling sharply.
“Is something wrong?” Pete asked. It wasn’t that he didn’t understand what Patrick wanted, but he knew there were a few things it could mean and he didn’t want to make assumptions.
“We’ve been friends for a while now, and I don’t want to ruin what we have.” Patrick told him, he took a deep breath before continuing. “I just think that maybe friends shouldn’t think of their friends the way I think of you.” He paused for a moment before going on, not giving Pete a moment to reply. “Like, how I love the way you’ll be all affectionate with me and not care who sees. Or, how I love that tapping thing you always do when you’re nervous. I—I just think that...hell, that maybe I’m in love with you.”
Pete remained quiet for a moment. The room fell silent, the only sounds breaking through was the sounds of their breathing.
When Pete looked up from his lap he locked eyes with Patrick. He took a moment to just look at him. He saw the way that Patrick was looking at him, his heart on his sleeve, and he took that moment to admire him for being brave enough to tell him this.
He carefully chose his words, making sure that he didn’t say the wrong thing and ruin it all.
“I agree with you. I don’t think that friends should think of friends that way either.” Pete confessed. He waited a moment and wished he hadn’t. He watched as the hope and color drained out of Patrick’s face. “But, then again maybe we aren’t just friends.” He smirked slightly, tilting his head to the side as he moved closer to Patrick.
“What? We aren’t?” Patrick asked, trying to contain his racing heart.
Pete remained silent. He stood up and held his hand out for Patrick, who accepted and joined Pete.
“I think...that maybe I’m in love with you, too.” Pete spoke softly. He reached his hand up to the side of Patrick’s face. He locked eyes with Patrick for a moment before darting his face in close, his lips meeting Patrick’s.
Patrick seized up for a moment, his hands jolting out at his sides unaware of where to go. Eventually, he relaxed into the kiss.
They stood there for a little bit, kissing each other languidly stopping only to take a few breaths. They shuffled back so that way Patrick’s back was against the wall.
Pete moved his mouth away from Patrick’s. He pressed soft kisses against Patrick’s jawline and down his neck. His hands rested on Patrick’s hips.
“Pete,” Patrick said breathlessly as Pete continued kissing his neck, leaving small marks.
Pete stopped moving his mouth and hovered over a spot on Patrick’s neck. His breath ghosting over his skin. He pulled his face away and smiled at Patrick.
“Do you want to take this somewhere more comfortable?” Pete suggested.
Patrick nodded and took Pete’s hand in his. He led him out of the living room and up the stairs to the bedroom.
“You sure this is okay?” Patrick asked. He knew that he was comfortable but he didn’t want Pete doing anything just because Patrick wanted it.
“Of course,” Pete replied, laying down on the bed.
Patrick remained hesitant but trusted Pete and joined him on the bed. He smiled softly and shuffled over to where Pete was. He gently pushed down Pete’s knees and moved him more toward the center of the bed. He swung one of legs over Pete’s body. He planted his knee at the space on the bed beside Pete’s hip. He place the other in between Pete’s legs.
He arched his body over Pete’s and lowered his head down. He pressed his lips to Pete’s, taking control of the kiss. He supported himself with his knees and with his hands he fumbled with the buttons on Pete’s shirt.
He removed his lips from Pete’s and began pressing soft kisses down Pete’s neck and chest. He ignored the pricks from the stubble on Pete’s jawline. He shifted his knee and felt it rub against Pete’s crotch and inner thighs.
“‘Trick,” Pete gasped softly, his voice breathless and airy.
A small smirk crept onto Patrick’s face when he saw the response he got from simply moving his knee. His mouth moved back down to Pete’s neck and he moved his knee at the same time.
Combining both of the actions elicited a small moan from Pete.
Patrick moved his mouth down Pete’s chest. He stopped at the top of Pete’s hips, kissing in the small curve of them both. He stopped when he felt Pete’s hand tug softly at the hem of his shirt. He remained hesitant. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do this, he wanted to do this very badly, it was just that he still wasn’t comfortable in his own skin. Still wasn’t comfortable to show off something so very few people had seen. He took a deep breath and then he smiled and raised both of his arms up, allowing Pete to pull his shirt up and over his head.
Pete ran his hands over Patrick’s chest, his fingers lightly skimming over his skin.
“God, ‘Trick, who let you be this beautiful?” Pete asked, his eyes skimming over the vast expanse of skin, his eyes lingering at Patrick’s crotch, eyes hungry and full of want.
Patrick nudged his hands away and did the same to Pete. His hands ghosting over his ribs and sides.
Pete squirmed and raised his hips up slightly off the bed, his chest reaching up to meet the hands of the man atop him.
Patrick’s hands strayed down towards Pete’s legs. With one of his hands he lightly skimmed his hand over Pete’s crotch.
“Trick, ‘Trick, please.” Pete called out quietly, his hips shifting upwards.
Patrick moved back for a moment when Pete asked him to. He watched as Pete took off his pants, tossing them to the side. Patrick’s pant joined Pete’s on the floor, leaving them in their underwear.
Patrick moved back over Pete, his fingers hooking under the waistband of his boxers. He gently pushed his hand under the boxer-briefs, rubbing small circles at the base of Pete’s hips. He removed his hand and brought his head down, his mouth hanging open. His breath warmed the thin layer of fabric covering the last few inches of skin Pete had covered.
Patrick pulled softly on the fabric, tugging it down to Pete’s ankles before he let Pete kick it off.
“Patrick…” Pete said softly, a smile creeping onto his face. “My boxers are caught on something,” he added, a light laugh following after.
Patrick chuckled and pulled the clothing from where is was caught and threw it to the floor.
“Better?” Patrick asked, the smile remaining on his face. He barely caught the small nod that Pete threw him as he carefully looked over Pete’s body. It was something he had only been graced with seeing once or twice, this time it was a whole different situation though.
Pete squirmed under Patrick’s stare. He wasn’t ashamed of his body, but watching someone you love look at you like that was a game changer for Pete. Sure, Pete had had sex before but, this wasn’t going to be just sex, this was intimacy in its finest form.
Patrick whispered soft words around the likes of “you’re beautiful” and “God, Pete”. His hands gripped softly at Pete’s hips as he pressed his lips on his thighs. He had to try to contain himself, he had to restrain himself from ripping off his own boxers and just getting into it right then and there. But, no, this was something he wanted to last, something he wanted to make...amazing.
Patrick looked up at Pete, caught him watching with wide, open eyes. His pupils were blown out, dilated, his mouth was hanging open, hot and heavy breaths coming out unevenly.
He moved his hands down to Pete’s dick, spreading the precome that leaked over the head, he lightly brought his fingers up and down, jerking him off. He abruptly stopped. He smiled and then moved his lips from Pete’s hips to his dick. He curled his lips around the head of Pete’s cock, moving his head back when Pete’s hips bucked forwards. Pete let out a small moan when Patrick moved his mouth down, rubbing his teeth softly against the undersides.
He sucked in his cheeks, moving his head back to lick a long strip down the sides of Pete’s shaft.
He paused for a moment, letting the tension in Pete build up before continuing. He hummed softly, slowly inching his mouth down Pete’s cock. He felt Pete’s hands work their way into his hair, tugging and pulling softly as Pete attempting to restrain himself. Occasionally, Pete would throw his hips up, unable to contain the need for the feeling of Patrick’s warm, hot mouth on the rest of his dick.
Patrick moved his hand down from where it had been placed on the bed down to his own crotch. He tucked his hand under the waistband of his boxers, moving his fingers along his own cock.
“P-Patrick, I’m close.” Pete warned. “‘Trick, I need you, please.” Pete begged, his words halted by harsh pants.
Patrick slowly pulled his mouth off of Pete, he removed his hand from his pants. He stood up, pulled off his boxers.
“There’s condoms and lube in the bottom drawer,” Pete told him, leaning up more.
Patrick returned to the bed once he had gotten everything necessary. He rolled the condom down his dick, and took the appropriate amount of lube onto his fingers, warming it up.
He moved back up to Pete, spreading his legs and leaning in close. He ran his finger over Pete’s hole, smiling when he hears the sounds that it brings. Pete arches his back when Patrick inserts on fingers, shifting it and moving it around. Pete’s pants turn to moans and he soft whispering of the words ‘fuck’ and ‘’Trick’ soon turn louder when Patrick inserts another fingers.
If Pete thought he was close when Patrick was blowing him, well, then he was hanging off of the edge now, trying so hard to hold it in, to ignore the feeling building up in his stomach, trying so hard to last.
Once Pete had been opened up enough so that way it wouldn’t hurt as much, Patrick applied lube to his own member, before lining it up with Pete’s hole.
Patrick looked up to Pete for approval. Pete replied with a swift nod.
Pete pulled his legs up, curling them around Patrick’s waist and then resting them on his thighs, allowing Patrick more access.
Patrick moved in slowly, sinking into the warmth of Pete.
Pete cried out softly, a loud moan accompanying it.
“Patrick, please, oh God, fuck me, please.” Pete begged, not wanting to settle for just having the tip of Patrick’s cock in him.
Patrick moved in more, rolling his hips and then pulling back out, repeating, each time moving more and more in until he had picked up a steady rhythm. He worked slowly, dragging out the time he had moved out until he had moved back in. He watched Pete squirmed under his grasp, pleading and begging for Patrick to move faster and harder, he of course obliged.
He rolled his hips and snapped back into Pete, the only sounds filling the room being the sounds of skin smacking against skin, of loud moans, and of names rolling off of either of their tongues, surrounded by swears and curses.
“‘T-Trick, I’m close, I’m so close,” Pete cried out, his eyes closed and hands fisting the bedsheets.
Patrick nodded and moved faster, he could feel the warmth pooling in his stomach. He moved harder and moved his hands up to Pete’s dick, rubbing and moving slowly his fingers up and down it.
Pete’s breathing grew faster, his chest rising up in down in rapid succession until he slowed down. His stomach sucked in, his back arched, and his nails dug into the bed as he rode out his orgasm.
“Patrick,” he said breathily, the name falling out of his mouth as he came was enough to bring Patrick to the edge. He slowed his movements down to basically a halt as he came.
Patrick slowly pulled out of Pete, rolling onto his back. He pulled off the condom, tied it, and then threw it away.
Pete turned to face Patrick as they lay together on the bed.
“I love you,” he said, moving his hand up to Patrick’s face.
“I love you, too,” Patrick replied, closing the distance between the two of them.