Work Header

in this bed next to you

Work Text:

Patrick decides for his birthday that he wants to do something easy and lowkey, so after an embarrassing loss to Carolina that Jonny would rather not comment on, they head out to a small bar near Jonny’s apartment, just the core plus Sharpy and Kirby and Adam too.

Patrick wanted a goal and a win for his birthday, but despite the loss, he’s happy as they settle down somewhere near the back, grinning easy as he sips his water. He doesn’t drink, not like he used to, but sometimes he steals sips of Jonny’s rum and coke and a little bit of Seabs’s old fashioned between glasses of water, and by the time Jonny buys the final round, he’s relaxed enough that when Jonny slips a hand on his hip, he leans all his weight back against him, grinning as he tips his head back so Jonny can drop a kiss on his forehead. “I wanna dance,” he says over the low thrum of the music, giving Jonny his best pout.

Jonny hates to dance, but he moves out of the way so Patrick can turn and grab him by the wrist, leading him to the dancefloor. Patrick has two left feet and can’t follow a beat to save his life, but he’s shameless as he wraps his arms around Jonny’s shoulders and pulls him closer, Jonny’s thigh slipping between his as he grips Patrick’s hips, swaying too slow to the too fast beat.

They probably look ridiculous—do look ridiculous if the look Kirby shoots them as he sandwiches himself between Seabs and Adam is anything to go by. Everyone is grinding to a rap song with a catchy hook, while he and Patrick sway back and forth like their at the middle school dance.

It would be embarrassing, but Patrick’s happiness is distracting. He grips Jonny’s face with too-warm hands, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He’s smiling: the private, little smile he reserves only for Jonny, his eyes bright and happy. He goes up on his tippy-toes, wet lips dragging across Jonny’s ear as they sway. “Jon.”

Jonny pulls him the little bit closer, only letting go to flip his hat backwards to make it easier to tilt his head down and kiss Patrick, long and slow and too sappy for a bar in the middle of Chicago, but Patrick doesn’t mind. He smiles against Jonny’s mouth, laughing even when some asshole bumps into them and causes their teeth to knock together.

“You should take me home,” Patrick suggests when they get bumped again, arms tight around Jonny’s shoulders. Even in the low light he manages to look seductive, biting on his lip as his eyes scan across Jonny’s face. He drags his thumb across Jonny’s mouth, his own lips parting open in a little sigh. “I want your dick in me,” he says, other hand sliding down between their bodies to cup Jonny through his jeans. Jonny grunts, sliding his fingers down Patrick’s back to cup his ass, trying to bring their hips closer. Patrick grins like the Cheshire cat, knowing that he’ll get what he wants. “Take me home and fuck me, Jonny.”

Jonny doesn’t have to be told twice. He takes Patrick by the wrist, pulling him not so gently through the crowd, only stopping momentarily to nod goodbye to Seabs, who’s too pre-occupied with making out with both Kirby and Adam to even really notice their departure.

Patrick is laughing loud and happy as they tumble out of the bar, clutching at the back of Jonny’s jacket. They make it a block down the road before Patrick tugs Jonny into an alley, pushing him up against the wall as he clutches at his jacket, pressing their mouths together into a hungry kiss. Jonny’s head slams uncomfortable against the brick wall, but he only grunts his complaint, licking into Patrick’s mouth as Patrick’s fingers work their way under his shirt, scratching at his chest with blunt nails.

“Thought you wanted my dick in you,” Jonny laughs, all breath when they pull apart to breathe.

“Wanna kiss you too,” Patrick shrugs, capturing Jonny’s mouth in another kiss to shut him up. Jonny lets him have his way, powerless to stop Patrick when he wants his way. Whipped is what Sharpy always says, accompanied by a sleazy whistle.

Patrick pulls away from him eventually, shivering in the cold, nose gone red. They’re both only dressed in shirts and light jackets, Jonny’s apartment only another block away. It’s November and cold and supposed to snow tomorrow night. Jonny’s not as cold, since he’s had the wall to lean back against and warm with his own body heat, and Patrick pushing up against him. He shrugs off his jacket despite the noise of protest Patrick makes, fitting it around his shoulders. “Come,” he says, taking Patrick’s hand and dragging him from the alley.

Patrick is on his best behavior for the short walk back to the apartment, holding Jonny’s hand obediently. He doesn’t even try to molest Jonny in the elevator ride up, only stands right next to him and rests his head on his shoulder as they make their way to the 20th floor.

When they’re finally inside of the apartment, Patrick shrugs out of both of their jackets, and then his shirt too before he toes out of his socks and shoes. He grins at Jonny as he steps backwards down the hall, smirking seductively as he sheds his clothes and Jonny follows.

Patrick is naked by the time they reach the bedroom, backing up until the back of his knees hit the bed. He manages to somehow gracefully crawl backwards, legs spread wide, giving just enough space for Jonny to crawl between them, capturing Patrick’s mouth in a dirty kiss before trailing his mouth wetly down Patrick’s chest.

Patrick moans, fingers digging loosely into Jonny’s hair, his moan turning into a whine when Jonny’s lips wrap around his cock. He bucks, fingers tightening as Jonny swallows him down, his noises only getting louder when Jonny pops his mouth off before tonguing at the head and trailing his tongue down and down until he can suck Patrick’s sac into his mouth. Patrick grunts, fingers clenching and unclenching against Jonny’s scalp.

Jonny flicks his tongue against Patrick’s sac before he trails his tongue back up, swirling it against the head. He uses both hands to keep Patrick’s thighs spread as he swallows him down again, bobbing his head until Patrick pulls him off, tugging him forward to share a kiss. “It’s my birthday.”

Jonny lifts his eyebrows. “Your birthday ended three hours ago.”

“It’s my birthday,” Patrick insists.

Jonny rolls his eyes, leaning forward to bite meanly at Patrick’s jaw. Patrick pulls his hair roughly in retaliation, smirking when Jonny grunts in pain.

“Little shit,” Jonny says, but it’s always overly fond, no matter if Patrick is pulling his hair meanly or not passing to him on the ice.

“You love me,” Patrick grins, letting go of Jonny’s hair to cup his jaw instead, blue eyes searching his face. He finds what he’s looking for, even though Jonny neither agrees nor denies, face relaxing back into happiness. Jonny’s always been bad with words when it comes to Patrick. He can rally a locker room, speak to thousands of their fans at the UC, and excite a bunch of third-graders into gardening, but he can never seem to put into words the way his heart seizes up and he can’t breathe when he thinks of Patrick, of how much he loves him, how much he would die for him. Patrick is his soul, and even saying those three simple words get caught in his throat.

But Patrick knows all of this. Knows that Jonny loves him, body, heart and soul. Knows that Jonny struggles to put his feelings into words but shows his love in the little things that he does: coffee every morning, notes left around the apartment, letting Patrick steal all the blankets at night, even when they’re camping during the off-season. Jonny doesn’t drop I love you the way that Patrick does, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t love him any less.

“I love you,” Patrick says, just because he can. “And it’s my birthday.”

“It’s your birthday,” Jonny agrees, kissing Patrick softly as he reaches under the pillows for the lube.

Jonny covers his fingers in lube, wiping the excess on Patrick’s thigh as he hikes it up, spreading him wide. Patrick bites his lip as Jonny circles his hole with his finger, hand loose on his hip.

“Hey,” he says as Jonny pushes two fingers in at once, knowing that Patrick can take it—likes the stretch to burn. He keens, pushing back against Jonny’s fingers as Jonny works them in and out. “For my next birthday—”

“Thought this one wasn’t over yet,” Jonny interrupts, withdrawing his fingers to cover his cock in lube, giving himself a few pumps before lining up. Patrick sets his leg over Jonny’s hip, the head of his cock dragging against his hole. He moans into Jonny’s mouth, wrapping his arms around his shoulders as Jonny pushes in.

“Jonny,” Patrick breathes against his mouth. “Jonny.”

“Yeah?” Jonny says, kissing Patrick long and hard as he pulls out and pushes back in. Patrick doesn’t say anything, just moans, legs wrapped around his waist, holding on tight as Jonny starts up a slow rhythm, fucking in until his hips are pressed up against Patrick’s ass, pulling out until only the head is in, concentrating more on kissing Patrick than fucking him.

Patrick digs his heels into Jonny’s back, cupping his face, not letting him break eye contact as they share the same breath. It’s sappy, and it’s gross, but Patrick looks content and happy, and he keeps smiling every time Jonny goes to kiss him, laughing breathlessly.

Jonny,” he tries again, holding his hip tight. “Jonny, I—”

“—love you, I know,” Jonny laughs, speeding up his thrusts. He rests his forehead against Patrick’s, closing his eyes and just living in the way Patrick feels around him, tight and wet and hot.

“No,” Patrick says. “I mean—yes. You’re the worst.” He tilts his head, biting Jonny’s cheek meanly, breathing hot against his skin. He moans against Jonny’s ear, nails dragging down his back. “I want—”

“Anything,” Jonny agrees, not even knowing what he’s agreeing to, but he’ll do anything that Patrick wants.

“Toews,” Patrick says. “I want—”

Patrick isn’t making any sense. Jonny sits up, grasping Patrick’s thighs and spreading him wide. He watches his cock disappear in and out of Patrick, fucking him faster, chasing the orgasm that’s slowly been building in his spine.

Patrick looks lovely, curls sticking to his forehead from sweat, cock red and leaking against his belly, bottom lip between his teeth. Jonny reaches between them, grasping Patrick’s cock, thumbing at the head with his calloused thumb.

Patrick bucks into his grip, grasping Jonny’s arm and digging his nails into his skin as he comes, hips thrusting into Jonny’s hand until he’s keen, trying to pull away.

Jonny laughs, dropping down onto his elbows to capture Patrick’s mouth in a kiss, fucking in long and hard as Patrick moans into his mouth, oversensitive, all hot, wet, tight heat. “Jonny,” he moans, bucking his hips, mouth wide open as he breathes. “Jonny, I want—”

“Tell me,” Jonny demands, holding Patrick tight as he slams into him, vision going a little dark at the edges, orgasm building up. “Tell me.”

“Just want to hear you say it,” Patrick says, eyes wide, teary.

Jonny’s orgasm hits him out of left field. He kisses Patrick hard, smashing their mouths together painfully, but Patrick just moans his discomfort, clinging to Jonny until Jonny sits up enough to pull out, dragging a wince out of him.

Jonny collapses next to Patrick, catching his breath until Patrick rolls over, elbows going right into his stomach and chest as he arranges himself, knee dangerously close to the family jewels. “Jonny,” he says, always-talking even in the post-orgasms afterglow. Jonny tries to distract him by squeezing his ass and slipping a finger between his cheeks, pushing his come back up into Patrick. Patrick groans, arching his back, his cock stirring against Jonny’s thigh. “Stop, you’re being annoying.”

Jonny pulls his finger out, wiping it against the sheets before wrapping his arms around Patrick.

Jonny,” Patrick insists. “You didn’t say it.”

“Maybe I don’t.”

Patrick shifts, knee really dangerously close to Jonny’s balls, his fingers digging harsh into his forearm. “Jonathan.”

“I love you,” Jonny blurts, wrapping his arms tight around Patrick, rolling them over until he can squish Patrick under him. “I love you,” he says again into Patrick’s hair, sighing as Patrick kisses his throat.

“I know,” Patrick sighs when Jonny rearranges them more comfortably, Patrick still protected and safe under him. He cups Jonny’s face, stroking his thumbs across the skin under his eyes. “Sometimes I just like to hear it.”

He kisses Jonny, slow and soft, all gross and loving, smiling his private, sweet smile that he only shows to Jonny.