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It starts out small: pet names, soft touches and even softer words, blazing cheeks and averted gazes.
Patrick's got this way about him, right? Like, he could ramble on about the weather for thirty minutes and Jonny would hang onto his every word, completely content.
He gets called on it a handful of times; denies his way through comments about how he acts like they're attached at the hip, how he gravitates towards Pat anytime he walks in the room. And Jonny knows he does. He really, truly does. But, he still can't figure out how to stop himself from doing it.
Patrick laughs it off whenever it's brought up, gives Jonny a look he can't decipher. He knows Pat likes it, likes feeling wanted and needed and like he's the center of attention at all times. They fit well together, always have.
The thing is, Jonny really, absolutely, 100% does not know what the fuck it is they're doing. Patrick makes him want things. He's just got this way about him.
*
They're at one of Sharpy's parties, maybe a hundred or so people squeezed in and around the frat house, and Patrick's got a beer in one hand and the small of Jonny's back in the other, like Jonny needs to be gently guided through a house he's practically lived in for two years.
He still doesn't shrug Pat's hand off him, if anything he maybe presses into it a little more, flushes a darker shade of red when Patrick smirks in his direction.
"You good, babe?"
Jonny's throat clicks when he swallows, "Yeah, yeah I'm fine."
Patrick leers at him, gaze sliding up and down his body before he leans in even closer and says, "Let me get you another beer."
It's not even fucking sexy; he looks like a fucking creep, but Jonny still feels his body heat up.
When he nods Patrick reaches down and laces their fingers together, tugging him through the throngs of people like he's - like he's Patrick's girlfriend.
The thought of being Patrick's girlfriend hits him like a slap to the face, want so fierce in his gut he almost feels sick with it.
And that's how it starts.
*
Jonny flicks the bedside lamp off the second his back hits the bed. It doesn't make that much of a difference, really, the curtains in his room are thin and the sun hasn't completely set yet, but he'll notice the change when it does and that's what matters. Patrick doesn't even say anything like he usually does about wanting to see Jonny and needing, like, four fucking lights on at a time which is how Jonny knows this time is...different, for lack of a better term.
Pat takes his shirt off before climbing onto the bed, raising an eyebrow at Jonny as he reaches over to tug his off as well. He moves slowly, deliberately, like he already has a plan for how he wants this to go and it’s got Jonny practically vibrating with anticipation.
He leans in, hand on Jonny’s thigh, voice quiet as he says, “If you don’t like it, or it’s not what you wanted we can stop, okay?”
His eyes are serious when he pulls back, full of warmth and concern, and Jonny almost wants to flick the light back on. “Yeah, of course.”
Pat kisses him in complete contrast to the way he touches him: soft, slow, patient. Pat grips at his thighs and ass and hips just right, hands greedy and confident in the knowledge that no matter what he does Jonny will love it. And he does, god, he feels a little hazy with how much he loves just this little bit. Jonny arches into his touch, feeling loose and sure of himself. He knew Pat would make this good, would do this right.
Everything about Patrick is safe, from his big hands to his wide shoulders. He takes up space, makes Jonny feel like he's hidden from view when Pat's lying on top of him, pressing him down into the bed. The whole thing makes him brave, has him baring his throat for Pat's wandering mouth and spreading his legs for Pat's hands.
"That's good," Pat mumbles against his neck. "Open up for me."
Jonny exhales shakily, mouth falling open as Pat sucks a hickey onto his neck. It takes two tries for Jonny to get his voice to work and they haven’t even really done anything yet, “It’s too high; I won’t be able to hide it.”
“I know, baby.” He bites at Jonny’s shoulder. “I want people to see it and know that you’re mine, that I’m taking good care of my girl.”
Jonny lets out a thin whine, hips pushing up against Patrick, already worrying about coming too soon. Fuck, he’s so hard, he doesn’t even know when he got this hard.
As if he can read his mind, Patrick slides a hand between his thighs, tracing up over his underwear before rubbing small circles against the damp fabric where it's stretched tight over the head of Jonny's dick like he's rubbing Jonny's clit, all soft and sweet. Jonny lets out a desperate moan, body going lax under Patrick, his legs spreading even wider.
"Shh," Patrick's lips buzz against his cheek. "That's it. Let me take care of you, baby."
Jonny does. He lets his eyes drift shut, lets Patrick give them what they both want so badly. Patrick's hard against his hip, rubbing off against Jonny so gently he can barely feel it, like he doesn't want to scare Jonny off but can't help giving himself that little bit of friction.
It's slow and hot and better than Jonny thought it would be, and it almost takes too much time for them to end up where they are now: clothes off, slick with sweat, dicks so hard they hurt, and Jonny on top.
Patrick's looking up at him through heavy eyes, head tipped back against the headboard and chin tilted up. He's breathing slow and hard, controlled, like he does when he's finishing up on the bike at the gym or with the weights.
"Sweetheart," he rasps, fingers twitching in their grip on Jonny's hips. "You should fucking see yourself right now." Patrick pries a hand off Jonny and grabs his dick, pushing his dick against Jonny's and jerking himself off. "You're gonna feel so good inside, baby, all hot and wet for me."
Jonny's thighs are shaking even though he's resting most of his weight on Patrick and he feels like he can't keep his eyes open, they keep fluttering shut every time Patrick's fingers drift around to his ass. If Patrick keeps calling him those names he'll probably come untouched. He urges, hips shifting forward desperately, "C'mon, Pat, please."
Patrick's hand slows, the beaded bracelet he's had since middle school no longer jingling whenever he flicks his wrist, and his eyes drift from Jonny's lips to his chest before raising back up to his eyes. "Fuck," he groans. "You ready? You wet for me?"
Jonny feels himself flush bright red from his cheeks to his chest, but still can't hold back the moan that tears it's way out of his throat, his dick spitting up pre-come onto Pat's stomach. "Yes," he's clutching onto Pat's shoulder hard enough to hurt, but Patrick's not complaining. "Yeah, I'm - I'm ready."
"You think it'll fit?" And it's so stupid. Of course it'll fucking fit they've been fucking for months, now.
"Yes," It takes two tries to get his voice to work, his face all heated up, mouth gone dry. "Please, Pat."
Patrick nods, biting his lip, "Yeah, babe, lean forward a little more for me. Yeah, just like that."
Jonny can't take his eyes off Patrick's fat dick, can't stop his hips from hunching forward, his own dick aching. He just wants to get fucked now, wants to get pounded into the fucking mattress, wants Pat to use him like he doesn't care if Jonny gets off or not as long as he does.
Patrick's dick goes in easy like Jonny knew it would and it's like all of Jonny's strings have been cut as he relies on Pat and the headboard to keep him up.
"Yeah," Pat grunts, fingers digging into Jonny's ass as his hips fuck up against Jonny. "That's it. Feels better now, right?"
"Yes," Jonny whispers, because it does. His belly's all hot and the stretch hurts a little, but he's all full now. Patrick's taking care of him.
"I know, baby. You just needed your little cunt to be taken care of, it's okay."
"Shit," Jonny whines, eyes squeezed shut tight. "Oh, shit."
"Made for my fucking dick, baby. Made to get fucked." Patrick mumbles, sending a hot curl of shame through Jonny.
"Made for it," Jonny slurs.
Pat makes a raw little hurt sound and grips onto Jonny like he's afraid he might get up and walk out at any moment. Jonny's pretty sure if he even tried to stand up right now his legs would give out. He fucks him slow, thrusts all lazy and easy like they have all the time in the world, like Jonny doesn't need to get fucked so bad his teeth practically ache with it.
And he doesn't want to - but, he has to if Patrick won't. He rises up enough so that the head of Patrick's dick is the only thing inside him before dropping back down hard, making Patrick groan loud and sudden.
Jonny's gasping in a matter of seconds, caught between wanting to hide his face and wanting to look Pat in the eyes, see if he's feeling the same way Jonny is. It's just so good like this - fuck - it's never been like this before.
Patrick's eyebrows are scrunched up, pink lip caught between his teeth, looking like he's in pain as Jonny rides his dick as best as he knows how to.
Patrick's hands keep tightening on his hips, like it's so good it almost hurts, like he's about to ask Jonny to take a break or something. Patrick lets out a long breath, voice all ragged and shocked sounding, "God, sweetheart." He glances up at Jonny, his face fond and blissed out. "How're you so good at this, huh? Bet you - shit - bet you fucked any boy that looked at you in high school. Bet they talked about what a cockslut you are."
Jonny shakes his head weakly, even as the words make his dick leak, "I didn't-"
"Bet all they had to do was get their cocks out and you were ready to go, pussy aching for it."
Jonny throws his head back, closing his eyes as he bounces on Patrick's cock. He whimpers, "I just need it."
Patrick makes a soft, soothing noise, "I know, baby, I know you do. I wanna give it to you." God, he can't breathe, can't do anything but fuck, Patrick's words echoing in his head deliciously. "Gonna come in you," Pat grits out. "Leave your little pussy all messy."
"Oh," Jonny groans. "Shit. Oh, shit, do it. Please, I'm-"
"Fuck," Patrick spits. "C'mere." He wraps his arms around Jonny, tugging him down until his face is pressed into the pillow, and gets his feet on the bed, jackhammering up into him. Jonny's moaning so loudly he almost doesn't hear it when Pat says, "Beg me for it."
He doesn't even hesitate, "Please, Pat, please come in my pussy." Jonny comes the second the words leave his mouth, back arching as every muscle in his body locks up tight, groaning out a 'thank you'. He feels Patrick come a few moments after him, wishes he could see how it's going to look when it all drips out of him.
*
They don't talk about it, not really.
There are a few hushed conversations in bed, lots of "you sure that was okay"'s on Patrick's end and a lot of "yes, yes definitely"'s on Jonny's and that's it really.
He knows most people that do shit like this talk about it and then let it sit and then talk about it some more, but they aren't most people. He knows what he likes and what he doesn't like and Patrick's right there with him.
"If you don't," Jonny ties. "If you don't want to we don't - I don't need this or anything." Even though he's starting to think he does, even though the thought of cutting this shit out all together is the last thing he wants.
Patrick's fingers trail down his arm to wrap tightly around his wrist as he says, voice firm, "Hey, I want this. I want you."
Jonny curls tighter around Pat, pressing his face to Pat's neck and letting out a deep breath.
*
Jonny waits for Pat to sit on the couch with his water bottle, watches him turn on ESPN and sink back against the couch, thighs spreading.
They watch a replay of a basketball game that was on earlier, talking shit during the commercials, and Jonny doesn't realize he's been asked a question until Patrick's mouth curls up in a smile and he shoves at Jonny's thigh, "Anyone in there?"
Jonny bats at his hand weakly, “Shut up.”
Pat slings an arm around his shoulders, tugging him in until their thighs are pressed together. Jonny immediately starts thinking about going to his knees. He stays put, for now.
When the game comes back on Patrick turns his attention to it, but keeps his arm around Jonny's shoulders, fingers brushing against his pec. Jonny glances over at him, waits a few seconds for Pat to meet his eyes, and then huffs out a breath and before turning back to the TV when Pat purposely ignores him.
They keep watching the game and it's a whole lot of nothing, little touches here and there that almost make Jonny want to laugh until Patrick leans over and mumbles something about his "tits". Then it becomes a whole lot of something. Jonny's cheeks flame up instantly, thighs spreading as his throat clicks. When he glances down he notices Patrick's already chubbed up, doesn't know how it took him so long to notice, but now that he does he wants.
Patrick pinches his nipple once and Jonny feels his dick jump against his thigh, wants to take it out and pull on it more than anything. Patrick keeps his eyes on the TV, "You can always see your nipples through your shirts, you know. Everyone can."
"No, you can't." Jonny mumbles.
"Last week, when Ryan got fucked up on Alex's moonshine shit, he wouldn't shut up about you. At first, it was normal stuff like how nice you are and how you always help him with his French homework, but then he started talking about how your nipples are hard all the time because they're probably really sensitive. He thinks you're really easy for it, like, if he got you alone all he'd have to do is suck on your titties for a little while and you'd beg him to put his cock in your hole."
Jonny groans, head falling back as he frantically shoves at his shorts, pushing them down just far enough for his dick to pop out. He doesn't even get embarrassed about it, can't think about anything other than how fucking good his hand feels right now.
"See, all I have to do is talk about them and you get all worked up." Patrick sounds like a smug asshole and all it does is turn Jonny on even more. Patrick lets him tug on his cock for a few moments, still trying to pretend like he's not interested, but once Jonny lets out an embarrassing little whine his attention is promptly stolen.
"Take it out," he pants. "Please, I wanna suck it."
Patrick squirms around for a few seconds, pushing his shorts to his ankles before glancing over at Jonny, desperation written all over his face. Jonny moves before Patrick has time to ask for it.
He slides onto his knees in front of Pat and takes his dick in his mouth, back arched to pop his ass up as much as possible. He feels like a slut and finds himself wishing there was a mirror behind him so Pat could see his pussy while he sucks him off. Just the thought of it has him shaking, moaning around Pat's fat dick as the hands in his hair tighten their grip. He's sloppy with it, goes down until he's gagging and there are tears in his eyes and then goes down even further, swirls his tongue as best he can while Patrick shudders and grunts.
"Love your mouth," Patrick cries, hips jerking up causing Jonny to gag around him. "Yeah, shit, sweetheart. Gag on my dick just like that, so fucking nasty."
Jonny pulls off, breath coming fast as he wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, "I wanna get fucked." Patrick's eyes go wide and then he's up and moving, arranging Jonny just how he wants him. It's probably a record how fast Patrick gets him stretched and ready for his dick and before he knows it Jonny's gasping for air as Pat fills him up.
"You good, baby?" Patrick asks, not even bothering to slow down like he would if he was actually making sure Jonny was okay. Patrick's fingers press hard into his hips once before traveling down to press against his rim, feel where he's stretching Jonny open so fucking good.
Jonny can't even speak, can't do anything but whimper. "I'm not going too hard, right? I can slow down if you need me to." And Patrick is being a little rougher than usual, but Jonny's into it. He spreads his legs open a little more to brace himself better, his left hand coming up to grip onto the back of the couch.
Patrick drapes himself over Jonny's back, mouthing wetly at Jonny's neck, voice soft, "You need me to?"
Jonny shudders, head dropping low for a second before Patrick forces him up by wrapping gentle fingers around his throat. He kisses along Jonny's shoulder, messy and sweet, as he fucks Jonny hard enough to have him putting all his strength into staying in place, into staying where Patrick wants him. Patrick is going really rough, but Jonny likes it and he can take it he's not a - not really a - "No," Jonny whispers. "I can take it."
"I know you can," Patrick breathes. "Shit, look at you, you're so pretty, baby. You're such a good girl for me."
"Patrick," Jonny's nearly sobbing, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as he claws at the cushions, wondering if he really might blow his load over this shit. "Fuck, please-"
"You want me to tell you how good your cunt feels?"
"Fuck," he cries. "I can't - I can't."
Pat's silent for a minute, their breathing almost drowned out by the crude sound of Pat's hips against his ass, before he groans, "Just wanna fuck you all the time. Whenever my dick gets hard I just wanna bend you over and you'd love it, god, you'd beg for it. Every day you'd beg for me to fuck your needy pussy over and over again."
Jonny's coming the second the words leave Patrick's mouth, sobbing, "Please - fuck - please."
"Shit," Patrick chokes out, hips rabbiting forwards. "You're so - you're so sweet. Always so fucking sweet for me, baby. Fuck, I love you so fucking much."
Jonny's eyes snap open at that, sees the way Patrick's are squeezed shut. "I love you, too."
Patrick moans, this soft, broken sound that makes Jonny want to come again and spills inside him.
They don't move for a few minutes after that, hands stroking idly as they catch their breath and then Patrick speaks again, "You mean it?"
Jonny squeezes him, voice firm, "Of course."
Patrick huffs out a laugh, "Me too."