Part 3/Epilogue: Of Starbucks and Superheroes (Bandom Big Bang)
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Practice the next day was the most uncomfortable that Patrick had ever been through. His concentration was wrecked by memories of the previous evening, as well as by anticipation for the evening to come, and fucking Pete kept giving him these knowing looks like he'd guessed exactly what had happened. Patrick wouldn't have been surprised if he had - not the exact details, maybe, but even though he knew it was impossible Patrick felt as though his lips were still swollen enough that he may as well be screaming "I sucked Jon Walker's cock last night".
Paranoia, Patrick reflected, was not a fun state of being.
When his voice wavered and cracked during "Saturday", he stepped away from the microphone and sighed. Joe played a discordant sound on his guitar and Andy hit his sticks off the toms so hard that they both cracked loudly. Pete came up behind him and rested his head on Patrick's shoulder, gripping Patrick's hip with his hand.
"You alright?" Pete murmured, concern underlying the playfulness of his tone.
Patrick nodded. "Sorry, man."
"So what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, seriously. Just got a lot on my mind. It just...it all seems to be happening at once, you know?"
"Pressure getting to you?" Pete squeezed his hip, and Patrick laughed, leaning back slightly into Pete's comforting presence.
"Maybe, dude. I just don't think I'm cut out to be a front man," Patrick sighed. It had been preying on his mind for some time, and he'd had trouble doing anything but sing when they were playing small venues. It was always Pete who bantered with the crowd, Pete who was the showman. "I mean, you're the front man of this band."
Pete waved a dismissive hand. "I'm the bass player, man."
"So what?" Patrick shrugged. "That doesn't preclude you from being the front man. I mean, officially, since you pretty much are anyway."
"Is that what you want?" Pete's eyes were searching, and Joe and Andy - who had walked up behind Pete as they talked - were watching him carefully.
"Yeah. If you don't mind?" Patrick asked nervously. "I mean, I know you're not that hot about the attention either, so I can do it if you'd rather not?"
Pete shook his head. "No way. You hate it, I know you do. I just...I can deal with the attention."
"You know people will fixate on you?" Andy's voice was quiet, but serious. "You know that you'll be the one they hate, or love, or bitch about in the gossip columns. Are you sure you can handle that?"
"Of course I can," Pete said sharply. Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again sharply. He knew that Pete was in denial about his problems--a tendency towards depression and low impulse control being a pretty big part of it--and Patrick worried about how he might react to the kind of attention they were facing if they were at all successful, but he knew better than to say anything. Instead, he just laid a hand on Pete's arm.
"If you're sure?"
Pete shrugged, looking Patrick straight in the eyes. "I'm sure." The look in his eyes pretty much implied that he would have replied the exact same way if Patrick had asked him if he was sure that he wanted to take a bullet for him, and Patrick was almost certain that was true. The knowledge made him almost uncomfortable, even though he knew that if he needed to, he'd return the favor. Not that Pete would ever let him. Patrick sighed, holding Pete's gaze for a few more moments, then nodded.
"So are we going to get back to practicing, now that's all sorted out?" Joe asked quietly, and Patrick shrugged.
"I don't know, you guys. It's pretty much feeling like an off-day for me." Pete nodded understandingly, and Andy sighed impatiently.
"Whatever. I think we should take a couple of days off; get our fuckin' heads on straight, y'know?" He started dismantling his drumkit, and Joe stalked off to his amp, pulling out the leads with more force than was necessary.
"Um, Joe?" Patrick said tentatively, walking up behind his friend. "You okay?"
Joe paused, but didn't turn around. "I just think we're wasting time," he said tightly. "I mean, what the fuck, man? I feel like we hardly ever finish a practice any more. There's always something else going on, or someone's head isn't in it. And we've got to keep practicing--am I the only one who hasn't forgotten we have a fuckin' tour coming up?"
"Hey, Joe, that's not fair," Pete said quietly, and Joe whirled around.
"It isn't? Pete...we can't just keep quitting practice because one of us has a new boyfriend and is adjusting."
Patrick felt himself pale. "So this is all my problem? Or is it just because I'm with a guy now?"
Joe's eyes widened in anger. "Oh, fuck you. Don't you dare call me homophobic. This has nothing to do with Jon being a guy...."
"Oh yeah? 'Cause it sure as hell sounds like it...."
"...this is to do with you apparently being unable to function like a normal human when you're in a relationship!"
"Okay, you guys," Andy said, stepping forward and holding up his hands. "I think we just need to fucking chill out and back off before one of us says something we're all gonna regret tomorrow."
Patrick stepped back, adrenalin coursing through him so fast he could feel himself shaking. "You're right. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Andy shook his head. "Not tomorrow." Joe opened his mouth, but Andy spoke before he had a chance to say anything. "No. Everyone needs time to cool off. We don't do this again until Monday."
"Monday?" Pete's eyes were wide, and Patrick could see the fear in them; fear that everything was going to fall apart before it had even started. "Are you sure that...."
"Yeah. Monday is long enough for us all to cool down, and then we can all come in to practice and not be at each other's throats, yeah?"
They all nodded, Joe still looking mutinous, and Patrick grabbed his coat and guitar and left, patting Andy on the shoulder on the way out. He put everything in the back of his mom's car and jumped in the driver's seat, then stopped, leaning his head against the steering wheel. He was suddenly scared; he and Joe had never fought like that before, and it felt wrong. It felt horrible, he felt horrible, and first thing on Monday he was going to have to apologize to....
"Patrick?" Patrick jumped in surprise, turning to see Pete at the window next to his head. Pete ran round the side of the car and hopped into the passenger seat, propping his bass on the floor in front of him with the neck between his legs.
"Um, what...?"
"You're driving me to mine. I'm gonna leave my car here and pick it up later."
"But...."
"No, Patrick. Just...drive, okay?" Patrick nodded tightly and started the car, heading towards Pete's, unable to shake the sinking feeling in his gut.
***
Patrick tugged his cap further over his eyes and sat on Pete's bed, watching Pete's feet as he paced around the room.
"Fuck, Patrick, what are we...what the hell happened today?" Patrick looked up into Pete's panicked face and sighed.
"I don't know. I guess we're all just tired, and stressed, and... Maybe a couple of days off is what we need."
"No, it was more than that. Joe was...why was he so...? Fuck." Pete looked so lost, and so young, that Patrick's heart went out to him. He stood and went over to his friend, slipping his arm around Pete's waist. Pete went stiff in his arms, before relaxing and sagging onto him, face falling onto Patrick's shoulder as he started to shake.
"Oh, hey, Pete. No, come on." Patrick led Pete over to the bed and lay down, curling up behind his friend. "It's gonna be fine, you'll see. Joe's just frustrated, but he'll be fine. We all will."
"Promise?" Pete asked, his voice as vulnerable as Patrick had ever heard it, and Patrick hugged him tighter.
"Promise."
***
Patrick couldn't shake the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, even as he pulled into Jon's driveway a full hour late; Patrick hadn't wanted to leave Pete when he was so clearly upset, and so had stayed with him for a few hours, until Pete had asked Patrick to drop him back at the practice space to collect his car. Patrick had asked Pete if he wanted him to stay, cancel on Jon, but Pete had told him not to be so stupid, and had even managed a grin--a real one, and Patrick could tell the difference by now--and a lewd comment.
He pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car, walking slowly up to Jon's door and knocking lightly. When there was no answer, Patrick felt his heart sink. Was Jon even still in? He knocked again, and heaved a sigh of relief when Jon opened the door.
"Hey," Jon said quietly, not meeting Patrick's eyes. "I wasn't sure if you were going to show up."
"God, Jon, I'm so sorry. I should have called, or texted, it's just." Patrick pursed his lips, tucking his hair behind his ear. "Can I come in?"
Jon nodded and moved aside to let Patrick in. He closed the door and turned towards the living room without a word, leaving Patrick to follow behind.
When they reached the living room, instead of sitting on the sofa as he usually did, Jon sat on one of the armchairs, tucking his bare feet underneath him. Patrick's steps faltered, but he sat on the sofa anyway, hands clasped.
"I, um. I'm so sorry, Jon."
"You said." Jon's voice wasn't exactly harsh, but it had no give in it, and Patrick blinked, hurt.
"It was. We were practicing and...there was a fight. Joe was..." Patrick's breath hitched and he paused for a second to try and get himself under control. "He was so angry, and I think Pete thought that he was about to quit. And the thing is, I'm not sure he's wrong." Patrick buried his face in his hands. "He said things that...we both did. And Andy managed to stop us before we said something we'd really regret, but he was still mad, and I don't even know if he's going to show up on Monday for practice. And then Pete looked like he was going to have some kind of nervous breakdown and I just couldn't leave him, because you don't know what he's like when he gets like that, or how much I worry about him, and..." He stopped, realizing he was close to being hysterical. After a few moments he got himself back under control, and continued, staring at his feet. "I know that all sounds like a really lame excuse for being an hour late and not calling, and maybe it is. So if you're gonna be mad at me--and I don't blame you; God knows I deserve it today--at least you know my reasons."
"Fuck, Patrick." The sofa beside him dipped and Patrick felt a hand rubbing his shoulder. When he looked up, Jon's eyes had softened. "Are you okay?"
"Me?"
"Um, yeah, you." Jon's hand moved to rub at the nape of his neck and he arched slightly into the touch. "You tell me Joe's mad at you and Andy's playing peacekeeper and Pete's freaking out, but are you okay?"
Patrick exhaled heavily. "I...I don't know." He looked up at Jon through his eyelashes, confused. "Aren't you mad at me?"
Jon shrugged, smiling slightly. "I was, but I think you've had a rough enough day without me being pissed at you as well. And I apparently can't stay mad at you, so." Leaning in, Jon pressed their foreheads together, and Patrick brought a hand up to cup Jon's cheek.
"You're kinda awesome, you know that?" he said softly, and Jon blushed.
"I'm nothing special," he muttered, and Patrick laughed.
"Yeah, you are."
***
"My mom is gonna come back, see these pizza boxes, and freak out about me not being able to take care of myself while she's away," Jon laughed, leaning back against Patrick's chest and nudging the box with his foot.
"Just...tell her you had lots of vegetables in the topping," Patrick said with a grin, before dropping a light kiss on the junction between Jon's neck and shoulder. "You've got most of the basic food groups there. She can't argue with that."
"Yeah, well, you haven't met my mother," Jon grumbled, then stilled. "But. Um. You could, if you wanted to? I mean. I don't know of I can tell her that we, y'know, or that I. Um, that you...."
"Hey, Jon, it's fine," Patrick said soothingly. "It's not like you've met my mom yet, and there's no rush. And I'm not gonna demand that you tell your parents about us. I mean. I haven't mentioned it to my parents yet, so it would be a little hypocritical of me, don't you think?"
"Really? You haven't told them you like guys?"
Patrick shrugged. "Never had the opportunity. I mean, my dad is...pretty much elsewhere most of the time, and my mom's really cool, but. I don't know. I haven't told Meaghan or Kevin yet either."
"I haven't told my brothers." Jon sighed, picking up Patrick's right hand and linking their fingers. "Why is it even a big deal? I mean, it shouldn't be, right? But it is. I just wish it wasn't."
"Me too. But, y'know, imperfect world and all that jazz. Guess we'll have to wait a while longer before people don't even care any more."
"Yeah. It sucks, doesn't it?"
Patrick squeezed his fingers. "Really does. Ugh, I'm stuffed. I don't think I'm gonna move from your sofa, like, ever. Just warning you now. I might have to become a permanent feature."
"I think I'd like that," Jon said quietly, turning his head to meet Patrick's gaze.
"You would?" Patrick smiled. "I think I would too."
"Good." Jon's mouth quirked, and he leaned forward to kiss Patrick gently. Patrick moved to deepen the kiss, but the angle was awkward, and Jon moved back, laughing. "Hang on," he said, shifting around until he was kneeling between Patrick's legs, and nuzzled Patrick's cheek. "Better?"
"Mmm, much," Patrick mumbled, wrapping his arms around Jon's waist and kissing him, before pulling back with a grin. "Although pizza breath is probably not the best thing to be sporting right now."
"I didn't notice. I guess 'cause I have pizza breath too."
"Well, we can just have pizza breath together." Patrick leaned back and picked the DVD handset off the floor. "Right now, though, I'm thinking we should watch the end of Dogma."
"We do seem to watch a lot of Alan Rickman movies," Jon said, raising an eyebrow as he settled on his side on Patrick's chest.
"Yeah, I'm starting to think that you might have a thing for him," Patrick teased.
"Um, no? Jackass." Jon whacked Patrick gently on the chest, and Patrick laughed, hitting the play button as they settled in together to watch the movie.
***
Patrick opened his eyes to the sight of the DVD menu playing on a loop on the TV. He stretched a little, and Jon made a small noise, burying his face in Patrick's chest. Patrick smiled gently, brushing Jon's hair off his cheek, feeling his heart expand a little in his chest when Jon moved into the touch.
"Hey," Patrick said softly, and Jon scrunched up his face, blinking sleepily up at Patrick.
"Mmm, hey." Jon rubbed his nose, then reached over and grabbed his soda. He leaned up and took a deep gulp, before lying back onto Patrick's chest. "Did I fall asleep?"
"Yeah, but I did too, so it's all good." Patrick reached out a hand and Jon handed him the soda can, taking it back when Patrick was done. "You wanna skip it to where we last saw?"
"Hmm, not really," Jon smirked, squirming slightly, and Patrick gasped at the friction. "I was thinking that maybe we could go to my room, unless you're too tired..." Jon glanced at him coyly, and Patrick grinned.
"That sounds like an awesome idea."
"It really does." Jon pushed a hand under Patrick's shirt, rubbing at his skin. "Except for how we're gonna have to get up, and I'm kinda not a fan of that idea."
"Hmm, but on the flipside, if we're in your bedroom, we can be naked."
Jon's eyes widened and he stood up so quickly that he swayed for a second, before reaching a hand down to pull Patrick to his feet. "Good point. Let's go." He turned towards the door and Patrick followed him up the stairs, laughing.
They burst into Jon's room, door swinging open so hard it bounced off the wall and closed behind Patrick with a thump. They both jumped, then grinned at each other.
"You're still not naked," Patrick said, a little breathlessly, pushing Jon backwards towards the bed and clutching at his shirt. Jon reached down, tugging his shirt up over his head, before smiling and pulling Patrick in for a kiss.
"Better?"
"Mmm, getting there," Patrick said against Jon's lips, pulling off his own shirt and wrapping his arms around Jon's waist. The feel of Jon's bare skin against his never stopped making Patrick want more--never stopped making him want to curl himself around Jon and never leave.
He popped the button on Jon's jeans and deepened the kiss, pushing his hands down the back of Jon's boxers. He squeezed Jon's ass gently, smiling when Jon moaned into his mouth. Squeezing a little harder, he ground against Jon's hip, unable to get enough of the feel of Jon hard against him, of the taste of Jon in his mouth.
Jon squirmed against him and Patrick's hands moved, his finger rubbing against Jon's asshole. Jon stilled, groaning, and the wave of need that swept through Patrick made him sway a little. Jon broke the kiss, looking at him questioningly. Patrick shook his head, not wanting to push, but Jon frowned.
"Hey, remember how we talked about this? What do you want, Patrick? Tell me what you want." Patrick shook his head again; he didn't want Jon to feel like this was something he had to do, but Jon was clearly not backing down. "Patrick, please. Tell me what you want."
"Jon, I don't..." Patrick paused to try and clear his mind. "I don't want you to think that you need to...I don't want to make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to."
Jon smiled gently. "I won't. Trust me, if there's something I don't want to do I won't do it."
Patrick nodded, biting gently at Jon's jaw. "I want." He took a deep breath. "Jon, I want to...."
"Patrick." Jon quieted him with a kiss. "Patrick, do you want to fuck me?" he whispered.
"Y-yes," Patrick said quietly, eyes focused on Jon's chest. "But we...I mean, I don’t. Jon...."
Jon shook his head. "What if I want to?" he asked, his eyes searching Patrick's. Patrick could see that he was nervous, though, and sighed.
"Jon, I just don't wanna move too fast. It's...it's kinda a big deal."
Jon rolled his eyes. "Patrick, I know that. I've had sex before...."
"With girls. But it's different when it's a guy. It's...more, somehow. And it hurts. No matter how careful the other person is, it's still gonna hurt a little bit. Or a lot."
"And I know you'll be careful," Jon said insistently, and Patrick frowned.
"No matter how careful I am, it'll still hurt a little. And since you haven't done anything like this before..." He stopped at the slightly shifty look on Jon's face. "What?"
"Um. I kinda maybe. In the shower, I maybe." Jon was flushing bright red, and Patrick's eyes widened.
"Jon?"
"I just. I've been trying, with my fingers." Jon's blush had spread half way down his chest, but Patrick barely noticed, too turned on by the mental image of Jon naked, wet, and fucking himself on his own fingers, god.
"How...how many?" Patrick stammered, fingers gently circling Jon's hole, imagining what it would like to be push inside, and needing to know how far Jon had gone.
Jon bit his lip, pushing slightly into Patrick's touch, and Patrick fought the urge to just press. "I, um, th-three? I took a really long shower, and worked my way up to it."
Patrick closed his eyes and gasped as pictures of Jon wet, naked and fingering himself danced behind his eyelids. "And?" Patrick thrust against Jon's thigh, grunting softly at the friction.
“And…aaaah…and I, I guess I kinda liked it, but-” Jon looked up at Patrick through heavy lidded eyes “-I think I’d like it better if you were doing it.”
“Ohfuck,” Patrick groaned, moving his hips backwards away from Jon and taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to stop himself from coming before they'd even really started. He leaned up to kiss Jon--just a brief press of lips--before pulling his hands out of the Jon's boxers and stepping back. Jon gave him a confused look, which turned smoldering when Patrick's hands went to his own jeans and began to strip them off along with his underwear. He kicked them off, then sat on the bed to remove his socks, reaching out a hand to Jon as soon as he'd thrown them over to the door. Pulling Jon in, he laid his forehead on Jon's stomach and mouthed around the top of his boxers, dragging the waistband down slightly and biting gently at the newly-bared skin.
"Fuck, Patrick, please," Jon gasped, threading his fingers through Patrick's hair and tugging gently. Patrick ignored Jon's obvious attempt to get Patrick's mouth where he wanted it, instead placing open mouthed kisses along the jut of Jon's hipbone. He pulled Jon's boxers down to his feet, waiting as Jon stepped out of them before running his hands up the back of Jon's thighs and sucking the head of Jon's cock into his mouth.
Jon's hips bucked forward slightly, and Patrick pulled back and stood up, kissing away Jon's incoherent "sorry, sorry" before guiding him backwards onto the bed. They broke the kiss for long enough to arrange themselves: Jon lying on the bed, pillows under his head and hips, knees bent and slightly parted; Patrick kneeling between Jon's feet, hands gripping his calves. Patrick took a moment to stare at the sight in front of him; Jon's skin was flushed a rosy pink, his cock hard and lying on his stomach, eyes wide and dark, lower lip caught between his teeth as his hands gripped at the sheets. Patrick couldn't have resisted touching Jon even if he'd wanted to, and he ran his hands feverishly up the inside of Jon's thighs, cock twitching as Jon's legs fell open making him look even more wanton and wanting.
Reaching forward, Patrick began to stroke gently over Jon’s hole with his finger, biting his lip as Jon twitched, mouth falling open. “Lube?” Patrick managed hoarsely, and Jon gestured wildly towards his bedside table. Patrick found the lube, along with a box of condoms, in the drawer, and set them on the bed beside him. He squirted some lube onto his hand, warming it for a moment before spreading it over the fingers of his right hand, and tapping on Jon’s legs to make him stretch them out flat. Patrick moved so that he was lying beside Jon, head on his chest, and scraped his teeth gently along Jon’s skin as he slowly pushed his finger in.
Jon hissed as Patrick began to move his finger, and he looked up in concern. “You alright?” he asked hoarsely, and Jon nodded.
“Yeah, ‘s just…just weird.”
Patrick smiled gently--he remembered how odd it was to have someone else’s fingers pressing inside--and carried on, paying attention to every single movement, every single noise, that Jon made. When he thought Jon could handle it, he added a second finger. Jon’s eyes widened, and Patrick kissed him. “It’ll be easier if you bear down on my fingers,” he murmured, and Jon immediately did so. Seeing that Jon was still in a little discomfort, and knowing that he would be even more so when he added a third finger, Patrick figured that it would probably be best to distract him. Grinning up at Jon’s flushed face, Patrick leaned down and placed sucking kisses up Jon’s shaft. Jon’s hips bucked and he moaned, the sound making Patrick’s cock harden even further. Resisting the urge to hump the mattress, Patrick sucked the head into his mouth as he pushed a third finger in, stretching Jon open.
He continued for as long as he could bear it, until Jon pulled at his hair, gasping, “God, please, now, Patrick.” Patrick sat up and gently pulled his fingers out, mesmerized for a moment by Jon’s shiny, pink hole, and reached for a condom. He rolled it down his cock and poured some more lube onto his hand, before tossing the bottle over to one side and slicking himself up. Gritting his teeth, he only just managed not to come at the touch on his already sensitive cock.
“It’ll be easier if you’re on your hands and knees,” he panted, but Jon shook his head.
“Can’t we do it like this?”
Patrick nodded. “Um, yeah, if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” Jon said, smiling. His face was flushed and his hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat; Patrick didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone look so gorgeous.
“Alright. You should put a pillow under your hips, then.’”
Jon did so, moving so that his feet were in the air either side of Patrick’s body. Patrick took a deep breath and lined himself up, looking up at Jon with wide eyes.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Patrick whispered, before starting to push in, a little at a time. Jon was breathing heavily, his pupils wide, and Patrick stopped when he saw Jon wince. “Are you okay?” he asked, arms shaking with the effort of staying still.
“No, no, don’t stop, just. Wow.”
“Okay.” Patrick kept going until he was totally inside, and stopped, letting Jon adjust. He waited until Jon relaxed a little, nodding at him, and he started to move, leaning in to kiss Jon as he did so. He knew he wasn’t going to last--for all that he wished he could, he was too worked up--and he reached between them and grasped Jon’s cock, stroking it fast and hard, the way he knew Jon liked it.
Jon groaned low in his throat, gasping, and came all over Patrick’s hand and his own stomach. Patrick dropped his head onto Jon’s shoulder and thrust one last time before coming with a moan. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath while Jon’s hands stroked up and down his back, before pulling out as gently as he could. He tied off the condom and wrapped it in a tissue, threw it in the bin, and fell back onto the bed beside Jon.
“Was that…was that okay?” he asked after a moment.
Jon rolled over so that he was half sprawled over Patrick, head on Patrick’s chest. “That was definitely okay,” he said, smiling, and Patrick grinned delightedly before pulling Jon up for another kiss. They fell asleep that way, Jon’s head pillowed on Patrick’s chest, Patrick’s arms looped around Jon’s waist.
***
Patrick woke the next morning with his nose buried in someone else’s hair, and blinked sleepily at the morning light which fell across his face. His left arm, buried under Jon’s sleeping frame, was almost totally numb, but he couldn’t bring himself to move it. Or, well, he actually physically couldn’t move it, but Patrick really couldn’t make himself care.
He kissed the top of Jon’s head gently, and Jon made a small noise, shifting so that he was leaning fully on Patrick’s torso rather than his arm. Patrick winced as the blood rushed back into his fingers, and Jon frowned.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice sleep-husky.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Patrick asked, only half teasing.
Jon grinned. “I am absolutely great, thanks for asking.”
“Not sore?”
“Eh,” Jon shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it’s just a good excuse.”
“Excuse?”
“Yeah.” Jon’s expression turned half wanton, half shy. “It just means that next time I get to fuck you.”
Patrick blinked, blood rushing to his cock at the thought of Jon fucking him. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a suppressed whimper.
“Is that…okay?” Jon asked, biting his lip, and Patrick nodded.
“Oh, fuck yes.” He pulled Jon into a kiss. “But later, okay? For now, we need to sleep some more.” He turned onto his side, facing away from Jon and snuggling back into him as he spooned behind Patrick.
They lay in silence for a few moments, before Patrick felt Jon sigh against the back of his neck. “You know my parents are back tomorrow afternoon.”
“I thought they weren’t back until Monday?”
“No, Sunday. Just a full week.” Jon’s arm tightened around his waist. “I’m going to call in sick for work today; tell them I’ve got ‘flu or something. I can’t believe this is the last time we can do this for god knows how long.”
Patrick reached down and laced his fingers with Jon’s. “Well, we’ll just have to make today count, won’t we?” he asked, and felt Jon’s smile against his skin.
Epilogue
September 2003
“You promise you’ll call whenever you get a chance?”
Patrick leaned back against the van behind him, grinning up at Jon’s worried face. “I promise. Again. It’s only for a few months; you’ll barely even know I’m gone.”
Jon pouted. “It’s three months, and it’ll feel like forever, you know it will.”
“Yeah,” Patrick sighed, stroking a hand down Jon’s cheek and kissing him.
“Oh my god, you two are so disgustingly sweet you’re giving me toothache.” Patrick turned to Pete and glared, only half joking.
“Shut up, dude.”
“Make me, bitch,” Pete laughed, and Joe stuck his head out of the van.
“Yeah, and if you feel like helping pack the last of our stuff that’d be awesome.”
“Fine,” Patrick huffed, going over to the pile of equipment and picking up the last amp. “I just can’t believe we’re going on tour!”
“It’s gonna be amazing,” Andy grinned, slamming the back doors shut and climbing into the front passenger seat.
“I’m gonna miss you,” Jon whispered, and Patrick kissed him again.
“Me too.”
“But hey, you’d better go or you’re going to be late.”
Patrick pretended he didn’t hear the hitch in Jon’s voice, hoping for the same from Jon when his voice caught on his goodbye as he climbed into the back seat of the van they’d pretty much be living in for the next few months. He waved out the window at Jon until he was out of sight, and had no longer turned back around in his seat than his phone buzzed. He took it out and checked the new message, smiling as he saw it.
I love u. Cu in a few mnths. Jon xo
Three months of being on the road with one of his favorite bands, and then it would be back to Chicago, and his Jon Walker. Patrick couldn’t wait.
fin
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Practice the next day was the most uncomfortable that Patrick had ever been through. His concentration was wrecked by memories of the previous evening, as well as by anticipation for the evening to come, and fucking Pete kept giving him these knowing looks like he'd guessed exactly what had happened. Patrick wouldn't have been surprised if he had - not the exact details, maybe, but even though he knew it was impossible Patrick felt as though his lips were still swollen enough that he may as well be screaming "I sucked Jon Walker's cock last night".
Paranoia, Patrick reflected, was not a fun state of being.
When his voice wavered and cracked during "Saturday", he stepped away from the microphone and sighed. Joe played a discordant sound on his guitar and Andy hit his sticks off the toms so hard that they both cracked loudly. Pete came up behind him and rested his head on Patrick's shoulder, gripping Patrick's hip with his hand.
"You alright?" Pete murmured, concern underlying the playfulness of his tone.
Patrick nodded. "Sorry, man."
"So what's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong, seriously. Just got a lot on my mind. It just...it all seems to be happening at once, you know?"
"Pressure getting to you?" Pete squeezed his hip, and Patrick laughed, leaning back slightly into Pete's comforting presence.
"Maybe, dude. I just don't think I'm cut out to be a front man," Patrick sighed. It had been preying on his mind for some time, and he'd had trouble doing anything but sing when they were playing small venues. It was always Pete who bantered with the crowd, Pete who was the showman. "I mean, you're the front man of this band."
Pete waved a dismissive hand. "I'm the bass player, man."
"So what?" Patrick shrugged. "That doesn't preclude you from being the front man. I mean, officially, since you pretty much are anyway."
"Is that what you want?" Pete's eyes were searching, and Joe and Andy - who had walked up behind Pete as they talked - were watching him carefully.
"Yeah. If you don't mind?" Patrick asked nervously. "I mean, I know you're not that hot about the attention either, so I can do it if you'd rather not?"
Pete shook his head. "No way. You hate it, I know you do. I just...I can deal with the attention."
"You know people will fixate on you?" Andy's voice was quiet, but serious. "You know that you'll be the one they hate, or love, or bitch about in the gossip columns. Are you sure you can handle that?"
"Of course I can," Pete said sharply. Patrick opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again sharply. He knew that Pete was in denial about his problems--a tendency towards depression and low impulse control being a pretty big part of it--and Patrick worried about how he might react to the kind of attention they were facing if they were at all successful, but he knew better than to say anything. Instead, he just laid a hand on Pete's arm.
"If you're sure?"
Pete shrugged, looking Patrick straight in the eyes. "I'm sure." The look in his eyes pretty much implied that he would have replied the exact same way if Patrick had asked him if he was sure that he wanted to take a bullet for him, and Patrick was almost certain that was true. The knowledge made him almost uncomfortable, even though he knew that if he needed to, he'd return the favor. Not that Pete would ever let him. Patrick sighed, holding Pete's gaze for a few more moments, then nodded.
"So are we going to get back to practicing, now that's all sorted out?" Joe asked quietly, and Patrick shrugged.
"I don't know, you guys. It's pretty much feeling like an off-day for me." Pete nodded understandingly, and Andy sighed impatiently.
"Whatever. I think we should take a couple of days off; get our fuckin' heads on straight, y'know?" He started dismantling his drumkit, and Joe stalked off to his amp, pulling out the leads with more force than was necessary.
"Um, Joe?" Patrick said tentatively, walking up behind his friend. "You okay?"
Joe paused, but didn't turn around. "I just think we're wasting time," he said tightly. "I mean, what the fuck, man? I feel like we hardly ever finish a practice any more. There's always something else going on, or someone's head isn't in it. And we've got to keep practicing--am I the only one who hasn't forgotten we have a fuckin' tour coming up?"
"Hey, Joe, that's not fair," Pete said quietly, and Joe whirled around.
"It isn't? Pete...we can't just keep quitting practice because one of us has a new boyfriend and is adjusting."
Patrick felt himself pale. "So this is all my problem? Or is it just because I'm with a guy now?"
Joe's eyes widened in anger. "Oh, fuck you. Don't you dare call me homophobic. This has nothing to do with Jon being a guy...."
"Oh yeah? 'Cause it sure as hell sounds like it...."
"...this is to do with you apparently being unable to function like a normal human when you're in a relationship!"
"Okay, you guys," Andy said, stepping forward and holding up his hands. "I think we just need to fucking chill out and back off before one of us says something we're all gonna regret tomorrow."
Patrick stepped back, adrenalin coursing through him so fast he could feel himself shaking. "You're right. I'll see you guys tomorrow."
Andy shook his head. "Not tomorrow." Joe opened his mouth, but Andy spoke before he had a chance to say anything. "No. Everyone needs time to cool off. We don't do this again until Monday."
"Monday?" Pete's eyes were wide, and Patrick could see the fear in them; fear that everything was going to fall apart before it had even started. "Are you sure that...."
"Yeah. Monday is long enough for us all to cool down, and then we can all come in to practice and not be at each other's throats, yeah?"
They all nodded, Joe still looking mutinous, and Patrick grabbed his coat and guitar and left, patting Andy on the shoulder on the way out. He put everything in the back of his mom's car and jumped in the driver's seat, then stopped, leaning his head against the steering wheel. He was suddenly scared; he and Joe had never fought like that before, and it felt wrong. It felt horrible, he felt horrible, and first thing on Monday he was going to have to apologize to....
"Patrick?" Patrick jumped in surprise, turning to see Pete at the window next to his head. Pete ran round the side of the car and hopped into the passenger seat, propping his bass on the floor in front of him with the neck between his legs.
"Um, what...?"
"You're driving me to mine. I'm gonna leave my car here and pick it up later."
"But...."
"No, Patrick. Just...drive, okay?" Patrick nodded tightly and started the car, heading towards Pete's, unable to shake the sinking feeling in his gut.
***
Patrick tugged his cap further over his eyes and sat on Pete's bed, watching Pete's feet as he paced around the room.
"Fuck, Patrick, what are we...what the hell happened today?" Patrick looked up into Pete's panicked face and sighed.
"I don't know. I guess we're all just tired, and stressed, and... Maybe a couple of days off is what we need."
"No, it was more than that. Joe was...why was he so...? Fuck." Pete looked so lost, and so young, that Patrick's heart went out to him. He stood and went over to his friend, slipping his arm around Pete's waist. Pete went stiff in his arms, before relaxing and sagging onto him, face falling onto Patrick's shoulder as he started to shake.
"Oh, hey, Pete. No, come on." Patrick led Pete over to the bed and lay down, curling up behind his friend. "It's gonna be fine, you'll see. Joe's just frustrated, but he'll be fine. We all will."
"Promise?" Pete asked, his voice as vulnerable as Patrick had ever heard it, and Patrick hugged him tighter.
"Promise."
***
Patrick couldn't shake the horrible feeling in the pit of his stomach, even as he pulled into Jon's driveway a full hour late; Patrick hadn't wanted to leave Pete when he was so clearly upset, and so had stayed with him for a few hours, until Pete had asked Patrick to drop him back at the practice space to collect his car. Patrick had asked Pete if he wanted him to stay, cancel on Jon, but Pete had told him not to be so stupid, and had even managed a grin--a real one, and Patrick could tell the difference by now--and a lewd comment.
He pulled the keys out of the ignition and got out of the car, walking slowly up to Jon's door and knocking lightly. When there was no answer, Patrick felt his heart sink. Was Jon even still in? He knocked again, and heaved a sigh of relief when Jon opened the door.
"Hey," Jon said quietly, not meeting Patrick's eyes. "I wasn't sure if you were going to show up."
"God, Jon, I'm so sorry. I should have called, or texted, it's just." Patrick pursed his lips, tucking his hair behind his ear. "Can I come in?"
Jon nodded and moved aside to let Patrick in. He closed the door and turned towards the living room without a word, leaving Patrick to follow behind.
When they reached the living room, instead of sitting on the sofa as he usually did, Jon sat on one of the armchairs, tucking his bare feet underneath him. Patrick's steps faltered, but he sat on the sofa anyway, hands clasped.
"I, um. I'm so sorry, Jon."
"You said." Jon's voice wasn't exactly harsh, but it had no give in it, and Patrick blinked, hurt.
"It was. We were practicing and...there was a fight. Joe was..." Patrick's breath hitched and he paused for a second to try and get himself under control. "He was so angry, and I think Pete thought that he was about to quit. And the thing is, I'm not sure he's wrong." Patrick buried his face in his hands. "He said things that...we both did. And Andy managed to stop us before we said something we'd really regret, but he was still mad, and I don't even know if he's going to show up on Monday for practice. And then Pete looked like he was going to have some kind of nervous breakdown and I just couldn't leave him, because you don't know what he's like when he gets like that, or how much I worry about him, and..." He stopped, realizing he was close to being hysterical. After a few moments he got himself back under control, and continued, staring at his feet. "I know that all sounds like a really lame excuse for being an hour late and not calling, and maybe it is. So if you're gonna be mad at me--and I don't blame you; God knows I deserve it today--at least you know my reasons."
"Fuck, Patrick." The sofa beside him dipped and Patrick felt a hand rubbing his shoulder. When he looked up, Jon's eyes had softened. "Are you okay?"
"Me?"
"Um, yeah, you." Jon's hand moved to rub at the nape of his neck and he arched slightly into the touch. "You tell me Joe's mad at you and Andy's playing peacekeeper and Pete's freaking out, but are you okay?"
Patrick exhaled heavily. "I...I don't know." He looked up at Jon through his eyelashes, confused. "Aren't you mad at me?"
Jon shrugged, smiling slightly. "I was, but I think you've had a rough enough day without me being pissed at you as well. And I apparently can't stay mad at you, so." Leaning in, Jon pressed their foreheads together, and Patrick brought a hand up to cup Jon's cheek.
"You're kinda awesome, you know that?" he said softly, and Jon blushed.
"I'm nothing special," he muttered, and Patrick laughed.
"Yeah, you are."
***
"My mom is gonna come back, see these pizza boxes, and freak out about me not being able to take care of myself while she's away," Jon laughed, leaning back against Patrick's chest and nudging the box with his foot.
"Just...tell her you had lots of vegetables in the topping," Patrick said with a grin, before dropping a light kiss on the junction between Jon's neck and shoulder. "You've got most of the basic food groups there. She can't argue with that."
"Yeah, well, you haven't met my mother," Jon grumbled, then stilled. "But. Um. You could, if you wanted to? I mean. I don't know of I can tell her that we, y'know, or that I. Um, that you...."
"Hey, Jon, it's fine," Patrick said soothingly. "It's not like you've met my mom yet, and there's no rush. And I'm not gonna demand that you tell your parents about us. I mean. I haven't mentioned it to my parents yet, so it would be a little hypocritical of me, don't you think?"
"Really? You haven't told them you like guys?"
Patrick shrugged. "Never had the opportunity. I mean, my dad is...pretty much elsewhere most of the time, and my mom's really cool, but. I don't know. I haven't told Meaghan or Kevin yet either."
"I haven't told my brothers." Jon sighed, picking up Patrick's right hand and linking their fingers. "Why is it even a big deal? I mean, it shouldn't be, right? But it is. I just wish it wasn't."
"Me too. But, y'know, imperfect world and all that jazz. Guess we'll have to wait a while longer before people don't even care any more."
"Yeah. It sucks, doesn't it?"
Patrick squeezed his fingers. "Really does. Ugh, I'm stuffed. I don't think I'm gonna move from your sofa, like, ever. Just warning you now. I might have to become a permanent feature."
"I think I'd like that," Jon said quietly, turning his head to meet Patrick's gaze.
"You would?" Patrick smiled. "I think I would too."
"Good." Jon's mouth quirked, and he leaned forward to kiss Patrick gently. Patrick moved to deepen the kiss, but the angle was awkward, and Jon moved back, laughing. "Hang on," he said, shifting around until he was kneeling between Patrick's legs, and nuzzled Patrick's cheek. "Better?"
"Mmm, much," Patrick mumbled, wrapping his arms around Jon's waist and kissing him, before pulling back with a grin. "Although pizza breath is probably not the best thing to be sporting right now."
"I didn't notice. I guess 'cause I have pizza breath too."
"Well, we can just have pizza breath together." Patrick leaned back and picked the DVD handset off the floor. "Right now, though, I'm thinking we should watch the end of Dogma."
"We do seem to watch a lot of Alan Rickman movies," Jon said, raising an eyebrow as he settled on his side on Patrick's chest.
"Yeah, I'm starting to think that you might have a thing for him," Patrick teased.
"Um, no? Jackass." Jon whacked Patrick gently on the chest, and Patrick laughed, hitting the play button as they settled in together to watch the movie.
***
Patrick opened his eyes to the sight of the DVD menu playing on a loop on the TV. He stretched a little, and Jon made a small noise, burying his face in Patrick's chest. Patrick smiled gently, brushing Jon's hair off his cheek, feeling his heart expand a little in his chest when Jon moved into the touch.
"Hey," Patrick said softly, and Jon scrunched up his face, blinking sleepily up at Patrick.
"Mmm, hey." Jon rubbed his nose, then reached over and grabbed his soda. He leaned up and took a deep gulp, before lying back onto Patrick's chest. "Did I fall asleep?"
"Yeah, but I did too, so it's all good." Patrick reached out a hand and Jon handed him the soda can, taking it back when Patrick was done. "You wanna skip it to where we last saw?"
"Hmm, not really," Jon smirked, squirming slightly, and Patrick gasped at the friction. "I was thinking that maybe we could go to my room, unless you're too tired..." Jon glanced at him coyly, and Patrick grinned.
"That sounds like an awesome idea."
"It really does." Jon pushed a hand under Patrick's shirt, rubbing at his skin. "Except for how we're gonna have to get up, and I'm kinda not a fan of that idea."
"Hmm, but on the flipside, if we're in your bedroom, we can be naked."
Jon's eyes widened and he stood up so quickly that he swayed for a second, before reaching a hand down to pull Patrick to his feet. "Good point. Let's go." He turned towards the door and Patrick followed him up the stairs, laughing.
They burst into Jon's room, door swinging open so hard it bounced off the wall and closed behind Patrick with a thump. They both jumped, then grinned at each other.
"You're still not naked," Patrick said, a little breathlessly, pushing Jon backwards towards the bed and clutching at his shirt. Jon reached down, tugging his shirt up over his head, before smiling and pulling Patrick in for a kiss.
"Better?"
"Mmm, getting there," Patrick said against Jon's lips, pulling off his own shirt and wrapping his arms around Jon's waist. The feel of Jon's bare skin against his never stopped making Patrick want more--never stopped making him want to curl himself around Jon and never leave.
He popped the button on Jon's jeans and deepened the kiss, pushing his hands down the back of Jon's boxers. He squeezed Jon's ass gently, smiling when Jon moaned into his mouth. Squeezing a little harder, he ground against Jon's hip, unable to get enough of the feel of Jon hard against him, of the taste of Jon in his mouth.
Jon squirmed against him and Patrick's hands moved, his finger rubbing against Jon's asshole. Jon stilled, groaning, and the wave of need that swept through Patrick made him sway a little. Jon broke the kiss, looking at him questioningly. Patrick shook his head, not wanting to push, but Jon frowned.
"Hey, remember how we talked about this? What do you want, Patrick? Tell me what you want." Patrick shook his head again; he didn't want Jon to feel like this was something he had to do, but Jon was clearly not backing down. "Patrick, please. Tell me what you want."
"Jon, I don't..." Patrick paused to try and clear his mind. "I don't want you to think that you need to...I don't want to make you feel like you have to do something you don't want to."
Jon smiled gently. "I won't. Trust me, if there's something I don't want to do I won't do it."
Patrick nodded, biting gently at Jon's jaw. "I want." He took a deep breath. "Jon, I want to...."
"Patrick." Jon quieted him with a kiss. "Patrick, do you want to fuck me?" he whispered.
"Y-yes," Patrick said quietly, eyes focused on Jon's chest. "But we...I mean, I don’t. Jon...."
Jon shook his head. "What if I want to?" he asked, his eyes searching Patrick's. Patrick could see that he was nervous, though, and sighed.
"Jon, I just don't wanna move too fast. It's...it's kinda a big deal."
Jon rolled his eyes. "Patrick, I know that. I've had sex before...."
"With girls. But it's different when it's a guy. It's...more, somehow. And it hurts. No matter how careful the other person is, it's still gonna hurt a little bit. Or a lot."
"And I know you'll be careful," Jon said insistently, and Patrick frowned.
"No matter how careful I am, it'll still hurt a little. And since you haven't done anything like this before..." He stopped at the slightly shifty look on Jon's face. "What?"
"Um. I kinda maybe. In the shower, I maybe." Jon was flushing bright red, and Patrick's eyes widened.
"Jon?"
"I just. I've been trying, with my fingers." Jon's blush had spread half way down his chest, but Patrick barely noticed, too turned on by the mental image of Jon naked, wet, and fucking himself on his own fingers, god.
"How...how many?" Patrick stammered, fingers gently circling Jon's hole, imagining what it would like to be push inside, and needing to know how far Jon had gone.
Jon bit his lip, pushing slightly into Patrick's touch, and Patrick fought the urge to just press. "I, um, th-three? I took a really long shower, and worked my way up to it."
Patrick closed his eyes and gasped as pictures of Jon wet, naked and fingering himself danced behind his eyelids. "And?" Patrick thrust against Jon's thigh, grunting softly at the friction.
“And…aaaah…and I, I guess I kinda liked it, but-” Jon looked up at Patrick through heavy lidded eyes “-I think I’d like it better if you were doing it.”
“Ohfuck,” Patrick groaned, moving his hips backwards away from Jon and taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to stop himself from coming before they'd even really started. He leaned up to kiss Jon--just a brief press of lips--before pulling his hands out of the Jon's boxers and stepping back. Jon gave him a confused look, which turned smoldering when Patrick's hands went to his own jeans and began to strip them off along with his underwear. He kicked them off, then sat on the bed to remove his socks, reaching out a hand to Jon as soon as he'd thrown them over to the door. Pulling Jon in, he laid his forehead on Jon's stomach and mouthed around the top of his boxers, dragging the waistband down slightly and biting gently at the newly-bared skin.
"Fuck, Patrick, please," Jon gasped, threading his fingers through Patrick's hair and tugging gently. Patrick ignored Jon's obvious attempt to get Patrick's mouth where he wanted it, instead placing open mouthed kisses along the jut of Jon's hipbone. He pulled Jon's boxers down to his feet, waiting as Jon stepped out of them before running his hands up the back of Jon's thighs and sucking the head of Jon's cock into his mouth.
Jon's hips bucked forward slightly, and Patrick pulled back and stood up, kissing away Jon's incoherent "sorry, sorry" before guiding him backwards onto the bed. They broke the kiss for long enough to arrange themselves: Jon lying on the bed, pillows under his head and hips, knees bent and slightly parted; Patrick kneeling between Jon's feet, hands gripping his calves. Patrick took a moment to stare at the sight in front of him; Jon's skin was flushed a rosy pink, his cock hard and lying on his stomach, eyes wide and dark, lower lip caught between his teeth as his hands gripped at the sheets. Patrick couldn't have resisted touching Jon even if he'd wanted to, and he ran his hands feverishly up the inside of Jon's thighs, cock twitching as Jon's legs fell open making him look even more wanton and wanting.
Reaching forward, Patrick began to stroke gently over Jon’s hole with his finger, biting his lip as Jon twitched, mouth falling open. “Lube?” Patrick managed hoarsely, and Jon gestured wildly towards his bedside table. Patrick found the lube, along with a box of condoms, in the drawer, and set them on the bed beside him. He squirted some lube onto his hand, warming it for a moment before spreading it over the fingers of his right hand, and tapping on Jon’s legs to make him stretch them out flat. Patrick moved so that he was lying beside Jon, head on his chest, and scraped his teeth gently along Jon’s skin as he slowly pushed his finger in.
Jon hissed as Patrick began to move his finger, and he looked up in concern. “You alright?” he asked hoarsely, and Jon nodded.
“Yeah, ‘s just…just weird.”
Patrick smiled gently--he remembered how odd it was to have someone else’s fingers pressing inside--and carried on, paying attention to every single movement, every single noise, that Jon made. When he thought Jon could handle it, he added a second finger. Jon’s eyes widened, and Patrick kissed him. “It’ll be easier if you bear down on my fingers,” he murmured, and Jon immediately did so. Seeing that Jon was still in a little discomfort, and knowing that he would be even more so when he added a third finger, Patrick figured that it would probably be best to distract him. Grinning up at Jon’s flushed face, Patrick leaned down and placed sucking kisses up Jon’s shaft. Jon’s hips bucked and he moaned, the sound making Patrick’s cock harden even further. Resisting the urge to hump the mattress, Patrick sucked the head into his mouth as he pushed a third finger in, stretching Jon open.
He continued for as long as he could bear it, until Jon pulled at his hair, gasping, “God, please, now, Patrick.” Patrick sat up and gently pulled his fingers out, mesmerized for a moment by Jon’s shiny, pink hole, and reached for a condom. He rolled it down his cock and poured some more lube onto his hand, before tossing the bottle over to one side and slicking himself up. Gritting his teeth, he only just managed not to come at the touch on his already sensitive cock.
“It’ll be easier if you’re on your hands and knees,” he panted, but Jon shook his head.
“Can’t we do it like this?”
Patrick nodded. “Um, yeah, if you’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” Jon said, smiling. His face was flushed and his hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat; Patrick didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone look so gorgeous.
“Alright. You should put a pillow under your hips, then.’”
Jon did so, moving so that his feet were in the air either side of Patrick’s body. Patrick took a deep breath and lined himself up, looking up at Jon with wide eyes.
“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Patrick whispered, before starting to push in, a little at a time. Jon was breathing heavily, his pupils wide, and Patrick stopped when he saw Jon wince. “Are you okay?” he asked, arms shaking with the effort of staying still.
“No, no, don’t stop, just. Wow.”
“Okay.” Patrick kept going until he was totally inside, and stopped, letting Jon adjust. He waited until Jon relaxed a little, nodding at him, and he started to move, leaning in to kiss Jon as he did so. He knew he wasn’t going to last--for all that he wished he could, he was too worked up--and he reached between them and grasped Jon’s cock, stroking it fast and hard, the way he knew Jon liked it.
Jon groaned low in his throat, gasping, and came all over Patrick’s hand and his own stomach. Patrick dropped his head onto Jon’s shoulder and thrust one last time before coming with a moan. He stayed there for a few moments, catching his breath while Jon’s hands stroked up and down his back, before pulling out as gently as he could. He tied off the condom and wrapped it in a tissue, threw it in the bin, and fell back onto the bed beside Jon.
“Was that…was that okay?” he asked after a moment.
Jon rolled over so that he was half sprawled over Patrick, head on Patrick’s chest. “That was definitely okay,” he said, smiling, and Patrick grinned delightedly before pulling Jon up for another kiss. They fell asleep that way, Jon’s head pillowed on Patrick’s chest, Patrick’s arms looped around Jon’s waist.
***
Patrick woke the next morning with his nose buried in someone else’s hair, and blinked sleepily at the morning light which fell across his face. His left arm, buried under Jon’s sleeping frame, was almost totally numb, but he couldn’t bring himself to move it. Or, well, he actually physically couldn’t move it, but Patrick really couldn’t make himself care.
He kissed the top of Jon’s head gently, and Jon made a small noise, shifting so that he was leaning fully on Patrick’s torso rather than his arm. Patrick winced as the blood rushed back into his fingers, and Jon frowned.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice sleep-husky.
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” Patrick asked, only half teasing.
Jon grinned. “I am absolutely great, thanks for asking.”
“Not sore?”
“Eh,” Jon shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle. Besides, it’s just a good excuse.”
“Excuse?”
“Yeah.” Jon’s expression turned half wanton, half shy. “It just means that next time I get to fuck you.”
Patrick blinked, blood rushing to his cock at the thought of Jon fucking him. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a suppressed whimper.
“Is that…okay?” Jon asked, biting his lip, and Patrick nodded.
“Oh, fuck yes.” He pulled Jon into a kiss. “But later, okay? For now, we need to sleep some more.” He turned onto his side, facing away from Jon and snuggling back into him as he spooned behind Patrick.
They lay in silence for a few moments, before Patrick felt Jon sigh against the back of his neck. “You know my parents are back tomorrow afternoon.”
“I thought they weren’t back until Monday?”
“No, Sunday. Just a full week.” Jon’s arm tightened around his waist. “I’m going to call in sick for work today; tell them I’ve got ‘flu or something. I can’t believe this is the last time we can do this for god knows how long.”
Patrick reached down and laced his fingers with Jon’s. “Well, we’ll just have to make today count, won’t we?” he asked, and felt Jon’s smile against his skin.
Epilogue
September 2003
“You promise you’ll call whenever you get a chance?”
Patrick leaned back against the van behind him, grinning up at Jon’s worried face. “I promise. Again. It’s only for a few months; you’ll barely even know I’m gone.”
Jon pouted. “It’s three months, and it’ll feel like forever, you know it will.”
“Yeah,” Patrick sighed, stroking a hand down Jon’s cheek and kissing him.
“Oh my god, you two are so disgustingly sweet you’re giving me toothache.” Patrick turned to Pete and glared, only half joking.
“Shut up, dude.”
“Make me, bitch,” Pete laughed, and Joe stuck his head out of the van.
“Yeah, and if you feel like helping pack the last of our stuff that’d be awesome.”
“Fine,” Patrick huffed, going over to the pile of equipment and picking up the last amp. “I just can’t believe we’re going on tour!”
“It’s gonna be amazing,” Andy grinned, slamming the back doors shut and climbing into the front passenger seat.
“I’m gonna miss you,” Jon whispered, and Patrick kissed him again.
“Me too.”
“But hey, you’d better go or you’re going to be late.”
Patrick pretended he didn’t hear the hitch in Jon’s voice, hoping for the same from Jon when his voice caught on his goodbye as he climbed into the back seat of the van they’d pretty much be living in for the next few months. He waved out the window at Jon until he was out of sight, and had no longer turned back around in his seat than his phone buzzed. He took it out and checked the new message, smiling as he saw it.
I love u. Cu in a few mnths. Jon xo
Three months of being on the road with one of his favorite bands, and then it would be back to Chicago, and his Jon Walker. Patrick couldn’t wait.
fin
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