Bandslash: Ryan/Patrick
Title: The Luckiest
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Ryan/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,773
Summary: Patrick is the luckiest boy ever.
Notes: chopsticknoodle requested Ryan/Patrick and I do everything she tells me to. She's fantastic for beta'ing this, too.
Pete is a pretty melodramatic person, but Patrick’s had years to get used to it. So when he calls him, frantic and rushed in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, Patrick follows orders and shows up at Pete’s door as quickly as possible. But then Pete answers the door with a smirk on his face and looking relatively unharmed, so Patrick frowns and pushes past him into the air-conditioning.
“What was so important that I had to get my ass over here ASAP?” Patrick asks as he slowly turns around in the hallway, not seeing anything that really requires his help.
“Ryan is coming over for the night. You’re invited,” Pete says with a shrug and slides past Patrick. Shaking his head, Patrick follows him into the kitchen. He sits down on a stool and accepts the iced tea Pete passes across the counter. He takes a long sip before speaking.
“You need me here because Ryan Ross is sleeping over?”
“Right,” Pete answers with a grin. His smile is slightly predatory, and Patrick can’t help but shiver and look away. Great, because he really wants to be here while Pete’s fucking one of their friends. He knows that sleepover means big gay sex night. And possibly 80s movies, but he never really asks about the overnights.
“I think I better go,” Patrick says, standing up. He growls softly when Pete places his hands on his shoulders and shoves him back into his seat. His best friend is kind of evil.
“I invited you for a reason, Trick,” Pete says. He looks down at his nails, and Patrick wonders if maybe he could pretend to go to the bathroom and sneak out. If only his ass would fit out the window. He used to be better at these things.
“So I could film all the sex?” he asks dryly.
“I won’t be having any,” Pete tells him. “I usually don’t fuck around with people using me to get to someone else.” And then he lets out this exasperated sigh and it’s all Patrick can to not to jump over the counter - or ok, slowly walk around it - and hug him.
“I’m sorry, Pete,” he says. And he is, because Pete is all kinds of awesome and usually ends up completely fucked over in relationships. Patrick actually bases his own relationships on doing everything Pete doesn’t do. It’s horrible, and he’d never admit to it, but it usually works out for him. “So you invited me over because I’m tough? And need to straighten Ross out?” He snorts, breaking out into laughter when Pete shoots him an incredulous look and rolls his eyes.
“It took me awhile to figure out what was going on, because I’m totally not used to people sleeping with me to get to my friends, but I am a genius and everything. So basically Ross wants to bone you, Trick.” Patrick chokes on his iced tea, one stray ice cube getting lodged in his throat, and coughs hard before staring at Pete.
“Funny. Really funny,” he finally manages to spit out. And isn’t it just like Pete to tease him, to dangle some unattainable goal in front of him? Because there’s no way in hell someone as pretty and talented as Ryan is pining over him. Just not possible.
“It’s true. I don’t lie,” Pete says, and Patrick just glares at him. “Ok, I don’t lie about important things like your non-existent love life.”
Patrick has to at least give him that. Pete’s mostly a gentleman when it comes to affairs of the heart. He’s a complete ass the rest of the time, but he’s Patrick’s best friend so he puts up with it.
--
About half an hour into the sleepover, Patrick realizes he’s way out of his league. Pete is sprawled out on the floor, a pillow beneath his head as he comments on everything Emilio Estevez is doing. Ryan is this mass of heat next to Patrick, and he can’t even believe someone that thin can be that warm. Only it feels nice, and when Ryan yawns and moves closer Patrick tries his best not to smile.
Pete talked him into pajama pants, or rather glared and bitched about the proper sleepover attire until Patrick threw up his hands in disgust and changed. Ryan showed up in his, slinking out of his Mercedes in a stylish pair of plaid pajama pants. They’re soft against Patrick’s forearm, and he does his best not to shift too often, not wanting to completely creep Ryan out.
He can’t tell if Pete is right about the whole Ryan wanting him thing, but Ryan does keep edging closer. And it’s not like The Breakfast Club is a movie that calls for cuddling or snuggling. Though Ryan feels nice in a way Pete never does, he doesn’t cling to Patrick or paw at him during slow moments in the movie. In fact, he seems content to just sit next to Patrick, their thighs pressed against each other even though the couch is big enough to fit an orgy on.
Patrick swallows and tried to never think about that again. He’s slept on this couch for fuck’s sake.
Shortly after they watch Molly Ringwald do her lipstick trick, Pete springs up, smiling at Ryan before pausing the movie. “We need snacks. The kind that lives at the store. I’ll be back in about twenty,” Pete says, not even giving Patrick time to argue before he’s racing out of the room.
To say Patrick panics would be putting it mildly.
He folds his hands neatly in his lap and stares down at them, not sure what the hell he should be doing now that he’s alone with Ryan. Sure, he could trust Pete and just hit on him, but Patrick isn’t good at hitting on people. He usually mumbles something about their musical talent and then ducks his head and runs away as quickly as humanly possible.
Patrick’s contemplating hiding in the bathroom when he hears a deep sigh from his right. He turns his head and sees Ryan looking at him, his lips pursed and his eyes cloudy.
“You are so difficult,” he says with another sigh. Patrick is about to apologize, but then Ryan’s moving, sliding into his lap, and all Patrick can do is stare at him.
He’s not quite sure where to put his hands.
“Uh...sorry?” he manages to say. Because Ryan Ross is straddling him, and his brain seems to have taken a coffee break.
“I’m supposed to be seducing you,” Ryan admits. He lifts a hand and brushes his bangs out of his eyes before giving Patrick the most earnest pout he’s ever seen.
“I don’t get seduced a lot,” Patrick mumbles. His hands are still in the air, hovering over the sharp juts of Ryan’s hips.
“That’s a shame. It really is. You’re kind of gorgeous,” Ryan says with a smile. He reaches out and trails his fingers across Patrick’s cheekbone before cupping his chin.
“I’m short and fat,” Patrick tells him, giving him one last chance to just walk away and get on with his life. Because if Ryan is really into him? Patrick’s never letting him go. Ever.
“I’m bony and egotistical,” Ryan quips back.
And then they’re kissing, Ryan’s lips slanting over his own, and Patrick can’t even remember what to do. His head is reeling, his thoughts all jumbled as he kisses back, trailing his tongue across Ryan’s lips. And when Ryan opens his mouth, Patrick moans, letting Ryan swallow it down. He lets his hands fall to Ryan’s waist, holding him gently, still giving him room to run if he needs it.
Only Ryan doesn’t run, and Patrick could really get used to this.
Ryan bites down on Patrick’s lower lip, tugging as he pulls back. He looks down at Patrick, and Patrick shivers under the intense gaze. He is the luckiest boy ever.
Ryan laughs, deep in his throat, and lowers his head again, bringing his lips against Patrick’s neck. He sucks gently, adding teeth a moment later, and Patrick lets out an embarrassing noise than only seems to make Ryan try harder. He lets his hands wander over the curves of Ryan’s body, lets his fingers flirt with the hem of Ryan’s v-neck. His skin is warm beneath Patrick’s hands, and he lifts the shirt, pushing his luck as much as he can.
Only he doesn’t have to, because Ryan just sits back up and tugs the shirt over his head. He’s so fucking graceful that Patrick should hate him. Only he really really likes him, so he settles on a quick pout before leaning forward and licking a path up Ryan’s chest.
When Ryan reaches for his hat there’s a momentary panic, but he whispers, “Wanted you for years,” against Patrick’s neck, and it calms him down. Ryan runs his hands through Patrick’s hair, sighing again before crushing their lips together. Patrick’s so lost in the feel of Ryan’s skin against his palms and Ryan’s mouth on his that he doesn’t realize Ryan’s undressing him, shoving his shirt over his head.
It’s like Ryan can fucking read his mind, because he grabs Patrick’s wrists and holds his arms out, smirking as he runs his eyes over Patrick’s body. “I could get used to this,” Ryan says, licking his lips before dipping down to suck on the hollow of Patrick’s neck. And really, Patrick could get used to it. He tells Ryan and is answered with a laugh. But it’s not harsh, and Patrick’s pretty sure they’re on the same page.
And then Ryan sits up, resting his palms on Patrick’s shoulder. He chews on his lower lip, staring down at Patrick with dark eyes. He grinds his hips against Patrick’s, causing them both to moan. Patrick’s so hard it hurts, and he’s suddenly thankful for the damn pajama pants.
Ryan slips his hand past the waistband of Patrick’s pants, scooting back just far enough so he has room to work. Patrick whimpers at the first touch of Ryan’s fingers on his cock and throws his head back against the couch. Ryan jacks him slowly, his fingers calloused and rough against Patrick’s dick. Patrick clings to Ryan, his fingers digging into slender hips as Ryan strokes him.
And then Ryan stands up and thrusts one hand under the couch cushion. Patrick looks up at him, and his mouth opens and closes on its own. He’s about to ask what he did wrong when Ryan grins and holds up a condom and a tube of lube. Of course the little imp came prepared.
Patrick’s pretty sure he’s been set up, but he could care less.
“You planned this?” he asks, even though he should probably just go with it. But Ryan turns this adorable shade of pink and settles his hands on his hips.
“I got desperate and asked Pete for help,” Ryan admits. His voice is soft, the softest Patrick’s ever heard it, and he falls in love just a little bit.
“We’ll tell him in worked in the morning,” Patrick says and holds out his hands. Ryan’s smile is bright as he sheds his pajama pants and climbs back into Patrick’s lap. His hands are hot, sending flames across Patrick’s skin as he lowers Patrick’s pants. Patrick has to lift his hips, but soon they’re both naked, all skin and eagerness as they sit on the couch.
“You’re going to fuck me,” Ryan tells him. And it’s such a Ryan thing to do, so completely unapologetic that Patrick’s chest tightens up. He ignores it and nods, unable to form words when Ryan’s thrusting against him.
Ryan pushes Patrick against the back of the couch and flips open the lube, coating his fingers as he meets Patrick’s eyes. And then he reaches back, working his own fingers into his ass. Patrick nearly comes at the sight and can’t look away as he watches Ryan stretch himself, open himself for Patrick.
Ryan hands him the condom and Patrick takes the hint, ripping it open and sliding it down his length. He squeezes the base of his cock, hoping to hold off orgasm as long as possible. Though he’s really hoping this isn’t some one night stand, because he might die if he can’t see this look on Ryan’s face ever again.
“Ready,” Ryan says, his voice breathy and frantic. He strokes his hand over Patrick’s cock, slicking it up before straddling him and sinking down. Patrick clutches onto his hips, moaning as Ryan slides down his length.
“Oh fuck,” Patrick murmurs, and Ryan just lets out a breathy laugh before kissing him harshly. Patrick’s body is going to explode, he knows it is. Ryan’s is so tight and hot and god damn perfect that Patrick can barely stand it. He thrusts his hips up and Ryan just groans and meets him halfway.
Ryan’s hands are on Patrick’s shoulders, his fingers digging into his flesh as he rides him. Patrick knows his own fingers are leaving ten finger-shaped bruises on Ryan’s hips, but he doesn’t care, wants to mark him, make him his. He bucks his hips, moving faster as he feels heat pooling at the base of his spine. He’s so damn close he could die.
And then Ryan takes his hand in his, guiding it between their bodies and wrapping both their hands around his cock. Patrick follows Ryan’s lead and strokes him hard and rough, flicking his thumb over the head of Ryan’s cock. Ryan’s panting, his breath coming in hot puffs against Patrick’s neck. He whimpers as Patrick jacks him harder, tightening his fist just a little.
And then Ryan cries out, his voice cracking as his body goes stiff and he comes between their bodies. It’s hot on Patrick’s stomach, and he sighs out Ryan’s name before lifting his hips and thrusting harder, slamming into him. Ryan tightens around Patrick when he comes, and Patrick slams his hips into him once, twice more before coming with a sharp hiss.
He’s pretty sure his brain shoots out of his dick.
They lay there, breathing hard and covered in sweat. Patrick pictures Pete coming back from the store to find them naked and satiated in his living room. Then he realizes that, hello, set up and Pete’s probably gone for the night.
Patrick should take Ryan upstairs and fuck him in Pete’s bed just for the spite of it.
But he’s boneless and completely in love with the world at the moment, so he settles for nuzzling Ryan’s neck and kissing him softly. When Ryan lifts up, sliding off of Patrick’s cock, he moans quietly before stretching out. Ryan’s all business, taking off Patrick’s condom and tying it off before climbing back into his lap.
“You ok?” he asks, and for the first time all night Patrick realizes that Ryan is worried. Hell, he probably thinks Patrick fucked him for the hell of it and is about to run out.
“Thank you,” Patrick says. Ryan quirks an eyebrow and slaps him lightly on the back of the head.
“Did you just thank me for sleeping with you? Who does that?” Ryan asks, snorting. Patrick shrugs, because as much as he’s not a virgin, he’s not used to being post-coital with someone who’s gorgeous and maybe likes him.
“Me apparently,” Patrick says with a laugh.
“We’ll have to break you of that habit,” Ryan mumbles. He’s still naked, but he wraps himself around Patrick and snuggles close. Who would have thought Ross was a cuddler?
Patrick thanks god for small miracles.
“Planning on doing this again then?” Patrick asks, pushing his luck.
“I usually fuck my boyfriends,” Ryan replies. Then he stiffens a bit, and Patrick stumbles over his words in his rush to get them out.
“So...boyfriends?” he asks hopefully and just a little skeptically.
“Yeah, deal with it,” Ryan says, his voice trailing off at the end. For just a moment Patrick can see beyond the shield Ryan has around him, can see how fragile he is behind his harsh exterior. He decides that his new mission in life is keeping Ryan from getting hurt. It’s a good mission.
“I can handle that,” Patrick says quickly. Ryan yawns before nodding happily.
“Pete’s not coming back tonight,” Ryan says casually. Then he reaches for the blanket on the back of the couch and shoves Patrick down. He spoons up in front of Patrick and throws the blanket over their naked bodies.
Patrick waits until Ryan’s breathing evens out to close his eyes. He should listen to Pete more often.
Fandom: Bandslash
Pairing: Ryan/Patrick
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 2,773
Summary: Patrick is the luckiest boy ever.
Notes: chopsticknoodle requested Ryan/Patrick and I do everything she tells me to. She's fantastic for beta'ing this, too.
Pete is a pretty melodramatic person, but Patrick’s had years to get used to it. So when he calls him, frantic and rushed in the middle of a Saturday afternoon, Patrick follows orders and shows up at Pete’s door as quickly as possible. But then Pete answers the door with a smirk on his face and looking relatively unharmed, so Patrick frowns and pushes past him into the air-conditioning.
“What was so important that I had to get my ass over here ASAP?” Patrick asks as he slowly turns around in the hallway, not seeing anything that really requires his help.
“Ryan is coming over for the night. You’re invited,” Pete says with a shrug and slides past Patrick. Shaking his head, Patrick follows him into the kitchen. He sits down on a stool and accepts the iced tea Pete passes across the counter. He takes a long sip before speaking.
“You need me here because Ryan Ross is sleeping over?”
“Right,” Pete answers with a grin. His smile is slightly predatory, and Patrick can’t help but shiver and look away. Great, because he really wants to be here while Pete’s fucking one of their friends. He knows that sleepover means big gay sex night. And possibly 80s movies, but he never really asks about the overnights.
“I think I better go,” Patrick says, standing up. He growls softly when Pete places his hands on his shoulders and shoves him back into his seat. His best friend is kind of evil.
“I invited you for a reason, Trick,” Pete says. He looks down at his nails, and Patrick wonders if maybe he could pretend to go to the bathroom and sneak out. If only his ass would fit out the window. He used to be better at these things.
“So I could film all the sex?” he asks dryly.
“I won’t be having any,” Pete tells him. “I usually don’t fuck around with people using me to get to someone else.” And then he lets out this exasperated sigh and it’s all Patrick can to not to jump over the counter - or ok, slowly walk around it - and hug him.
“I’m sorry, Pete,” he says. And he is, because Pete is all kinds of awesome and usually ends up completely fucked over in relationships. Patrick actually bases his own relationships on doing everything Pete doesn’t do. It’s horrible, and he’d never admit to it, but it usually works out for him. “So you invited me over because I’m tough? And need to straighten Ross out?” He snorts, breaking out into laughter when Pete shoots him an incredulous look and rolls his eyes.
“It took me awhile to figure out what was going on, because I’m totally not used to people sleeping with me to get to my friends, but I am a genius and everything. So basically Ross wants to bone you, Trick.” Patrick chokes on his iced tea, one stray ice cube getting lodged in his throat, and coughs hard before staring at Pete.
“Funny. Really funny,” he finally manages to spit out. And isn’t it just like Pete to tease him, to dangle some unattainable goal in front of him? Because there’s no way in hell someone as pretty and talented as Ryan is pining over him. Just not possible.
“It’s true. I don’t lie,” Pete says, and Patrick just glares at him. “Ok, I don’t lie about important things like your non-existent love life.”
Patrick has to at least give him that. Pete’s mostly a gentleman when it comes to affairs of the heart. He’s a complete ass the rest of the time, but he’s Patrick’s best friend so he puts up with it.
--
About half an hour into the sleepover, Patrick realizes he’s way out of his league. Pete is sprawled out on the floor, a pillow beneath his head as he comments on everything Emilio Estevez is doing. Ryan is this mass of heat next to Patrick, and he can’t even believe someone that thin can be that warm. Only it feels nice, and when Ryan yawns and moves closer Patrick tries his best not to smile.
Pete talked him into pajama pants, or rather glared and bitched about the proper sleepover attire until Patrick threw up his hands in disgust and changed. Ryan showed up in his, slinking out of his Mercedes in a stylish pair of plaid pajama pants. They’re soft against Patrick’s forearm, and he does his best not to shift too often, not wanting to completely creep Ryan out.
He can’t tell if Pete is right about the whole Ryan wanting him thing, but Ryan does keep edging closer. And it’s not like The Breakfast Club is a movie that calls for cuddling or snuggling. Though Ryan feels nice in a way Pete never does, he doesn’t cling to Patrick or paw at him during slow moments in the movie. In fact, he seems content to just sit next to Patrick, their thighs pressed against each other even though the couch is big enough to fit an orgy on.
Patrick swallows and tried to never think about that again. He’s slept on this couch for fuck’s sake.
Shortly after they watch Molly Ringwald do her lipstick trick, Pete springs up, smiling at Ryan before pausing the movie. “We need snacks. The kind that lives at the store. I’ll be back in about twenty,” Pete says, not even giving Patrick time to argue before he’s racing out of the room.
To say Patrick panics would be putting it mildly.
He folds his hands neatly in his lap and stares down at them, not sure what the hell he should be doing now that he’s alone with Ryan. Sure, he could trust Pete and just hit on him, but Patrick isn’t good at hitting on people. He usually mumbles something about their musical talent and then ducks his head and runs away as quickly as humanly possible.
Patrick’s contemplating hiding in the bathroom when he hears a deep sigh from his right. He turns his head and sees Ryan looking at him, his lips pursed and his eyes cloudy.
“You are so difficult,” he says with another sigh. Patrick is about to apologize, but then Ryan’s moving, sliding into his lap, and all Patrick can do is stare at him.
He’s not quite sure where to put his hands.
“Uh...sorry?” he manages to say. Because Ryan Ross is straddling him, and his brain seems to have taken a coffee break.
“I’m supposed to be seducing you,” Ryan admits. He lifts a hand and brushes his bangs out of his eyes before giving Patrick the most earnest pout he’s ever seen.
“I don’t get seduced a lot,” Patrick mumbles. His hands are still in the air, hovering over the sharp juts of Ryan’s hips.
“That’s a shame. It really is. You’re kind of gorgeous,” Ryan says with a smile. He reaches out and trails his fingers across Patrick’s cheekbone before cupping his chin.
“I’m short and fat,” Patrick tells him, giving him one last chance to just walk away and get on with his life. Because if Ryan is really into him? Patrick’s never letting him go. Ever.
“I’m bony and egotistical,” Ryan quips back.
And then they’re kissing, Ryan’s lips slanting over his own, and Patrick can’t even remember what to do. His head is reeling, his thoughts all jumbled as he kisses back, trailing his tongue across Ryan’s lips. And when Ryan opens his mouth, Patrick moans, letting Ryan swallow it down. He lets his hands fall to Ryan’s waist, holding him gently, still giving him room to run if he needs it.
Only Ryan doesn’t run, and Patrick could really get used to this.
Ryan bites down on Patrick’s lower lip, tugging as he pulls back. He looks down at Patrick, and Patrick shivers under the intense gaze. He is the luckiest boy ever.
Ryan laughs, deep in his throat, and lowers his head again, bringing his lips against Patrick’s neck. He sucks gently, adding teeth a moment later, and Patrick lets out an embarrassing noise than only seems to make Ryan try harder. He lets his hands wander over the curves of Ryan’s body, lets his fingers flirt with the hem of Ryan’s v-neck. His skin is warm beneath Patrick’s hands, and he lifts the shirt, pushing his luck as much as he can.
Only he doesn’t have to, because Ryan just sits back up and tugs the shirt over his head. He’s so fucking graceful that Patrick should hate him. Only he really really likes him, so he settles on a quick pout before leaning forward and licking a path up Ryan’s chest.
When Ryan reaches for his hat there’s a momentary panic, but he whispers, “Wanted you for years,” against Patrick’s neck, and it calms him down. Ryan runs his hands through Patrick’s hair, sighing again before crushing their lips together. Patrick’s so lost in the feel of Ryan’s skin against his palms and Ryan’s mouth on his that he doesn’t realize Ryan’s undressing him, shoving his shirt over his head.
It’s like Ryan can fucking read his mind, because he grabs Patrick’s wrists and holds his arms out, smirking as he runs his eyes over Patrick’s body. “I could get used to this,” Ryan says, licking his lips before dipping down to suck on the hollow of Patrick’s neck. And really, Patrick could get used to it. He tells Ryan and is answered with a laugh. But it’s not harsh, and Patrick’s pretty sure they’re on the same page.
And then Ryan sits up, resting his palms on Patrick’s shoulder. He chews on his lower lip, staring down at Patrick with dark eyes. He grinds his hips against Patrick’s, causing them both to moan. Patrick’s so hard it hurts, and he’s suddenly thankful for the damn pajama pants.
Ryan slips his hand past the waistband of Patrick’s pants, scooting back just far enough so he has room to work. Patrick whimpers at the first touch of Ryan’s fingers on his cock and throws his head back against the couch. Ryan jacks him slowly, his fingers calloused and rough against Patrick’s dick. Patrick clings to Ryan, his fingers digging into slender hips as Ryan strokes him.
And then Ryan stands up and thrusts one hand under the couch cushion. Patrick looks up at him, and his mouth opens and closes on its own. He’s about to ask what he did wrong when Ryan grins and holds up a condom and a tube of lube. Of course the little imp came prepared.
Patrick’s pretty sure he’s been set up, but he could care less.
“You planned this?” he asks, even though he should probably just go with it. But Ryan turns this adorable shade of pink and settles his hands on his hips.
“I got desperate and asked Pete for help,” Ryan admits. His voice is soft, the softest Patrick’s ever heard it, and he falls in love just a little bit.
“We’ll tell him in worked in the morning,” Patrick says and holds out his hands. Ryan’s smile is bright as he sheds his pajama pants and climbs back into Patrick’s lap. His hands are hot, sending flames across Patrick’s skin as he lowers Patrick’s pants. Patrick has to lift his hips, but soon they’re both naked, all skin and eagerness as they sit on the couch.
“You’re going to fuck me,” Ryan tells him. And it’s such a Ryan thing to do, so completely unapologetic that Patrick’s chest tightens up. He ignores it and nods, unable to form words when Ryan’s thrusting against him.
Ryan pushes Patrick against the back of the couch and flips open the lube, coating his fingers as he meets Patrick’s eyes. And then he reaches back, working his own fingers into his ass. Patrick nearly comes at the sight and can’t look away as he watches Ryan stretch himself, open himself for Patrick.
Ryan hands him the condom and Patrick takes the hint, ripping it open and sliding it down his length. He squeezes the base of his cock, hoping to hold off orgasm as long as possible. Though he’s really hoping this isn’t some one night stand, because he might die if he can’t see this look on Ryan’s face ever again.
“Ready,” Ryan says, his voice breathy and frantic. He strokes his hand over Patrick’s cock, slicking it up before straddling him and sinking down. Patrick clutches onto his hips, moaning as Ryan slides down his length.
“Oh fuck,” Patrick murmurs, and Ryan just lets out a breathy laugh before kissing him harshly. Patrick’s body is going to explode, he knows it is. Ryan’s is so tight and hot and god damn perfect that Patrick can barely stand it. He thrusts his hips up and Ryan just groans and meets him halfway.
Ryan’s hands are on Patrick’s shoulders, his fingers digging into his flesh as he rides him. Patrick knows his own fingers are leaving ten finger-shaped bruises on Ryan’s hips, but he doesn’t care, wants to mark him, make him his. He bucks his hips, moving faster as he feels heat pooling at the base of his spine. He’s so damn close he could die.
And then Ryan takes his hand in his, guiding it between their bodies and wrapping both their hands around his cock. Patrick follows Ryan’s lead and strokes him hard and rough, flicking his thumb over the head of Ryan’s cock. Ryan’s panting, his breath coming in hot puffs against Patrick’s neck. He whimpers as Patrick jacks him harder, tightening his fist just a little.
And then Ryan cries out, his voice cracking as his body goes stiff and he comes between their bodies. It’s hot on Patrick’s stomach, and he sighs out Ryan’s name before lifting his hips and thrusting harder, slamming into him. Ryan tightens around Patrick when he comes, and Patrick slams his hips into him once, twice more before coming with a sharp hiss.
He’s pretty sure his brain shoots out of his dick.
They lay there, breathing hard and covered in sweat. Patrick pictures Pete coming back from the store to find them naked and satiated in his living room. Then he realizes that, hello, set up and Pete’s probably gone for the night.
Patrick should take Ryan upstairs and fuck him in Pete’s bed just for the spite of it.
But he’s boneless and completely in love with the world at the moment, so he settles for nuzzling Ryan’s neck and kissing him softly. When Ryan lifts up, sliding off of Patrick’s cock, he moans quietly before stretching out. Ryan’s all business, taking off Patrick’s condom and tying it off before climbing back into his lap.
“You ok?” he asks, and for the first time all night Patrick realizes that Ryan is worried. Hell, he probably thinks Patrick fucked him for the hell of it and is about to run out.
“Thank you,” Patrick says. Ryan quirks an eyebrow and slaps him lightly on the back of the head.
“Did you just thank me for sleeping with you? Who does that?” Ryan asks, snorting. Patrick shrugs, because as much as he’s not a virgin, he’s not used to being post-coital with someone who’s gorgeous and maybe likes him.
“Me apparently,” Patrick says with a laugh.
“We’ll have to break you of that habit,” Ryan mumbles. He’s still naked, but he wraps himself around Patrick and snuggles close. Who would have thought Ross was a cuddler?
Patrick thanks god for small miracles.
“Planning on doing this again then?” Patrick asks, pushing his luck.
“I usually fuck my boyfriends,” Ryan replies. Then he stiffens a bit, and Patrick stumbles over his words in his rush to get them out.
“So...boyfriends?” he asks hopefully and just a little skeptically.
“Yeah, deal with it,” Ryan says, his voice trailing off at the end. For just a moment Patrick can see beyond the shield Ryan has around him, can see how fragile he is behind his harsh exterior. He decides that his new mission in life is keeping Ryan from getting hurt. It’s a good mission.
“I can handle that,” Patrick says quickly. Ryan yawns before nodding happily.
“Pete’s not coming back tonight,” Ryan says casually. Then he reaches for the blanket on the back of the couch and shoves Patrick down. He spoons up in front of Patrick and throws the blanket over their naked bodies.
Patrick waits until Ryan’s breathing evens out to close his eyes. He should listen to Pete more often.