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Patrick is fucking bored, okay? Pete has been out all the time recently, either dealing with the new Clandestine drop or meeting with a band he's trying to wrangle for Decaydance. And when it isn't work, it's Gabe coming over with a new song that Pete just "has to listen to, right now, dude", or it's Travie visiting and crashing in their guest room for a few days while recording, or it's Joe and Andy coming over for dinner and staying super late into the night watching all the horror movies that Patrick won't watch with Pete. And, look, Patrick loves that his boyfriend is super successful and smart and business-y and likes his job, and Patrick loves hanging out with all their friends, but he's horny okay?? He's bored and lonely and horny. It's been a while since they've been able to do much more than tired handjobs in bed, and although Patrick thoroughly enjoys those, he's craving more. But, he knows that Pete is tired after long days at the office or driving around LA from meeting to meeting, and normally the sex they have is pretty.... exhausting, on Petes part. So Patrick has devised a plan to make Pete.... forget said exhaustion. By means of distraction and dirty tricks. And he's planning on doing all of the hard work this time, anyways.
Is Patrick possibly exploiting knowledge that he's aquired via their shared computers search history and the looks that Pete sometimes aims at his chest when they're 'in the moment'? Yes. Is he ashamed of himself? Well, not yet. As of now, he's too fucking desperate to be embarrassed. He needs to be dicked down, then he can start worrying about things like that.
The point is, this is going to be a win-win situation all around. Patrick will have his needs satiated, and Pete will get to indulge in a kink that he hasn't yet admitted to.
The thing is, Patrick knows he's put on some weight recently. He's not 'as young as he once was' or whatever it is that people say. He hates going to the gym and he eats well (Pete has started rewatching Chopped and thinks he's a qualified chef now. Patrick doesn't complain because the food isn't actually half bad). So, naturally, he's gaining some weight back. He doesn't really care, for once in his life. When he was younger he would've worn baggy clothes and avoided mirrors, but being with someone who loves his body has changed a lot of things for the better. It gives a guy some confidence, okay? Possibly not enough confidence to pull off what he's about to try, but whatever. Worth a shot.
Patrick has put on some weight, and he's noticed Pete looking at his chest more often. He hasn't been entirely flat there in a long time, but in the past few months he's maybe gained enough weight that he literally has cleavage if he maneuvers his body with his hands. Pete has never necessarily been huge on nipple play or anything, but something is different now, and Patrick can tell.
So one day Patrick logged onto their shared computer (okay so maybe it's Petes computer, but he gave Patrick the password and told him he had blanket permission to use it, so whatever, it's not like he's really snooping) and clicks over to the search history. It doesn't take long for him to reach the websites he's looking for. Or, the websites Pete was looking for, that is.
Pete definitely has a thing for tits, at least recently. Patrick finds some rather interesting videos, if he does say so himself. Which he does. Because he may or may not have clicked on a video or two and blushed over his entirely body before clicking off and having to press down on his cock in his pants.
Last week, Patrick logged on to his secret Amazon account (which he really only uses for Petes Christmas gifts and birthday presents, because fuck Jeff Bezos but damn if that same-day shipping isn't convenient as hell), and purchased... a bra.
It showed up at their doorstep while Pete was at a work dinner (Patrick made sure it wouldn't come while he was home). Patrick grabbed it and pushed it into the cleaning supplies closet in their hallway - somewhere he knows Pete will never look, because bless his heart but that man has no clue how to take care of a house - and it's been sitting there ever since.
But tonight is The Night that Patricks plan is supposed to go into action. Pete is only at work for something like three hours today for two meetings and he'll be back by eight PM.
At seven, Patrick carefully unboxes the package he ordered. He's blushing before he even lifts the tissue paper, jesus christ. He feels like such a fucking virgin or something, theres no reason he should be so nervous about this. It's not like he and Pete have the most vanilla sex life, anyways. This will probably end up tamer than what they usually get up to when they have the time. But something about the thought of putting this bra on is making Patrick get a fluttery feeling all over. Patrick ends up having to remind himself of the time Pete had him in a leash and collar for a whole day just to work up the nerve to pull the bra from its box.
It looks exactly like it had in the pictures: baby blue and mostly lace, with pretty flower designs. It doesn't have underwire, because Patrick has heard that its uncomfortable. It feels so soft against his fingers, and light in his hands. It's... Patrick blushes and cringes at himself as he thinks it, but it's beautiful. Delicate, in a way that Patrick doesn't like to admit he loves. He's spent so much of his life trying to come off as tough, not let anyone think they can get away with shit around him just because he's short and chubby and cute. Normally he hates when people call him 'cute' or 'adorable' or any of those annoying adjectives. But secretly, he loves when Pete says it to him, when Pete holds him like he's precious, treats him gently and with care. It makes him feel special and soft, after so much time trying to look prickly around anyone else.
He smooths it down onto the sheets in front of him and just looks at it for a moment, getting used to the idea. With a deep breath, Patrick picks the bra up again and pads into the bathroom.
Before even putting it on, Patrick holds the garment up over his chest and looks at himself in the mirror. He turns his head away quickly enough to get whiplash and laughs awkwardly at himself, even though theres no one there to hear it. God, he just feels so... vulnerable, like this. He turns away from the mirror and slips his arms through the straps, stretching it over his head and shoulders and tugging at it until it sits comfortably on him. When he first ordered it, he was worried the cups would be too big, but they seem to fit perfectly. The lace is soft with the slightest scratch to it and it clings to the exact shape of Patricks chest.
Patrick brings his hands up to hold his breasts and instantly feels silly, but his nipples harden nonetheless - he can't help but notice that the points of them are clearly visible through the supple fabric. Patrick turns to face himself in the mirror again, hands back down by his sides, and the light stir in his stomach gets a little more insistent upon him seeing himself. His cock twitches in his briefs. A blush spreads from his face to his chest, disappearing under the bra, and Patrick scrunches his eyes closed. He thought he would feel clunky and awkward wearing it, but he doesn't. He feels different, that much he can be sure of. But good. And shy, that is. He can't meet his eyes in the mirror and keeps looking away to the wall instead, but his attention always wanders back, only to dart away as soon as he sees the lingerie. Can it even be called lingerie, if it's really only a bra? It feels like lingerie. Like something sexy and almost wrong, but in the good way.
Patrick starts getting all staticky with an anxious feeling. Not the kind of anxiety that Pete gets sometimes, but just the kind you would get when you're buckled into a rollercoaster. Half of Patrick wants to take the bra off and pretend this never happened, and the other half wishes he'd gotten matching panties, because he feels pretty dumb standing there in lace and boxers.
He's thinking of how he wants Pete to find him - Should he sit on the bed? Strike a pose? Wait in the bathroom? - when he hears the front door open and close.
Oh god. Petes home. Okay, now Patrick is starting to feel like this was a stupid plan. His breathing picks up and that static over his skin gets more noticeable. Logically, he knows Pete would never laugh at him. But oh, god, what if he does? What if he thinks Patrick is dumb or weird? Oh god, this whole thing is just stupid, Patrick thinks to himself, hurrying to tug the damn thing off. He still has the time it takes Pete to walk through the first floor, up the stairs, and down the hall to their bedroom.
It won't come off. Patrick yanks at it, but it won't budge. Theoretically, he could just pull a little harder and rip it off, but a little part of him doesn't want to ruin the fabric. What if the elastic snaps? What if the lace tears? That doesn't feel right, for something so elegant and dainty. Like it deserves a better fate, or some weird shit like that. God, Patrick cannot believe himself.
"Hey, Rick, you in bed already?" Petes footsteps are making their way up the stairs. Patrick panics. What the fuck is he supposed to do?
In a split second decision, he rushes across the room into their walk-in closet and shuts the door behind him. Never before has he been so grateful to have this extravagant amount of closet space.
"Patrick?" Petes voice is at the door now. Patrick thinks fast and hauls one of Petes huge oversized hoodies over his head.
"In here!" He calls, stepping slowly out of the closet. "I was just, um, checking... the closet."
"Checking the closet?"
"Yeah. For, like, spiders. I thought I maybe saw... a spider... um, crawl under the door."
"And you decided to shut yourself in there with it?" Okay, Petes skepticism isn't exactly uncalled for. Patrick is not fond of being anywhere near spiders. Fuck, he could swear he's a better liar than this usually!
"Yup," Patrick drags the word out as Pete walks up to his, stepping into his space.
"Baby, whats going on?" Pete looks down at him with an amused expression on his face and Patrick just can't stop blushing. "Are you... hiding something?" He's treating this like a fun game of clue and not the day that Patrick dies of embarrassment, how dare he?!
"No!" Patrick insists, way too quickly.
"Really?" Pete steps impossibly closer, the grin on his face growing. Patrick just hugs himself around the middle and shakes his head vehemently. Oh no, what if Pete hugs him and, like, feels the difference? And why does Patrick still have a semi right now!
"Because," Pete starts, "I think that you are hiding something. I think that you were planning something for when I got home and chickened out last minute."
Okay, how the hell did he guess all of that so quickly. That can't be possible.
Patricks incredulity must show on his face, because Pete just smile and glances towards the bedside table where theres an open and obviously recently used bottle of lube. Goddamnit, why did past-Patrick just have to finger himself open beforehand? Curse his horny impatience.
"Or, am I interrupting something?" Pete asks, gently lifting his hands to Patricks arms. After a moment of Patrick just squirming and trying to decide how to move forward, Pete adds, "baby, you don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to, but you know I'd never do anything to make you feel bad or uncomfortable for asking for something in bed."
The words just make Patrick flush even more and look down to his toes. Okay, this is dumb. He's just being dramatic. Pete will either like it or not, he's not going to laugh at Patrick or anything crazy like that. It'll be okay.
So, alas, Patrick takes a step back and pulls Petes old hoodie over his head, blush intensifying tenfold.
“Okay, so like. I sort of bought this last week,” Patrick says. He can hear his voice going all squeaky and knows he’s sort of folding in on himself but he just can’t help it! He’s weirdly embarrassed in some way that he can't understand. He feels lain bare.
Pete doesn’t say anything at first, just reaches his hands down and pries Patrick arms to his side so that he’s not covering himself up. His eyes have gone all dark, his mouth into a hard line. It’s the way he gets when he’s feeling particularly possessive. His 'you're mine, you belong to me' look. It’s definitely one of Patrick’s favorites.
“Fuck, Patrick. You noticed? I tried to be subtle, wait for you to initiate anything if you wanted to. I know you’ve struggled in the past with your body, I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable”
“I don’t feel uncomfortable. I feel kind of... it feels good,” Patrick admits, quietly.
“Yeah?” Pete’s voice is low and heavy.
“Yeah. Soft.” Patrick doesn’t think he’s blushed this much since the first time he kissed Pete, a quick awkward peck on the lips in the middle of them watching a movie.
“Fuck, trick. You have no idea what you do to me.”
Patrick slides a hand down to ghost over Pete’s erection over his jeans. “I think I have some idea”
God, Patrick feels so nervous. Also, like, really turned on.
“God, Patrick, your tits”
And, okay, at that, Patrick can’t help but laugh a little bit, even though he also feels super abashed. “What?” Pete asks.
“Nothing, just. You called them tits.” Okay Patrick is pretty sure his face can’t possibly get redder than it is now, but he’s also smiling a bit at the strangeness. “I’ve never really had ‘tits’ before. I’m also a guy.”
“Well they’re really nice fucking tits, so I’m going to keep calling them that,” Pete is smiling too and there’s a small blush on his cheeks. The tension has broken a little bit, Patrick remembering that this is Pete he’s with. He has no reason to feel weird around Pete, this guy has seen him at his very fucking worst and still loved him. A bra can't possibly change that.
His smile turns into a whimper as Pete crouches down and starts mouthing at Patrick’s chest. He’s not even near his nipples, just leaving open mouthed kisses on the skin that isn’t covered in lace, but Patricks cock still grows harder.
“How did I get so lucky?” Pete asks when he stands up straight again, spit cooling on Patricks chest.
“I could say the same thing,” Patrick says. And it’s true. He’s so in love with Pete it’s crazy. Patrick can never put it into words the way Pete can, with his lovely lyrics and metaphors, but he loves Pete so much that sometimes he feels like he’s going to overflow with it. Like it’s too much to contain in his heart and lungs.
With this in mind, Patrick decides that if he’s going to go through with his plan, then he’d better do it now. He leans up to give Pete a little peck on the lips first, a soft gentle kiss that makes Petes eyes shine. Then he starts leading him back towards the bed. Once the backs of Petes knees hit the mattress Patrick sort of tumbles on to him. Not as smooth as he’d intended, but whatever. Pete looks totally distracted anyways, just staring at his chest.
Patrick shifts around until he’s comfortably straddling Pete and thinks about the plan he had in mind for tonight. Thinking kind of goes out the window, though, because he can feel Petes cock pressing against him through briefs and pants (why is Pete still wearing pants, what the hell! Can’t those just like disappear on command?) and just starts grinding down on him like a fucking teenager about to hook up on someones couch at a party. Pete doesn’t seem to mind, though, he just leans back until he’s laying flat on their bed. He pulls Patrick down with him and starts kissing him. First deep, loving, slow kisses, parting Patricks lips with his tongue and tasting him like it's the first time.
Then the kisses move to Patricks jaw, gentle little sparks of what’s to come. And, okay, Patrick knows this was supposed to be him doing something for Pete, letting his boyfriend just lay back and relax, but… god it just feels so good when those kisses move behind his ear and he can bare his weight down and feel Pete hard against his own dick, just this side of not-enough. Then Pete starts gently biting at his neck, and wow, all bets are off, there’s no way Patrick can control himself when Pete knows exactly where to bite, lick, suck, kiss to push his buttons.
As soon as Patrick starts making soft mewling noises, he can feel Pete smiling against his collarbone. Patrick tries to wiggle down further onto Petes lap, but Pete grabs his hips and urges him to move forward and sit on Petes lower stomach. He does, because he’s totally putty in Petes hands right now and the bastard knows it. Pete takes total advantage of this fact and starts kissing Patricks chest again, this time little pecks and nips of teeth and wow Patrick is enjoying this a lot more than he ever has before. He didn’t really think he was a boob guy, but hey, maybe the bra just makes it different.
Pete starts moving his hands up Patricks body, finger pads dragging over his bare skin oh-so lightly, until he reaches his chest, where he cups both of Patricks tits (fuck, when did he start thinking of them as tits! He’s blushing absolutely everywhere again, he’s sure of it.)
And it almost makes Patrick gasp, even with Petes hands over the bra. He feels so sensitive all of a sudden, his body a live wire, leaning down further to fill Petes hands until he gropes and moans and buries his nose in what little cleavage Patrick has now.
Patrick is….. not embarrassed, that’s not the right word. Not exactly ashamed, not really. Maybe a tiny bit ashamed. But in the fun way. In the hot way. Yeah, that’s it. He’s burning up all over with this feeling, and almost cries out when Pete dips a finger below the cut of the bra and presses a nail into Patricks nipple. Patricks never been super loud during sex, not unless he’s playing it up, which can be fun sometimes. But he doesn’t have to play it up now, in fact he’s trying to keep it to himself a bit, trying to maybe still pretend that this isn’t totally doing it for him in the come-in-your-boxers-from-just-this-and-some-well-timed-grinding kind of way. It definitely is.
The breathy sound he makes trying to keep from actually making an Embarrassing Noise gives him away, though, if Petes smirk and glance through his eyelashes tells Patrick anything. He pulls the lace of the cup down until his breath hits Patricks nipple, somehow making it harden even more than it already had, which Patrick, personally, didn’t know was possible. And then Pete starts sucking and biting and oh god okay Patrick really can’t stop the little noises he’s making now.
Patrick has a tendency to go mostly nonverbal during sex. His vocabulary ends up just being “yes” and “no” (though, no doesn’t always necessarily mean no. They have a safe word for that, and a hand symbol. Also Pete is just fucking amazing at reading Patrick.) He always turns into a mewling whining mess, and tonight is no different.
Pete always says he loves when Patrick gets loud, and Patrick assumes this is why he starts getting all the more intense. He gently licks, then bites and pulls then sucks all while softly rubbing on the neglected side of Patricks chest. He only switches sides once Patrick is pretty sure he’s going to have hickeys all over his breast. At least he doesn’t parade around without a shirt on how Pete does every chance he gets.
It doesn’t take too long for Patrick to be writhing over Petes body, grabbing Petes hair, Petes shoulders, anything to get a fucking grip. This is when Pete switches it up and detaches his amazingperfectbeautiful mouth from Patricks tits. Seeing his lips swollen and covered in his spit makes Patrick so fucking aware of himself and what he’s doing. What he’s wearing. He’s immediately back to blushing intensely and going quiet, trying to lean down and hide his face in Petes neck as he pushes their hips together, desperate for friction.
“No no no,” Pete says, grabbing Patricks shoulders and manhandling him until they’ve flipped over and are further up on the bed, Patricks head resting on one of their soft pillows. “No hiding, baby. Wanna see you. You’re so fucking hot.”
Patrick starts squirming under Petes hungry gaze, trying to turn and hide his face in the pillow. Pete just takes one hand from his shoulder and grips his chin, not hard but definitely demanding, and lets his eyes rove over Patricks body while he’s forced to accept the attention. And yes Patrick is more flustered than he’s ever been in his life - which is saying a lot, since he gets flustered, like, SUPER easily - but this is also really hot and Petes hips are just out of reach of his and he’s starting to get a little frantic.
Pete notices, of course, and just chuckles and presses a little kiss to the bridge of Patricks nose.
“I love you,” He says, moving to kick his pants and briefs off, tugging at Patricks too. Patrick smiles and leans up for Pete to kiss him again; his way of saying ‘I love you too’. Pete shifts back to sit up while Patrick is still laying under him. “So, you planned this, right? Whats next?”
Ugh, now he has to use his brain? After Pete has turned him to mush??? This isn’t fair. Patrick pouts and tries wiggling further under Pete to get some pressure right where he wants it, but Pete just smiles and moves back with him.
“Come on, I can tell you had something planned, you little control freak,” The words are soft and fond and Patrick rolls his eyes because fuck he just wants to get to the good stuff already.
Through all the fog in his head, he’s able to remember what it was he was picturing when he thought of tonight. This is supposed to be about Pete relaxing and getting treated. Right.
Patrick is so used to being the one that gets pampered and controlled in bed that when he twists and flips them over so that Pete is under him, he feels the shift. It’s not like he’s never ridden Pete’s dick or anything, but usually when that happens it’s with Pete gripping finger-shaped bruises into Patrick’s hips and setting the pace. Now, Pete’s hands just lay gentle on his sides, brushing up and down lightly so that it almost tickles. He can’t stop staring at the space just below Patrick’s neck and above his stomach, though. It makes Patrick giggle a little, and Pete barely even reacts, which speaks to how distracted he is.
Patrick is emboldened by the way Pete is looking at him, so he just gets straight to business, reaching behind himself and sinking two fingers in where he’d already stretched himself. The gasp Pete gives and the tightening of his grip at Patricks sides only encourages Patrick to be as showy as he dares. He’s already prepped enough to take Pete with just a bit more lube, but he knows Pete loves watching him like this, and they don’t do it often. Patrick is… usually kind of shy when it comes to this type of stuff. Pete never pushes him to do anything he’s not comfortable with, ever, but he knows that Pete is into this sort of thing and that makes him braver. And, plus, it always feels good to finger yourself.
Pete brings a hand down to his own dick, trying to get some relief, but Patrick grabs his hand and puts it over the lace of the bra instead. He has no idea what’s come over him, made him confident enough to be this direct, but it might have to do with Petes encouraging whispers and intermittent groans as Patrick rises up and down onto his fingers. Pete gets down to business right away, pinching at Patricks nipples through the material of the bra. It’s a sharp shock to Patricks system, making his hand stagger and a whine come out of his mouth.
“God, you love this. You totally love this,” Pete says. Patrick has his eyes squeezed closed in pleasure, but if he could look down at himself, he imagines he resembles some sort of tomato with how much he must be blushing. “Answer,” Pete demands, his fond tone betraying the authoritative role he sometimes likes to slip into.
Patrick doesn’t want to, can't, put words together, so he just nods rapidly and bites his lip when Pete keeps tugging and pinching and twisting his tits.
“Kiss me,” Pete breathes, again in that soft gentle voice that he often can’t help using with Patrick.
Patrick pulls his fingers from his ass, clenching at the sudden change, and leans down desperately to kiss Pete.
“Love you,” Patrick says between kisses, “Love you, love you, love you.”
“I know, baby,” Pete says.
And he does. He loves Pete so much, wants him all the time. He wiggles on top of him, can’t get close enough, needs more.
Pete shifts away under him for a moment, and Patrick is about to protest, until he comes back with the half-empty bottle of lube in his hands. And Patrick must make some sort of expression at that, because Pete laughs warmly at him and kisses his lips quickly, a small sweet taste.
“Am I right in assuming you got yourself all ready for me before I got home?” Pete asks, voice teasing. He knows Patrick did, he does it a lot. He’s an impatient guy, okay, and sometimes Pete takes a while getting home from the office! Sue him.
Patrick just nods once again and sits up and back as Pete is about to slick himself up.
“Mmh mh,” Patrick voices, shaking his head determinedly. No, Pete isn’t supposed to be doing any of the work tonight. He grabs the bottle from his hand and pours some onto his palm before spreading it over Petes dick himself. Pete sucks in a sharp breath that makes his stomach ripple and Patrick smiles at that. He loves seeing Pete slowly lose it. He doesn’t want to get carried away with a hand job, though, that’s not the main attraction tonight, so he moves on pretty fast. Patrick rises up on his knees and lines himself up, sinking down onto Petes cock slowly, savoring the drag of skin on sensitive skin, the familiar stretch of his body. Pete is clearly working to keep still, hands back on Patrick’s hips, gripping but not pushing down.
They're both always quiet in this moment, lost in each other. Patrick can think of nothing but how full he is, how he's finally getting what he's been waiting for.
Once Patrick is fully seated and shifts a little until he’s comfortable, he makes a satisfied little noise that gets a smile out of Pete.
“How are you so hot and so cute at the same time?” He asks Patrick in a raspy voice. Patrick just blushes furiously in return.
He starts moving slow, rising and falling, letting the burn in his thighs set in from the effort. He’s focusing on getting fully comfortable first, but this show is for Pete, so once the stretch of his ass has given way to pure pleasure, he arches his back, tosses his head back, and starts going a little faster.
He doesn’t have to fake the noises he makes, little ‘ah- ah- ah-‘ sounds on every drop of his hips - he’s found a pretty good angle where Pete’s dick is hitting his prostate every other thrust.
“Fuck, Patrick. So hot,” Pete says, biting his lip and grabbing at the fat around Patrick’s thighs.
Patrick tries to push his embarrassment down and shakes his head. He gently grabs Pete’s wrists and directs them back towards his chest.
“You can play with them,” he pants out, trying not to die of mortification. Pete groans loud and long from Patrick’s words, hips pushing up outside of his control. Patrick is also trying not to come way too quick because wow he knew Pete was good with his hands but it’s a whole different thing when all the focus is on groping tweaking pushing twisting stroking his tits.
“Fuck, you trying to kill me, Rick?”
Patrick just leans forward and braces his hands on Pete’s pecs, taking some of the weight off of his legs and keeps riding Petes cock with hopeless determination. This just gives Pete better access to his chest though, and he quickly leans up and bites a nipple where he’d pulled the bra aside. Patrick lets out an awkward half-sob, but he’s past the point of caring now, his attention taken up by Pete Pete Pete and more more more.
Pete continues to be unrelenting, sucking Patricks nipples into his mouth one by one. Patrick gives up on fully fucking himself on Petes dick and starts just rolling his hips down, pushing his chest closer into Petes hands and face.
“Patrick, Patrick, gonna,-“ Petes voice is muffled where he’s sucking on Patricks tits.
And, fuck, if Patrick keeps going like this for a while he’s pretty sure he can come without even touching his dick, but if Petes about to finish then he doesn’t want to be left behind. He reaches down between them and grabs his cock, making a loud noise the second his hand curls around himself. Pete makes a move to join Patrick with another hand on his prick, but Patrick hits his hand away, shakes his head, tries to get himself together enough to use his words.
“No, keep- keep touching me,” He means for Pete to keep grabbing at his chest, pinching his nipples, pushing his tits together to create cleavage. Pete seems to get what he means, because Pete is perfect like that and always understands Patrick even when Patrick doesn’t understand himself. He just nods dazedly and goes back to attacking Patricks chest.
Patrick nods in encouragement and starts stroking his cock in earnest, already so close to the edge. It never takes a really long time with Pete, not unless they’re edging or using a ring, but Patrick almost can’t believe he’s already about to come. He’d maybe be disappointed that this didn’t last longer, if he had any braincells left to think about anything that isn’t fuck fuck fuck gonna come gonna come.
He feels Pete push up into him, hips lifting from the mattress, and freeze up for a moment, groaning loud and licking a broad stripe from Patricks nipple to his collarbone. Come fills Patricks ass and he follows and comes almost instantly, right after Pete. Even with all his brainpower lost to his cock, he still spares a thought for how embarrassed he is that what really pushed him over the edge was more Petes mouth than his dick.
Patrick comes all over his hand and Petes stomach, eyes squeezing shut and face scrunching in a way that he’s sure makes him look stupid. It’s no fair, Petes face is always fucking perfect when he comes; he goes all tense for a second then slack and blissed out with hooded eyes and parted lips and he makes the prettiest sounds. Patrick always gets really quiet, maybe makes some high pitched whimpering noises. Pete says it’s really hot but Petes a lying liar who cannot be trusted because he also says Patrick is hot when he wakes up in the morning with wrinkles from the bedsheets pressed into his cheek and his hair all matted and sticking up in weird directions and an angry scowl that always accompanies the idea of having to get out of bed.
As soon as Patricks cock stops pulsing, Pete flips them over, slowly pulls out, and swipes his thumb through the come on Patricks stomach, only to spread it over his chest and lick it all off. Patrick moans and he swears his dick gives a little hopeful twitch, trying for round two already.
“You’re gonna be the end of me,” Patrick manages to say when his oversensitive cock gets interested again at the sight. Pete smiles warmly and kisses into Patricks mouth, tasting of his come. Not a good taste, but Patrick will let it slide because he’s pretty much in a heavenly state right now, untethered from reality.
“Are you kidding me? You're gonna kill me, Trick. Fuck, so sexy.” He collapses down beside Patrick, letting Patrick koala grip around his torso and lay his head on Petes chest.
Pete lets Patrick relax for a moment before lifting his head and saying, “We really better clean up,”
Patrick knows Petes right but he still makes a big production of rolling his eyes, groaning and grabbing onto Pete even tighter.
“Come on baby, you hate waking up with come dripping out of your ass,” Pete says, and okay yeah its true, but Patrick still doesn’t want to move.
“Carry me?” He begs.
Pete sighs dramatically, but maneuvers Patrick around so that he can take him bridal style into their bathroom and set him down on the fluffy bath mat. While Patrick sits there, contented, with his eyes closed and leaning against Petes side, Pete starts a warm bath in their tub. Once he’s satisfied with the temperature of the water, he shuts the drain and turns to sit so that Patrick can fully cuddle up to him again. Patrick is a very tactile dude after sex. And sleepy. And kind of deliriously happy.
“Alright, in we go,” Pete says, guiding Patrick to stand and step into the toasty bath. Patrick almost forgets entirely that he’s still wearing the bra, until Pete stops him from sitting in the water and tells him to raise his arms so that he can take it off. It’s considerably more simple to get off now than it was earlier when Pete first got home. He just lets Pete tug it off and hums as he lowers into the water.
Patrick says, “That was nice,” as he settles, his back against Petes front, sitting between his thighs. He can hear Petes chuckle in his ear, feel it rumble through his chest.
“It was.”