Patrick laughed and took a sip from the flask that Eric handed him, and Eric leaned in and nuzzled Patrick’s neck.
Then Eric kissed Patrick.
When Josh had seen Eric kiss Patrick before at Taneisha’s party, he’d only gotten a glimpse. It was enough, honestly, to see them all cozy on the couch together, for Josh to get seriously hot under the collar. But this kiss—it was more. It was like Eric was staking his claim. He cupped Patrick’s jaw and opened his mouth and—
Josh needed to stop. He needed to stop.
It took everything within him to turn away, but turn away he did.
I am going to my room, Josh thought. People would probably notice if he left the house entirely, but he could not be in a room with this many drunken coeds right now, especially when two of them happened to be Patrick and a beautiful marine who was definitely not Josh.
It took him a surprisingly long time to get to his room, considering how small the apartment was. Amazing how many people could fit into a space this tight when they made a concerted effort. He stumbled over a couple girls doing Jell-O shots off Freddy’s old PlayStation and a witch and a wizard making out on the couch, and he had to push his way through a tight circle of boys dressed as various incarnations of Lady Gaga before he spotted Freddy. He was dressed as a cop, though his pants looked suspiciously like they might be the tear-away kind. He was sitting next to the stereo and messing with the iPhone hooked up to it.
“You okay, dude?” Freddy asked, and Josh promptly stumbled again and fell into Freddy’s lap.
Freddy righted him and brushed off his shoulders before saying, “You’re not looking so good.”
“I’m fine,” Josh said.
“Well, then, be good, my friend,” Freddy told him. “And if you can’t be good, be careful.”
Josh ignored him.
He thought that he’d been drunk that night with Alexis’s devil tequila and the club and the loud, loud music, but oh, he was so much drunker now. So, so incredibly intoxicated. So drunk. What the hell was in that punch? Jesus H.
He managed to carve a path to his room without falling over, but it was a near thing. He sat on his bed and arranged himself cross-legged with his guitar in his lap and began strumming chords. He felt a song coming on. It was probably going to be terrible and sound like Alanis, but whatever. Drunk songwriting was the best.
I’m going to be alone forever, Josh thought. Nobody will marry me, and my parents will disown me, and my best work will have been this Pat the Bunny fuckery I wrote with my stupid friend.
Turns out that drunk Josh was not only uncharitable, he was also a Liberace-level drama queen.
His door swung open.
Thank God, he thought. Save me from myself, stranger.
There was no stranger at the door, however.
There was only Patrick.
Though…could one really use the word “only” to describe somebody wearing a white T-shirt that was tight around his narrow, defined torso? Whose jeans were hugging him in all the right places, and who had the flush of someone who’d been kissed moments before by a marine who knew how to use his tongue?
“Hi,” Patrick said, putting out one hand to steady himself. It took him a couple of tries to find the wall.
“Is Freddy playing Vanilla Ice right now?” Josh said, cocking his head to one side. “Oh my God, I never should have let him take over as DJ.”
“I don’t actually know what’s playing right now,” Patrick said. “There are approximately eight million people in our apartment.”
“Who knew the actual capacity for this place was eight million,” Josh said. “All this time the fire department was telling us it was unsafe to have more than, like, twenty.”
Patrick wisely ignored Josh’s babble, instead moving forward so he was close enough for Josh to catch his scent. He smelled sweaty and boozy and delicious.
“Can I touch your suspenders?” Patrick asked.
Josh wanted to pinch himself. He was fairly sure he was dreaming.
This is a bad idea, he thought.
He nodded.
Patrick reached out, his fingers brushing the edge of the tightly stretched fabric crisscrossing Josh’s chest.
“You have so many suspenders.”
“I know, right?” Josh said, tipping his head down and following the path of Patrick’s fingers with his eyes. “It’s because I don’t have a shirt. I need all the suspenders I can get.”
Josh was pretty sure there was a flaw in his logic, but he didn’t have the brainpower to sort it out.
“I like them,” Patrick said. “I really…like them.”
It seemed like Patrick had no brain-to-mouth filter right now. Everything he thought, he said, with no pause in between to reflect or…refrain.
This could get so dangerous so fast.
“I like your jacket,” Josh said. “Wait, what happened to your jacket?”
It was true, Patrick wasn’t wearing his jacket anymore.
“I’m not sure where I left it. I remember being too warm because there are so many people in the apartment, and the jacket is big and leather and sweaty, and so I ditched it. But where did I…”
Josh had to touch him. He had to. Just a little. Only a tiny bit. It would be okay. He stroked along Patrick’s bare arm, tucking his fingers under the rolled-up sleeve of his T-shirt.
“I like this too, though,” Josh said. “Without the jacket is okay.”
Patrick shivered, even though the apartment was still plenty warm.
“Josh…” Patrick murmured.
Josh looked up at him, and his tongue darted out to moisten his lower lip.
“Can we…”
Patrick didn’t even seem to know what he was saying. God, Josh hoped he understood what Patrick was saying. Josh’s hand curled around Patrick’s bicep and tightened.
“I think maybe,” Josh said slowly, “I’m going to close the door.”
15
Patrick felt as if his whole body were on fire. Josh placed the guitar beside him on the bed. Patrick couldn’t help but watch the curve of Josh’s spine move under the X of the suspenders and let his eyes trace down to where Josh’s pants hung low, barely hitched up far enough to cover the swell of his ass.
When he stood, they were face-to-face.
Patrick lifted his eyes to meet Josh’s. Josh’s lips were parted, most of his lipstick gone. God, Patrick wanted to…he wanted to do so much. Things he’d fantasized about. Things he’d never done. Things he’d never even thought about. Everything.
Josh’s hand moved from Patrick’s wrist to his face, fingertip tracing his cheekbone.
“Beautiful,” Josh said. “You’re beautiful.”
Patrick didn’t know whether Josh meant his body or his soul or something else, but he couldn’t—he couldn’t keep doing this. He couldn’t keep wondering if Josh felt what he felt, couldn’t keep setting himself up to fall.
He had to know.
He closed his eyes, concentrating on the gentle touch of Josh’s fingers and his heat, so close.
“Please,” Patrick said, his voice hoarse. “Josh—please.”
The pause between the moment those words left his mouth and the moment Josh’s lips touched his felt like the longest he’d had to wait for anything he’d ever wanted. Longer than all that time waiting to escape a town that wanted nothing to do with him, longer than all his years of silence and fear and isolation.
Josh tasted like fruit punch with a touch of liquor, the pressure only slight at first, too soft. Patrick exhaled and grasped Josh’s arm, tugging him closer. He felt Josh’s breath hitch, then both his hands came up to cup Patrick’s face as he kissed him harder, faster, tip of his tongue running along the seam of Patrick’s lips.
Patrick opened for him and sucked Josh’s lower lip between his own, biting softly, and Josh made a surprised noise like a moan. Patrick’s hands found the dip of Josh’s hips, pressing into the bare skin above the waistband of his pants. Josh dropped
one hand from Patrick’s face to slide under his shirt, making Patrick shudder.
“Jesus,” Josh murmured, pausing to catch his breath.
He helped Patrick out of his shirt, skimming his hand across Patrick’s stomach and watching as Patrick sucked in a breath, muscles moving under his palm.
“I want…” Patrick said, but he realized he didn’t know exactly what he wanted, not really. Standing here in Josh’s room way past tipsy with Josh touching him like this—finally, finally touching him—and he wanted everything, but everything was too much, and he felt all these things at once.
Josh watched him with blurry eyes, his cheeks flushed. “Do you want…I don’t want to make you do anything that…”
“I want this,” Patrick blurted out. “I’ve wanted this since the moment I first saw you.”
Damn that devil booze. Patrick wanted to smack himself.
Josh hiccupped out a laugh, but he didn’t move away. He pushed his hand up Patrick’s chest, his thumb catching on Patrick’s nipple, and Patrick gasped.
“You’re so hot.” Josh said. “You have no idea. Fuck. Patrick.”
The way he said his name, low and urgent, made Patrick’s stomach twist up.
“Can we…on your bed?” Patrick asked, and Josh’s eyes darkened. He bit his lip and nodded.
Josh backed up into his mattress, pulling Patrick with him by his belt loop. They fell onto the bed together, laughing. Once they’d managed to untangle their limbs, they were lying facing each other, Josh’s hand cupped around Patrick’s hip, Patrick’s fingers threaded through Josh’s hair.
When they kissed this time, it was even better, bodies pressed close and Josh being less cautious, nipping at Patrick’s lips and sucking on his tongue until he groaned and thrust against him. Josh gripped Patrick’s hip even more tightly and pushed up, his mouth moving down Patrick’s jaw and over his neck. He licked at the dip of his collarbone and sucked at the hollow his throat, one of his hands finding its way back down to trace his nipple. Patrick arched his spine and swallowed a groan.
Patrick felt like he should be doing more, somehow, but Josh was making it awfully difficult. He was moving down Patrick’s chest, licking at his skin as he smoothed one hand over the front of Patrick’s jeans. Patrick pushed into his hand without thinking, wanting more, God, more, more.
He wanted Josh’s hands and mouth everywhere, everywhere.
“Josh, should I—” Patrick started to say, reaching for him, but Josh shook his head, tongue busy tracing a path from his sternum to his belly button.
“It’s okay,” Josh said. “Let me do this.”
Patrick huffed out a breath as Josh unbuttoned and unzipped his too-tight jeans. He felt dizzy as Josh slipped his hand into his fly and ghosted his palm over his underwear. Patrick was so hard. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to calm down. He knew he could come so easily from this, but Josh needed to understand how long he’d waited. Two and a half months. Two and a half months, and his whole life.
“Hey,” Josh said, and Patrick blinked his eyes open. “Don’t— You should watch. I want you to watch.”
Patrick’s heart hammered in his chest as he held Josh’s gaze. He could feel himself flushing. He counted the flecks of gold in Josh’s irises as he wrapped his hand around Patrick’s cock and stroked. He nearly flatlined when Josh lifted his hand to his mouth and licked his palm to get it wet, but recovered when Josh touched his fingertips to his jaw as if to say, Breathe.
Try as he might, Patrick couldn’t last. It’d been such a long time com— Oh God. He breathed and watched Josh’s face, watched Josh’s chest rise and fall. When Patrick’s breathing turned to gasps, and he could no longer smother his desperate little sounds, Josh leaned in and kissed him hard, swallowing his moans, stroking him until he shook.
* * *
Patrick woke up several hours later with no memory of ever having passed out. There was still music blaring, though at a somewhat lower volume, and he could hear the muffled sounds of conversation and revelry outside Josh’s door.
Josh was sound asleep beside him, one of his suspenders pushed off his shoulder, his hand curled around Patrick’s waist. He was breathing through his mouth.
I didn’t even get him off, Patrick realized.
He slid one finger under the elastic fabric of Josh’s suspenders, feeling him twitch as he pressed into his nipple. Josh mumbled something under his breath and tucked his head under Patrick’s chin, moving in closer.
“Josh,” Patrick whispered.
“Mmm?” Josh hummed.
His eye makeup was such a mess. Patrick followed the line of one of the fake tattoos etched into his shoulder with his fingers, and thought about how much he wanted to trace it with his mouth.
“Sleep,” Josh whispered into Patrick’s skin.
Patrick took in a shaky breath. He watched the shadows move across Josh’s face, watched until his eyelids drooped and he was gone once more.
Patrick woke a few hours later to Kai’s voice, followed by a hasty shutting of the door.
“Oh…oh, shit, I’m sorry—”
Oh. Oh, fuck.
He sat up suddenly, and his head swam. He was somewhere between still drunk and hungover, and wow, it was not an awesome place to be.
He was also still in Josh’s bed.
“Patrick,” Josh mumbled, eyes closed.
“What…what did we—”
“Pretty sure we hooked up,” Josh said, blinking his eyes open. He squinted at Patrick. “Unless I dreamed all that, in which case that’s super-weird, how you’re here—”
“Josh,” Patrick said, voice a warning. “Kai just—”
“Oh, whatever,” Josh said, yawning. “It wouldn’t be the first time he’s walked in on me.”
Patrick’s stomach flipped. He thought: Because Josh does this all the time. Now I’m like all the others.
“Right,” Patrick said softly.
He felt so…misplaced, all of a sudden. And sticky.
“Hey,” Josh said, touching Patrick’s chin with his fingertips. “Are you okay?”
“I should probably go,” Patrick said. “I—”
“You don’t have to go anywhere,” Josh said. “It’s early, you can sleep here if you want.”
But what do you want? Patrick thought.
“I—I’m sorry,” Patrick whispered.
He shook off the covers and pushed himself off Josh’s bed. He was still wearing his boots, for God’s sake. Classy. His hands shook as he zipped up his jeans.
Josh was sitting up now, his hair a cloud of curls, his eyes shaded dark with tiredness and last night’s eyeliner.
“Patrick, you don’t have to be…this doesn’t have to—”
“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” Patrick said, voice flat. “I know. I get it.”
“That’s not what I…” Josh said, but trailed off when Patrick looked up and their eyes locked.
Even now, Patrick wanted to climb back in bed with Josh, to slide his hand into Josh’s pants and watch his breath catch and his lips part.
But he couldn’t be another one of Josh’s hook-ups.
He couldn’t.
“I’ll see you later, I guess,” Josh murmured, an emotion flickering across his face that Patrick couldn’t identify.
“Yeah,” Patrick said.
When he pushed open the door, Freddy was standing in the bathroom doorway across the hall brushing his teeth. He was still wearing his policeman cap, otherwise shirtless in boxers.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Patrick raised his hand.
“Don’t,” Patrick said.
He let his bedroom door slam behind him.
16
Josh struggled to process what had just happened. He was still a little drunk, and he might have the first hangover of his life. He’d been so busy making out with Patrick that he’d forgotten his foolproof water and pacing regimen. Usually Josh was good at hydrating even when make-outs were involved, bu
t this had been different.
Josh took in a deep breath and let it out. Every part of him ached. Was this what Mike and Freddy felt like every time they drank? No wonder they hated him so much.
The night came flooding back to him in waves. Patrick in that leather jacket. Patrick out of that leather jacket. The way he’d said: Please. His fingers grasping for Josh. The sound he’d made when Josh finally pushed his hand into Patrick’s pants. The way he’d pushed up his hips to get closer to Josh’s touch, his lips parting and his eyelashes fluttering.
Josh had always known Patrick was gorgeous, but this was different. This was elemental. This was everything Josh loved about sex: that moment when you got to see a person without their masks and filters. Patrick had let down his guard, and it had been exactly as amazing as Josh had thought it would be.
But now it was the morning after, and Josh wasn’t great at those. He was better at the pull-on-your-pants-and-make-a-swift-exit technique. Normally Josh was not the most stealth of individuals, but when it came to leaving in the middle of night post-hook-up? He was a ninja.
The thing was, the best part of hooking up with Patrick had been the afterglow. Josh could have spent the whole day curled up with him in his bed, learning the different sounds Patrick made in his sleep. He remembered the way Patrick’s hands had felt on his skin, the way Patrick said: I’ve wanted this since the moment I saw you.
Could that possibly be true? Could Patrick have been—
Except instead of finding a way to keep Patrick in his bed forever, Josh had been a dumbass and opened his mouth.
So typical, Josh thought. Everything was going so well, and then I say the one thing that makes Patrick think I’m only in it for the one-night stand.
Well. At least now Josh had an idea of how to answer that eternal question: How am I going to fuck this up?
* * *
That afternoon Josh got a desperate text from his brother that read: I AM ALONE WITH THE PARENTS STOP THEY KEEP ASKING ME ABOUT LUCY STOP I HAVEN’T ASKED HER YET STOP PLEASE COME STOP
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