Patrick looked away, his cheeks going pink.
“Seriously,” Josh said. “Where did you learn to sing like that? Your voice is so—”
“High and weird?” Patrick cut him off. “Yeah, I know.”
Josh drew back. This was one of the things that fascinated him about Patrick—his sharp edges, clearly earned by what he’d been through.
“I was going to say it’s beautiful,” Josh said.
Patrick caught his eyes for a moment, and the air around them felt charged. Josh swallowed.
“How are you?” Josh said.
“I’ve definitely been better,” Patrick said, and okay, fair. That hurt, but Josh deserved it.
Josh noticed that Patrick had a bit of a sunburn. He was wearing a hoodie and jeans, such a contrast from last night’s motorcycle jacket, but he still looked incredible.
Even more incredible now that Josh knew what he looked like when he was turned on.
“Did you go somewhere?” Josh said. “You look like you got some sun.”
Patrick lifted his chin and looked Josh in the eyes. “I went to Ocean Beach,” he said. “It helps me think.”
Josh thought about standing on that beach with Patrick, the way Patrick had looked at Josh like he had all the answers in the world. Josh didn’t have those answers, though. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He didn’t want to fuck this up.
But also: Sometimes you have to do the scary thing, Josh thought. Scary was monsters and bullies and natural disasters, but scary was also telling Patrick about Benny, and the ocean, and kissing.
He knew he wanted Patrick. He wanted more than one night.
“Can we talk about this?” Josh said. “I mean…about what happened last night.”
Patrick seemed to be having trouble figuring out what to do with his hands. He finally stuffed them into his pockets, hunching over, drawing in.
“We can,” Patrick said. “But we don’t have to. We can just forget it.”
“That’s not fair,” Josh said. “Don’t make me that guy, Patrick. I’m not the dude who hooks up with someone and pretends it never happened.”
“I—” Patrick stopped. “I don’t know exactly what kind of guy you are. I mean, in terms of relationships. And I’m not an expert myself, so—”
“Neither am I,” Josh said. “I’m terrible at relationships. Obviously. I don’t— I have a hard time getting past…”
He sighed. “I know how to make people happy when it comes to random hook-ups. Not to be arrogant about it, but…I do. I can do the physical stuff, the flirting, the joking around. But if it goes on longer, if it gets serious? Then there’s so much greater of a chance that I can disappoint someone. And I fucking—I fucking hate disappointing people.”
Josh has surprised at how angry he sounded. He didn’t think of himself as an angry person, but in that moment, all he could think about was the look his parents got on their faces every time they asked him about his love life or his future goals. As if they were preparing themselves to be let down.
He thought about Ramon.
“I feel like I’ve already disappointed you,” Josh said. “It sucks because I was trying so hard not to disappoint you. I wanted— I don’t know, ever since you showed up to see the apartment this summer, I wanted everything to be perfect for you here. To be better, somehow, because I could tell… I didn’t know how or why, but I could tell things had been so, so much worse.”
Patrick’s eyes flashed. “So this was about making me feel better because Fresno sucks and I’m a freak?” he said. “Because I don’t want to be some pity—”
“Why on earth would you think I hooked up with you out of pity?” Josh said.
Patrick seemed to struggle for a moment before blurting out, “Because I’m a freshman and a virgin, and I’ve had a crush on you since I walked in your apartment door, and you’re a people pleaser and a musician and very, very attractive, and you could hook up with anybody you want, people like Artemis and Alexis and the hotter of two cousins, I don’t know, and also we were drunk and wearing costumes and it was Halloween and… Why are you looking at me like that?”
Josh realized he was staring at Patrick with his mouth hanging open. “Patrick,” he said, “did you ever wonder why we didn’t do, like, a background check on you when you moved in?”
Patrick blinked. “Uh—”
“When I got your email asking to see the apartment, I laughed for like, ten minutes,” Josh said. “I wanted you to live with us before we even met. And then when we did meet and I basically handed you the keys…Freddy gave me so much shit for it, let me tell you. But I knew—I knew you belonged in our apartment, I…”
Josh drew in a breath, closing his eyes.
“Do you know how crazy it made me, seeing you with Eric?” Josh said, voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to… I wanted to give you space, not freak you out, and I wasn’t even sure you were into me like that. But God, I really wanted—”
“What did you want?” Patrick asked. “Josh. Open your eyes, I—”
Josh opened his eyes.
It was true that Josh had fucked this kind of thing up in the past, but it didn’t have to be that way. Not anymore.
“I want to kiss you,” he said. “Can I kiss you?”
Patrick could only nod, tiny jerks of his head.
Yes, Josh thought. Yes. God yes.
It felt like a punch in the gut, Patrick’s mouth on his and Josh’s teeth catching on Patrick’s bottom lip, his hand grasping at Patrick’s thigh. It was sloppy and wonderful, imperfect and amazing, better than their drunken making out, better than anything.
Josh brushed his thumb over Patrick’s bottom lip, making him inhale sharply.
“I want to know everything about you,” Josh murmured.
“I’m kind of boring, actually,” Patrick said. “My whole life is like one overlong episode of Masterpiece Theatre, lots of tense conversation and attempted witty repartee and no sex—”
Josh cut him off with another kiss, licking into his mouth with no preamble or build-up. Patrick’s mouth was so hot, slick and pressing, his hand curled in Josh’s hair. Patrick’s breathing went staccato.
“I could help out with that last part,” Josh whispered against Patrick’s lips, and Patrick snorted.
Josh pouted and pulled back. “Or not, asshole.”
“That was a terrible line,” Patrick wheezed between giggles. “How on earth did you manage to bed so many people? Seriously.”
“Probably by not saying I was going to ‘bed’ them,” Josh said. “I think that helped.”
“I’m sorry,” Patrick said, still snickering. “I know I just ruined everything, I’m sorry…”
“It’s okay,” Josh said, and pressed his lips to Patrick’s for a long, breathless moment. “I’ll keep trying until I shut you up.”
* * *
“Are you seriously trying to soundtrack this moment like we’re going to slow dance at the winter formal?” Patrick asked as Josh fiddled with his iPod, flicking through it with his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Because I don’t need you to, really. I’m fine with—”
“A-ha!” Josh exclaimed.
The familiar sound of brass came over Patrick’s slightly tinny iPod speakers.
“You’re a traditionalist, I see,” Patrick said.
Josh sung the beginning of “Try a Little Tenderness,” climbing onto Patrick’s bed and snuggling into his side, the sudden contact making Patrick huff out a surprised breath.
“I could listen to you sing,” Patrick murmured, “for a long time.”
Josh cupped his chin and kissed him until Patrick was shivering and struggling for air.
“I could listen to you sing forever,” Josh whispered, fisting one hand in Patrick’s shirt. “Just so you know.”
“Is my freaky voice actually getting me laid?” Patrick said. “God, there are so many people from my high school I wish could see this.”
Josh raised an eyebrow
and slid his hand under Patrick’s T-shirt, scratching his nails across Patrick’s stomach. He arched into it.
“Not really,” Patrick hissed. “I don’t really want anyone to see—”
“Or hear,” Josh said, leaning down to kiss Patrick’s neck. “Hence…Otis.”
“Oh, I see,” Patrick said. “There’s a method to your—fuck.”
Josh, who’d nipped at the dip of Patrick’s throat, grinned wide. “You’re right, there is a method to my f—”
Patrick used his slight size advantage to roll them so he was on top, cutting Josh off.
“I didn’t get to do this before,” Patrick said, pushing his hand under Josh’s T-shirt. God, that was hot. Josh shuddered. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” Josh said, eyelashes fluttering. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Josh wanted to live in this moment forever: Patrick, so warm and willing above him, eyes wide and cheeks pink and lips parted around an exhale. The way Patrick looked at him—it took him apart. It made him want to kiss Patrick until he didn’t know what had hit him, to make every first time better than the last, to make Patrick happy.
He wanted to make Patrick so happy his whole world exploded.
In this moment, though, Patrick seemed paralyzed, and that wasn’t okay.
Josh murmured, “I’m not saying you have to do anything, but so you know, I would totally not mind if you touched me right now.”
“Yes,” Patrick whispered, “because I’m here, and this is happening. Just because this feels like an impossible place to be doesn’t mean that it is.”
Josh’s heart clenched. He pressed his palm to Patrick’s face and tried to telegraph to him that this was all okay, that it would be okay.
Patrick pushed one hand under Josh’s shirt, his fingertips brushing over the slightly coarse hair on his stomach. Josh shivered and exhaled, and Patrick bent to place a kiss on his stomach, right above his belly button. Patrick licked his lips, and Josh felt it in his groin, his fingers, his teeth.
“I can’t even articulate how little I know about what I’m doing,” Patrick whispered.
Josh reached out and wrapped his hand around Patrick’s wrist.
“You don’t have to know,” Josh told him. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Okay,” Patrick said.
Shirts came off. Josh’s hands settled at Patrick’s waist, holding him close, pushing their bodies together. Patrick trailed kisses along Josh’s neck, over his collarbone, licked at his nipples until Josh moaned and arched his back and pressed closer, impossibly closer.
Patrick’s body was warm and his mouth was hot and wet, and there was no thinking needed for this, Josh realized. There was just his hands on Patrick’s skin, the sharp salty smell of sweat, Patrick mumbling his name as they rocked together, as they kissed, as the heat and friction built between them.
Josh came first, a fact that seemed to make Patrick feel victorious, even though he followed mere seconds after with a noise that didn’t even sound human. Though he was anything but quiet normally, he was strangely quiet in orgasm. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled his hand around Patrick’s hip with fingertips pressing in.
When he opened his eyes, Patrick was blinking down at him with a smile pushing at the corner of his mouth.
“I feel like at some point, we should probably do this with our pants off,” he said. “I mean…less mess.”
Josh stared at him for a moment, and then began to laugh.
“Not that the mess is a problem for me or anything,” Patrick babbled, “because this was so great. I am not complaining, trust me, I—”
“Patrick,” Josh said, lifting his hand to press it to Patrick’s overheated cheek. “Breathe.”
Patrick did, a slow inhale-exhale that seemed to ground him. Josh didn’t know how to tell his roommate this, but he liked him even more when he was a fluttery, awkward disaster.
“It’s always kind of a mess, I’m sorry to say,” Josh said. “But you might learn to like it?”
Patrick leaned down and kissed Josh, a soft press of the lips. They breathed together.
“I will,” Patrick said. “I will, I will, I will.”
19
“But…nineties dance night, Patrick.”
Patrick blinked at Josh.
“It’s nineties dance night,” Josh repeated, like he thought Patrick hadn’t heard him the first time.
“I’m not actually that familiar with the nineties dance oeuvre. On account of how I was barely even alive during that decade.”
Josh sighed. “I… God, I’m so old. I’m so—”
“Shut up, you are not old, you are only three years older, and you were a tiny child during the nineties too. I don’t understand why you’re so into this—it’s not like people take babies to clubs…”
Patrick stopped when he saw the way Josh’s mouth twitched.
“Are you serious?” Patrick said.
“It was only a couple of times when I was a kid,” Josh explained. “When I was doing children’s theater, the guys took me out in the Castro—it was really fun! Everyone thought I was super-cute.”
Patrick closed his eyes. Sometimes he didn’t know what do with Josh and his free-love-and-condoms childhood.
He felt Josh’s hands on his shoulders, grasping and pressing. What an asshole. Josh knew shoulder rubs were the best way into Patrick’s skinny jeans.
“CeCe Peniston,” Josh whispered, as if he were talking dirty in public. “Crystal Waters. The Real McCoy. Janet Jackson, Patrick.”
Patrick blinked his eyes open and looked up at Josh’s beaming face.
“Okay, I used to think that you were the less gay one in this relationship given that you’ve had, like, a lot of sex with women?” Patrick said. “But I see I was wrong about that.”
“Dance music is for everyone,” Josh informed him. “It’s the universal language.”
“I thought that was math.”
“Make out with me,” Josh blurted out.
Patrick fluttered his eyelashes. “Only because you asked nicely.”
Josh backed Patrick into the door of his room, his body pressed snugly against Patrick’s, and Patrick sucked in a breath. He kissed him hard, no build-up, and Josh’s breathing stuttered. He pushed his hand under Patrick’s shirt, skimming over his stomach and scratching his fingers over Patrick’s nipples.
“Fuck,” Patrick stated, and Josh kissed Patrick’s neck.
“I never want to stop doing this,” Josh breathed, and pushed his hand into Patrick’s pants.
Josh’s fingers were guitar-callused and rough on Patrick’s cock. Patrick’s head fell back against the door as Josh stroked him, his hands grasping at Josh’s ass and squeezing. Josh pressed them more closely together, his hand trapped between them, and Patrick could feel how hard Josh was. Josh bit his lip and tipped his head back, and Patrick ground against him, against his hand and the hardness through his jeans.
“You are a fast learner,” Josh said.
“That’s what they always told me,” Patrick said, and Josh snorted.
Patrick shoved Josh down onto the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling him. He made a low sound in his throat when Patrick pushed his hand into Josh’s jeans. He jerked him hard and fast, listening to his breathing get faster. He watched his face, the way Josh’s skin flushed. He leaned down and kissed him, breathing with him, feeling Josh shake, marveling at how he had this much control over him in this moment, that he could make Josh’s body do this.
“I want to touch you,” Josh managed.
“Later,” Patrick said. He was too focused on Josh’s body to pay attention to his own, too wrapped up in every small shudder and gasp and twitch and moan.
“Oh, God,” Josh groaned, arching his hips.
* * *
They were sweaty and sprawled out mostly naked on Patrick’s bed when Josh said, “I’m so glad you rented the single.”
“It was the only room available,”
Patrick said. He felt dizzy and out of breath.
“I definitely didn’t think about the fact that it was the single when I rented it to you,” Josh said in a small voice. “Because that would have been weird.”
Patrick rolled onto his side and narrowed his eyes. “You’re really lucky you’re so good in bed.”
Josh gazed up at him from under his (long, dark, ridiculous) eyelashes. “Come to nineties dance night?”
“Oh my God, was this all to get me to go to that stupid club?” Patrick yelped.
“No, of course not!” Josh said. “Well…I mean, not the first time. The second time was a little bit about that.”
“We’re going out now, you horny bastards!” Mike shouted from the hallway. “We’re leaving you all alone so you can be as loud as you want to be.”
“Because you’re never loud when we’re here,” Freddy called out. “That would be so rude.”
Patrick could feel himself flush, but Josh smirked. He pushed Patrick onto his back, leaned down and licked at his nipple until he groaned.
“Do you want to go to this club or not?” Patrick said.
He gasped when Josh added teeth.
The door shut with an emphatic slam.
“Mmm,” Josh said. His hair was plastered to his forehead in matted curls, and his lips were dark wine red.
“We could stay in,” Patrick said, watching the way Josh’s tongue flicked over his sternum. “I would be okay with that.”
Josh considered this, then shook his head. “It’s the last weekend before Thanksgiving,” he said. “I won’t see you for most of next weekend. Let’s make this count.”
“Orgasms equal counting!” Patrick said. “Orgasms totally count!”
Josh arched an eyebrow. “Going to the club doesn’t preclude further orgasms,” he said.
Patrick’s stomach dipped. He licked his lips.
“Just saying,” Josh murmured, his eyes never leaving Patrick’s mouth.
* * *
Patrick could have happily gone the rest of his life without returning to that club they went to the night he moved in—the same club where he watched Josh dance dirty and make out with some anonymous girl. Even being here right now with Josh’s arm warm and tight around his waist didn’t feel right. This place was still a reminder of that scary time when he thought he was falling for someone who’d never feel the same way.
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