Work Text:
***
"The dragon roared and flapped it's wings, trying to knock the hero off his horse-" - the naration was interrupted by the ringing of the bell, signalling end of the schoolday. "We will continue this tomorrow. Don't forget your homework!" - with that, class was dismissed.
Everyone hurried to gather their books and run home to play or help their parents or do any other thing kids their age would do. Everyone, but Patrick, who took his time, lost in thought.
While he would never admit it, he liked those cliche fairytales about princes and princesses and dragons and magic. Not for the brave heroes and battles, but for the happily ever after that aways came at the end, when two lovers were reunited and shared a kiss under the moonlight. Some boys in his class made disgusted faces and noises when the narration reached those parts, earning a scolding from the teacher, but Patrick didn't care. The way the scene was described sounded magical, truly like something that was worth fighting a dragon for. He wished he could have a scene like this for himself in real life. But without the dragon part.
But since fairytales aren't real, all he could do is read and fantasize.... and doodle on the edges of his notes, which would lead to Louise teasing him, when he would snap out of daydreaming with a full page of drawings of moonlit bridges and castles with tall towers covered in ivy instead of notes.
And this is where the problem was. He could imagine the scenery, the atmosphere, even the gentle breeze and birds chirping. But not the people, not the whole point of the story- the magical kiss, that, according to the books he sneaked from his sister's shelf, was supposed to feel like the best thing in the world, filling the lovers with warmth and that giddy-butterfly feeling that authors loved to describe so much.
"In order to know something for sure, you have to experience it for yourself or ask the adults." John said once. Easy to say. Patrick has never kissed anyone before and he can't just ask someone random about what it feels like. Father would just look at him funny and go back to what he was doing and his sister would tell him to go do his homework (and to stop stealing her books), though Patrick suspected it was because she didn't know what it feels like either.
It didn't stop him from wishing, though. Wishing and daydreaming, relishing in the colorful descriptions the books offered until he'll get a chance to see for himself if they were correct.
"You took a long time." - his thoughts were interrupted by a familiar voice. John stood right outside of the classroom, books in hand.
"Why are you here? Don't you usually leave right away with your siblings?" - Patrick asked confused, coming up to him.
John shrugged and adjusted his glasses. "They're visiting grandma. I saw you were a bit.. out of it, so I decided to wait. Not gonna be a good look on me as class representative if I leave you to do something dumb like fall asleep in class and embarrass yourself, after all." - he smirked teasingly.
"THAT WAS ONE TIME!" - Patrick snapped at him, blush spreading on his cheeks at the memory. He huffed and looked away, hiding behind his bangs as John laughed.
"Sorry, sorry. But really, why did you take so long?"
"Um, well.." - Patrick weighed the options. On one hand, he's talking to John, who will never pass up an opportunity to hold something over him. On the other, he liked these kinds of fairytales too, so maybe he won't judge him too hard?..
"I was.. thinking of how today's story could end." - he started carefully as they started walking. Not a complete lie.
John hummed. "Don't they all end about the same way? With a hero defeating their foe and saving the captured romantic interest?"
"You don't have to put it so bluntly." - Patrick pouted defensively.
"I mean, all of them end in a happily ever after with a k-k-kiss.." - John stumbled over the last word, and hurriedly tried to hide it with a cough. Not that Patrick would let him.
"You stuttered."
"I didn't!" John turned away and pretended to look if his glasses got dirty. "Why would i stutter anyway, there's nothing wrong with a- a- you know."
Oh this is getting interesting. Patrick turned to his taller friend with a sly smirk.
"Yes, there's nothing wrong. So why can't you say it?~"
"Say what?" John refused to look at him.
"You know what, John~ Saaaay it~"
"I don't know what you're talking about! Say it yourself so i can copy."
"Easy! Kis- ki- k..." Patrick stuttered and after a bit of quiet mumbling, stopped and slowly looked away with an intense blush.
John stopped too, looking at his blond friend with curiosity. He wanted to tease him, but Patrick looked like he was about to combust already, so he decided to just awkwardly cough instead.
"Ahem, let- let's go."
They walked in silence for a bit, until they reached the lake. A lake very similar to the one in the fairytale. This brought on the thoughts again.
"Have.. have you ever... k- k- kissed anyone?.." - a quiet question startled John. He turned to look at Patrick, but the expression on his face was hidden behind the bangs. "N-nevermind-"
"No. I haven't." - just as quiet of an answer. "H-have you?"
"No." - Patrick shook his head, clearly embarrassed to ask and answer such a personal question. And that means he will shut down again, trying to distance himself from others. John will not allow that.
"Figures. Seems pretty obvious you were gonna save yourself for Louise." - he teased, looking out of the corner of his eye for a reaction.
"HUH?!" - there it is. Patrick turned so fast, John was afraid he would've sprained his neck. "How did- Why are you even saying that?! Are you crazy or something?!"
John just laughed, continuing on the path as if nothing happened, Patrick angrily cursing behind him.
"Well, would you want to try?"
"Huh?" - Patrick huffed and rolled his eyes, annoyed. "I said Louise has nothing to do with-"
"No. With me."
Patrick stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide in shock, mouth agape. John stopped too, slowly turning to him, but not looking up. Patrick could only open and close his mouth like a fish on land blinking in disbelieve. Surely, this was a hallucination or he heard or understood wrong, or anything besides what he thinks he just heard come out of John's mouth.
"What... did you just say?..."
"Do you want to try it out with me?" - John manages to say confidently enough, even though on the inside he was fighting the urge to run away then and there. He nervously scratched his cheek and started rambling. "I just.. wanted to for a long time, you know, for science, to find out if the things written in fairytales are true. And you can't know something like this for sure unless you try it- a-and I can only ask someone close to me, because someone else would just be weird aaand I can't ask girls, because, you know, Shirley is very shy and I don't want to make her uncomfortable, and Louise will never let me live if I ask her something like this andnotlikeshewouldletanyonebesidesyoudoit." - he mumbled the last part under his breath, only now stopping for a moment to see if Patrick was following him. He just nodded slowly, his eyes still wide. John sighed, mentally preparing for the next part. "Soooo... you're the only one left and, well, since you're my best friend and you like those fairytales too I thought that maybe you were wondering too and won't mind if I ask you to test it out with me- Wh-which you don't have to if-"
"Okay."
"What?" - now it was John's turn to up look in shock.
"Okay, let's do it." - Patrick nodded, more to reassure himself. "Two conditions. One - we will never speak of this again once it's done."
"Yes, of course." - John agreed. He was planning to say that himself. "And two?"
Patrick looked away for a moment, taking a breath to calm his heartbeat a little, thinking. "It- you want to see if fairytales were true, right? Then the atmosphere has to be perfect too." His blue eyes shone with determination. Then he blinked as if remembering something and pulled out one of his notebooks from the stack and flipped it open, then pushed it into John's arms. "Like this."
He didn't expect that. On the pages there were all kinds of drawings, some better some worse, clearly done in a rush under the watchful eyes of the teacher. Castles, bridges, towers, flowery gardens, you name it. John knew that Patrick had a habit of doodling on the margins of his notes, but he never expected that.
And he definitely never expected to be shown it willingly.
"Wow, I thought Louise was joking when she called you a sketch-master, Ricky. Maybe you can become an artist if you don't get selected."
Patrick groaned. "Do not call me that. You know I hate that nickname."
John returned the notebook with a pseudo-naive smile. "Aw, but it's cute~"
"Shut. Up. Do we have a deal or not?"
John thought for a moment and an idea came to mind.
"Remember that orchard where we stole apples last summer? Meet me there in 10 minutes. I think I know a place near it that could fit the description."
***
As promised, ten minutes later Patrick was waiting near the orchard. His heart was racing, and the foggy sensation wouldn't leave his brain. It was as if everything was in a fuzz, like a dream. Maybe it is a dream. A very weird dream about his best friend, for certain, but still... Maybe he fell asleep in class and was about to be called out by the teacher again. Or maybe it wasn't, and even worse, it was just a big dumb joke by John and maybe even Louise. Maybe he'll just sit here like a fool, while they're laughing somewhere at how easily they got him. No. They would never go this far. Unless....
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone running, and sure enough, John came into view right after, pushing the branches away as he ran to him. He stopped, then, kneeling next to a tree, trying to catch his breath, his glasses coming dangerously close to sliding off his nose. Patrick gently pushed them back in place, making John look up. "S-sor-sorry, some-thi-ing came up." - he huffed as he tried to get his breathing under control.
"It's fine, I just got here." - Patrick lied. He was so nervous, he came 5 minutes early. "Where is this place you were talking about?"
John finally got up, and after a few extra breaths, led the way. "Just behind this orchard. My siblings found it while playing a few weeks ago. Trust me, you have to see it for yourself."
Boys made their way through the trees and over a fence that never really stopped anyone, then a little overgrown backyard. Patrick recalled the last time they were here, how they somehow managed to convince Shirley to help them steal some apples, finding the best place for them to not be seen from the owners house window, how Louise swiftly climbed up to pass the fruit to them, how him and John fought over who could catch more without them falling to the ground and how fast they all ran when Shirley warned them about the owner coming out of the house for a walk.
"It's here." John called him over, jumping over a half-fallen stone fence into an overgrown garden. Patrick looked around in wonder. Tall grass covered every inch of land, sprinkled with bright pops of wild flowers all over the place, rose bushes claimed a part of the garden, tangled in a messy web of flowers and thorns and vines. A purple sea of lavender spread out over what used to be a walkway to the old house, it's walls covered in ivy, clematis and wild grape vines, like a fluffy green blanket with a flowery pattern. An old, slightly rusty arbor stood in the green field, it's metal structure overgrown with plantlife too, creating a canopy.
John silently watched as Patrick looked over everything, his eyes reflecting the sky itself, bright and clear, full of wonder and so many other emotions he couldn't describe. He felt warmth spread out in his chest at this sight. He wasn't sure if anyone has ever seen Patrick like this, so captured by something so simple. Maybe not even his own family. He could watch this for hours, just his friend walking around the overgrown garden with so much happiness shining in his eyes, it was as if he was shining like the sun itself, an easy relaxed smile on his lips, the kind he has never let anyone see, too embarrassed to let his guard down around others, too serious about everything he did. John wanted to take that smile for himself and keep it, never sharing it with anyone, a precious token of someone's happiness. He wanted to-
John snapped out of his thoughts. Right, this is why they came here in the first place.
"Does it suit your fancy, Your Majesty?"
Patrick flinched, seems like he forgot he wasn't alone. "Yes, it looks good enough." he pretended as if he didn't care.
"Suuure~ Now then, Ri-" the sky turned into ice as Patrick glared at him. "Pat. Do you have a preference in here... or something?.." Now that John started to fully comprehend what was about to happen, his nerves started to get the better of him. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down, but it didn't really help.
Patrick hummed as he looked over the area again. "How about the arbor?"
John nodded and started to make his way to it, his legs feeling like jelly, a pit of nerves eating at his stomach. Why was he so anxious? It's just a quick kiss, nothing wrong with that. There and done, more preparations than work. He shouldn't be so worried. But looking at Patrick now, with his eyes shining as he's looking up at the way plants wrap around the old metal structure, hands unconsciously moving slightly, as if he's sketching all he sees on invisible paper...
John doesn't want to ruin it.
They sit next to each other on one of the benches inside the arbor, neither knowing what to do and where to start. They nervously glance around, turning away the moment they happen to look at one-another, their faces reddening in embarrassment. It would've been funny, but they have come too far to back out now. One of them just needs to do something, anything.
"Um, so.. how do we start this?.." - John uses all of his courage to speak up first.
"Take off your glasses? They'll get in the way... i think.." - Patrick nervously brushed his bangs behind his ear, as much as he could. John was relieved to see that he too was red as a tomato. He obliged and pushed his glasses up, to stay on top of his head, blinking to adjust to the sudden lack of clear shapes and lines. "Now what?"
"You go for it. I-I can't." - John wanted to refuse, but the note of desperation in Patrick's voice made him push through. He asked for this. Literally, he asked for this. He is not going to chicken out at the finish line.
So John took a deep breath to calm himself and turned to Patrick, who, judging from the shape shifting and the sound of movement of clothes on an old bench, turned to him too. John held up his palms and clarified "I can't see anything". The message was clear enough, as a pair of warm sightly shaking hands took his own and led them to the other's face. He could feel the warmth of his flushed skin, how it very slightly moved when he blinked, how tense his jaw was clenched in nervousness. John closed his almost useless eyes to feel more instead. He gently rubbed his thumb over the other's cheek, hearing him gasp slightly at this. An almost giddy feeling spread out inside John's chest at that sound and he shivered in anticipation of something he never felt before.
"I-I'm doing this."- he whispered, more to reassure himself than to warn Patrick. He heard a soft breathless hum in return. No going back now. He slowly leaned in...
Only for them to bump noses.
Both boys jumped back, hissing from god knows what. Maybe embarrassment, maybe disappointment over such a moment being ruined.
"What was that?!" - Patrick cursed under his breath. "Are you kidding me right now?"
"I told you I can't see!" John defensively snapped, embarrassed over his miscalculation.
"You literally have your hands on my face! And you still managed to miss! HOW?!"
"Well, this wouldn't have happened if you - the one who can see - did this instead, Pat!"
"Why do you even have your eyes opened?! It's so weird! You're supposed to close them!"
"I had them closed! What are you complaining about?!"
"I don't know! I'm just really mad right now!"
"Fine! Be that way!"
They both panted from yelling at the other. The only sound besides their ragged breathing was the wind rustling through the plants all around them.
Then Patrick started quietly hiccuping. A sharp shock ran through John as he felt terrified that he has screwed over everything, that his dumb mistake now made Patrick cry, that he will shut down again like he did when they were little. It took so much effort from all of them to bring him back out again, even partially. And now he ruined it just like that. He never should have offered this in the first place.
But then hiccups turned into giggles and then into full blown laughter. John pushed his glasses back down, to see what hell just happened. But he found nothing. Only Patrick laughing like he just heard the funniest joke ever told in the million years. For a second he got worried that his friend has lost his mind. Slowly, Patrick started to calm down, breathing deeply to push away the giggles.
"We are such idiots." - he finally stated, shaking his head.
"Are you.. okay?.." John asked weary. He still had no clue what just happened and was afraid to ask.
"Yes, just.. this is such a dumb thing. And yet we still managed to fight over it. I guess... some things will never change. That's good." - the skies in his eyes were now covered in clouds. Not enough to rain, but none of the sunny warmth either. John hesitated, maybe it was best to call it off here- but then Patrick turned to him with a determined look.
"Again."
"A- what?"
"Kiss me again." - he said confidently, even though a deep blush was creeping onto his cheeks and his determined smile wavered. John couldn't help but stare in awe at such a change. And, of course, he obliged, pushing his glasses back up again, his hands on Patrick's face.
But this time, he made sure to picture every detail in his mind, tracing his fingers lightly over his friend's features. His flushed cheeks, his slightly upturned nose, his downturned sky-like eyes, closed patiently, his long eyelashes trembling at the small soft dances of fingers on his face, his cute bangs he likes to hide behind, now gently pushed aside and tucked behind his ear. The curve of his lips.
John took a breath and counted to ten. He can do this. He was so close, he can do it for sure this time.
"Try two." - he heard a chuckle at that and couldn't help but smile too. He can do this. Everything was perfect. The scenery right out of a fairytale, the atmosphere of a secret place that only they know about. And them two, ready to try again and again if need be.
He slowly leaned in again, this time sure of everything. He could feel the other's breath against his face. Heat rose from John's stomach to his chest. He was so close, he could feel the warmth radiated from Patrick's skin. His heart beat so fast, he felt as if he might pass out. It felt almost hypnotic to stay this close, barely millimeters away, but not daring to close the distance. But he kept them both waiting long enough. And with the slightest tilt of his head their lips finally met.
Soft.
If he could describe it in one word it would be "soft". And also a million other words, some of which he can't even comprehend.
His whole body tingled as Patrick sighed into their kiss, leaning closer, a hand sneaking around John's neck. He pulled him in, one of his hands finding it's way to the shorter boy's waist, holding him gently, as if made of glass. He wasn't sure if it was actually happening or if he just dreamed this moment up, but the endless warmth felt real enough to wish he never had to let go of it.
The time resumed as they parted, completely breathless, the tingling feeling on their lips as proof that this has indeed happened.
From this close, John could see the way Patrick softly blinked, as if waking up from a dream, his eyes glazed over, half-opened, but bright and clear.
Then the sky-blue met grayish-purple.
And they both leaned in again.
Patrick felt as if his heart would burst, his body felt weak, that weird flutter spreading in his stomach, in his chest, in his back, everywhere and he didn't want it to stop. He couldn't even feel his fingers, until they met the thin frame of John's glasses. He gently pulled them off, laying them on the bench beside them and let his hand travel through the short raven locks. Each time they came back for air, he opened his eyes slightly, to make sure it wasn't just imagination playing a cruel trick on him. But the soft feather-like touches against his lips, the warm hands on his face and waist send waves of shivers through his body, and for the first time he'd known himself, he didn't feel shy.
He read this in his sister's books, practically all of them mentioned something along the lines of this... it must be a normal thing then, right? He wasn't sure. But he was too in the moment, too drunk on the taste, the smell, the sound, the feeling to care now. And as they met again, he softly licked John's bottom lip. That made him jump, as he gasped in shock at a new momentary sensation. He looked at Patrick with wide eyes, fingers hovering over his lips as he blinked confusedly and... shyly? His eyes then drifted around, as he found his glasses and put them back on, still unable to form words. A million of thoughts ran through his mind, from "Oh my god, this actually happened!" to "This was much better than the books described!" to "...where did Patrick learn such grown up moves?..". John looked up at his friend again, who sat there with his eyes closed, as if replaying everything that happened inside his mind.
John never expected something like this to come from a guy, who becomes extremely shy and awkward when feelings get brought up. This new revelation made his feel weird. The good kind of weird. He swallowed the knot in his throat and quietly spoke.
"Pat?"
"Mmmm?" he hummed, opening his eyes to look at John.
"What do you think? Does it match the description?"
"No. This was much better." Now that the adrenalin rush was over, Patrick once again started to feel awkward, brushing his bangs back into place, over his left eye.
John felt like he should say something, or do, or anything-
But instead he opted to believe that the moment was over. Back to normal now, please.
"We will never bring it up ever again." He said confidently.
Patrick nodded. "If you do, I'll kill you."
"Fair."
With that, they left the overgrown garden - the only witness to their intimate moment. They walked back out towards the orchard, as suddenly Patrick stopped. John turned to him in confusion and froze, as his glasses were swiftly removed from his face. Then, a quick gentle kiss was placed on his lips and gone just like that. John's face flushed crimson, as he struggled to put his glasses back on.
"Never bringing this up again!" - Patrick said as if his own face wasn't as red as apples in the orchard. "Race you back to the lake!" And with that he took off, laughing at the sound of John's confused screaming.