Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Jonny?” Patrick sticks his head around the door, glancing into the empty locker room. Jonny’s not there, but his hockey bag is in front of his locker, half of it spilled out onto the floor. Patrick sighs and starts shoving everything in, wincing at the smell. Such a slob, Patrick thinks fondly. He’s definitely going to give Jonny hell about it. When he finds him.

Patrick’s zipping the bag shut when he hears someone talking in the showers. “Tazer? Jonny?” No one answers, and Patrick frowns, unsure whether he should check on him. He’s got no business going into the showers to find Jonny; he’s avoided anything involving Jonny and showers and being wet and… Patrick swallows dryly at the memory of Jonny standing in the shower, his body firm and tanned, water sluicing over the perfect curves of his ass. Patrick had immediately popped a boner that was so fierce, he’d had to jerk off in the bathroom, the meat of his palm stuffed in his mouth to keep him from whimpering. He’d come so hard, he’d knocked his head against the door of the stall, nearly concussing himself.

So, yeah, he doesn’t go into the showers when Jonny’s there. But since Jonny’s his ride home, and he’s hungry and tired, he’s just gonna have to suck it up and drag him out.

When he turns the corner, he sees Jonny -- clothed, thankfully - standing next to TJ. Well, not standing next to TJ so much as pressed against him, their mouths fused together. TJ’s hand is cupping Jonny’s face, moving up into his hair as his body sways forward. Jonny’s hand is on TJ’s waist, the fabric of his shirt bunched in his fist.

Patrick’s breath catches and he freezes, but he must make a noise - he hopes it’s not a whimper - because they break apart, Jonny’s eyes swiftly meeting Patrick’s. Jonny’s blushing furiously, his neck blotchy and red, and even TJ has the grace to shift his feet, looking guilty, the dick. Patrick blinks at them, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly as he tries to get something out. Tries to make his feet move and take him away before he does something humiliating like bursting into tears or trying to fight TJ. He's been resisting the urge to punch TJ since they were kids. Now would not be the time to finally follow through on it.

“Pat-” Jonny starts, breaking off when Patrick lifts his hands. He hopes Jonny can’t see that they’re shaking.

“No, uh, sorry, I didn’t - you’re - since when are you guys? - I mean…” Patrick swallows down a breath that threatens to turn into a sob. “I didn’t know. Sorry. I’ll just - tomorrow? So - Yeah. Okay.”

Patrick’s almost reached the school doors when Jonny catches up with him. “Pat - Patrick!” Jonny calls, grabbing Patrick’s arm when he opens the door. “Patrick, wait - “

Patrick closes his eyes and makes himself turn around. He keeps his eyes firmly on a spot over Jonny’s shoulder. “No, man, sorry, I just - I have a, uh. A family dinner. My dad. My dad wants us all…” Patrick trails off, unable to come up with a way to finish the sentence, so he settles for, “home. And. So. I gotta go.” He turns back towards the door, but Jonny doesn’t let go of his arm. “Jonny-”

“Wait, I can take you, I’m just - “

“Don’t you have to take your boyfriend home?” Patrick spits out the word; it tastes foul in his mouth.

“He’s not - you don’t - just, please, wait? I need - can you just wait? I’ll drive you - I want to drive you - I just need to grab my backpack and the hockey bag, okay?”

Patrick darts a glance at Jonny, whose eyes are a mixture of pleading and scared. Patrick should say no, should just go home, leave Jonny and his - his whatever TJ is, but Patrick’s never been able to say no to anything Jonny asks of him, not for years.

“Fine,” Patrick sighs finally, “but hurry the fuck up.” Jonny nods and takes off back to the locker room.

***

Patrick met Jonny at a mini-mite hockey clinic when they were five, fighting over a puck. They’d almost gotten into a real fight, in the lobby afterwards, and their dads had taken them to Baskin-Robbins where they’d argued over the best flavor - because who picks vanilla, honestly; practically all the other flavors are made with vanilla, Jonathan, you’re so dumb - all the way through their eating their cones, until they’d looked at each other and realized how much fun they were having. And they were inseparable from that day on.

They’d had to wait until ninth grade to go to the same school, but it hadn’t mattered; their houses were within walking distance, so they spent practically every day together after school. And between that and hockey, and baseball, and basketball, and soccer, they’d spent all their non-school time together. In seventh grade they were spending so much time together that Patrick’s parents insisted on sending him to camp for a month in the summer, telling him that he needed to spend some time away from Jonny to learn how to make “other friends.”

Patrick had scoffed and pleaded and sulked, but they wouldn’t budge, so he’d left, petrified that when he returned, Jonny would have found a new best friend, someone else to hang out with, someone cooler, taller, with better hair. So he’d written Jonny a bunch of postcards, being as funny as possible, just to make sure Jonny didn’t forget him.

And when his dad came to pick him up, Jonny’d been in the front seat, bounding out of the car before he’d even put it in park. Jonny had grabbed Patrick and lifted him off the ground; somehow Jonny was even taller and stronger than when Patrick left for camp, and all he could do was cling to Jonny, his feet swinging a little, breathing in Jonny’s scent, a little sweat, a little detergent, and a little like the wax Jonny liked to use on his hockey stick.

“Missed you,” Jonny said finally after putting Patrick down. He swiped at his eyes and Patrick had to look away, pointing at the lake so he wouldn’t look at Jonny and start actual bawling. They stood there, silently, jaws working, for a long moment until Patrick’s dad whistled from where he’d been loading Patrick’s stuff into the car.

“Buzz! Nice to see you, too, but let’s get this road on the show!” Tiki had hugged Patrick and ruffled his hair before kissing him on the cheek.

“Dad,” Patrick groaned, wiping his face. “Jeez.”

“Sorry, Mr. Kane,” Jonny called. “Patrick was just pointing out some stuff about the camp.”

“Suck up,” Patrick coughed into his hand. Jonny punched him in the arm hard enough that Patrick stumbled several steps to the side.

“Ouch, jeez, that really hurt.” Patrick whined, making a face and rubbing his arm.

“Because you’re a shrimp,” Jonny agreed, nodding. “Didn’t they feed you? I think you’re actually shorter than when you left.”

“Fu-shut up, Toes,” Patrick said, glancing at his father, who just rolled his eyes and climbed into the front seat and started the car. “Fuck off,” Patrick mouthed at Jonny over the trunk of the car. Jonny stuck his tongue out at Patrick before they both started grinning at each other again. They jumped when the car horn rang out.

“Boys!” Patrick’s father looked out the open window at them. “Get in. Now.”

When they were in the car, filling each other in on their month apart, chirping and jostling each other, their conversation jumping around subjects and off on tangents so often and so quickly it was like they’d never been apart, Patrick couldn’t keep his grin under control. And judging by the answering one on Jonny’s face, neither could he. And looking back on it, Patrick thinks he fell in love with Jonny that day. And even though they’d been apart for a good piece of it, that had been the best summer, because Patrick had realized that he and Jonny were forever.

But unfortunately that was also the summer Jonny had met TJ, and TJ was the worst.

No, the actual worst.

And now he’d kissed Patrick’s - Patrick’s - he wasn’t sure what, but Jonny was just Patrick’s, and fuck TJ.

***

Jonny’s out in less than five minutes, and Patrick follows him out to his truck. Jonny starts the engine but leaves it idling. Patrick waits but when Jonny doesn’t put the car in gear, he looks over at him impatiently. “Come the fuck on, man, I need to get home.”

“Pat,” Jonny says, looks over, biting his lip. “I want to - I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, you should be,” Patrick says sharply. “I mean - I don’t really like TJ,” - which is a lie, he despises TJ and had even before this, a hate that’s reached nuclear levels after witnessing him kissing Jonny - “but you didn’t have to hide it from me.” Patrick shrugs, looking down at his hands. “I wouldn’t have cared.” It’s another lie, one Patrick’s gonna have to get used to telling.

“You - I think you do care,” Jonny says urgently, grabbing Patrick’s arm and shaking him a little when Patrick just shrugs without looking over. “Patrick. Do you care?”

“Of course I care,” Patrick explodes, his voice echoing in the car, making Jonny flinch when he wrenches his arm out of his grip. “What the fuck, Jonny, I’m supposed to be your best friend! And I, when I came out to you last year, you just - you didn’t - why didn’t you say something then?” The last words come out plaintively, and Patrick cringes a little, shrinking down into his seat. “I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.”

“I…” Jonny gulps, his throat working. “I was afraid.”

“Af- of what?” Patrick asks, incredulous. “Of - of me? But-”

“No!” Jonny says tightly. “Of - that you might not want. Uh. You didn’t say. I. If you.” His cheeks flare with color again. “Me.”

“You?” Patrick shakes his head, trying to make sense of Jonny’s words, pushing down the flare of hope in his gut. “You what? I didn’t say what? Words, Jonny. Sentences. Try them, they’re your friends.”

“Ugh,” Jonny says, banging his head against the headrest. “You’re such a pain in the ass. Jesus, why do I even like you.” He darts a glance at Patrick, his eyes shocked. “Um.”

“You -,” Patrick breathes. “You like me.”

“I - yeah,” Jonny says, peeking at Patrick again. “I like you.”

Patrick frowns. “Like a buddy, you mean?” He can’t dare to hope that this means what he thinks this means. And yet, the way Jonny’s looking at him, embarrassed and hopeful and annoyed; it’s making Patrick think things. Things that are dangerous and enticing and filled with potential heartbreak. “As a friend, right?”

“Not as a buddy, or. Not just as a buddy?” Jonny shrugs.

He’s usually pretty good at reading Jonny, so he swallows his pride and presses. “Jonny. Do you like me? Like me like me? Or do you just like me? Because I already know that.”

“I like you.” His eyes intent and serious and locked on Patrick’s. “I really like you. Not just as a buddy.”

“But,” Patrick looks down into his lap. “You were kissing TJ.”

“Yeah, but that was for you-,” Jonny breaks off when Patrick snorts. “I was!”

“How is kissing TJ for me? Unless - you kinky fuck, are you Polynesian?”

“I’m - no! Jesus. And it’s polyamorous, idiot.” Jonny’s wearing the half fond, half scandalized expression he often gets around Patrick. “But no, I’m not polyamorous. Or Polynesian.”

“Ha ha.” Patrick says, dismissing Jonny’s derision. “So if you like me, and you don’t like TJ?” Jonny shakes his head, looking guilty but firm. “Then why the fuck were you kissing TJ, and not kissing me?”

“I knew you were there,” Jonny admits, dropping his gaze down to his lap. “And I wasn’t sure how to tell you that I like you. So, you know, TJ suggested it.”

“Of fucking course TJ suggested it, he’s been after you forever,” Patrick snaps. “Asshole.”

“Honestly, Patrick, I don’t know why you hate TJ. And he was just trying to help.” Patrick glares at Jonny until he sighs and goes on. “Anyway, he said if you caught us kissing, you’d know I’m bi and maybe be jealous, and then - actually, I’m not sure what then. We hadn’t gotten to that part when he heard you and grabbed me.”

“Ugh,” Patrick rubs his forehead. “Whatever, so you wanted me to know you were gay-”

“Bi,” Jonny interrupts. “I’m - I think I’m bi.”

“Okay, bi,” Patrick says, smiling a little at Jonny, reassuring, so he knows that even with all this bullshit, Patrick gets how important it is for Jonny to tell him. “And you, what, you like me? Since when?”

“A long fucking time, Pat. Forever, I think. And then you - ever since you broke up with Sam, I just. I wanted to tell you. Hell, I wanted to tell you back when you came out. I just.” Jonny shrugs, unsure. “You said it didn’t mean anything had to change between us, and that I didn’t need to worry about you, like, coming on to me or anything. So I figured, you know, you weren’t interested in me, and I’d just get over you.”

“But you didn’t?” Patrick holds his breath, because for all Jonny’s been saying that kissing TJ didn’t mean anything, he just. He needs to hear it. He needs Jonny to say it. “You still - you like me?” His voice cracks embarrassingly at the end, but he swallows and makes himself watch Jonny as he slides closer and takes Patrick’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

“No,” Jonny says. “No, I didn’t get over you, and yes, I like you, and god, Patrick, I want - do you - do you want to go out? On a date, I mean. With me?”

“I-,” Patrick has to swallow around his suddenly thick tongue. “Yeah, Jon. I really want to. I really fucking want to. And I like you, too. I have, shit, man, it’s been, like. Forever. Idiot.”

“Yeah?” Jonny’s smile splits his face, as much as Jonny’s smile ever splits his face. Why Patrick loves this asshole with his ridiculously huge ass and doofy face is beyond him.

But love him, Patrick does.

“Yeah,” Patrick smirks at him. “Duh.”

“Duh,” Jonny responds, because he’s that big of a dork. He’s leaning in to kiss Patrick when Patrick puts a hand up on his chest to hold him back. Jonny’s eyes open, comically crossed, and narrow into a grumpy expression.

“What?”

“You really think I’m gonna kiss you when you’ve got TJ Broshie all over your mouth? No fucking thank you, dude.” Patrick’s not done punishing Jonny for the whole kissing TJ thing - an image he’s gonna need bleach to get out of his brain - and even though he’s dying to kiss Jonny, he’s not giving in that easily. “Kissing TJ Oshie for fuck’s sake. What even.”

Jonny rolls his eyes and squeezes Patrick closer until their lips are barely apart. When Patrick turns his head away, Jonny slides his lips along his jawline, kissing it softly.

“Patrick,” Jonny murmurs against Patrick’s skin, making him shiver and his arms relax a little. “Kiss me, come on.” He kisses behind Patrick’s ear, and noses into his hair, rubbing his nose against the curls there. “Please?”

“Still can’t believe you kissed TJ,” Patrick grumbles, but Jonny knows he’s giving in.

“Stop talking about TJ when I’m about to kiss you, asshole,” Jonny says against the side of Patrick’s mouth, and Patrick pulls back a little to put some distance between them. But not far, because Jonny’s hands are holding Patrick’s face, and he’s looking at him so intently, his eyes dark and serious. “Patrick?”

“Okay,” Patrick says, giving up the pretense of resistance. He’ll just kiss TJ off Jonny’s lips. He grabs Jonny’s wrists and squeezes. “Yeah, Jonny. Kiss me?”

He keeps his eyes open until Jonny’s face is blurry and he’s going crosseyed, and just as his eyes drift shut, Jonny’s lips meet his, and it’s so perfect, it makes Patrick’s stomach heat and his eyes prickle. His skin is covered with goosebumps, contrasted by the warmth he can feel spreading from his belly out. He loses himself in the slow, deep kisses, sighing when Jonny finally pulls back.

“Wow,” Jonny says, breathing harshly, and Patrick nods, licking his lips, which are wet and tingling. Jonny’s eyes drop immediately to them and Patrick licks them again, involuntarily.

“Yeah,” Patrick says, but it comes out choked and hoarse, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Yeah, that was… good.”

“Good,” Jonny grins. “Fuck you, that was a lot better than good. Maybe if you’d participated a little more, instead of making me do all the work. As usual.”

“As usual!” Patrick rears back. “Some gratitude. See if I ever kiss you again-”

“Shut up, Patrick,” Jonny says, pulling Patrick close. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” Patrick says, pulling a little on the hair at the nape of Jonny’s neck.

Jonny’s eyes narrow and he dives in again. Patrick stifles a laugh. That’s his Jonny, always rising to a challenge.

And Patrick’s always going to be there beside him.