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The first thing Jonny ever said to Patrick was, "You're fast, but can you score?" He didn't mention Patrick's height once, not even as a jibe.
Patrick's heard it enough over the years that he gets tired of it; that anything addressing his height pisses him off.
The fact that Jonny never brings it up doesn't mean he's completely guilt free of abusing their height difference, and the worst thing about it is that Patrick starts to like it.
---
Jonny got so tired of being kicked, shoved and hit that he solved the problem for them; he spooned up behind Patrick, tangled their legs together and threw a hand over Patrick's stomach. It felt weird, and it didn't solve their problem straight away, but Patrick kind of liked the way he fit alongside Jonny's body.
He always jolts awake to his phone alarm, the sound of it sharp and sudden in the quiet of Jonny's bedroom. He groans, tugs his arm out from under Jonny's and reaches for his phone, shutting off the alarm. True to form, Jonny sleeps through it, because he apparently goes deaf when he's asleep, and Patrick sighs. Jonny's face is pressed into the top of his head; Patrick can feel the breath ruffling his hair, and he's got a tight grip on Patrick's abdomen.
Patrick pretends to get irritated by it, pretends to hate the way Jonny always gets to be the big spoon because he is taller, but Jonny just smirks because he knows—they both know—that Patrick always sinks into it.
He decides they have a little while before they really have to get up to get ready for morning skate, so Patrick thumbs through his phone slowly, relishing the rustle of his hair and the brief flex of Jonny's hand on his stomach as he fidgets in sleep.
He ends up dozing, setting his phone alarm again, and shifting in Jonny's arms until he's got his face pressed into Jonny's chest, his hand on Jonny's hip. He's never going to admit it out loud, but he loves mornings with Jonny, loves the time before they have to move and do shit, and actually start the day. He loves how affectionate Jonny gets, the kisses he'll press to Patrick's head, the feel of his fingers shoving under Patrick's shirt and splayed against his lower back.
"We have to get up," Patrick says, nudging Jonny's chin with his head.
Jonny makes a soft noise but doesn't make any motions to wake up. He strokes Patrick's back a little, buries his nose in Patrick's hair.
Patrick huffs a laugh, shifts back a little, kisses the curve of Jonny's jaw. "Come on, lazy, up.”
Patrick grins, because watching Jonny wake is the best thing. He grumbles and groans for about ten minutes before he'll make any moves to actually roll over.
"Fuck," Jonny moans, tightening his grip on Patrick's waist. His eyes are still closed, the loser, and Patrick rolls his eyes.
"You're such a big baby." Patrick grabs Jonny's wrist and tugs it away from his body, manhandles Jonny until he's straddling his hips, pressing Jonny's hands down on either side of his head. Jonny's awake now, grumpy and irritated, but something in him is interested. Definitely interested.
"It's too early, you fuck."
Patrick snorts, leans down to suck at the curve of Jonny's jaw, teasing the skin between his teeth.
Jonny's groan is different this time. Patrick knows Jonny could probably flip him if he really wanted to, but he seems content enough to let Patrick work at his jaw, to roll his hips up against Patrick slowly. Pulling back, Patrick kisses the dark red mark he's just made. "We gotta get to skate, asshole."
Jonny blinks lazily and fuck, Patrick really wants to stay here and fuck Jonny stupid, but they have places to be.
---
Patrick rolls his eyes and shuts off the water, not bothering to wrap the towel he grabs around his waist as he pads back into the bedroom. Jonny looks like he got socked in the face, but it cuts off his bitching, so Patrick's feeling pretty great about himself. Not so much when Jonny grabs him around the back of his neck and hauls him in. He doesn't lean down, the fucker, but does make a point of pressing up against Patrick, fingers low on Patrick's stomach. God, they're both destined to arrive at morning skate hard at this rate, but Patrick's pretty desperate for a kiss and pushes up on his toes. He's not that much shorter than Jonny, but enough that when Jonny's being an asshole and refuses to close the distance, Patrick has to do it.
Jonny grins against his mouth, and Patrick alternately wants to punch him and keep kissing him stupid. The second wins out, and he curls his fingers into the hair at the nape of Jonny's neck. He likes it when it's long, when Jonny gets what Sharpy likes to call his "Disney Prince hair."
"Dress," Jonny mutters as he pulls away, slapping Patrick's ass as he heads into the shower.
---
(Something kinda permanent, Patrick hopes.)
It's a pretty intense practice, mostly because their tendency towards relaxing is hurting their Cup chances, but Patrick relishes it anyway. He likes the ache after a good practice, knowing that he's put in the effort and that it will pay off when they're playing a game.
He likes when he goes up against Jonny, because he loves the way Jonny throws himself into everything, including stupid practice shots. Despite the fact that Jonny is a giant dork about everything, he takes everything on the ice seriously, but Patrick can admit to himself that he likes the way Jonny gets all intense and focused on something. Kinda like now, when he steals the puck from under Stalberg's nose, and crows in delight because he's a loser.
Patrick snorts and goes after him, uses speed and surprise to bat the puck away from Jonny and shoot for the goal, watching it sail past Crow. He turns around grinning, knowing he probably looks stupid, but throwing up his arms anyway.
Jonny rolls his eyes. "You're an idiot." He slaps his stick against Patrick's knees.
Whatever, Patrick's amazing and Jonny knows it.
Jonny seems to make it a point to steal the puck from Patrick whenever he has it for the rest of practice, looking smug and ridiculous when he does, scowling and narrowing his eyes when he fails. During his sixth attempt at trying to get the puck away from him, Jonny turns at Sharpy's disgusted, "Stop flirting, it's nauseating."
Shawzy mimes throwing up to Sharpy's left, because apparently they're BFFs now.
"Fuck you," Patrick says. "You're just jealous nobody loves you."
"I have a wonderful wife and child at home, thank you," Sharpy shoots back.
Jonny chooses that moment to steal the puck from Patrick, and laugh loudly as he skates backwards, throwing up his arms in the air in a mimicry of Patrick earlier.
"Asshole," Patrick says, but he's pretty sure his tone is ineffective with the way he's grinning.
Sharpy sighs, shaking his head. "Disgusting."
"So's your face," Patrick says, giving Sharpy the finger guns and skating after Jonny. He's not about to let that go.
They play their personal game of keep-away for another couple of minutes, and Patrick's a little surprised that Q hasn't called them on it yet, but he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth. Jonny hugs his back the next time he goes for the puck, hooking an arm around Patrick's neck and fuck, Patrick does not need a third reminder in one day of their difference in height. And yet, his automatic response is to sink into it because whatever, he always likes it on the ice when Jonny throws an arm over his shoulder and pulls him in when they're celebrating a goal.
"Asshole," Patrick says, without heat.
"You love it," Jonny replies, keeping his voice low, but tightening his grip minutely against Patrick's neck. "I got the puck."
Patrick snorts, shoving away from Jonny and rolling his eyes. "You're such a loser, I don't even know why I like you."
"Liar." Jonny slaps him on the ass with his stick this time, and apparently their little game finally attracts Q's attention because he tells them to, "Get the fuck back into line, you two!"
---
If he got his dick out and started jerking it to Jonny's hands on the wheel, that would be inappropriate. The fact that he has to take a moment when they make it to the restaurant is beside the point.
He loves eating out with the guys, even when they're accosted by fans before they get to sit down, because Patrick knows he's only where he is because they continue to come out and support their team, so he signs autographs, smiles for photos, and tries not to stare when Jonny bends down to deal with a kid who's sporting a Toews jersey and a shy smile. Sharpy sidles up next to him, leaning in with a knowing expression on his face. "Your crush is showing."
"Fuck you," Patrick says, low because there are kids around, but he elbows Sharpy in the stomach anyway. "You don't know anything."
"Sure, Peeks." Sharpy throws an arm around his neck and pats his chest. "It's beautiful, young love."
Patrick rolls his eyes. "We're not in love."
"This," Sharpy says, patting Patrick's cheek with his fingers, "says differently."
Whatever. It's not Patrick's fault Jonny is completely ridiculous enough that he somehow makes Patrick's heart do flip flops whenever he's interacting with children. Patrick's pretty sure he's been love potioned or something. It's the only explanation for why he's so completely in love with such a dorky, ridiculous person from Canada. His life is so hard.
During lunch, Jonny is completely unsubtle as he maneuvers his chair closer to Patrick's, drawing raised eyebrows from Seabs and Duncs, but Sharpy just rolls his eyes. Patrick wants to tell Jonny to cut it out, that they may as well wear their relationship around their necks with the way he's behaving. Jonny puts his arm over the back of Patrick's chair anyway, and at some point over the course of their dinner, it slips to Patrick's shoulders, tugging him in.
"What are you doing?" Patrick asks, keeping his voice low.
Jonny affects a look of innocence. "Nothing."
Patrick pinches his thigh. "Cut it out, if you don't want everyone to know, asshole."
The look Jonny gives him makes Patrick's stomach knot. It feels heavy, like this moment has meaning, and he should probably be a little more scared by it than he is. "Are you serious?"
"If you—"
Patrick nods quickly and Jonny cuts himself off with a grin. "Yes."
"Yeah?"
"Yes," Patrick stresses, leaning back into Jonny's arm, kind of liking how he fits underneath it.
Nobody mentions how they're behaving, but whether that's because they don't notice, or because they're choosing not to, Patrick doesn't know. The third option is that they're not behaving any differently, which is only slightly disconcerting.
They stick around in the restaurant long after their plates are clean, shooting the shit and giving Shawzy hell for the amount of times he's tweeted during one dinner.
"I could take a picture of you two," Shawzy says, gesturing at Jonny and Patrick. "Tweet it to my thousands of followers."
"You don't have as many as me," Patrick grins, tipping his head back to look up at Jonny. "I think I should tweet if anyone does."
"Nobody's tweeting anything," Jonny says. He sounds long-suffering, which is fair considering any time his private life ends up anywhere remotely public, he loses his shit, but Patrick knows better. He doesn't suffer anything with Patrick around.
"Well," Shawzy says, a few minutes later. "I may or may not have tweeted a picture of you two anyway."
Jonny frowns. "You didn't even take one!"
Flipping his phone around, Shawzy shows them the picture that he apparently did take and grins. "Tweeted."
Patrick pats Jonny's knee, because he can see Shawzy's about to get a lecture, or maybe a punch in the face. "Don't be afraid of twitter, Jonny."
"Yeah," Sharpy puts in, no doubt about to be unhelpful. "It's not like they'll see you behaving any differently than you normally do."
"Screw you," Jonny snaps, but he relaxes minutely. He's still not going to be happy, and Patrick makes a mental note to make Shawzy's life a living hell for the next forever. "I hate this fucking team."
"Hey," Stals puts in. "I didn't do anything!"
---
"How bad is it?" Jonny asks, because he knows Patrick too well.
"Your worst fears are realized," Patrick says sarcastically, but he's under no illusions that Jonny will read the truth behind it.
"That bad, huh?"
They look—Patrick's sinking into Jonny's arm around his neck, their bodies are way too fucking close to be buddies, and they look like they're a couple.
"We look like we're out on a date." Patrick looks out the window. "Shawzy's an asshole."
Jonny doesn't say anything for a long time. When he does, it's just as they're pulling into his apartment complex. "There are worse pictures of us out there."
Patrick snorts. "Worse quotes, even."
Jonny's smile is a little tight, and it doesn't reach his eyes. "I hate it, but you said—"
"—I was fine, and I am." Patrick shifts in his seat, taps his phone against his leg.
"It's not great," Jonny admits. "And I'll kill Shawzer, but it is what it is." He leans across, rests a hand on Patrick's thigh. "I'm not ashamed of you, Pat."
"You better not be," Patrick says, his voice breaking a little in the middle, but Jonny doesn't even seem to notice with the way he's grinning back at Patrick.
"Get out of the car, asshole."
"Bite me," Patrick says, sweetly.
---
"Pick a channel and stick with it," Patrick says, dropping onto the couch in front of Jonny's legs.
Jonny flicks through more channels just to be a dick, but then settles on some weird documentary about sharks. Patrick rolls his eyes, shoving a bottle at Jonny.
"I settled."
"On sharks." Patrick watches anyway, oddly fascinated. He's startled a little when Jonny reaches up to cup the back of his neck, but turns his head. "What?"
Jonny shrugs, not saying anything, but looking intently at Patrick anyway.
"Ugh, fine," Patrick grouses, shifting on the couch until he's settled between Jonny's legs, leaning back. Jonny immediately rests his chin on Patrick's head, and Patrick pops the cap on his Gatorade, content to watch the sharks.
---
"Make me," Patrick says, wiggling his eyebrows.
Jonny looks incredulous, but he still kisses Patrick, so Patrick counts it as a win. "Get off me, I'm hungry."
Moment ruined. Patrick makes a big production out of rolling off of Jonny and bitching as he stands, but as they're making their way into the kitchen, Jonny slips a hand into the back pocket of Patrick's jeans, and leans down to kiss his neck.
"If I'd known when you said ‘hungry’ you didn't mean food, I wouldn't have moved," Patrick says, arching his neck.
HIs breath hitches as Jonny bites gently at his neck, fingers squeezing Patrick's ass. "Fuck."
Patrick's learned to like some of the ways that their height difference is obvious, but he knows for a fact that the thing Jonny loves best is the way he can crowd Patrick against a wall. He does it now, presses Patrick face-first against the wall, mouth still sucking and licking at the bite mark he made against Patrick's skin. Groaning, Patrick presses his cheek to the wall, hips jerking back a little as Jonny's hand reaches between the wall and Patrick's body to cup his dick through his jeans.
"Fuck, I knew you had a thing about height difference, you asshole," Patrick groans out.
Jonny laughs gently into his ear, before leaning in for an awkward kiss. He turns Patrick around, kicks his legs apart so he can stand between them. "Don't pretend you don't like it."
Patrick tips his head back as Jonny grazes his teeth along the tendons of his neck. He can't deny it; loves the way Jonny forces him on tiptoe, the way Jonny will throw an arm around his shoulders on-ice and off, accentuating their height difference. He loves the way his head tucks under Jonny's chin, the overwhelming feeling of Jonny spooning up behind him. It's the first time in his life he's actually liked that he was shorter than someone, but he doesn't say it out loud.
He thinks from the way Jonny does it all anyway, that he knows all too well.
His suspicions are confirmed when Jonny drags him into the bedroom, presses him down onto the bed and continues to use the height and weight difference he has on Patrick to his advantage. Patrick doesn't even bother to pretend he hates it; he relishes the feel of Jonny's body over his, claws at Jonny's back and moans Jonny's name as he comes, settling only after Jonny's cleaned them both up and spooned up behind him, fingers splayed against Patrick's stomach.
"It's okay," Patrick admits quietly.
Jonny kisses the back of his neck, the curve his smile obvious against Patrick's skin, and he knows that’s Jonny’s way of agreeing that, yeah. It’s more than okay.