Chapter Text
“Have you seen my laptop charger?” Patrick yells from the bedroom. It’s a stupid question. Jonny has no intention of moving from the couch to help Patrick pack.
Jonny doesn’t reply until Patrick peeks his head from around the bedroom door, his eyes narrowed and dark, visibly annoyed with Jonny’s lack of effort. Whatever. Patrick made the choice to fly back to Buffalo for Christmas and leave him alone in Chicago.
“I haven’t seen your charger,” Jonny says, and Patrick rolls his eyes.
“You could at least help me look,” Patrick replies with the barest hint of a whine. “You’re the reason I’m gonna miss my flight.”
Jonny snorts, because that is not true.
“Because it was all my idea to wake me up with a morning blow job,” Jonny says, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Except no, that was all you.”
“You looked all hot and shit,” Patrick says, grinning at the memory. “And it’s the last time I’m gonna see you for like, four days. So fucking appreciate it.”
“I appreciated it in the shower,” Jonny says, grinning. “And I don’t know where your fucking charger is. Just stop by your place on the way to the airport.”
“Story of my fucking life lately. Maybe I should just buy two of everything.”
Jonny can’t help but agree; most of Patrick’s shit has migrated back to Jonny’s, but they’re still stopping by Trump Tower at least three times a week to grab something that Patrick “needs”. It would be so much easier if all of his shit was here, and okay, Patrick’s not gonna go for that, but—
But there are still condos available in his building, and taking the elevator would be so much easier than Chicago traffic and the forty minute round trip to Trump Tower.
“Or you could move here,” Jonny says.
Patrick doesn’t say anything. His eyes are round and wide, his mouth hanging open and even if Jonny wasn’t fluent in Patrick Kane, he’d be able to see the terror written all over Patrick’s face.
“Or not,” Jonny says, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. “But it’d save us a ton of time driving through Chicago for all of your shit that you can’t keep in one place, and I know there’s a three bedroom a couple of floors down with a huge ass balcony that you’d like.”
“You mean into the building,” Patrick says. “Not—not in here.”
“I’m pretty sure that if you moved into my condo people would notice,” Jonny says dryly. “Although you pretty much have and no one’s said a word. But yes, into the building. Dumbass.”
“Yeah?” Patrick asks shyly, and Jonny nods. Patrick’s smile is suddenly wide, his cheeks dimpling, and Jonny feels his annoyance at spending Christmas alone slip away. “Okay. Jonathan Toews, I accept your invitation to move into your building. Now will you fucking help me look? I promise we can have not-quite-moving in together sex when I get home.”
“Just take mine,” Jonny says, tilting his head towards where his laptop is propped against the side of the side table. “And I’ll drop you at the airport.”
“You don’t need to,” Patrick says. “I know you don’t want to.”
It’s true; Jonny hates traffic around O’Hare although maybe not as much as the fact that he hates that Patrick’s leaving. But—
“If I drop you we can spend the next five minutes making out,” Jonny says.
Patrick’s smile turns into a leer, and he actually bounces over to the couch. Sometimes Jonny can’t believe that he actually loves this man.
“So romantic, Tazer,” Patrick says, but he’s pressing his lips to Jonny’s anyway, and yeah. This is a much better plan.