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Donnie was never going to heaven.
He understood that, his family understood that, his therapist understood that; hell, she even told Donnie at one point, straight to his face after going through the notebook he kept under his bed that yes, he was definitely going to hell.
Maybe it was the ramblings on how he wanted to murder his family in cold blood, just because they were being a little too loud that day.
Maybe it was all the drawings of Frank, all the drawings of other worlds and gorey scenes.
Maybe it was the paragraphs in which he went into detail about wanting to tear his skin from the bone, swearing on his life that theres something beneath the flesh that shouldn't be there.
Maybe it was all of those combined that signed his ticket to hell.
But Donnie knew, in Patricks bed, some song playing in the background, on the soft sheets as the Australian ground his clothed hips into Donnies; he knew that this was his own slice of heaven. Patrick must've been an angel sent down from the cloud kingdom above, meant to make Donnie envious of all the pure, holy people that were going to be sent there. He just knew it.
And honestly, as he opened his eyes to the sight of Patrick above him, curls spilling from his broad shoulders, pleasure flowing through them simultaneously, it wouldnt be all that crazy to believe.
Those heavenly grunts, the tepid puffs of breath fanning against Donnies flushed cheeks. Yes, Patrick was an angel, which only made Donnie wonder what Patrick saw him as.
A demon? A putrid soul waiting for the devil? A freak? Maybe even a monster?
Donnie would never know, and maybe he didnt want to know. The illusion that Patrick saw him the same, while laughable, filled the broken boy with a feeling that was oh so addictive.
"Donnie?"
Oh fuck, he spaced out again.
"Y-Yeah?"
Patrick panted, then chuckled, "You were starin', thought you fell asleep with your eyes open."
Donnies face flushed a darker shade of pink, though this time with embarrassment, "N-no it's just..."
I'm so in love with you it makes my chest hurt.
"...We should really take off our pants."
"Oh! Heh, yeah that'd probably feel a lot better, eh?" Patrick chuckled, leaving Donnie breathless. God, his eyes were so pretty.
The Australian pulled back onto his knees, clumsy hands pulling at the string that held his sweats together. Donnie had to restrain himself from biting his lip when Patrick, almost teasingly slow, slipped his pants off his slim hips.
Maybe just one touch wouldnt hurt...
Without a second thought, Donnie reached out and wrapped a hand around Pats hip, feeling the bone beneath his thumb. The heat from his skin seeped into Donnies own, and vaguely, he thought of it as Patrick's good-ness slipping into Donnies being.
"Ooh, finally gettin' confident, huh?" Patrick teased, an eyebrow quirking slightly. Donnie smiled a little and sat up, "Maybe a little."
Finally Donnie let his hands explore the skin he was so afraid to tarnish, as if one single touch would wither it all away. He ran his palm across Patricks side, up to his abdomen, savoring the clench of Patricks stomach muscles.
"You're really soft. Fuck." With a bite of his lip, Donnie dove into Patricks neck and connected his lips to the soft, warm, freckled skin.
Fingers dug into Donnies back as he continued his attack, Patricks head flung backwards, curls bouncing, just as his hips ground up, a soft growl leaving his lips. It was then that Donnie decided, fuck it, he couldnt wait for them to lay back down; he needed release now.
Donnie shoved both of their underwear down, pulling away from Patricks neck to look down at what he was doing, and letting out a soft 'fuck' at the sight of Patricks erection. Slightly red, leaking, fuck Donnie needed to cum quickly.
"Uh, shit, you got lube?" Donnie huffed, Patrick nodded, eyes half lidded with his pupils wide as dinner plates, "Yeah, in my dresser, bottom drawer."
Donnie looked over at the dressure, it was too far away to reach without asking Patrick to get off of his lap, so fuck that plan.
"Too far, spit will be fine." Donnie grumbled and immediately spat a glob of spit on his palm, which made Patrick laugh, that perfect freckled nose scrunching up, "Jesus Donnie, whats gotten into ya' today?"
Donnie didnt respond, just brought his forehead to Patricks and gripped both their erections in his hand. They both hissed at the contact.
He began pumping, thigh muscles twitching at the stimulus. Donnie looked away and into Patricks eyes, which were locked onto Donnies no doubt sweaty face.
It was his own hand, but somehow it was different from masturbating. Patrick was here, not just a thought in Donnies head, Donnie could dig his fingers into Patricks hip, and admire the bruises that would form when the boy undressed in Gym class. Or when his shirt would ride up when reaching for something in Art.
It was so intimate, being so close, sharing the same warm air. The only sounds being their rushed breaths, choked off moans and the slick sound of Donnie jerking them off.
This. This was heaven.
Patricks hair was in his face, tickling at Donnies forehead, but that didnt matter. Pleasure fogged both their heads, the only thing that mattered was this moment. The world beyond that room could go fuck itself and jump off a cliff.
Patricks fingers dug into his spine, fingernails would've scratched into his skin had he taken his shirt off. Donnie felt a moan crawling up his throat, so he silenced it by pressing his wetted lips to Patricks. Patrick in turn, slipped his tongue in between them. A hot rush of mind melting pleasure filled Donnies bones.
The feel of skin against skin, tongue to tongue, the wet noises of their love filling Donnies mind. It was all too much. With a groan and a twist of his hand, Donnie came. Spurts of hot cum covering both of their laps. It seemed that when Patrick realized what happened, he followed quickly. Biting down on Donnies plush lower lip.
After a few minutes of being slumpt against eachother, panting, Donnie finally pulled back and leaned back on his hands. Patrick brought a hand up to pull his hair away from his face, a few strands still stuck to the sweat slick skin.
"After we get cleaned up, wanna smoke a bowl?"
"God, I fucking love you, dude."