Work Text:
Pete had been staring at the pale expanse of Patrick’s neck for a good twenty minutes. Specifically, where it met his ear and the skin was soft and easier to suck on. But then again, all of Patrick’s skin was probably like that.
The thing was, he wanted to give him a hickey. He didn’t know why. He just did. Every part of him was pulsing to just lean forward and /do it/. He also wanted to see Patrick either, A, try and steal his mom's makeup to try and cover it up for yearbook pictures tomorrow, or B, see him get flustered and annoyed. It was a win win.
Pete shrugged and then leaned into his neck, capturing a small amount of flesh between his teeth before he began to suck sweetly on it.
About halfway through, Patrick started making these cute breathy noises and Pete was then positive it was a terrific idea. He pulled away and glanced at the small bulge in Patrick’s boxers. He smirked, laying back down beside him and drifting off.
The next day, Pete woke up with a fluttering feeling in his stomach, the thrill of what was going to happen today. However, when he woke up, Patrick was staring him down, fully dressed.
His eyes instantly drifted to the blooming purple hickey on his pale neck and assumed the look he was getting was because of it.
Patrick huffed, his arms coming up to be crossed over his chest. “We have to leave in ten minutes. Get the fuck up, asshole.” Patrick said, a small blush rising to his cheeks. Pete was a senior this year, whereas Patrick was just a Freshmen. He liked to mock-hate Pete, but he could see through the disguise of course. They were best friends.
He raised an eyebrow at the younger, glancing at the spot again. Had he even looked in a mirror today? It was completely obvious. Patrick yanked the sheets off of him, Pete yelped and instinctively curled into a small ball as the crisp fall air hit him.
“Fucker!” He exclaimed, rolling out of the bed, throwing on the clothes he’d haphazardly thrown into his overnight bag, walking out the door with Patrick, completely unsure as to why he hadn’t mentioned the hickey.
+++
It was the last week of school, and the commons were crammed, yearbooks flying in every direction as they had just been distributed. Pete and Patrick were at their usual spot to the side, along with a few of their other friends. They’d both just received theirs when they hear Gabe wolf whistled, eyes meeting Patrick’s mischievously.
At this point, Pete had completely forgotten about the hickey, and Patrick had remained completely oblivious to every other attempt he made. He took the flowers on Valentines as a joke, shoving them into his locker with a flourish and an eyeroll. Typical. When Pete asked him to homecoming, (Poster and everything! With a great pun!) Patrick thought it was just Pete trying to be a beacon for LGBTQ. Which, well, he was. But that wasn’t the point. They got matching suits and Patrick was blushing the entire time his mom made them pose for photos, whereas Pete had a giant grin plastered on his face the whole time.
Pete also had other things on his mind, such as, “What the ever loving fuck am I going to do now that high school is over?” When he heard Gabe yell out, “Damn Patrick! Who gave you the hickey? Were they really so possessive that you couldn’t cover it up?” He says with a cheeky grin.
Patrick rolled his eyes, obviously thinking he was joking. “I still haven’t gotten my first kiss. You really think I’d have a hickey on my neck?” He counters.
Pete watches the interaction like a tennis match.
“Whatever sweet sixteen and never been kissed. See for yourself. But you /have/ to tell me who it was. Looks like they’re pretty good too…” Gabe trailed off, leaning in closer to the page.
Pete could feel giggles bubbling up inside of him, but he pushed them back down, remaining silent as Patrick picked up his own, cracking the spine of it and flipping to the S’s in the freshmen class. Pete peered over his shoulder.
Patricks face went into a somewhat shocked state. After a few moments he looks back up, already a slight tint of pink.
“Okay, Brendon I know your friends with Ryan and he’s in yearbook. Did you guys get him to photoshop this shit? I swear to god.” Patrick said venomously. He looked pretty pissed. But Pete knew it was just a front for being embarrassed.
Gabe jerked his head back up from the page, asking in somewhat disbelief, “You really don’t know who it was?” Just as Brendon defended himself, saying he didn’t tell Ryan, really. Which Patrick believed, considering they’d just spend the time fucking anyways.
Patrick's brows remained furrowed. “/No/. I don’t. What the fuck?” He asks, shaking his head, eyes wide. Gabe erupted into a loud laugh while Patrick squirmed before asking hesitantly. “Gabe, i-it wasn’t you right?”
Gabe rolled his eyes. “Nope. I would totally own up to one of that grandeur. It’s marvelous.” He responded. Pete internally rolled his eyes. How could he not even suspect him?
Just then, Patrick turned to him. “Pete-”
Pete perked up a little, eager, just as Patrick finished off his words with, “You don’t know who it could’ve been right?” He asks curiously.
Pete craves an external eye roll. “No.” He mumbles into the sleeve of his hoodie.
This goes on for the rest of the day, Patrick making a complete /fool/ of himself. He went through everyone in their friend group and then some. He got desperate. He told Pete it was like trying to find the glass slipper to his prince because someone “Finally, Finally!” Likes him. Pete wanted to punch Patrick in the face.
On the way home, Patrick continued chatting about it excitedly, speculating. Pete barely responded, just shoving his converse into every dirt pile he could find. (A lot).
Patrick finally picked up on his sour behavior and turned to him. “What the hell is your issue, man?” He asked, somewhat exasperated, hands flopping down from their excited gestures to his sides.
Pete paused. He was sick of playing games. He looked Patrick dead in the eyes. “It was me. I did it.”
Patrick swallowed and neither of them said a word for a long while. Pete sighed and continued walking to their houses before Patrick caught onto a part of his backpack and stopped him.
Patrick spoke quietly. “I thought all those times… All those things you did. I thought it was a joke to you. You know? You’re kind of an attention whore and I thought that's all it was. Besides, I have no experience and I’m 3 years younger. I never thought you actually wanted me, Pete. I’m sorry if I upset you, okay?” He said with a hint of hopefulness.
Pete bit at his lip nervously before turning around and placing a steady hand on the small of Patrick’s back, shoving it between the backpack as he urged him closer, kissing the younger gently, trying to give him the best first kiss he could offer. Which, from Patrick’s point of view, was pretty fucking amazing. He clinged to Pete tightly, fisting one of his constant hoodies and keeping his eyes screwed shut, trying to follow Pete’s lead. It turned out to be easier than he thought.
When Pete slipped a hand into his hair, tugging lightly, he pulled away from his surprisingly soft lips. “I-Inside? My parents aren’t home yet.” Patrick murmured breathlessly.
Patrick’s lips were already swollen and red and Pete was so so fucked. Patrick looked so much like an unsure virgin that it hurt. He nodded quickly and held Patrick’s hand, leading him inside his own house, leading them both up to Patrick's room.
For Patrick, this was a weird line to cross.This was his best friend. Even more so, because these were his /firsts/ and they were all happening so rapidly. He wanted Pete to take all of his firsts with open arms. Metaphor is hard when you have a needy Pete on top of you, breathing onto your neck and nipping at the soft skin. He arched his neck back, unsure where to put his hands, so he kept them beside him on the bed, too terrified of doing something wrong.
Pete moaned directly into his ear, causing the Patrick the same reaction as Pete grinded down into him. Now that felt amazing.
“How far? What do you want Trick?” Pete said, nibbling at his earlobe. Patrick could hear every inhale of breath and every time he barely opened or closed his lips when he was pressed so closely and it caused him full body shivers. He brushed off Pete’s words as he experimentally lifted himself up and rubbed against him, quiet moans coming from his mouth. He didn’t know it could feel this good.
Pete groaned at Patrick’s attempt at grinding, it being somewhat sloppy. It was beautiful. He asked what he wanted again, not wanting to pass any lines Patrick wasn’t okay with. Patrick was still kind of terrified of anything going near his ass after this one time with a piece of ginger... so he didn’t ask for it.
Instead, he panted out a rushed and hazy, “I d’n care I just want you to touch me. No fucking though. Yeah.”
That, Pete could do. He started pulling Patrick’s pants down while Patrick laid there, eyes already fucking blissed out. Pete couldn’t wait to eventually fuck him. He tugged the jeans over his ankles easily and slipped his palms under Patrick’s shirt, Patrick chasing after his fingers when they passed by his mouth. Pete groaned, leaning down to kiss him again, trying to coax his mouth open with his tongue. Meanwhile, his free hand he wrapped around the base of Patrick’s length, starting to stroke slowly. He knew he wouldn't last too long if this was his first time doing anything like that.
Patrick broke the kiss with a wet noise, arching his back gracefully and trying to push into Pete’s hand. He also kept up a consistent banter of, “Pete please please please, feels so good- nn-” Pete cursed himself for not corrupting his best friend sooner in the year.
Patrick arched up again breathlessly before spilling into Pete’s hand, whining the whole way through. Pete stroked him through it, grinning. He knew he’d be so cuddly afterward. Patrick had his eyes closed shut, chest still rising and falling heavily. He felt so worn out and it felt amazing.
Pete lifted two fingers to Patrick’s plush bottom lip, pushing them into his mouth so he could taste the cum. Patrick kept his eyes shut as he licked Pete’s fingers clean like a kitten. He mentally checked another thing off of his “Firsts” list.
Pete cuddled up to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Just then, Patrick rubbed his eyes, sitting up.
“You- Here I can finish you off…” Patrick offered sleepily. Pete shook his head. “You look exhausted, and being with you it more than enough to keep me satisfied.”
Pete felt a pillow hit him in the face. “Ouch.” He muttered, muffled by the pillow.
“You don’t get to go all sappy and cliche on me. This is still us. Just… With more. Okay Pete?”
Pete shoved the pillow back at Patrick, smiling.
“Okay, but next time I blow my entire week's allowance on flowers, don’t just shove them into your locker or the nearest trashcan.” Pete said sincerely.
Patrick rolled his eyes, hesitantly placing another kiss on Pete’s lips. “You got it babe.”
Just as Patrick was pulling away again, Pete chucked a pillow at him and knew that this was the best decision he’d ever made.