The problem with roller derby as a sport was that it was full of assholes, as far as Pat could tell. That was the only possible explanation for the way Jonny and the rest of the Blackshocks were laughing at the reveal of Pat's super awesome new derby name at their first practice of the season.
Pat pulled out her best wounded-puppy eyes and stared sadly at Jonny until most of the laughter was over. Jonny kept smiling smugly, ignoring Pat. Pat decided to ignore Jonny in return, and addressed Sharpy indignantly: "I don't know why you're laughing!"
Sharpy could generally be depended on to actually feel sorry for Pat when everyone else was being mean to her. It was the power of their shared name, Pat thought.
Sharpy looked like she felt a little bad about the laughter, but it wasn't anywhere near bad enough to appease Pat's hurt feelings.
"It's just," Sharpy started, then paused for another chuckle. Pat took back every nice thing she'd ever said about Sharpy. She was as big a tool as Jonny. "It's just that it is an improvement, but only because Pattyskates was the worst junior derby name in league history."
"It was not, Sharp Skater," Pat replied scathingly. At the very least, she and Sharpy were tied for worst junior derby name, though, she had to admit that. Silently. To herself.
Sharpy grabbed Pat in a headlock. "You’re just sad that you can’t have a name as amazing as the Great White Sharp, aren’t you, Peeks?"
Pat twisted in Sharpy’s arms uselessly. "Let me go, loser! Your derby name is dumb and so’s your face."
"I like it," Andy said, giving Pat a little hip nudge as she broke free from Sharpy’s hold. "It's like a stripper name, but way more badass! Classic roller derby."
"Thanks, Andy. See, some people understand my brilliance." Pat directed her parting shot at Jonny, then turned to leave the locker room to warm up for practice, letting everyone see the awesome new name on the back of her jersey.
Whatever, like Peek-a-Bruiser wasn't the most awesome name in derby history? Ungrateful jerks - she’d turned the awful nickname she’d been saddled with as a rookie into something cool, and they could all suck it if they didn’t like it. Pat was glad she hadn’t mentioned her back-up name, though, because she was pretty sure "Candy Kane Crush" would have earned her even more ridicule.
She had met Jonny when they were both thirteen and playing on separate teams in the same derby brats league. Pat couldn't accurately remember how she and Jonny had overcome the natural rivalry of their teams to become friends, but she could remember exactly the first time she'd seen Jonny, in the locker room before her first bout. Pat had been so excited about finally getting a chance to play in a real bout that she hadn’t been able to focus on anything beyond getting her gear on, until Jonny walked into the room and grabbed her immediate attention just by existing.
Jonny had been a serious kid, even then, whose ripped fishnets looked as though she'd measured the distance between tears, and whose strategically placed patches on her jacket made Pat want to go over and mess them up, make Jonny look less perfect. Jonny looked back at Pat, and something had flared in her eyes before she told Pat, with her stupid smug Canadian accent, that her laces were untied and she was going to trip and die that way if she wasn't careful.
Pat had been kept from answering (a fact that probably saved their friendship before it even began) by their respective teammates pulling them away from each other and eventually out onto the rink.
At the end of their first bout, Jonny was flushed and sweating, but still perfect. Pat wanted to wipe the smirk off her face even though she was also completely overwhelmed by how good Jonny was, how she'd almost singlehandedly won the bout for her team. When they both got picked by the Blackshocks once they were old enough for the adult league, Pat knew they were going to do amazing things together.
But Pat had never really gotten over the urge to mess Jonny up.
"Are you sure you don’t want to come over and watch something instead?" Jonny asked. Her cheeks were still red from skating, and Pat carefully kept her eyes on Jonny’s face. Jonny was lethally attractive at the best of times, and when she was still breathing hard from practice and wearing tiny gym shorts, Pat basically had no defenses against her. The only person with thighs as sculpted and distracting as Jonny’s was Hilary, but Pat was unreasonable enough about Jonny’s... everything that she barely noticed Hilary at all anymore. Which was, of course, exactly why Jonny's laughter from earlier still stung.
"I’ve got to give Biscuit my moral support," Pat replied. "She’s finally gonna ask him tonight, I know it."
Jonny huffed a disbelieving laugh, which Pat couldn’t really blame her for, since Brenna had been saying she was going to ask the guy out for weeks, and had never actually done it. Her usual excuse was something about how it wasn’t wise to try and date the guy who kept her supplied with drinks, but Pat was pretty sure that was a flimsy cover for nerves. Duncan was an actual buddy to the whole team at this point.
"You could come with," Pat suggested, because even when she tried, she had trouble staying mad at Jonny. She knew what Jonny’s answer would be before Jonny even opened her mouth, though.
"I’ve got an early day at work tomorrow," Jonny said, her voice sounding slightly off. "I guess I’ll see you later."
"For sure," Pat said, trying to break the weirdness between them. She could count on both hands the number of times Jonny had been tentative about anything, and it felt so wrong that she just blinked helplessly at Jonny and wished she could think of a way to get them back to normal.
"Yeah," Jonny said, then went back to her locker. Pat made her escape. The last thing she needed today was to torture herself by deliberately not watching Jonny get dressed right in front of her.
At the bar, Abby had secured a booth and was waiting for them. "I’m done being nice," she said to Brenna as soon as they were within hearing range. "You’re either going to ask him out tonight, or I’m going to dump beer on you every time you look at him longingly."
"What?" Brenna protested. "Come on, I have to work my way up to it."
"You’ve been working your way up to it for a year," Sharpy put in as she sat next to Abby. "I’ve never seen you hesitate like this."
Pat pulled Brenna back before she could slide into the booth. "Go get us the first round," she said. "And don’t come back without a date."
"See if I keep Nealer from knocking you over twelve times during our next game against the Painguins," Brenna muttered. She went to the bar, though, so Pat was counting that as a victory. Besides, Pat could handle Nealer without any help.
Pat sat down next to Andy and turned to watch Brenna’s progress. It probably wasn’t subtle, the four of them staring holes into Brenna’s back, but Pat wasn’t about to miss the culmination of many, many drunken nights.
"I wish we could hear them," Andy said.
"Eh, as long as we see it happen I’ll be satisfied," Sharpy said. "You’re a brilliant person, Abs."
Abby smiled, knocking her shoulder against Sharpy’s. "And you don’t deserve me?"
"Definitely not," Pat said, which earned her twin glares from both Abby and Sharpy. "What?" she protested. "I answered honestly, and if you two want to perform some sort of gross married person flirting, you have a house in which to do that without making the rest of us sick."
"You’re just jealous," Andy said. "You know, because Jonny - " Andy cut herself off abruptly, wincing like she’d been kicked.
Pat turned a suspicious look on Sharpy. "Have you been telling the rookies lies about me again?"
"I would never," Sharpy said, hand on her heart. Abby stifled a giggle, and Pat frowned harder.
"Or let Marian tell the rookies lies about me, same difference!"
Sharpy smiled, the toothy grin that made her current derby name so apt, and shrugged. "Peeks, I can’t be held responsible for what other people tell the rookies. If you want to stop the gossip, you just need to give them the truth."
"The truth is that I am entitled to my privacy," Pat said, turning to make sure Andy got the point.
Andy opened her mouth to protest, but Pat had had enough for one night. "And if my privacy isn’t respected, I will knock some respect into you. Or have Brenna knock some respect into you, whatever."
"I - " Andy started, but Abby hushed them all, pointing frantically toward Brenna.
"Oh my god, I think she did it," Abby whispered, and they all turned to watch Brenna. She was leaning against the end of the bar, smiling at Duncan and generally looking pretty happy. This was confirmed when they swapped phones for a moment. Brenna said something as she tucked her phone back into her pocket, and then turned to walk back to the table. Sharpy and Abby slow-clapped her the whole way, which Brenna pretended to ignore.
"Nice," Andy said, holding out her hand for a fistbump. Brenna met it with her own fist, but before she could sit down, Pat stood up and slid out of the booth.
"I gotta go," she said, letting Brenna take her spot. "Some of us have to work tomorrow, and now that my job as moral support is done, I should get home."
Sharpy gave her a knowing look, but everyone else just said goodbye, and Pat gave Brenna a congratulatory hug before making her escape.
Jonny showed up on Pat's doorstep the next evening with apology beer and sushi from their favorite restaurant. Pat considered forgiving her entirely, but she couldn't let Jonny get away with too much, or she'd get an even bigger ego. Pat felt it was her mission in life to keep Jonny humble, after all. Of course, that was pretty hard to stick to when she was just relieved that Jonny seemed to be over the awkwardness of their last conversation, but she gave it her best shot.
"You're half-forgiven," she said generously. "Maybe you can earn the other half by losing miserably at Mario Kart."
Jonny shot an unimpressed look at Pat and stepped into Pat's apartment, closing the door behind her. "Who said I was apologizing?"
"Your non-microbrew beer?" Pat said, as if Jonny didn't know that already. She wouldn't admit it, but she knew it, and she knew Pat knew it, too.
Jonny dropped her bundles on the kitchen counter. "You want this shitty beer?" she asked, a familiar determined look in her eye, which Pat knew meant that any argument would basically be daring Jonny to decide they shouldn’t be drinking at all on a weeknight.
Pat nodded and kept her mouth shut.
"Then maybe you better shut up about apologies," Jonny said, which really meant I'm so sorry, Pat, you make my life worth living and your new derby name is the coolest. Well, possibly Jonny would never say "the coolest," but the sentiment was still the same.
Pat sniffed, and handed the bottle opener to Jonny, who opened two beers and gave one to Pat. They clinked their bottles together, and split up the sushi onto separate plates before heading to the living room.
They ate while watching an awful Discovery channel documentary on some kind of killer insect, made bearable for Pat only through long term previous exposure to Jonny’s strange viewing habits. They didn’t talk about anything important, but that wasn’t really the point. The best thing about being Jonny's best friend was not having to talk about feelings while simultaneously knowing that she was about three thousand times better at feelings than Jonny, so Pat let herself forget about making Jonny work for it and just enjoyed being with her. The awkwardness of the day before didn’t make an appearance at all.
When it got late enough that Jonny started complaining about work the next day, Pat pretended to throw Jonny out for her own good. Jonny went, but turned back with another strange look on her face before Pat could close the door behind her.
"I do like your name," she mumbled. Pat blinked. That was … shockingly honest.
Pat watched in fascination as Jonny flushed a blotchy red in patches all over her face.
"Jonny," she gasped, a hand over her heart. "Did you – did you have a feeling, a positive feeling about me? Should I call the doctor?"
Jonny relaxed at the familiar taunting, her eyebrows scrunching up in mock anger. "Whatever, Pattycakes. See you tomorrow."
"Don't call me that, Toes!"
Jonny gave her the finger before disappearing around the corner, and Pat went inside to call her sisters. Jonny had had a feeling, and it was a nice one about Pat, and she told Pat about it directly. That, plus the odd behavior from last night, clearly required all four of the Kane sisters to figure out, and Pat didn't care that it was currently midnight in Buffalo.
Unfortunately, Erica did care that it was midnight.
"What the fuck, Patricia?" she growled into the phone. She was much less cool now that she was a grown-up with a grown-up job. "Are you dying? Is Jonny dying? If your answer is anything but yes, you'd better just hang up right now."
"Um," Pat said. Erica hung up, and Pat resigned herself to obnoxious mass texting until she could talk them all into a Skype call.
Jonny was nice 2 me??? she sent. what does it meeaaaaannnn???
Only Jackie had replied before Pat finally made herself go to sleep: means its a fuckin day ending in y stupid go 2 sleep.
So much for familial bonds.
In the morning, Pat felt much clearer about things as she got ready for work. The problem with being in love with your mostly straight best friend, especially for as long as she'd been in love with Jonny, was that it got hard not to read into every little thing that happened and assign it a meaning that reality couldn't support. Pat didn't always notice herself doing it in time, but she could usually get it corralled quickly enough once she figured out that it was happening. Again.
Jess had texted while Pat was in the shower. Jonny is your best friend, she likes you. It's Stockholm syndrome, but she likes you. RELAX!
ur my fave <3, Pat replied, ignoring the Stockholm syndrome comment. She could always count on Jess to be rational about Jonny, which was good, because she couldn't be rational about Jonny to save her life. This would pass, just like every strange patch in her friendship with Jonny had passed, and they’d be fine.
Well, as long as Jonny didn’t find someone to date, because Pat could admit to herself that she wasn’t ready for that. She had to start preparing herself for it, though. Jonny had been single an unusually long time since her last (final) split with T.J., and it probably wouldn’t last much longer. With that depressing thought, Pat headed to the hospital. Hopefully a long day of playing with babies would lift her mood - she was currently doing a rotation in the maternity ward and enjoying it way more than she would have thought.
She didn’t agree that winning required two practices a week, but Jonny and Coach Q were a united force that couldn’t be broken, so they all showed up every Monday and Wednesday. Wednesday practices were much rowdier than Monday practices, however, because most of the team was on Pat’s side and figured that Mondays were enough when it came to serious practicing.
The Brandys were currently playing keepaway with Andy’s helmet, skating around her and laughing, while Marian and Crow were engaged in what looked like a contest to see who could perform the most splits in five minutes without taking off their skates. Pat was doing her best to look like she was stretching, but she was also trying to make Sharpy snort water through her nose by telling dirty knock-knock jokes.
Jonny and Coach Q were going over the plans for the day over in the corner, which was the only reason the rest of them were all getting away with their goofing around. When the conversation was over, Jonny whirled around to face the team, glaring at everyone.
"Alright, slackers," she yelled. "It’s time to get to work! Bollig, Saad, give Shaw back her damn helmet. We’re going to run passing drills until someone collapses or you all start behaving, whichever happens first."
Brenna shared an affronted look with Pat. They had been behaving for the most part, but Jonny didn’t seem to care. She pushed Brenna lightly, shoving her on the track. "Go get in line, Biscuit," she barked.
"You gonna yell at me now?" Pat said, smiling brightly. She knew she was being a bit of a brat, but Jonny would probably have a nice, personalized lecture for her, and to be honest, Pat was kind of looking forward to it. Jonny yelling always made her better, and it was … soothing, for lack of a better word. Pat was just trying really hard to not even acknowledge to herself that Jonny’s lectures kind of turned her on.
"You’re good, Peeks," Jonny said. "Go skate circles around everyone, eh?"
Pat fell flat on her ass in surprise. So much for Jonny being back to normal.
By the time Thursday rolled around, Pat was well on her way to homicidal. Jonny just – just wouldn't stop doing things that were making it really hard to remember that they were just friends. She had spent all of the rest of the practice the night before complimenting everything Pat did, which was seriously disorienting, not to mention unhelpful. Pat relied on Jonny’s critical feedback to point out the blind spots Pat knew she had, and she did the same for Jonny. They'd worked like that ever since their first year with the Blackshocks, and Pat didn't see why Jonny would want to change things now.
Then, when Pat's shift was over and she'd changed into her ratty workout clothes, Jonny showed up outside the hospital to give her a ride to the gym. The last time Pat had asked for a ride anywhere less than three miles away, Jonny had said she needed the conditioning and should jog. The gym was only a twenty minute walk, so Pat assumed Jonny must have had an ulterior motive for this unprecedented behavior, but she just said "Don't overwork yourself, we've got a game Saturday," squeezed Pat's knee, and drove off.
Pat spent her entire workout feeling a warm, confused glow, like Jonny was still watching her with that proud look on her face that she usually tried to hide from Pat. It only really appeared during games, when Pat flew through the pack with particular grace, or managed to avoid a big hit. Pat always felt like she hadn’t played well unless Jonny looked at her like that, and it was absolutely unfair of Jonny to spring it on her outside of a game. It was worse than the compliments. Pat was going to forget they were just friends at a crucial moment and try to kiss Jonny, and then they'd both be screwed.
But what could she say? "Stop looking at me like you think I’m great, because it makes me want to jump you"? Yeah, that would go over well. She just had to force herself to get over this, once and for all.
"But why do you have to get over it?" Erica asked, after Pat had finished explaining everything to her over the phone on Thursday night.
Pat sighed. "Because eventually Jonny is going to start dating someone else, and I’ll have to be a good friend and be happy for her."
"Here’s a wild idea," Erica said. "Ask her out yourself, dumbass!"
Pat should have known better than to think that Erica would actually be any real help.
"Look," Erica continued when Pat didn’t say anything. "Do you think Jonny wouldn’t want to at least try dating you?"
"Do I have to bring up the long list of people she’s dated in the past, all of whom were men? And the one time she hooked up with a girl and came to practice the next day and said ‘wasn’t really what I wanted’?"
Erica snorted in frustration. "Okay, fine, I’m not buying that one subpar night with a chick made her swear off women forever. But even if she didn’t want you like that, do you think she’d let your friendship get destroyed over it?"
"Noooo," Pat said slowly. "But there’s no way to be sure it wouldn’t fuck things up. It’s too important. She’s too important."
"Which is why she deserves the truth, Patty." Erica sighed. "Fine, I can tell I’m not going to get through your thick skull, but when all of this finally blows up in your face, I’m going to call you and laugh for five minutes."
"Gee, thanks," Pat said. "I can really feel the love."
"You want love? Call Mom," Erica said, and hung up.
Pat smiled, even though she kind of wanted to strangle Erica. Calling her mom would only result in Pat getting a lecture about not visiting home enough. She could, however, call Jess and Jackie for further opinions.
Twenty minutes later, Pat went to bed, fervently wishing she’d been born an only child, and wondering, again, how it was that all her sisters always seemed to have the exact same view on everything about Pat’s life, especially when it came to Jonny. Of course, the bigger question was why Pat kept calling them about Jonny, given all of the above, but that was something Pat would probably never figure out.
On Friday, Pat slept in. She didn't have to go to work again until Sunday night, and she planned to spend the entire day in her pajamas. She made it until about noon before she couldn’t sleep any longer and shuffled into the kitchen to make herself toast. When she’d finished eating and had made her way back to bed to lounge with a book she’d been meaning to read for a while, she realized her phone had fallen down between her bed and the bedside table. She could hear it vibrating, and set her book down to dig for it.
Pat stared in disbelief at the screen once she got the phone in her hand - she had ten new text messages and an actual voicemail, all from Jonny. Her stomach swooped - something was seriously wrong. She called Jonny back immediately without reading any of the messages.
"Are you okay?" she asked, as soon as Jonny picked up. "What’s wrong?"
"Pat?" Jonny sounded confused, but not upset.
"What’s wrong?" Pat repeated, still panicky. "I just called you back - I didn’t read any of your messages yet, but I know you wouldn’t leave so many if it wasn’t an emergency. Do you need me to do anything?"
Jonny let out a shocked laugh. "No, I’m fine, everything’s fine. I’m sorry I freaked you out."
"Really? You’re not being forced to say that at gunpoint or anything, are you?"
"We need to work on your imagination," Jonny said. "I was just trying to figure out what I should get us for dinner. I’m coming over later."
"The fuck?" Pat said blankly. "Ten text messages about dinner?"
There was a long silence, which Pat was going to interpret as Jonny being ashamed of herself for scaring the shit out of Pat for no fucking reason.
"Uh," Jonny eventually said. "I wanted to get something you’d like?"
And now they were back to Jonny being strange again, because she knew Pat’s usual order at over ten different restaurants and never had trouble guessing what Pat would want on any given day. They had dinner together at least once a week, and neither of them tended to ask before showing up with food and a movie. Pat honestly couldn’t keep up. "You know what I like," she told Jonny.
"I wanted to be sure," Jonny said. Her voice still sounded slightly strangled, not at all like herself. Pat was going to kill her.
"Whatever, asshole," Pat said. "I want dessert, too, and you can figure out what to bring by yourself as your punishment for making me think I was going to have to take you to the hospital or something."
"Okay," Jonny said. "See you at seven."
Then she hung up. Jesus Christ, Pat was going to get whiplash from all of this. She dropped her phone back on the floor and went to go see if she still had the yoga DVDs Crow had loaned her. She could definitely use some calm at the moment.
"I’m glad you’re okay, you dumb jerk," she said quietly into Jonny’s neck. It took a few seconds, but Jonny hugged her back.
"I’m sorry I scared you," Jonny said, one arm rubbing up and down Pat’s back. "I didn’t know you’d immediately jump from ten text messages to hospitalization, to be fair."
"I work in a hospital, of course I’m going to assume the worst," Pat said. "Just let me hug you, okay?"
Jonny didn’t pull away, and Pat let herself pretend, just for a minute, that Jonny was hugging her like this with purpose, that it meant what she so desperately wanted it to mean. She pressed her face into Jonny’s shoulder, relaxing into the feel of Jonny’s arms around her, the warm, clean scent of her skin. It was perfect, and Pat could barely remember why it was so important that Jonny not ever know how Pat felt about her.
"You’ve got to stop," Pat mumbled, not lifting her head. Jonny pulled back abruptly, hands on Pat’s shoulders.
"Stop?" Jonny asked, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. "Stop what? Are you okay?"
"This," Pat said, waving her hand around vaguely to try and encompass everything about this particular moment. "Being so perfect, and smelling good, and touching me, and looking at me like I matter when I know I can’t have you the way I really want."
Jonny’s frown deepened. "You do matter, though. I know I haven’t been that great about showing you, but - Pat, don’t you know I - I," Jonny stopped, clearly frustrated with herself. "You do matter," she repeated. "I don’t want to stop looking at you like that. You - you can have me, however you want me."
Pat’s ears were buzzing, and she could hardly hear Jonny. She was too focused on the look on Jonny’s face, the deep possessiveness and - and care, with a tinge of lust that Pat had never realized was there before. Pat licked her lips, feeling it like an actual touch as Jonny’s eyes dipped down to watch the movement. The whole situation felt surreal, as if Pat were watching from a distance as her own hands moved lower on Jonny’s waist, pulling her in again. Pat tilted her face up, meeting Jonny’s gaze as Jonny finally looked at Pat’s eyes instead of her mouth. This was real, Pat thought wildly. It was real, and it was happening, and Jonny was going to kiss her, she could tell.
Jonny's eyes were dark and her cheeks were red, which Pat noted only distantly, because all of her attention was on Jonny's mouth moving toward hers. Jonny's lips were warm and dry when they finally reached Pat’s mouth, tentative in a way that didn't suit her. She didn't need to be tentative, she should know that Pat was already hers in every possible way. Pat parted her own lips, coaxed Jonny closer with her hands on Jonny's back, and put every single bit of pent-up desire she'd been smothering since high school into the kiss.
Jonny shuddered under her hands and pressed Pat closer, their bodies molding together. It felt perfect, exactly the way Pat had always imagined. It was better than that, Pat thought. It was real.
"You’re so - " Jonny pulled away, breathing hard. "I’m sorry it took me this long. You’re a little shit half the time, but you’re mine, and I should have figured out what that meant sooner."
"It so doesn’t matter now," Pat said. "I don’t give a fuck how long it took. I’ve got you and I’m not letting you go."
Jonny’s eyes gleamed. "Good," she said. "Take off your clothes and get to the bedroom. We can eat later."
Pat wasn’t really sure how they made it, but she soon found herself in nothing but her pajama pants, staring down at Jonny’s fucking amazing breasts, at Jonny’s amazing everything, laid out on her bed like a dream come true. She lost herself in sucking Jonny’s nipples into her mouth in turn, loving the way she could feel Jonny pushing up against her, pressing their pelvises together in a gorgeous rush of heat.
"Pants," Jonny said, shoving Pat’s mouth away from her nipples. "Get ‘em off me."
Pat was reluctant to lose the feeling of Jonny’s breasts against her mouth, but she was also conditioned to obey Jonny’s orders. It took a few tries, but she and Jonny finally succeeded in pulling Jonny’s jeans down and off, and then she got completely distracted by the sight of Jonny’s hips, straining under an extremely impractical pair of black lace panties. Jonny - Jonny didn’t own underwear like that. She was always complaining about how hard it was to find decent plain cotton underwear in her size, but here she was, chest heaving on Pat’s bed and wearing legitimate lingerie like the most improbable of Pat’s fantasies.
Jonny flushed even redder under Pat’s gaze and refused to meet her eyes.
"Are those new?" Pat asked without thinking about it.
"Um," Jonny said, turning her face into the pillow. That meant yes, and it also meant that Jonny had gotten them specifically for this. For Pat.
"Oh my god," Pat said. She looked up from between Jonny’s thighs. "Fuck. Can - can I touch you? Wanna eat you out so bad, Jonny, you don’t even know."
"Fuck, yes," Jonny managed to say. She started to pull down her underwear, and Pat grabbed her hand to stop her.
"No," she said. "Leave them on for now."
Jonny’s whole body shuddered, and she finally looked right at Pat while she spread her legs wider. Whatever she saw in Pat’s eyes seemed to give her back a little of her usual confidence, because she smirked and lifted one eyebrow.
"C’mon," Jonny said. "Do it, I want your mouth on me."
Pat didn’t waste any more time on banter, just bent her head and licked firmly at Jonny’s cunt through the lace, pressing hard with the flat of her tongue as she moved her hands to Jonny’s hips, holding Jonny down against the bed. She could smell Jonny’s arousal, could feel how wet Jonny already was, and she had to briefly press a hand against her own cunt to relieve some of the pressure, just for a moment. She moved to squeeze one of Jonny’s amazing thighs, thinking of all the times she’d wanted to do that before.
"I thought about this," Jonny said, her eyes fixed on where Pat was licking her through the lace. "Wanted to push you down and ride your face, see if your tongue felt as good as it looked."
"Jesus," Pat gasped, suddenly aching for Jonny to do just that. "Okay," she told Jonny, scrambling to pull the lace panties off so she could get her mouth on Jonny as fast as possible. Licking through the lace had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Pat couldn’t think why she’d been teasing both of them like that when bare skin was an option.
Jonny cooperated, but before she let Pat lie all the way down, she tugged at the waist of Pat’s pajama pants, smirking at Pat. "It’s not fair if you’re not naked, too," she said. "Lose the pants."
"Uh huh," Pat said, shoving them down and off, grateful that she hadn’t bothered with underwear.
Jonny’s breath hitched as her eyes roved over Pat, and she smacked her bare ass while tugging her in for a bruising kiss. Her hands moved up Pat’s back and around to her breasts, and Pat gasped and arched into the touch.
"You little tramp," Jonny told her affectionately, finally letting her settle down on her back.
Pat smiled as obnoxiously as she knew how, getting herself situated on a pillow and grabbing Jonny’s own ass to pull her down. "You love it," she said.
"Yeah," Jonny said, just as Pat succeeded in getting her tongue on Jonny’s clit. "Fuck - "
Pat moaned, reveling in the taste of Jonny in her mouth, working her tongue as steadily as she could. She focused on Jonny’s clit, wanting to get her off as fast as possible. The first time, anyway.
Jonny pressed a hand down against Pat’s neck, sliding it up in a caress as she balanced on her knees over Pat’s mouth, her other hand pushed against the wall. Pat pulled back just enough to say "Take it, babe, come on, I can handle it," before diving back in, hands settled firmly on Jonny’s ass to hold her in place.
"Fuck," Jonny said again, her hand clenching reflexively in Pat’s hair. She pushed down, keeping Pat’s mouth where she wanted it and rolling her hips in a fast rhythm.
Pat kept her tongue against Jonny’s clit, moaning almost continuously with how amazing she felt, how fucking hot it was to have Jonny riding her mouth, to let Jonny set the pace. Jonny got steadily wetter, her taste strong in Pat’s mouth, and Pat wished she didn’t need to breathe and could just stay locked between Jonny’s legs forever. In just a few minutes, though, Jonny was choking out something in French as she tightened her grip on Pat’s face with her thighs. She pulsed into Pat’s mouth, her slick sliding all over Pat’s face, and then flopped back onto the bed next to Pat, breathing heavily.
"Wow," she said, grabbing at Pat’s waist, and slapping her weakly on the ass once she could reach. "Good work."
Pat laughed, wiping a hand over her lips and then sucking two fingers into her mouth. "Good enough for some payback?"
"Babe," Jonny said. "As soon as I can move, I’m going to wreck you."
"It won’t be very hard," Pat replied, moving to kiss Jonny again. "You wreck me just by existing, in case you hadn’t noticed."
Jonny kissed her back, pulling Pat’s legs around her thigh so Pat could grind against it. "I noticed," she said, eyes dark and fixed on Pat’s mouth. "I’m still going to make you come, and then I’m going to keep doing it over and over again until we’re both ready to pass out from exhaustion."
Pat closed her eyes, focused on the feeling of Jonny’s strong thigh, the muscle quivering under her cunt, sending delicious sparks of pleasure through her. This particular scenario had been something she’d thought about frequently, when she’d let herself get that far down the path of wanting Jonny. "N - no complaints here," she managed to say, and then Jonny made it very difficult for her to think, let alone speak.
After they’d gotten through rounds one and two, taken a brief break for dinner, and gone back for rounds three through five, neither of them could stay awake any longer. Jonny tucked Pat in against her body, mouthing along her neck gently. "You - you wreck me, too, you know," she whispered. "I didn’t figure it out very quickly, but you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me."
Pat smiled and closed her eyes, feeling more content than she’d thought possible just that morning. "Yeah, babe. I know."
Jonny wanted pancakes, and it was pretty hard to argue with her at the best of times, much less when she was in Pat’s bed wearing nothing but a pair of Pat’s black boy-cut underwear. Jonny’s own underwear had been pretty thoroughly ruined by the previous night’s activities, and she’d refused to go to bed naked. Now Pat was suffering the consequences of her generosity, because Jonny’s ass could not be contained by such a tiny bit of fabric and it was somehow even more obscene than the lace panties had been.
"Pancakes," Jonny muttered again, her eyes still closed. She reached out and found Pat’s leg, poking at it lazily a few times before yanking the covers up from where she’d kicked them during the night, retreating back under the duvet completely. Her head was the only part of her still visible, and Pat leaned down to kiss her forehead. She was just so fucking cute, and Pat couldn’t help it.
"Fine," Pat said, forcing herself up and out of the bed. "Pancakes, but only because I’m an amazing person who is grateful for all the orgasms I got last night."
"Mmmhmm," Jonny murmured. "More where that came from, pancakes first."
Laughing, Pat made her way to the kitchen to start on their breakfast. It wasn’t until she’d dragged Jonny out of bed to eat at the breakfast bar like a good houseguest that she remembered the thought she’d had the night before about Jonny’s uncharacteristic underwear choice - how Jonny had planned this, had come over specifically to, what? Seduce Pat?
"Those were seduction panties!"
Jonny stared, which Pat couldn’t actually blame her for - she hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.
"Um," Pat said. "It’s just been bugging me, how weird you’ve been lately, but. It’s good! I liked the seduction!"
"You better have liked it," Jonny said, standing up and placing her empty plate in the sink. She hooked her chin over Pat’s shoulder and kissed her neck. "I seem to recall you liking it quite a bit."
"I did," Pat said, pulling away as Jonny’s breath tickled her skin. "It just kind of explained a lot of your oddness this week, and I didn’t really put it all together until now."
Jonny pulled back and tugged Pat around until they were facing each other. "Yeah, about that," Jonny said. "It was pointed out to me that I might have been missing something obvious about you and me - "
"Pointed out by who?" Pat interrupted. If those fucking busybodies on their team were going to try to take the credit for them getting together, they’d never hear the end of it.
"David," Jonny said, her cheeks pinking up with embarrassment.
Pat’s mouth dropped open. "Wooow," she said. "He doesn’t have any of my sisters’ numbers, does he? I feel like we might have just gotten quadruple-teamed by nosy siblings."
"Are you complaining?" Jonny asked. She said it lightly, trying to make it a joke, but Pat knew her better than that.
"Not at all," Pat replied, tucking her fingers into the tight waistband of the underwear (Pat’s underwear, fuck) digging into Jonny’s hips. "I’m going to buy them all a giant thank-you present."
Jonny relaxed, smiling as she pulled Pat’s hand up to her mouth, sucking the index finger against her tongue. "I should give you some more to be grateful for then, shouldn’t I?"
Pat wasn’t going to argue with that. They didn’t have to be at the arena for at least three hours, and she had only just begun to think of all the things she and Jonny could do to each other until then.
It was the best game Pat had played since the first time they won the championship, and it was made even better by the way she could feel Jonny watching her, even more than usual, and by the heat in Jonny’s gaze. That part was new, and Pat loved it.
When they finished all the post-game rituals and got cleaned up enough, they headed to the usual post-game bar. Most of the Painguins and Caps were already there, since the Blackshocks’ match against the Switchblades had been the second bout of the evening.
The Blackshocks all gathered together at their usual booth to celebrate their win. Before long, they were joined by Duncan, Abby, and a few other significant others and friends. Pat didn’t expect to see many Switchblades tonight, and she was surprised so many Caps were there. After a loss, they all tended to want to lick their wounds privately.
"Bets on how long Sid's gonna take before she caves and begs Malkin to fuck her?" Sharpy said, pointing to where Sid was blushing and half-heartedly trying to stop Evgeniya from pouring a shot down her throat at the Painguins' table. She looked pretty happy with herself, which Pat figured was normal after a win, especially since Sid loved beating the Caps more than any other team.
Pat laughed from her position tucked into Jonny's side in the middle of their booth. "No bet," she said. "I think she already has."
"Crosby's a shit actor," Brenna protested. "No way could she have hidden it this long."
"I'm just saying, neither of them look like people who are still pining for each other," Pat said. "And I know from pining, okay?" She felt Jonny smile at that, and she squeezed Jonny's thigh.
"Wait," Duncan said, giving Pat and Jonny both a suspicious look. "Wow, forget Sid and Geno, did this finally happen?" He turned to Brenna and frowned. "Why didn’t you tell me?"
"What could Biscuit possibly have to tell you about us?" Jonny stared impassively at everyone, while Pat tried and failed to keep a huge smile off her face. She wasn’t managing any kind of stealth, but Jonny hopefully knew better than to expect that from her. From the way Jonny kept her arm around Pat’s shoulders and didn’t tense up, Pat figured it was a safe bet.
Sharpy shook her head. "It is hard to tell with these two," she said conspiratorially to Duncan and Brenna. "But I think Peeks is glowing, don’t you?"
"I am," Pat confessed. "I am glowing all over the fucking place."
Jonny smirked, and her face took on the smug look that meant she was extremely pleased with herself. Pat couldn’t really fault her for that, though. Pat was pleased with her, too.
"I feel cheated," Duncan said. "I’ve had to watch them get drunk and grab at each other for over a year, and I didn’t even get a front row seat to the end-game."
Sharpy’s grin took on a hint of malicious glee that Pat would have worried about if she hadn’t been so happy. "We’ve all had to watch that, and no one got invited to the show. What a shame."
"Recreate it!" Andy yelled to Jonny from the other side of the Brandys, who were both watching with interest. "Show us all how you swept Peeks off her feet."
"That’s assuming Jonny was the one who did the sweeping," Marian pointed out. "We don’t know that for sure."
"We know that for sure," Crow said, which sparked a table-wide argument about who had wooed who (Bollig actually used the word "woo", which Pat planned to let her live down, oh, about never).
Pat leaned closer into Jonny’s solid warmth at her side. "Should we tell them we swept each other, or let them keep fighting?"
Jonny snorted. "Let them keep fighting. But, for the record, I swept you off your feet harder."
"What?" Pat squawked. She shoved away from Jonny and into Brenna, bringing everyone’s attention back to them. "The hell you did!"
And that was how Pat ended up getting completely wasted on tequila shots in a bartender-refereed drinking match against her girlfriend in front of their entire team to prove her sexual/wooing prowess. It was a pretty awesome night.
The next morning, Pat woke up in Jonny’s bed, Jonny’s arm firmly wrapped around her waist. Her head was pounding, she thought she vaguely recalled having dipped Jonny into a certified movie-kiss while standing on top of their table while Abby cheered, and she’d definitely been too drunk to make good on any of her threats to make Jonny come so hard she saw stars once they’d been helped from the cab to Jonny’s apartment by a longsuffering Brenna and Duncan.
"Urgh," Jonny mumbled into her neck. "Stop thinking, it hurts."
That was a fair enough point, so Pat stopped thinking, grabbed the water bottle Brenna must have left for them on the bedside table, and forced herself to take the accompanying ibuprofen. She prodded Jonny to do the same, then set her phone alarm for three hours later.
Eventually, she’d have to get up and go to work. Jonny would probably make them work out harder and longer tomorrow at practice to make up for their partying last night. Pat would have to call her sisters later and sit through all of their Jonny-related gloating. Right now though, with Jonny mouth-breathing against Pat’s ear and making little snuffling noises as she fell back to sleep, Pat felt better than she had in months.
It had been a long week, but a pretty fucking perfect one in the end.