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Me: So if Jonny’s ass is two cantaloupes shoved down the back of his pants

Me: then his thighs are two FREAKIN WATERMELONS

Diana: no you know what I need?

Diana:  Some Kaner riding those thighs fic

Diana: Maybe they make a bet. A sex bet. And Jonny wins. And the bet is maybe “winner gets to choose how they have sex for an undetermined amount of time”

Me: Let’s do this



Jonny and Pat- they have a thing for bets. Something about the competitiveness, maybe trying to prove who’s more of a man (as if winning a bet would determine that.)

Either way, they end up betting on their sex life: at the end of the preseason, whoever has the most points gets to choose how they have sex for an “undetermined amount of time.” As in, loser can’t initiate anything, and the winner calls all the shots.

And of fucking course, Jonny wins. It’s by a single point, some secondary assist on a goal no one thought went in, but actually did.

So it’s a week of Jonny coming home and sitting on the couch all spread out. And Kaner A) riding him on the couch, or B) riding his thighs because they definitely don’t quit.

Patrick thinks he can catch a break, but then he walks through the door after grocery shopping to find Jonny sitting butt-ass naked on the couch, leaning back against the couch and legs spread while he plays Mario Kart.

He may or may not trip his way into the apartment.

It causes Jonny to face him, and give him the absolute laziest grin. Jonny always makes him a clumsy, flustered mess.

“Welcome home,” Jonny grins, lopsided, naked thighs spread out, thick and obscene.

“Well this is a... nice surprise” (and he has to gulp before even finishing that sentence because he truly is overwhelmed by all things Jonny but especially naked Jonny.)

Jonny enjoys Pat’s suffering. “Better put the groceries up before the frozen stuff melts.” Jonny says nonchalantly. Which has Patrick scrambling into the kitchen, making Jonny smirk and spread out even more.

He knows how much Patrick loves his body, and it’s the same with him and Pat’s. But getting to show off a little after a summer apart always fills him with such a sense of smugness, especially seeing Pat’s reaction.

He just sinks back into the cushions, practically presenting himself, and starts up a new game.

When Kaner comes back, he’s just staring again because he can’t help it. Jonny just looks so damn relaxed, tan, and ready for the full season, and Kaner just wants to give him whatever he wants. (And honestly he needs to anyways since he lost the bet.)

Jonny doesn’t even look at him, just pats his thigh to invite Patrick over.

Patrick eyes it as it jiggles, gulping loudly. He makes his way over slowly. He knows what Jonny wants. And he knows that Jonny knows. But he’s still overwhelmed with the idea that he can have this. So many years of fighting this, fighting Jonny, and now they’re finally here. And he can let himself have Jonny.

Jonny looks up and must see some of that on his face, because his face softens and reaches up to tug Kaner gently down to straddle him. He doesn’t say anything but reaches up and brings Kaner’s head down to connect their mouths gently.

Patrick melts into him, legs splayed outside of Jonny’s, arms by his hips. Just falls into him. Because Jonny knows what to give him and how to give it to him. And he trusts him.

They make out for a little while, before Jonny pulls back and presses Pat’s head to his shoulder. Reaches for the controller to start up a new gam, Just letting Patrick sit in his lap and kiss up and down his neck and shoulder, resting there, while he focuses on his game.

Pat is content to do that for a little bit, before he gently starts moving his hips against Jonny’s, making sure to be careful since he’s clothed and Jonny’s not and nobody needs any chafing. He starts to bite a little harder at Jonny’s neck, and he throws his head back with a groan and leaves more neck for Kaner to lick and suck at.

Jonny pauses the game, seeing where this was going. He’d been hoping this was where things went, but it had looked like Kaner just needed him to help him settle for a bit. Which Jonny’s always glad to do because — it’s Kaner. He’d do anything for Kaner.

“You need somethin’ baby?” Jonny whispers, mouth skimming the shell of Pat’s ear. He runs his hands through Patrick’s curls, scratching at his scalp, before trailing his hands down to his ass and squeezing. “Gonna take these off for me?” Plays with the waistband of his pants.

Pat whimpers and shakes his head, stands up on shaky legs to do it himself, with Jonny’s eyes burning into him. Then, he settles himself over Jonny again, straddling those massive thighs. He starts to get into the same rhythm he had before, but this time it feels even better.

“That’s my boy.” Jonny grabs Pat’s ass again, grinding into him without the hassle of clothes, bites across Pat’s neck, nosing behind his ear. “I got you.”

Patrick whimpers and just buries his face in Jonny’s neck more, content to just move against Jonny like that, and he melts even more into Jonny because he found one of Pat’s most sensitive spots. Pat noses his way to Jonny’s ear and sighs, “you always do. I missed you, Jonny.” Voice so low it’s almost whispering.

Jonny moans, feeling Patrick rock against him. “Always got you.” He agrees. Fingers skimming across Pat’s hole. “My beautiful boy.”

Pat shudders, starting to rock his hips a little harder, and starts chanting Jonny’s name as he does. Feeling the urgency start to rise within the both of them, even though they’re both trying to take it slow.

Jonny rocks against him faster, kissing down his shoulder, up his neck, right to his lips to dive in hot and hard. Making sure Pat knows that he’s in charge.

Pat whimpers and leans his own head back, giving Jonny room to kiss all over his neck. At the same time that he started moving his hips faster in response to Jonny’s. Patrick’s practically humping Jonny’s lap at this point, but his desperateness just makes Jonny hotter.

Jonny bites Pat’s neck harder, sucking hickeys that Pat won’t be able to hide. “Talk to me, baby,” he groans, thrusting up sharply. “Tell me what you feel.”

“Oh god” Pat moans, finding it hard to breathe, let alone speak, with how good Jonny’s making him feel. “So good, baby. So fucking good. Please don’t stop, don’t stop don’t stop.”

He’s whimpering by the end, to which Jonny returns with, “yeah baby fuck my thighs like that come on. Get yourself off for me.”

Tears prick at the corners of Pat’s eyes, and he slings his head back with a loud cry, before burying his face in Jonny’s neck, feeling on the brink of coming but not quite there.

“Jonny.” He squeaks.

Jonny runs one hand down Pat’s back and grips his ass, helping Pat to move faster and harder against him. “Come on baby. You can do it, almost there aren’t you?”

Patrick nods quickly, panting open-mouthed against Jonny’s shoulder. He shudders, thrusting frantically against Jonny’s thigh and dick, before coming with a muted cry, openly sobbing into Jonny’s skin.

Pat collapses onto Jonny, his whole weight pressing Jonny gently down into the couch. And he lets Pat take all the time he needs to recover.

When Patrick can take a breath without sobbing, he slowly pushes himself up and stares at Jonny with wide blue eyes. They slide down Jonny’s body and stare pinpointed on Jonny’s dick, still hard and red.

Pat licks his lips and sees the way Jonny’s eyes darken even more. He lowers himself onto his knees and settles himself between Jonny’s legs, leaning his head down to lick at the head of Jonny’s dick.

Jonny groans, hand flying to Patrick’s hair to fist his curls. He’s only human — he’s only a man, with the same urgency to stick his dick in whatever he can. And Patrick’s mouth — and his dumb oral fixation — is better than some sex toy or a pillow. Patrick loves giving head, and Jonny loves getting it.

Jonny throws his head back on the couch, letting Kaner absolutely wreck him with that insane mouth of his. But he can’t help himself and has to peek and look down, and the sight he sees makes him freeze.

Pat’s looking at him with so much love and desire in his eyes, lips wrapped around his dick so prettily, like he’s sucking on a lollipop. Content little humming sounds are coming from his throat, happy noises, loving being able to get between Jonny’s split legs and deepthroat his dick.

“Oh god, Pat. You’re so fucking gorgeous like this you know that? And I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” Jonny’s panting, chest falling and rising quickly starting to really go towards that point of no return.

Patrick meets his eyes, a little sparkle in them that Jonny knows means ‘yours’. Then goes at Jonny’s dick like a starved child, to let Jonny know that his dick is his.

Jonny comes with a strangled yell, tossing his head back and shooting down Patrick’s throat.  Pat gently strokes his thighs in a soothing way, licking him through the aftershocks before popping off and licking his lips to make sure he got everything.

“You’re evil.” Jonny whispers, voice raspy. 

He pulls Patrick off his knees and onto the couch, cuddling him. He spends the next few minutes just panting and coming down from his orgasm, and says, “Give me a few minutes and then I’m gonna have you ride me.”

The way Jonny says “have you ride me,” indicating that Patrick doesn’t have a choice, makes him whimper and cling onto Jonny tighter.

Jonny sees that and smiles “you want that don’t you baby?”

Patrick nods, hiding his face in embarrassment. “Make me.” He whispers.

Jonny groans. Patrick will be the death of him.

But, as Patrick rides his dick into the fucking sunset, Jonny thinks there’s worse ways to go.

Chapter Text

Early mornings or late at night, but never during the day. That’s their way of work.

Jonny went to a hot yoga class in his apartment complex, just to try it out. He ended up meeting his cute instructor — Patrick — and decided he’d be attending all future classes.

Jonny stays behind for a bit sometimes, wants a good workout and Patrick is happy to help, stretches him out real good. Helps Jonny move into new positions.

He keeps a hand on Jonny’s back, pushing gently. Speaking low and quiet, gravelly, things like “just move down a little,” or “push up more” or “yeah there you go.”

The man is basically talking dirty to him while he stretches him. Meanwhile Jonny’s trying desperately not to pop a boner.

Jonny’s bent downward dog while Patrick places warm rocks in the dip of his spine before the swell of his ass. Sometimes, his fingertips will brush against the fat of them by accident. Jonny forces himself to think of naked grandmas or something to keep his boner down.

Meanwhile Kaner feels the slight shudders going through Jonny’s body, and tries to get Jonny to fall apart under his fingers. So he gets Jonny to backbend with his chest and sternum in the air, and Patrick puts the rocks on his chest.

He ghosts his fingers over Jonny’s nipples, watches him twitch and shiver, mumbles half-hearted apologies. He keeps doing it, noticing just how sensitive they are and Jonny’s reaction each time.

When Jonny starts trembling, Patrick maneuvers him again to lay on his back, pulls one of his legs to press against his chest and the other flat on the floor. He pulls one arm out to lay high above his head, the other holding his bent leg, and repositions the rocks — this time, ghosting his fingers over his crotch.

Jonny rolls his head to the side, trying to stop shivering from Patrick’s touch and to school his expression but he can see right through him. Patrick sits back and watches, let’s him breathe, because he’s picked up on Jonny’s exhibitionist thing.

Jonny gets the courage to move his head to look at Patrick, and he’s sitting there looking at him with a small smile, enjoying Jonny’s attempt to calm down. Jonny can’t keep it in anymore and immediately pops a boner seeing Patrick watching him, tenting in his yoga shorts.

Patrick smirks at him and meets his eyes, deep and dark and smug. When he starts reaching a hand out towards his shorts, Jonny drops his head onto the floor and lets Patrick have his way with him.

Chapter Text

Jonny’s team is full of idiots.

He’s known that for a while, but this time really takes the cake.

They’re sitting squashed together in a booth of a bar, still dressed in their post-game suits. Patrick’s pressed tight next to him, not really drinking his beer as much as he is biting at the rim of the bottle, tongue poking out from between his teeth.

Jonny’s shed his suit jacket, but his sleeves are still down, rolled and cuffed to a T. Which, of course, is when Seabs snorts at him and says, “Damn, Toews. That suit just screams ‘sugar daddy,’ eh?”

The team erupts into laughter, but Jonny goes trense in his seat. His cheeks are red, and he sputters denials, but it’s too late. Patrick’s already seen it.

Patrick registers all of Jonny’s reactions. He’s a little embarrassed, but he knows that look — that’s the ‘this turns me on but I don’t wanna admit it’ look. So he makes sure to make a mental note to do something about it as soon as they get back to their hotel room.

The comment disintegrates into a new conversation, away from Jonny and his embarrassing kinks, and he can enjoy his beer in peace.

They’re on the bus when Patrick sits himself next to Jonny. They’re quiet, enjoying the time to be buzzed a little but not enough to be out of it. They help each other to the room, and of course Pat backs Jonny up against the wall once they shut the door behind them.

Jonny grins down at him, going in for a kiss, but Patrick stops him with a hand on his chest. “I saw the way you reacted when the guys were teasing you about the suit.”

He plays with Jonny’s tie and stares up at his boyfriend all prettily through his eyelashes. “I don’t blame them though, you look damn good in it. But that’s not what bothered you was it?”

Jonny’s pupils get bigger, but there’s a flicker of panic on his face. Patrick revels in the power he has. “No, you get off on being praised, so it couldn’t have been that. It was a word, I think — what was it, again?”

Jonny’s eyes are wide and dark, and there’s a tremor in his hands when he reaches up and grabs Patrick by the collar of his shirt.

“You better watch,” he warns, “what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Patrick asks, lips brushing Jonny’s as he talks. “I think you want me to say it.”

Jonny eyes flutter for a moment, before gritting his teeth and glaring into Patrick’s soul. “Then say it.”

Kaner blinks for a second; he knew Jonny would take the bait but yet he’s still surprised anyways. He takes a breath and closes his eyes before opening them and locking eyes with Jonny.


Jon groans, but Patrick keeps going. “Take me to bed please? Daddy, I’ll be so good for you.”

Jonny’s breathing stutters, and that’s the only warning Patrick gets before he’s roughly pushed backwards and shoved onto the bed. Jonny strips his shirt and chucks it somewhere so Patrick can see all of his upper body. He lays on top of Patrick, pinning his arms to the bed and kissing him so hard, Patrick’s dizzy with it.

Jonny pulls back only enough to stare into Patrick’s wide, vulnerable eyes. “Daddy will take care of you.”


Chapter Text

Laura Kane-Toews is born on a cold February morning on a farm in the middle of nowhere, USA.

Jonathan dabs Patrick's forehead with a cold rag while he labors, stuffed into the blankets of their bed. He moans in pain, but Jonathan shushes him quiet and kisses his cheek. “Dr. Emurhand will be here soon. Just hold on a bit longer.”

“Tell that to the baby,” Patrick huffs, “They are determined to get here. I suppose they get the determination from you.”

Jonathan smiles, pleased, and Patrick whacks him on the arm lightly. “Do not smile at my misery.”

“It's not your misery I am smiling at.” Jonathan assures with a faint chuckle, hand on Patrick’s bump, and leans forward to take his hand. Patrick smiles at him, before his mouth pulls into a grimace at the contraction.

“Breathe.” Jonathan reminds him, and rubs the swell of the bump with his thumb.

The sound of horses approaches the farm, and Patrick breathes a sigh of relief. “Is that Doc E?”

Jonny peers out the windows. “Yes, looks like it. I'll be right back.”

He hurries down the farmhouse and to the door to greet the doctor on his way inside. “Dr. Emurhand. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course, Jonathan.” He chuckles. “Where is Patrick?”

He takes the doctor up the stairs. “Upstairs. He's in a great deal of pain.”

“Childbirth is a painful thing. He'll take comfort in having you with him.”

Jonathan stops in front of the door to the bedroom where his love is lying helpless. “I am allowed to stay for the birth?”

Dr. Emurhand furrows his eyebrows. “Of course. Why wouldn't you be?”

“I've heard some of the women in town say that their husbands were not present for delivery.” He frowns. “I thought for sure the doctors would not allow me.”

“It is an old practice,” Dr. Emurhand says, “But not one that I work by.”

Jonathan smiles and opens the door to the bedroom. Patrick is still there, eyes tired, body tense with pain. He extends an arm out for his husband, and Jonathan comes in an instant.

“Morning, Patrick.” Dr. Emurhand greets.

Patrick's face is slack and his eyes are closed, but there's curiosity in his voice when he asks, “Morning?”

“It's two hours till dawn.” The doctor tells him. “I take it that means you've been laboring for a while.”

Patrick nods. “Since after lunch.”

“Should be close to time then.” Dr. Emurhand smiles kindly at them. Sure enough, after he’s taken his place at the foot of the bed and parted Patrick’s legs, he says, “Are you boys ready?”

Patrick squeezes Jonny’s hand nervously and takes a breath.

The screaming begins.

The sun is barely peeking over the horizon when it stops. Instead, it is replaced by a series of high-pitched wailing from a squalling little baby in Dr. Emurhand's arms.

Jonathan's got Patrick's body clutched into his chest, but he's beaming, happy and nervous, looking down between Patrick's legs.

“How is the babe?” He asks, voice shaky.

The doctor smiles. “She is a strong child, looks healthy as ever.”

Patrick feels breathless. “She?”

“She,” Dr. Emurhand confirms.

He puts the baby on Patrick's chest so he can hold her, “Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

Their girl is pink in the face with wisps of blond hair and silk-soft skin. She's beautiful, and they will never let her out of their sight.

“You are wonderful,” Patrick whispers, holding her close as she curls into him and his warmth. She's small in his arms. He loves her.

“I will give you the best life,” Jonathan assures, breathless in awe at the sight of her. His thumb caresses her chubby cheek, “I promise.”

Chapter Text

Patrick knocks up a girl when he’s seventeen during a party in the midst of his gay panic. They both have some beers, and her name is Courtney, and they forget a condom.

She’s born in June, seven months after his eighteenth birthday. She’s pink and tiny and screeching at the top of her lungs, and Patrick is absolutely in love with her.

Courtney loves her too, but she’s on her way to Yale, and she doesn’t want to jeopardize her scholarship by having to deal with a baby 24/7. He tries to tell her that he’s about to get drafted — because the draft is just days away — but she gives up custody, and there’s no way he’s putting his girl up for adoption.

When Courtney leaves, Patrick’s left with a tiny baby girl who’s life is depending on him.

He focuses on hockey, because he’s going to the NHL — he knows it. And then suddenly he’s being favored to go first, and then he learns the Blackhawks are choosing first. And holy shit, he could be drafted to the Blackhawks.

He’s drafted to the Blackhawks.

His baby girl — Jasmine — isn’t at the draft. The noise would be too much for her little ears, but as soon as he gets home, he goes to his room where she sleeps in a crib against his wall, scoops her up, and presses his nose into her soft hair.

“Daddy did it.” He whispers. Jasmine spits up on his shoulder. He loves his life.

She’s four months old when Patrick scores his first goal in the NHL. Jonny’s there to celebrate, and the locker room sprays Gatorade on him, and even with a shower he still smells like fruit punch. Jasmine seems to like it, though, and snuggles closer to him when he comes home.

Patrick keeps Jasmine a secret from the team. He’s not ashamed, but he doesn’t want them thinking he’s irresponsible — getting a girl pregnant when he was barely an adult, but going out with the guys after games even though she’s at home with a babysitter.

He needs them to know that he belongs here, without a doubt.

But, his baby girl comes first. If his babysitter cancels, he backs out of team dinners or drinks after games because he wants to be with Jasmine. Patrick hates not being able to go with the guys, always feels like he's abandoning them every time they try to bond with him. But he has his girl to think of and he'll never say no to not spending time with her.

He’s such a natural with kids already, but with Jasmine- it’s something else.

When he’s on the road and missing her, he hunkers down in the bathroom, spending time talking to her, making sure she can hear his voice and that he loves and misses her.

Jonny chirps him for taking extremely long showers but Kaner just rolls with it.

One day, Jonny overhears Patrick on the phone in the bathroom saying, "Don't worry baby, I'll be home soon. I love you, sweet girl," and assumes Pat has a girlfriend.

Jonny doesn't hear the tiny squeal on the other line.

So, when they’re out one night at a bar — Pat and Jon sadly sipping on sodas — Jonny tells the team Pat's got a girl. Immediately, the guys rip him for it, and Pat just sits there trying not to freak out.

“What’s her name, Peeks?” Sharpy asks with a sleazy grin.

In a moment of panic, Patrick blurts, “Amelia.”

Amelia is a beautiful, twenty year old brunette, that Patrick would totally go for if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s very gay (but smarter now, so that whole gay panic thing won’t happen again, hopefully).

She’s also Jasmine’s babysitter.

Things seems to settle down for a while. Amelia, surprisingly, is very understanding of Patrick’s predicament, and agreed to pretend to be his girlfriend until either of them found someone of their own.

Everything is going fine, until it isn’t.

They're drinking at a bar in Toronto in the middle of December when someone makes a joke, they and Patrick throws his head back and laughs, and Jonny feels a burst of adoration.

And he realizes oh. Oh no.

Patrick’s in the middle of laughing at one of Duncs’s stupid jokes, when Amelia calls him. He ignores the chirping and whistling he gets from the team and answers it quickly.

“Don’t freak out,” Amelia tells him, “Jasmine has a little bit of a fever, only 99, and she’s been throwing up.”

Patrick feels floored. “What?”

“I called the pediatrician and she says it’s not serious enough to come in.” Amelia reassures, “I’ll keep an eye on it and let you know. It’s not serious, but I figured I should keep you informed.”

“Yeah, uh- thanks. Call me later.” He says, hangs up, and roughly shoves his phone into his pants pocket.

“All good in romance-land?” Sharpy giggles like an asshole. Jonny’s tense beside him, but he doesn’t pay any mind to it, too panicked about his baby girl.

“Yeah, fine.” He pats around for his phone and wallet. “I gotta go. I’ll see you guys later.”

He ignores the groans from his teammates, but Jonny’s hand on his wrist stops him. “We came on the bus. I’ll get a cab with you, yeah?”

Patrick’s confused, but he needs to get back to the hotel so he can talk to Jasmine. So he nods, makes a beeline out the door, and doesn’t check if Jonny’s following.

They push into the hotel room. Patrick immediately goes into the bathroom and locks the door.

“Kaner?” Jonny asks, knocking on the door. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he gets back, weak, “Just don’t feel well all of a sudden.”

Jonny doesn’t buy it for a second, and decides pacing back and forth outside the door is a good idea.

Patrick calls Amelia so that he can talk to his girl. He’d video chat, but he can’t risk Jonny hearing her and he doesn’t have his headphones.

She’s crying when Amelia picks up, but she’s quick to assure him it’s just because he gave her some baby Tylenol and she didn’t like the taste.

He talks to her, listens to her cry and tries to calm her. Calls her every nickname he can think of and tells her he loves her. Begs her not to cry.

“I’m right here, baby,” he whispers, “Please don’t cry.”

Jonny has absolutely no idea what's happening.

Hearing his voice does help a little. She settles down, but Amelia tells him she’s still fussing about a bit, and her 99 degree fever is still there. She assures him that she'll call if she gets worse, then hangs up with a promise that his girl is okay. Patrick hangs up and chucks the bag of toothbrushes he and Jonny brought against the bathtub in a fit of anger.

Jonny decides that’s enough and he knocks on the door. “What the hell is going on?”

Patrick swings the door open and sniffles pathetically. "Sorry."

Jonny is immediately alarmed. “Woah, hey, Kaner, what’s going on?”

And that’s how Patrick knows Jonny is really concerned, seeing Pat all sniffly and red eyed.

“You weren’t fighting with your girlfriend, were you? I could hear a little bit but…”

Kaner’s head snaps up instantly. “You could hear that? What did you hear?”

Jonny goes red a little and scratches the back of his neck. "Just some gushy stuff. But it's fine, Pat, she's your-" he stutters, "she's your girl.”

Patrick's skin is buzzing, and Jonny grabs him by the arms. "You look two seconds from fainting, Kaner. Take it easy, eh, little buddy?”

Kaner shakes himself out of it a little and says, “D-don’t call me that.”

Jonny smirks, “Knew that‘d get a smile.” But Kaner’s still looking like he saw a ghost. Jonny makes him sit on the bed. "You're freaking me out. What's going on?"

Patrick's not thinking straight, too busy panicking about his baby girl at home without him.

He plans on saying ‘my baby is sick,’ because Jonny would take it as a nickname for his “girlfriend” and wouldn’t ask about it anymore.

“My daughter is sick,” is what ends up coming out, and he blanches even further. “I-I meant my baby. You know- my girlfriend. My significant other, she’s sick, poor baby, um...” And then he sighs and just gives it up, drops his head into his hands in defeat.

Jonny basically has to regather all of the brain cells he just lost. “Your… daughter?”

He sinks onto the bed next to Kaner, stunned. "You and Amelia have a daughter?" His heart twists at the words, “and- she’s sick.”

“N-no she’s not-” and he shakes his head, trying to collect his nerves. He might as well just come out with it now that Jonny knows. Jonny won’t judge him — probably.

“She’s not mine and Amelia’s. Amelia’s not my girlfriend either. She was just pretending to be, because I didn’t want people to find out about Jasmine. She’s actually her babysitter.”

Jonny's silent for a moment, trying to comprehend it all. He says, faintly, “You’re a dad.” He scratches at his jaw, sees Patrick shaking beside him. "So, uh, how old is she?”

Pat, seeing the opportunity Jonny’s throwing out there, grins a little shakily, “Six months.”

Jonny smiles a little. "That's, uh, that's great, Pat. I- she's lucky to have you."

Patrick notices Jonny’s hesitance and leans over concerned, and slightly worried.“...are you ok?” If Jonny’s about to judge him for Jasmine, he’s going to gear himself up to throw hands.

Jonny stares at Patrick dumbly, bringing such close proximity. "Just- in shock." He lies.

Because he can't tell Patrick about his realization at the bar. He already deals with so much. Having to reject his friend isn't something Kaner needs right now.

Patrick doesn’t believe him, but he lets it go and pulls out his phone. “Do you wanna see pictures?”

Jonny nods and smiles again. "I'd love to. Bet she looks just like her Dad."

Pat blushes and looks down “Eh. She’s a beauty. I don’t know how much of that is me though.”

Jonny nudges him and looks at all the pictures. His heart swells at the pictures of Pat holding her for the first time, his hair messy (probably from stress-pulling on it) and baby swaddled in blankets, tucked close in his arms.

His thumb runs down the side of his phone in awe. "She's got your nose."

Kaner blushes. “Thanks. My mom says she also sleeps like me too. She sleeps a lot and is super quiet.”

Jonny’s gotta say something now. “That’s surprising, what happened to that Kaner?”

Kaner smiles and rolls his eyes, “you love hearing me talk, don’t front. Anyways, she doesn’t like being held by anyone that’s not me or Amelia.”

"Sounds like she's a total daddy's girl." Jonny grins, ruffling Patrick's hair. He looks back at the pictures, and he softens. “She’s beautiful.”

“Alright, alright I get it.” Kaner smiles, much more relaxed now with Jonny’s reaction.

Patrick's able to fall asleep that night, and eventually their plane is landing in Illinois and he can finally get home. Before he leaves, though, he turns to Jonny. "Do you, uh, want to come meet her?"

Jonny is stunned because he would but he also doesn’t want Patrick to feel like he’s obligated to offer that to Jonny

Patrick quirks an eyebrow at him expectantly. "Well?"

Jonny gathers himself and his bags. “Uh... sure y-yeah! I’d love to! Lead the way.”

They head out to their cars and head over to Pat’s house. When they get there, Amelia is in the kitchen preparing Jasmine’s nightly bottle. She turns around just as they walk in.

“Hey, Amelia.”

“Hey Pa- oh! Hi Jonathan.” She glances at Patrick nervously, but he shakes his head. “He knows about everything, it’s ok. Where’s Jasmine?”

She still looks wary. Jonny finds a weird sense of relief that Jasmine’s in such good hands. “She’s in the living room napping. Should be up soon though.”

“Thanks,” Patrick says and he walks past to go to the living room. Jonny following silently, waving awkwardly at Amelia as he goes.

The tense and awkward immediately disappears when Jonny catches sight of Jasmine in her bouncer, fast asleep on the floor in front of the couch. He can see Patrick visibly relax the moment he lays eyes on her. He drops his bags and sits in front of the bouncer.

He slowly rocks the basket she's laying in. Bit by bit, she blinks her eyes open, still very sleepy as her eyes fall on her father. She lets out an excited noise and reaches for him immediately.

Patrick takes her immediately, gets her out of the bouncer and into his arms. “How’s my favorite girl. Are you feeling better? You look like you’re feeling better,” in his softest and gentlest voice. She clearly is happy that he’s back, has her hands on his face as he kisses her cheeks and makes funny noises.

“Now Jazz. I’m gonna introduce you to a special friend of Daddy’s okay? I know you don’t like meeting new people, but can you try for me? Just once?”

Jasmine blinks up at Patrick with stuffs her hand in her mouth.

He turns around with her and heads towards Jonny. “Jonny, Jasmine. Jasmine, Jonny. Say hello, baby.” He takes her tiny hand and waves it at Jonny.

She’s already spellbound by Jonny, if the way she’s staring at him is any indicator, and clearly Jonny is by her too, because he’s staring right back at her with the same intensity.

“Can I hold her?” Jonny asks, nervous because he doesn’t want to drop her, and because that’s Pat’s baby. She’s f r a g i l e.

Patrick hands her over, positioning her correctly for Jonny to hold her against his shoulder. He looks down at her again, and she’s staring back, big brown eyes watching him with every inch of her attention. They just keep staring at each other — Patrick doesn’t think Jonny’s blinked yet.

Then, Jasmine leans her head against him and closes her eyes.

Patrick stares at the two of them in shock, and stares, and stares.

Jonny's too busy making sure he doesn’t break her to be paying much attention to the way she's acting. He takes one of her tiny fists in between his thumb and index finger, whispers, "Hi pretty girl." She mewls a little and falls asleep against his neck.

Pat’s just... he’s refused to let himself think much about it, but seeing Jonny smiling at his baby and calling her “pretty girl” hits him hard. His heart is pounding and his mouth is suddenly dry, and he’s just left with the mental image of what it would be like — if he were with Jonny, if they were a family.

It shakes him to the core, how easily he can picture it.

Jonny looks at him, smiling big and bright and proud. Proud of Patrick. Proud of his daughter. Jonny's so big. Bulky arms and torso and legs, thick neck, even though he's only nineteen or so. She's so small against him, fits perfectly in the space between his neck and shoulders where she’s scrunched herself up in a little ball.

He notices Patrick's slight distress and frowns. "You okay? I won't drop her, Kaner, I promise."

He's not joking, either. He's being serious. He's concerned about his girl and it's barely been ten minutes. It doubles all the feelings he's being hit with at the moment.

Patrick just stands there blinking at the sight for a few seconds before needing to get out of there “I need a few minutes,” and runs to the kitchen, grabs Amelia, and walks outside.

Amelia closes the door behind them. "Okayyy, do you want to explain why you just abducted me from the kitchen?" It's said gently, considering how pale and stricken Patrick looks. "I thought you'd be ecstatic to see her again."

“I am it’s just... her...  and Jonny... together...” he can barely find the words to describe just what’s going through his head at the moment.

"Pat, I need you to breathe," Amelia tells him. "If you pass out, I'll have to drive you to the hospital, and I don't have enough gas money for that." Again, she's joking, trying to calm him down. “What about her and Jonny?”

He chuckles, then takes a few breaths before continuing, “It’s just… I’ve had a thing for him for a while, and I started thinking... about what it would be like to have a family with him and that’s something I’ve never thought about before. But now...” He breaks off, unable to finish his sentence.

Amelia nods knowingly. "But now you've seen him with Jasmine and it's thrown you off guard.” She squeezes his arm. "I saw this coming you know. You and Jonathan fight about as much as you breathe, but you two have been close since you first met."

She hip-bumps him lightly. "Give it time, yeah? Take it slow. See where it goes, if he even feels the same. You never know. He might just surprise you. And you know he hates surprises."

Pat rolls his eyes playfully “Don’t I know it. You try to prank the guy one time and all of a sudden you’re the bad guy,” then chuckles. “But you’re right. Thanks, Amelia. You’re the best. What would I do without you?”

“Lord only knows.” She sighs. "Now go inside and woo your man with your magic baby powers."

Kaner turns bright red, stammers, “He’s not my man, and I don’t have magic baby powers.”

But he flees and goes to find Jonny. He comes into the living room to the sight of Jonny walking around gently rocking Jasmine, talking to her in a soft voice. He's feeding her a bottle, and he startles when he hears Pat come in.

"Sorry, uh," Jonny stutters, embarrassed, "she got fussy and I figured she was hungry, and I found the bottle Amelia made, and it seemed warm, so I thought I should...feed her."

Jasmine’s snuggled up against Jonny, tiny fist clutching Jonny's thumb. She coos around her bottle when she sees Patrick and kicks her legs excitedly.

Jonny flails for a second before he gets a better handle on her and turns to Patrick, slightly panicked but mostly playful and says, “Yeah never mind. She’s 100% Kane. Can’t stay still when awake and always demands your attention.”

Patrick's melting. Like, honest to God melting. He smiles at them weakly. "She never would stay still. Even when she sleeps, she'll toss and turn."

He walks over and puts his hand on the top of her head. She sighs happily, basking in the attention from the two.

"She's so little." Jonny whispers, staring down at her in awe as she drifts off again.

“I know.” Patrick whispers, then frowns. “She’s smaller than she should be for her age. The pediatrician says she needs to put on more weight, but even on her new diet, she hasn’t been gaining any.”

Jonny stares at her as she plays happily with Patrick’s fingers. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine. She’s tiny but tough, just like her Daddy.”

They look up at each other, eyes locked for a few moments, and Patrick thinks ‘maybe I’m not in this alone.’

It's at that moment that Jasmine spits up a little, getting some on Jonny's shirt. Patrick panics for all of two seconds, but Jonny just laughs and coos at her. "Aw. Bet you feel better now, huh?"

So Jonny changes into a new shirt and Patrick cleans up his girl, and they spend the rest of the day just lounging around the house with her.

They decide to lay on the floor and scroll through the Disney movies on Netflix, on their backs with Jasmine seated on her blanket between them. She’s still learning how to sit up on her own, so for now, she’s laying on her back, head rolling around as she looks back and forth between her dad and Jonny.

She's kicking happily between them, giggling and making spit bubbles. She's still a little warm, but she seems fine, so Patrick doesn't worry. Jonny’s got a hand on her belly, rubbing it gently and tickling her, grinning at the little giggles she’s making. At some point, she kicks herself onto her side and face plants into Jonny's bicep. And she grapples her little hands at his skin, so Jonny picks her up and puts her on his chest.

She just sighs all high pitched and happy and lays down. Patrick’s staring at them longingly, seeing his two favorite people in the whole world together. Pat he over a bit to be closer to them, rolls onto his side to watch them. He regrets not telling Jonny sooner. He could have had this months ago.

Jonny lifts his eyes from watching himself play with Jasmine’s fists, and meets Patrick’s. He smiles, easy, and Patrick thinks, ‘I never want this to end.’

When Jasmine pats Jonny’s face and grins at him, all scattered teeth and slobber, and Jonny absolutely lights up, Patrick has a feeling that it’s only the beginning.

Chapter Text

Auston gets off the phone with Patty a little after midnight. He’s sobbing, fist between his teeth as he tries to catch his breath. He wants to call Mitch, but Patty already called him and is probably doing his own grieving.

Patty’s fucking leaving.

Auston sniffles hard and runs a hand down his face, smearing his tears. He sits at his counter in the middle of the kitchen, contemplating his future existence without the father figure being a constant presence.

He won’t bother Marns, not so soon, and Freddie’s probably asleep. He scrolls through his contacts, considering calling one of his sisters, when he spots a contact labeled Kaner.

He presses the call button without thinking.

“Whassat?” Is what he gets when he answers, and he gets a flashback to sneaking into Kaner’s hotel room during the last All Star game in the middle of the night to watch old black and white movies and drink shitty beer. It sends a jolt of familiarity through him, and he laughs, wet and wilted. “Matts?”

“Hey, Kaner,” he says, voice groggy from crying, “Sorry to wake you.”

“S’okay,” Kaner replies, “What’s up?”

Auston sweeps his hand down his face again. “Patty got traded.”

There’s silence on the other line long enough for Auston to pull the phone back to see if they’re still connected. 

“Shit, man, I’m sorry.”  

“Yeah,” Auston croaks, “I’m sorry for calling so late, I just- I wanted to talk to someone. I shouldn’t have called, um-”

“Hey, no, it’s cool. You call Marns?” He sounds more awake now, but there’s shuffling on his side of the line, and then a deep, low voice mumbling something. He hears a quiet, barely-there, “It’s just Matts, baby, go back to sleep.”

“Uh, no, Patty’s probably already called him and I didn’t want to make it… worse,” Auston stutters, “Is someone with you? I can go.”

“It’s just Jonny,” Kaner tells him, and right. They’re a thing. He remembers Kaner calling Jonny before he went to bed both nights of All Star weekend, telling Auston so easily, “We’re like, the worst kept secret in the league, man. Jonny and I’ve been a thing since ‘15.” 

“Oh, okay.” Auston says, gnawing at his thumb nail, “Tell him I said hello.”

“Matts says hello.” He hears Kaner whisper, then, “Jonny says hi.”

“Right, okay well I guess I should-” he peers around his empty kitchen and is struck with a reminder that now he can’t go to Patty’s when he can’t sleep. Because Patty’s been traded. He says, defeated, “I guess I should go.”

Kaner makes a soft, sympathetic noise on the other line. “You sure you don’t want to talk to Marner? I thought you two were best buds.”

“He’s got Willy,” Auston whispers before he can stop himself, and he’s horrified with himself for being so selfish, but he can’t shut his mouth, “and Zach, and Freddie, and-”

“Auston,” Kaner croons, gentle, “You’ve got them, too. They’re not just Marner’s teammates. They’re yours, too.”

“I know, but- but he deserves someone to go to. He needs someone to be there for him that isn’t wallowing in his own grief.” 

“And you don’t?”

Auston flinches when he tastes blood, and he pulls his hand away from his mouth to see he’s bleeding where his skin meets thumbnail. “I…”

He hears another shuffle, before quiet back-and-forth whispering that he can’t make out. 

Eventually, Kaner comes back, “Would you like to stay with us for a bit?”

Auston blinks in surprise, taken aback by the request. “What?”

“Jonny and I both just got back to Chicago today. Neither of us have any plans to travel until the convention come the end of July, so why don’t you come down for a bit? We can force Jonny to celebrate 4th of July and you can get away.”

He hears an indignant ‘hey’ in the background, and it’s enough to make Auston crack a smile and the domesticity of it. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden.” 

“Jonny was the one who suggested it. Agree before he changes his mind.”

There’s another squawk of protest, and Auston laughs through his tears. “Yeah. Okay- yeah. That sounds good.”


Auston’s on a plane to Chicago the next day. 

Once he’d gotten off the phone with Kaner, he’d passed out on his sofa pretty quickly afterwards. He called Mitch when he’d woken up, and they’d cried about Patty leaving together, before he packed his bags for a week and bought a ticket to Chicago.

Patrick and Jonny are waiting for him when he gets off the plane. They greet him with two, tight hugs, before ushering him out of the airport before too many people spotted them.

“You hungry?” Patrick asks from shotgun, turning in his seat to look back at Auston. When he nods, Jonny says, “Pick a place and we’ll stop there before we head to the apartment. It’s on us.”

Auston chooses the nearest Chinese place. He clutches the large to-go bag like his life depends on it the entire drive to Kaner’s apartment.

He settles himself on the couch with his box of sweet and sour chicken, and a separate box of fried rice. Patrick follows suit and flops down beside him. Jonny, on the other hand, puts his food on a plate like a civilized person.

“Bring the fortune cookies!” Patrick hollers, grabbing the remote off the coffee table to turn on Netflix, “Oh, and a blanket!”

“Two blankets.” Auston says, and Patrick nudges him with a proud smile, as if bossing Jonny around was worth a gold star.

“Pushy pushy.” Jonny scoffs, but brings back two fuzzy blankets and a couple of pillows.

Patrick beams at him, “You're the best.”

Jonny just hums, like he knows, and joins them on the couch. 

For the next few hours, Patrick tries to distract Auston with movies and tv shows, avoiding any talk about hockey or the Leafs, but Auston’s still sagged beside him, nothing but a sad little ball of grief.

He breaks when Patrick asks if he needs anything. He knows Patrick only meant if Auston needed any food or drinks or anything like that, but he just wants things to go back to normal, wants to know his friend is going to be back in Toronto when he comes home, but knows that he won’t be. 

A sob rips from his throat before he can stop it, and then Auston finds himself crying into his knees on the sofa in the middle of Patrick Kane’s living room.

Patrick wraps his arms around Auston, tugs him close and rubs his hands up and down Auston’s arms in comfort. He rocks them, laying his cheek against Auston’s hair as he tries to calm the younger athlete down.

Jonny gives them space, because right now, Auston’s really only close to Kaner. He came to Patrick for comfort, and went to Patrick’s home to get away. He’ll come to Jonny when he needs him.

He makes a batch of hot chocolate despite the fact that it’s summertime. Kaner loves his hot chocolate, so maybe Auston will too.

He brings two snowman mugs out once it’s done, and carefully sits next to Auston. He hands one mug to Patrick, then puts a gentle hand on Auston’s shoulder, “You want some hot chocolate?”

Auston sniffles and lifts his head, curious.

“Tazer makes the best hot chocolate,” Patrick tells him, “You should try some.”

He takes the mug being offered, then takes a tentative sip. He’s pleasantly surprised. It’s not watery, but thick with chocolate. Two big marshmallows and four small ones decorate the top. It’s good.

He says as much, and Jonny smiles proudly. “Thank you. There’s plenty more if you want extra.”

“And when that’s gone, we’ll make him make some more.” Patrick grins at his boyfriend. Jonny rolls his eyes, but promises to do so.

Despite their continuous assurance that Auston was more than welcome to sleep in the guest room, Auston really doesn’t feel like leaving the comfort of their blanket/pillow nest on the couch, and therefore keeps his ass planted on the sofa.

He wakes up in the morning to quiet chatter in the kitchen — the only barrier between the kitchen and living room is the bar and countertop dividing the two rooms, so he can see Jonny and Kaner puttering around the kitchen as they cook breakfast.

Auston watches as they talk, as Jonny flips pancakes over the griddle, probably chirping Patrick about something considering the enraged look on his face. Most of his anger is fake, though, Auston can tell, and he’s proven right when Patrick dissolves into quiet laughter moments later, pinching Jonny on his asscheek.

Jonny jumps and swats Patrick with a spatula, and Auston faintly hears him respond with, “Yeah, harder baby.”

Auston feels his chest clench at the sight of them, happy and easy with each other. He gets up, deciding that if he’s going to be staying here, he should at least help out. 

But Auston takes one step into the kitchen, and Patrick’s pointing a whisk at him and demanding, “You go right back to that couch, mister. We’re doting the fuck out of you, and you have absolutely no say in the matter.”

Auston looks to Jonny for help, but he gets no help whatsoever, just a grin and a shrug, before turning and going back to the stove. 

Auston whines, “C’mon, let me help. I feel bad for taking over your living room.”

“Shoo.” Patrick snuffs and waves him away. Auston retreats back to the couch.

They eat breakfast in peace, with Patrick wrapped around him, bringing him comfort. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep again, especially in the middle of the breakfast thag Jonny and Kaner made him, but he’s just so tired, and he knocks out after only a few minutes of eating.

When he wakes up again, Jonny’s holding him instead, and Patrick’s leaning over to kiss Jonny hello, grocery bags on his arms.

“Hey,” Jonny murmurs, kissing Patrick again, “You get the stuff for dinner?”

“Mhm, guess what else I got.”

“If you say gush-”


Jonny rolls his eyes but kisses him again, eyes dropping down to Auston when he makes an involuntary noise. “You’re awake.”

Auston nods, cheeks warm from being caught watching. Patrick only ruffles his hair and says, “More hot chocolate?”

Jonny laughs at the excitement that lights up in Auston’s eyes. “You two will be the death of me.”

Chapter Text

So Patrick gets angry and curses and uses like “god” or something, and every time Jonny comes down to see why he was summoned and lo and behold it’s this idiot again. Stubbed his fucking toe for the fourth time this week.

Jonny’s always like “it better not be-” and then being mad when it’s Kaner. But then he slowly warms up to him, all the while going “this fucking gorgeous idiot” or “this stupidly pretty moron.”

He doesn’t even realize what he’s saying until Poseidon’s like “go speak with him, young one” and Artemis jumps out from behind a throne and says “GO GET HIM YOU VEGETABLE GROWING MANIAC”

So one day Patrick walks himself into a wall because he’s a moron. 

What else is new.

And he curses up a storm, using the term “god” and poof there’s Jonny. 

And Jonny’s like okokok I’ve got this. I can do this.

So makes himself visible to Patrick, who screams — because who is this man that just blinked into existence — and Jonny screams too and then teleports back to Olympus. 

Sharpy's waiting at the entrance, ready to chirp him too. "Wow... you two really are meant for each other.”

Jonny tries to strangle him with magic vines, but Hades stops him. “I don’t want him.”

Jonny’s summoned three days later, and when he blinks his eyes open, he’s standing in Patrick’s bedroom. Patrick’s staring at the door like he expects Jonny to just walk inside or something. Jonny’s too nervous to do anything.

After a while, Patrick sighs, defeated, shoulders slumped sadly. Mumbling stuff under his breath in disappointment, and Jonny just- he can’t. 

So he lets himself be visible.

Patrick chippers up immediately. He startled at first, because Jonny’s just suddenly there. But then he realizes that he’s not going insane and he’s actually real, and becomes very very happy. He just breathes out in awe, “You’re real.”

And Jonny has no social skills, like, whatsoever. He’s the god of harvest and leafy things, okay? He doesn’t get out much.

So he just says, “Hi,” really dumbly, and wants to facepalm, but Patrick looks more and more mesmerized the longer he stands there.

Pat just goes “I’m Patrick.”

“I know” and now Jonny just wants to slap himself. Because, ‘I know’? Seriously? He’s such a sweet talker, really.

Patrick’s eyes just get really wide, like, “You do? Do you watch me? Shit you watch me. I’m really sorry about all those late night jerk off sessions. They happen more than I plan on.”

And Jonny just — ugh. He cAnt with this kid. 

His brain is still stuck on “late night jerk sessions,” and is blushing like the tomatoes he grows and forces the little Italian village he watches over to eat the damn tomatoes, okay, they’re fucking good for you. 

“Uh.” Jonny says intelligently.

Pat starts stammering out apologies too probably, turning red himself, then Jonny shakes himself out of it and steps closer to Patrick. “No no it’s okay. I promise it’s fine. I don’t watch that stuff, I just... I...” and he quickly loses his nerve again.

And then Patrick’s sliding off the bed and standing in front of Jonny. He’s a good five inches shorter or so, with bright blue eyes that remind Jonny of spring days when the cherry blossoms are in full bloom.

Patrick reaches out, cautious, and pokes Jonny’s arm (just to see if he’s real). And he IS, and Patrick flings himself backwards and ends up in an embarrassed ball of limbs and curls leaned up against the edge of his bed.

“What are you?”

Jonny flinches when Patrick touches him, but only because he didn’t expect to like Patrick’s touch as much as he does. He forces himself to settle down, because he’s a god for goodness sake. People fear him. “If you really wanna know I’ll tell you. But I don’t want to scare you.”

And then he lifts his hands up, trying and failing to look as intimidating. 

Patrick seems interested anyways. “What are you.” 

So Jonny tells him, “I am Jonaviah, God of the Harvest and the Autumn.”

Patrick scrunches his nose up, “Jonaviah?”

Jonny nods, like he expected that. “Yes, Jonaviah. But you can call me Jonny.”

Patrick just, like, brightens at the words. “Really?”

Jonny can’t help but smile at him, “Really.”

“Nice to meet you... Jonny,” Patrick says, testing it out. And based on Jonny’s reaction, he seems to like that so he says it again.

Meanwhile Jonny’s grinning, loving how his name sounds rolling off of Patrick’s tongue.


He’s supposed to be a god and is not as willing to give into his urges like the other gods tend to do but clearly placing Pat in front of him is a good way to get him to go back on everything.

He’s not Zeus, for goodness sake. He can keep it in his pants.

(He doesn’t know if he can keep it in his pants.)

Ahem. Anyways

So they talk for a bit. And then suddenly it’s night and Jonny has to go back to Olympus, but upon seeing Pat’s put out face, promises to return as soon as he can.

Patrick wakes the next morning and builds a fucking vegetable garden in his backyard. 

Because maybe.

Maybe Jonny will come back sooner.

And help him.

Jonny doesn’t come for fourteen days. It’s just reached the beginning of September when he reappears, waiting patiently by the edge of the pitiful looking garden when Patrick gets back from the gardening store. 

Patrick just glares at him, how dare he stand there looking like a Greek go- oh wait, he is . Oops.

Pat rolls his eyes at himself and walks over, acting as if Jonny’s absence didn’t bother him when in fact he was waiting and never stopped.

Jonny knows he’s been waiting, been looking in on him whenever he could, and kindly doesn’t say so. He’s been wishing he could go down and visit, but he’s been too busy with the upcoming harvest. 

“I’m sorry I’ve taken so long.” He says, adjusting the strings of his tunic. “I hope you still wish for my company.”

He tries to play off his nerves with maturity, but let's be honest. None of the gods are mature.

Patrick catches him doing that, and is a little surprised actually. A Greek god? Nervous? Over him?

“Are you... are you nervous? Over me? A mortal?” Patrick saw him fiddling with the strings but he can’t help but ask

Jonny freezes, deer-caught-in-headlights, before nodding and shyly. 

Patrick is even more endeared to him. This Greek god just acting like a boy with a crush because Patrick makes him nervous. He leans forward cautiously, letting Jonny see him reaching out before he takes Jonny’s hand in his. 

“Hey hey it’s okay,” he says and gives his most gentle smile, letting Jonny know he can relax around him. 

Jonny smiles sheepishly, intertwining their fingers. “You’re very beautiful.” He says, almost like an afterthought.

Patrick goes pink. Jonny smiles more and takes some of the little chub of cheek between his fingers in a pinch. Patrick glares, curls falling into his face. He’s a picture to see — fierce and tiny — but Jonny knows that Patrick can have men at his feet with just one look.

“I’m quite interested in this garden of yours.” Jonny says, stepping past him and over to the garden. He hears Patrick sigh in an over dramatic fashion, before following to listen to Jonny teach.

Jonny smiles at every attempt to grab his hand while they pull up weeds and dig in the dirt, and thinks, yeah, he can live with this. 

Chapter Text

Patrick should have known as soon as he saw the look.

They’re getting on their flight to Germany for the Global Series, and Jonny’s got this secret lil grin on his face, and Pat’s like, “wtf is that.”

He doesn’t get his answer until an hour into the flight, when there’s a blanket draped over their laps and the armrest between them is up because they were holding hands like the cliche little shits they are.

And suddenly Jonny’s hand isn’t holding his anymore, but instead is sliding under the blanket to rub at his abs.

Pat jerks, startled, but settles. For a moment, he thinks Jonny’s just giving him a belly rub, like he will sometimes when Patrick’s eaten too much and gets all lazy and sleepy, so Jonny cuddles him and rubs his stomach all romantically. 

He realizes he’s wrong, however, when his hand slips lower to play at his waistband. He looks over at Jonny with a dawning realization he’s not sure how to feel about.

Jonny, frankly, does not give a shit about how Patrick’s feeling about it. He uses his free hand to scroll through his phone while the other is promptly shoved beneath the waistband of Pat’s joggers and takes his cock in his hand. 

Kaner will forever deny that he squeaked, but that’s what happens when your mischievous boyfriend decides it’s time for sexy times in the at the start of a long flight in the middle of a plane filled with all of their teammates sitting close by.

Seabs and Duncs look over with a raised eyebrow but Kaner shakes his head in a “I’m fine” gesture. When they look away, Patrick shoots Jonny the death glare. 

Jonny sees, doesn’t react, but tightens his grip ever so slightly. He carries on as if nothing’s happening, even going as far to strike up a conversation with Shawzy, and that’s just rude , because one little topic can have him yapping for hours.

They have an entire thirty minute conversation about Donald fucking Trump, and Patrick cannot believe he’s about to come in the middle of the plane, surrounded by his teammates while the man who’s got a hand on his dick is talking about Trump’s impeachment request drama. 

Jonny can hear when Patrick gets close, the little hitches in his breath on each inhale, the minute jerk of his hips into Jonny’s hold. Patrick’s fingers tighten against Jonny’s bicep. 

So Jonny, being the lovely boyfriend he is, takes his hand off Pat’s dick and settles it against his thigh. Strokes up and down his thigh gently, trying to soothe him and calm him down. Patrick glares at him meanly, but his breathing evens out enough to the point where Jonny knows he can keep going. 

It takes three times of Jonny staring and stopping right before Patrick crests over, for Patrick to realize that Jonny’s trying to edge him, force him to sit there and take it and hold back an orgasm without Jonny stopping.

And Jonny thinks he can’t do it, which makes Patrick’s chest flare with competitiveness. 

So he starts focusing and trying to block out everything, trying to hold himself back. 

It feels fantastic, having Jonny’s big hand jerking his dick, calluses giving pinching pains that he loves so much. He breathes through it, eyes closed so he doesn’t see Jonny’s face, the knowledge behind the nonchalance in his eyes and his actions. He can hear some of his teammates ask if he’s asleep. 

Jonny mercifully tells them that they should let him sleep, but not mercifully tells them he had a long night. Patrick’s dick jerks at the reminder, muscles tending to keep from moving. He’s so getting Jonny back for this when they get to the hotel. 

He lets out a slow breath, feeling extremely close to the edge once again and hoping this time Jonny doesn’t stop. That he keeps going and lets him come. 

Patrick pries his eyes open, and Jonny sees the desperation in them. He keeps his face stoic and doesn’t react when he tightens his grip on every upstroke and speeds up his hand. 

Patrick’s breath hitches and he tightens his own hand on Jonny’s bicep, the other one gripping tightly at Jonny’s moving arm. Jonny leans in close, enough to where Patrick can hide his face in Jonny’s neck so the guys can’t see him. 

Jonny nips at Patrick’s ear, stroking faster. “Think you deserve to come?” 

Patrick takes a glance down at the watch on his wrist and, oh. It’s been three hours. 

And Patrick- he needs to. It’s been hours since Jonny started this little game, and Patrick can’t stand it any longer. He nods, jerky movements, but it’s not enough for Jonny, who says, “Use your words, baby.”

Patrick can’t talk, is the thing, too overwhelmed with the overpowering feeling. Patrick’s a hair away from falling over the edge, hips jolting into Jonny’s fist. Jonny presses a soft, chapped-lip kiss to Patrick’s temple, drags his hand up Patrick’s shaft, and lets go.

Patrick whimpers, feeling his eyes sting with tears of desperation. Jonny noses his way to Patrick’s ear, “We’re only halfway through the flight, baby.” He puts his and Patrick’s seats back, then tucks Patrick into his side, hand settling against his abs. 

“We’ve still got a ways to go.”

Chapter Text

So the baby’s got Pat’s curly hair, and Jonny’s shark eyes, and he just takes to Pat and doesn’t wanna let go.

He doesn’t like noise. When Pat and Jonny take him out for walks, one of them has to have him strapped up against their chest so that he’s got a safe place to snuggle into if he hears loud noises. 

And he l o v e s that space between Pat’s neck and collar bone where he can tuck his face in and sleep. And gum at the skin. And drool. And feel safe. 

And Jonny at first is like “...but why” kinda sad because he knows his baby boy loves him but he wants to have that love that he gives Pat. 

But then they find out Pat’s pregnant with another baby, and the second baby loves Jonny and loves her big brother and loves activity and big boom sounds. She’s completely Patrick 2.0.

But baby number one finds his baby sister intriguing and as much as he doesn’t like touch (other than Pat and sometimes Jonny) it’s a must every morning to kiss the new baby and make sure everything is alright in newborn world before curling up in Patrick’s neck to watch baby tv and suck on his fingers. He has a very busy agenda.

So Jonny has to be in little girl’s line of sight or else the world is coming to an end and the sky is turning purple. As soon as she’s done nursing, she must be scooped up by Papa and cuddled so she can settle in for her six hour nap. It’s priority.

And then one day, Jonny gets sick.

It’s just a minor cold, but because of the babies’ weak immune system, he quarantines himself in the guest bedroom so he doesn’t get his tiny babies sick. And little girl is not having it. So big brother has to come to the rescue to comfort her.

And that’s where Pat finds the babies later, big brother curled around baby sis as they nap. He sends a picture to Jonny, who sends back a litany of multicolored hearts and heart eyes. 

But then Patrick gets a text from Sharpy in the same thread and realizes his mistake.

He texted the group chat.

Jonny laid out sick in bed with Patrick juggling two screaming babies because they both forgot to silence their phones and they both blew up with texts, effectively waking the babies. 

But luckily they have the best friends ever and they receive multiple gift boxes filled with baby stuffs and. Uh. Adult stuffs.

(Brinksy really wants them to have another baby so that he can get in on the lovin’.)

And then hallelujah Jonny gets better. He walks down the hall freshly showered and no longer sick, and little girl rips herself away from where she’s nursing and screeches until Jonny sits down next to Patrick and lets her hold his finger so she can finish. 

She’s basically like “ Papa’s back I want Papa give him to me now .”

Big brother just watches, chewing on his fingers and mushy Cheerios, intrigued. 

Chapter Text

The windows are open, bringing in warm sunlight and the crisp autumn air from the outside. It’s a cool breeze that wakes Patrick, pulls him from a deep sleep where he’s bundled in blankets with his nose shoved underneath the edge of the duvet. 

It’s instinct when he raises a hand to bat away whatever woke him up, which is only then when he realizes that he can’t bat away the air. He turns his head, grumbling his annoyance, and peers out the window. 

It’s bright out, maybe too bright. Most of the leaves have fallen off of the big oak tree in the center of Jonny’s front yard, scattered across the grass in shades of browns and yellows and reds. It’s October, but if Patrick squints, he thinks he can see a few bees still desperately trying to find living flowers to pollinate. 

Another breeze blows through the open window, pushing the thin drapes into a dance. Jonny likes sleeping with the windows open, because he runs hot and Patrick hates the fan, and because he’s all eco-friendly and loves the environment. 

The cool air forces goosebumps to rise on Patrick’s skin, so he turns his back to the window and burrows deeper into the blankets. He’s still groggy with sleep, easily one cuddle away from knocking out again and sleeping until noon, but when he reaches out to find Jonny, he can’t. 

Blearily, he opens his eyes to look around. Jonny’s there, on his sacred left spot on the bed, but he’s curled up against the edge of the mattress, rolled into a shivering ball. He doesn’t have a blanket. 

A warmth settles in Patrick’s heart at the thought of Jonny sacrificing his covers so Patrick could be comfortable, but guilt cuts through the daze of tiredness, so he unravels himself from the burrito of blanket and tosses it over the both of them. He smooths it out, making sure Jonny’s edge is hanging over the side of the bed to trap the heat. 

Patrick shuffles over to Jonny, pressing himself against his back and wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’re stupid,” he sighs, curling is legs around Jonny’s knees so he’s wrapped around him like a koala. Slowly, Jonny stops shivering, until he’s relaxed again and subconsciously nuzzling backwards into Patrick’s chest, “but I love you anyway.”

The last leaf falls from the oak tree, catching on the breeze that blows it far, far away. 

Chapter Text

Patrick's toweling off his hands after cooking, when he noticed the small farm house is quiet  — too quiet. He carelessly tossed the handtowel somewhere before calling out to his family. 

There was a cry coming from the den, and Patrick hurried in to tend to his baby. Marie-Laure was six months old, but she was tiny, especially in the pack-n-play she was squirming in. Patrick scooped her up, and she quieted immediately, then promptly attempted to rip out Patrick's hair.

"Where's your father, hm?" He asked her, and she smacked her lips at him in response. He went to the door to the back yard, acres expanding miles and miles past their back porch.

And there, in the tall grasses of the wheat fields, just a few yards away from the apple trees, is Jonny, Jake on his shoulders so he wasn't swallowed by the wheat. Their Golden Labrador, Molly, was bounding excitedly around them.

They'd left home at twenty-six, made their way to the countryside. Away from the people. Away from the judgement. Away from the drama. They'd settled, started a family, and hadn't looked back.

Jonny spotted him leaning against the back doorway, and he threw his hands up to wave. But, he lost his grip on Jake, and the little boy scrambled to latch his hands onto Jonny's neck. Jonny tried to regain balance, but they both go tumbling backwards and disappear into the wheat.

Jake poked his head up a second later, presumably standing on top of his father, "I'm okay!”

Patrick laughed. Jonny stood back up and Jake went tumbling, but Jonny was quick and gathered him in his arms, carried him out of the wheat field and to safety.

He deposited Jake onto the floor. Jake jumped to his feet and latched onto Patrick. "Daddy! Papa and I got the apples!”

Jonathan dug in the pockets of his overalls and pulled out a handful of apples, some of which go rolling onto the deck. Jake did the same and pulled out two more.

Patrick grinned at him. "Nice work buddy!" He looked over at his husband. "I sent you for those apples three hours ago.”

Jonny smiled sheepishly. "He wanted to climb all the trees. He wanted to find the best ones.”

”Only the best apples for Aunt Jackie!”

”Did Aunt Jackie tell you that?”

Jake grinned, “Yes.”

Patrick sighed, but ruffled Jake's hair. "Go on inside. I've made everything but the apple pie.”

Jake cheered and ran into the old farmhouse, making a beeline for the kitchen. Jonny smiled at him, softer this time, and leaned in to kiss him.

Patrick hummed happily, eyes slipping shut. Jonny tasted like sap and apples. It was an interesting combination, but one Pat's gotten used to over the years.

Jonny pulled back and took the baby. Patrick squawked, but was helpless to take her back when she squealed at her father and reached for his nose and eyelashes.

Jonny muttered something to her in French, and that's just not fair. Jonny has no right to be so cute. Pat reached out to take Marie-Laure, but Jonny just held her closer. She pressed her face contently into Jonny's neck.

Patrick pouted, but let himself be tucked into Jonny's side. Molly sat at their feet obediently, waiting for a command, any command, anything at all.

"Daddy! Papa! Come on! There's pies to be baked!" Jake screeched from inside. He came sprinting outside. Patrick opened his arms, and like a magnet, the five year old slipped into them and rested his head against him.

Jonny chuckled. “Are you gonna make the butter tarts this year?”

“Already bakes ‘em, babe.”

Molly barked and bolted off to chase a bird, tearing through the wheat and to the vegetable garden. Marie-Laure giggled from her seat in Jonny's big arms.

Patrick kept them there a moment, taking in the silence, falling even more in love with Jonny than before.

Chapter Text

The sun hasn’t even peeked over the horizon when Jonathan feels a tiny nudge against his paw.


Jonathan pretends he’s still asleep, snoring loudly and overdramatically. The nudge only gets more insistent, a tiny voice repeating, Dad, Dad, Dad. Dad, c’mon!

Your son is awake, Patrick says from next to him, voice drowsy with the early morning.

Before sunrise, he is your son, Jonathan grumbles, tossing a heavy paw over his nose.

Makaio rams his face into Jonathan’s head again, Daaaaaaad, I want to see the sunrise!

Patrick lifts his head, and Makaio crawls under his chin and rubs against it. Mama, do something!

Jonathan groans and heaves himself up, starting with his rear as he stretches. Alright, alright. I am up.

Makaio cheers and races out of the den as fast as his little legs can carry him. He’s seven months old now, growing bigger by the day. 

He turns to his mate, who’s struggling to his feet. Jonathan hurriedly puts his nose under his chest to help Patrick balance. He’s heavy with Jonathan’s child again, and is finding less and less energy every day, too content to roll into a ball in their nest until their cub arrives.

Don’t harm yourself, darling, Jon says, walking alongside Patrick as they follow their son outside to the tip of the rocks. The sky is still a dark navy blue, with stars splattered across the night sky, but it’s lighter at the horizon, barely a peek of yellow, but there nevertheless.

Patrick lays down again, rests his chin on his paws as he peers over sleepily at his mate, who is trying to wrestle with their cub. Makaio tires out eventually, and settles himself against his father’s bushy mane, teeth still gently gnawing on Jonathan’s ear.

Jonathan lays down beside Patrick and bundles him up into his embrace with his legs. He rests a single, careful paw on the swell of the bump where their cub is incubating, watching the sun peek out from over the horizon as the savannah starts waking up for another day.