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What Happened to His Sweater

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Patrick was smiling when he woke up. Morning light was creeping through the blinds; he could hear birds chirping outside the window; and he was as giddy as a kid on Christmas morning. Because sprawled out beside him, head resting in the crook of Patrick’s arm, with a leg flung over his thigh and hand on his chest, was a sleeping David Rose. Naked. Because last night, they’d finally gotten a night to themselves. Thank you, Stevie. He’d finally gotten to see—more than just see—his boy-…his, um, well…David naked. Patrick was too busy basking in the afterglow to get caught up in worrying about labelling the relationship; that was a conversation waiting for future Patrick and David. 

He slid his palm across David’s back and nuzzled his face into David’s mussed, raven hair, pressing a delicate kiss to his lover’s temple. Patrick delighted in this completely new experience of David—peaceful, still. This beautiful man, whose creative mind was in a state of near perpetual motion, always juggling a thousand thoughts at once, was at rest. Snoring. OK, and maybe drooling a just a little bit on Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick, grinning dopily, wrapped his other arm around David’s body and snuggled in closer. He had it so bad for his business partner. 

“Nmngh,” David mewled into Patrick’s chest, and turned to bury his face further in the crook of Patrick’s arm, instinctively drawing himself tighter into Patrick’s embrace. David’s thigh brushed against Patrick’s dick, already half-hard just from the proximity, and Patrick couldn’t keep his hips from bucking. And oh. Oh wow. Patrick could feel David’s dick starting to show signs of life as he lay against him. Yes please, he thought, hungrily, and started drawing lazy circles along the muscular expanse of David’s back. “David?” he whispered, feathering kisses along the top of David’s head, “good morning, beautiful.” David’s face remained buried in Patricks’ armpit, but he started slowly grinding his cock against Patrick’s hip. 

Patrick let his hand glide down David’s back, let his fingertips brush along the dark hair along his ass. David  David was self-conscious about his body hair and just last night had made some self-deprecating comments about needing a wax, but holy fuck, Patrick couldn’t for the life of him see the problem. He liked the hair on David’s body. He more than liked it. Patrick opened his hand wide and just squeezed David’s ass. Holy fucking Christ, he wanted this man. Wanted him more than he had ever imagined. 

By this point, his own cock was rock hard and leaking, his hips moving in a slow roll so that he could enjoy the gentle friction of the sheet against him. “Oh god, David,” he couldn’t help but moan. He was so hard, needed it, needed David so badly. If David wasn’t going to wake up, Patrick would need to take matters into his own hands. He lay there, horny and flustered, for way too many minutes, deliberating his next course of action. He wanted David’s mouth on him again; he wanted to try sucking David off again—fuck, did he want that—but David “Not a Morning Person” Rose was sleeping soundly. His dick was right there. It would be so easy just to move down and lick it…but Patrick didn’t want to do anything that might make David feel uncomfortable. Wake up, David. Please?

At long last, Patrick began disentangling himself from the sexy human octopus currently wrapped around his body so that he could go and finish himself off in the shower. And ok, maybe he sighed a little bit too loud as he moved, and maybe he walked just a tiny bit slower than usual in the hopes that David would wake up and ravish him. And just maybe he let out a strangled little whine when David started rutting against the mattress in his sleep. But really, looking at that ass, who could blame him for whimpering a little? 

While he waited for the shower to heat up, Patrick took a long look at himself in the mirror. He pressed the pads of two fingers against what was left of yesterday’s half hickey on his neck, and, if he were being honest with himself, was a little disappointed that it had already faded to the point it was barely detectable. Even if it wasn’t professional, it was a reminder that David wanted him, that David wanted to claim him so that anyone could see. His cock twitched at the thrill of it, and he couldn’t help but grin at the thought. 

Thankfully, he had other reminders from last night. He traced his fingers down along the series of small and not-so-small marks on his torso. The deep crimson bruise just below his collarbone—“Don’t worry, Mr. Brewer,” David had purred, “I’ll keep everything very professional”—the faint bite mark around his right nipple, the trail of little purple spots down his stomach. Remembering how David had grabbed his ass while swallowing his dick, he turned to investigate, pleased to see four crescents seared into the flesh of both cheeks. Yes, Patrick decided, I really like when David leaves marks. 

The mirror had started to fog up from the heat of the shower, but before he got in, Patrick ducked his head outside the bathroom, just to check. David had spread out across the width of the bed and was snoring soundly. Shit. 

He got into the shower and made quick work of cleaning himself with Stevie’s Rose Apothecary basil lemongrass body wash. As he rubbed the lather over his hair, Patrick chuckled; David would probably hyperventilate if he saw Patrick washing his hair with body wash. David probably had a special shampoo and deep conditioner for his gorgeous black hair. He stepped back and leaned back, letting the water stream over his head. He brought his hand down to his still half-hard dick and began to stroke. Thinking of David teasing him last night, licking and sucking along his hipbones, down his thighs. The feeling of David taking him into his mouth for the first time, his tongue pressing against the sensitive ridge of his cockhead. David looking up at him through dark lashes, his pupils blown with lust, as he took Patrick’s full length down for the first time. Fuck. Patrick had never felt anything like it; he groaned at the memory and jerked himself faster. He rested the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes as he fucked his fist. “Fuck, David,” he whimpered. He was close. So so close.

“Mmmm, you shouldn’t have started without me,” Patrick’s eyes flew open in a sensory overload—the sudden burst of cool air on his skin as the shower door opened; David’s sleep-husky drawl as he stepped into the shower. He drew those large hands up Patrick’s biceps and wrapped his arms around his neck, murmuring, “Good morning, handsome,” and leaned in for a kiss. Patrick let go of his confused and leaking boner so that he could snake his arms around David. He sighed into David’s mouth at the sensation of David’s erection sliding against his own. “Mmmmm….good morning, sleepyhead.” He licked into David’s mouth, let his hands slide down to squeeze David’s ass. 

They stayed like that, mouths and hands exploring each other as they rocked their hips together, until the water started to run cool. “Can we…” Patrick started to ask, but David had already grabbed him by the hand, pulling him out of the shower and back toward the bed. Neither man was willing to stop touching, holding, kissing long enough to grab a towel, so they dripped their way across Stevie’s apartment until they landed on the rumpled sheets, a hot, wet, writhing tangle of limbs. Patrick found himself on his back with one of David’s legs once again draped across his hips, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel the full force of David’s weight on top of him, pressing him into the mattress, holding him strong and firm. 

“David…I want…I need—,” Patrick couldn’t keep his mouth away from David’s long enough to form a coherent sentence, even if he could have managed to formulate the words for what he wanted. If he even knew what he wanted in that moment. He was feeling things with and for David he’d never dreamt possible; he was starting to realize that there was a whole new world of possibilities to explore with David. And he didn’t know where to begin. 

“Don’t worry; I’ve got you,” David mouthed the words against Patrick’s jaw, then licked the shell of his ear as he traced a fingertip down to Patrick’s chest. He teased at Patrick’s nipples, barely glancing his finger over one, then the other before continuing to graze down his stomach. Patrick’s hips bucked uncontrollably as David’s hand brushed his pubic hair. David closed his wet fist around Patrick’s cock and squeezed, grinning when it elicited another involuntary jerk from Patrick’s hips. He cooed, “Gonna make you feel so good, baby,” and Patrick just melted. Brain overload, full body shudder, groaning against David’s shoulder. Baby, he was reeling at it, he called me baby. Patrick bit down, and was pleased to feel David’s own shuddering, groaning response. He followed up the bite with soothing licks and suction, wanting to claim David as his. 

David let go of Patrick’s dick and let his hand slide down to cup his balls gently. “Can I try something?” he murmured, nuzzling his nose into the short hair above Patrick’s ear as he grazed a single fingertip along his perineum. 

Fuck. it was like an electric current was pulsing from his crotch throughout his whole body; he felt his back arch and his toes curl in pleasure. “Uh-huh,” Patrick needed to clear his throat a couple of times because suddenly, making words was something his brain didn’t know it could do. “Please, David. Yes. Pleasepleasepleaseplease—” his voice fading into a choked gasp. He didn’t know what, exactly, he was begging for, but oh god, he had never wanted anything more.  

David pushed himself up from Patrick and looked down at him, eyes twinkling with fondness. “Mmmm, since you said please,” he teased, and started to feather kisses down the length of Patrick’s body, stopping occasionally to work over the marks from last night. 

Patrick squirmed and moaned, relishing in the sensation of David exploring his body. David settled himself between Patrick’s legs. He slipped his hands underneath Patrick’s thighs and gently guided him to bend his knees, to plant his feet. He kept his mouth close to Patrick’s dick, teasing him with the warmth of his breath, careful not to touch, even as Patrick tried to move his cock to David’s mouth. “Please, David…” Patrick was whining and didn’t care. Not one damn bit. He wanted more. He needed more. 

“Lift your hips,” Patrick obeyed David’s command and felt him slide a pillow underneath him. As he started to settle down onto the pillow, David licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, making him buck up again. Patrick threaded his fingers through David’s wet hair as his hips moved, apparently of their own volition. 

David lavished sloppy, open-mouthed kisses down his shaft, licked at his balls, pausing to take one, then the other, into his mouth. Then he brought a single finger back to Patrick’s taint, pressing softly. “Is this ok?” he asked, pulling his mouth far enough away to get Patrick’s immediate, petulant attention. 

“Oh god yes please,” Patrick groaned as he looked down at David between his thighs, the sexiest goddamn thing he’d ever seen. He lifted his hips, moving instinctively toward David’s mouth. “Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” wanting David’s lips, his tongue, his teeth, his everything.  Why wasn’t David’s mouth on him anymore? 

“Tell me if I need to stop, ok?” David hesitated, waiting patiently—more patiently than Patrick could have been in that moment—for Patrick to voice a response, “Patrick? Answer me.” 

“Yes. Yes, I’ll tell you,” Patrick let out a frustrated groan, “Please…stop talking. Need your mouth. Now.” The desperation in his voice, his body, surprised Patrick. It was never like this before. He’d never felt like this. 

David nuzzled the crease of Patrick’s thigh, his breath searing along the the sensitive skin of Patrick’s taint. He pressed a soft kiss into Patrick’s inner thigh, nibbling and sucking and teasing, and gently pushed the backs of Patrick’s thighs up toward his torso. Patrick watched, fascinated, as David brought his mouth to his asshole, circling the rim with the tip of his tongue. Oh my god, he was buffering again, brain temporarily offline, overwhelmed by the newness, the naughtiness, the intensity of the sensation. David followed up by blowing lightly along the same path. Oh my fucking god, his eyes fluttered closed with pleasure, but Patrick forced them back open. He wanted to see what David was doing; he wanted to watch as David tore him apart. David smirked up at him, and without breaking eye contact, gave a greedy, wet lick to Patrick’s hole. 

“Unnghhh,” Patrick’s back arched as he voiced his wordless pleasure; words just weren’t gonna happen right now. David laved the sensitive puckered skin of Patrick’s hole, alternating messy, open-mouthed kisses, nibbling and sucking along the rim. “You’ve got such a pretty pink hole,” he muttered as Patrick writhed beneath him, hands fisting the sheets, “wanna feel you open up.” And with that, David speared the tip of his tongue inside. 

Patrick felt himself relaxing around David’s tongue, and just gave himself over to pleasure. David wiggled his tongue deeper inside, giving Patrick the naughtiest, most delicious French kiss ever. He felt like he might explode, like he was gonna die, like he never wanted it to end. David started fucking him with his tongue, and oh fuck, so good. It’s so so good. But then it wasn’t; David’s tongue was gone and Patrick felt goddamned lost without it, but then David’s mouth was back on his hole, kissing and sucking and licking and Patrick felt the tip of a finger slipping inside. Fuck me, maybe he just thought it or maybe he said it out loud to David; Patrick was too caught up in pleasure to be sure. Fuck. David slid a little deeper into him and then holy mother of fucking FUCK. He gasped; his whole body jerked. “That’s the spot,” David moved his finger inside Patrick, toying with different pressure as he massaged his prostate, smiling as he felt Patrick fall apart beneath him. 

“Oh fuck, David,” Patrick’s voice was desperate. “Fuck. I’m gonna…I need to—” he gave his palm a messy lick and brought his hand to his leaking cock. “That’s it, baby,” David crooned at him between sloppy licks around Patrick’s asshole. “Make yourself feel good. Wanna feel you come from the inside.” 

Patrick jerked himself frantically, utterly overwhelmed by everything he was feeling. “I’m gonna…I’m gon—,” and then he was coming, thick ribbons shooting over his hand and onto his stomach and chest as he shuddered with the intensity of his orgasm. He lay there, his whole body quivering, as he came down from his sex high. So good. So fucking good. And maybe he blacked out or had an out of body experience or something because the next thing Patrick knew David was licking along his stomach and he couldn’t remember how or when he took his finger out of Patrick’s ass. David carefully licked up Patrick’s come as he made his way back up the bed. Fuck, Patrick thought, David was so fucking hot as he lapped up his come. 

“Don’t swallow,” Patrick growled as he pulled David close, crashing their mouths together. He thrust his tongue into David’s mouth, seeking out the taste of his own release. Since when do I like this kind of stuff? Patrick started to wonder, but then David’s tongue was in his mouth and they were fighting over his come and Patrick wasn’t thinking about anything but yes more good.  

Patrick wrapped his arms and legs around David, drawing him closer closer closer. He wanted to feel David come; he wanted to make David come; he wanted to feel David come inside him. Oh god, he hadn’t realized it until just this moment, but he knew he wanted David to fuck him and he wanted it to happen soon, dammit. 

David was rutting against him, movements becoming more frantic. Patrick reached blindly for the bottle of lube he knew was somewhere on the bed. David paused what he was doing to aid in the search, and together, they got some into Patrick’s hand. He reached between them and fisted David’s dick. “Your turn, wanna make you come,” he breathed, and David went wild, fucking into Patrick’s grip. Three thrusts later, and he was coming messily between them. Patrick gentled his grip as he worked David through the aftershocks, then brought his hand up to his mouth and gave it a good long lick. He grinned at the hiss that escaped David’s mouth. 

“Clean mouth, my ass,” David chuckled, and then they both broke down into giggles. 

After stripping and replacing the sheets, after a shower where they actually got clean before letting it devolve into another makeout session, after they had finally gotten dressed, they sat on the sofa, Patrick holding David’s hand, tracing delicate circles with his thumb. Patrick was all of a sudden bashful again. Given that David had just had his tongue in Patrick’s ass, it felt silly—childish, really—to be overcome with this shyness. He kept his eyes focused on their hands, following the movements of his thumb. “Thank you, David,” he mumbled, then dared to glance up through his lashes at David’s face. 

David gave him a soft, lopsided smile, “Oh, thank you. I enjoyed that. Do you…do you think you might want to do it again?” Patrick could hear the anxiety in David’s voice. He hated that David’s mind jumped so quickly to the negative, to worrying about regrets. He was determined  to show David that he didn’t need to worry about him, about them. Because Patrick had no regrets; this was right. For the first time in his life, Patrick felt right. 

Oh, I think we’re going to be doing a lot more of that,” he gave David what he hoped was a seductive smile, and leaned in for a kiss, “Among other things, I hope.” David smiled into the next kiss, his whole face lit up at the prospect of the next time, of multiple next times. 

Soon the gentle, teasing kiss had deepened, and Patrick was pulling David down on top of him as he reclined on Stevie’s sofa. He rocked his hips, grinding his hard cock against David. 

“Oh my god…how are you even real? Your dick is like the energizer bunny,” David sassed, eyes crinkling with delight. “I…uh, this is kind of new for me,” he groaned into David’s mouth, letting his fingers comb though David’s still unstyled hair. “I’ve never had this….um, problem before? Usually it was the opposite,” he felt the blush spread across his cheeks, the tops of his ears; his voice got quiet. He hadn’t meant to get this real in the moment, but Patrick was quickly learning that he got a little unpredictable around David. 

“Oh, honey, this is certainly not a problem,” David murmured. “It just means I get to play some more before we go, but you won’t get a turn until later. Some of us are mere humans,” he laughed as he brought one of those big, soft hands between them and made quick work of undoing Patrick’s jeans. Patrick was already rock hard and leaking when David took him in his hand. Seriously, he thought to himself. It’s like I’m a fucking teenager. Only he couldn’t remember ever feeling this intensely back then. In just one night, David had taken everything Patrick thought he knew about wanting and ramped it up to 11. “It’s not gonna take long,” Patrick grunted and thrust himself into David’s fist. 

“Doesn’t have to,” David leaned down for a bruising kiss, licked into his mouth. Patrick sucked on his tongue, making David whimper. 

“You don’t have to last, baby. I just want you to feel good.”

Fuck. David calling him baby just did things for Patrick, and holy shit. He moaned and came between them, spilling over David’s hand. David deftly stroked him through it, only moving his hand away when he felt Patrick tense with over-sensitivity. 

“Oh shit!” Patrick accidentally knocked his head against David’s jaw as he jerked up to seated, “I’m sorry. Your sweater…” There was a very obvious come stain on David’s grey sweater; this was gonna be bad. Shit. “I’m sorry, David.” Patrick’s eyes were glued to the wet spot on David’s , and, to be honest, he was a little afraid to see David’s reaction. 

But he didn’t have to see it. He heard it. 

He heard David’s laughter.

David was laughing at him. 

“You are a button, you know,” David said, fondly, lifting Patrick’s chin with his fingers so that he could look him in the eye. “That was worth a little come stain.” He nudged a shoulder against Patrick’s, and then lifted the sweater over his head. “Next time, I’ll have to bring more clothes, just in case. C’mere,” and pressed a chaste kiss to Patrick’s lips, and then drew him in for hug. “Definitely worth it.” Patrick felt himself melt a little more into the embrace, fall a little harder for the beautiful, wonderful man holding him close.  

A few minutes later, they’d packed almost everything up. David, now wearing last night’s sweater, kissed Patrick on the cheek as he carried his toiletries bag into the bathroom. 

“I just need to fix my hair and then you can take me home.”