“Remember, we are all in for Illinois, hopefully see you at the United Center soon.”
Patrick reaches out and stops the recording on his phone with a tiny smile playing at his lips. It’s just a small thing, but he knows the fans will go crazy for even this short forty second video. He’s already anticipating the texts he’ll get, chirping him for the little fist pump that he threw in there.
He hits send on his tweet and goes to sit back down, looking out the window at the Chicago skyline as his phone starts blowing up with notifications from Twitter. He picks it up and scrolls past all the Twitter notifications to see a single text from Jonny.
So that’s where my grey hoodie went
Patrick looks down at the hoodie and chuckles out a little laugh. He would wear Jonny’s hoodie by mistake the first time he’s seen by the public in over three weeks.
He smiles as he types, it looks better on me anyways. i always look better, ur just jealous
His phone starts to ring with a FaceTime call from Jonny not even a minute after he hits send. He lets it ring for a moment, just to piss Jonny off, and then he slides the ringer to answer the call.
Jonny opens with, “You do always look good, Kaner. Wish I was there with you right now.”
Oh so that’s why Jonny called. No beating around the bush, no pleasantries or small talk, he’s going for what he wants right out of the gate, and Patrick, well, he kind of loves it.
“Oh yeah? What would you do if you were here with me right now, Jonny?” Patrick puts the phone back down where he had it resting, recreating the angle from the video, and sits back in his chair.
Jonny smirks on screen. He’s got the FaceTime call pulled up on his laptop, Patrick can tell from the angle the camera is at. He’s clearly got the curtains in his bedroom pulled shut, the lamp on his nightstand the only light source. He’s sitting in bed with a few pillows bunched up behind his back, one of his favourite white t-shirts pulling tight across his chest. Patrick can’t quite see his legs because they’re just out of frame, but he suspects Jonny’s wearing his favourite grey sweatpants.
“What wouldn’t I do if I were there?” The Jonny on screen shifts on the bed as he talks, trying to get comfortable. “For starters, I’d take back my hoodie,” Jonny says as he sits back, folding his arms across his chest. It makes his biceps bulge and Patrick’s mouth waters a little at the sight.
“That all you want, Jonny? To get your hoodie back?” Patrick smiles, letting his dimples pop out the way he knows Jonny loves.
Jonny rubs a hand across his face. “Miss you so much, Pat. My hand just isn’t the same as your mouth, baby,” he says, and his cheeks pink up a little in the low light of the bedroom as he talks. Patrick wants to lick that flushed skin.
“Miss you too, Jonny. Miss being able to kiss you and touch you. Wanna touch you so bad,” Patrick says and it almost comes out as a whine, sounding needier than he means it to but, who is he kidding, Jonny always knows exactly what he needs.
“Where do you want to touch me, baby? Tell me what you need and I’ll do it to myself and let you watch, let you feel like it’s you touching me,” Jonny pulls off his shirt as he talks, which muffles the sound of his voice for a moment, but it reveals all of his golden brown skin which is a reward in and of itself.
Patrick doesn’t know where to start, he wants so much, he wants everything .
“Push back your laptop so I can see everything,” is what Patrick starts with, and Jonny complies immediately, pushes the laptop back on the bed to reveal his bottom half, which is only covered by a pair of black boxer briefs. He knew what he was doing when he called Patrick.
“Run your hands over your chest and your abs the way I always do, yeah, just like that.”
Jonny takes one hand and slowly runs it across his collarbone and then down over his pectoral to his abs, then back up again.
“Pinch your nipples, Jonny, I know how much you love it when I suck on them.”
Jonny ups the ante, bringing his left thumb to his mouth to suck on for a moment before bringing his hand back to his left nipple and rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat as he does it, and Patrick feels the front of his pants tighten significantly.
Jonny continues to pinch his own nipple as he runs his right hand down towards his waistband. He stops and looks at the camera, saying “You gonna give me a show too, Peeks? Show me what I’m missing?”
Patrick nods in response, sitting back a little further and pushing down his sweats enough to pull out his dick, letting the waistband rest below his balls. His dick slaps up against his stomach where it’s covered by Jonny’s hoodie.
“Take the hoodie off,” Jonny says in his captain’s voice, and Patrick moves quickly to comply, knocking his hat loose in the process. When he has the hoodie off and goes to put down his hat, Jonny stops him. “Leave the hat, I like it.” Patrick puts the hat back on, backwards this time, and sits back with a smirk.
“So we’re gonna give each other a show? Is that what we’re doing here, Taze?” Patrick asks as he slowly starts to jerk himself. It’s just his thumb and index finger on the tip, more of a tease than anything, but he wants this to last.
Jonny nods slightly as he pulls his waistband down, shedding himself of his briefs until he sits back against the headboard, completely naked. He reaches a hand down, past his hard dick, to grab his balls, rolling them between his fingers. “God, want you so bad,” Jonny mumbles with his eyes closed, more to himself than anything, but the mic still picks it up and Patrick hears it loud and clear.
Patrick lets his eyes close, slowly stroking himself to full hardness as he listens to Jonny’s small sounds, until Jonny breaks the silence.
“Do you remember the last time you fucked me over the ping pong table?”
Patrick’s dick jerks in his hand, spurting a small drop of precome onto his stomach. Jesus, Jonny went from zero to sixty real quick here, not that Patrick’s complaining.
He thinks back to the last time. It had been after a game, some horrible overtime loss that neither of them wanted to dwell on. Jonny had followed Pat back to his apartment and grabbed one of his own beers from Patrick’s fridge before parking himself on Patrick’s couch. If he didn’t know any better, Patrick would say Jonny lived there, too.
They sat on the couch, drinking their beer and talking about anything other than the terrible hockey game they had just played, until Jonny had put his beer bottle down on the table and said matter-of-factly, “I want you to fuck me tonight.”
Patrick nearly choked on the mouthful of beer in his mouth. Jonny slapped his back, trying to help him regain some composure.
Jonny was always one to speak his mind, never afraid to ask for what he wants, but Patrick still really hadn’t seen that one coming. He was expecting, at most, that they would trade handjobs and then go to bed. But, who was he to turn down Jonathan Toews and his magnificent ass?
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Patrick had said as he stood up, turning to go down the hall towards his bedroom. Jonny had reached over the back of the couch and caught his forearm, turning him back towards the living room.
“No, I think I want you to fuck me over the ping pong table tonight,” Jonny had said, no question in his words. Patrick got so hard so fast that he had gotten a little light-headed, gripping the back of the couch to steady himself.
They hadn’t done it that way in a while, Jonny complained the last time that the edge of the table left marks on the tops of his thighs for days, and the guys in the room chirped him mercilessly for it. Patrick had thought it was one of the hottest things ever, having Jonny bent over in front of the windows like that, almost as if he was on display.
The idea had come back to Patrick again, thinking about Jonny bending over like that for him. “Yeah, I think I can do that,” he had said, the cockiness in his voice evident. Jonny had rolled his eyes before standing up and pulling down his sweats and underwear in one go. He had reached up and pulled off his sweater, before turning on his heel and walking towards the table, ever confident in his own nakedness.
“Coming?” Jonny had said over his shoulder.
“Yeah, but you’ll be coming harder,” Patrick had replied, chuckling a little at himself. Jonny had huffed out a laugh as he steadied his hands on the table, pushing his hips back. And then there wasn’t much talking at all.
Jonny had taken it so good, arching his back to push his hips into Patrick’s hand, greedy for more. Patrick had slightly rushed through the prep, even though he knew Jonny loved that part, because he needed to get his dick in Jonny yesterday .
He had kept his pants on but taken off his shirt, no time for any more distractions. When he lined himself up with Jonny’s hole, it had been Jonny that reached back and grabbed Patrick’s dick, pushing himself back on it until their hips were flush. The sound Jonny made was almost one of relief, like being filled by Patrick’s dick was exactly what he needed.
Patrick had gripped Jonny’s hips and started thrusting hard, the way he knew Jonny liked. Jonny had sprawled forward, letting himself be flattened to the ping pong table as Patrick continued his pace, plastering his upper body to Jonny’s back so that only his hips were moving. On one particularly hard thrust, Patrick had ground his hips forward into Jonny, pinning him between Patrick and the table. He had kept up the grind against Jonny’s prostate, in, in, in , until Jonny had thrown his head back and come with a shout, slapping the table.
The way Jonny arched so beautifully, almost like a pornstar, had been Patrick’s undoing. He had reached up and gripped the back of Jonny’s neck, pushing his face down into the table as his other hand grasped Jonny’s hip, definitely leaving marks. The sparks that had shot up and down Patrick’s spine made stars dance behind his eyes, and he had questioned how it was always this good.
The pleasure had made Patrick’s arms give out and he let all of his weight rest on top of Jonny, his dick still buried inside him. They had stayed like that for a few moments, until eventually they had started breathing in time with each other. Just another way that they were always in sync.
Patrick had gotten his arms under him and gone to pull out, but Jonny had reached a hand back and grabbed Patrick’s ass, holding him in place.
“Not yet,” Jonny had said. “Just stay for a little while.”
So Patrick had folded himself back over Jonny’s back, laying kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders. Because if Jonny wanted him there, he wasn’t going to leave.
Patrick’s pulled from his own memory by the “ah, ah, ah” sounds Jonny’s making on the screen in front of him.
Jonny’s got his knees bent and feet up off the bed now, one hand holding himself open as the other hand fucks his purple dildo in and out of himself. To make the whole scene even more pornographic, Patrick can actually hear the squelch of the lube that the dildo is making as it disappears inside of Jonny.
“Jesus, Jon,” Patrick says. At the sound of his voice, Jonny’s head turns up and his eyes lock with the camera, as if he’s staring right at Patrick. The hand that’s holding the dildo never falters and it causes Patrick’s own hand to stroke his dick faster.
Jonny’s usually got quite the mouth on him whenever they have sex, always rambling incoherent shit about Patrick and how beautiful he is. Patrick wonders if the camera is making him a little gun shy. And well, that just won’t do; Patrick will just have to get the ball rolling himself.
“Lemme see, baby, lemme see the way you open yourself up for me. You’re doing so good Jonny, looking at that pretty hole taking that cock so well,” is what Patrick starts with. He’s not always vocal in bed, not the way Jonny is, but it’s not like the things he’s saying are lies.
Even in the dim lamp light of the bedroom, Patrick can see the way Jonny flushes at his words. The hand that’s been holding his knee back reaches down and starts to jack his dick in time with the way he’s thrusting the dildo. Patrick feels his balls tighten at the sight.
Jonny’s still not talking though, just stroking and thrusting and moaning like he’s in a porno. Patrick wants to hear his voice, hear all the dirty things he’s thinking.
“Can you reach down and feel where you’re fucking yourself for me, Jonny? Feel how hot and tight your hole is from the way you’re stretching it? I bet I could fuck right in there now and there would be almost no resistance. You’d take me so easily, baby.” Patrick’s own words are turning him on, and he reaches up to pinch one of his own nipples as he continues to stroke himself, feeling his orgasm starting to build at the base of his spine.
Jonny’s hand he’s using to thrust the dildo in and out picks up pace, moving deeper, quicker. He must be hitting his prostate on every stroke, based on the way his head is thrown back on his shoulders and how his eyes have broken contact with the camera.
But he still reaches his free hand down to frame his hole with his index and middle fingers, feeling the way the dildo is pulling at his rim so tightly. Jonny brings that hand up to his mouth a moment later, sucking his middle finger between his lips. It doesn’t take long for the same finger to find itself back down at his hole and Patrick watches in amazement as Jonny pushes the tip of his finger past his rim, so that it’s shoved in alongside the thick dildo.
“Fuck baby, so hot, look at you putting on a show for me,” Patrick praises.
“ Peeks ,” Jonny finally breathes out in reply. It’s the first word he’s said since reminding Patrick about when they fucked on the ping pong table, which feels like it was hours ago. Patrick wants to hear him say it again and again and again.
Patrick continues to watch Jonny as he slows down his strokes, he wants to be able to watch Jonny come first. He brings his right hand down to cup his balls as he uses his left hand to stroke just the tip, putting firm pressure under the head the way he likes. “You gonna show me, Jonny? Show me how stretched open you are? How greedy your little hole is for me?”
Jonny groans before pulling the dildo and his finger out. He puts the dildo to the side before reaching down with both hands and pulling his cheeks apart, showing Patrick his fucked-open hole. It’s gaping at Patrick, all wet and messy from the lube, and Patrick wants nothing more than to get his tongue in there and make it even wetter. His mouth salivates at the thought.
“Look at your pretty hole all stretched open like that for me. Wish I was there so I could get my mouth on it,” Patrick says as he starts to jack his dick in full strokes now, letting his orgasm continue to build.
Jonny pushes two fingers inside his hole, and Patrick watches them go in so easily. It’s so hot to see Jonny like this, all needy for Patrick, even when they aren’t together.
Jonny finally opens his mouth to say more than Patrick’s name. “Want your mouth, Peeks, you always get me so wet just from your tongue. Wish you were here to mess me up and make me all sloppy. It’d be so easy for you to fuck me like that.”
They’re the first coherent thoughts Jonny’s said in ages and they make Patrick want to come just at the thought of what he’s saying.
Patrick has always believed that Jonny’s ass is spectacular, so round and thick, so strong and muscular. But once they started hooking up and Patrick was allowed to get his face, his tongue , in there, he discovered that there’s honestly no place he would rather be.
Jonny’s ass is a gift from the gods. He’s so sensitive there, so responsive to every touch, and Patrick once made him come twice with just his mouth and his fingers before fucking Jonny so hard that he couldn’t stand up straight for hours. It was one of Patrick’s proudest moments.
Jonny’s on his knees now, must’ve moved while Patrick was daydreaming about his ass. He’s fucking into his hole with three fingers, his other hand bent underneath himself in a way that Patrick can only assume is to jerk himself off.
He’s almost completely bent in half, shoulders twisted into the mattress to keep himself upright. His head is turned to the side, letting out these breathy little sounds every time his fingers hit a particularly good spot. He’s beautiful like this, blissed out and on the brink of orgasm.
Jonny once told Patrick that he often can’t make himself come with just his fingers or just the dildo, needs that added pressure on his dick. But Patrick takes great pride in the many, many, many times that he has made Jonny come from just his dick alone. He’s kind of awesome like that.
“Patrick,” Jonny moans, turning his gaze towards the camera. “You jerkin’ it for me, babe? Keep your hand nice and tight, just like my ass always is for you. Want you here with me, love that feeling when you first slide in, how full you always make me. Nobody does me like you, Peeks.”
All of a sudden Patrick’s orgasm is a lot closer than it was before Jonny opened his mouth. How he always manages to do that, manages to fuck Patrick up with only his words, is beyond him at this point in their relationship. But he’s glad Jonny’s come to his senses and started running his mouth, because there’s no telling when he might stop.
“Fuck, it’s so much harder without you here,” and leave it to Jonny to make this about work ethic, even when they’re having sex over FaceTime. “You always do me so good, hitting me just right on every stroke. Before you, no one had ever made me come with just their dick, but now it happens almost every time we fuck. You always get me there, Pat. Love your dick, miss your dick.” Jonny’s just rambling now, incoherent thoughts spilling out of his mouth, but it’s really doing it for Patrick. He hopes Jonny’s almost there, too.
“Jonny, pick up the dildo for me. C’mon, want you to fuck yourself with it as if it were me there instead. Get yourself off like that, I wanna see you mess yourself up,” Patrick says as he starts squeezing on every up-stroke, trying to recreate the hot, tight clutch of Jonny’s hole.
Jonny removes his fingers and grabs the dildo from out of the frame. He brings it back towards his hole and rubs it just below the rim over his perineum, stimulating his prostate from the outside. Patrick realizes he can’t quite see Jonny’s face when he’s in this position, won’t be able to see his ‘O’ face as he comes. And that just won’t do.
“Can you turn around for me, baby? Let me watch you get yourself off while you think of me.”
Jonny moans like just the thought of being on display like this, even if it’s only for Patrick, is really turning him on. He flips over, sitting further back against the cushions and pulling his legs back, feet off the bed again. From the angle that his computer is sitting at, his knees frame his face perfectly, and Patrick chuckles briefly at the thought.
Jonny reaches down and grabs the dildo, bringing it to his mouth and spitting on it, covering it in his own saliva. He brings the silicone dick down to his hole, rubbing over the rim for a moment, before bringing his other hand down to hold himself open. When he pushes the dildo past his rim, he sighs contentedly before pushing it in to the hilt.
“Look Pat, I’m all messy for you,” Jonny says, and Patrick watches as the mixture of lube and Jonny’s own saliva runs down his crack and onto the sheets. “You gonna come clean me up? Want you to fuck me full of your come, add it to the lube and the spit, and then eat it all out of me.”
And suddenly Patrick’s orgasm is right there, just out of reach, and he needs to see Jonny come more than he needs to breathe.
“Jesus, Jon,” Patrick starts. Jonny’s got a dirty mouth on him at the best of times, but this is next level, even for him. It’s making Patrick feel like he needs to step up his game, and well, they always do seem to bring out the best in each other.
“When this is all over, when we can finally be together again, I’m gonna spend an entire day fucking you over every surface in my apartment. Gonna fuck you full of my come and keep it there, use that plug you love so much to keep you all nice and slick inside so that I don’t even need to prep you, can just bend you over and fuck you till you come.”
Jonny, honest to God, whines at Patrick’s words, shoving the dildo deep inside himself as come starts to shoot out of his dick. His back arches all the way off the bed and his mouth drops open on Patrick’s name as he keeps fucking himself through his orgasm. Jonny milks the come from his dick, squeezing from base to tip as the pressure from the dildo on his prostate makes a few more drops pool on his stomach.
When he’s fully spent, Jonny pulls the dildo from his hole, finally letting his legs drop back to the bed. He looks at Patrick through the screen with this dopey, sated smile on his face. Patrick loves his come-dumb face.
“You gonna come for me, Pat? Show me what I’m missing’?” Jonny slurs. Patrick wishes he was there, to be able to enjoy post-orgasm Jonny in all his glory. The sweet kisses that they would trade is something he longs for, and he can almost feel Jonny’s lips on his, his voice in his ear.
“C’mon, give it up for me, Patrick,” Jonny says, voice just above a whisper. And that’s what pushes Patrick over the edge, the blissed-out sound of Jonny saying his name. It’d be almost pathetic if they weren’t in love or whatever.
“ Jonny ,” Patrick gasps, as his orgasm hits him like a ton of bricks. He strokes himself through it, the way Jonny always does. He looks down and gives the head one last squeeze once his stomach and fist are covered in come, letting his dick rest against his hip.
When Patrick looks up at the screen, Jonny’s watching him right back. They stare at each other for a moment, small smiles spreading across both of their faces. Jonny finally moves for the first time since coming, reaching over to grab tissues and wipe down his abs. Patrick does the same, reaching to grab a tissue from the box next to his phone.
Jonny picks up his laptop, bringing it up to sit by the pillows before pulling the covers up over his naked body. He tucks the duvet under his chin, looking at Patrick with sleepy eyes.
“Jonny,” Patrick says, voice low. “Dried lube is never a good idea. You should shower, idiot.”
Jonny huffs, pulling the covers up even higher. “Comfy here, shower later,” he replies, eyes starting to slip closed.
What Patrick wouldn’t give right now to be tucked under those blankets with his chest pressed to Jonny’s back.
“Okay, but when you wake up feeling gross, with lube dried between your cheeks, don’t come crying to me,” Patrick mocks, a smile pulling at his lips. Jonny’s usually in a bad enough mood when he first wakes up, unimpressed with the idea of being awake and what not, so whenever he does awake from this nap should be a struggle of epic proportions for him. Patrick almost wishes he was going to be there to see the grumpy look on Jonny’s face.
“Yeah, yeah,” Jonny says into the pillow. “You can say “I told you so” later. For now, sleep.”
Patrick thinks sleep sounds really good right about now. “Alright, sweet dreams, sleeping beauty,” he says, stifling a yawn. “Love you.”
Jonny’s eyes are closed, but he still smiles. “Love you too, Pat.”
Patrick ends the call. Just because Jonny is too much of a lazy ass to shower after he comes, doesn’t mean Patrick is, thank you very much.
But when he walks into his bedroom, Patrick’s body takes over and he beelines for the bed. He throws his hat in the direction of his dresser and flops himself down on the bed, pulling the comforter up and resigning himself to showering after a quick nap. It’s his own fault, really, he shouldn’t have picked out such a comfortable mattress when he first moved into this place a few months back.
His phone dings in his pocket, and he reaches under the covers to pull it out. It’s a message from Jonny, which is rather surprising considering he was closer to sleep than consciousness when they hung up.
Patrick slides open the message. It’s a photo of Jonny standing in the shower, the water streaming down across his shoulders. He’s got a smirk on his face and his hand is in front of his chest with a big thumbs-up.
The message below the photo makes Patrick roll his eyes, but a smile spreads across his lips. Sometimes, he thinks Jonny knows him better than he knows himself. But sometimes, they know each other too well.
You didn’t end up showering, did you?
Patrick holds his phone up and takes a photo of himself, tongue between his teeth, middle finger raised for the camera.
He sends it along with the message, neither did u. u sent me that photo of u in the shower last week, idiot.
The reply comes almost immediately. Good catch, just trying to keep you on your toes.
Patrick can’t resist the comeback that pops into his head. dont u mean my TOEWS??? ;)
He’s laughing at himself when Jonny’s reply comes through. No, I absolutely did not. Go to sleep, Patrick.
Patrick sends back several heart emojis before putting his phone on his nightstand and rolling over.
He’ll be counting down the days until he can fall asleep in Jonny’s arms again. He longs for the nights when Jonny would spoon up behind him, breath hot over the back of his neck, arm tight around his stomach, legs tangled with his own. Patrick’s never been one to crave physical touch, but right now he would settle for just holding Jonny’s hand as they drift off to sleep.
He falls asleep thinking of soft smiles and warm brown eyes.