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Patrick has just shut off the engine of his car when his phone buzzes in the pocket of his jeans. 

Wanna skip class? It's from Joe.

There's nothing particularly important that he'd be missing today. But even still, Patrick likes to avoid things that could get him grounded. It's not like he has a particularly active social life these days, but he doesn't want to do anything to fuck up the band. Namely, make his mom think it's interfering with his school work.

And do what? he texts back. He shoves his phone back in pocket and grabs his backpack from the passenger seat. He's about to lock the door and head inside when his phone buzzes again. He wasn't really expecting to get a response.

I could think of a few things

Something twists in the pit of Patrick's stomach as he reads it. He remembers last week at Joe's house, after practice, up in his bedroom. One hand tangled in Joe's hair as they kissed, Joe sliding a hand down into his pants, whispering, "Shhh," as footsteps went down the hall. He feels his face flush and he opens the door and gets back in his car without even thinking about it.

I'll be there in 10.

--

They end up at a movie. It's a shitty movie, but it's still better than being at school. And besides, Joe paid for his ticket. 

"Hope you realize this means I expect you to put out," Joe had whispered to him as they walked into the theater. 

Patrick gave him a shove and hoped the dim lighting meant Joe couldn't see him blush. 

"Don't be an asshole," Patrick said as they took their seats. Second row from the back, even though they practically had the theater to themselves. "You're gonna have to at least buy me dinner first."

They both knew it was a lie. You don't sit in the very back if you don't plan on fooling around.

--

Joe makes his move about an hour in. He leans over and says, "Hey."

Patrick turns to look at him, about to ask, "What?" when Joe curls a hand around his face and kisses him. Patrick's only surprised for a split second before he's kissing back. Its not like he hasn't been thinking about this, waiting for it, ever since he drove out of the parking lot of his high school this morning.

"That was pretty smooth," Patrick says when Joe leans back.

Joe laughs, scratches the back of his head. "Thanks, dude."

"Hey, get back here." He tugs at the front of Joe's hoodie when Joe tries to lean back into his seat. "Not done with you yet."

Joe makes a surprised sound and then it's, "Oh, okay," and Patrick can feel him smile when he presses his mouth against Patrick's again.

--

There's some kind of explosions happening on screen when they finally stop to catch their breath again. Patrick doesn't really care, he gave up on trying to keep tabs on the plot of this movie a long time ago.

"Fuck," Joe mumbles, his voice rough. "I want to. I mean." The hand he had at Patrick's neck trails down his chest and stalls, rests against his stomach. "Can -- can I touch you?"

"I, um. I --" Patrick stammers. It's not that he doesn't want to. It's just -- skipping school is one thing, getting thrown out of a movie theater for public indecency is another.

"It's okay," Joe says, awkwardly, backing off a little. "If you don't want to. That's cool."

"No, I just. What if someone sees?" 

Joe chews on his bottom lip a moment, as though he's thinking, and then pulls his hoodie off in one swift motion. 

"Here," he says, reaching over the armrest and spreading it out across Patrick's lap. His hand lingers against Patrick's stomach, his thumb sneaking underneath Patrick's t-shirt and drawing circles around his bellybutton. "Is this okay?"

Patrick's breath hitches and he nods, doesn't trust his voice not to crack. Joe leans over and kisses his jaw as his hand slips underneath the hoodie, tugs his jeans open.

--

It started a little over two weeks ago. Joe had driven him home after a show. They were standing in Patrick's driveway, talking about nothing in particular, when Joe crowded him up against the van and kissed him. Patrick, who had never really given much thought to his sexuality before that night, was surprised to learn he had no problems kissing back. They didn't talk about it after, just said their goodbyes before Joe drove off.

It wasn't until later that night, when Patrick was falling asleep, remembering Joe's hands firm on his shoulders, that he thought, "Huh. I might be kind of gay."

Right now Patrick's not thinking about how they still haven't talked about this, about what it means for their friendship, about how it could affect the band. All Patrick's thinking about now is how good it feels, having Joe's hand tight around his dick, jerking him off with firm strokes. And that yeah, he's definitely kind of gay. 

Joe adds a twist of his wrist on the upstroke and Patrick has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from making any noise. A few seconds later Joe's rubbing his thumb over the head and Patrick's hips jerk up.

"Shit," he hisses. "Joe, I'm going to --"

Joe leans in, bites at Patrick's bottom lip, and just like that Patrick's coming all over Joe's hand, hoping that he hasn't made a mess of his jeans or Joe's hoodie. Joe removes his hand slowly, carefully, and while he's reaching for a napkin to clean up with, Patrick tries to catch his breath and zips his jeans back up.

--

On screen, a couple is making out, a sunset in the background. Patrick has never been more confused about what went on in the last two hours, but hey, at least there's a happy ending. Next to him, Joe is shifting in his seat, his hard-on fairly obvious. 

When the lights come on, Patrick hands him his hoodie back and says, "You're probably going to need this."

Joe flips him off as he takes it, holds it strategically over his crotch as he stands up. They pass a disgruntled looking theater employee, probably in his early thirties, who shoots them dirty looks as they leave. Patrick thought he would have been mortified to find out that anyone saw them, but instead he can't keep himself from laughing. Joe elbows him in the side as they walk out into the parking lot.

--

Joe gets to the car first. Patrick understands why he took off, and that was probably a good idea in theory, but now he has to wait for Patrick to unlock the car. He's standing by the front passenger door, looking annoyed when Patrick finally catches up.

"What are you doing?" He asks. Joe looks at him, now confused and annoyed. Patrick clicks the button on his keys and all four doors open. He opens the back driver side door and says with a grin, "There's more room in the backseat."

--

There isn't actually that much room in the backseat as it turns out. They have to maneuver around the empty take out containers; Patrick hadn't realized how much garbage there was back there. It's not like he spends a lot of time anywhere but the driver seat of his car.

"Sorry," he mumbles. It seemed like it would be a good idea at the time.

"Whatever," Joe says, shoving an empty Starbucks cup off the seat between them. "Just get over here."

A quick smash of lips and Joe's already panting, "Patrick, please."

"Okay, okay. Just hang on." A few seconds later he's tugging Joe's jeans and underwear down and Joe's making small desperate sounds in the back of his throat.

"I'm gonna try something," he says, taking his hat off and setting it down on the seat next to him. "Just don't pull my hair, okay?"

"What are you --" Joe starts to say. 

And then Patrick bends down and sucks Joe's dick into his mouth, one hand tight around the base. Joe doesn't say anything else after that. It's mostly just low throaty sounds that Patrick finds he likes quite a bit.

Patrick doesn't really know what he's doing, but he figures, he's seen porn, he can wing it. He works his one hand up and down as he sucks, cups Joe's balls with the other. It doesn't really take much more than that. Joe makes a strangled sound, his fingers tight at the back of Patrick's neck, and then he's coming in short spurts, into Patrick's mouth. Patrick pulls off, looks for a napkin to spit into and then thinks, fuck it, and swallows.

"Fuck," Joe says, his eyes wide.

Patrick wipes his mouth off with the back of hand and reaches for his hat. 

"Fuck," Joe says again. He tugs Patrick forward by the front of his shirt and kisses him until they both have to stop to breathe. 

Patrick leans back in his seat, adjusts his hat and says, "Dude, I'm hungry."

"Me too."

"Pull up your pants and lets go get burgers," Patrick says before he gets out of the car.

Joe nods and joins him in the front seat a moment later. They don't talk about it, but neither of them can keep from smiling for the rest of the day. That probably means something, but Patrick doesn't think about it too hard. He's happy, that's enough.