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Patron Saint of Confused Young Men

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The first time Patrick meets Matt Skiba after their first show on Warped tour, he's pretty sure Matt is high. Nobody is ever that friendly with every single person they meet. Even Pete holds back a little until he gets to know someone. Patrick is slowly getting used to how much more touchy-feely everyone in the music scene seems to be than, like, the people he went to school with, but he probably won't ever get used to things like the lead singer of Alkaline Trio walking up and giving him a hug for no reason and then asking his name afterward.

Patrick is pretty sure he's blushing when he stutters out his name. Matt just grins and says, "Patrick, right. Awesome. See you around, kid."

Patrick is still watching him walk away, wandering off to hug some other unsuspecting musician, perhaps, when Pete comes up and hooks an arm around Patrick's neck. "What was that all about?"

"I don't know, maybe he's just really friendly?" Patrick shrugs like it's no big deal, but he's feeling really...strange. Sort of like the confusion he felt when Pete first started leaning into him and then kissing him on stage. He quickly came to realize that Pete wasn't actually coming on to him, but was being, in essence, Pete.

Patrick doesn't know Skiba well enough to know what he's doing or thinking--he doesn't know Skiba at all except as a fan of the Trio--but Patrick knows himself well enough to realize he's kind of turned on right now. Not hard or anything, but his body is definitely interested. In Matt Skiba.

What the fuck.


At one of the tour stops in upstate New York, the schedule works out so that Patrick can go and catch Alkaline Trio's set right after Fall Out Boy finishes theirs. He talks security into letting him into the space between the stage and the barrier, and he hangs back at the very edge, hoping not to be noticed. The kids are all focused on the stage and Skiba has them eating out of his hand.

Patrick thinks he's being pretty stealthy, but Skiba seems to notice him between songs. He turns a thousand-watt grin in Patrick's direction, and Patrick is suddenly terrified that he's going to say something, but he doesn't. He doesn't even glance at him while Dan is singing, just plays to the crowd, to the drummer, whatever strikes his fancy.

And then they do Clavicle and Skiba looks right at Patrick when he sings "I wanna wake up naked next to you, kissing the curve of your clavicle."

Patrick is certain his face will burst into flames if his blush gets any hotter. He can hear some guy right behind him yell "fuck yeah!" and some other guy go "you're so fucking gay!" and a third guy says "who gives a shit? I'd go gay for Skiba too."

Patrick finds himself agreeing and then wonders what the hell's wrong with him, because he likes girls. Mostly. He's straight, right? He should not be fantasizing about Matt Skiba doing anything to his clavicle, much less kissing it. In bed. While naked. Oh, fuck, Patrick has a vivid imagination.

As soon as Matt turns to looks at the other side of the crowd, Patrick slips away and hurries back to the bus. He nearly knocks Joe over in his hurry to get inside and throw himself in his bunk. He'll apologize later, but right now he's too busy questioning his sexuality and his apparent taste in men. And freaking out that he even has a taste in men.

He sticks his earbuds in and turns on his iPod and the first fucking song that comes up is Radio--which his dick clearly does not realize is not a sexy song at all. He changes to a different playlist and tells himself he is not allowed to jerk off in his bunk while listening to Alkaline Trio.

After about ten minutes of listening to Jay-Z and trying to think of anything else in the world except Matt Skiba, Patrick gives up, switches back to his Alk3 playlist, and shoves his hand down his pants.

What the fuck.


Somewhere in New Jersey, Patrick thinks about talking to Pete about this...this new thing that's constantly in the back of his head. Thoughts of things he should not be contemplating, feelings he should not be having. But then he realizes that Pete can only react in one of two ways--he will either be offended that Patrick's big gay crush is not on him or he offended that Patrick's big gay crush is not on him. So there's only one way he'll react and Patrick does not want to deal with Pete Drama right now.

The strange thing about the big gay crush is that Patrick is as straight as the next dude--as long as the next dude is not actually gay, although there's nothing wrong with that if he is because Patrick has gay friends and he's totally cool with it. He's also got a stash of panties and bras that have been thrown on stage and he's had some quality private time with them, imagining the girls who probably wore them. His favorite is the little hot pink panties with black lace but now when he tries to imagine a girl wearing them all he can think about is Skiba. Not Skiba wearing pink panties because that would be weird, but just Skiba in general--his hands, his voice, his effortless cool, the way he hugged Patrick with both arms and put his whole body into it.

He's walking across the parking lot from the bus to the catering tent thinking that maybe he could talk to Andy about this instead of Pete. Andy wouldn't be judgmental and he might actually have some good advice. Patrick is pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of small wheels on rough pavement. He looks around just in time to see Matt Skiba come flying by him on a skateboard, snatching Patrick's hat off as he passes.

"Hey, give it back, asshole!" Patrick yells before it really even registers who he's yelling at. Matt comes to a stop and lets Patrick catch up to him, and Patrick warily waits for the punchline of whatever joke this is. There's always a punchline, in his experience.

"Sorry, dude, thought you were someone else," Matt says, with a big dimply grin that makes Patrick's traitorous knees go a little weak. Matt places Patrick's hat back on his head and brushes his hair out of his eyes, fingers skimming the side of Patrick's face as he pulls back and Patrick's stomach goes all wobbly. "There you go."

"Um...thanks?" Patrick expects Matt to skate on off now, but he keeps standing there, staring at Patrick from behind big black sunglasses. "Did you want something?"

"I saw you at our show the other day." Matt steps on one end of his skateboard and flips it up in the kind of move that if Patrick tried it he'd end up knocking his teeth out. Matt balances the skateboard on his shoulder as he says, "You should come hang out with us sometime."

"I...I don't..." Patrick would like to stop being tongue-tied now, but the only way he can find his voice is to look away from Matt. "I have to go now."

He turns and starts walking quickly before he realizes he's heading back toward the bus and away from food. He glances over his shoulder and Matt is still standing in the same place but now he's talking to some guy from one of the other bands. He pauses and weighs his choices. The bus has about half a box of cereal and some stale pop tarts but most likely a complete lack of humiliation. The catering tent has sandwiches and soda and possibly even fresh fruit if he's early enough, but he'll have to walk right back by Matt. His growling stomach makes the decision for him. What's a little humiliation among friends? Well, not friends. Colleagues? Tour mates? Whatever they are.

When Patrick walks by, Matt doesn't mock Patrick at all--like pretty much every other single person that Patrick knows would have done. He just continues his conversation and barely gives Patrick a glance. Patrick continues on to the catering tent and wonders how the hell this became his life.


Patrick stumbles out of his bunk one morning to find Joe and Pete eating Lucky Charms and looking at the day's schedule. He grunts a greeting at them and slumps down on the bench seat at the table. Pete reaches over and ruffles his hair, and Patrick is too tired to even be annoyed. He stayed up way too late working with GarageBand and then was plagued with weird dreams all night so that the sleep he managed to get wasn't very restful.

"Oh, hey," Joe says pointing at something on the schedule. "We should go see Alkaline Trio after our set today."

Patrick is not awake enough to control his mouth, so what comes out is, "Fuck no."

Joe and Pete both look at him like he's lost his mind and Pete says, "But you love Alkaline Trio."

"When you found out we were playing the same dates, your exact words were 'Alkaline Trio? I love that band.' That's what you said," Joe says, oh so fucking helpfully.

"Um, well, I mean, I've already seen them, so you guys go on," Patrick says, scrambling to sound normal instead of the crazy person he's probably coming off as. "I've got some other stuff to do."

Pete is watching Patrick in that way that indicates he is actually not looking at Patrick's face but staring deep into the darkest secret recesses of his brain. He's also not buying Patrick's bullshit, as evidenced by the insinuating way he says, "Right. Stuff to do that doesn't involve seeing one of your favorite bands."

"They're not one of my favorite bands. I like some of their songs, that's all," Patrick insists. "It's not like I'm at all interested in them as people or find any of them sexy in any way whatsoever."

Pete and Joe look at each other and then crack up laughing. Patrick bangs his head on the table as he replays what he just said.

"Who do you find sexy?" Joe asks when he finally stops laughing.

Pete doesn't wait for Patrick to protest or argue, he just says, "You're gay for Skiba."

Patrick forces himself to stay calm as he says, "I'm not gay for anyone. Because I'm not gay."

"Duder, there's no shame in being gay for Skiba," Pete says, patting Patrick's knee like he's consoling him or something.

"I'm not ashamed," Patrick says.

"Everyone's a little gay for Skiba--at least above the waist, or like platonically, in an I-don't-fuck-guys-but-if-forced-at-gunpoint-I'd-choose-him--"

"Platonically gay? Who the hell would force you at gun point to fuck a guy and in what twisted scenario do you get to choose your fellow victim? Do you realize how crazy that sounds? Honestly, just listen to yourself, for fuck's sake."

"Yeah, but no, I'm just saying--"

"You're just saying crazy talk," Patrick says and then turns and points at Joe. "And you can stop laughing now. Sexual assault is not funny."

"No, but you are fucking hilarious," Joe says, wiping tears of laughter off his face.

"Who's hilarious?" Andy asks, coming in from the bunks, and that just sets Joe off again.

"Patrick just realized he's gay for Skiba," Pete manages to say, even though Patrick is trying to get his hand over Pete's big stupid mouth. Pete is too damn slippery for Patrick's own good.

"I did not," Patrick protests, but nobody's listening.

"Oh, is that all?" Andy shrugs and heads over to open the refrigerator and stare inside. "Everybody's a little gay for Skiba."

Patrick drops his head on the table and wonders if anyone would think less of him if he just burst into tears right now.


Six hours later, Patrick is standing side stage with the rest of his band watching Alkaline Trio play. Pete keeps nudging him and grinning, and Patrick would really like the ground to open up and swallow him.

He's actually doing well, thinking about chord progressions and key changes and letting himself get lost in the music. Then Skiba glances in his direction in the middle of singing Nose Over Tail--right when he pauses and says "I'd love to rub your back"-- and all Patrick can think about is Skiba's hands on his skin. He can feel his cheeks turning pink and he pulls his hat down further over his face, wishing it could hide him completely.


Patrick doesn't drink much. He likes to hang out but he just doesn't get into the whole getting drunk for the hell of it thing. After an entire day of trying not to think about his big gay crush on Matt Skiba (straight, dammit!), he takes the red plastic cup of beer that someone shoves into his hand. And when he drains it, another one magically appears. He doesn't question his good fortune, he just drinks that one too.

And because Patrick doesn't drink much, he's pretty tipsy after just a couple. Somebody laughs and calls him a two beer queer and he almost takes exception to that, but then someone else refills his red plastic cup and he decides to let it go.

"Red plastic cups are awesome," he sincerely tells the drummer from The Offspring, who is holding a dripping Supersoaker. He knows the dude's name but it's not important right now, because... "and beer is pretty awesome."

The guy laughs and pats Patrick on the head and when Patrick looks around again he's gone and Matt Skiba has taken his place, sitting on the ground next to Patrick. His t-shirt is damp and his hat is on crooked, and he looks really, really hot. Patrick groans and gulps down more beer.

Patrick wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand and says, "I'm not gay for you, Matt Skiba." And it comes out so accusatory that if he was sober he'd cringe and apologize, but then again if he was sober he'd have never said it in the first place.

"Okay. I didn't think you were," Matt Skiba says with a confused smile.

"You walk around being all hot and cool and sexy and think everyone's gay for you. Well, I'm not," Patrick says insistently because it's important that Matt understand. He has to know that Patrick is not like everyone else who just falls at his feet.

"I really don't think that," Matt says and Patrick thinks he's secretly laughing at him. "Are you having some sort of sexual identity crisis?"

"I am straight, thank you very much. No crisis about it." Patrick nods decisively and goes to drink more beer but his cup is empty. "The beer is gone?"

"Is it?" And now Matt is laughing openly and it's kind of hot. He's so pretty when he laughs.

"You have dimples," Patrick sighs and then he stares sadly into the bottom of his empty cup which is not quite so awesome anymore.

"You're cute," Matt says, leaning into Patrick's shoulder. Patrick instinctively presses closer and shivers when Matt's damp shirt comes into contact with his overheated skin. Matt turns his head and his mouth is right next to Patrick's ear when he says quietly, "I would like to fuck you into next week, but I don't take advantage of drunk kids."

"Why not?" Patrick whines and then slaps his hand over his mouth.

Matt laughs and rubs Patrick's back, making little circles between his shoulder blades. It's soothing and arousing and Patrick doesn't even know what to do with that. "You're not gay for me anyway, remember?"

"Right," Patrick says, but it comes out muffled since he hasn't moved his hand. He drops it and says, "Right. Straight. That's me. Straight as they come. Girls only."

"You are so fucking cute," Matt says and it sounds so kind and sweet that Patrick wants to kiss him.

"I really want to kiss you," Patrick says and then wants to die because he didn't mean to say that out loud.

"It's okay. That's just the beer talking." Matt pats him on the back and climbs to his feet. "If you remember any of this in the morning, try not to be too embarrassed. It happens."

"Not to me!" Patrick yells after him. He sits there alone for a while, wondering if more beer is the answer. He attempts to get to his feet and falls back on his ass and decides more beer is probably not a good idea.

A minute or two later, Pete comes along and looks down at him in surprise. "I thought you were on the bus with GarageBand."

"I'm not antisocial," Patrick says, feeling all indignant that Pete would suggest such a thing, even if sometimes it's almost true. But then something more important and pressing occurs to him. "Or gay. No matter what Skiba thinks."

Pete laughs his stupid laugh and asks, "Why would Skiba think you're gay?"

"I'm not," Patrick says insistently, before admitting, "I just wanted to kiss him a little."

"Oh my God," Pete says, shaking his head. "I can't leave you alone for a minute, Lunchbox. What the fuck."

"What? I didn't do it!" Patrick shakes his cup at Pete and says, "This is empty. It's been full three...four--" He tries to count on his fingers but they're kind of blurry and he seems to have acquired a few extra ones. "--many times tonight."

"Okay. I think it's time for you to go back to the bus and sleep it off." Pete helps Patrick to his feet and steadies him until he gets his balance--more or less. "Your hangover tomorrow is gonna be epic."

"Is it too much to hope I don't remember any of this?" Patrick says and his words are blurry too now.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll remind you," Pete says and it's the last thing that really registers on Patrick's consciousness until the next morning.


Patrick's day begins with crushing pain in his head and more vomiting than any one person should be capable of and still keep their internal organs intact. Andy gives him water and Pepto Bismol and Tylenol and shakes his head a lot, but he doesn't chastise Patrick for getting drunk in the first place so he becomes Patrick's favorite person in the world.

Patrick lies on the sofa in the front lounge and tries to let the motion of the bus be soothing instead of stomach-churning and thanks everything that is holy that today is a travel day and he doesn't have to go out in the heat and play a show. That would surely kill him dead.

He's been up--well, conscious--for a few hours and is just starting to attempt to eat one of the crackers that Andy dug up from somewhere when his conversation with Matt Skiba comes back to him. It replays in his mind with full technicolor Dolby surround sound clarity and Patrick gasps out loud. "Oh shit, what did I do?"

Pete looks up from where he's been writing in his notebook and smirks. "The night's coming back to you, huh?"

"Fuuuuck," is all Patrick can manage for a response as he buries his face in his hands.

"I'm sure that happens to Skiba all time--dudes he barely even knows telling him they want to kiss him."

"I hate you," Patrick groans and he sounds pitiful even to his own ears.

"Sure you do, just like you're not gay for Skiba."

"Do not say his name again. At least for the rest of the day."

"Whatever. But it's not going to make your big gay crush go away."

"How did you know--" Patrick clamps his mouth shut and Pete laughs at him.

"Patrick, Patrick, my little Trickster, you are so not subtle."

Patrick groans and pulls a throw pillow over his head. Maybe he'll suffocate himself and won't have to deal with the consequences of his stupid drunken actions.


Patrick manages to avoid Matt until Ohio. The venue actually has showers set up and he's standing in line to take his turn when Matt comes up behind him and says, "Wanna share?"

"What?" Patrick says, whipping around to stare at him. ""

"Too bad," Matt says with a grin, and then it's Patrick's turn to shower.

It takes all his self-control to just wash and shampoo and not jerk off. When he comes back out and passes by Matt, Matt leans in and sniffs him. "You smell good."

Patrick stutters out a confused "thank you" and makes his escape.


That night when someone offers him a red plastic cup, Patrick politely says, "No, thanks," and keeps walking. He finds Andy hanging out with a bunch of other drummers. Andy gives him a can of soda with a significant look, so Patrick sticks around and talks to them for awhile.

Someone says something that makes him want to write, so he leaves them and heads back to the bus. He's humming the melody that's in his head so he won't lose it before he can get it down in GarageBand, when he comes around the corner of a bus and runs right into Matt Skiba.

Patrick stumbles and grabs Matt to keep from falling over while Matt does the same thing so they're just standing there holding onto each other's arms. Patrick stares up at Matt--he's tall and that's hot too--and Matt looks down at Patrick, and something snaps inside Patrick's brain. Some combination of sanity and self-control. Before he even knows what he's doing, Patrick is pulling Matt down and planting a kiss right on his mouth.

Patrick is a gentleman and keeps it fairly chaste at first, but Matt's mouth is open--probably in surprise--and Patrick's tongue has a mind of its own. He barely gets a taste of the beer on Matt's tongue when Matt pulls back and says, "Whoa, hold on a minute."

"Oh fuck," Patrick says as he realizes he just kissed someone against his will. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm so sorry. I'm not a rapist, I swear."

"No, obviously not" Matt says slowly, clearly trying not to laugh. "I just want to know why you changed your mind."

"Apparently, I am totally gay for you," Patrick admits sheepishly, taking off his hat and resettling it on his head in a nervous gesture he wishes he could stop doing.

"Okay, you know what? I think we need to talk about this." Matt wraps an arm around Patrick, who is almost too embarrassed to fully enjoy it, and leads him a few buses over to the Alkaline Trio bus. Patrick follows along because, well, Matt Skiba is touching him and that apparently is all it takes because he is so fucking easy. So he's not only gay but a slut too. Oh God, what will Pete say? What will his mom say?

Matt leads Patrick onto his bus and all the way to the back lounge. It's surprisingly clean and Patrick thinks his band could probably do better at hygiene.

"Have a seat." Matt urges Patrick toward the couch and asks, "You want a beer?"

"No," Patrick says quickly. "I'm not much of a drinker."

"Really? Hmm." Patrick expects Matt to get himself one, but Matt just sits down next to Patrick, leaving a several inches between them and turns kind of sideways so he's facing Patrick. "I'm intensely curious what made you change your mind."

"I dunno," Patrick says with a shrug. "Insanity?"

"So have you come to terms with your sexuality now? Are you still freaking out about being gay or bi or whatever?" Matt seems to ignore Patrick's flippancy and continues questioning Patrick with, like, sincerity and compassion, and it's doing Patrick's head in because he just wanted to make out a little.

"No? I mean, there's nothing to come to terms with. I still like girls. And also you. Apparently."

"Apparently," Matt repeats with a sigh. "It's pretty confusing, huh?"

"Yeah? I mean, yeah, it is." Patrick narrows his eyes and takes in how weirdly nonchalant Matt is about this. "Wait a minute. Does this happen to you a lot?"

Matt tilts his head in an affirmative gesture that's not quite a nod. "Listen, you don't want to do anything that'll make it harder for yourself. I mean, I could fuck you right here tonight and you'd probably let me--"

"I so would," Patrick agrees somewhat too fervently.

"--but that would shake the very foundations of your self-image. You insist that you're really, truly straight, so who am I to make you question that?" Matt reaches out to pet Patrick's shoulder like he's a dog or a small child or something and that drives Patrick a little crazy--well, crazier than he's already been driven.

"No, I don't think I am really, truly straight. Straight guys do not fantasize about another guy as much as I--um. Anyway, no, something changed or I think it did anyway, but I have no real proof because I haven't done anything. With another guy," he adds helpfully when Matt doesn't immediately leap into Patrick's arms and volunteer to teach him the ways of man-on-man love.

When Matt just nods and looks thoughtful, Patrick scoots closer and lays his hand on Matt's thigh. Matt looks down at it and then blinks at Patrick. "You don't have to fuck me, if you think that's going to damage my delicate little newly gay psyche. And I don't know if I'm ready for that anyway. We could just make out a little and see where it goes."

"Patrick...are you sure about this?" Matt sounds skeptical but he's not moving Patrick's hand off his thigh so Patrick takes it as a good sign.

"I don't know how gay I am in general, but I am definitely gay for you." Patrick moves incrementally closer until he can feel the warmth of Matt's body through his clothes, and he really just wants to stop talking and rub up against him like a cat.

Matt leans in, then stops and says, "Wait, you are legal, right?

"I'm twenty-one." Matt raises an eyebrow and smirks in disbelief, so Patrick tells the truth. "Oh, okay, I'm...uh... actually eighteen. That's legal just about everywhere, right?"

After a moment in which every muscle in Patrick's body seems to tense up in fear of rejection, Matt shrugs. "Eh. Good enough."

Patrick breathes a sigh of relief and then Matt's mouth is on his and Matt is actively kissing him and not just standing still while Patrick does all the work and it's even better than he imagined it would be during all those hours he spent obsessing over Matt and his mouth and his hands--oh fuck, yes, one hand is sliding up Patrick's thigh and the other is taking his hat off.

Patrick makes an instinctive grab for his hat but then realizes that's stupid so he ends up just flailing a bit before he settles his hands on Matt's shoulders. Matt makes an approving hum against Patrick's mouth so Patrick moves his hands around a little bit, just kind of randomly stroking Matt's shoulders and biceps.

It's strange how the rasp of stubble against his chin and being touched by hands that are bigger than his own make Patrick feel sort of like a virgin all over again. He's had sex with girls--well, a girl and he's made out with a few others--but with Matt Skiba attached to his mouth, he feels completely out of his depth and almost like he's drowning. Just when he thinks he might start to hyperventilate, Matt leans back a little and strokes Patrick's face with his fingertips and then pulls him into a hug.

"Shhh. It's all right," Matt whispers into Patrick's ear and Patrick relaxes a little, drawing in a deep breath and then letting it out again. He even smiles when Matt reaches up, takes off his glasses, puts them aside, and says, "You okay?"

Patrick allows himself a moment to take stock and really think about it. So he's a little gay, what's the big deal about that? It's new and it's still weird, but it's not a bad thing at all. He's also got a very hot guy willing to make out with him, so... "Yeah, I'm good."

"Awesome. Now come over here," Matt says and starts pulling Patrick into his lap and Patrick almost has a mild panic attack because Oh my God, he's going to feel how fat I am! but he calms down when he's straddling Matt's thighs and Matt just hugs him and says, "You are just adorable, you know that?"

"Uh, no?" Patrick says because really? Adorable is not hot and it would kill the mood except that Patrick is eighteen and turned on so pretty much nothing kills the mood for him.

"You are and someone needs to prove it to you," Matt says, all low and sexy and Patrick could not formulate a verbal response to that if his life depended on it. He just leans in and kisses Matt, who kisses back and settles his hands on Patrick's hips.

Patrick twitches and clutches Matt's shoulders spasmodically before loosening his grip and sliding his hands down Matt's chest. Matt makes a sound in the back of his throat and thrusts his tongue against Patrick's, so Patrick figures he must be doing something right.

Just as Patrick is getting comfortable with the kissing and the petting, Matt pushes his hands up under Patrick's shirt, his long fingers splay over Patrick's back and that is new. That is good and then it gets better when Matt slides his mouth down Patrick's neck. Patrick's head falls back, giving Matt room to lick the hollow of his throat and bite at the pulse point at the base of his neck and possibly for the first time ever Patrick really wishes his shirt would just disappear because he wants--no, he needs more of Matt's mouth on his bare skin.

But he's not getting naked first, so he pulls at Matt's shirt and says, "Do you wanna...?"

Matt smiles and strips his t-shirt off and tosses it aside like it's no big deal, and maybe it's not for him. He does look good naked, all slim and tan and tattooed. Patrick, on the other hand, is pale and pudgy and doesn't have any ink or piercings to make him more interesting. He suddenly thinks maybe this wasn't a good idea but, before he can say so, Matt pushes his shirt up and over his head. Patrick is tempted to cover himself, but Matt wraps his arms around Patrick and holds him close and the feel of all that skin on skin is almost overwhelming.

Matt rubs his hands up and down Patrick's back and nuzzles his neck and Patrick slowly starts to relax again, letting his own hands settle on Matt's arms. He skims over Matt's biceps and then down his chest, watching his fingers move over Matt's skin, fascinated that he's actually doing this and didn't even have to get drunk first. He glances up to see that Matt is watching him too, with a soft smile, patient with Patrick's explorations.

Patrick licks his lips and presses a delicate kiss to the edge of Matt's collarbone and Matt laughs under his breath and twists Patrick around so that he's lying on his back on the couch with Matt balanced over him on one hand. "Is this okay?" Matt asks quietly and Patrick barely gives it a thought before nodding vehemently. Matt smiles and leans down to kiss Patrick again and Patrick wraps his arms around Matt's middle, holding on tight as he gets swept up in Matt's mouth again.

They kiss like that long enough for Patrick to get bold enough to slide his hands down Matt's back, but he stops at the waistband of Matt's pants, not quite brave enough to go further until Matt reaches up and grabs one of Patrick's hands and moves it down to his ass. He whispers, "Hey, it's okay. You can touch me wherever you want."

And Patrick's mind just goes completely blank at that kind of blanket permission. He wants to touch. He wants to touch everything and has no idea how to start. Matt dips his hips, brushing his crotch against Patrick's, and he's hard and Patrick did that. Kissing and touching Patrick did that.

Patrick can't hold back a moan as he instinctively thrusts his hips up, shoving his hard cock against Matt's and even through four layers of fabric it's one of the hottest things Patrick has ever done. Matt murmurs his approval and drops his head to suck on Patrick's neck. The pull and sting feels so good that Patrick doesn't even care that there will be a bruise for everyone in the world to see. And then Matt does it--the thing Patrick realizes he's been subconsciously waiting for this whole time. He slides his open mouth across Patrick's clavicle and Patrick just about comes in his pants.

His gasp is lost in Matt's mouth as he kisses him again, open and wet and so fucking hot that Patrick feels like spontaneous combustion is not only possible but imminent. He's lost all control of his hips and is just humping up against Matt, and then Matt slips a hand between them and pops the button on Patrick's jeans.

"Yes, yes, please, yes," Patrick babbles, staring down at Matt's hand reaching inside his jeans, and then Matt slips inside his underwear and touches Patrick's dick and that's all it takes. His entire body flushes hot and he gasps and comes all over Matt's hand. It's quick but so good he wonders if this is what being high feels like. He drifts back down to earth and realizes that Matt still needs to come and holy fuck, Patrick could do that.

He scrabbles at Matt's pants until he gets them open and works his hand inside Matt's underwear. Matt just props himself up on both hands above Patrick and lets Patrick do whatever he wants. What Patrick wants is to see what he's touching, so he pulls Matt's pants and underwear down and takes a good look at Matt's cock.

If he's honest with himself, this is the point where he figured his new-found gayness would evaporate and blow away. Between locker rooms and bathrooms and being in the band, he's seen other guys' dicks before. He didn't stare or really think about them too much, but he saw them and they didn't elicit much response.

There's nothing particularly special about Matt's--it's not huge or pierced or unusual in anyway--and yet Patrick's mouth is already watering. Apparently, he has a deeply buried desire to suck dick and he can never, ever, ever let Pete find out about this because he will never hear the end of it.

Swallowing hard, Patrick licks his lips and drags his gaze away from Matt's dick and says, "I haven't ever done this before but I really want to--" He sees the question forming on Matt's lips and says, "I really want to. Can I?"

"Fuck yes," Matt says and scrambles backward so that he's sitting on the couch. Patrick crawls over and kneels between his legs.

"Tell me if I do it wrong," Patrick says, trying to laugh off his inexperience.

"You'll be fine. Just don't bite me," Matt says, smiling and brushing Patrick's hair back from his face. "Mmmm, your mouth. I could almost come just from thinking about that pretty mouth."

Patrick can feel how hard he's blushing but ignores his nerves and leans forward and takes Matt's cock in his hand, holding it steady while he flicks his tongue out across the head. It's all smooth and slick and he licks it again, dragging the flat of his tongue up the underside and across the top. Matt moans and tangles one hand in Patrick's hair while the other strokes Patrick's face. Patrick leans into the touch briefly before opening his mouth wide and sliding his lips around Matt's cock.

"Go easy," Matt says gently, cradling Patrick's jaw and rubbing his thumb around the corner of Patrick's mouth. "Don't try to take too much. Just move your hand on the rest."

Patrick does as instructed, mouthing at the head of Matt's cock and sliding his hand up and down the shaft. His teeth slip just a little and Matt gasps. Patrick starts to pull away but Matt says, "No, no, don't stop. You're doing fine."

Getting a little bolder, Patrick takes more and moves his tongue along the underside and Matt moans, "Yeah, just like that."

He bobs his head and keeps his tongue moving and then adds a little sucking and just when he's getting really tired and thinking that he's ready to just give up and do something else to get Matt off, Matt pulls lightly on his hair and says, "I'm gonna come."

Patrick starts to pull off but curiosity overwhelms him and he lets Matt come in his mouth. And immediately wishes he didn't because it tastes nasty. But there's nowhere to spit and there's not that much of it so he chokes it down with only a little gagging and coughing.

"Yeah, next time, listen to the warning," Matt says and swipes his fingers across Patrick's mouth. Then he pulls Patrick up onto the couch and fixes his clothes and says, "Be right back."

Patrick reaches down to fasten his jeans and notices that Matt must have wiped the come off his hand onto Patrick's leg. Patrick takes this fairly well when considers it's his come and what else was Matt going to do with it? Then he feels smug that he managed to swallow his first time giving a blowjob.

He's pulling his shirt on when Matt comes back--still gloriously and unself-consciously shirtless--and hands him a bottle of water. Patrick mutters his thanks and cracks open the bottle and drinks about half in one go. Matt sips from a bottle of beer and watches him with an amused little smile.

"So, how you doing?" Matt asks after a while.

Patrick takes stock of how he feels. He's not freaking out or even weirded out, so that's good. He feels pretty relaxed and energized at the same time. Like he could go write a dozen songs or take a nap, and either one would be a perfect and brilliant thing to do. "I'm good."

"How's the--" Matt scrunches his eyebrows and makes an odd swoopy gesture with his free hand. "--the gayness?"

Patrick looks Matt up and down and thinks about all the things he'd still like to do to him. He licks his swollen lips and smiles slowly. "Still here."

Matt grins and says, "Cool. You's a pretty long tour."

Patrick drinks the rest of his water and hopes that means what he thinks it does, but before he can say anything, he hears people coming onto the bus. He gets to his feet and shrugs. "I should probably go."

Matt nods and pulls Patrick close for a sweet kiss. "See you around, Patrick."

"Yeah, definitely," Patrick says and makes his escape.

As he's walking through the front of the bus, he passes Dan and a girl he thinks sells Trio merch. He nods as he passes by and just as he gets to the door, he hears Dan say, "So I guess Matt turned another one."

The girl says, "At least this one is really cute."

Patrick ducks out the door before he hears anything else. He's already trying to figure out what he'll say when Pete sees the bruise on his neck. Pete always sees everything Patrick wants to hide.


The end.