Pete wants some Patrick time.

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"Pete." Patrick's trying hard not to be annoyed at the way Pete's interrupting his work and holding him up against the wall. Pete is grinning down at him, a grin that belies the intensity of his gaze and Patrick's willing to hear him out before he snaps and strangles Pete. He rolls his shoulders against the wall and tests Pete's grip on his arms. Pete's hands tighten around his biceps.

Pete drops his head down to nuzzle at Patrick's neck. He whispers, "How long has it been since we've fucked?"

Patrick blinks up at the ceiling, arching his neck to give Pete more skin to nibble at, lick at. He says, "This morning."

Pete hums. "Too much time has passed." He lets go of Patrick's arms in favor of palming his ass. Patrick makes a high pitched noise when Pete rocks against him, hard cock to hard cock. Pete says,"I want to sit on your dick. I've been thinking about it all day." There is no way that Pete has been thinking about it all day. Just that morning, Patrick had sucked Pete off under the kitchen table after pancakes and orange juice. Those had been really good pancakes. Pete bites his shoulder. "Pay attention." He grabs Patrick's hand and pushes it down the back of his boxers. "I got myself ready for you."

No one could resist an invitation like that and Patrick doesn't even try. He slides his fingers down between Pete's cheeks and Pete's groan mingles with his when he pushes two inside with little to no resistance. Pete's slick and loose and the thought of Pete off somewhere working himself open makes Patrick want to fuck Pete with more than just his fingers. Pete's pushing his hips back against Patrick's hand, mouth sucking bruises onto the pale skin of Patrick's neck.

Patrick pulls his fingers out of Pete's ass and Pete whines in disappointment. Patrick doesn't even take the time to soothe him, just pushes Pete back and steps away from the wall. Patrick knocks Pete's hands away from him and jerks his own shirt over his head, not even bothering to remove his hat first. It falls, trapped in his t shirt to the floor and is quickly followed by his jeans and boxers.

Pete's watching him with heat bright eyes and he's kicked free of his boxers. Patrick looks at Pete's inked up body and no matter how many times he sees Pete naked, he still appreciates the way Pete's cock juts out from his body, the sharpness of Pete's hipbones. He doesn't know what Pete sees in the soft curve of his belly, the thickness of his thighs, but he sure as hell isn't going to question it. He's going to accept it at face value and fuck Pete until he can't fuck him anymore.

"Please, Patrick." Pete's shifting his weight, waiting for Patrick to make a move.

Patrick can do that. He settles down on the floor, knees bent, legs spread. He beckons Pete forward and Pete straddles his hips. He wraps his hands around Pete's thin waist, stabilizing him as he positions himself and Patrick's cock. Patrick's hips jerk when Pete rubs the head of his cock against him and he grits out, "Yeah, sit on it."

Pete hisses when the head pops in and pauses briefly, thighs straining. Patrick waits for him to adjust and Pete's initial slow slide downward is so good. Patrick continues to wait patiently as Pete rolls his hips and squirms around on top of him. Pete sighs and looks down at him. "Okay, yeah."

Sweat is already gathering at the small of Patrick's back, smearing against the hard wood floor and Patrick could care less. All he wants is for Pete to keep riding him, round ass smacking down against the tops of Patrick's thighs and Patrick squeezes those lush cheeks. Pete's breathing hard, biting his lip and his hair is a mess from where he's been pulling on it, arching his back. Patrick plants his feet and thrusts up hard while pulling Pete down to meet him. That's...that's good. He kind of wants to roll Pete over and just pound away at him, but Pete asked for this, wanted the control and Patrick is going to let him have it.

"Patrick..." Pete's having a hard time keeping his eyes open and the motion of his hips has become less smooth. Patrick wraps a hand around Pete's cock and squeezes. Pete shouts and spurts all over Patrick's stomach and chest. Patrick thrusts through Pete's contractions even though each slide makes Pete whimper pitifully.

It feels fucking awesome when he unloads inside Pete.

Patrick feels like he's never going to stop coming and he can imagine the way his come will slide sticky and white down Pete's thighs when Pete stands up on unsteady feet. Pete's not acting like he's going to stand up anytime soon. Instead, he folds down against Patrick's chest, unmindful of the sweat and bodily fluids between them.

Pete gives him a quick peck to the underside of his jaw and murmurs, "I love you." Patrick's finding it hard to remember what he thought was more important than being here in this moment with Pete. Nothing, obviously.

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