Work Text:
Patrick and Joe are both flipping through two different zippered disc cases, sitting on Patrick's bed at his mom's house. Searching through Andy's DVD collection is one of their favorite pastimes, and he's always nice about letting them borrow some. He usually has some interesting stuff for them to watch.
"Oh my God," Joe laughs as he pulls out a blue disc from the sleeve. "This movie isn't even old. I remember Pete watched it at the theater and absolutely hated it. Said it was the worst movie he had ever seen."
Patrick leans over to see what he's talking about. "Dude, Where's My Car?, huh? I've never seen it. Haven't really heard anything about it, either."
"I haven't seen it either, but I know it's bad. You wanna watch it tonight?"
Patrick smiles and sighs through his nose. "If we can't make it through the whole thing and end up bored for the rest of the night, it's on you, dude. But I'm down for whatever you wanna watch."
Reaching into his bag for his laptop, Joe replies playfully, "Yeah, why not? Bad movies are fun. If we have to turn it off, I'll just turn you on instead."
Patrick laughs and then actually processes what was just said. Was he being serious? Did he hear him wrong?
"Pardon?" He looks at Joe incredulously, who is faced away putting the disc into the drive of the laptop.
"Uh. Nothing. Don't worry about it, it wasn't important," Joe says, lips curling into a grin.
Patrick makes a hm sound and tries to move on. Joe is probably right, it wasn't important. Probably just a passing joke. He isn't into him like that. Is Joe even into guys? Patrick doesn't think so. They do sleep in the same bed at sleepovers, but there isn't anything weird about that. Friends do that all the time. Plus, Joe just doesn't have any sleeping bags and Patrick's twin-sized bed is so comfortable. That's what he says, anyway.
He should stop thinking about that. It meant nothing. Trying to find something else to give his attention to, Patrick looks around his room to try and make small talk while Joe is attempting to get the laptop to cooperate.
Bowie poster, shitty guitar, library book, filthy desk, dirty dishes on said filthy desk...
Dirty dishes. Shit, he has to put those away. His mom is gonna kill him if he leaves them in here for another day. Thinking about taking them to the kitchen, he realizes he's actually pretty hungry.
"I'm gonna grab some food before we start. Do you want anything?" Patrick asks, shuffling around Joe and standing up from the bed.
"Nah, I think I'm good for now."
Patrick nods and stacks the dishes neatly. He leaves and carries them downstairs, wondering what there is to eat. He doesn't think he really wants anything savory right now; some sugar would probably hit the spot.
Once he finishes loading the dishwasher with his disconcerting collection, Patrick explores his kitchen to scope out something he'd want to eat. There really isn't anything that catches his eye other than a can of Dr. Pepper when he checks the fridge. He isn't the biggest fan of drinking soda in front of others, since he tends to burp when he does. He'll save it for another time. A plate covered in plastic wrap catches his eye when he glances over to the stove.
About two dozen brownies are sitting there, looking pretty. The sticky note on top that his mom wrote reads, "Hi sweetie! Sorry I'm not home tonight. I baked these for you to share with your friend. Don't eat them all, okay? ♡"
Ugh, shut up. Who is she to tell him how much he can take? He sighs and grabs the entire plate. He'll do what he wants. Intuitive eating, or whatever.
Patrick re-enters his room after he climbs back up the stairs with his snacks, then shuts the door with his hip. He sets the plate down behind the laptop and crawls over to lie down at Joe's left, leaning back against his propped-up pillows.
"Hey-hey," Joe greets, smiling warmly. Patrick thinks he catches Joe’s eyes lingering on his stomach, but he isn’t sure. "I've got it all ready to go."
"Sweet, let's start!" Patrick replies, pulling the plate of sweets back over to himself and unwrapping the plastic surrounding it.
He consistently snacks on the rich and chewy brownies as the movie begins to play out. They're good. Really fucking good. Impossible to resist. Every time he finishes one he finds himself needing another, and another, and another…
Patrick finds Joe getting handsy every few minutes. This happens sometimes when they watch movies, but this time it’s… different. His hand moves up and down Patrick’s thigh, almost dangerously close to his crotch. It’s difficult to ignore, but he persists.
As time passes, Patrick realizes that Pete was definitely being honest about how bad this movie is. The acting is awkward and annoying, and the characters are insufferable. The two boys banter about how shitty it is so far, and are debating just not finishing it. Not even twenty minutes in, a scene shows up that makes Patrick deeply uncomfortable.
A transsexual stripper is disrespected by one of the main characters. Her portrayal is nothing short of a caricature as well, and it puts an awful taste in his mouth. She was so clearly included only to make the movie more absurd, and Patrick just can't anymore. This movie seriously sucks and now it's getting personal — discrimination to this degree, in a movie or in real life, is an immediate no for him.
"Can we turn this off, Joe? That last scene was... ugh. I do not think I can sit through the rest of this," Patrick admits, shifting in his spot.
"Yeah. That was really bad,” Joe agrees. His eyes fall to Patrick’s lips, and quickly move back up again.
Joe closes out the movie and ejects the disc, tossing it onto the rug. Once he shuts the laptop and returns it to his bag, he shifts to lie perpendicular to Patrick and sets his head in his lap, gazing at him half-lidded. His legs are dangling halfway off the bed.
"Mmmm, hey."
"Uh, hi?" Patrick says through a mouthful of brownie. "What're you doing down there?"
"Ohh... nothing," Joe shuts his eyes and places a hand on Patrick's stomach. "D'ya know how many of those you ate?"
Patrick swallows hard. The warmth of Joe's hand catches him off guard, and he leans into the touch a little more. "No? Why would I count? It doesn't really matter."
He reaches for another one. That was such a weird question. Why does Joe care about how many brownies he eats? He said he didn't want anything.
"So, you're just eating them without caring?" Joe turns his head to face toward Patrick's crotch and shifts his hips around, smiling. He gives his belly an affectionate squeeze.
Wow. He is getting way too close. "U-uh. No," Patrick puts the whole brownie in his mouth and rocks his hips forward just a bit. Shit, he's getting kind of turned on. "Not really. I'm just... eating what I want. My mom tells me about intuitive eating all the time," he says, voice muffled.
"Uh-huhh..." Joe's mouth hangs open and his hot breath seeps through Patrick's jeans. Good God. What is he trying to pull here?
Patrick whines and rocks his hips again, more bold and obvious this time. He swallows and feels a warm pulse intensifying right in front of Joe's mouth. The younger boy moves his hand from Patrick's stomach to his right hip, and squeezes the extra bit of give above his belt.
"What... what is this? What the hell are you doing?"
Joe opens his eyes and looks up at Patrick. "Keeping my promise, 'Trick." But his face drops a little when he looks back at his crotch, and he slides his hand off of his hip. "It seems that you're not getting into it enough, though."
Uh-oh.
That couldn't be further from the truth. Patrick is pretty damn horny right now, there just isn't anything to show from his pants to prove it. And Joe doesn't know that. Fuuuuck.
"No! No, I am, I just, um..." Patrick goes red and faces away. His pulse races knowing he has to get this out somehow.
Joe lifts up and turns his body around to look at Patrick at his own level. His knees are back on the bed, holding himself up. "Hey, it's okay if you're not into it, or if you aren't ready for anything. I don't have to keep going," he reassures, placing his hand on Patrick’s thigh.
"No, dude, I mean, I am totally into this. Love what you were doing. I'm just not, uh, how do I say this..." His hands fidget around nervously, unsure of what to do. "I don't, um..."
"You don't what?" Joe cocks his head and leans toward him a little.
Patrick shifts forward and sits up with his legs in a criss-cross position. "Okay. So. I was sort of. Born a girl. And now I'm not a girl. And I'm sorry I never told you, I never thought we would do anything like this so I figured it was unnecessary for you to know about it. I'm sorry if you're not into me anymore. You can leave if you want."
He puts his head down into his hands, unsure of how his friend will react. Joe seemed to be uncomfortable with the movie, but this isn't a movie right now. This is real life. People can be hypocrites.
"Oh, so you don't have a dick? You could've just said so. I mean, I have some questions, but they don't need to be answered right away,” Joe shrugs, pursing his lips. “I'm not turned off by this, like, at all, if that's what you're worried about." He shoots Patrick a cute smile when he looks up from his hands.
Damn. Patrick is at a loss for words. That was way easier than he was expecting it to be.
"So, what words are and aren't you okay with? Or is there anything you don't want me to do? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I've never been with anyone like you, so I need some guidance..."
He really seems so genuine. Patrick giggles a little and responds shyly. "Okay, I'm good with the words, um, pussy... and cunt. Clit is good too, but- oh, well, okay, mine doesn't really look normal? I'm not saying that as like a self-deprecating thing, it just, functions kind of like a dick? I have a bit of a length, but it doesn't compare to an actual one. Hormones do that."
"Mhm, I'm sure I won't mind, baby. Keep going now," Joe smiles.
Baby? Woah. "Yeah. Anyway, it would also be nice if you called me a girl and some feminine names. And told me about my girly features. Don't worry about making me feel bad, I promise it's fine. You can also touch my chest and all that. Um... you can call them tits." He scans the room to find something to take his mind off of things, and his eyes wander to Joe's Atticus shirt. It looks really nice, the way the black fabric contours and folds around the curve of his chest. "Um, I can't think of anything off the top of my head that would make me upset other than straight-up disrespect, so just go wild."
God, talking about this is getting him all worked up again — he's never done this before. His heart is racing and he squirms around a bit. It feels a little humiliating, which might be why he's getting turned on by it. He looks up at Joe hungrily.
The younger boy nods. "Noted. Sorry if this sounds bad, I don't mean it in that way, but uh. Would it be okay if I called you fat? God, that sounds terrible out loud, I really do not mean it in a rude way at all.” Placing his hand onto Patrick’s belly and squeezing gently, Joe whines and continues. “I just think your body is so hot and I love your curves and I want to appreciate that in a way that doesn’t sound like I'm dancing around the fact that you're a bigger guy." He takes a brief look away and moves his hand to Patrick’s thigh. "Uh. Sorry."
Their eyes meet and Patrick's face heats up. He's not very confident in his appearance, and people tend not to be interested in him, so hearing that is really new. He feels his groin heat up, now even more desperate for any kind of touch. He shoves his arms in the space between his legs and bites his lip, then responds to his question, glancing away. "I-I think I'd need for it to happen while we're actually doing anything to decide if I'm into it. But- go ahead with it, I'm intrigued."
"Cool. Nice. If you find yourself uncomfortable with anything I say or do, let me know so I can stop. I want this to be enjoyable for you,” Joe says, giving Patrick another squeeze.
The older boy nods and straightens his legs out. "So, um... what now?"
Joe lies back down on the bed and palms his erection through his skinny jeans, letting out a content sigh. "C'mere. On top of me, pretty girl," he orders, patting his thigh with his free hand.
Patrick's heart races and he practically rushes over to sit in his lap. He's always wanted to do something like this, not with Joe specifically, but the fact that it is Joe is absolutely not unwelcome. His body lowers on top of him, straddling Joe's hips.
Joe makes an oof sound in response, and says "You're heavier than I expected you to be," bucking his hips up into Patrick and grunting.
Patrick whines and grinds back. He needs to kiss him badly. Needs to feel those chapped lips against his own, needs to let that sexy lip ring intrude his mouth, needs to press their tongues together like how he sees in porn. He needs to make out with him.
"Oh, God," Patrick moans. He closes his eyes and beckons toward Joe, placing his hands on each side of him for leverage. Joe reciprocates, inching closer to collide their mouths in a desperate embrace. They swap spit clumsily, Joe's coarse lips contrasting with the velvety soft feel of Patrick's. Patrick slips his hand under Joe's shirt, warm skin meeting a cold touch. Joe's right hand finds its way behind the shorter boy's neck, sure and firm.
Joe's tongue prods at Patrick's pink lips and Patrick happily allows him entrance. He explores his warm mouth, pressing his tongue to the roof. Patrick produces an almost exaggerated whine from the very back of his throat and tightens his grip on Joe's slightly soft torso. Patrick gently fights Joe’s tongue out of his mouth and presses the surface of their tongues together, just like how he wanted. Fuck yes.
After giving Patrick one last kiss, Joe grabs at his hair and pulls him away. Patrick gasps and his mouth remains agape, eyes wide and eyebrows upturned. "Mmmh, shit," Joe plays with his hair. "Your hair is getting long. You gonna grow it out?"
"Um, I-I don't know?"
Joe catches his lip ring between his teeth. "I think you should. Grow it past your shoulders, get it layered so it looks all pretty and feathery. You'd look just like a cute girl. Fuck, man. So hot."
Patrick hangs his head and rolls his hips into Joe's, breath hitching at the hot friction against his clit. Joe groans at the contact and tilts his head up.
"More, more, please, Joe. Fuck, please," Patrick begs, slowly fucking himself on Joe's bulge.
Joe grins and drags his hand to the older's soft chin and lifts his head. "Open wide, big girl."
Eyes shut, he obliges, placing the tip of his tongue right on his bottom lip. A rich brownie is then pushed into his mouth and Joe shuts his jaw almost tenderly, his hand falling to Patrick's chest. Patrick whines and chews, desperate for Joe to get into his pants right this fucking second. He tries to make the most cliche needy face to get a move-on with whatever this is.
Joe falls right for it, biting his lip and grabbing Patrick's ass. "God, can I fuck you? Please?"
Patrick shakes his head and swallows his food prematurely. "I don't want that. I don't think I'm ready to do something like that with you yet," he says, breathy.
"Then can I suck you off? Er- eat you out?" Joe suggests, eyes darting around embarrassed. Patrick's heart jumps in his chest.
"Holy shit. Uh, yes. Woah. Hopefully I don't taste bad..."
Joe shushes him. "Get offa' me. Don't worry about that."
Patrick moves off from on top of him like he asked, lying back down in the same spot as before, making sure not to touch the brownies. There's still a good amount of them left. His head rushes thinking about eating more of them — relishing the feeling of the soft dessert coating the inside of his mouth as the flaky top-crust dissolves on his tongue.
As he reaches over to pick one up, Joe takes a jab at him. "You're still not full, dude? Really?" He bites his lip. "I would've expected you to be totally glutted at this point, but I guess you're a growing girl after all."
A whine escapes Patrick's throat and he tries to push the brownie past his lips, but Joe grabs his wrist before he can. "Uh-uh. Only I get to do that. You just lay there and look pretty, baby. Give it to me," he orders, holding his palm out.
Patrick places the brownie in Joe's hand, and he immediately shoves it into Patrick's mouth. He grips the sheets, practically humping the air as that perfect chocolate taste envelopes his mouth, so desperate for any kind of contact. His eyes squeeze shut, barely able to keep quiet as pleasure hums from his head to the heat between his thighs.
"Aw, moaning at the taste of your own mother's baking. How would she feel if she knew you were behaving this way, Patrick?" Joe coos, setting his hand on Patrick's upper belly and letting it travel slowly down, stopping at his pants zipper. "If she knew you were eating her food like this?"
He doesn't know how to respond to that. How would she feel? Disgusted, probably. Ugh.
Patrick's hips uselessly thrust in an attempt to coax his hand into moving further down. "Please, please, lower, m-more, please..." He begs. He feels like he'll die if he doesn't get Joe's hot, filthy, sweaty hands to touch him right now. He needs it more than air — more than anything. It feels like he's his life force.
"Call me a nice name, sweet girl. Maybe then I'll give you what you need."
"Mmmh, Sir, please, please, need it. Hand, mouth, anything. Just- please," Patrick holds his breath, waiting for something — anything.
Joe grins wider than ever, teeth shining and eyes beautifully blown. "Fuck yeah, that's what I like to hear. So perfect," He praises. He leads his hand down to the heavier boy's clothed pussy, receiving a whorish moan as a nice gift wrapped tightly in lust. Patrick's thighs fall wide open, hips lowering but not necessarily moving away from the contact.
So many things run through his crowded little mind. More than he can comprehend, mostly mindless begging and fucking get on with it. Joe presses and rubs firmly. Patrick bites his lip and tries to push further into the touch, wishing so badly that he was wearing nothing below the waist. He needs his direct touch, not just through jeans and boxers. Needs his hips held in place as Joe goes down on him. Needs Joe.
"You're such a tease, Joe,” he whines. “Just give me what I want. I-I can't wait any longer."
Joe cocks his eyebrow. "I'm not Joe to you, y'know. Address me properly."
Patrick wants to tell him to fuck off, but he keeps that to himself and just rolls his eyes instead. "You're such a tease, Sir,” He spits. “Now do I get my stupid blowjob?"
Joe hums lowly, displeased. The ball of his palm rolls over Patrick's clit and he cries out in response. He turns his head and looks at Joe with wide, desperate, needy eyes. He bites his lip and chokes out, "Please?"
Joe removes his hand from Patrick's groin and gently grasps his face, squishing him in such a way that makes his bottom lip stick out. He smiles again, warmer than before, and gently orders, "Take off your shirt, baby. I'll get the rest."
He reluctantly lifts the shirt off his head as Joe pulls his belt from the loops. The friction of the belt on his back burns just a little. Joe pauses, appreciating Patrick's half-naked body. His eyes conspicuously analyze every curve and roll as if he were a fine prize. Heat wells up in Patrick's face as he feels Joe's gaze burning holes into his body.
"You've got some cute little tits, 'Trick. You should try to gain some weight and grow your hair out — then you'd really look like a girl, even with your clothes off. Long, pretty, blonde hair..." Joe says, reaching for Patrick's pale and very exposed belly. "Always wondered what you looked like under your tight little shirts. Always loved how your puffy nipples show through them. Always loved seeing that dip where your navel is. God, and the curve of your waist to your pretty hips." His middle finger catches itself right in Patrick's navel, squeezing the soft, slightly hairy skin. "Shit, you think you'll try and make yourself look even more like a girl, Patrick? You think you'll do what I said?"
"Oh, God," Patrick nods, arching his back and grinding his ass into the mattress. "Just fucking- just take my pants off already. Please, Sir."
Joe finally takes the hint (which was way more than a hint) and unbuttons Patrick's jeans, yanking off his boxers with them and discarding them behind his back. Patrick's darkish bush is finally free, and the cold air that hits his lips sends a shiver up his spine. Shuffling closer to the end of the bed and toward Patrick, Joe opens Patrick's porcelain thighs and fits himself right in between. He inhales deeply, taking in Patrick's raw scent.
"Fuckin' beautiful," Joe praises. He carefully spreads Patrick apart and bites his lip. "Love that smell. Love this view. You're so hard for me. Fuck."
Drool finds its way rolling down the side of Patrick's cheek — he feels almost mindless after all this teasing. He grips Joe's curly hair, shoving his face into his cunt. His tongue prods at his hole and licks a slow, warm stripe up between his lips. The cold touch of Joe's piercing makes Patrick shudder.
"Fuck- that's it. God," Patrick says, slow and pretty. Joe kisses Patrick's clit and pushes the head past his lips, swirling his tongue.
It almost feels like a dream — a hyperrealistic, unbelievably obscene, wet dream. The slick, silky feeling of Joe's tongue feels infinitely better than all the times he's touched himself. Joe's calloused hand reaches below Patrick's belly, groping the bit of fat that his happy trail leads down into. He pulls it back, allowing for even easier access to his pussy. The hood of his clit is pulled with it, exposing more of it and inviting Joe to further take him in.
Patrick groans, feeling a bit more sensitive now that his skin is stretched out. He rolls his hips without much of a rhythm, far too engrossed in his own mind and pleasure to control himself properly.
"Joe- fuck, Sir. S-sorry. Oh, God. Sorry..." Patrick whines. His hold on his hair tightens and Joe moans around him. Patrick stuffs his face further into his crotch, needing more and more of him.
Joe lifts his head up for air and Patrick lets go. "Fuck. I love your little cock. You taste so good. So good..." he trails off, resting his head on Patrick's thigh and moving his hand down to Patrick's clit, stroking slowly between two fingers to keep him entertained. "Pretty girl. So excited to let me have you like this. All hot and splayed out and big," Joe bites his lip and squirms. "Big."
Patrick whines in response. He doesn’t understand why, but that might be one of his favorite words now. Big. It's so simple but there's so much intent when Joe says it. He never really considered enjoying being referred to that way before — his size being a point of interest never even occurred to him as a possibility. Maybe big makes him feel a little insecure, but whatever else he's feeling about it right now is outweighing that.
Just as Patrick was about to beg him to keep going, Joe's lips wrap around his needy clit. Adrenaline surges through his veins and Patrick's hand darts to Joe's hair again, moaning in sync with his movements. Patrick presses Joe's head harder into himself, nose pushing into the fat above his pussy and his tongue working on him rougher.
Patrick uses his free hand to tease at his nipple, rolling the soft bud between his fingers. Warmth pools in his stomach as he thrusts up into Joe, erratic and heavy hip movements causing the bed to creak just slightly. Joe groans around him, the vibration making Patrick shudder.
"Shit- Joe. So close. Sooo close. C'mon, please," Patrick's words are shameless — embarrassment is useless at this point. He's in far too deep.
Joe hums and begins sucking, as if Patrick actually had a cock, and the sensation makes his mind go blank. He bobs his head and grabs his hips and it's just too fucking much. He's basking in the satisfaction of Joe's perfect mouth, his beautiful skill, practically drinking it. Patrick's chest flushes and his pulse accelerates, pinching his nipple and, again, shoving Joe's face into his pussy. Closing his thighs and thrusting mindlessly, orgasm wracks his body with Joe's lips tight around his clit. He lets out a long, breathy moan and almost feels their bodies almost merge together, assimilating into one. Almost.
Patrick rips Joe's head away from his groin and pulls him up for a desperate kiss as he rides out of his bliss. Joe's lips are much softer now, having absorbed so much moisture, and tasting himself on Joe's mouth is... hot. Unnecessarily hot. He tastes bitter and almost tangy, like how he remembers when he cleans his fingers off after touching himself. Patrick uses his tongue to clean underneath Joe's lip ring, and sets his hand on his cheek.
"I'm all over your face..." Patrick notes, feeling cold moisture on his hand. He licks it away and plants a wet kiss where his tongue leaves, equally affectionate as it is lustful. "All better."
Joe's breath hitches. "Jesus," he says. "Uh, can I get off, too? If I don't come right now I think I might actually fucking die."
Patrick nods. "Thank God," Joe sighs. He stands up and looks down at himself as he runs his hand down from his chest to the bulge in his tight jeans. He rubs up and down, slow and sensual. He takes off his belt and unbuttons his jeans, stepping out of his boxers with them, and his cock springs free.
He's a pretty good size, Patrick thinks. Well, he's never actually seen a dick in real life until now, but whatever. That doesn't really matter anyway; seeing it sure as hell makes his heart race whether it counts as big or small. Actually, it would actually be kind of cute if he was small; they'd be matching.
Joe climbs back onto the bed and hovers on his knees above Patrick's lap. His cock rests flat and heavy on Patrick's stomach and the head almost dips into his navel, flushed a pretty pink and leaking precum.
"Hope you don't mind. I just really need this..." Joe whispers sheepishly, head hanging down and looking up into Patrick's eyes. After spitting in his hand, he sets it on top of his cock and thrusts gently, fucking himself on Patrick's soft belly.
Patrick keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't mind at all, he's just infinitely nervous. He doesn't fully understand the appeal of his chub and why Joe would want to rub off on his stomach, but he is definitely not complaining.
"Fuck, 'Trick. You're so soft. You- you've gotten so soft. Would you mind if-" Joe cuts himself off and whines. "If I watched you eat the rest of those brownies?"
He shakes his head. He doesn't know why Joe would want to watch him eat, but if it'll make him happy, then why not?
"I can do that," Patrick replies. He reaches for a brownie and locks eyes with Joe again, putting all of it into his mouth at once. It's kind of cold now, but it's still so, so good.
Patrick observes Joe and he seems to absolutely love it, his eyes widening and his hips moving a little faster. Warm precum smears onto his stomach and he giggles a little as he chews. Patrick reaches for another brownie after swallowing half of what was already in his mouth.
Joe lets out a choked moan as Patrick shoves the sweet into his half-full mouth. "Holy shit, dude," he rubs his cock on Patrick's belly even faster, losing his rhythm. "You're- fuck. So hot. Wanna see you bigger. Need to see you fatter."
Patrick swallows all at once, which he kind of regrets since it hurts going down his throat. Joe seems to think it's the hottest thing in the world, though, whining loudly and whispering strings of babbles accompanied by please, and close. He presses his hand harder on his cock and it sinks into Patrick's full stomach, the pressure leaving him nauseous and strangely turned on.
"Yeah? Do you wanna get me bigger?" Patrick asks. He does not know where the hell that came from. "Watch me fill out because of you? Feel how much heavier I get? Feed me fatter?"
Joe comes with his eyes screwed shut and a sob. His cock stops at Patrick's belly button and his palm rubs steadily on top of it. His hips spasm and his stomach flexes, and Patrick thinks it’s so cute. His cum spills out in pretty ropes, landing on his upper belly and a bit on his chest — the rest that leaks out pools in his navel. Once he's finished, he falls on top of Patrick, exhausted.
"Was that good? How do you feel?" Patrick wonders.
Joe sighs. "Sooooooo fuckin’ good," he answers dreamily.
Patrick never really noticed it before, but Joe has a really pretty face. He's got big, cute eyes and a nice nose. Patrick wishes he would start moisturizing his lips, it's such a waste that they're always chapped. His lip ring really complements the rest of his features. Patrick hopes he never takes it out.
Joe flops over to Patrick's right side. He pulls at his shirt and looks at it, grossed out. "My shirt absorbed the cum on you. It's gonna stain."
"That sucks. That shirt is hot on you, too. Oh well," Patrick replies.
Realizing he is shirtless and uh, does not really want to be, Patrick reaches for his shirt and puts it back on. The fabric strains a little on his stomach because of how full he is. Huh.
"So like, you’re taking hormones?” Joe asks. “For how long?"
Patrick hums. "I started puberty blockers a couple years after they were approved by the FDA when I was eleven, a little after my girl puberty started. I was fifteen when I began taking testosterone — when I figured out what was going on with me and when my mom was okay with me changing. I have to take it for the rest of my life, now. It's a shot I get in my lower stomach every week. Isn't it cool?"
"That is pretty cool. Good for you, dude," Joe pats Patrick's head, and he giggles in response. "For the record, I think it's super hot that you have a weird pussy. Like- okay. Not weird, sorry, unusual? Um..."
"Thanks, I guess?" Patrick laughs and sighs.
They should watch shitty movies more often, he thinks.