Work Text:
It had been three days since Patrick had kissed David. Three magical, overwhelming and ridiculous days. Seventy-two hours. Okay, it was probably closer to eighty-three hours since the kiss had actually happened if Patrick was counting. And he was counting. Nothing in his life felt the same since.
Since meeting David, Patrick had been aware of the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, on more than one occasion. But since that kiss, he felt like an entire butterfly farm had opened up in his chest and they regularly swooped around inside his body, tickling him from the inside. They threatened to burst free at any given moment and swarm out of his skin.
He laughed at his own stupid metaphor. The idea of David having to deal with a swarm of butterflies and the antics it would cause was delightful. Exciting. Thrilling. He loved it when David got all extra about everything. David would probably, no-definitely- break up with him if he were sprouting out butterflies all over the place. They were just well-dressed moths after all. He bit down on his smile and shook his head at himself. Nobody had ever caused him to feel as much joy as David Rose.
Ducking his head, he closed his eyes and was instantly brought back to memories of the night before. Of passionate, desperate, life-altering kisses traded frantically in the front seat of his Toyota, after eating pizza and pasta and tiramisu in Elmdale. He felt his body flush and opened his eyes quickly. He couldn’t think about it while he was in the store. Even the fleeting thought of being close to David made him thicken in his already way too-tight denim, his length straining against the unyielding zipper. So much so, he had to reach down and adjust himself.
It had only been three days and Patrick couldn't remember why he'd said he wanted to take it slow.
He wanted David so desperately; it had overcome the fear that he wouldn’t know what he was doing, or that he would embarrass himself with his lack of experience. He had been watching a substantial amount of high-quality porn in his search for answers about both his feelings for David and his own sexuality. And while he knew porn couldn’t be counted on to be realistic, it had proven he was right about himself and provided him with a very good road map of things he thought he might like to visit in the near future.
Patrick looked across to the café and was rewarded as the door swung open and David stepped out onto the street. He was wearing the black skirted pants (just a simple piece of additional fabric gave him such a thrill) and a white sweater with black stars that looked spray painted across it. Large white sunglasses covered those devastating eyes, hair perfectly swooping up and lips pursed like he was holding onto a damning secret. Patrick watched him stride purposefully toward the store.
Patrick groaned at himself. His dick, which had barely settled, perked right back up just because it knew it was going to be in David’s vicinity. What was he going to do? He had already rubbed one out in the shower this morning, desperate to keep himself under control. But David was just that beautiful. The thought of him and his passion, his focus and even the delicate sensitivity that fuelled his determined creativity all made him a curiosity, a puzzle, a trap for Patrick to get tangled in.
And Patrick wasn’t stupid. He understood well enough that he was experiencing proper sexual desire for the first time ever, causing him to have the libido of a teenager. It was amazing. Self-awareness was a wonderful thing, but Jesus. He wished he could keep it a little under control. Keep himself (at least a little) professional.
The bell jingled over the door.
“Hey,” David greeted him breathlessly, grinning like the cat who had swallowed the canary.
“Hi,” Patrick replied, moving out from behind the cash, drawn like a magnet to David’s due North.
David settled the tray with their beverages down on the counter, before placing his hand on Patrick’s hip. Patrick felt the butterflies dip and swirl as they flew from his heart to the position David’s hand sat on his body. The intricate warmth that spread through his body propelled him. He slid his hand over David’s shoulder and pushed up to kiss him lightly on the lips.
As he pulled back, he noticed David’s eyelashes flutter. And while he was sure that he was flushed and rosy-cheeked in reaction to this modest interaction, David’s reaction assured him that he was not the only one in the room feeling overwhelmed.
🦋🦋🦋
“Finally,” David said, the relief obvious in his voice as he rushed over and locked the door behind Mrs Stevenson. “I thought today would never end. We were so busy for a Tuesday.”
Patrick smirked, as he leaned over the cash, filling in the sales ledger. “I feel like word has gotten around.”
“What do you mean?” David asked, furrowing his brow.
“I think…” Patrick said slowly, as he stood up straight and tapped the pen against the counter. He was trying to find the right words that wouldn’t upset the delicate balance of flirting and playfulness that had been present today. “I think that people know about us being together now and have come to see for themselves.”
“What?” David’s eyes bulged. “Did they expect to see us going at it in the middle of the store? Me giving you head while you cashed them out? Dry humping up against the produce fridge?” David was pretending to be horrified, but the twitch at the side of his lips gave him away.
The butterflies started to stir, and Patrick felt his cock twitch. He couldn’t stop the sound that emerged from the back of his throat.
“Patrick?” David stepped in front of him, a knowing grin spreading across his face. “You okay?”
Patrick shook his head slightly to try and focus on the moment at hand. “Yes. Yep. Sure,” he replied and hit the button to open the cash drawer so he could take it out the back for counting.
“Do you think that’s what they expect to see?” David inquired one more time and raised an eyebrow purposefully.
Patrick looked up to the cheeky look on David’s face and then fumbled the cash drawer, the coins jingling and clanking. He steadied himself and looked up at David, who bit down on one side of his bottom lip so that the other side looked unfairly plump. David knew what he was doing. Patrick cleared his throat.
“David?”
“Yes, Patrick?”
“I’m going to cash out now,” Patrick declared pointedly, breathing out heavily and trying to keep his mind on the job at hand.
Patrick took the cash drawer and turned to go through to the back room, placing it down on his desk and then bracing himself against it, arms straight out while bent over, head hanging between them.
Three days. It had only been three days. The butterflies danced beneath his ribcage. Surely it would get easier. It wouldn’t feel so out of control eventually. Things would calm down and being in the same room as David would become a normal, easy, everyday thing.
A flash of light flickered across the desk as the curtain opened and closed again; with a few steps, David was right behind him. Not touching, but Patrick could feel the air between them crackling.
“Ummm, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be such a tease. That’s not slow, I shouldn’t have…”
Patrick couldn’t take it anymore. He spun around and slid his hand around David’s waist, pulling him in. Pushing himself up on the balls of his feet, he focused on David’s eyes that widened before he leaned forward so that their lips met.
They kissed passionately, taking up where they had left off the night before. David fell against him, pushing him back so his arse hit his desk and jingled the cash drawer once again. David’s arms slid around his neck and Patrick pulled him in closer, angling himself on the desk so he could lift one leg and wrap it around David’s thigh as he leaned forward into Patrick’s body. The change of angle brought their hardening cocks together and Patrick’s breath hitched. David pulled back.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice pitching up with concern.
“Mhmm,” was all Patrick could manage, instead showing his enthusiasm by pulling David’s mouth back onto his.
David smiled into the kiss (God, Patrick adored it when he did that) and the butterflies flew up through his chest, into his throat, and muddled all the thoughts in his brain. David’s tongue thrust into his mouth and Patrick couldn’t care about anything else. Kinetic energy buzzed across his skin and every hair on his body stood on end.
Patrick didn’t know how he would ever get over this. The electric feeling of being in contact with David Rose. Of having his body pressed up against him in such a way that he could feel the effect he had on David, while at the same time having to deal with his own overwrought body.
He thought that he knew. It seemed to him that passion and love were just not the same for him as for others. He had thought that maybe he was asexual or demi-sexual and that sex just wasn’t a big deal to him. So, he had been satisfied for a time with the sweet, comfortable and respectful love-making with Rachel. He thought that orgasms were the same whether he was alone or with somebody else.
However, since he moved to Schitt’s Creek he’d had his epiphany. The one that was triggered by David Rose’s tightest of tight jeans and that tucked-in smile, well. He already knew that orgasms were better when you were in tune with what actually turned you on.
Patrick pulled back to breathe and let his head fall back slightly. It gave David the opportunity to kiss the underside of his jaw and holycrapwhatthehell, Patrick groaned loudly as the butterflies took flight, pushing forcefully against his rib cage, and he couldn’t care anymore. He felt his bones turn to liquid and his hips jutted forward of their own volition.
He gasped and David pulled back. “Still okay?”
“Don’t stop,” he breathed out, not recognising his own voice. It was driven by something new. Someone new.
David’s smile was soft and he ran his hands up Patrick’s shirt and played with the top button, “Can I?”
“Yes, mhmm, please.”
David continued to kiss down his neck and made it to his clavicle. His skin tingled; he was vaguely aware of his shirt being undone and pulled from his jeans. David pushed it open so he could lick at his nipple tentatively.
“Holy fuck,” he whispered. That was it. He couldn’t take it anymore.
It had only been three days, but they had been three very long, desperate days that were only preceded by more days where he hadn’t been able to touch David at all. He grabbed David’s other hand and placed it over the bulge in his jeans. He needed David to know what he did to him, the effect he had on his body.
David stilled and pulled back, looking at him quizzically.
“Just like that, exactly like that, please,” Patrick pleaded. “I have to… I need to…”
David’s mouth quirked slightly and he leaned back in to take his nipple in his mouth, at the same time rubbing Patrick’s jeans over his aching cock. He squeezed and ran his hand south so he was touching Patrick’s highly sensitive balls.
Holyfuckjesusmaryandjoseph. David’s hands were on him and he almost felt ridiculous, like a teenager dry-humping in the basement, but he couldn’t care. Not when he felt this needy, this desperate.
He heard himself moaning and whispering ‘yes’, ‘god’, and ‘more’. Sounds came from the back of his throat, punched out without permission, as David increased the pressure. The noises seemed to come from somewhere else, someone else. It wouldn’t have mattered if half of Schitt’s Creek was standing in their store listening, he wouldn’t have been able to stop.
He grabbed David’s hip so firmly he might have been scared he was going to leave a bruise if he had even a modicum of concern at all about anything. Anything other than the feeling of his balls constricting and the butterflies congregating in the pit of his stomach, flapping wildly and then…
Bliss. His entire body was iridescent and those stupid butterflies managed to burst free.
Patrick breathed deeply and then looked up at David, who somehow simultaneously had a soft, gorgeous smile and heavy-lidded eyes full of desire.
“Fuck, you are so pretty,” he beamed and Patrick felt himself flush all the way down his chest. “And look at that blush, my god. You’ll be the death of me, Patrick Brewer. All sweet and cocky. Watching you come apart so desperately before you even finished cashing out? Mmm-mmm.” David shook his head and licked his lips.
Patrick smiled lazily, until it occurred to him he was being selfish. His smile dropped and he reached toward David. “Can I?” he asked, the question dropping from his lips as his brow furrowed, not really sure what he would do to reciprocate at this stage.
“Uh-Uh,” David said, stepping back. “Relax. That was beautiful to see and while this…” David made a circling motion over his own obvious hard-on, “is definitely interested, I just want you to appreciate every first. As you said. Slow. I am beyond satisfied right now.”
“But I can’t just leave you…” Patrick started. “That’s hardly fair.” He couldn’t comprehend that David would be satisfied just watching him enjoy himself.
David shrugged. “Why don’t you get yourself sorted, cash out and then we can go have dinner at the café? Maybe we can make out in the back seat of your car tonight?”
Patrick groaned, and felt his dick twitch valiantly.
“You are going to be the death of me, David Rose,” he chuckled.
“I certainly hope not. Because we definitely need more of this,” David leaned in to kiss him gently on the lips and Patrick knew then that these feelings were going to take more than just a short time to get over. “We are just getting started, baby.” David grabbed the broom, turning his head and winking before he swept back onto the shop floor through the curtain.
Patrick groaned, and started to rebutton his shirt.
Stupid butterflies.
🦋🦋🦋