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One eighty degrees and I'm caught in between

Summary:

He can’t remember the last time he was able to take his time getting himself off, slow and luxurious; ever since he came to Schitt’s Creek masturbation has been quick and quiet in the shower, or occasionally careful and silent in bed.

And when is he likely to have another chance like this?

Notes:

Welcome to another kink!verse instalment! Reading the earlier stories is not required (though, as the very biased author I obviously recommend it); they stand alone and are essentially canon-compliant (just with a different first meeting and their relationship being a month longer than canon) so that folks can tap out of any kinks/fetishes/etc that aren't for them as we go.

Please assume that if you don't see something being negotiated on-screen, they've discussed it off-screen. Also, just a reminder to please not take your kink advice from fanfic. Do your research first, and not from AO3.

Title is from Britney Spears.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“What do you think about when you jerk off?”

David blinks. There are questions you expect your boyfriend to ask you, and questions that seemingly come out of nowhere. This one is decidedly the latter, and he falls back on his age-old tactic of deflecting instead of answering. “Um, what do you think about?”

“I… don’t?” Patrick’s voice rises, turning it into a question. “I’ve always just kind of shut my brain off, focused on the physical sensations.” He flashes a quick, if slightly self-deprecating, grin at David. “Kind of obvious why, in retrospect.”

David brings his hands to Patrick’s shoulders, squeezing them lightly. “I don’t think there’s, like, one correct way to masturbate… although there are definitely some incorrect ways. Vaseline, Patrick, honestly.”

Patrick smirks. “Oh, I don’t think we need to rehash that argument, David. You convinced me of the benefits of actual lube.”

“Mm.” He bends down to press a kiss to Patrick’s collarbone. “Sure you don’t need a reminder? Say, right now?”

Patrick hums. “If you really don’t want to tell me, you don't have to.” He’s being all earnest about it, and David rolls his eyes. “But I’m interested.”

“It’s just… I think about lots of things?” He knows he’s hedging, and from the look on his face, so does Patrick.

“Okay, fine. What were you thinking about last night?”

David gapes at him. “I thought you were asleep!”

Patrick shrugs. “I was, at first. You woke me up with all those hot, muffled sounds. You’re terrible at staying quiet.”

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Patrick’s voice drops, his hands trailing up David’s sides. “It was very hot. I was just annoyed I couldn’t seem to wake up enough to join in.”

David swallows hard. “Oh.”

Patrick, the horrible troll, weaponises his eyes. “Will you tell me what you were thinking about, David?”

“Um. I was thinking about you fucking me?” It’s the truth, but not the whole truth, and Patrick can obviously tell by the way he raises his eyebrows.

“That can’t be all you were thinking about.”

David bites his lip. “Okay, the thing is, our sex life is really, really good? So I don’t tend to… need to fantasise about stuff that we do?”

“Okay…” Puzzlement spreads over Patrick’s face. “But I do fuck you. A lot.”

“Oh, I know.” David growls the words low in Patrick’s ear, and is gratified when he flushes. He thinks maybe Patrick will let himself be distracted, but—

“So what was the rest of it? David, come on, you know I’m not going to judge you.”

He does know that. He’s not worried about judgement; he’s worried about Patrick feeling inadequate. “Fine.” He rushes the words out as quickly as possible, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond Patrick’s left ear. “You were fucking me while I was fucking someone else.”

“Oh.” For all his needling, Patrick sounds surprised. “Well, that’s not— wait, it wasn’t Ted, was it?”

“Um, no.” David is so surprised that it doesn’t even occur to him to tease Patrick about his mind immediately jumping to a threesome with Ted in the wake of last week’s housewarming party until he’s already continued speaking. “No, um, it was actually… a woman?”

Patrick’s eyebrows fly up to his hairline. “Oh, wow. Okay. Um, Stevie, or…?”

“Ew, no!” David blurts out. “No, that ship has long sailed, thanks so much. It wasn’t, like, an actual person. Just an imaginary woman.”

“Huh.” Patrick doesn't look shocked, or disgusted, or offended. He looks…

“Okay, you have your sex planning face on.” David picks carefully through the words. “And while that is very intriguing, I should probably clarify that surprise threesomes are, like, a hard limit for me?”

“David, surprise threesomes should be a hard limit for everyone.” Patrick says it like it’s obvious, and David tries not to think about all the times they’ve been sprung on him — and how often it was done as a I’m not cheating on you if you join in thing. “And I don't have a sex planning face.”

“Okay, but you definitely do though, so…”

“David.” Patrick takes David’s face in his hands with a grin. “I’m pretty sure this is just my turned on by hearing what you jerk off to face. My I’d like to fuck my boyfriend now face.”

And, okay. David can work with that face.


David’s forgotten about that conversation by the time, a few days later, Patrick tells him he’s going out for a few drinks with his baseball ensemble to celebrate… someone’s birthday. If he’s being honest, he’d tuned out at the first mention of sports.

“Okay.” He folds down the now-empty box of moisturiser as he speaks. “I don’t think I left anything at your place that I need — would you mind dropping me off at the motel after work, though?”

Patrick tilts his head to the side, something playing across his face David can’t quite name. “I can if you want me to, David. But I was kind of hoping you’d stay anyway.”

David raises an eyebrow. “Even though you won’t be there?”

“I mean, I won’t be out all night.” Patrick steps out from behind the counter and into David’s space, plucking the box out of his hand and resting it against the shelf before sliding his arms around David’s waist. “I just… I really like coming home to you.”

It’s a sign of David’s… emotional growth, or whatever, that he doesn’t blurt out the then why didn’t you want to move in with me? that flies unbidden into his head. Instead he bites his lip, his gaze dropping to the floor. “If you’re sure you don’t mind.” In truth, it takes even less to convince him to stay at Patrick’s apartment than it did when Patrick was still living with Ray, and he was far more willing to do that than he perhaps should have been given Ray’s almost impressive unwillingness to understand boundaries.

Patrick drags his fingers up David’s sides, the soft touch making him shiver even through the layer of his sweater, until he flicks his eyes back up to meet Patrick’s. “I’m sure. I want you to stay.”

David tucks his lips behind his teeth, nodding quickly. “Okay, then.”


It’s not until Patrick has left to be a sports bro, ball cap and all, and David is pottering around the blissfully silent apartment after disposing of the takeaway containers that he realises just how rare true privacy actually is for him. On Patrick’s day off when he’s at the store by himself there are always customers — which is a good thing, of course it is — and on his day off when Patrick’s at the store David is at the motel, getting dragged into whatever his parents or Alexis have going on, and if he’s not at the motel or at Patrick’s then he’s at Stevie’s getting blissfully high. He can’t even remember the last time he had more than fifteen minutes to himself with a guarantee of no interruptions, and he isn’t really sure what to do with himself. He scrolls social media for a while, and then he channel surfs for a bit, but nothing keeps his attention for more than a few minutes. God, how did he spend so much time alone when he lived in New York?

He decides to read for a while, and gets up off the couch to grab his book from where he left it on Patrick’s nightstand when he hesitates, his attention drawn to Patrick’s bed — or, more specifically, under the bed, where David happens to know there’s a box full of… sexual accoutrements. Most of them are his, some that Patrick was keeping in his room at Ray’s and more that David brought to the apartment, he and Patrick agreeing it made far more sense to keep them here than in the love room back at the motel where he doesn’t even have the privacy to use them.

He can’t remember the last time he was able to take his time getting himself off, slow and luxurious; ever since he came to Schitt’s Creek masturbation has been quick and quiet in the shower, or occasionally careful and silent in bed.

And when is he likely to have another chance like this?

He slides the box out from under Patrick’s bed, pulling the lid off and rifling quickly through the collection of toys. The first thing he pulls out is one of his many butt plugs, the green glass cool and unyielding and delicious. He also takes out the set of nipple clamps they added to one of their online orders a while ago, David’s cock giving an interested twitch at the memory of Patrick panting and gasping as David had tugged on the chain connecting them the first night in the new apartment, his yelling so loud David was genuinely concerned they were going to get a noise complaint before they’d even finished unpacking. He hesitates for a moment before grabbing one more toy — a fleshlight he’s owned for a long time, and barely used recently. It’s the sort of toy that’s great for going slow, for getting himself to the edge and then pulling back over and over until he’s shaking. It’s not the sort of toy that’s conducive to rooms being shared with family members, that’s for sure.

He piles the toys he’s chosen on the bed, places the lid back on the box and shoves it back into place under the bed, and goes to take a shower.


An hour later he’s spread out naked on Patrick’s bed, butt plug filling him up nicely and almost distracting him from the delicious stinging bite of the clamps around his nipples. He coated his dick in far more lube than he normally uses and the fleshlight is incredibly slippery as he pumps it up and down, as slow as he can bear while he drags the other hand up his stomach until it finds the chain resting on his abdomen and then he tugs, the sharp ache in his nipples making him groan loudly as he does. He’s gotten himself to the edge twice already, and from the way his toes are starting to curl and his breath is too harsh in the otherwise quiet room he’s sure he’s heading for a third time soon. He lets his eyes flutter shut, the grip of the rubber surrounding him, and he clenches down on the plug as he loses himself in the same fantasy he was having a few days ago: Patrick behind him, driving into him and breathing harsh in his ear while in front of him, a woman — it’s his fantasy, so she’s a very attractive hybrid of Kate Winslet and Mila Kunis — runs her hands over his chest, fingernails tweaking sharply at his nipples as he thrusts inside her. He’s just starting to feel a familiar tightening in his stomach when the sound of the key sliding into the lock jolts him back to awareness, and he tenses with his cock still buried inside the toy.

Why the fuck did Patrick have to get a studio apartment? He has no time to hide, to toss the toys into a drawer and wriggle under the blankets and pretend he wasn’t doing what he’s very obviously doing — all he can do is wait, heart thumping as Patrick steps inside the door and glances absently in David’s direction before freezing, the greeting clearly dying on his lips as he takes in David’s flustered and aroused state.

“Hi.” Patrick pulls off his cap, dropping it and his keys haphazardly on the table before he walks over to the bed, eyes dark. “Did I say you could stop?”

A frisson of heat runs through David at the words, and he drags the fleshlight up to the head of his cock before pushing it down again slowly, watching with satisfaction as Patrick’s eyes follow the movement. “You going to join me?”

“But you’re already putting on such a good show.” The speed with which Patrick is unbuttoning his shirt belies the teasing words and David watches him undress, keeping up the almost torturously slow movement of his hand, no longer sure whether it’s him or Patrick that’s being teased more by it. Soon enough Patrick is naked, already hard as he climbs onto his side of the bed and rolls David gently onto his side, his fingers brushing the base of the plug as he lets out a low moan.

“Are you full enough?”

The thing is, David knows it’s a genuine question. If he said yes, actually, the plug’s what I want right now Patrick would smile, and kiss his shoulder, and jerk off while he watched David, and it wouldn’t be a problem; maybe he’d even wait to come until after David did, taking the fleshlight off him and adding his own… anyway. That’s something to explore another time, because right now, with another option right in front of him (or, well, technically behind him) David is decidedly not ‘full enough’.

David clears his throat, licking surprisingly dry lips and not even caring that the words come out in a needy whine. “I’m really not. Please fuck me.”

“Only because you asked so nicely.” He picks up the lube from where David had dropped it on the bed, and David can’t see him but from the way his breath hitches he can only assume Patrick has pulled a condom out of the bedside table and has rolled it on before slicking himself up. And then dexterous fingers are slipping between his ass cheeks, gripping the base of the plug and pulling it out smoothly, and David barely gets a second to pout about the sudden emptiness before Patrick is angling himself and pressing inside him in one long, smooth stroke.

“God, David, fuck.” Patrick presses his lips just below David’s ear, scraping his teeth along the sensitive skin. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are? What it does to me, coming home and seeing you like this?”

David tilts his head back until it meets Patrick’s shoulder. “Fuck me.” He gasps the words out, the dual sensations of Patrick inside him and the toy clenching around his dick already overwhelming. “Patrick, please, please fuck me.”

Patrick pulls all the way out until just the head of his cock is pressed inside David — and then he stops, fingers brushing soothingly along David’s shoulders as David groans. He presses a light kiss to David’s shoulder and David can feel the smirk curving the corners of his lips. “Actually, seeing as you were quite happy doing this on your own… I think you should keep going.”

In his hazy, on-edge state, David can’t quite follow. “What?”

A hand wraps around David’s where it’s clutching the fleshlight so tight his knuckles are starting to ache. “Hold this here.” Patrick’s voice is low and soothing, right in his ear, and David can’t do anything but nod. “And I’m going to stay right here. And you’re going to fuck yourself until you come.”

David whimpers as the mental image floods through him, and then he nods frantically. He presses back experimentally into Patrick and is rewarded with a long moan, and then he pulls away, pushing forward into the toy instead. He does this a few more times until he finds his rhythm, and then Patrick’s hand slides over his shoulder and down his chest to the chain still connecting the nipple clamps.

“Please.” David barely manages to choke the word out but it’s enough for Patrick to understand him, enough that he tugs the chain up sharply enough to make David gasp, his thrusts becoming faster and more erratic as all the warring sensations threaten to overwhelm him. It’s so much, just the right side of too much, and then Patrick sinks his teeth into David’s shoulder and David comes with a loud cry, pushing all the way into the toy as he does.

“David, fuck, fuck.” As soon as David has relaxed back into the mattress Patrick is pulling out of him, and there’s a moment of fumbling before the unmistakable sound of Patrick’s hand moving quickly over his dick, his forehead resting between David’s shoulder blades. And David desperately wants to roll over, wants to watch, wants to offer the fleshlight, wants to help, but his body won’t cooperate and all he can do is listen as Patrick’s breath speeds up until he finally gasps David’s name as he comes.

They just lie there for a moment, both catching their breath. Eventually David lets Patrick pull him out of bed and towards the shower, clamps and toys left on the bed to be cleaned afterwards. They crowd in together and kiss lazily until the water runs cold, and David can’t help but think about how ridiculously domestic the whole thing is.

Notes:

Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on Tumblr.

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