The Church Boys ➸ Peterick/Brentrick

23: When Doves Cry

Patrick's finals passed by quickly. He knew he did well on all of them, mostly because he didn't have much left to do other than study for them.

Even though he resented Pete, he was still taking the job in LA, but before he left he was hanging out with Joe. Realistically he left on Tuesday to move the necessities to his Aunt's house in Los Angeles. It was Saturday, though, and with not many friends from school it wasn't a big deal. He was hanging out with the baseball kids on Monday, most likely, and then he was leaving.

"I sorta want to bleach my hair. Do you think that's a stupid idea?" Patrick asked, watching Joe smoke his joint.

"Nah, I sort of want to too."

Silence. It was about three minutes of it, in fact.

"Joe? Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah, course. What's up?"

"Do you think that not wanting sex turns people away from me? Like, does it make a relationship with me unappealing?"

Joe was quiet for a moment. "It depends on the person. Some people don't want sex until marriage, others want it every other day."

Patrick thought this over for a moment. "What if I just... did it one day? I mean, had sex. Would people change their opinions of me?"

"Yes and no. Some people would be more open to date you, because the gays live for sex. But others would be hypocritical and call you a whore." Joe sat up, blunt still in hand as he took another puff. "You see, it's a double ended sword. If you've had sex, you're a slut, but if you haven't you're a prude."

"Did you just quote the Breakfast Club?"

Joe considered this for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I just did, huh?"

Patrick laughed softly, shaking his head. They went quiet, Patrick looking down. He knew he was getting a second hand high, but he almost wanted to just get stoned.

"Joe?"

"Hm?"

"I think I'm getting high."

"Not surprised...want an edible?"

"Sure."

Patrick took the rice crispy treat and ate the small cube. It had a grassy taste that made it almost unappealing, but he finished it before looking at Joe. He couldn't get the taste of grass and dirt out of his mouth.

"Fuck me."

"What?"

"Fuck me, will you?"

"It's only been like three minutes, there's no way-"

"I'm asking this sober. Or, sort of. I'm not stoned or drunk, Joe, I just...want you to fuck me."

He was clearly hesitant. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Patrick, I...I don't really do 'vanilla' unless I'm tired and horny at once."

"Okay."

Surprised, but nodding, Joe got up to lock his door. "You're glad there's nobody home right now," he said softly, settling back in front of Patrick and extinguishing his blunt. He'd light back up after this.

The thing is, between baseball and whatever the fuck Patrick had been doing to lose weight, he wasn't unattractive at all. If anything, he was highly fuckable. Joe didn't want a romantic relationship with Patrick though, but it seemed like Patrick felt the same way.

Joe was digging through his dresser drawers for awhile. "I'll try to make this as comfortable for you as possible, but it's still gonna hurt."

"I understand."