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damagereportTitle: Thnks fr th Knckrs
Summary: for thesosodirty kinkathon; prompt: panties.
Author:icedmaple
Betas:heyginger, untelling, likethepaint & shiny_starlight at various points; with special sizing, locale and awesomeness assistance from riotingofspring (even though most of it was cut). Thanks also to delustre for being available in my hour of need.
Rating: R
Pairing: Joe/Patrick
Words: c. 12,000
Author's notes: Stretching the boundaries of my general style on this one; all IM typos are the boys' and the events at the first two shows are based on genuine events (see:thnksfrthknkrs). What happened afterward, is to the best of my knowledge entirely untrue.
This fic was just too long to be a single post, so I've divided it more or less in the middle - it's around 12,000 words in total.
Thnks Fr Th Knckrs.
Besides, we've got such good fashion sense.
It took Patrick several seconds to establish what the brightly coloured pile at his feet actually was. He leaned forward, still fretting out the chords, and squinted at the shocking pink and electric blue garment on the edge of the stage – it actually looked a lot like –
Dude! Oh my God...
Mortified, he backed away, feeling himself blushing and hurrying over to his mic, catching Pete's eye for a second as he went; trying to convey, 'Please tell me those aren't what I think they are!' as his friend sauntered unsubtly over to Joe's side of the stage, where the offending item still rested.
He could tell by the broad, leering grin on Pete's face that oh yes, yes they were definitely what they'd thought they were. Charlie had ducked onto the stage to retrieve them and was brandishing them delightedly: a pair of obnoxiously bright, lacy panties with blue trim and fucking ribbons dangling cheerfully from the sides. He tried to hand them to Jeanae, who recoiled, cackling, and they were instead passed to Dirty – which was something of a relief, because they would inevitably have been lost by the end of the next song anyway.
Or so he'd hoped.
When he stumbled off stage, grasping for the nearest towel and peeling off his jacket with a sweaty grimace, glasses still missing, he was met with a hysterical blur of colour rushing past him and a chorus of caterwauling laughter.
"Hey – hey, boss, you forgot your panties, man!"
Patrick squinted and blinked the sweat out of his eyes before shoving his glasses back on.
Dirty stood before him, a proud grin on his face and a pair of pink and blue lace panties stretched over the cap on his head.
"Thanks, Dirt – but you're welcome to keep them... Maybe Beth would like some projectile undergarments or something..."
"Nah, her butt's too big what with the baby and everything... not that I mind..." Dirty shrugged sincerely, as if it had been a serious offer, and tugged the knickers from his head.
"Dirty! I told you to put them on – not put them on your head!" Charlie bellowed, catching him in a playful headlock and dragging him – choking over-dramatically – several feet into the dressing room. "Never fucking listens..."
"They only – get off! – they only fitted on my head, man."
"That's because you're too much of a fat fuck."
"And also," Pete agreed, walking in and plucking the panties from Dirty's grasp, "they're fucking ugly."
"Then why don't you try them on?" Patrick muttered, wishing Jeanae would wander back out so he could take off his shirt, which was clinging to his skin as if he'd taken a shower in it.
"Give 'em to Troh, he'll do it..."
"I'll do what?" Joe demanded suspiciously, ambling in with a water bottle sportscap tucked into the corner of him mouth.
"Patrick wants you to try on his panties."
"No, I don't!"
"Patrick wears panties?" Joe asked, cocking his head and gazing at him curiously for a moment.
Pete snorted from across the room. "Probably."
"Asshole."
"Tranny." Pete licked his finger and drew a number one in the air, then tossed the panties at Joe, who entirely failed to catch them, but none the less tracked them down under a chair and examined them contemplatively.
"They're like, brand new..."
"Nah, they probably came from some tween or something, kind of."
"No, dude – there's still a tag, here. They're new."
Joe shrugged and stuck his bottom lip out, and when Patrick turned around to see what everyone was whooping and howling about, Joe was adjusting himself with the shocking-pink garment pulled over his jeans like some kind of superhero drag act.
"Oh my God."
"Whadya think? Personally, I'm thinking they're pretty damn sexy..."
"They're not really your colour, Joe."
"No! No – look, the ribbons totally accentuate my eyes!"
"Bro, with those on, no fuck's looking at your eyes..." Pete assured him drily.
Patrick tutted and turned back to his bag; he wasn't going to indulge them. He gathered his things and made his way out to the bus, and that – he hoped – was going to be the end of that.
----
In the early hours of the next morning, having spent the evening after the show slumped on the bed and playing "Guess the Plot Twist" on some made-for-TV movie about a middle-aged woman tracking down a holiday fling from her teens, Joe found himself yawning widely and patting Patrick on the back as he rolled wearily off the mattress beside him and announced that he was going to bed.
"Hope the bed-bugs don't bite..."
"How reassuring. Thanks, man."
"You're welcome," Joe grinned, climbing to his feet as Patrick picked up his keycard from the dresser and shuffled to the door. "See you in the morning..."
"Not if I see you first."
Laughing gently as Patrick closed the door behind himself, Joe scratched absently at his belly and pulled his bag toward him to look for some clean boxers to put on after his bedtime shower. And there they were: the pink lacy panties with the blue ribbons.
He didn't know how they'd got there – although he could hazard an educated guess – he just knew he hadn't put them there himself. Smirking, he held them up to study them again. They were actually kind of fun-looking – like they should belong to someone with a sense of irony and who didn't take themselves too seriously. To be perfectly frank, he didn't know too many girls like that, but he lived in hope that some existed.
Catching sight of himself in the full-length mirror on the wall, he chuckled and held them up across his hips, admiring his reflection. He'd always sort of wondered about girls' underwear – it always looked so scratchy and uncomfortable; and so skimpy. But it was so much more imaginative than what guys got to wear – way more interesting than tighty-whities, or jockey shorts or those horrendous cock-cupping thong things with bowties or slogans attached. Well. Now he had an opportunity to find out, didn't he? He was getting into the shower anyway, so he may as well just give it a go quickly – for a laugh. What harm could it do?
Hurriedly, and still chuckling to himself, he pulled off his shirt, dropped his pants and balanced on one wobbly leg to pull the panties on.
Not... not actually that bad...
He took a moment to arrange himself, twisting slightly to regard his reflection, and then paused to tie the bright blue ribbons dangling from the waistband into careful little bows. He'd just picked up the ends of the second one when the hotel room door swung open and Patrick ducked back in, wielding the keycard he had picked up on his way out. It seemed to take him a second to even look up and realise what he'd stumbled in on, but when he did his eyes widened almost beyond the realms of plausibility and he turned a bright, fiery red.
Neither of them said anything, they just gaped at each other dumbly; Joe's eyes on Patrick's mortified expression, Patrick's eyes on the rather revealing lace stretched over Joe's crotch.
It was a hideous stalemate – neither of them able to move or speak or seemingly even think about how to react until Patrick was met with some surge of sense or reality, and he scurried to the dresser, switched the card in his hand for the one he'd left behind, and made a very, very quick exit.
It took a week before he'd look Joe in the eye again, but he'd definitely learned to knock.
----
The sight of one of his best friends practically naked, except for virtually see-through girls' knickers, was scarred on to Patrick's retinas for days after it happened. They didn't mention it; things like that were best left well alone – it was an accepted convention between dudes: either you went out of your way to mock and destroy your bud's reputation, or you literally took the experience to your grave.
However, when they returned to Hammersmith a few months later and an absolute torrent of women's undergarments was launched in their general direction – one pair, large enough to act as marquee, leaving the stage atop Gabe's beaming head – it rather ripped the scab from that old wound.
He could tell by the look on Joe's face that this was not his favourite moment ever.
The only way of handling it, as per the unwritten rules of Brodom, was to mock him horribly for his previous indiscretion. And that was why, as they finished up in the dressing room, ready to head to the hotel – lingering after everyone else had run off down the corridor whooping – Patrick crept up behind Joe as he checked for messages on his phone, and dangled the prettiest and most outrageous pair he'd found from the pile Dirty had collected, right in front of his nose.
"Saw these, and thought of you..." he informed him in a stage whisper, letting them fall; the shimmering greyish-lilac and black lace frills dropping into the hand Joe automatically extended to catch them.
He turned to scowl back at Patrick, his phone still pressed to his ear, but Patrick was already backing away and picking up his bag. He blew Joe a taunting little kiss and made a hasty exit, jogging to catch up with everyone else.
Four hours later, tucked into his bunk with his laptop propped on his knees, he received a soft ping! from his email notification and absently clicked on the pop-up for his message.
It took a moment to realise that there was an attachment, and at best Patrick expected a gif of a gigantic donkey penis or a prolapsed anus, or something equally revolting; he did not expect a slightly over-exposed photograph of the inside of Joe's bunk, and a close-up shot of Joe's bare stomach and thighs, the light from the flash reflecting from the contours of the shiny fabric from the panties Patrick had given him.
There was a sharp lurch in the pit of Patrick's stomach. "Oh my God!"
He hurriedly clicked delete – several times more than was necessary – and covered his mouth with his hands in horror.
"What?" Charlie's voice asked from the bunk above him.
"Uh... just. Um. Nothing."
"Stop looking at porn."
"I wasn't!"
"Whatever."
"I said I wasn't!"
"I bet he was," Joe's voice chimed in mischievously from across the aisle.
"You – " Patrick spluttered, wanting to glare out of his bunk at him, but knowing that he was far too red in the face and also, far from sure he could look Joe in the eye ever again. "You just... go to bed or something."
"I am in bed."
"Shut up!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up!" Andy cut in. "I can't hear the TV!"
They did as they were told, and Patrick turned his attention back to his computer, pinching the bridge of his nose as he remembered what he had seen mere moments before. That dude was such a freak. Who the hell did that? Seriously?
Ugh.
Shaking his head, Patrick picked up his laptop and gazed dully at the screen. He totally had to get back at him for that. Almost on impulse, he ran his fingers across the touchpad and clicked on the trash icon. He should keep the picture. For blackmail.
He opened it, to save the file, and for a moment he found himself lingering on the image, absently noting that those panties were far more attractive than the ones he'd originally caught Joe posing in; he deserved a pat on the back for his taste in ladies' underwear, that was for sure. And the material – although clearly not real satin – had an attractive shimmer to it; and it flattered certain parts of his anatomy in ways Patrick thought perhaps all guys could profit from. If they knew about it, that was. But they didn't. Because most guys didn't wear girls' knickers or send photographs of themselves doing so to their friends. Or, more importantly, hide in their bunks looking at said photographs of their friends with quite this much interest. They almost certainly didn't look at the picture and want to smooth their hands over the fabric to see if it felt any more luxurious stretched over skin than it had balled into his hand.
He closed his eyes tightly and manoeuvred his fingers across his touchpad from memory, trying to save the image without looking at it again.
And then there was another soft bloop from his laptop, causing him to open one eye curiously, to find a pop-up from his instant messaging program on the screen in front of him.
TrohrannosaurusRex: So, on a scale of 1 to seriously fucking hot...
Patrick balked at the screen and hurriedly typed back his response:
SophomoreStump: You are a horrrible person.
There was a short pause and then:
TrohrannosaurusRex: Admit it – you think theyre hot.
SophomoreStump: Shut up.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You're not denying it then? Haha.
SophomoreStump: You're a pervert.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Haha. You love it. Don't pretend.
Patrick's heart was thumping inexplicably hard in his chest and he could feel himself breaking into a cold sweat.
SophomoreStump: Don't try to get me involved with your kinky panty thing, Trohman.
TrohrannosaurusRex: TECHNICALLY they're your panties... and you like gave them to me...
SophomoreStump: It was a joke!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that...
SophomoreStump: You are such a creep!
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm a creep in sexy panties that you gave me tho, dude.
He wasn't even sure why he typed it, but before he knew what he was doing, Patrick had asked:
SophomoreStump: You still have them on??
TrohrannosaurusRex: ;) Ohhhh yeah.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Why? Wanna see?
SophomoreStump: NO!
SophomoreStump: Everyone is right there you freak!
TrohrannosaurusRex: And if they wasn't?
SophomoreStump: You'd still be a creepy perv.
That time he could actually hear Joe chuckling in his bunk.
SophomoreStump: I've got the point, now, ok?
TrohrannosaurusRex: Oh really?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I knew they were like hot and stuff but seriously...
TrohrannosaurusRex: but it's all good. i wont think any less of you for having seriously excellent taste.
TrohrannosaurusRex: They're pretty sexy actualy.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You should try them.
SophomoreStump: No!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Aww why not?
SophomoreStump: Because I'm a man!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Seriously? You have better boobs than most girls I know.
TrohrannosaurusRex: But like... it's only fun right?
SophomoreStump: You asshole!
SophomoreStump: Stop bitching about my fucking weight it's not funny.
SophomoreStump: And no!
SophomoreStump: I don't think it's fun. Ok?
There was another weighty pause before Joe responded, and Patrick found himself talking a long, deep breath to try to steady his nerves, tapping his fingers jitterishly at the plastic casing under his hand.
TrohrannosaurusRex: I was just kidding about the boobs.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Bbut I totally think you should try the panties.
SophomoreStump: BUT WHY?!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Why not?
TrohrannosaurusRex: They're just clothes.
SophomoreStump: Yeah – so why bother?
TrohrannosaurusRex: Because it's kind of sexy...
SophomoreStump: Why do you want me to be sexy?!
TrohrannosaurusRexe: Im rolling my eyes at you right now you know that right?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm just SAYING you should try it. It's cool and it's not gonna make God kill baby animals or anything...
TrohrannosaurusRex: Get a sense of humour dude, geez...
SophomoreStump: I have a sense of humour! But I also like to have some dignity.
SophomoreStump: Now stop bugging me.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Why?
TrohrannosaurusRex: So you can have a couple of private minutes with my pic?
SophomoreStump: I hate you
SophomoreStump: Go away.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You go first.
SophomoreStump: FINE!
Patrick slammed down the lid of his laptop and stowed it in the magazine pouch at the foot of his bunk. He was going to go to sleep and forget about the whole damn thing. Fucking Trohman... who the hell thought their friends wanted to see them in panties, anyway? Who the hell wanted to see their friends in panties?
He punched his pillow irritably, hoping to make it more comfortable, and settled down to sleep. No sooner had he closed his eyes, though, than he was met with visions of the picture, tacked to the backs of his eyelids; that glossy material stretched over the clearly defined curve of Joe's dick, the way it emphasised and accentuated it to make it seem far larger than it ever had when Patrick had caught him in regular boxers in the past.
It took him a long time and a sudden clench in his chest to realise the reason that Joe seemed bigger than he remembered; he was half hard under that shimmering material. And if he was turned on then, what the hell was he doing now?!
The cracks between the curtains on Patrick's bunk spilled no light from outside, and everyone else had fallen quiet, save for snores and the occasional murmur of one dude or other talking in his sleep, but amid the deep breathing, Patrick was sure he could hear a much shallower rasp from across the aisle. There was an occasional quiet rustle of fabric and barely perceptible creak of movement in the bunk opposite.
Oh my God.
He rolled carefully on to his back to listen – telling himself he was just making sure that he was imagining things – but the mental image lingered; Joe's hand slipping beneath the smooth, delicate material, letting it bunch and slip down a little from the angle of his tattooed wrist...
The abrupt silence from the opposite bunk was what alerted him to the involuntary gasp he had issued as his own hand found its way into his boxers. He hadn't meant to – he certainly hadn't wanted to – but something else had driven him. He was tired; overworked. Maybe he just needed a break.
But there was a tiny, unmistakeable laugh from the bunk beside him and the sound of motion resumed; more deliberate this time, accompanied by small but just audible sighs.
He knows you're listening, dude. He totally knows. And yet, he hadn't stopped; and neither had Patrick. He caught his lip between his teeth and closed his eyes to better visualise the careful movements being made just a couple of feet away; to echo them, always imagining the feel of the material against his hand.
----
Waking up, the next morning, still wearing the garment of the night before, Joe couldn't help laughing to himself. He was a laidback guy with an open mind, and he was always happy to indulge a new experience; provided it wasn't likely to result in his immediate incarceration or death. He had no qualms about being risqué with other dudes – he'd made out with guys in his younger years, mostly for dares, and even gone so far as to jerk off one of the dudes who had briefly tried out as their second guitarist, purely because Pete had implied that he wouldn't have the skill. Growing up in that environment there had been stupid games and circle jerks all the time – it really all meant nothing – but he knew for a fact that Patrick had never involved himself in such shenanigans because he always left if he thought things were getting too fruity.
Knowing that he'd managed to coax him into such licentious behaviour was actually something to be rather smug about, as far as Joe was concerned. Not that he planned to share the information; that would require explaining the panties and he kind of wanted to keep that element to himself, for now.
The first time he saw Patrick that day, he was climbing out of his bunk, looking blushed and dishevelled, and Joe found himself grinning at him knowingly. Patrick did not seem amused; he snatched up his jeans and a t-shirt and pulled them on, then made a quick exit to find some breakfast in the kitchenette. Nobody else was up, except Andy, who was busy stretching for his morning workout, in the lot outside. Joe followed Patrick into the back of the bus, and pulled the door shut behind him.
"Good morning," he murmured, playfully patting Patrick's ass as he squeezed past.
Patrick glowered at the toaster, as if that would make it cook his breakfast quicker, and pretended he hadn't heard.
"So... you really like the panties, then, huh?"
No answer.
"I told you they were sexy. Which I mean, I totally think that you like, knew already..."
"Leave me alone."
"Aw, dude, that's just like... cruel, basically. I thought you cared."
Patrick flipped him off and turned around with his plate, approaching the breakfast bench and sitting as far away from Joe as he physically could, his face as red as the cherry goo easing its way between the edges of his Pop Tarts.
"Are you like, trying to tell me you haven't changed your mind about the panties?" Joe prompted in a jokey half-whisper, shifting closer and enjoying the wary look Patrick gave him in return.
"You are such a creep."
"You weren't saying that last night, dude."
Sighing heavily, Patrick dropped his half-nibbled Pop Tart back on his plate and demanded, "What is your obsession with this? Seriously?"
"You started it," Joe shrugged back without missing a beat.
"I so did not!"
"You totally did."
"I wasn't the one running around in girls' underwear!"
"Um, yeah, and I wasn't the one who was like, walking into other dudes' hotel rooms uninvited."
"That," Patrick told him seriously, "was an accident."
Joe shrugged and looked at him sidelong. "Whatever. It's not like I minded."
Patrick almost choked on his Pop Tart.
"I mean, like... it was weird, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't freaked out or anything, basically. I mean, like... they're just clothes, like I said."
"But they're girls' clothes, Joe!"
"Doesn't stop Pete and you don't freak out at him."
"Jeans are way, way different."
"How?"
"Well... they're... I mean... they look the same!"
"If they looked the same why not just wear dudes' ones?"
"Because they don't fit right. He's too short. You know that."
"That's what he tells you, anyway..." Joe teased, knowing full well that it was in fact the actual reason Pete wore them, but finding Patrick's squirming delightfully fun.
"It's not the same as wearing panties, though! It's just not."
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, dude... I mean, you never wanted to join in the group activities when we were kids, if you know what I mean, but you were totally into it last night..."
"Joe," Patrick began, in the warning tone that usually meant a tantrum was imminent, "you will never speak of that again, you understand? Never."
Joe shrugged and stole the corner of Patrick's other Pop Tart. "Alright."
"Really?"
"Sure... but like... only if you actually try the panties."
"What?! No!"
"Well, I just mean like, it's down to you, dude... I think you're missing out, basically."
"And if I don't?"
"I dunno, dude... I'm not so into fooling around with dudes who are too uptight to acknowledge they're even into it."
"I never even said I wanted to fool around with you!" Patrick told him indignantly.
"Actions speak louder than words, my friend," Joe told him, grinning and stealing the rest of the Pop Tart, then getting up and going to find out where the nearest showers were.
----
There was a time, after the incident in the bus, when they all just went home. For the first few days, Patrick didn't even speak to Joe. They were a couple of thousand miles apart with hardly anything to say to each other anyway; they'd been together 24/7 for weeks and it was a relief to have a breather. And yet, somehow, Patrick couldn't help thinking about the last night in the bus and what the hell he'd been thinking.
He didn't do that shit. He just didn't.
But then, he couldn't help feeling just a little excited at the prospect of Joe being in LA, and when his cell buzzed in his pocket the night before Joe flew down, with the simple question, "Shall I?" Patrick knew exactly what he was asking.
Do what you want.
He could even picture the mischievous smile on Joe's face as he pressed send.
They went for dinner, the next night; Patrick, Joe, Pete and Dan, who had been down in California ever since they returned. Andy wasn't due until the next day, and the dynamic was strange – Patrick found himself distracted by the absence and intermittently wandered back into his own thoughts. At least, that was what he convinced himself was his reason.
He caught Joe grinning at him speculatively from time to time, and glowered back, knowing exactly what Joe was thinking but unable to tell him to get his goddamn mind out of the gutter because there was no way he'd get involved in his weird little games again. Joe just kept on grinning.
When Pete disappeared to the bathroom and Dan ducked out to take a call, Joe sat back in his chair and bumped Patrick's ankle under the table.
"So, can I get a ride?"
Patrick balked at him. "We are not talking about this here!" he hissed.
Across the table, Joe spluttered with laughter. "A ride, dude! Like home. Back to my apartment."
"Oh."
"I'm kind of like... open to interpretation, though..." he grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Patrick didn't have time to respond before Pete returned, clutching a dessert menu triumphantly and rambling about ice cream sundaes with sparklers in. There was no way in hell Patrick was discussing this in front of him, so he glared at Joe and made a mental note to call him a freak when they were alone.
----
"So, I got you a present," Joe announced, reaching into the pocket of his jacket as they sat at a junction, waiting for their turn to go.
"It's not my birthday for two weeks, dude," Patrick told him absently, leaning forward a little to look up at the traffic lights. This was a notoriously slow signal and they could be there for a couple of minutes, yet.
"It's not a birthday present." He held out the plastic bag, unable to suppress the chuckle of anticipation at Patrick's uneasy glance.
"They're panties, aren't they?" he muttered flatly, before he'd even reached out to take the bag from where it dangled from Joe's fingertip.
"Don't like, guess, dude! Take a look."
Sighing impatiently, Patrick snatched the bag from Joe's hand and peered inside; there was a short pause before he pulled out the gift.
"I'm pretty sure they're your size," Joe assured him, watching gleefully as Patrick held up the pale blue garment in front of the steering wheel. They were almost boyish in cut, but covered in layer after layer of light, delicate frills. He'd thought it best to ease him in with something a little more sedate than a scarlet thong...
"Joe..."
"I figured they were like, a little bit retro and kind of old-fashioned, so they were pretty like, you, basically..."
"Joe."
"I'm just saying try them, y'know? What could go wrong, honestly?"
"I bet that's what you thought, right before I walked in..."
"Well, yeah. But I don't call that 'wrong'. Tripping over while putting them on and like, smashing my head on a piece of furniture and then like, being found by a chamber maid half naked with girls' underwear on and taken to the hospital like that... that would be it going wrong. But it didn't, so like – what's the big deal?"
Patrick just stared at him dully until the driver behind honked to point out that the light had changed, and he put the car in drive.
"What am I going to have to do to make you drop this, Joe?"
"Easy. Just try them on."
"And that's it?"
"Yes," Joe promised earnestly. "Yes, just try them on. Then I'll drop it. When I've seen the proof."
"Proof?!" Patrick half-yelled, nearly rear-ending the vehicle in front.
"Well, it's only fair... and like... when you've tried them on, and realised it's seriously, seriously hot, then you can come back and tell me I was right and like... whatever."
"There isn't going to be any 'whatever'."
Joe just smirked to himself.
----
When he got back to his apartment, Patrick dropped his keys on the table and slumped down onto his couch. He pulled the panties out of his pocket and held them up in front of his face doubtfully.
They'd never fit; but he did like them. They reminded him of the kind pin-up girls wore with basques and garters. He had no idea why the hell Joe thought they'd suit him, though. Truth be told, he was just a tiny, tiny bit put out that he hadn't even bought him the sheer, shiny kind – these would hide his assets rather than anything else. If he was really planning to try them on; which he wasn't. Not really. Well. Maybe just long enough to get the damn proof and show Joe that he'd done it, so they never had to speak of this again.
He lay there on his couch for quite some time, chewing his bottom lip until it was almost raw, and studying the panties carefully. And then, finally, with a sudden rush of determination to just get this over with, he scrambled to his feet, grabbed his laptop from the dining table in the corner, and headed for the bedroom, locking the door firmly behind him and making sure the blinds were safely drawn to ensure no telephoto lens was catching this.
He undressed slowly, more to stave off the inevitable than anything else, waiting for his computer to finish logging on. He'd put the panties on, take a photo with his webcam and send it to Joe; then it would all be over. Done. He could totally handle this. He just had to be a man about it.
Finally, taking a long, slow breath, he picked up the underwear and stepped carefully into it, pulling them up to sit surprisingly comfortably at his hips. Joe's judgement had been better than he'd thought; and when he looked up and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wardrobe door, he realised they were actually more flattering than he'd expected. The shape of the delicate lace frills actually suggested there was a lot more underneath them than there was, even on Patrick, who considered himself more than acceptably gifted in that department.
He adjusted himself a little, twisting to look over his shoulder and see if they were as flattering from behind and almost gave himself a heart attack when his computer made an unexpected bloop.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You're still up, then?
Patrick paused to catch his breath, almost winded by the fright of thinking – even for a nanosecond – that he'd been caught, and then moved to kneel down beside his bed.
SophomoreStump: Yes.
SophomoreStump: And so are you.
TrohrannosaurusRex: That's very observant of you.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Good work, Captain Obvious.
TrohrannosaurusRex: But actually I'm not up. I'm in bed.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Thank you, wireless internet.
SophomoreStump: Yeah.
SophomoreStump: I'm pretty much the same right now.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Are you wearing your panties?
Patrick's heart skipped several beats and he could feel a familiar twisting in his stomach.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You are, aren't you?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I mean I was kidding when I asjed but you totally are.
SophomoreStump: As it happens, I was going to give you this proof you want, yes.
TrohrannosaurusRex: AWESOME.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Come on. Admit that they're hot.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Because they are.
TrohrannosaurusRex: They're like... kinky or something.
SophomoreStump: Do you want this picture or not?
TrohrannosaurusRex: Totally!
SophomoreStump: Then stop being a smart ass.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Im not being a smart ass dude!
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm serious.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Yuo're like way convinced I'm just tryin to embarrass you but I'm totally not
SophomoreStump: Bullshit.
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm serious!
There was a short pause, then:
TrohrannosaurusRex: Turn on your webcam.
SophomoreStump: Why?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I want to see.
TrohrannosaurusRex: and then I can like show you how serious I am.
SophomoreStump: What do you mean?
TrohrannosaurusRexhas invited you to a Video session. Activate webcam?
SophomoreStump: my microphones broken on this thing.
SophomoreStump: There's no point doing this.
TrohrannosaurusRex: I don't need to hear you, dude, I just need to see.
TrohrannosaurusRex: you cn still type to me.
Reluctantly, Patrick accepted the session and was met with a pop-up of Joe, propped against pillows, the light from the screen glinting on the lenses of his glasses.
"Ohhh. Hey. There we go."
Patrick took a deep breath and typed his response.
SophomoreStump: Yes. Clearly.
"Wait. Are you like... naked, or something?"
SophomoreStump: I have the panties on.
SophomoreStump: Like you asked.
"Cool! Can I see?"
SophomoreStump: If this ever gets out I'll kill you with my bare hands I promise.
"Oh, c'mon! Like I'd do that to you..." Joe argued, looking wounded. "Here – show of solidarity..."
There were clicks and shuffles as Joe lifted his Macbook and turned it around to face down the length of the bed, displaying the fact that he was covered – barely – in a black, lacy pair that Patrick hadn't seen before, sitting neatly beneath his tattoo and draping small frills over the curve where his hip met his thigh.
Patrick's breath caught in his throat and he couldn't help staring dumbly at the scene in front of him.
"See?" Joe's voice asked from beyond the view of the webcam built into his computer. "This is totally about introducing you to something like, majorly hot..." He turned the computer back around to face him, and smiled at the screen. "Oh man. You really like panties..."
Blinking hurriedly and trying to smother the dazed look on his face, Patrick typed back.
SophomoreStump: Maybe I'm just shocked that one of my best friends keeps showing me what he looks like in women's underwear.
"Oh, please, Patrick! How long have I known you? I've like, seen your 'I would so tap that' face a billion times. And I mean, it's not like I've forgotten what happened last time you knew I was wearing something like this... I'm guessing it's got next to nothing to do with me, so like... it must be the panties."
Patrick really had nothing to say, except:
SophomoreStump: Do you want to see these or not?
"Obviously! I've only been trying to get you in some for like, ages..."
SophomoreStump: If you laugh, that's it. I'm logging off.
"I won't. I promise, dude, I won't."
Taking a deep breath, Patrick carefully pressed his hands to the side of the mattress and stood up, bringing himself within the range of the webcam and spreading his hands in presentation. He turned slowly on the spot to show Joe all the necessary angles and the moved to kneel back down.
"Wait! Don't!"
SophomoreStump: Don't what?
"Stop! Yet. Don't stop yet..."
SophomoreStump: I did my part, Joe.
"Yeah, but... just give me a little longer... this is just like... so hot."
He could tell from the wide-eyed way Joe gazed at his screen that he wasn't kidding. His mouth was parted just a little and he seemed to be breathing a little oddly. Patrick stared back, self-consciously running his thumb under the waistband of his panties to adjust them; they were starting to feel just a little too warm and a touch restricting, compared to the loose, cotton boxers he usually wore, but with Joe staring at him like that he didn't want to take them off. Not yet. It was far too rare for someone – anyone – to look at him that way.
"Do that again."
Patrick paused and frowned at the screen for a moment.
SophomoreStump: Do what?
"Touch them. Do that again."
He wasn't even sure why his hand was shaking, but as he ran his thumb under the waistband again, and tugged awkwardly at one of the layers, he realised that he was really starting to see where Joe was coming from.
His heart was racing so hard he felt a little dizzy as he leaned down to type again, not quite sure if he was really going to ask for this.
SophomoreStump: Can I see yours?
For a second, Joe looked alarmed and Patrick winced, starting to feel a little sick – maybe this was all a prank, maybe Joe really had been trying to catch him out, after all.
"Dude... I – I kind of can't..." Joe told him, his voice sounding strained and odd.
SophomoreStump: Why not?
"Because I'm kind of like... I mean, this is really hot, if you follow my meaning."
SophomoreStump: Stop fucking with me, Joe!
SophomoreStump: I've done everything YOU asked haven't I?
"But I'm... I'm like..." There was a short pause, and Joe's screen shook and captured odd angles for a few seconds; it seemed that he was placing it further down the bed and moving around to settle himself back down. When the movement had stopped, Patrick was met with the exact angle he wanted; the laptop had been placed between Joe's thighs, facing up the bed toward the headboard – and there in the middle of the screen, looking almost as ridiculous as they did sexy, were the panties, pulled tight over the now obvious reason for Joe's hesitation. "Happy, now?"
Patrick didn't even realise that he was running his fingers over the pale blue material until Joe mumbled, "I'll take that as a yes..."
Part two.
Summary: for the
sosodirty kinkathon; prompt: panties.Author:
icedmapleBetas:
heyginger, untelling, likethepaint & shiny_starlight at various points; with special sizing, locale and awesomeness assistance from riotingofspring (even though most of it was cut). Thanks also to delustre for being available in my hour of need.Rating: R
Pairing: Joe/Patrick
Words: c. 12,000
Author's notes: Stretching the boundaries of my general style on this one; all IM typos are the boys' and the events at the first two shows are based on genuine events (see:
thnksfrthknkrs). What happened afterward, is to the best of my knowledge entirely untrue.This fic was just too long to be a single post, so I've divided it more or less in the middle - it's around 12,000 words in total.
Thnks Fr Th Knckrs.
Besides, we've got such good fashion sense.
It took Patrick several seconds to establish what the brightly coloured pile at his feet actually was. He leaned forward, still fretting out the chords, and squinted at the shocking pink and electric blue garment on the edge of the stage – it actually looked a lot like –
Dude! Oh my God...
Mortified, he backed away, feeling himself blushing and hurrying over to his mic, catching Pete's eye for a second as he went; trying to convey, 'Please tell me those aren't what I think they are!' as his friend sauntered unsubtly over to Joe's side of the stage, where the offending item still rested.
He could tell by the broad, leering grin on Pete's face that oh yes, yes they were definitely what they'd thought they were. Charlie had ducked onto the stage to retrieve them and was brandishing them delightedly: a pair of obnoxiously bright, lacy panties with blue trim and fucking ribbons dangling cheerfully from the sides. He tried to hand them to Jeanae, who recoiled, cackling, and they were instead passed to Dirty – which was something of a relief, because they would inevitably have been lost by the end of the next song anyway.
Or so he'd hoped.
When he stumbled off stage, grasping for the nearest towel and peeling off his jacket with a sweaty grimace, glasses still missing, he was met with a hysterical blur of colour rushing past him and a chorus of caterwauling laughter.
"Hey – hey, boss, you forgot your panties, man!"
Patrick squinted and blinked the sweat out of his eyes before shoving his glasses back on.
Dirty stood before him, a proud grin on his face and a pair of pink and blue lace panties stretched over the cap on his head.
"Thanks, Dirt – but you're welcome to keep them... Maybe Beth would like some projectile undergarments or something..."
"Nah, her butt's too big what with the baby and everything... not that I mind..." Dirty shrugged sincerely, as if it had been a serious offer, and tugged the knickers from his head.
"Dirty! I told you to put them on – not put them on your head!" Charlie bellowed, catching him in a playful headlock and dragging him – choking over-dramatically – several feet into the dressing room. "Never fucking listens..."
"They only – get off! – they only fitted on my head, man."
"That's because you're too much of a fat fuck."
"And also," Pete agreed, walking in and plucking the panties from Dirty's grasp, "they're fucking ugly."
"Then why don't you try them on?" Patrick muttered, wishing Jeanae would wander back out so he could take off his shirt, which was clinging to his skin as if he'd taken a shower in it.
"Give 'em to Troh, he'll do it..."
"I'll do what?" Joe demanded suspiciously, ambling in with a water bottle sportscap tucked into the corner of him mouth.
"Patrick wants you to try on his panties."
"No, I don't!"
"Patrick wears panties?" Joe asked, cocking his head and gazing at him curiously for a moment.
Pete snorted from across the room. "Probably."
"Asshole."
"Tranny." Pete licked his finger and drew a number one in the air, then tossed the panties at Joe, who entirely failed to catch them, but none the less tracked them down under a chair and examined them contemplatively.
"They're like, brand new..."
"Nah, they probably came from some tween or something, kind of."
"No, dude – there's still a tag, here. They're new."
Joe shrugged and stuck his bottom lip out, and when Patrick turned around to see what everyone was whooping and howling about, Joe was adjusting himself with the shocking-pink garment pulled over his jeans like some kind of superhero drag act.
"Oh my God."
"Whadya think? Personally, I'm thinking they're pretty damn sexy..."
"They're not really your colour, Joe."
"No! No – look, the ribbons totally accentuate my eyes!"
"Bro, with those on, no fuck's looking at your eyes..." Pete assured him drily.
Patrick tutted and turned back to his bag; he wasn't going to indulge them. He gathered his things and made his way out to the bus, and that – he hoped – was going to be the end of that.
----
In the early hours of the next morning, having spent the evening after the show slumped on the bed and playing "Guess the Plot Twist" on some made-for-TV movie about a middle-aged woman tracking down a holiday fling from her teens, Joe found himself yawning widely and patting Patrick on the back as he rolled wearily off the mattress beside him and announced that he was going to bed.
"Hope the bed-bugs don't bite..."
"How reassuring. Thanks, man."
"You're welcome," Joe grinned, climbing to his feet as Patrick picked up his keycard from the dresser and shuffled to the door. "See you in the morning..."
"Not if I see you first."
Laughing gently as Patrick closed the door behind himself, Joe scratched absently at his belly and pulled his bag toward him to look for some clean boxers to put on after his bedtime shower. And there they were: the pink lacy panties with the blue ribbons.
He didn't know how they'd got there – although he could hazard an educated guess – he just knew he hadn't put them there himself. Smirking, he held them up to study them again. They were actually kind of fun-looking – like they should belong to someone with a sense of irony and who didn't take themselves too seriously. To be perfectly frank, he didn't know too many girls like that, but he lived in hope that some existed.
Catching sight of himself in the full-length mirror on the wall, he chuckled and held them up across his hips, admiring his reflection. He'd always sort of wondered about girls' underwear – it always looked so scratchy and uncomfortable; and so skimpy. But it was so much more imaginative than what guys got to wear – way more interesting than tighty-whities, or jockey shorts or those horrendous cock-cupping thong things with bowties or slogans attached. Well. Now he had an opportunity to find out, didn't he? He was getting into the shower anyway, so he may as well just give it a go quickly – for a laugh. What harm could it do?
Hurriedly, and still chuckling to himself, he pulled off his shirt, dropped his pants and balanced on one wobbly leg to pull the panties on.
Not... not actually that bad...
He took a moment to arrange himself, twisting slightly to regard his reflection, and then paused to tie the bright blue ribbons dangling from the waistband into careful little bows. He'd just picked up the ends of the second one when the hotel room door swung open and Patrick ducked back in, wielding the keycard he had picked up on his way out. It seemed to take him a second to even look up and realise what he'd stumbled in on, but when he did his eyes widened almost beyond the realms of plausibility and he turned a bright, fiery red.
Neither of them said anything, they just gaped at each other dumbly; Joe's eyes on Patrick's mortified expression, Patrick's eyes on the rather revealing lace stretched over Joe's crotch.
It was a hideous stalemate – neither of them able to move or speak or seemingly even think about how to react until Patrick was met with some surge of sense or reality, and he scurried to the dresser, switched the card in his hand for the one he'd left behind, and made a very, very quick exit.
It took a week before he'd look Joe in the eye again, but he'd definitely learned to knock.
----
The sight of one of his best friends practically naked, except for virtually see-through girls' knickers, was scarred on to Patrick's retinas for days after it happened. They didn't mention it; things like that were best left well alone – it was an accepted convention between dudes: either you went out of your way to mock and destroy your bud's reputation, or you literally took the experience to your grave.
However, when they returned to Hammersmith a few months later and an absolute torrent of women's undergarments was launched in their general direction – one pair, large enough to act as marquee, leaving the stage atop Gabe's beaming head – it rather ripped the scab from that old wound.
He could tell by the look on Joe's face that this was not his favourite moment ever.
The only way of handling it, as per the unwritten rules of Brodom, was to mock him horribly for his previous indiscretion. And that was why, as they finished up in the dressing room, ready to head to the hotel – lingering after everyone else had run off down the corridor whooping – Patrick crept up behind Joe as he checked for messages on his phone, and dangled the prettiest and most outrageous pair he'd found from the pile Dirty had collected, right in front of his nose.
"Saw these, and thought of you..." he informed him in a stage whisper, letting them fall; the shimmering greyish-lilac and black lace frills dropping into the hand Joe automatically extended to catch them.
He turned to scowl back at Patrick, his phone still pressed to his ear, but Patrick was already backing away and picking up his bag. He blew Joe a taunting little kiss and made a hasty exit, jogging to catch up with everyone else.
Four hours later, tucked into his bunk with his laptop propped on his knees, he received a soft ping! from his email notification and absently clicked on the pop-up for his message.
From: Joe Trohman
To: Patrick Stump
Date: 3 April 2007, 03.37
Subject: (no subject)
Now think of me.
It took a moment to realise that there was an attachment, and at best Patrick expected a gif of a gigantic donkey penis or a prolapsed anus, or something equally revolting; he did not expect a slightly over-exposed photograph of the inside of Joe's bunk, and a close-up shot of Joe's bare stomach and thighs, the light from the flash reflecting from the contours of the shiny fabric from the panties Patrick had given him.
There was a sharp lurch in the pit of Patrick's stomach. "Oh my God!"
He hurriedly clicked delete – several times more than was necessary – and covered his mouth with his hands in horror.
"What?" Charlie's voice asked from the bunk above him.
"Uh... just. Um. Nothing."
"Stop looking at porn."
"I wasn't!"
"Whatever."
"I said I wasn't!"
"I bet he was," Joe's voice chimed in mischievously from across the aisle.
"You – " Patrick spluttered, wanting to glare out of his bunk at him, but knowing that he was far too red in the face and also, far from sure he could look Joe in the eye ever again. "You just... go to bed or something."
"I am in bed."
"Shut up!"
"Everyone shut the fuck up!" Andy cut in. "I can't hear the TV!"
They did as they were told, and Patrick turned his attention back to his computer, pinching the bridge of his nose as he remembered what he had seen mere moments before. That dude was such a freak. Who the hell did that? Seriously?
Ugh.
Shaking his head, Patrick picked up his laptop and gazed dully at the screen. He totally had to get back at him for that. Almost on impulse, he ran his fingers across the touchpad and clicked on the trash icon. He should keep the picture. For blackmail.
He opened it, to save the file, and for a moment he found himself lingering on the image, absently noting that those panties were far more attractive than the ones he'd originally caught Joe posing in; he deserved a pat on the back for his taste in ladies' underwear, that was for sure. And the material – although clearly not real satin – had an attractive shimmer to it; and it flattered certain parts of his anatomy in ways Patrick thought perhaps all guys could profit from. If they knew about it, that was. But they didn't. Because most guys didn't wear girls' knickers or send photographs of themselves doing so to their friends. Or, more importantly, hide in their bunks looking at said photographs of their friends with quite this much interest. They almost certainly didn't look at the picture and want to smooth their hands over the fabric to see if it felt any more luxurious stretched over skin than it had balled into his hand.
He closed his eyes tightly and manoeuvred his fingers across his touchpad from memory, trying to save the image without looking at it again.
And then there was another soft bloop from his laptop, causing him to open one eye curiously, to find a pop-up from his instant messaging program on the screen in front of him.
TrohrannosaurusRex: So, on a scale of 1 to seriously fucking hot...
Patrick balked at the screen and hurriedly typed back his response:
SophomoreStump: You are a horrrible person.
There was a short pause and then:
TrohrannosaurusRex: Admit it – you think theyre hot.
SophomoreStump: Shut up.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You're not denying it then? Haha.
SophomoreStump: You're a pervert.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Haha. You love it. Don't pretend.
Patrick's heart was thumping inexplicably hard in his chest and he could feel himself breaking into a cold sweat.
SophomoreStump: Don't try to get me involved with your kinky panty thing, Trohman.
TrohrannosaurusRex: TECHNICALLY they're your panties... and you like gave them to me...
SophomoreStump: It was a joke!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that...
SophomoreStump: You are such a creep!
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm a creep in sexy panties that you gave me tho, dude.
He wasn't even sure why he typed it, but before he knew what he was doing, Patrick had asked:
SophomoreStump: You still have them on??
TrohrannosaurusRex: ;) Ohhhh yeah.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Why? Wanna see?
SophomoreStump: NO!
SophomoreStump: Everyone is right there you freak!
TrohrannosaurusRex: And if they wasn't?
SophomoreStump: You'd still be a creepy perv.
That time he could actually hear Joe chuckling in his bunk.
SophomoreStump: I've got the point, now, ok?
TrohrannosaurusRex: Oh really?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I knew they were like hot and stuff but seriously...
TrohrannosaurusRex: but it's all good. i wont think any less of you for having seriously excellent taste.
TrohrannosaurusRex: They're pretty sexy actualy.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You should try them.
SophomoreStump: No!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Aww why not?
SophomoreStump: Because I'm a man!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Seriously? You have better boobs than most girls I know.
TrohrannosaurusRex: But like... it's only fun right?
SophomoreStump: You asshole!
SophomoreStump: Stop bitching about my fucking weight it's not funny.
SophomoreStump: And no!
SophomoreStump: I don't think it's fun. Ok?
There was another weighty pause before Joe responded, and Patrick found himself talking a long, deep breath to try to steady his nerves, tapping his fingers jitterishly at the plastic casing under his hand.
TrohrannosaurusRex: I was just kidding about the boobs.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Bbut I totally think you should try the panties.
SophomoreStump: BUT WHY?!
TrohrannosaurusRex: Why not?
TrohrannosaurusRex: They're just clothes.
SophomoreStump: Yeah – so why bother?
TrohrannosaurusRex: Because it's kind of sexy...
SophomoreStump: Why do you want me to be sexy?!
TrohrannosaurusRexe: Im rolling my eyes at you right now you know that right?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm just SAYING you should try it. It's cool and it's not gonna make God kill baby animals or anything...
TrohrannosaurusRex: Get a sense of humour dude, geez...
SophomoreStump: I have a sense of humour! But I also like to have some dignity.
SophomoreStump: Now stop bugging me.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Why?
TrohrannosaurusRex: So you can have a couple of private minutes with my pic?
SophomoreStump: I hate you
SophomoreStump: Go away.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You go first.
SophomoreStump: FINE!
Patrick slammed down the lid of his laptop and stowed it in the magazine pouch at the foot of his bunk. He was going to go to sleep and forget about the whole damn thing. Fucking Trohman... who the hell thought their friends wanted to see them in panties, anyway? Who the hell wanted to see their friends in panties?
He punched his pillow irritably, hoping to make it more comfortable, and settled down to sleep. No sooner had he closed his eyes, though, than he was met with visions of the picture, tacked to the backs of his eyelids; that glossy material stretched over the clearly defined curve of Joe's dick, the way it emphasised and accentuated it to make it seem far larger than it ever had when Patrick had caught him in regular boxers in the past.
It took him a long time and a sudden clench in his chest to realise the reason that Joe seemed bigger than he remembered; he was half hard under that shimmering material. And if he was turned on then, what the hell was he doing now?!
The cracks between the curtains on Patrick's bunk spilled no light from outside, and everyone else had fallen quiet, save for snores and the occasional murmur of one dude or other talking in his sleep, but amid the deep breathing, Patrick was sure he could hear a much shallower rasp from across the aisle. There was an occasional quiet rustle of fabric and barely perceptible creak of movement in the bunk opposite.
Oh my God.
He rolled carefully on to his back to listen – telling himself he was just making sure that he was imagining things – but the mental image lingered; Joe's hand slipping beneath the smooth, delicate material, letting it bunch and slip down a little from the angle of his tattooed wrist...
The abrupt silence from the opposite bunk was what alerted him to the involuntary gasp he had issued as his own hand found its way into his boxers. He hadn't meant to – he certainly hadn't wanted to – but something else had driven him. He was tired; overworked. Maybe he just needed a break.
But there was a tiny, unmistakeable laugh from the bunk beside him and the sound of motion resumed; more deliberate this time, accompanied by small but just audible sighs.
He knows you're listening, dude. He totally knows. And yet, he hadn't stopped; and neither had Patrick. He caught his lip between his teeth and closed his eyes to better visualise the careful movements being made just a couple of feet away; to echo them, always imagining the feel of the material against his hand.
----
Waking up, the next morning, still wearing the garment of the night before, Joe couldn't help laughing to himself. He was a laidback guy with an open mind, and he was always happy to indulge a new experience; provided it wasn't likely to result in his immediate incarceration or death. He had no qualms about being risqué with other dudes – he'd made out with guys in his younger years, mostly for dares, and even gone so far as to jerk off one of the dudes who had briefly tried out as their second guitarist, purely because Pete had implied that he wouldn't have the skill. Growing up in that environment there had been stupid games and circle jerks all the time – it really all meant nothing – but he knew for a fact that Patrick had never involved himself in such shenanigans because he always left if he thought things were getting too fruity.
Knowing that he'd managed to coax him into such licentious behaviour was actually something to be rather smug about, as far as Joe was concerned. Not that he planned to share the information; that would require explaining the panties and he kind of wanted to keep that element to himself, for now.
The first time he saw Patrick that day, he was climbing out of his bunk, looking blushed and dishevelled, and Joe found himself grinning at him knowingly. Patrick did not seem amused; he snatched up his jeans and a t-shirt and pulled them on, then made a quick exit to find some breakfast in the kitchenette. Nobody else was up, except Andy, who was busy stretching for his morning workout, in the lot outside. Joe followed Patrick into the back of the bus, and pulled the door shut behind him.
"Good morning," he murmured, playfully patting Patrick's ass as he squeezed past.
Patrick glowered at the toaster, as if that would make it cook his breakfast quicker, and pretended he hadn't heard.
"So... you really like the panties, then, huh?"
No answer.
"I told you they were sexy. Which I mean, I totally think that you like, knew already..."
"Leave me alone."
"Aw, dude, that's just like... cruel, basically. I thought you cared."
Patrick flipped him off and turned around with his plate, approaching the breakfast bench and sitting as far away from Joe as he physically could, his face as red as the cherry goo easing its way between the edges of his Pop Tarts.
"Are you like, trying to tell me you haven't changed your mind about the panties?" Joe prompted in a jokey half-whisper, shifting closer and enjoying the wary look Patrick gave him in return.
"You are such a creep."
"You weren't saying that last night, dude."
Sighing heavily, Patrick dropped his half-nibbled Pop Tart back on his plate and demanded, "What is your obsession with this? Seriously?"
"You started it," Joe shrugged back without missing a beat.
"I so did not!"
"You totally did."
"I wasn't the one running around in girls' underwear!"
"Um, yeah, and I wasn't the one who was like, walking into other dudes' hotel rooms uninvited."
"That," Patrick told him seriously, "was an accident."
Joe shrugged and looked at him sidelong. "Whatever. It's not like I minded."
Patrick almost choked on his Pop Tart.
"I mean, like... it was weird, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't freaked out or anything, basically. I mean, like... they're just clothes, like I said."
"But they're girls' clothes, Joe!"
"Doesn't stop Pete and you don't freak out at him."
"Jeans are way, way different."
"How?"
"Well... they're... I mean... they look the same!"
"If they looked the same why not just wear dudes' ones?"
"Because they don't fit right. He's too short. You know that."
"That's what he tells you, anyway..." Joe teased, knowing full well that it was in fact the actual reason Pete wore them, but finding Patrick's squirming delightfully fun.
"It's not the same as wearing panties, though! It's just not."
"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it, dude... I mean, you never wanted to join in the group activities when we were kids, if you know what I mean, but you were totally into it last night..."
"Joe," Patrick began, in the warning tone that usually meant a tantrum was imminent, "you will never speak of that again, you understand? Never."
Joe shrugged and stole the corner of Patrick's other Pop Tart. "Alright."
"Really?"
"Sure... but like... only if you actually try the panties."
"What?! No!"
"Well, I just mean like, it's down to you, dude... I think you're missing out, basically."
"And if I don't?"
"I dunno, dude... I'm not so into fooling around with dudes who are too uptight to acknowledge they're even into it."
"I never even said I wanted to fool around with you!" Patrick told him indignantly.
"Actions speak louder than words, my friend," Joe told him, grinning and stealing the rest of the Pop Tart, then getting up and going to find out where the nearest showers were.
----
There was a time, after the incident in the bus, when they all just went home. For the first few days, Patrick didn't even speak to Joe. They were a couple of thousand miles apart with hardly anything to say to each other anyway; they'd been together 24/7 for weeks and it was a relief to have a breather. And yet, somehow, Patrick couldn't help thinking about the last night in the bus and what the hell he'd been thinking.
He didn't do that shit. He just didn't.
But then, he couldn't help feeling just a little excited at the prospect of Joe being in LA, and when his cell buzzed in his pocket the night before Joe flew down, with the simple question, "Shall I?" Patrick knew exactly what he was asking.
Do what you want.
He could even picture the mischievous smile on Joe's face as he pressed send.
They went for dinner, the next night; Patrick, Joe, Pete and Dan, who had been down in California ever since they returned. Andy wasn't due until the next day, and the dynamic was strange – Patrick found himself distracted by the absence and intermittently wandered back into his own thoughts. At least, that was what he convinced himself was his reason.
He caught Joe grinning at him speculatively from time to time, and glowered back, knowing exactly what Joe was thinking but unable to tell him to get his goddamn mind out of the gutter because there was no way he'd get involved in his weird little games again. Joe just kept on grinning.
When Pete disappeared to the bathroom and Dan ducked out to take a call, Joe sat back in his chair and bumped Patrick's ankle under the table.
"So, can I get a ride?"
Patrick balked at him. "We are not talking about this here!" he hissed.
Across the table, Joe spluttered with laughter. "A ride, dude! Like home. Back to my apartment."
"Oh."
"I'm kind of like... open to interpretation, though..." he grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Patrick didn't have time to respond before Pete returned, clutching a dessert menu triumphantly and rambling about ice cream sundaes with sparklers in. There was no way in hell Patrick was discussing this in front of him, so he glared at Joe and made a mental note to call him a freak when they were alone.
----
"So, I got you a present," Joe announced, reaching into the pocket of his jacket as they sat at a junction, waiting for their turn to go.
"It's not my birthday for two weeks, dude," Patrick told him absently, leaning forward a little to look up at the traffic lights. This was a notoriously slow signal and they could be there for a couple of minutes, yet.
"It's not a birthday present." He held out the plastic bag, unable to suppress the chuckle of anticipation at Patrick's uneasy glance.
"They're panties, aren't they?" he muttered flatly, before he'd even reached out to take the bag from where it dangled from Joe's fingertip.
"Don't like, guess, dude! Take a look."
Sighing impatiently, Patrick snatched the bag from Joe's hand and peered inside; there was a short pause before he pulled out the gift.
"I'm pretty sure they're your size," Joe assured him, watching gleefully as Patrick held up the pale blue garment in front of the steering wheel. They were almost boyish in cut, but covered in layer after layer of light, delicate frills. He'd thought it best to ease him in with something a little more sedate than a scarlet thong...
"Joe..."
"I figured they were like, a little bit retro and kind of old-fashioned, so they were pretty like, you, basically..."
"Joe."
"I'm just saying try them, y'know? What could go wrong, honestly?"
"I bet that's what you thought, right before I walked in..."
"Well, yeah. But I don't call that 'wrong'. Tripping over while putting them on and like, smashing my head on a piece of furniture and then like, being found by a chamber maid half naked with girls' underwear on and taken to the hospital like that... that would be it going wrong. But it didn't, so like – what's the big deal?"
Patrick just stared at him dully until the driver behind honked to point out that the light had changed, and he put the car in drive.
"What am I going to have to do to make you drop this, Joe?"
"Easy. Just try them on."
"And that's it?"
"Yes," Joe promised earnestly. "Yes, just try them on. Then I'll drop it. When I've seen the proof."
"Proof?!" Patrick half-yelled, nearly rear-ending the vehicle in front.
"Well, it's only fair... and like... when you've tried them on, and realised it's seriously, seriously hot, then you can come back and tell me I was right and like... whatever."
"There isn't going to be any 'whatever'."
Joe just smirked to himself.
----
When he got back to his apartment, Patrick dropped his keys on the table and slumped down onto his couch. He pulled the panties out of his pocket and held them up in front of his face doubtfully.
They'd never fit; but he did like them. They reminded him of the kind pin-up girls wore with basques and garters. He had no idea why the hell Joe thought they'd suit him, though. Truth be told, he was just a tiny, tiny bit put out that he hadn't even bought him the sheer, shiny kind – these would hide his assets rather than anything else. If he was really planning to try them on; which he wasn't. Not really. Well. Maybe just long enough to get the damn proof and show Joe that he'd done it, so they never had to speak of this again.
He lay there on his couch for quite some time, chewing his bottom lip until it was almost raw, and studying the panties carefully. And then, finally, with a sudden rush of determination to just get this over with, he scrambled to his feet, grabbed his laptop from the dining table in the corner, and headed for the bedroom, locking the door firmly behind him and making sure the blinds were safely drawn to ensure no telephoto lens was catching this.
He undressed slowly, more to stave off the inevitable than anything else, waiting for his computer to finish logging on. He'd put the panties on, take a photo with his webcam and send it to Joe; then it would all be over. Done. He could totally handle this. He just had to be a man about it.
Finally, taking a long, slow breath, he picked up the underwear and stepped carefully into it, pulling them up to sit surprisingly comfortably at his hips. Joe's judgement had been better than he'd thought; and when he looked up and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wardrobe door, he realised they were actually more flattering than he'd expected. The shape of the delicate lace frills actually suggested there was a lot more underneath them than there was, even on Patrick, who considered himself more than acceptably gifted in that department.
He adjusted himself a little, twisting to look over his shoulder and see if they were as flattering from behind and almost gave himself a heart attack when his computer made an unexpected bloop.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You're still up, then?
Patrick paused to catch his breath, almost winded by the fright of thinking – even for a nanosecond – that he'd been caught, and then moved to kneel down beside his bed.
SophomoreStump: Yes.
SophomoreStump: And so are you.
TrohrannosaurusRex: That's very observant of you.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Good work, Captain Obvious.
TrohrannosaurusRex: But actually I'm not up. I'm in bed.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Thank you, wireless internet.
SophomoreStump: Yeah.
SophomoreStump: I'm pretty much the same right now.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Are you wearing your panties?
Patrick's heart skipped several beats and he could feel a familiar twisting in his stomach.
TrohrannosaurusRex: You are, aren't you?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I mean I was kidding when I asjed but you totally are.
SophomoreStump: As it happens, I was going to give you this proof you want, yes.
TrohrannosaurusRex: AWESOME.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Come on. Admit that they're hot.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Because they are.
TrohrannosaurusRex: They're like... kinky or something.
SophomoreStump: Do you want this picture or not?
TrohrannosaurusRex: Totally!
SophomoreStump: Then stop being a smart ass.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Im not being a smart ass dude!
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm serious.
TrohrannosaurusRex: Yuo're like way convinced I'm just tryin to embarrass you but I'm totally not
SophomoreStump: Bullshit.
TrohrannosaurusRex: I'm serious!
There was a short pause, then:
TrohrannosaurusRex: Turn on your webcam.
SophomoreStump: Why?
TrohrannosaurusRex: I want to see.
TrohrannosaurusRex: and then I can like show you how serious I am.
SophomoreStump: What do you mean?
TrohrannosaurusRexhas invited you to a Video session. Activate webcam?
SophomoreStump: my microphones broken on this thing.
SophomoreStump: There's no point doing this.
TrohrannosaurusRex: I don't need to hear you, dude, I just need to see.
TrohrannosaurusRex: you cn still type to me.
Reluctantly, Patrick accepted the session and was met with a pop-up of Joe, propped against pillows, the light from the screen glinting on the lenses of his glasses.
"Ohhh. Hey. There we go."
Patrick took a deep breath and typed his response.
SophomoreStump: Yes. Clearly.
"Wait. Are you like... naked, or something?"
SophomoreStump: I have the panties on.
SophomoreStump: Like you asked.
"Cool! Can I see?"
SophomoreStump: If this ever gets out I'll kill you with my bare hands I promise.
"Oh, c'mon! Like I'd do that to you..." Joe argued, looking wounded. "Here – show of solidarity..."
There were clicks and shuffles as Joe lifted his Macbook and turned it around to face down the length of the bed, displaying the fact that he was covered – barely – in a black, lacy pair that Patrick hadn't seen before, sitting neatly beneath his tattoo and draping small frills over the curve where his hip met his thigh.
Patrick's breath caught in his throat and he couldn't help staring dumbly at the scene in front of him.
"See?" Joe's voice asked from beyond the view of the webcam built into his computer. "This is totally about introducing you to something like, majorly hot..." He turned the computer back around to face him, and smiled at the screen. "Oh man. You really like panties..."
Blinking hurriedly and trying to smother the dazed look on his face, Patrick typed back.
SophomoreStump: Maybe I'm just shocked that one of my best friends keeps showing me what he looks like in women's underwear.
"Oh, please, Patrick! How long have I known you? I've like, seen your 'I would so tap that' face a billion times. And I mean, it's not like I've forgotten what happened last time you knew I was wearing something like this... I'm guessing it's got next to nothing to do with me, so like... it must be the panties."
Patrick really had nothing to say, except:
SophomoreStump: Do you want to see these or not?
"Obviously! I've only been trying to get you in some for like, ages..."
SophomoreStump: If you laugh, that's it. I'm logging off.
"I won't. I promise, dude, I won't."
Taking a deep breath, Patrick carefully pressed his hands to the side of the mattress and stood up, bringing himself within the range of the webcam and spreading his hands in presentation. He turned slowly on the spot to show Joe all the necessary angles and the moved to kneel back down.
"Wait! Don't!"
SophomoreStump: Don't what?
"Stop! Yet. Don't stop yet..."
SophomoreStump: I did my part, Joe.
"Yeah, but... just give me a little longer... this is just like... so hot."
He could tell from the wide-eyed way Joe gazed at his screen that he wasn't kidding. His mouth was parted just a little and he seemed to be breathing a little oddly. Patrick stared back, self-consciously running his thumb under the waistband of his panties to adjust them; they were starting to feel just a little too warm and a touch restricting, compared to the loose, cotton boxers he usually wore, but with Joe staring at him like that he didn't want to take them off. Not yet. It was far too rare for someone – anyone – to look at him that way.
"Do that again."
Patrick paused and frowned at the screen for a moment.
SophomoreStump: Do what?
"Touch them. Do that again."
He wasn't even sure why his hand was shaking, but as he ran his thumb under the waistband again, and tugged awkwardly at one of the layers, he realised that he was really starting to see where Joe was coming from.
His heart was racing so hard he felt a little dizzy as he leaned down to type again, not quite sure if he was really going to ask for this.
SophomoreStump: Can I see yours?
For a second, Joe looked alarmed and Patrick winced, starting to feel a little sick – maybe this was all a prank, maybe Joe really had been trying to catch him out, after all.
"Dude... I – I kind of can't..." Joe told him, his voice sounding strained and odd.
SophomoreStump: Why not?
"Because I'm kind of like... I mean, this is really hot, if you follow my meaning."
SophomoreStump: Stop fucking with me, Joe!
SophomoreStump: I've done everything YOU asked haven't I?
"But I'm... I'm like..." There was a short pause, and Joe's screen shook and captured odd angles for a few seconds; it seemed that he was placing it further down the bed and moving around to settle himself back down. When the movement had stopped, Patrick was met with the exact angle he wanted; the laptop had been placed between Joe's thighs, facing up the bed toward the headboard – and there in the middle of the screen, looking almost as ridiculous as they did sexy, were the panties, pulled tight over the now obvious reason for Joe's hesitation. "Happy, now?"
Patrick didn't even realise that he was running his fingers over the pale blue material until Joe mumbled, "I'll take that as a yes..."
Part two.