Archive of Our Own

There are many moments when Joe considers moving out of the Chicago apartment. Like, when he catches Mikey and Pete in compromising positions, and when he hears Patrick’s cat meow on the other side of the camera, and when Patrick laughs over the phone, and when Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, Patrick.

Still- they have a Ted, Lily, and Marshall type of arrangement. They’ve all been friends since fucking forever, and it works for them, sometimes anyways, and it doesn’t matter if what Joe has in the bank account is well (well) into the millions. Joe’s the kind of guy who sticks with his friends. It’d take more than… Pete and Mikey having sex on the dining room table for Joe to consider living away from the people who have stuck by him for years.

Or, so he thinks.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” Joe shrieks, with his hands over his eyes, “I thought we agreed no sex on the dining room tab- why the fuck would you want to do that?! We eat here, like we fucking eat here!”

“We definitely eat here.” Pete says, simply, and Joe wouldn’t even had thought about any other implications or whatever until he heard Mikey’s muffled laughter. “We eat lots of things on this table.” Mikey adds, and Pete laughs too, and they laugh together, and they’re naked together, on the table, and they- Joe screams with his mouth closed, and he storms off to his room. And he starts searching up apartments in New York, with his headphones on to the max.

“You’re thinking of moving to New York?” Patrick asks, over a Skype call. Vega, his little tri-pod cat, is in his lap, fast asleep, and her head rests on Patrick’s inner thigh. Patrick’s hair is disheveled, and he’s tripping and slurring over his words, lazy with sleep. It’s okay though- Joe’s feeling a little sleepy with jet-lag too. He had a shoot in Berlin the other day, and his body is still trying to play catch up with the time difference.

“Yeah! I was looking for places this morning- it’d be pretentious if I lived in SoHo, right? I’d hate myself… but the places are so nice.” Joe says, through a yawn. Patrick hums a reply, a ‘yeah’, and then he adds as an afterthought, “Why are you looking up places in New York? I mean… well, I don’t know.”

“Well, I wanna be near you,” Joe begins to say, and Patrick raises his eyebrows in a way that Joe doesn’t understand. Maybe he’s just sleepy. “and I just- I mean, we travel a lot, and hey!- you shoot in Europe a lot. Maybe I could live in Europe. Your European boyfriend.” Joe says, rambling to the millionth degree. But then Patrick laughs, so musical and sweet. “You wouldn’t be able to handle the food, though. You hate escargots.”

“I feel bad for them! Those snails had a family, they’re so small, and cute, and slimy. So slimy.”

Things with Patrick are good- so good. They celebrated their one year anniversary a couple of weeks ago in a bath tub and a bottle of red wine. Their skin got pruny, but it was romantic. And romantic is something that Joe doesn’t really do- he likes the cuddling and the sex and the flowers before a date, but sitting in a bath tub and soaking with in rosy water with someone else? It’s nothing he ever imagined. But then again, Patrick’s warm, silky white skin, and his red tinted lips from the wine was nothing he ever imagined either.

The distance is something that gets in the way a lot- work is important to the both of them. Joe’s always being flown god-knows-where, and Patrick’s either touching up stuff for Pete and Mikey’s band (yeah, Patrick's doing that now?), or he’s photographing models also in god-knows-where.

You put a map of the world on a wall, and you make the red marker Patrick, and the purple one Joe. And you draw lines with those markers, except the two colors almost never cross. That’s how things with work and JoeandPatrick are. They talk on the phone, and they Skype, and they meet in person when they can, but their fucking schedules. Joe hasn’t even seen Patrick in two weeks, and Joe’s so head over heels that it feels like an eternity.

But whatever- Joe has this, and it's better than nothing at all; the grainy Skype calls, and watching Vega’s body move up and down steadily on Patrick’s inner thigh. It’s a such Pete comment, but he wishes he were Vega- on Patrick’s thighs, breathing in time with him, being with him.

“I miss you, Joe.” Patrick yawns, when it’s too quiet. “I’m gonna see what I can do, okay? Maybe I can get on board for your next shoot, I’ll call Vicky, and… and it’ll be fun! Like when we met, and… and…” and… and… he falls asleep.

It's okay though- Joe was already knocked out, his head resting on the center of his laptop. 

If there’s one thing Patrick can do (not that he can only do one thing- he’s a man of many, many, many talents), it’s work a miracle.

“You’re never gonna guess what I just did!” He exclaims, excitedly, over the phone. Joe’s in the living room, running on the treadmill and watching an episode of Scrubs. Or, was watching an episode of Scrubs. “What’d you do?” Joe asks, panting slightly as he runs. His tank top clings to his sweaty body, but he’s a little too embarrassed by that “Viva Hate” tattoo he got when he was drunk to take it off yet.

Also, he’s running in front of the windows, and he knows that no one can see him through it, you can look out but not look in, but still. It's kind of ironic, not wanting to be looked at when he's a model but... it's not ironic not wanting to be looked at as you sweat buckets. 

Anyways- Patrick sounds absolutely giddy- “So, you know that lingerie thing you’re doing next week?”

Joe stops running for a second, and he almost slides right off the treadmill and into the wall. He didn’t know about that lingerie thing he’s doing next week.

“Uh… not really?” He says, after he composes himself and regains his breath. He’s already mentally adding a note in his head- CALL VICKY-T!

“Well… uh, you’re doing a lingerie thing, in New York, and I’m gonna be shooting you! I had to call up Vicky and arrange a couple of things, but- woo!”

He sounds super pumped- Joe can envision his smile, so he smiles, but the lingerie thing flashes red lights in his heads. The last time he did something like that, his feet were sore for 3 days straight from the heels, and his junk was totally visible. And that was a couple of years ago- he’s like… old now. 25 isn’t that young in the modeling world. 

“Come on, say something!” Patrick urges him on, cooing, so Joe tries not to sound so incredibly somber when he says, “Yeah, I’m- yeah! It’s gonna be great.” and then he adds on a little more cheerfully, “and hey, I can see some apartments!”

“Yeah, sure, that, and listen, you can just stay at my place, Vicky doesn’t even have to get you a hotel, and, well, Travie’s girlfriend is coming into town too, but we can make it work.” He gushes, excitement radiating off of Joe’s phone. It must look like waves, like happy, yellow waves.

They talk for a while, long enough for Joe to finish working out and start vegging into a bag of chip, and by the time they finish making plans, it’s late in the afternoon. Mikey’s humming in the kitchen, making a sandwich, and Pete’s playing (horribly) on his bass guitar.

“So… I think I’m gonna move to New York.” Joe blurts out, as he tosses his phone on the couch. Pete and Mikey exchange glances, and for a moment and it’s very still. “Wow… we’re really gonna miss you…” Pete says, eventually, with his eyebrows furrowed like he means it, but the slowness in his voice giving it away. 

“Wow,” Joe begins to say, defensive, but Mikey holds a hand up, stopping him in his tracks.

“No, no, no, don’t do that. You know we love you, and you’re our best friend, and we legitimately could not have afforded this place back when the band got started but… Joe! Pete and I are engaged.”

Pete looks on with a frown. “Yeah! And- well, it’s kinda like a J.D and Turk and Carla kinda thing. Like… we want you here! But also, we wanna have sex on our dining room table. Like, we just do. It’s so hot and in the moment and…” He stops talking about it, and he moves his hand down to his crotch to adjust things. Both Joe and Mikey watch on with a grimace.

“And… and maybe it’ll be good for you and Patrick, right? You guys living together, and-“

“Well, I was thinking of getting my own place, actually.”

Another pause. Mikey and Pete share a glance again, Joe hates when they do that, and Pete notes with stress in his voice, “But… why? I mean, you guys are really in love, and you’ve been dating for a while, and you said it yourself- the distance is a lot. So… why don’t you give it a trial?”

“A trial?! On my fucking love life?” Joe argues, and Mikey just slides over his sandwich to Joe to get him to calm down. “Why not? You guys are either gonna get married or break up. And that’s a fact. So… what’s the harm in trying it out? You’re going to New York for that lingerie thing-“

“How do you even know-“ “so, let that be your trial, or whatever. Just… see how things work out.” Mikey suggests, before he shrugs. “And everyone knows about the lingerie thing, Joe.”

“Yeah, true,” Pete pipes up from the couch, and Joe buries his head in his hands. Great.

So, Mikey and Pete were right: apparently everyone knew about the lingerie thing. When he called Vicky-T, she calmly told him to flip his calendar to the next month (he was still set to last month- he has better things to do than actively search for scotch tape when he has a calendar on his phone anyways), it was right there, staring at him in Vicky’s bubbly handwriting. When he checks twitter, fans with handles like ‘joescumslut’ and ‘joetrohmansarm’ tweet “Joe’s bf is shooting his pics for the lingerie shoot like that’s so hot im fucking sinning! Cant wait 2 see u guys in hell!’ (he reads those with a grimace), and even his little brother texts him the “:/” emoji with an attached picture of the article.

Joe’s kind of surprised- but also kind of not. He’s done a lot of shoots that he was kinda uncomfortable with, this wouldn’t be the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last either. He gets an email from the Cobra Crew, his styling team, with explicit directions not to shave his facial hair or get impulsive and razor off all of his curly hair (they even attach a picture of Joe in high school with a shaved head, and they say DO NOT DO THIS!), and Vicky sends him his flight info, and Joe packs his bags, and he brings his guitar, and it’s just like any other shoot.

“I can’t wait to see the spread all over my timeline,” Pete snickers, on the way to the airport. He’s driving Joe to meet Vicky-T at the terminal- there’s no point in getting a limo when Joe has friends who drive, and who are practically kicking him out of his own home.

Or Joe's just being bitter. Who knows.

“Ugh, shut up,” Joe says, dragging his hands over his face in an attempt to wake himself up. “Vicky said she’s gonna send a pair heels in early so I can practice looking comfortable in them. As if heels could ever be comfortable, I don’t know how girls do it and make it look so effortless.” He says, miserably, and Pete nods in agreement.

“That’s cause girls rule the world. But anyways- break a leg. Or don’t. That’d be pretty bad. See you next week!” He says, pulling up to the curb, and he gives Joe a wave after he pulls out his two suitcases and walks away.

After that, it’s pretty much a blur. Travelling falls into such a routine that he hardly remembers any of it- the next thing he really knows, he’s at JFK airport, and Vicky’s next to him, peering into the crowd for Patrick, and looking out for paparazzi. They don’t really come for plane rides that land at 4 in the morning, and no one really even notices Joe when he’s wearing sweats and hats that cover his hair, but there's no such thing as being too careful.

“Are you sure that you called him?” Vicky asks, her bangs sticking out in all directions, “cause you’re forgetful. And I’ll just take you to the apartment in my taxi if you need me to.”

“I’m so sure I called him, I-“ and then he pauses, because he sees Patrick standing on his tippy-toes, trying to look over other people’s shoulders. “There!” He turns to Vicky, and she nods, patting him on the back. “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. Bye!”

And when Joe turns back to face Patrick, Patrick's all but running towards him- Joe drops his suitcases just in time, and Patrick jumps into his arms just like in a movie scene. They cling onto each other, totally making a scene, and they kiss like they haven’t seen each other in weeks (well, 3 to be exact... but who's counting?)

“Joe!” Patrick shrieks, kissing the side of his face, “I missed you!”

“I missed you too!” Joe grins, and they kiss again, Patrick’s arms around his neck, and Joe’s arms around Patrick’s body, and Joe’s suitcases abandoned next to him.

And when they get back to Patrick’s place, they have loud, enthusiastic sex at 4 in the morning. Patrick’s legs are wrapped around Joe’s waist the same way that they were in the airport, and Joe feels (kinda) bad for Travie and his girlfriend, but then he pushes back in, and Patrick groans in his ear when Joe hits that sweet spot, and then Joe doesn’t care anymore.

Joe wakes up before Patrick- this isn’t a surprise. What is a surprise is Patrick’s drool all over his neck, and, okay, pretty much everywhere. So, Joe has to take a shower, and face Travie and his girlfriend without Patrick with him. Patrick’s like Joe’s safety blanket- now he just feels naked. Also... he’s naked.

And even though waking up with drool on his neck isn’t the most ideal situation, Joe could totally live with Patrick if he wanted to. He uses Patrick’s shampoo and his bar soap in the shower, and he wasn't too too weirded out when Vega followed him in the bathroom (it was pretty strange taking a piss with Vega staring at him, but he made do), and she hissed at him when he got some water on her, but it felt… comfortable. Like Joe could do this every day. Maybe living with Patrick wouldn’t be so bad, and maybe it wasn’t too soon. But whatever- Patrick probably didn't wanna live with him, there was no point in fixing something if it worked just fine. 

He keeps his hair wrapped up in a towel, and he throws on some of Patrick’s clothes as he braces himself to go into the kitchen. Patrick’s still sleeping, and where Joe used to be, there’s a puddle of drool. It’s endearing… Joe guesses.

He can hear Travie and his girlfriend talking softly in the kitchen, and when Vega patters into the room, he hears her coo, “Aw, baby!”

So, she seems nice enough. He walks over to where they are, pretending to have just woken up, and he gives the two of them a small wave when they notice him. “Uh, hey guys.”

Travie’s girlfriend’s jaw drops, and she turns to look at Travie, back to Joe, back to Travie, back to Joe, and she says quickly, “Wait, the guy who whimpered pathetically when he came was Joe Trohman?”

Okay, never mind. Joe grimaces a little, looking over to Travie for some sort of help but Travie's too busy trying to hide his laughter with a cough.

She winces as she says, “I mean… I mean, you… sorry. Um, can we try again? Hi, my name is Katy.” She holds out a manicured hand, and Joe takes her hand, hesitantly, and shakes it. “I’m Joe.”

She has bangs that remind Joe of Vicky- they’re straight across her forehead, placed right under her eyebrows, and her hair is jet black too. She brushes a strand behind her ears, and she slides out of her seat. “Do you want something to eat? I just made Trav some pancakes, and there’s still some mix left.”

Joe nods, a yes, and Travie motions, with his head, for Joe to sit with them at the counter. Joe twirls around on the stools as Katy turns the stove on, and scoops some butter out onto a pan. “So, you’re dating Patrick, right? Well, I mean, we all know you’re dating Patrick, cause… well, yeah, but… wow. I didn’t know Patrick had it in him.” She says to him, conversationally, and just in time too- Patrick comes out of his room, wearing some boxers and a winter jacket over his bare chest. 

“Why wouldn’t you think I had it in me?” He asks, playfully, and he sits down next to Joe. Katy glances up at him as she pours mix into the pan. It sizzles, the smell makes Joe’s stomach rubble. “Cause he’s Joe Trohman. He’s… like, on billboards.” She says, honestly, and Joe shakes his head, “Really, I’m not big of a deal, I just… stand and look pretty, I guess.”

Travie gets up, and puts his dishes in the sink. “Yeah, babe, he’s just Joe,” he says to Katy, grabbing a sponge, “Joe, who decides that 4 in the morning would be a great time to fuck.”

He says this without malicious intent, but Patrick still throws a paper clip at him. “First of all, my idea. Second of all, I don’t think either of you can talk, considering the little John and Yoko bed-in the two of you staged last month, except in the place of talking about peace, you just had sex.”

Katy flips Joe’s pancake onto his plate, and hands him the plate with some syrup. She looks over to Patrick, and says matter-of-factly, “I don’t think you and your attitude deserve any pancakes.”, and she smirks when Patrick sighs and starts begging.

The 4 of them spend the next hour just like that- Travie helps clean up the kitchen and he makes coffee as Patrick and Joe eat their pancakes with Katy. They put on a Britney album, and Katy and Travie dance with each other to “You Drive Me (Crazy)”, and Patrick finds out that Joe kinda knows the lyrics like the back of his hand. And for a while, Joe forgets he’s a supermodel, that he's accustomed to all of these elaborate parties and all of the drugs and alcohol, because he's having about 10 x the amount of fun he'd be having there, here. And all they're doing is talking and eating pancakes and listening to Britney Spears. 

And until the doorbell rings, the music stays on. But Patrick shuts it off as Joe gets the door- and Vicky greets him with a box of shoes. “So, I brought your heels!”

She walks in without being invited- but that’s just Vicky. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna pick you up at 8, so-“ she swirls around, and she points at Patrick. Patrick’s eyes widen, and he squeaks “Me?”

“Yes, you! I’m gonna need you to make sure he’s up at 6:30. Remember, if you drink coffee, brush your teeth for the love of all things holy, and please, please, please, please do not attempt to shave.” She says, quickly, and she hands Joe the box of shoes. “And just practice walking around in them. You don’t have to do somersaults or attempt to jump around, just try to look like they’re any old shoes. Good?”

“Uh... good.” Joe says, blinking at her, and Vicky takes a big breath, in and out, and she smiles at him. “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

And then she seems to notice the two other people in the room, staring at her like she’s crazy. Vicky waves to them, and she says to Katy, “Hey, love your hair!” (she’s talking about identical they look), and then she storms out as soon as she came.

“That was… something else.” Katy says, eventually, and she walks over to Joe to inspect the heels that Vicky brought. “Woah,” she says, “these are… really fancy. And big. These are some big ass heels.”

Travie and Patrick come up to them, and peer down at the box. Like a lot of the events in Joe’s life, this is like a movie scene, and the shoe box is like a briefcase that holds all of the answers to every question in the world in it. They all stand around for a good minute, just staring. “Wow… that’s… wow.” Travie says, and Patrick nods. “Totally… that’s just crazy.”

Katy rolls her eyes, “You guys are so annoying," and then she turns to Joe, and grins at him.

"So... you need help with walking in heels?”

Joe spends the majority of the day looking at apartments- all of them are nice, he guesses, but none of them really stood out.

(Well, no, all of them are fucking amazing. It’s totally a first world problem, but one of the problems with being accustomed to having money is that nice things are so ordinary. Like, the view of Central Park was fucking amazing… but Joe was still uncertain if he really liked it.)

So, when he gets home to Patrick, he's just a little disappointed. He tells himself that he's still going to have a couple of days to look around, but the first day wasn't looking so well. But whatever- he walks in just after 8, thoroughly exhausted. Travie’s fast asleep on the couch, and Patrick and Katy are both of their respective laptops.

“Ugh, finally,” Patrick says- he doesn’t sound relieved as much as he sounds kinda pissed, but Joe really can’t be bothered to talk about it. He just wants to drink a beer and sleep. 

“Yeah, sorry, it took forever. I don’t think I liked the places that much, I want something more… home-y. Everything just felt all slick and new.” He says, and he collapses into the chair next to Patrick. “And normally I’m into that, but I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting old.” He says, and Katy looks up to him and raises her eyebrows. But she doesn’t say anything.

Patrick hums in response to it, but he doesn’t really say anything more about it. So Joe doesn’t push it, he just takes out his phone and starts scrolling through his Twitter. He doesn’t get very far, though. Cause Katy taps his shoulder, and she motions to the box with her head. “I’m done with my paper- I’m going out in an hour, maybe I can help you walk in them?”

Joe shrugs- he’s down for that.

And the hour passes quickly- Joe eats a slice of pizza and takes out the garbage, and he gets through an episode of Portlandia by the time Katy’s ready for him.

Right off the bat, there's a huge difference between the two of them. Katy’s legs look good in the heels- her legs are shaved, and she has a pedicure, and the heels actually somewhat match with what she’s wearing.

And Joe looks like… a dude wearing heels. His nails look good cause Vicky had him pampered (also? Pedicures aren’t a girl thing, people should totally take care of their nails), but they aren’t painted like Katy’s. And he’s wearing some jeans, and he’s tall, and he can’t stand still. He wobbles just standing, so he holds onto the sides of the counter. He just looks uncomfortable.

Patrick’s still working but he looks up every couple of seconds, with an amused expression on his face.

“Well, okay, the first thing I’d say is, before we even start, is to just stand in them. Take your hands off the counter, and just stand still.” She says, and Patrick and Joe share a glance- Joe almost wants to say no, and the look on Patrick’s face says he should too, but Katy’s glare overpowers that, so he reluctantly listens to her. He takes his hands off his safety net, and he can feel the muscles in his calves working for him- his thighs shake a little with effort, and he has to kinda hold his hands out to maintain his balance.

“Okay- so, first things first. Well, maybe second things second, since-- okay, nevermind, just- take breaks. Seriously, just take breaks. The second they don’t need you, take them off.” She says to him, like he totally isn’t struggling just standing in them, like he totally wouldn't take a million breaks when he gets the chance.

“And I know this sounds like common sense, but I used to wear heels all of the time, cause I thought that practice would make perfect, but… there’s a line between just passing for comfortable and, like, getting a foot cramp for a week. I wouldn’t cross it. Oh! And you should do some stretches too. Just wiggling your toes and like circling your feet to get the circulation going, you know?”

Joe nods, making a mental note. Stretches and take breaks.

“Now… you just have to break them in. Just do a round around the couch, stop, stretch, and then do it again.”

Joe shakes his head this time. “I’m gonna fall flat on my face.”

“Do it! Patrick, get over here.” She turns to him, and Patrick huffs with annoyance, but he obliges. He’s even shorter than Joe now- he has to look up all the way, and Joe watches as Patrick bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. “Here, now walk around, and Patrick’s gonna be next to you and he’ll catch you if you fall.”

“This is so stupid.” Patrick says to her, but when Joe takes a step (he makes it into a whole process- he lifts his foot like he’s about to take the first leap on the moon), he loses his balance (who gives someone 5 inch stilettos and tells them to master them in a day?!), and Patrick has to cushion his fall.

Patrick knocks his head on the floor, and the sound is loud enough for Travie to wake up, with a gasp. Joe’s eyes widen, and Patrick scrunches his own eyes shut, and he howls, “OW!”

Katy winces a little, but she still says, as Patrick and Joe get themselves off of the floor, "See! Now, imagine if that happened at the shoot? Now their top model is out of commission and it's a disaster! Okay, let's try again!"

And it takes a lot of effort- a lot. By the time Joe finally gets the hang of it, with his back straight and his posture set, Katy already kicked off her shoes and changed into a sweater that looks like Travie’s. Joe walks around the apartment on his own, and Vega follows the click of the heels with curiosity, only turning back and running over to Patrick when Joe accidentally knocks down a container of pens.

In fact, he only takes them off when Patrick pulls him into his room, after Joe walks back into the living room to find Katy and Travie making out on the couch.

“You look hot,” Patrick begins to say, closing the bedroom door behind them, and Joe grins, raising his eyebrows suggestively, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. But… you have to be awake at 6:30.” He says, through a laugh when Joe starts pouting.

“Maybe we could blow it off,” Joe suggests, “you could shoot the pictures right here, and we wouldn’t have to wake up.”

“As amazing as that sounds…” Patrick pushes Joe down on the bed, and kneels between his legs. But instead of doing what Joe thinks he’ll do, he just undoes his heels, sets them down by the door, and he shuts off the lights. “We need to sleep. So… get up here.”

In an amazing turn of events, Joe falls asleep first, hugging Patrick's body in his sleep. 

6:30 is way too early for people to be awake… and yet, here Joe and Patrick are. They wake up to Patrick’s alarm, something by Bowie, and they hop in the shower... together.

And they really are in a hurry- sadly, that doesn’t last for a long time. But they knew that the second that Patrick offered to lather up Joe’s body with the foamy, creamy soap that Katy uses.

They're kissing lazily, right underneath the spray of the shower, like they have all of the time in the world. Patrick's gasping into Joe's mouth, and his fingers around Joe's shoulders tighten. "Fuck," he groans, as Joe pushes him against the cold, cold tile, "we gotta- fuck, Joe, stop."

Joe looks down at him, a little confused, but he steps back a little nonetheless, as far as he can in the crowded shower space. Patrick runs his hands over his face, wiping off all of the droplets of water. "We're gonna be late, fuck, and Vicky's gonna scream at us."

"We're not gonna be- okay, yeah, we're gonna be late." Not even Joe can argue with that. They sort of look at each other for a second, debating on what to do. And then Joe's gaze shifts a little, because it's Patrick, it's Patrick naked and wet, and he'll never get used to looking at him. He remembers the days that Patrick wouldn't let him look at him, and then he's hit with some sort of resurgence like 'holyshiticantbelievehowluckyiam'

"We'll- after the shoot, okay? I don't want Vicky to kill me." Patrick says with a sad sigh, and Joe nods with agreement- yeah, he can see Vicky storming into Patrick's bathroom and dragging the two of them out of the shower by the hair.

He shudders a little at the thought. "I don't doubt that she would- she's kinda crazy." 

Patrick laughs, pulling him in for another kiss. "Yeah- and hey, I'll, um, bring stuff. It'll be a surprise."

And well, Joe has to get out of the shower and back into the room before his imagination kicks in... because stuff. Patrick's bringing stuff. 

He gets dressed as Patrick finishes up in the shower (it takes way longer for Joe's hair to dry), and he runs across the street for breakfast. By the time he gets back with piping hot coffee and toasted bagels, Patrick’s set too. His camera equipment is all packed, and he’s already wearing his clothes to go. Once again, Joe almost stops dead in his tracks to just admire him. It seems odd that he's the model, that people want to look at him, when Patrick exists.

Joe sets the coffee on the counter, and he hands Patrick his wrapped bagel. "Here- I got a bacon, egg, and cheese for you, right?" He asks, and Patrick nods, dragging him down by the shirt collar to kiss him on the cheek. "Yeah, thanks. You're so boring with your cream cheese."

Joe sits next to him, and he rolls his eyes playfully. "Whatever. Cream cheese is good."

The two of them eat quickly after that- the food is great (New York bagels always are), and the coffee is just right, and it's not until Joe's about halfway through his bagel that he says something again- “So… when you say stuff, what exactly are you talking about?” Joe asks, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. 

Patrick looks up from his cup of coffee (the drink fogs up his glasses, and it’s the most adorable thing ever) “I don’t know. What was I talking about?” He asks, his voice dripping with faux innocence. He gives Joe a toothy grin when Joe flips him off, and he smears some of Joe's cream cheese on his face. “It’s a surprise, Joseph. I guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

Joe hates surprises. When Patrick runs into the bathroom, Joe almost leaps to look in Patrick’s bag, but he forces himself to stay still, and to finish this bagel not let any cream cheese fall into his beard. That would be horrible.

The thing is… well, Joe is hairy.

Very hairy.

When he walked into his trailer, where his stylists were, he was about 99.9% sure that they were gonna shave him everywhere... but an hour passed, and nothing had been done yet.

Gabe cut his hair (Joe’s hair tended to grow back fast and thick), so that it didn’t go past his ears, and Alex trimmed his beard to make it not… well, not look like the total mess that it normally always was. Nate worked on make-up, dusting setting power over his face and pressing brown shadow over his eyelids with a brush. 

And Ryland just sat there and observed and yelled at everyone.

But no one had even brought up shaving his legs, or his arms, or his chest, or just- everywhere.

“So… are we gonna… like, do I have to shave?” Joe asks Ryland, as Nate dabs on some glitter onto his eyelids with his fingers. This is kinda normal too- talking with 4 people surrounding him and getting up in his personal space.

“Uh, in no world would I ever give you a razor, first of all,” Ryland begins to say, ever the dramatic, and Joe rolls his eyes- he’s clumsy, okay. “and second of all, no, they want you to be, like, all natural. But not... cause of the makeup. I don't know. I don't have answers!”

Joe raises an eyebrow as Nate brings a brush packed with white, glimmer shadow (for the inside corners of his eyes) close to him. “Dude, I’m literally, like, covered in hair. Look-“

He holds his arm up and he pulls down the sleeve of his white, fluffy robe a little, and yeah, he’s totally covered in hair.

“Yeah, but I think that’s the point though,” Gabe adds, jumping into the conversation. “Like, I think they want that. You know, you wearing make-up and looking all… hot and feminine, if we're assigning make-up to a certain gender, but then you also having all of this hair on your body, so it contrasts?”

“It is kinda hot.” Vicky says, from her spot on the counter. The 4 of them glance at her, and she shrugs. “Like, you don’t expect it, you know? It’s different, but it just looks good. I mean, you make anything look good so,” she says, and Alex snickers, “Covering your bases, Vicky?”

“Trying to make sure I keep my client.” She replies, and she taps Joe in the shin with her foot. “But he’d never leave me, right?”

“Ryland can be my new manager.” Joe says, laughing a little just at the thought, and Ryland snorts.

“Yeah, right. You think Vicky’s strict? Cause-“

And then Nate interrupts him, “Yeah, you don’t want Ryland as your boss. He’s kinda crazy.”

Ryland gasps, and he opens his mouth to reply, but then the door to the trailer opens, and one of the assistants to the shoot hands Ryland a package. “This is his outfit,” she says to him, and she looks over to Joe. For a split second she looks stunned, because he’s Joe, but then she recovers quickly. “You, um, you have the shoes, right?”

Joe nods, motioning to a bag sitting on the couch in the trailer. “Yeah, thanks.”  

She leaves after that, and Ryland opens up the box with the outfit, and he holds it up for everyone to see.

“Holy… fucking shit. It looks so much more beautiful in person, the pictures don't do it justice.” Ryland says, his eyes wide. Vicky reaches her hands out for it, “I’m so jealous, oh my God. Do you think I can steal it and not get in trouble? I think I'm gonna try that."

Joe watches on as Vicky holds up the corset-looking top piece. It’s a deep, deep purple, almost black, but there’s something about that tiny tint of purple that makes it so pretty.

When Joe gets dressed up, they almost always give him things in shades of blues and blacks and yellows, because those colors compliment him and his eyes. But the purple is something different, and Joe can’t wait to try it on. It’s lacy, and it looks like it’ll cover his entire torso, but it doesn’t look scary. Most corsets look intimidating (that is their intention anyways, right?), but this one just looks soft. It’s totally 100% "fashion not function" but Joe would take breathing comfortably over making his hips look good any day. He's pretty sure that doesn't make him a good model but... he's good at faking it. 

And the bottom piece of the outfit is made of the same lacy, purple material, but it's boy short panties- something comfortable. Of course the heels were going to be hell, but Joe gives the team props- everything looks comfy, like he’d wanna actually have sex in them.

His mind drifts to Patrick, Patrick wearing these, and his eyes gaze over a little before the sound of Ryland yelling at Vicky to give the pieces back to him interrupts his fantasies. Joe snaps back to reality, just as Ryland grabs some lipstick and starts dabbing on a little color to his lips. “Nothing too dramatic,” he says, “I think the outfit kinda speaks for itself.”

Joe couldn’t agree more.

Watching Patrick work is truly something out of this world- or Joe’s just really in love.

Like, most photographers are kinda intimidating, they're always screaming and screaming and screaming, and it’s not that they don’t get the job done, because they do, but it’s hard to be sexy when some random guy is screaming at you “GIVE ME SEXY!”

And it’s mostly just because Joe knows this in the form of many contexts (sex, making breakfast in the morning, etc.), but Patrick’s good at giving direction. His voice is firm, but it’s also guiding, kind of like a suggestion that you instinctively want to follow . When someone does something he likes, he grins so wide that it looks like his face is going to break, and he cheers, “Yes! Perfect, that’s awesome, keep that!”, and it makes you feel good- not kinda scared for your life and holding a wary-but-I-have-to-pretend-I'm-turned-on-so-I'm-trying-to-make-this-not-look-wary smile just so that the picture can be snapped and you can get the fuck out of there.

Anyways- Patrick’s just finishing up with a model when Joe walks onto set with his fluffy, white robe and his flip flops (he carries his phone and his heels in one hand- he feels kinda ridiculous but he sees Patrick, on his knees, capturing a shot, and Joe immediately gets excited. His heart starts beating faster, and the lace against his skin itches a little, his skin buzzing with anticipation). There are a bunch of different sets built, bedrooms and living rooms and even kitchens, and then there’s a little sitting area behind all of the photographers and all of the lights where everyone waits for their turn- so Joe and Gabe sit together, as Vicky talks to the manager of the event.

“So,” Gabe begins to say, after a moment. “If Patrick pops a boner in the middle of the shoot, you have to make sure that Vicky knows.”

Joe blinks at him- his eyelids sparkle when the artificial lights hit the glitter on them- “Wait, why am I gonna tell—wait, did you bet on my boyfriend's...” He trails off, knowing that Gabe gets where he's getting at. Gabe smirks as he nods, and Joe almost wants to drag his hands over his face in attempt to wipe away all of the blurry edges of frustration- but then he realizes that all of Nate's make-up would get washed away with it, so he keeps his hands on the bag with the heels with them. 

“How could I not? Patrick’s totally gonna get hard when he sees you- no matter how professional he is. He’s your boyfriend, and you’re posing in lingerie and heels. Like… dude. I’m straight but-“

Gabe isn't looking at him, so he doesn't catch the expression on Joe's face- it reads 'yeah, sure, whatever you say...'

“-but, I’d totally hit that! You feel?” His attention returns back to Joe, looking to see if Joe feels. “Yeah, totally.” Joe says loosely, and Gabe gives him a thumbs up. “Glad we’re on the same track.”

An assistant with a headset on calls Joe's name, and when he looks over to him, he catches Patrick's eye. They share a glance, a gentle smile, and Joe takes a deep breath as he turns his head to beckon at Gabe. "Alright, let's go." He says to him, and Gabe springs up out of his seat, his comb in hand. "Let's just hope you totally don't fuck up your hair. I'm gonna go grab a cup of water, I'll be back in a second."

Joe walks over to where Patrick's waiting for him, on the bedroom set. A couple of assistants change the sheets and add random accessories, a guitar case, some records, etc, to give it it's own feeling. A photographer for the Behind The Scenes lingers around them, probably looking for a moment between them to photograph.

Joe holds his hand out for Patrick to shake, and says through a stupid grin, "Hi, I'm Joe Trohman, nice to meet you." Snap!

Patrick rolls his eyes, and he shakes Joe's hand. "Nice to meet you," he releases Joe's hand, and he brushes his bangs out of his eyes. "Ready to take off your robe and let me... well, I don't think that analogy really works. Nevermind."

"Shoot me like one of your French girls?" Joe offers, and Patrick nods, weakly, "Yeah, but it doesn't have nearly the same effect since you're not really naked, and- just take off the robe."

Joe would make another sarcastic comment, Wow, take me out for dinner at least? but he's so eager for Patrick to look at him, look at how the purple looks against his tattoo sleeve, how obscene everything looks together, everything clashes with each other, like green and red and yellow and purple and blue and orange, but they, at the same time, complement each other. He looks like a mess, but a good mess, a car crash that you can't stop looking at except it's not a crash, it's just a really fucking weird car. 

The way Patrick watches him, that glimmer in his eyes, is enough for Joe. He unties the little knot at the front of the robe, and he shrugs it off. Everything gets that much colder, and goosebumps raise on his skin. But he's not sure if that's from the cold, or the way that Patrick's eyes wander on his body. He feels ravished and Patrick isn't even touching him.

"Wow," Patrick says, soft, and his hand jerks forward, feeling the material over Joe's hipbone. Snap!- the BTS camera goes off again, but Joe can't hear it over the sound of blood rushing to his ears.

"So? Do you like it?" Joe asks, just as soft, their voices are gentle in this loud, loud room. Everywhere there's commotion, photographers screaming and heels clanking on the floor and assistants talking into headsets, but Joe feels like he's just with Patrick, that it's just the two of them.

"You look so beautiful. Really." Patrick says, a smile tugging at his lips. "I love this color on you, and you look- you look really good." He says, kinda choked off, like there's so much more he wants to say, like there's so much more he wants to do to him besides just stare. They stand still for another moment, and then Gabe comes barreling towards them, a perfect end to a perfect moment. "Got the water! I think we're all set." Gabe says, and he stops short before he bumps into the two of them. He holds his free hand out, and Joe hands him the robe. And then Gabe kinda throws it in Vicky's direction, even though she's on the phone.

"So- let's get this thing started!" Patrick says, just as all of the assistants leave the set. Everything is dim and dull, the sheets on the bed are black, and none of the accessories are too bright- the only real bright colors would be from Joe's tattoos. Even though there's a clear layer of hair over them, they look good against the ink. Joe makes a mental note- consider getting black sheet for the new apartment. Although, he can't imagine how hard it would be to get certain stains out of them...

"Wait," Patrick says, just as Joe's in the middle of putting the heels on. Joe looks up, and Patrick's right in front of him, his camera ready. He feels like all eyes in the room are on them, and he hears another snap coming from the BTS camera. "Can I just-" Patrick's hand moves to reach for Joe's leg, like he wants to reposition it, and Joe nods. "Yeah, just- yeah."

Joe's so hard that it kinda hurts- he forces himself to think of literally anything else, his Grandma, his Mom, Patrick's drool (that turns him on even more, he doesn't know why), Pete and Mikey having sex on their dining room table, naked old people, etc. etc. But Patrick's soft hands on his skin, the camera around his neck that barely brushes his neck as Patrick touches him... he's gonna come all over these expensive panties- he knows it.

But he doesn't. Patrick leans down a little, positioning Joe's leg so that it kinda covers the whole erection situation, God this is so embarrassing, and he says in a whisper against Joe's ear. "Relax."

Like that'll fucking make Joe relax. It seems like the entire room has gone silent, but when Joe looks up, everyone's doing their own thing. Only Gabe and Vicky look on, and Joe watches as Vicky rolls her eyes and hands Gabe a 20. 

"Just do the heels up- relax your shoulders a little, bite your lip, just- yeah." Patrick holds up his camera and he just starts taking pictures. Joe's tattoos against the bed against the purple lace, Joe's fingers working on the black heels. His hair covering his eyes a little, he looks boyish and nervous, and when Joe looks up when he's done, Patrick takes another picture. Joe's blue, blue eyes, his pinkish-red lips from the lipstick, his glittery eyeshadow, his scratchy beard. 

And this continues for a while- Joe's on his knees, sitting on his heels, and he stretches, and Patrick takes a picture. He's on the bed, his heels digging into to the mattress and his knees pulled up nearly to his chest, and he stares dead into the camera, and Patrick takes a picture. He's in all sort of poses, on his back with a hand slipping into the panties, poses where his hands are on his chest, gripping the sheets, etc. etc. 

Long story short, it's the longest hour of Joe's life. He can feel it in the way that Patrick's fingers linger on the lace, hear it in the way that Patrick's breath hitches- Patrick wants it too. He's not even sure yet, how he wants Patrick on him or in him or whatever, he just wants to reach up and kiss him until neither of them can breathe. But then Vicky's voice appears in his head, Keep it professional!, and he groans to himself as Patrick pushes him on the bed and tells him to keep that pose.

“Holy shit,” Joe’s eyes widen as Patrick pulls this obscenely colored purple vibrator out of his bag.

There’s a backstory to this- but Joe can hardly remember it, it’s all a hazy blur right up to this moment. Them making out the second they got back to Joe’s trailer, Joe being pushed down to the couch as Patrick straddled him. Patrick pulling Joe’s hair, Joe’s hands on Patrick’s ass.

That’s kind of the position they’re in right now- Patrick’s still in his lap, the both of them are still wearing clothes, if Joe’s lingerie counts of clothes, and now Patrick has a vibrator in his hands which is- wow. Joe's not really sure what he expected, but purple vibrator wasn't even close to the top of the list. 

Patrick throws the bag back down on the floor, and he holds the vibrator in his right hand, the other hand roaming over the lace on the corset as he says in a low voice, “So… how do you want to do this?”

Joe glances up, and he gives Patrick a look. And Patrick gives him a look back.

“What do you mean?” Joe asks, confused, as he runs options through his head. But then Patrick shrugs, and he comes in a little closer, until Joe can smell him all over, can feel his breath on his neck. “I mean, you know I hate topping,” he begins to say, and yes, Joe knows, but he doesn’t know where this is going.

“But you never said anything about you hating bottoming.” He looks back up to Joe, his eyes darken, and oh.

Oh.

Joe looks down at the vibrator still in Patrick’s hands, and his dick throbs a little, twitching in the panties that he’s stretching so bad. He has to take them off, he has to take them off, he has to take them off, but he can’t think about anything else than Patrick’s dark eyes watching him and the thought of Patrick fucking him with that purple vibrator the way that he must fuck himself with it when Joe's not there. 

“I don’t- I don't... hate bottoming," Joe replies shakily, “but I mean- how- but I thought that you- don’t you want-“

“I wanna make you feel good.” Patrick says, playfully, and he kisses Joe through a smile. “So, do you want me to fuck you with this? You can say no, but-“ “Yes!” Joe blurts out, and he blushes after realizes how desperate he sounds. 

Patrick smirks at him as he leans over to grab some lube from his bag. The vibrator gets thrown over to the side, and Joe watches it with a careful eye, suddenly so desperate for it to be in him that he moans unabashedly. His hips buck up, but then Patrick’s on his knees, in front of him, holding them down so he can't move. 

The bottle of lube is cold against his skin, and Patrick squeezes some of the lube out, over his fingers, and he pulls Joe’s panties down with his free hand. Joe suddenly feels so exposed, but something deep inside of him clenches, and he’s so desperate for Patrick to be in him or to do something that he doesn’t even feel embarrassed. He just wants to get fucked, honestly. 

When he looks down at Patrick, Joe’s greeted with dark eyes and pink lips, and fuck, Patrick deserves to get his picture taken, not the other way around. He’s smirking lazily at him, but in a way that isn’t like a character that Patrick’s trying to play, like a cool and suave role. He’s just being Patrick.

“You’re so pretty,” Patrick says to him, his free hand moving up and down Joe’s inner thigh and his lubed fingers move closer to his ass. Joe throws his head back, and he closes his eyes, and tries to get himself to relax, to listen to Patrick’s voice. “I know that sometimes you doubt it, but you’re so fucking pretty. God, look at you…” Patrick trails off, his finger slowly pushing in. Joe winces, his hands grip the couch tight.

“I got you, baby.” Patrick says, and he kisses Joe’s inner thigh gently. “Just relax. You’re so fucking tight, I can’t even, like-”

“I know, I know, just-“ Joe can’t find the words. It just feels uncomfortable, he hasn’t done this in forever, and everything feels weird and foreign, Patrick’s finger moves around but doesn’t get anywhere good.

“Do you want me to add another?” Patrick asks, and Joe nods, angling his hips a little. “Yeah, just, I wanna get-“

Joe’s train of thought gets interrupted with holyshityes, and a sob tears out of his throat. He reaches down, holds Patrick’s hand right there, his two fingers press in so good, and his eyes fly open.

“There. Go there.” Joe chokes out, and he practically grinds down on Patrick’s fingers, gasping as Patrick’s fingers hit his prostate again.

“Let me do it!” Patrick scolds him, but he laughs a little as he asks “You trust me?”

And Joe looks down to him, rolling his eyes. “Your fingers are in my ass. Yes.”

Patrick raises his eyebrows, and thrusts his fingers back in, causing Joe to groan, and his hips buck up. His dick leaks pre-come, and Patrick can’t help but lean down and lick it away. Joe sucks in a breath, and Joe's hands slide into Patrick's hair, knocking off the paperboy hat he was wearing.

They fall into a routine- Patrick sucks Joe off, nice and slow as he fingers him open, he lets Joe cry out and squirm around, and Joe keeps his hands in Patrick’s hair so that he can pull it. He never knew that Patrick got off on that, getting his hair pulled, until he felt Patrick’s moans around his dick.

But soon, Joe’s all stretched out, and Patrick’s jaw aches. He’s hard too, but there’s something about Joe panting and shaking, so needy, that makes him pity Joe a little. So he grabs the vibrator from it’s spot next to Joe, and he moves up a little, so that his elbows rest on Joe’s hips. Joe’s dick strains against Patrick's tee shirt, which is just about the weirdest feeling in the world, but Joe’s near tears when he looks down to Patrick, and looking at that up close is totally worth getting, like, pre-come and saliva on his shirt.

“I’m feeling nice today,” Patrick begins to say, and Joe blinks at him. A tear falls down his cheek, and Joe wipes at it, laughing because he’s so fucked out. At this point, Joe’s barely even with Patrick, he’s just on another planet. “So, do you want me to start slow, or-“ “Mmm, fast.” Joe replies, and his head lolls against the couch cushion. “Fuck."

Patrick shrugs, grabbing the lube again to put it over the vibrator, and then Joe’s angling his hips again, his knuckles white with how hard his fingers grip the couch. And when Patrick pushes it in the way, filling Joe up until Joe just sobs out. Patrick puts it on a low level, and he leans up to kiss right over where the lacy corset begins, right underneath Joe's collar bone.

He’s never seen Joe so relaxed in bed before, his fingers have stopped gripping the couch, and they instead hold onto Patrick for dear life, and his eyes look kinda glazed over. If Patrick didn’t know any better, he’d think that Joe smoked a joint. But he didn't, and this is all Patrick's doing. It's all butterflies in Joe's stomach, and vice versa.

“I love you,” Patrick says, as he moves the setting up, and Joe nods, rutting against nothing but the air as he gasps, “I love you too, Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou,” and he bares back down on the vibrator as his heels dig into the carpet on the floor of the trailer. “I-I’m- fuck me harder, come on.”

“That was quick,” Patrick grins, and there’s some Joe left in there, because he sees the slightest eye roll, just as Patrick leaves it on the highest setting. It’s constantly hitting his prostate, and Joe doesn’t even last a minute, between the pressure, between how full he feels, and how Patrick’s body feels against his, how Patrick's teeth dig into his skin as he bites over the bruise. He comes, untouched, with an exhausted sigh and nothing more. Patrick blinks, so surprised, and Joe mutters, so tired, “Are you sure you don’t wanna fuck me? C-c-cause you can, I don’t wanna leave you, like, h-hanging. I'll take it, I'll do anything for you.”

Patrick scrunches his nose up a bit, trying not to laugh as he says, “Yup, you definitely need a nap.”

He slowly pulls the vibrator out, turns it off, and he pulls Joe in for a long, long kiss. “Tonight, okay? If you can manage.”

And Joe smiles, just before he falls asleep. “I can totally manage, I have… I have great stamina….”

Joe’s not the best at picking up signals. And Patrick’s not the best at communicating. But Joe knows that Patrick is beyond pissed.

To set the scene- Joe’s out checking apartments, and he brought Patrick along with him. Because he trusts Patrick, and it’s not like Patrick’s not gonna be over there with him, and he likes Patrick’s style and- why wouldn’t he want his boyfriend to be with him? But Patrick just stands with his arms crossed, and he doesn’t like anything. Not the place by Times Square, not the place by Battery City, not even the house in Long Island that they drove an hour out to look at.

“Okay, what the fuck is your problem?” Joe asks, spinning around to glare at Patrick, just as the realtor leaves them alone to let Joe look around by himself. “Why are you… you acting like this!”

“I’m not acting like anything.” Patrick says, his arms still crossed over his chest. “I just don’t like it.”

“Okay,” Joe says, crossing his arms too. “So what do you like, exactly?”

They’re totally fighting like little kids- frowning and crossing their arms at each other. “I don’t know! I just don’t like any of it! Don’t bring me next time, there, problem solved.”

“But I want you with me! Like, you fucking matter to me, you’re just not some, I don’t know, random person or… or whatever! I love you, your opinion matters to me.” Joe argues, but Patrick huffs in frustration, “So why don’t you just wanna move in with me? Or, or, why can’t we get a place together? Why don’t you want us to do this together, like, why the fuck are you buying apartments here, when I’m 3 blocks away?!”

Joe throws his hands up. “Then why didn’t you say anything?! Am I some fucking psychic, am I supposed to know this?!

Patrick wrings his hands together. “Argh! No! But you are! I don’t know!”

Joe raises his eyebrows, and he flails his arms around a little, as if to say ‘Please explain this before I start screaming’, so Patrick takes his hands, and they sit on the couch, side by side.

“I just… I don’t know. I just assumed that you wanted to move in with me, you know? I mean, we always talk about missing each other, and… and maybe moving in would be good! You know, I mean I don’t wanna move too quickly and talk about… like marriage, but I mean, it would be fun to try living together, you know? I mean, do you like waking up to my drool? Because I’m a drooler,” Patrick says, and he starts to laugh a little, before he calms himself down, “Okay, okay, sorry, serious-time.”, and then he gets back to it.

“Yeah, I’m a drooler. And… and sometimes I grind my teeth when I sleep! And… and sometimes I don’t take showers when I get distracted with work and… and… there are so many things wrong with me, you know, and I still don’t feel 100% confident getting naked in front of you, and sometimes I veg out and I eat too much and I look horrible, and-“

“You don’t look horrible,” Joe says, but Patrick shakes his head, “No, I look horrible, and-“

“No, you don’t look horrible.” Patrick gives Joe a look, and Joe gives him one back, before Patrick finally drops it with a sign. “There’s just so many things that you’re going to have to get used to, and I just want you to… I don’t know! I just thought that it would be for us, and we would get to know each other better so that nothing is a surprise in the future, but… I guess I should have maybe told you before I automatically assumed you were in my head…”

“Yeah, maybe,” Joe says, before he pulls Patrick in a little closer, “But it’s okay. I actually thought that you wouldn’t even want me around, you know? And I thought that our arrangement worked fine, but I guess you’re right, huh? I mean, we’ve been dating for a while… and I guess I didn’t even realize how long it was since it feels like it was just yesterday that we started going out.”

“Yeah! It feels like just yesterday that I sucked your dick on our first date…” Patrick trails off, shaking his head. “Back when I didn’t want to fall asleep immediately after every meal.”

“We’re so old,” Joe says, and Patrick nods. “But I wanna be old with you, Joe. Like, I can’t wait to stay in and just watch a movie instead of having sex all of the time.” “Well…” “And I just… I wanna be with you, Joe! And work always gets in the way, and it’d just be nice to come home after traveling to my boyfriend and his dog and my cat and… I don’t know.”

“No,” Joe says, shaking his head, “I want that too! I just, I don’t know, I’ve just never lived with a boyfriend before. Or dated someone for so long. But, no, I want that. I wanna live with you, and I wanna move in with you, and I want to wake up with your drool on my neck.”

Patrick awws, and he pulls Joe in for a kiss, “Thanks, baby. And I want to wake up in the middle of the night to your snoring.” “…yeah, maybe I should work on that.” “Yeah, maybe.

After Joe and Patrick look at a couple more places together, they decide on a place that’s in SoHo… a place that Joe totally didn’t want to live, but he knew he was probably gonna end up there anyways. He settles everything during the last days of his New York vacation, and Patrick breaks the news to Travie and Katy (“Oh, thank God, we were actually gonna talk to you about that…”), and Mikey and Pete try not to cheer when Joe tells them that he’s finally gonna move out, and… well, it’s kinda sad to know that their friends want them out.

But two months later, when Joe and Patrick finally move in, and they break in the bed (with black sheets) by having sex on it, Joe gets it- they don’t have to be quiet and he doesn’t have to feel bad about any roommates. It's pretty much the best thing ever, freedom.

“I don’t think black sheets were a good idea,” Patrick huffs, above Joe. He’s wearing a pajama shirt, and he’s bouncing lazily on Joe’s dick. He leans down for a kiss, and Joe thrusts up to meet Patrick halfway. Patrick groans, and his hand on the headboard tightens. “I mean… I mean the stains, Joe. The fucking stains.”

Joe wraps a hand around Patrick’s dick and he strokes as Patrick talks through it, “I mean t-think about it, right? Everything will stick out! I mean, maybe not, like… oh fuck, chocolate or, like, fruit juice, but… cum, Joe! It’ll… it’ll fucking stay in there! Get embedded in the-“

“Patrick,” Joe says, low, and he reaches up to pull Patrick’s hands off of the headboard, before he flips them over so that he’s on top. Patrick lifts his feet so that they’re over Joe’s shoulders, and Joe pushes back in, leaning down to kiss Patrick. “We’ll figure it out later, okay? Together.”

And then Patrick gets sappy, because that’s what Patrick does. So he laughs, bringing his hands up to his face to wipe away a tear. “I’m crying because I love you, not because this feels good. Angle up, just- oh. Yeah, okay, better, better, better.”

They kiss again, and Joe’s hand moves to grip Patrick’s as he thrusts in harder. “I love you too,” he says against Patrick’s lips, and he arches his back to move down to Patrick’s neck, “I’m strangely so into this whole domestic thing."

They come together- Patrick wails out (which is something Joe totally isn’t prepared for), and Joe buries his head in the crook of Patrick’s neck as he comes down from that high. Part of him wants to push his fingers back in, see how far he can push Patrick, but then he checks the time, and it's late, and... then Patrick turns so that he's on his side, and Joe pulls out. They don't use condoms anymore, they've only been dating each other, and he realizes that, yeah, things leave stains. “Yeah, I think we should work on getting new sheets…” “Dude, shut up and spoon me.”

And that’s exactly what Joe does- he’s not necessarily living an edgy model life anymore, the guy in the pictures that Patrick took isn’t him anymore. At the end of the day, he's just Joe, who likes cuddling with his boyfriend, even if he drools on him.