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“Let’s go back to my place for drinks, Allen.” Patrick urged the man sitting across the table from him. He wanted to get Paul back to his place for a nice, long, personal talk. His emotions surrounding the other man needed sorting out now, no matter how faggy they made him. If nothing was done about them soon, Patrick was confident he might let his mask slip.
“Whatever you say, Halberstram.” Paul slurred back, watching Patrick through half-lidded eyes.
Patrick felt a rush of… some kind of emotion at that comment. He would make sure Paul did whatever he said indeed. He’d also need to make sure to get the name situation ironed out. No way would he let Paul scream another man’s name while they fucked.
Helping Paul up, Patrick walked the drunken man out to a cab, relishing how much power he had over him in this situation alone, nevermind what Patrick was hoping to be doing in a few hours. Together, they climbed in, and as the cab rolled away from Texarkana Paul continued to stare at him through glassy blue eyes, fiddling with his own tie nonchalantly. Patrick pushed down his fears and decided to close the distance between them, hoping the cab driver wasn’t paying them much attention.
As casually as he could manage, Patrick rested a hand on Paul’s thigh, his heart feeling like it might thump out of his chest. He tried his best to casually turn his gaze away from Paul and watch the city fly by through the windows. When Paul rested his hand on top of Patrick’s, but made no attempt to remove it, Patrick tightened his grip. Paul jolted slightly and let out a small “Marcus-”
“Not Marcus, Paul, I’m afraid you’ve been mistaken,” Patrick figured this was as good a time as any to correct his co-worker. “I’m Patrick Bateman.”
Patrick waited in anticipation at what Paul’s reaction might be. Recognition spread over Paul’s face when he was given the refresher, but he still didn’t make an attempt to draw away from his hand. After a few moments all he had to say was “Hello, Patrick.”
Patrick felt a wave of relief wash over him when Paul didn’t react negatively toward the newfound information, but rather snuggled up closer to him for the duration of the car ride. Sure, the alcohol and the ecstasy Patrick had slipped into Paul’s drink were likely helping his case, but he had still not expected things to work out this smoothly. Perhaps tonight would go even better than planned after all.
-
Back at Patrick’s apartment, the two stumbled into the doorway, their senses dulled and emotions heightened by the liquor they had been consuming throughout the duration of the evening. Patrick had barely gotten a chance to close and lock the door when Paul jumped him eagerly. If Patrick had been any weaker he would have been knocked to the floor due to the force of it, but since he was capable of a thousand ab crunches a day, he had little problem supporting the other man who had literally flung himself at him.
Paul’s face was buried in the crook of Patrick’s neck and he was cooing incoherently while running his fingers through his hair. If he had been with a woman who was behaving like this, Patrick likely would have thrown her off of him almost immediately, but for some reason Paul was different. Not because Patrick was a fag or anything.
While carrying Paul toward his bedroom, Patrick allowed him to do as he pleased. Evidently, this included pressing kisses pretty much everywhere on his face, loosening the collars and ties on both of their suits, and grinding up against Patrick’s abs. Paul Allen already had a hard on, and it was all for him. Patrick couldn’t push down the rush of power and arousal that swept through him upon this realization, and he felt his own pants start to grow tight.
After dropping Paul down onto the bed, Patrick was unsure of what to do next, so he simply allowed his instincts to kick in. He pinned Paul against the silk sheets of his bed and climbed overtop of him. He was pleasantly surprised when Paul wrapped his arms around his back and clung to him. To reward him, Patrick planted kisses all over Paul’s stupid perfect face, admiring the blush it brought to the other man’s cheeks.
Paul had begun shaking beneath him at some point, his eyes blown wide as he stared up at Patrick in both uncertainty and arousal. He must not be able to believe they were actually doing this either. It all felt like some bizzare fever dream, but not one that either of them wanted to wake up from anytime soon. Patrick quickly began completing the work Paul had begun by removing their shirts. Pausing for a moment to admire Paul’s tan, Patrick licked a stripe up Paul’s abs, making sure to take a mental note of the taste of his flesh. Certainly the best flesh Patrick had tasted in his lifetime. It was merely a coincidence that it happened to be another man’s flesh instead of a woman’s.
“Is this okay?” Patrick asked, shocking even himself. Never before had he ever asked anyone their explicit permission before doing this kind of thing. He always let things happen, without checking in on the other person.
“Very okay. The most okay. Keep going, Bateman.” Paul stumbled over his words, but got the message across well enough.
He sounded urgent, like Patrick was some kind of drug that Paul might die without. Who was Patrick to deny him? That’s right. Certainly he was doing this for Paul’s benefit, not his own. Paul was going to be the one enjoying this, and for Patrick it was only going to be a bit of bonding time with his co-worker. Nothing more. He was sure Van Patten, Bryce, Carruthers, and all the others at Pierce & Pierce did the same for each other. This was completely normal.
Perhaps a little too eagerly, Patrick freed himself from his pants and underwear before ripping the rest of Paul’s clothes off of his body as well. The first thing Patrick did was lean back to get a good look at Paul’s dick, admiring it. It was dainty, and almost cute in a way. He felt the urge to kiss it and made a split-second decision to give into that urge, an action that made Paul writhe underneath of him.
“Good boy.” Patrick breathed out before he realized what he was saying. God, this was so gay. And so sexy.
Paul smiled dopily at the praise and craned his neck up to start kissing Patrick's jawline. Patrick let it happen, closing his eyes, savoring them. He wanted to remember the feel of Paul's lips on his jawline forever. Cautiously he reached between their toned bodies to find Paul’s dick, holding it steady as he ground his own against it. “F-fuck-” Paul hissed at the contact, his body contorting at the rush of pleasure spreading through his body.
Hips bucking wildly, Paul watched helplessly as Patrick pumped their cocks together in unison. Precome had begun dribbling out of his penis, and he bit down on his own lip as Patrick paused his motions to play with the tip of it. He was so close to his release, but he bit it back, knowing that if he came now Patrick would probably kill him. All he could do was watch with his fists balled as they fucked against each other’s dicks, their precome mixing and adding lubrication to their humping. It was humiliating, and they both adored it.
Sliding an arm underneath the small of Paul’s back, Patrick scooped up the slightly smaller man and lifted him up so that their entire bare bodies were touching. The warmth, the closeness, something Patrick had never been a fan of with anyone else was now all he craved around Paul. Along with the usual burning sensation in his chest came a desire to be closer to this man. Perhaps the burning sensation he always felt around Paul Allen was not inspired by hate, but love. That was a ridiculous thought. Patrick had always been unable to feel love. Or so he thought. Maybe he had simply never been around someone worth his love until now. That was a prospect that truly frightened him, and seemed to scare Paul as well.
Patrick buried his head into Paul’s warm neck, relishing the feeling of bare skin. He couldn’t resist trying to take a bite out of Paul’s neck. Patrick closed his eyes and let out a whimper when his teeth met the flesh, and he cringed inwardly after emitting it. He, Patrick Bateman, had let himself whimper while grinding against someone. And not just anyone, but Paul Allen. It was like he was a stupid teenager about to lose his virginity for the first time, and it was embarrassing. But it felt right, so he allowed himself to make another noise, tilting his head down to look Paul dead in the eyes, touching their foreheads together. His expression had now melted from fear into one of want and attraction. “Fuck me, Bateman.” Paul demanded, somehow managing to keep his voice steady.
Patrick almost came right then and there. Stupid Paul Allen and his stupid sexy bedroom voice. Reluctantly, Patrick drew away from Paul for the few seconds necessary to go grab lube and a condom out of the drawer in his bedside table. Paul whined when this happened, because he had evidently developed abandonment issues for Patrick the minute they stepped out of Texarkana together.
“You don’t need the condom, Bateman.” Paul reassured him. “I’m clean, and it’ll feel better for both of us without one anyway. I trust you.”
Christ, Patrick really did love this man. It was official. No more making attempts to justify it. Plain and simple, he never wanted to be separated from Paul Allen ever again, and he never intended to be. Let their co-workers think what they wanted, but Patrick knew what he wanted. Paul. And he was damn well going to get what he wanted.
Dipping two fingers into the lube, Patrick slipped them into Paul’s ass, letting out a low groan at how tight and hot the other man was, and his dick wasn’t even inside of him yet. Paul whimpered at the sudden intrusion, but judging by the expression of intense pleasure that washed over his face, he liked it. Slowly, Patrick started moving his fingers in and out, trying to open Paul up and find his prostate. Kill two birds with one stone and make this process a lot more pleasurable for the both of them.
With anyone else, Patrick would have thrown preparing his partner to the wind, preferring to let them do that themselves. But he would make an exception for Paul, just because he was so damn hot.
Patrick set a steady rhythm, enjoying himself while fucking Paul with only his fingers. He adored listening to Paul’s little noises. He sounded so helpless, giving himself over to him completely. Patrick was possessing him, and Paul was letting it happen. Half of him wished he could just toy with Paul all night, but his own raging hard-on protested this.
“I’m going to fuck you now Paul,” Patrick whispered in Paul’s ear. “Is that okay?”
“Please-” Paul responded quickly, digging his nails into Patrick’s back.
Patrick obliged quickly. In any other situation he would have drawn it out, making Paul beg for what he wanted until he cried. But Patrick himself was growing impatient. He longed for Paul and Paul longed for him. Lubing up his dick, he positioned himself overtop of Paul, his jaw open slightly. He teased Paul's entrance with his penis until he whined. “I’m your fag, Patrick,” Paul moaned in his ear with a whine as Patrick finally pushed into his asshole.
All of Patrick's muscles clenched at his confession and he let out a low groan. "I know you are," he answered, digging his fingers into Paul’s hips and squeezing as hard as he could.
Paul's head lolled back as Patrick finally started to move inside of him. His now neglected dick had turned the prettiest red color and he reached a hand down to tease the tip of it. Between Patrick's movements and his own he was getting a headrush. To steady himself, he dug his nails into Patrick's back, clawing him as he started to fuck him. Patrick leaned back into the touch, relishing the rapturous feeling of pain. Paul was going to mark him up. They were going to leave physical evidence of their night together with each other, and that only spurred him on.
Before he could think about it, Patrick allowed his hands to wander from Paul's hips up to his neck. Paul moaned loudly when Patrick squeezed, sinking his teeth into his shoulder. The roughness coursed through their veins in an insatiable heat. Paul wrapped his legs around Patrick’s waist, his dick grinding up against the other man’s muscles every time he thrust. The friction nearly drove him to the peak, and it only kept growing as Patrick set a faster pace, ramming into him. The hands around his neck heightened every sensation, and sent him spiraling into a high that he never wanted to come down from.
Patrick admired the man below him as he started moving faster and faster inside of him. Paul had started to sweat and shake and almost cry, or so it seemed. He must be nearing his limit. That was a good thing, because the way Paul was clenching around his cock, he wouldn’t be able to go for much longer either. The heat, the wetness, it all felt so good. The best it had ever felt with anyone. Patrick hoped they would be able to make this a regular thing. After one taste of Paul, he would become hooked. He needed him. He needed to come inside him and mark him up. Prove that Paul was his.
Patrick wanted to see Paul’s eyes. Keeping one hand on the man’s throat, he used the other to tangle it up into his hair and yank his head back as harshly as he could, feeling his neck lurch underneath his other hand. “Look at me when you come.” He commanded.
His grip on Paul’s throat tightened to the point where Paul could barely breathe, and he began hitting his prostate repeatedly. Patrick’s eyes pierced his, which were now shining with tears. It all proved to be too much for Paul and finally pushed him over the edge. He was gasping for air and wriggling around underneath Patrick, screaming his name scratching his back to hell and back. His thrashing is what pushed Patrick over the edge, and he came deep inside of Paul, finally releasing his grip on the other man’s throat as his orgasm washed over him.
Patrick pulled out and rolled over onto his side, making Paul shudder from the loss of being filled. He turned onto his side to face Paul and watch him, unintentionally ending up staring at him… warmly. Paul noticed and smiled his dopey smile, leaning forward to kiss Patrick on the nose. “ t’ was ‘mazing, Patty.” Paul’s voice was rough from both his screaming and being choked out. It was so hot that Patrick didn’t even shudder at being called Patty.
He let his eyes wander down to Paul’s neck. There were bruises from biting, as well as choking littering his beautiful marble-esque skin. Evidence of their want for each other. Their love.
“Are you okay?” Patrick asked, for the first time it occurred to him that he could have nearly killed Paul a few minutes ago had he not been more careful.
“‘m okay,” Paul slurred sleepily, the bliss from his orgasm spreading over him.
“I think I might be in love with you.” Patrick blurted out before thinking about it.
“Me too, Patty,” Paul replied, “‘should do this again sometime.”
He then settled in to snuggle right up against Patrick’s chest, sighing contentedly. Patrick tried to keep his heart from racing. This was all he had wanted, and it was pure bliss. He kissed Paul briefly on the forehead, and it occurred to him that this was the first time he had ever cuddled someone after sex. No wonder everyone did it. It made the afterglow at least ten times better. He slid his hand up into Paul’s soft hair and started playing with it gently, a sharp contrast from the tugging which had happened earlier. He could get used to this.