You Can Leave Your Hat On

As the dated guitar riffs crackled out of Pete’s laptop speakers, Patrick couldn’t help but mentally browbeat himself. He knew it was a bad idea to say “whatever you want” when it came to planning Pete’s birthday; or any event involving Pete, really. It never ended well. He should have learned last year when Pete’s choice of birthday ‘whatever’s got them both banned from McDonald’s. Every McDonald’s. But Patrick was a sucker for a pretty face, and Pete had one of those, so there he was, standing in the middle of some random hotel room while Pete’s computer churned out Etta James.

“Pete…”

“Do it!”

Patrick groaned as the introduction gave way to the voice of his mistress (for the next three and a half minutes, anyway).

Baby, take off your coat… real slow… Well fuck, if he was going to do it, there was no point in doing it half-assed. Patrick thrust his chest forward, bent his knees into the beat, and peeled his jacked down over his sleeves, giving Pete a look that would have been ‘lusty’ on the face of a porn star, but on Patrick just made him look like he’d passed some very satisfying gas. Pete grinned and leaned forward, wondering if he would possibly be able to come up with something even better next year without landing them both in jail.

Baby, take off your shoes… here, I’ll take your shoes… Patrick tucked his finger in the heel of the sneaker he had just removed and spun it around in the air, letting go at just the right moment for it to bounce down next to Pete on the bed. Pete whooped and grabbed the shoe, holding it up like a prize.

Baby, take off that mess… Patrick ripped open the front of his shirt, revealing a slightly sweaty tee underneath and hearing the light ping of a button bouncing off the TV screen a few feet away.

Heh, yes, yes, yes… You can leave your hat on… Patrick spun the specified article around so the brim pointed to the wall behind him, twisting a mess of hair over his eyes in the process. As the line repeated, he thrust his hips back and forth in time to the beat, peeling the over-shirt off his arms and letting it fall to the floor. It was joined almost immediately by the t-shirt as he dragged it over his inconsistently hairy chest, somehow maneuvering it off his head without knocking the hat from its perch.

Go on over there, turn on the light… no, all the lights… Patrick shimmied his way to the table along the far wall and clicked on the lamp, letting out a little “ooh” that sounded like false reassurance for bad foreplay. Pete tried to hold in a snicker with limited success. He muffled a cough in his fist as Patrick came back across the room.

Come back here, stand on this chair… Swirling hips led Patrick over to the desk chair across from the bed. He dragged his finger across the back, throwing Pete an overdramatic pout before grabbing the back with both hands and hopping up onto it. He stayed crouched for a beat and then stood up ass-first, knowing full-well that chubby white guys were incapable of being sexy while dropping it like it was hot.

Raise your arms up, up in the air and uh… shake ‘em… Patrick threw both hands enthusiastically over his head and spun them in circles, letting their momentum pull him around as he spun on the tiny oak stage. Pete couldn’t resist. He got off the bed and began to sing along.

“You give me reason to live…” The rasp in his voice could have given Etta a run for her money, but he lost points as he slipped in and out of the right key. He made his way across the room and stood eye-level with Patrick’s crotch. “Suspicious minds are talking, trying to tear us apart. They say that my love is wrong, but they don’t know what love is.” Pete massaged the front of Patrick’s pants, catching the fly between two fingers and pulling it down. Patrick leaned back against the wall as Pete’s hands made quick work of the belt buckle and button.

“They don’t know what love is,” moaned Patrick as Pete pulled him out and ran his hand over the bare flesh. “They don’t know what love is.” Even Patrick couldn’t stay on pitch as Pete caressed him with his fingers and teased him with his lips. “They don’t know wh- love… ungh.”

“But I- I- I…” Pete panted the words onto Patrick. “I know what love is.”

Patrick caught Pete’s eye for one last second before he threw his head back against the wall, almost knocking off his hat as Pete took him in, showing him exactly what love was.