shamelessly going to ask for telepathy Toews/Kaner because they’re the worst.
Oh dear. This got a little long and kinky, so under a cut it goes!
No. No. We made a fucking rule about this, Patrick.
Pat thinks it’s interesting that Jonny calls him Patrick in his head, and Kaner out loud almost all the time. Because that’s the strangest thing about being telepathically linked with his captain, obviously.
He kicks his feet a little in his bed, searching for the coolest part of the sheets.
Come on man, just this once. It’s better than porn.
Jonny’s in his apartment down the block, and he’s in bed as well, and until about three minutes ago he’d been jerking off.
They can’t really turn off the link very well, but they can block their psychic ears and yell LA LA LA for long enough for the other to get off, if they’re quick about it. They have to schedule their jerk-off sessions these days. It’s kind of a boner-killer in Pat’s opinion.
I don’t want you listening to me masturbating. The mortification is rolling off Jonny in waves, had been since Pat had stopped loudly reciting the alphabet and had started paying attention to what Jonny was thinking about.
Don’t be weird about it, Jonny. You weren’t even thinking anything super-kinky. I’m almost let down.
Jonny had had this real detailed fantasy going on about being deep-throated. Patrick’s never even been deep-throated, so for the few seconds before Jonny had noticed, Pat had been pretty into it.
My fantasies aren’t designed for your entertainment, Patrick. Jonny thinks at him, managing to sound just as pissy and bitchy as he would have in real life.
Pat palms his dick. Bro, Jonny. Just let me -
Fuck, fine.
Out of nowhere, Jonny’s projecting images, and Pat’s dick jumps under his hand. Jonny getting his dick sucked, Jonny shoving in between open, willing lips, Jonny fucking…Patrick’s mouth.
Wow.
Happy now?
Uh…
Pat closes his eyes. Jonny’s thinkng at him deliberately now, and Pat can feel the spite there. Pat sucking dick, Pat on his hands and knees, Pat handcuffed to Jonny’s bedhead. Kinky enough for you? Jonny thinks, and he’s jerking off again, getting off on fucking with Pat like that.
Well fine, Pat can get off on that too.
Still pretty vanilla man, he thinks, pushing his hand into his boxers. That the best you can do?
You’re an asshole. Now Pat’s gagged in the fantasy, eyes big and wet, and his legs are wrapping around Jonny’s waist. Pat - the real Pat - gasps and bites his lip. He knows Jonnys only thinking this shit to piss him off, but fuck. Fuck.
Jonny, he thinks uncertainly, and he’s getting close, feeding off Jony’s sensations, feeding off of those stupid fantasies. Jonny, um.
Come on then, Jonny thinks, and he sounds strained inside his own head. This was your idea, Patrick, come on and…
Patrick comes with a groan, spurting up his stomach and chest, and he impulsively sends the image over to Jonny, his body splashed with come, come that Jonny put there.
Jonny comes pretty much instantly after that, almost yelling Pat’s name in his head. He sounds fucking angry and stressed and really, really turned on. Pat’s mind is spinning. What the fuck just…
Jonny? he thinks, closing his eyes. Man.
Shut up, Patrick, Jonny sends back, but it’s not really angry, so Pat decides it’s okay to ignore him
That was intense.
Jonny sends him a kind of mental shrug. It was what it was.
Pat snorts out loud and gets out of bed.
Don’t be a freak about it. I’m having a shower. Go to sleep.
Fuck you. But there’s a smile in Jonny’s mental voice, and Pat grins.
Well, he thinks. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
