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“Patrick, what are you doing!?”
They were married. The ceremony was over, but they were still at Town Hall. David and Patrick had stood in the entry wall, shaking hands with all their guests, thanking their friends and neighbors for helping them to pull everything together at the last minute. In a trick of fate, the rain had stopped sometimes during their vows, and the sun was shining brightly, bathing Schitt’s Creek in glittering beauty. People were mingling out in the street, waiting while Johnny and Clint, Roland and Ronnie, and a few other hands rearranged the hall for the reception.
David was too happy to even care about how incorrect it was to have the reception in the same place as the ceremony. He had just spotted Stevie and Alexis on the lawn opening a bottle of zhampagne, clearly filched from the caterers, and was preparing to make his way over when Patrick grabbed his wrist and dragged him back inside.
“But Patrick, they...mmph!”
David was cut off by Patrick’s lips crashing into his own, hard and demanding. He felt his back slam into the wall, his arms pinned beside him, Patrick’s strong fingers gripping his wrists.
Patrick pulled back, panting, and David took in the wild look in his eyes.
“Oh,” David breathed, his lips curling up in a coy smile. He wrapped his arms around Patrick’s waist, drawing him closer, their bodies melting together. His lips trailed soft kisses along Patrick’s jaw until his warm breath slithered into Patrick’s ear. “Did you need something... husband ?”
Patrick shivered in David’s arms at the words, moaning softly as David’s teeth clamped down on his earlobe. He nuzzled into David’s neck, the scent of David’s body lotion filling his lungs, sending a wave of lust through a body already alight with excitement.
“You,” Patrick growled, nipping at the soft skin of David’s throat. “Need you. You...you’re wearing a skirt and your legs are just...fuck!”
David sighed as Patrick rolled his hips, proving just how much the skirt was affecting him. His eyes closed and he sank into the feeling of Patrick’s lips on his throat, his hands on his chest and shoulders, languishing in the love and affection of the man he had just married.
“Oh, excuse me, gentlemen!”
David’s eyes snapped open at the lilting voice of his mother. She stood just a few feet away, the blond tresses of her wig cascading around her like a waterfall, her eyes sparkling with amusement at catching them.
“Perhaps one might like to continue this nuptial conviviality in a more exclusive locale?”
David could feel Patrick shaking against him, trying to contain his laughter, as he squeaked out, “Thanks, Mrs. Rose.”
Moira bowed her head in a regal display of acknowledgement, ignoring David’s pointed glare, before gliding past them and out the front door.
As soon as she was gone, both men looked at each other, dissolving into a fit of giggles.
“Your mother is looking very papal today. And...also like something out of Game of Thrones maybe?”
“Mm,” David hummed in disapproving agreement, his fingers crawling up Patrick’s arms to pick at the shoulders of his suit jacket. “Between Alexis’ wedding dress and Mom wearing Ermentrude, I’m not sure which one upstaged me more. All we needed was Johnny in a speedo to really bring about my nightmare.”
Patrick pressed his lips to David’s neck, kissing him gently before scraping his teeth against the sensitive skin. “If Johnny looks anything like his gorgeous son does in a speedo, I can’t say I would have any complaints.”
“Okay, ew,” David said, pushing against Patrick’s chest. “Unbelievably incorrect!”
Patrick chuckled, nosing into David’s throat and pushing him further into the wall, pinning him in place with one hand on his waist. The other he dropped down to David’s knee, sliding his hand up the smooth skin of David’s thigh.
“Don’t get jealous,” Patrick whispered, the warmth of his breath tickling David’s neck. “Nothing could have upstaged you today. Not with these legs and this skirt.”
David gasped at the feeling of Patrick’s hand on him, disappearing beneath the folds of his wedding skirt. He wasn’t doing anything too unseemly - just the tips of his finger softly caressing David’s skin, not even venturing up towards the silk briefs that were feeling increasingly tighter where they hugged David’s cock - but David still shivered at the illicit thrill it gave him.
A throat clearing caused both men to jump and turn to see Clint standing beside them, looking for all the world like he would rather be doing anything other than interrupting them.
“Sorry, boys,” Clint said, a grimace on his face. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but I think they’re going to be moving some things through this way, so you might want to...uh...relocate.”
David could feel his whole face going red as he said, “Thanks, Mr. Brewer.”
Clint bobbed his head in an uncomfortable nod before turning and heading back the way he came, but just as Patrick turned back to David, leaning in to press their lips together one more time, the door beside them was thrown open and Ray burst through.
“Oh, Patrick!” Ray exclaimed, bringing his camera up to peer through the lens finder, perfectly centering the couple as they turned to gawk at him. “Such a lovely ceremony, gentlemen. Smile for the camera!”
“Okay, that’s it,” Patrick huffed, pulling himself away from David. “Thanks, Ray. David and I have to go, but I would really love some footage of everyone out on the lawn, just...you know, enjoying the day. Getting some sunshine.”
“Great!”
Before Ray even had a chance to head out, Patrick had turned on his heel, gripping David by the wrist and dragging him along after him. He ignored Ronnie’s shout as they passed by her in the doorway of the Hall, just kept walking until he reached the far end of the building. He tried several doors, finally finding one that was unlocked, and unceremoniously pushed David through.
The room was small and drab, nothing inside but a long table that barely fit, a few dilapidated folding chairs, and several mismatched filing cabinets. The walls were covered in posters for the annual Asbestos Fest, dating all the way back to 1987. Patrick barely took in his surroundings, just shoved David towards the table and clicked the lock in the door.
“Finally!” Patrick breathed, gathering David up in his arms. He breathed deeply, letting the scent of David and the shape of David center him. He felt David’s arms wind around his neck, pulling their bodies flush against each other.
“They’re going to come looking for us soon,” David cautioned, his words ending in a sigh of pleasure as Patrick’s lips found his throat. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“They’re going to have to wait ,” Patrick growled, biting down hard, the moan David let out going straight to his cock. “I need some time alone with you. With my husband .”
“Oh god,” David breathed, letting his head tilt to the side, offering his neck up to Patrick’s lips and teeth. “Say that again.”
Patrick licked a long stripe up David’s throat. “ Husband ,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over David’s ear. He held David tighter as he shivered, dropping his hand to work its way beneath David’s skirt again, this time letting his hand stroke higher and higher.
David moaned softly as Patrick pulled back, missing the warmth of his body immediately. “Patrick,” he whined. “Why’d you stop?”
Patrick took another step backwards, his eyes raking up and down David’s body. He licked his lips, then dragged the hand that was just under David’s skirt across his front to cup himself through his pants, deft fingers massaging his semi.
“I wanted to look at my gorgeous husband,” Patrick answered. He continued touching himself as he stared at David, hunger in his eyes. “Wanted you to see how hot you make me.”
David pursed his lips together, but Patrick could see the glint in David’s eye that told him he was pleased.
“Will you touch yourself for me?” Patrick asked. “Under your skirt?”
David could feel his heartbeat increase, his skin becoming hot and flushed under Patrick’s rapacious stare. Without a word, he reached a hand under his skirt, the thick fabric bunching and falling over his wrist to his elbow. He cupped himself, pressing down hard with the heel of his hand, and moaned softly as he began to touch himself.
Patrick’s eyes zeroed in on David’s hand, obscured by the folds of fabric. He could see his bicep flexing, his elbow opening and closing, but the hand that stroked David’s perfect cock was hidden from view. It was right there, so tantalizingly close he could taste it. Patrick’s pulse raced as he stared. His mouth dropped open, lips forming a perfect ‘o’, a pink blush staining his cheeks.
He couldn’t wait anymore. With a moan, Patrick dropped to his knees in front of David, his hands tangling in the hem of David’s skirt. He buried his face in David’s groin, rubbing his face over the material still keeping David’s cock concealed.
The hand that had been touching himself shot out behind David, gripping the table top for balance. The other, he wrapped around the back of Patrick’s head, his fingers teasing the short hair at the nape of Patrick’s neck.
Pressing one soft kiss to David’s clothed cock, Patrick grinned cheekily up into David’s face and winked before he ducked completely under David’s skirt. David moaned, his head falling back under the force of the wave of pleasure that cascaded over him as Patrick’s mouth found him. Both hands were gripping the table top now as he spread his legs wider, angling for a sturdier foundation.
“Yessss,” David hissed as Patrick mouthed along his shaft, coaxing him to full hardness. The silk of his briefs caged him in, keeping him close and tight against his body. He could feel himself straining, rolling his hips and flexing his thighs, willing his cock free of its confines and into the warm lushness of Patrick’s mouth.
His husband’s mouth.
He’d been saying the word for days, but it still didn’t seem real. Didn’t seem possible that he, David Rose, had found such an incredible, beautiful, selfless man to marry and love him for the rest of his life.
An incredible, beautiful, selfless man that really needed to get back under David’s skirt!
David whined in dismay as he watched Patrick crawl out from underneath his skirt. He looked a mess - his lips red and wet, his hair mussed from where it had rubbed against the fabric, his tie askew. David had never seen anything hotter.
“Turn around,” Patrick rasped, his voice gone thick with want.
“Wh...what?” David asked, the rush of lust flooding through him seemingly slowing down his brain function.
“Turn around,” Patrick said again, his eyes wide open and dark with desire. “I wanna eat you out.”
“I...o-okay,” David stuttered, tripping over his words and his feet as he clumsily turned around, bending over the low table now in front of him. He pressed his face against the wood laminate, cool against his flushed cheek, his arms braced on either side of him. Warm hands cupped the globes of his ass, deft fingers massaging the muscle. He spread his legs further, inviting Patrick between them.
It was an invitation Patrick was all too willing to accept. He flipped David’s skirt up over his waist, then reached up with both hands, hooking his fingers into the waistband of David’s briefs and slowly pulling them down, moaning in delight at the view of David’s luscious ass as it was revealed.
“Fuck, David,” Patrick whispered, peppering kisses to the back of David’s trembling thighs and letting David’s briefs drop to his ankles. “You’re so sexy, my husband is so sexy. How did I get so lucky to have such a sexy husband?”
“Patrick,” David panted, shifting his weight from side to side, doing his best to convince Patrick to stop talking and get his mouth on him. “Patrick, please . We don’t...oh! We don’t have much time.”
Patrick bit down hard on David’s delicate inner thigh and from the high-pitched squeal David let out, he knew his apology was accepted. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he pulled David’s cheeks apart and dove in, licking hot and wet across David’s hole.
“Oh, oh yes !” David cried, rocking his hips, pushing himself back against Patrick’s tongue. “Oh fuck, yes.”
Patrick snarled, his arms coming up to wrap around David’s waist and hold him steady, his tongue working against David’s rim, teasing and tormenting him. He sealed his lips around the wet hole, probing the little muscle, forcing his way inside. He shook his head, the barest hint of stubble on his face scraping against David’s tender flesh causing him to tremble and moan around him.
Working his way down, Patrick laved David’s full balls with his tongue, sucking one and then the other into his mouth. He moaned around his mouthful, the weight heavy on his tongue and sending a lusty thrill down his spine. David felt so good on his tongue. He wanted to keep them in his mouth, wanted to feel them pulse and empty as David came.
David could feel his legs shaking, need thrumming through his veins. Patrick’s wicked tongue was bringing him right up to the brink. That wet, wriggling tongue traced a line from David’s throbbing balls all the way up to the base of his spine, making David moan with the pleasure of it.
“That feels good, love?” Patrick asked, pressing wet, sloppy kisses everywhere he could reach. “You like your husband’s tongue in your ass?”
“Yes!” David panted, bucking his hips back, and whining when he was met with nothing. He felt so sloppy, so wet and exposed. He could feel his hole winking open, a hungry mouth begging for Patrick’s tongue, eager and desperate to gobble him up. “Yes, yes! I love it! Love it when you eat me out.”
“Touch yourself,” Patrick said, then gave a firm lick to David’s hole. David gasped in relief as he scrambled to obey, hauling himself up onto one elbow and reaching beneath his skirt to grasp his aching cock. “Show me how much you like it.”
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” David moaned, his hand squeezing and tugging at his cock. Pre-cum oozed from the tip, slicking his grasp. “Please, Patrick, please!”
Not one to deny his husband on his wedding day, Patrick obliged, swirling his tongue around David’s hole, lapping and sucking at him, moaning at the way David rode his tongue, forcing himself back against it. Patrick’s hand fell to his lap, clumsily tugging at the button of his slacks, desperate to get a hand on his own cock.
“Patrick, I’m gonna...oh god!”
“Are you gonna cum for me?” Patrick asked, his thumb dragging along David’s hole, pushing inside to the first knuckle. He wiggled it up and down, causing David to squeal and buck against him. “Gonna cum for your husband?”
David felt Patrick’s thumb tug on his rim and his tongue lick into him again, soft and wet, and David was sure he was going to shake apart. His hand flew over his cock, twisting around the head, milking himself for all he was worth. Little choked out gasps fell from his lips with every stroke, until finally, with a loud moan he came, spurting across his fingers.
Patrick kept licking at him long after he was finished; sweet, gentle swipes of his tongue across David’s quivering hole, his hands running soothingly up and down David’s legs. David eventually had to reach back to catch one of Patrick’s hands, squeezing it tight. Patrick squeezed it back, knowing David was finished, and he pressed a soft kiss to David’s perineum before pulling back.
Clumsily, with his briefs still tangled around his ankles, David was able to turn around. He had to brace himself against the table, his trembling, coltish limbs not able to fully support him yet. With his eyes closed, David took several deep, calming breaths, trying to slow his racing heart.
A wet, squelching noise caught David’s attention, and his eyes snapped open. Below him was Patrick, still on his knees, one hand clutched in the hem of David’s skirt, the other stripping his cock. Patrick’s eyes were dark and wild, his wet mouth open and panting.
“Baby,” David purred, running his clean hand through Patrick’s hair until he cupped his cheek. Patrick keened, turning his face into David’s palm, pressing against the cool metal of David's rings. “You look so good down there.”
Reaching down, David tried to disentangle Patrick’s fingers and his skirt, but Patrick clung on.
“Just...just let me…” Patrick’s words faltered, but his intent was clear, his eyes flashing in his flushed face.
“I know what you need, baby,” David cooed, prying off Patrick’s fingers. “Here.” He held out his other hand, fingers wet with cum. Patrick opened his lips, sucking them into his mouth greedily, moaning at the bitter taste.
With his clean hand, David gathered the edge of his skirt. He watched Patrick’s eyes zero in on the bare leg that was displayed, his flush deepening, spreading beneath the collar of his shirt. David couldn’t wait until that night when he would have the time to follow that flush across Patrick's chest with his tongue.
David lifted his skirt, little by little exposing more and more of his thigh. Patrick’s breathing grew heavier with every inch that was revealed, his chest heaving with effort. Finally, as David was just hiking the material up over his hip, the tip of his softened cock just peeking below the hem, Patrick’s whole body tensed and with a groan forced through gritted teeth, he came, spilling over his fingers onto the floor below.
David let his skirt fall back into place, reaching out instead to pet soothingly at Patrick’s head, gentling him through the aftershocks of his orgasm. When Patrick was finished, David helped pull him to his feet and into David’s arms for a long, languorous kiss.
“Mm,” David sighed, holding Patrick close and swaying gently. “So I guess you liked the skirt.”
Patrick huffed out a laugh, turning his head to press a kiss to the side of David’s neck. “I liked the skirt, David.”
“That is good information for me to keep filed away for another time.”
Patrick nuzzled into David’s shoulder. “I think you’re sexy in anything you wear. But...yeah, I liked the skirt.” Patrick raised his head to look up into David’s eyes. “I like my husband wearing skirts.”
David blushed prettily, his lips pursing in that way that Patrick knew meant he was especially pleased. “Well, I like that my husband likes my skirts.”
“Your husband very much does.”
David's fingers fidgeted with the shoulders of Patrick’s jacket as he smiled again and said, “And your husband thinks you look very dashing in your wedding suit.”
Patrick beamed, his smile stretching across his face, filling David’s already full heart.
Glancing down, David giggled when he noticed Patrick’s spent cock still lolling out of his pants and his own underwear pooled around his ankles. Flicking his finger against Patrick’s hip, David disentangled himself from Patrick’s arms. His giggles proved contagious as Patrick took in their current state, and both men broke out into peals of laughter.
“What are the chances,” Patrick asked as he tucked himself away, “of no one noticing we’re gone or hearing what just happened.”
David was just snapping his briefs back into place, and he hummed in dismay. “I’m guessing slim to none, but I really don’t care at this point. This was my day-”
“Our day.”
“-our day, and nothing went according to plan, so I’m gonna fuck my husband whenever I want to.”
Patrick’s lips curled and his eyes shone, love radiating off him for the brilliant, brash, big-hearted man in front of him. His husband. “Okay, David.”
No one said a word about their disappearance to either David or Patrick for the rest of the night. Instead they ate beef tenderloin and olive oil cake, they danced with each other and with their families and friends. They laughed and they cried and they loved each other.
And if Johnny couldn’t look Patrick in the eye or Marcy blushed every time she spoke to David, if Ray mentioned a “director’s cut” of the wedding video that would be for their eyes only or Ronnie socked Patrick in the shoulder and said a pointed “didn't think you had it in you, slugger” - well, Patrick was too busy appreciating his husband’s skirt to notice.