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Jonny doesn't give a hoot if the Royal Family of America is visiting McGill University during their tour around Canada, because he isn't a goddamned thirteen year old girl, Sharpy, so no, he doesn't want to go gawk at them opening a new science building with the rest of the student body and block all the fucking sidewalks around the main thoroughfare of the campus like a bunch of inconsiderate assholes, oh my god, move.
"Can you see him? Is he there?" he hears one girl say as he just barely sidesteps her and her friends as they stop suddenly in front of him and crane their necks to see over the improbably large crowd gathered to watch the revealing of the dedication plaque. Why do so many people care anyway? They're Canadian. His shoulder blade itches and he tries to scratch it by rubbing it against the underside of his overstuffed backpack, but it just gives an alarming ripping noise and he subsists. The last thing he needs is his bag splitting open.
"Prince Patrick is so cute," her friend sighs, and Jonny rolls his eyes and tries to find a way past them, but the crowd has surged forward and he's stuck. Great, now he's definitely going to be late, and he has to listen to this garbage. Heaven forbid people who are actually trying to get to their lectures on time get in the way of a thousand people trying to catch a distant glimpse of a Prince from a country that isn't even theirs. What was so special about him anyway? The last time Jonny had paid any attention to Prince Patrick Kane he'd been in high school and had to listen to his cousins swoon over him. Jonny vaguely remembers a scrawny thing with stringy blonde hair, but he definitely remembers not being impressed at all.
"I heard his soulmark started shining as soon as he stepped off the plane yesterday," another one says, and oh, that'd be right. So Prince Patrick's soulmate is going to be Canadian - or he's going to meet them in Canada - and everyone wants to watch him cut a ribbon with a huge pair of scissors and hopefully lock eyes with him from the crowd and become a princess. Or a prince, he adds mentally, eyeing the number of guys looking slightly too well put together for a regular Tuesday morning. Prince Patrick is bi, isn't he?
His shoulder blade is still itching like crazy, which isn't helping his bad mood, so he shakes his head to clear it of stuff he doesn't need to think about, and then spots a gap in the crowd and pushes forward. He sneaks through, only throwing two elbows, and finally gets some momentum as he keeps moving, dodging through the crowd and making his way across the grounds.
Jonny is in even more of a crappy mood by the time he gets to the lecture hall, five minutes late and breathing heavily from running the last leg once he got clear of the crowds. The note taped to the locked door reminding everyone that class is cancelled due to the visiting Royal Family is just the icing on a shitty, shitty morning, and Jonny practically growls as he spins away from the doors and runs right into someone, sending them both sprawling to the floor.
"Shit," Jonny cusses in French, his hip throbbing from hitting the ground and his cheek smarting where the other guy smacked his head on it. His vision swims a little, and he has to blink a few times to clear bright white spots from it.
"Oh my god, I can't believe I - I'm so sorry, man," he hears an American voice say, and that's the final straw.
"I don't care if you're sorry," he snaps, grabbing for his backpack, which has split at the side. Fucking perfect. "Fucking Americans running around and clogging up campus like they're from somewhere actually important, instead of the backwards, outdated, racist, homophobic country they are," he mutters, shoving his books back in as well as he could. "Just leave it," he switches back to English as he gets to his feet.
"Wow, dude, don't hold back on how you feel," the voice comments and Jonny finally looks down at the guy he's knocked over, who is still sprawled on the cold linoleum floor. He's dressed up, in a suit and tie, a little wrinkled now, with slicked back blonde curly hair and bright blue eyes, holding up one final textbook for Jonny to take. His eyes are pretty, Jonny notices distantly. Like cold, fresh ice. He looks vaguely familiar, although Jonny doesn't know that many Americans. Maybe someone from his economics class? Although Jonny has the feeling he would have remembered this guy. There's just something about him.
"What?" he asks, distracted, and the guy raises an eyebrow, looking kind of distracted himself. He shakes his head.
"My 'backwards, outdated, racist, homophobic' country? Sure you don't want to add any more insults to that sentence? You packed enough in."
"I - oh. You speak French?" Jonny felt a tendril of shame wiggle into life in his stomach. That had been incredibly rude, and it wasn't this guys fault his morning had been shitty. But how was be supposed to know he'd understood his little rant?
"We are in Montreal," the guy says dryly when Jonny mentions that, and wiggles the textbook in his hand again. Jonny realises with a jolt he's been holding it out to him for a while, and quickly reaches to take it. Their hands brush and Jonny feels warmth bloom in his fingers, sending tingles up his arm. He frowns and shakes it out a little. Maybe he landed weird on his elbow when he fell?
"Well, sorry," Jonny says, wiping his hand against his leg. "I shouldn't have taken my bad morning out on you. Or, uh, America as a nation." In a corner of his mind, he's a little surprised he's apologizing so easily, but for some reason, admitting he'd been in the wrong doesn't rankle as much as usual. His whole bad mood is kind of gone, actually, and he feels light and airy. His shoulder doesn't even itch anymore. He can say sorry to this guy, no problem. Maybe he'd call his Maman later too, say hi. Besides, it really wasn't this guys fault, and for some reason he feels bad at the thought of making him feel bad. Maybe university was maturing him, like his Maman said it would.
The guy was still on the floor, staring up at Jonny with a really weird look on his face. Maybe he'd actually hurt himself in their little collision? His mouth was hanging open slightly and Jonny has to tear his eyes away from his lips.
"Are you alright?" he asks, frowning, and the guys mouth snaps shut and he scrambles to his feet.
"Yeah, yes, fine, I'm great," he babbles, before letting out a slightly hysterical laugh. "I'm excellent man, like, woah. Endorphins, right?" His phone chirps at him, but he ignores it.
"Sure," Jonny says slowly. "Well. Good. That's good, that you're...good." He winces, because what was wrong with him? Was babbling catching? But the guy just laughs, still sounding a little crazed, but also like, really good. Like, his laugh was an excellent laugh, all husky and stuff. Jonny kind of wants it as his ringtone.
He also looks really fucking fit under the cut of his suit, and his shoulders are broad as hell. Jonny tries to stop blatantly checking him out when the guy says, "Patrick."
"Huh?"
"My name's Patrick," he repeats, shoving his hands into his pockets, grinning at Jonny, dimples popping in his cheeks like a fucking anime character. He doesn't look dazed anymore, he looks - well, fucking ecstatic, and smug and really, really, hot.
"Another one?" is what Jonny says, instead of introducing himself like a normal person, and Patrick cocks his head, eyebrows quirked.
"My best friend's name is Patrick, and Prince Patrick from America is here today," Jonny explains and Patrick's eyebrows stop looking puzzled and shoot upwards in surprise.
"Prince Patrick?" he says, kind of choked, and Jonny frowns.
"Yeah, didn't you know? Are you not American? I thought your accent..."
"No, no, I am," Patrick assures him. He still sounds weird, but also kind of amused now. He grins at Jonny in a kind of smirky way, that normally would annoy him but somehow just looks hot. "You're Canadian, I assume?"
"The French give me away?" Jonny asks and Patrick laughs again, still sounding great. Maybe Jonny could record it without him noticing?
"Among other things. We are in Montreal,” he says again, still smirking. “So what's your name then?"
"Jonny," Jonny said, flushing a little at his bad manners. "Jonathan Toews, but everyone calls me Jonny."
"You can call me Kaner, if you want," Patrick says, watching him closely. "My friends do."
"Uh, Patrick's fine," Jonny replies. Patrick’s phone beeps again, and he sighs and pulls it out, types for a second then shoves it back in his pocket.
There’s a pause, and Jonny tries to think of something hilarious that will make Patrick laugh long enough that he could get to his phone before he stopped, when Patrick shifts forward, nudging their elbows together.
"Are you busy now?" Patrick asks. "Like, do you have a class now or anything, or could we go get a cup of coffee or something?"
Jonny blinks at him stupidly for a second before ducking his head on a grin. Awesome. He nods at the note on the door they were still standing in front of. "No, it was cancelled because of the Royal Family thing." He scowls a little. "Which we were told about last week but I forgot, so running through that ridiculous crowd this morning was for nothing."
“I dunno, if you hadn’t forgotten we wouldn’t have found each other,” Patrick says, which is kind of a weird way of putting it, but Jonny’s feeling so chill right now he lets it go. "You weren't going to watch the ribbon cutting ceremony?" Patrick continues, a weird tone in his voice again. "See if the Prince caught your eye and sparks leapt between you?"
"Fuck no," Jonny snorts, swinging his bag carefully onto his shoulder. It seems okay, and will hopefully hold together till he got back to his apartment. "I mean, I thought I had class, but even now, I just want to get back to my place before my bag breaks."
"Oh, okay," Patrick says and he looks disappointed, like he wanted to spend more time with Jonny, which, yes, Jonny wants that too, that's not what he meant.
Before he knows what he's doing, he's blurting out, "You can come home with me if you want."
"Excuse me?" Patrick gapes and Jonny feels his ears turn bright red.
"Um, I mean, I need to switch bags, so we could get coffee or something after, you could, come with me while I do that. While I switch bags. Before we get coffee." Jonny wants to melt into the floor and die, he is smoother than this, he never has any trouble hitting on someone, especially someone who's clearly interested in return, but he feels weirdly off kilter and off his game. He feels like he's asking his crush out, he realises, instead of a stranger he literally just ran into.
Patrick just smiles at him though, a pink blush touching his cheeks. "Sure."
When Jonny goes to turn left at the end of the corridor and out the main entrance, Patrick grabs the edge of his jacket and tugs him back the other direction.
"That way is much quicker," Jonny says but Patrick just shakes his head and pulls him further from the exit.
"No, we need somewhere we won't be seen as much," he mutters and Jonny follows him confusedly.
"Why does that matter?" he asks as they track further and further into the building, and more importantly, away from any exits in general. Unless there's a secret courtyard Jonny didn't know about he's pretty sure they're not heading for the outside. He tries in vain to keep his mind off of what they could do in a secluded classroom by themselves.
"What? Oh, um," Patrick looks at him critically for a second then pulls him around another corner. "Look, do you honestly not know who I am?" He releases his grip on Jonny's jacket and stares at him expectantly, but Jonny is confused.
"Well I thought maybe someone from my economics class, but I'm beginning to think you don't even go here," he admits, and Patrick rolls his eyes fondly.
"I can't believe I'm stuck with such a dumbass for the rest of my life," he mutters, rubbing his forehead with one hand, and Jonny bristles at the insult.
"Hey, I am not a dumba - wait, what?" He repeats what Patrick said in his mind again, and tries to wrap his head around it. "The rest of your life? What?"
"Jonny," Patrick says, stepping forward and grabbing his hands. It's only the second time they've touched, not counting the initial collision, and Jonny feels that same warmth blossom under his skin. “Don’t you know who I am?” Patrick says again, faintly, but Jonny can’t quite pay attention. They aren’t pulling away from each other time and he gasps a little at the way the heat pours out from under Patrick's grasp and flows up his arms to spread out around his body. It’s dizzying but he tightens his own hands on Patrick's in some unconscious bid to stop him from moving away, although it doesn't seem like Patrick is in any hurry to let go either.
The heat fills him up, washes away anything negative he’s feeling till he feels like he’s full of helium, and only Patrick’s hands on his are what’s keeping him tethered to Earth. He’s starlight, he’s space dust, he’s the atoms of the universe and Patrick binds him whole. It’s the best thing he’s ever felt, and as he drifts slowly back down, feeling more and more solid, bit by bit, Patrick’s hands wrapped around his are the first points of contact he notices, drawing him home.
As he opens his eyes, Patrick’s blinking his open too, and when they look at each other Jonny feels something settle inside him and lock into place.
“Wow,” he says dumbly, and he feels Patrick laughing at him, although he just has a soft smile on his face.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Get why I didn’t want to go out the main doors?”
“Yeah,” Jonny echoes dumbly. His soulmate. He just found his soulmate. The itching on his shoulder blade the last couple of days makes a lot more sense now; his mark must have been glowing, but no one saw his back to tell him. He focuses back on Patrick, giving him a quick once over, but can’t see a glowing mark anywhere. It’ll fade soon, within the day, and Jonny suddenly needs to see it, has to see it. “Your mark,” he says, stepping closer, “Can I see it?”
“If I can see yours,” Patrick agrees, and Jonny immediately dumps his bag off his shoulder and reaches for the hem of his shirt and hoodie, pulling them both up and off, getting tangled around his head in his hurry. Patrick laughs and helps his get them off, then his laugh chokes and Jonny looks up to see him staring at his chest and abs. It’s his turn to smirk a little, and feels a wave of embarrassment/whocares?/you’rehot/pride come from Patrick. It makes him feel all embarrassed and proud, and they get stuck in a little feelings feedback loop for a moment, before Jonny shakes his head and turns around, facing his shoulder towards Partick.
He feels fingers brush over the mark lightly, and shivers as another burst of warmth runs down his spine. “My turn,” he says, spinning back around, and Patrick grins up at him.
“You’re not so lucky, I don’t have to get half naked to show you mine,” he says, but Jonny isn’t disappointed. They’ll have the rest of their lives to see each other with their clothes off. The marks will only glow for another few hours.
Patrick turns around and lifts the back of his hair up off his neck, the curls spilling over his fist. There, at the edge of his hairline, is his soulmark, the same spiral that everyone has, but lit up, glowing softly as it slowly moves, circling eternally as light shines out of it. Jonny can’t help but stroke the edges like Patrick did to his, and feels him shudder beneath his touch. Patrick slowly turns around and it’s the natural next step to lean down and press a kiss to his lips.
They kiss for a while, softly, lightly, small brushes of lip that catch and release, a nip of teeth here, a brush of a tongue there. It’s not at all how he imagined his first kiss with his soulmate would go - the clothes came off a lot earlier in that daydream, and didn’t stop at his shirt - but it’s perfect. Patrick’s hands are resting on Jonny’s lower back, his fingers rubbing in small circles, and Jonny’s are stroking Patrick’s hips over his shirt, digging in slightly every so often, then smoothing away the hurt. The utter contentment he can feel radiating through him from Patrick is addicting, and he very much wants to make him this happy for every day of the rest of their lives.
The little bubble they’re in is popped when Patrick’s phone rings, and they both jump slightly apart at the sudden burst of music, Shake It Off echoing round the corridor. Patrick shrugs at the look Jonny gives him, and pulls his phone from his pocket. “She’s awesome, man, don’t even - look, I know you like the song.” He raises an eyebrow and thumps his chest over his heart, the same place Jonny keeps getting little bursts of Patrick from, and Jonny laughs, stepping back to give Patrick some space. He can't help but exude smugness when Patrick just frowns and tugs him back in closer.
“Hello?” he says into the phone, and Jonny immediately feels guilty, has to breathe in and out for a few moments to get past the rush of emotion from Patrick. “No, I know, but - yes, I do, but - I am taking this seriously, but - would you just - I found my soulmate!” He shouts the last part, the words ringing in the hallway, and Jonny winces for the eardrums of whoever’s on the other end of the line. “Yes, I did. Yes, I’m sure. I’m sure - oh come on, it can’t be faked, don’t be stupid!” Jonny’s eyebrows go up at that, because the third degree isn’t the usual response to someone telling you they found their soulmate, and he has no idea why anyone would try to fake a bond.
“No, we’re going to his place,” Patrick is still talking, although quieter than before. “I won’t be able to make the thing. Or that thing. Or that. Look, I’ll call you when I can back, okay? No, don't send anyone -” he looks up at Jonny, who's trying to look like he isn't insanely curious, and then rubs his forehead with his hand. "I'm fine. I'll be fine. Yes, I will." He hangs up without saying goodbye, and immediately buries his face in Jonny’s shoulder.
“Ughhhh,” comes his moan, and Jonny hugs him tightly.
"Come on, let's go to my place and I'll switch bags and we'll get that coffee," he says softly, deliberately not asking about the phone call that has Patrick feeling so locked up and tense inside his chest.
"I don't actually want coffee, I just wanted to spend time with you," Patrick admits, pulling back to grin cheekily at him.
"Oh. Well, I do still want to switch my bag over so can we still go to my apartment?" Jonny asks, and Patrick nods, stepping back and straightening his clothes where the make out session had gotten them mussed.
~~~~
They're closer to the back entrance of the building now, and Jonny leads the way outside, keeping a firm grip on Patrick's hand the whole time. There's not that many people about, most probably congregating back around the royal family, but Patrick flinches a little when a girl brushes past them on the sidewalk. Jonny frowns and pulls Patrick in closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist. Patrick moves gladly, almost hiding his face in Jonny's shoulder as they walk along the path at a quick pace that Patrick sets, and Jonny has to adjust his stride match his. Jonny can feel the nerves pouring off Patrick for some reason, and he tightens his hold and quickens the pace even more, ducking his head down to speak into Patrick's ear quietly.
"Are you a little agoraphobic, or something?"
Something distantly related to amusement rolls through Patrick and into him, and Patrick lifts his head a little, speaking more to Jonny's neck than his ear. "No. It's complicated. I'll be happy when we get to your place though."
Jonny hums and steers them a little to the right, aiming for a shortcut he knows. There's a small group of girls coming their way, who aren't paying any attention to the sidewalk, too busy talking and looking at their phones, and from previous experience Jonny knows there's going to be a collision imminent if he doesn't do something.
"Get ready to break left for a second," he murmurs to Patrick who looks up at him in alarm.
"What? No, Jonny - "
The distance between them is rapidly closing and he pushes Patrick gently to the side as the girls move through them, completely oblivious to anything going on around them. He shakes his head at them a little, and their clear disregard to anything not on their phones, but as he cranes his neck to make sure he doesn't lose sight of Patrick, he misses the way the girl on Patrick's side of the group gapes at him as she passes.
"Oh my god," he hears come from behind them, and then Patrick is back at his side, hurrying them even quicker along, almost jogging. Jonny frowns but keeps up easily, nudging Patrick whenever they have to make a turn around a corner.
Three different people they pass do double-takes on the way back to his place, and there's a small group of giggling girls following them a ways back when they finally reach his apartment building. He's not quite sure why, but they're clearly making Patrick nervous, so he hurriedly unlocks the front door and ushers him inside.
He's weirdly nervous to show Patrick the dinky little apartment he shares with Sharpy, but feels nothing but fond curiosity from Patrick as he throws his ruined bag on the couch and tells him to make himself comfortable while he grabs another bag from his room.
"I like your couch," Patrick calls down the hallway to him, a laugh in his voice like he's really amused about something.
"Yeah? What's so funny about it?" Jonny yells back as tugs his Jets backpack from under his bed.
Patrick's sitting on said couch when he walks back into the living room, and he smiles up at Jonny. "Nothing's funny about it, I just have the same one back in Chicago," he says, and Jonny can't help but grin at that, feeling a little warm inside at the thought that he and Patrick have always been a little connected, even if they didn't know it.
"Is that where you're from, Chicago?" he asks, because with that comment he's reminded that he and Patrick haven't really had that conversation, the one where they talk about their lives and who they are, what they're like outside of the soup of newly bonded hormones their brains are swimming in. They have to figure out how to move forward as a pair now, not two separate people. Patrick's American for heavens sake, one of them is going to have to move countries. That's going to be a nightmare, halfway through a semester, Jonny muses, wondering how attached Patrick is to staying in the US.
Patrick cocks his head to the side, with another amused eyebrow raise, obviously getting some of what Jonny's feeling. "Sometimes," is all he says, which is...weird, and he feels a combination of amused and sad and a little frustrated, but Jonny doesn't know why. He thinks there might be a little bit of a learning curve when it comes to deciphering the emotional overflow from the bond humming in his chest.
"Can I get a glass of water?" Patrick asks suddenly, and Jonny nods, setting down his bag and moving into the tiny kitchen to grab a bottle out of the fridge. When he turns back around, Patrick is right there, crowding him back up against the fridge, knocking a magnet to the floor as he attempts to bore a hole through Jonny's head with just his gaze.
"Whatever happens, you're my soulmate and I love you," he says intensely. "You're mine and I'm yours and, all that other stuff, we'll figure it out together, okay?"
"Yeah, sure, Pat," Jonny says helplessly. Patrick’s love and worry and possibly a little heartburn are filling up his insides with heat. "Of course. Together."
The feelings coming from Patrick fade till just a warm glow of fondness is all that's left, and Jonny can't help leaning down and catching Patrick's mouth with a kiss, nipping on his lower lip again, because he hadn't missed earlier how it made Pat's heart jump in his chest when he did that. Patrick sighs into his mouth a little, and then all Jonny's aware of is a warm, wet tongue and Patrick's hands clutching onto his hips tightly.
He doesn't know how much later it is when he hears the door to the apartment opening while they're still kissing in the kitchen, pressed up against the counter as the coffee machine chugs along behind them, Patrick's elbow a few minutes earlier pressing something on it to make it beep and start going. It's been long enough that he can't really feel his lips anymore, and Patrick's lost his suit jacket and most of the buttons on his shirt, and Jonny's never felt this way just from kissing someone before. He knows they have to look a mess, but there isn't really anywhere they can hide from what's about to happen.
"Toes!" Sharpy's voice calls out on cue. "Where are you? You weren't at the ribbon cutting ceremony like you promised!" There's a thump that will be him toeing his shoes off, and Jonny groans and braces himself.
"That's my best friend Sharpy - the other Patrick," he tells Patrick. "He lives to torture me. Don’t believe anything he says. I'm sorry in advance." Raising his voice he shouts back, "I said I wasn't going to that!"
"Toes?" Patrick asks, and Jonny chuckles a little, shaking his head. He'll explain later.
"Eh, you didn't miss much," Sharpy’s voice comes closer. "Everyone wanted to see the Prince with his glowing soulmark and he wasn't even there. I guess he -" his sentence cuts off as he rounds the corner into the tiny kitchen and sees them both, freezing for a second before his eyes bulge and a little wheezing noise comes from his mouth.
"I can't believe people think you're hot," Jonny sniffs disdainfully, and Sharpy gapes at them, gesturing weakly.
“What - why is - what?” He looks way more surprised than he should at catching Jonny making out in the kitchen, which has happened before. Maybe he didn't think Jonny could get someone as hot as Patrick? He feels a little insulted.
“Hi, I’m Patrick,” Patrick says, reaching out his hand for Sharpy to shake. “Jonny’s soulmate.”
“What?” Sharpy exclaims, shaking Patrick’s hand weakly. “I don’t - Jonny, your soulmate is Pr- ”
“Also named Patrick? I know right, weird!” Patricks interrupts with a laugh, and Sharpy looks at him strangely.
“I - what?”
“Yeah, Jonny thought it was funny too, all these Patrick’s running around campus,” Patrick says, kind of smirking as he talks. “You, me, Prince Patrick. Such a crazy coincidence, right?”
“Me, you, and Prince Patrick?” Sharpy echoes, eyes flicking between Jonny and Patrick, who’s still smirking and kind of wiggling his eyebrows at Sharpy. He's feeling kind of cheeky across the bond, but again, Jonny isn't sure why. They'll have to set up some sort of practice at deciphering this sort of stuff, because Jonny can tell it's going to get old fast.
A dawning look of amazement slowly grows on Sharpy’s face, and Jonny’s glad that he’s finally having the proper reaction he should be to his best friend finding his soulmate.
“Right. Me, you and Prince Patrick. Who are all different people. Right. Okay.” A slow smile is beginning to bloom on his face, and his eyes are filling with glee. Patrick grins back, nodding, and a tiny, slightly hysterical giggle bursts out of Sharpy’s mouth. “Yeah, that’s so funny! Um, nice to meet you, Pr- uh, Patrick.” He’s backing out of the kitchen now, more little giggles escaping. He’s acting way more strange than Jonny thinks the situation warrants. “Um, congrats, I guess? I’d stay and offer to celebrate with you, but I have to go and call all our mutual friends right this second.”
“What, why?” Jonny protests. Even though he's annoyed Sharpy interrupted them kissing, he did want them to hang out for a bit. He really wants Patrick and Sharpy to get along. “I haven’t even called anyone yet. I haven’t even told my parents!”
“Oh god, can I be there when you do?” Sharpy begs, eyes filling up with wonder. “Please, Jonny, please?”
“Sure, I guess,” Jonny frowns. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m fine.” He’s still clearly struggling not to laugh, but manages to stop backing away from them. “I do have to go though, I just remembered this very real and important thing, but later on, yeah? We’ll have everyone over to meet Pr- to meet your soulmate?”
“That sounds good to me. Jonny?” Patrick asks, smiling up at him. Jonny smiles back automatically, and nods. He doesn't usually like having parties on a weeknight, but just this once should be fine.
"Sure. We'll see you later then, Sharpy?"
"Definitely," he promises, and disappears out of the kitchen. A moment later the front door shuts with a slam and maniacal laughter can immediately be heard echoing down the hallway.
"I don't know what was up with him," Jonny says. "That was stranger than normal, even for Sharpy. I don't think he even took his shoes with him."
"He seemed cool," Patrick shrugs, a tiny grin still playing over his mouth. "Anyway, wanna go have first time soulmate sex?"
Jonny stares at him, then lurches forward and wraps his arms around Patrick's waist, lugging him up and staggering from the kitchen. Patrick screeches with laughter and Jonny's chest floods bright with happiness. He isn't sure if it's his or Patrick's, but that makes it even better.
~~~~
"No way," Seabs says, standing stock still in the doorway and staring at Jonny and Patrick sitting on the couch. "I mean, Sharpy said, but I for sure thought he was lying..."
Jonny scowls. Most of their friends are here already and every single one of them had the exact same reaction. Jonny isn't as vain as Sharpy, but he's always considered himself fairly alright looking. Everyone's incredulous reactions to his soulmate being Patrick are really doing a number on his self esteem.
"I don't get what the big deal is," he grumbles, and Sharpy laughs as he tousles Jonny's hair on his way into the kitchen.
"That's the best part, Captain Oblivious," he calls out over his shoulder, Seabs making a beeline for him as he pulls money out of his pocket. Jonny frowns, staring after them, and Patrick snorts as he rolls his head back to rest on Jonny's shoulder.
"Don't worry, I'll cut you in on my share," he whispers, and Jonny's distracted for a second by how amazing his eyes look from so close up, framed by his eyelashes. Then his words register and he frowns even harder.
"So they are betting on something," he says, peering over Patrick to the huddle he can see poking out around the corner of the kitchen. "What is it? It's about me, isn't it? Otherwise Sharpy would have asked me to join already."
"Maybe," Patrick hedges, smirking a little. "But like I said, I'll cut you in. Just ignore them and have a good night, okay?" He brushes his thumb against the middle of Jonny's brow where he knows he gets wrinkles when he frowns, and he can't help the way his face relaxes, automatically smiling at the feel of Patrick's hands on his face.
"Awww, you guys are adorable," Saader grins at them, nursing a can of Coke in his hands. He must be one of the DD's, Jonny notes, and nods approvingly.
"We're the fucking cutest," Patrick agrees, and there's a startled silence before everyone in earshot bursts out laughing.
"That's so weird, man," Brad comments from one of the other chairs in the living room.
"What is?" Jonny asks, but Sharpy interrupts over their heads.
"Uh uh, no helping, our beautiful Captain has to remain as innocent as possible," he says, poking Jonny obnoxiously in the cheek. "No giving hints or your bet is disqualified!"
"Someone better gag Mutt then, or it'll be over before it really begins," Seabs says, and a pile of empty cans immediately get thrown at Bolly.
Amidst a crowd of shouts calling, "Not it!" Jonny hears a, "That's Brandon's job," and the follow up, "Yeah, gag him with your dick, Bolly," which leads to Brandon being occupied with sitting on Kruger when Shawzy walks in, and therefore not actually available to shut him up before he takes one look at Patrick and blurts,
"Holy shit, you're Prince Patrick of America!"
A chorus of groans break out, Sharpy the loudest, as he bangs his head against the back of the sofa.
"Mutt, you fucker," he moans. "I didn't even have the camera set up! You're on DD duty for the rest of the year, you fucking menace."
Jonny hears all the conversation going on around him, including Shawzy's whines of protest, but it's like it's from far away. Patrick is still and tense next to him, radiating a mix of amused/guilty/worried, and Jonny might have been able to laugh Shawzy's ridiculous statement off as a joke if Patrick hadn't frozen the second he said it. It's true, he realises kind of distantly, face beginning to burn with embarrassment.
Of course it's true. Everything weird people have been saying all night, the girls on the street earlier, Sharpy's reaction when he first saw Patrick in the kitchen. Jonny's soulmate is the fucking Crown Prince of America, and he didn't even notice. Everyone else did, right away, but he didn't. He feels stupid, so very, very stupid.
Everyone's been laughing at him all night, the fucking bet was obviously about when he'd realise, and he's basically the biggest idiot to ever grace the earth. Patrick's muttered comments from earlier that afternoon come back to him: I can't believe I'm stuck with such a dumbass for the rest of my life. Don't you know who I am? He thought Patrick was talking about them being soulmates, but... A wave of humiliation sweeps through him and Patrick chokes out a gasp next to him.
Jonny stands up and steps around the couch, heading for his room, but he doesn't get far before Patrick is scrambling after him.
"Jonny, Jonny, I'm sorry," he says. "It wasn't... I didn't, we didn't mean anything by it," he pleads, face already drawn and pale. All the conversation in the room had stopped when Jonny stood up from the couch, and he's incredibly aware of all the eyes on them.
"Toes," Sharpy says, a little sharply. "Come on, man, it was just a bit of fun..."
The venomous glare Jonny sends his way is enough to get him to shut up before he really gets started, and Jonny keeps walking into his room, needing to get away from them all, right the fuck now.
~~~
No such luck, as Patrick follows him in. Jonny's feet automatically take him towards his bed but he veers away when he sees the sheets still mussed from his and Patrick's activities that afternoon. He starts pacing instead, in as much space as his small room can provide.
"It was just a joke," Patrick says miserably, and Jonny can feel his misery in his own chest. He pushes it aside and tries to focus on his anger, his own hurt.
"Why would you think that was funny? Everyone laughing at me behind my back? I feel like a total idiot! Everyone thinks I'm stupid!"
"They don't, it was - everyone thought it was funny, yes, but no one was laughing at you, just at the situation!" Patrick reaches for him again, but Jonny knocks his hands away. He can't think when Patrick's hands are on him, he gets too distracted by how good it feels.
"I was the situation! Dumb, oblivious Jonny who didn't realise his soulmate was the fucking Crown Prince of America!" It's silent outside his bedroom and he hopes to god Sharpy has cleared everyone out by now. He feels even worse at the thought of his friends hearing this fight through the walls.
Patrick makes a hurt sound, and rubs at his chest. Tears are trickling out the corner of his eyes and seeing them just makes Jonny feel worse, which is probably making Patrick want to cry more if the tight feeling in his throat is anything to go by, and it's like their earlier feedback loop of pride and happiness only ten times worse. A hundred times. Jonny's never felt this awful mix of horrible emotions before.
"I'm sorry,"Patrick says. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know you'd be so upset, honest, it was just meant to be a bit of fun..."
"You didn't know I'd be so upset because you don't know me," Jonny snaps. He hates being the butt of Sharpy's jokes, all his friends know that. He hates looking the fool. "We don't know anything about each other, anything at all, other than you're a fucking prince and I'm a fucking idiot."
"You're not, don't say that," Patrick insists. "Please, I'm so sorry," he repeats, quietly. "I love you, Jonny, I'd never do anything to hurt you on purpose."
"You don't even know me," is all Jonny can say again. "I don't even know you, clearly," he chuckles a bitter laugh, before freezing, another stunning example of his own idiocy coming to him. "I'm going to have to move to America, aren't I?" he asks, thinking of his foolish musings earlier about figuring out where to live. Patrick says nothing, his arms wrapped around himself like he's trying to give himself a hug. His face is pinched though, and Jonny knows it's true. "I am, aren't I? You're the Crown Prince, you can't live in a different country than your own. I'm going to have to move away from my friends and my family, my school, give up everything because of you."
He means it to be vicious, wants it to hurt Patrick as much as he's feeling hurt and confused right now, but instead it comes out broken and flat. Patrick still flinches like he's been struck though, and Jonny can't even name the despairing emotion roiling deep within him.
"No wonder you didn't tell me who you were," Jonny says. "I suppose you knew it would ruin everything."
Patrick shudders once, then goes very still. Jonny almost immediately regrets his words, but can't seem to find a way to take them back. They stand there in silence for another minute before Patrick walks jerkily to the door and out of the room.
~~~~
"Come out right this instant, Toews, or I'm breaking your door down!" Sharpy's voice thunders and Jonny for a second considers letting him break his shoulder trying, before his conscious kicks in and he heaves himself out of bed to unlock his door and see what Sharpy wants. It's been a week since the fateful party and Jonny's blown off class every single day, content to do nothing but lie in bed and wallow in misery. He heard Sharpy talking to Patrick earlier, where he got his number from Jonny has no idea, but had ignored Sharpy's knock on the door.
"What?" he grumbles at Sharpy, still annoyed at his part in the whole "fool Jonny like a dope" plan. Sharpy looks a little wild around the edges, wild and furious, and when he opens his mouth, Jonny expects to get another blast from him on how unfair and cruel and stubborn he's being.
"Patrick is abdicating," is what he says instead, and Jonny's jaw almost hits the ground.
"What?"
~~~~
"Patrick!" Jonny whispers harshly, acutely aware of the hundreds of reporters with big shiny cameras and fancy microphones sitting only a few feet away from him behind the curtain. He grabs Patrick by the arm and tugs him away from the side of the stage, deeper into shadow. "What are you doing?"
"I'm abdicating, duh," Patrick says, not looking at Jonny but instead shuffling through his notecards.
"Yeah, Sharpy told me, that's not - why, for god's sake?" he hisses, and Patrick gives a minute shrug of his shoulders.
"Seemed to be the thing to do," is all he says, still not meeting Jonny's eyes, and Jonny wants to smack himself in the head. This is what he's caused to happen after ignoring all the texts and calls and tentative reaches out over the bond he's felt for the past week. Patrick giving up his birthright in some misguided, over the top attempt to win him over.
"I don't want you to abdicate," he says, still whispering, and feels Patrick's muscles tense beneath his hand. Hope is jangling pretty clearly across the bond, even through Patrick's half hearted attempts to smother it.
"This way I can move to Canada though," is all Patrick says, and Jonny adds a kick to the balls onto his mental tally of punishments to inflict on himself when this is over.
"Look, Sharpy told me about your conversation, about worrying your soulmate would either only want you for your crown or hate you for it. I know I've done a really shitty job of not nailing that second one right on the head, but please don't do this. I've been a giant jerk this week, refusing to talk to you, I know, but I swear I wasn't angling for you to do something like this. You're the Crown Prince, you can't abdicate, Patrick."
"You were right though. Me being the Crown Prince will ruin everything for you," he says, finally looking up and looking Jonny in the eyes. He looks awful, just as tired and miserable as Jonny has felt the past week, and he gives in to the first instinct he has and pulls Patrick into his arms, wrapping him up tightly in a hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispers to Patrick's hair, as he feels hands slowly creep up his sides and around to lock in against his back. "I'm so sorry. We need to talk, obviously, and sort a lot of things out, but this, you don't need to erase such a huge part of who you are to make me happy, Pat. You're my soulmate, Crown Prince Patrick is my soulmate, not just 'some guy Patrick'. We'll figure out how to deal with it, together. Okay?"
"Okay," comes Patrick's muffled answer in Jonny's shoulder. He pulls back to smile slightly up at Jonny. "I have to say I'm a little relieved. I really like being a Prince." He's grinning by the time he finishes the sentence, and Jonny rolls his eyes.
"I'm sure you do," he grins as well, liking the feel of Patrick's cheekiness. "Now quick, lets run away before they call you out on stage."
"Race you back to your place!" Patrick laughs, and darts away, and Jonny gives his own laugh and follows suit.
~~~~
"How much longer do you have on your degree, Jonathan?" Queen Donna asks and Jonny tries to surreptitiously wipe his sweaty palms on his trousers without her noticing. The bolt of amusement Patrick sends him from the other side of the table lets him know he at least knows how hard Jonny's pulse is beating.
"Uh, another year on the undergrad, and then I was planning on getting my Masters too," he replies, and she makes an encouraging noise. They talk a little more about school, his hobbies, his family, and he starts relaxing a little.
"Wait, you build houses for Habitat for Humanity?" Patrick interrupts at one point, when Jonny is talking about the volunteer work he does during the summer. "God, you're more charitable than I am, and I've got like, a dozen PR people telling me to do things every other week." The words sound snarky, but the smile on his face and the pride coming loud and clear across the bond let Jonny know what Patrick really thinks about his volunteer work.
"I work with disadvantaged kids in after school care during the school term, too," Jonny adds, and Patrick groans.
"Ugh, you're such a good person, I can't stand it."
"You didn't know about Jonny's charity work, Patrick?" Queen Donna asks, a tiny smile on her face. "Whatever have you been doing instead of getting to know your soulmate?"
Patrick sends Jonny an evil wink, and he feels the same cheekiness that preceded the whole debacle with Sharpy. Oh god, what was he going to -
"We've been a little busy Mom, mostly fu-"
"Patrick!" Jonny exclaims, feeling his face immediately burn bright red, and Queen Donna levels Patrick an unimpressed look.
"I'm sure, if only to save poor Jonathan here the embarrassment, that I have no idea what you were going to say. Now stop interrupting, I'm trying to get to know my future son-in-law."
Patrick's face loses the cheeky grin he'd been sporting, and goes ridiculously sappy as he looks back to Jonny, who would mock him for his expression if he wasn't sure his looked exactly the same.
"Now, were you going to do your Masters in Canada also?" the Queen enquires, and he feels Patrick sit up and pay more attention, slightly more anxious now than he was when Her Majesty first started grilling Jonny. Jonny sends him a soft don't worry/all okay across the bond, and Patrick looks back at him with a wry smile on his face.
"Well, that had been the plan initially, but with everything that's happened I don't really know anymore," he laughs a little. "I guess Pat and I have to talk it over. Decide our future together, as a couple."
"That's a very wise decision, boys," the Queen replies, a satisfied smile on her face. "I'm glad you're being so mature about it."
"Oh, extremely mature," Patrick butts in, face as innocent as a lamb. "Nothing immature about any of our decisions at all."