One Shots
Patrick Kane
"This was a really bad idea, Kaner,” you said, regretting every second of last night. “I’m supposed to have a boyfriend… fuck, I’m cheating on my boyfriend with my ex!”
You sat on the edge of Patrick’s bed, head in your hands, regretting everything that had ever happened between you two, because now you couldn’t take it back, any of it. Now you were sobbing quietly, remorse building, because all you could think of was how much you loved
Kane, why you loved him, but most of all because you knew you were in love with Patrick and that your ‘boyfriend’ was really nothing more than a ploy to get Patrick back.
"Kaner, I fucked up real bad this time, I just fucked up so bad…”
He said nothing, instead rolling out of bed, and you caught him out of the corner of your eye shirtless and with only boxers on, making you grit your teeth as you tried to stop scenes from the night before from flooding your mind.
He didn’t return for a while. Only when you were about to get up and look for him did he return, a coffee in each hand. He held one out to you, and you took it graciously, sipping on the hot liquid.
It made you smile- he still remembered exactly how you liked your coffee, black with a shot of Baileys.
"Jesus, Pat, are you trying to get me drunk already?” you asked teasingly, trying to make light of the situation you put yourself in.
The coffee woke you up a bit, the liquor lending some liquid courage. It stayed silent until you couldn’t hold your thoughts anymore. You blurted out, “About last night, uh- oh jeez I don’t really know how to say this- but, you know… you know that feeling when, when you do something you’re not supposed to but it feels so damn good… Well, that’s kinda what last night felt like. It felt…dangerous… but it felt so right.”
You took a deep breath, almost as if afraid to go on. “Last night- always- whenever we’re together, it’s like- it’s like I’m coated with gasoline and you’re the match, your kiss, you… Every fucking time you kiss me, it’s like you set me ablaze, and I’m consumed by the fire, by everything about you- you, your touch, it’s all burning inside me, desperate to be free like a forest fire, wild and unstoppable. Like-“
Patrick had said nothing all morning, not until he cut you off with a finger on your lips, asking,
“Like this?” He pulled you forward into a kiss, passion burning in his mouth (or maybe that was whiskey, he had a habit of drinking coffee with whiskey), and you could feel that heat rising inside you again. Abruptly he ended the embrace, leaving you gasping for breath.
“Fuck, Kaner, no, you can’t do that, you can’t!” you babbled, unable to stop yourself. “It’s too dangerous, you can’t,you just fucking can’t!” Your heart pounded, but whether out of fear or exhilaration you couldn’t tell. “No, no,no…,” you muttered.
Patrick shut you up with another kiss, deeper than the first (however that was possible). The fire was there again, blazing through your lungs to your heart with every gasp of air you took from his mouth. Your skin burned, but wherever Patrick touched you it cooled, his hands the water to your flame.
"I know you said it feels dangerous," he said, gazing into your eyes, cheeks red. You shook your head, guilt creeping up to your throat. No, this wasn’t supposed to happen…
"But… it sure feels right."
