Archive of Our Own

Present

“What’s that?” Dawson was staring and Joey felt her whole body flush, his eyes scrutinising her little finger of all things. 

“It’s nothing,” she hedged, shoving her hand in her pocket. 

“Let me see,” his brow was furrowed. “Is that a tattoo?”

“Ok fine, it’s a tattoo,” she rolled her eyes in a grandiose manner.

“Joey, those last forever.”

“Duh, I know,” she rolled her eyes. 

“When did you get a tattoo? And does Bessie know?”

“She hasn’t noticed yet,” Joey glanced down at the line that ringed her little finger, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“You’re only eighteen,” Dawson gaped. 

“Which means I can legally get a tattoo,” she rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know about tattoos,” Dawson frowned. It was no secret he liked his girls uber feminine and tattoos didn’t fit with that. Joey, always more of a tomboy until senior year when she’d throw on the occasional skirt, couldn’t make the switch to flowery dresses at fifteen just so Dawson would notice her. She liked jeans, she liked black, she liked converse and boots. She loved her denim jacket. Luckily someone loved her just as she was. She smiled, somewhat giddily at the tattoo. 

“I love it,” she said instead and Dawson grabbed her hand and scrutinized the line. 

“What does it mean?” He asked bluntly staring at the thin black line that ringed her finger.

“Nothing,” she shrugged dismissively. It meant everything. Love eternal if that weren’t too smultzy a concept. 

“I cannot believe that you got a tattoo,” he looked disappointed and she felt the childish need to appease him.

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a forever deal,” he said giving her a look and she felt her cheeks flush. Would it be forever? Was she foolish for throwing caution to the wind after one hedonistic night. Or after forever? Did it even matter when friendship was the foundation and that would be forever even if it faded.

“It is huh?” She glanced down at her little finger, and gave a soft smile.

“I wish you’d asked me,” he sighed. “I really don’t like tattoos.”

“And?” Her brow furrowed. “Why does that matter? It’s not your tattoo?” 

Dawson looked momentarily stumped for how to answer. “I know it’s been a long time since you and I were more than friends,” he began and her heart thudded. “But I like to think we’re end game,” he gave her his best endearing smile. 

It was the perfect moment. The perfect moment to tell him that before she and he were ever more than friends, she shared a kiss with his best friend that changed everything.

****

Three years earlier 

Joey sat at the end of her dock mulling over life. It had been a weird year, hormones affecting her and Dawson so that they finally caught up to Pacey. Her crush on Dawson was logical - safe, predictable, she loved his house, his family. He was familiar and wouldn’t it be easy to be with her best friend? Only he didn’t see her that way she mused, fingers tracing her lips as she remembered Pacey’s attempt at romance, the soft kiss - a kiss because he had enjoyed a disastrous trip hunting for snails. Because he liked her. Because he had enjoyed spending time with her. Confused, surprised and attracted. She’d been so quick to stop him. Too quick maybe, but Dawson was her focus, had been her focus for so long. She was just confused and surprised, right? It had been a fun day. And Pacey wasn’t bad to look at. He made her laugh - such a doofus. 

“What cha doing?” His voice startled her as if he may have been privy to her thoughts. She jumped and then relaxed.

“Just, you know,” she gestured at the view. 

“You guys have a pretty spot,” he nodded, “would make a real nice B&B, big city folk could whisk away their significant others, or their secret paramour, for a romantic creekside stay!” She stared at him as he dropped to the end of the dock beside her.

“My mom wanted to open a B&B, you know?”

“Is that so? Great minds think alike, I guess,” he tapped the side of his head and she stared at him. Pacey wasn’t dissimilar to her mom in a few ways. He was fiercely protective, smart in an understated way, always up for things , and he thought less of himself than he should. Like her mom. Staying in a doomed marriage spoke to a real lack of self esteem. She turned more fully  to look at him. If he wasn’t cast as her nemesis she’d admit he was cute, beautiful in his own way. Still boyish, but with soulful eyes. Different to Dawson’s blue, more stormy. His cheeks were still softly rounded, they would probably slim out, but it didn’t takeaway from his pleasing face. He was tall too. He made her feel like less of a giant. Strong as well. He actually had biceps. 

“Jo,” his fingers brushed at a strand of hair. “You keep looking at me like that and I’m going to kiss you again,” he locked his eyes on hers and when they dropped to her lips, her stomach did a back flip. 

“How am I looking at you?” She was trying to be glib, but it fell flat because her heart was pounding and she was super aware of his finger that had hooked itself onto a belt loop of her pants. 

“Like you’re not just confused and surprised,” he leant forward and the pounding in her heart increased, and a pounding between her legs took her totally by surprise. She wanted to kiss him. 

“Maybe I’m not,” she agreed and his lips pressed to hers, tentative as if he feared rejection. Without her say so her hand wound its way into the hair at the back of his neck and held him close. After a couple of minutes he pulled back, eyes black, fingers playing with the skin at her waist. 

“Good kiss,” he mumbled. 

“Pheromones,” she breathed. 

“Hmm, yeah,” he nodded with a laugh. “Trust you to make it about science.”

“Attraction is science,” she persisted, but her eyes were heavy lidded and fixed on his lips. 

“Then science has a lot to answer for because you’re taking up all the room in my brain,” his large hand pressed around her waist and her eyes fluttered shut. 

“I’m not even supposed to like you,” she mumbled, sighing as his thumb swooped. 

“Sworn enemies,” he agreed.

“My favourite nemesis.”

“The Vader to your Luke,” he offered.

“Yeah,” she sucked in a breath and shuffled away from him. “It’s not a good idea,” she frowned a little. When she was kissing him it sure felt like a good idea. 

“Because of Dawson,” Pacey nodded and she stared at him confused. 

“I don’t think it’s any of Dawson’s business who I kiss,” she rolled her eyes and saw something flash through Pacey’s eyes, and she met him in a heated kiss, different to the first two. His palm was on her back, up her shirt and she was being held close against him, her own hands fisting his shirt. She felt the urge to swing herself around and straddle his lap, like it might help the pounding between her thighs, but then he was slowing the kiss and breathing heavily. 

“I know you like Dawson,” he said after a prolonged moment filled with just the sounds of their heavy breathing. 

“He doesn’t like me as anything other than his very platonic friend,” she shook her head. 

“Maybe he does,” Pacey admitted, “and I wouldn’t want this hormonal…moment to get in the way of what you really want,” he gave her the softest of looks and a weird feeling filled her belly. 

“Why? Why would you say that?”

“I maybe, kinda told him I like you and asked, you know…if I could…ah make a move without facing his wrath?”

“Why would he have wrath?” She frowned.

“Do you really have no idea about how amazing you are? How absolutely gorgeous you are?” He was staring at her like he thought she was mad and the weird feeling in her belly grew.

“I’m not gorgeous,” she shook her head. 

“Joey. This may be a hormonal glitch…or pheromones or whatever, but you are absolutely beautiful. So gorgeous, I’m always turned on around you,” he shrugged easily and gave her a smile.

“That’s a lie. What about when we fight?”

“Hell I’m turned on most of all when we fight. I mean maybe that’s not fair because it turns me on when you’re sweet, when you’re stubborn, when you’re sassy, when you’re smart. Oh I love it when you’re smart which is all the damn time, and sarcastic and the two together? Fuck. Snarky is a personal favourite.”

“I refuse to believe any of that turns you on. I’m pretty sure you and Dawson still see me as your dorky tomboy friend.”

“I might say that you know when we’re sparring, but you know, so not true,” he smiled widely. “I mean I can prove it.”

“How?” She narrowed her eyes and blushed when he looked pointedly at his lap. 

“Pacey,” she protested and crossed her arms, “I’m not some dumb girl falling for your dumb lines and I’m not touching your penis.”

“Seriously Jo, you couldn’t be any hotter,” his eyes were locked on her and Joey sat on her hand to avoid giving in, because she was definitely curious. “It won’t hurt you and it will prove my point. You’re a frickin’ goddess.”

“It’s all words,” she mumbled, cheeks burning.

“Doesn’t have to be,” he said, but the tone was different and his eyes were doing that thing again where they seemed to burn her skin. “Can I kiss you again? Just one more time?” He all but pleaded and it made her want it more than anything.

“Yeah,” she closed the gap, giving into her body’s desire and straddling his damn lap lest the pulse between her legs burst through the skin. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, clearly surprised but also thrilled,  grabbing onto her hips and holding her against him, and she felt it, the hardness between his legs pressing against her and taunting her need. Without hesitation, his tongue tangled with hers until she wasn’t thinking at all and her hips rocked. His eyes fluttered shut and then opened. She met them and he looked at her as if she were showing him a whole new world. He kissed her again and their eyes closed as they both released soft noises into the sounds of nature. His lips moved to her neck, feathering kisses across the skin as his hands moved her against him and they both moaned louder. The sound caught Joey off guard and she blinked. 

“This chemistry thing is a little uh… full on,” she offered and he chuckled, staring at her like she was something very special. 

“You believe me now I hope,” his hands tracked down her arms and threaded with hers, eyes still staring at her as if she were magic. 

“All the time?” She clambered off of him and he nodded. 

“Yup,” he kept his little finger hooked with hers. 

“That’s like a third leg, Pace,” she said and he began to laugh, which made her laugh.  

“Clearly I have a problem,” he gestured to himself, “but I need to be honest, because I know how you feel about Dawson, and I think he might be more interested than he realizes.”

“Why though?”

“He told me I could make a move, then he changed his mind.”

“Interesting,” she frowned. 

“So I don’t want to start something with you if…well if you really want him. Even if our bodies seem to really like each other.”

“What is that about?”

“Maybe we just have a lot of chemistry? Like more that usual?” He offered and she couldn’t disagree.

“Maybe we should be friends?” She offered. “A step up from nemesis, but not a step as far as significant other?”

“Friends is good. And this?” He nodded to where their hands were entwined. 

“We can just not do it, right?”

“Sure,” he nodded.

*******

Only it wasn’t as simple as that. While Dawson perused Jen, she and Pacey were left with each other. She got drunk at the beach party and she definitely knew how turned on he was by her down in the sand. But it was alcohol and proximity and she was abandoned by Dawson again so it was understandable. Under the blurring of alcohol she could admit Pacey was sexy, admit what her body wanted. The fact that he seemed utterly entranced by everything she did, definitely didn’t hurt. Another problem was how much she liked being pressed against his body, loved the feel of him between her legs and kissing him was just insanely wonderful. But there was Dawson. She’d thought herself in love. Was she really so fickle that lust would trump love? Was she so shallow that what she thought was love wasn’t really love, but dependency and friendship? So despite the fevered kisses at the beauty pageant, where his hand found her naked boob and he looked like he might pass out, and despite the embarrassing slew of kissing and very close, topless proximity after her visit to her dad, and despite the way his little finger always found hers when they watched movies, somehow her going to France became about her and Dawson, and not the boy that looked heartbroken. 

Dawson’s kiss was different to Pacey’s. It wasn’t bad, it was ok. He used a little too much tongue, but it was Dawson - the boy she’d always dreamed about. If only he could knock his best friend from her fantasies. If only he could make her body feel alive. 

If she’d known what would happen she would never have kissed Dawson, wouldn’t have started the ill fated attempt at romance. She tried to be in it, but it was like he didn’t know who she was, only who he wanted her to be. He hadn’t been like that as a  friend. Or it hadn’t been so obvious. She missed her friend and wished she wasn’t his girlfriend. She didn’t like never being enough. She didn’t like that she was supposed to be tied up in him and his identity was supposed to be hers. Then he read her diary. And thank god he’d read her harsh, frustrated reviewing of his movies, rather than the many pages filled with trying to understand why Pacey made her body sing, that also went to into emphatic detail about how he did it. Things just weren’t what she thought they would be as Dawson’s girlfriend and she said they should end things. She said she loved him. She did love him, but she wasn’t in love with him. Her crush was fabricated from childish dreams and maybe he didn’t know her as well as she thought. He had been there for her through some tough times, but maybe that didn’t mean he was her soulmate. Apparently she was his. From not noticing she was a girl, to saddling her with the prestigious, ownership laden title of soulmate. Even though he lacked even a basic understanding of who she was, nor wanted to encourage her growth. He hadn’t even got behind her enjoyment of art, of her wanting to expand herself. He demanded those around him share his passion and made no effort to understand something of hers that he merely deemed a hobby. Pacey, he seemed thrilled by her new passion and turned up at her house with a bunch of his sister's old art supplies, his fingers brushing hers as he handed them over, waxing lyrical about how the supplies deserved someone with talent to be handling them. He’d then surprised her by writing silly little poems that weren’t silly at all, about the things she drew so they could still hang out together. And he sat too close. Or she did. 

Suddenly she was single and discovering more of herself and Pacey was encouraging her every step of the way. And because he loved trying new things, they were trying them together. So it was logical that when her art was ruined Pacey agreed to help her.  She couldn’t ask Dawson - because she just couldn’t. He’d never agree and it was just too weird now they were broken up and he was making some movie about their ill fated romance. Not that she’d ever admit it, but there was maybe a small part of her that would like to see Pacey naked. In fairness he had warned her he was always turned on, but she was still wholly unprepared for seeing him naked, nor what it would make her want to do. Drawing him was a turn on. Being drawn was a turn on. When the dumb picture was done she’d put down the sketch book, but continued to stare at him. 

“Joey,” he’d warned her, but she didn’t want to look away. 

“Really it fits?” She screwed up her face and he laughed, because he didn’t take offense when none was meant. 

“I guess,” he shrugged uncertainly. “I mean it’s supposed to, right?”

“It seems big,” she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of it and she stood and walked to the couch, sitting next to him, hand landing on his warm thigh. He hissed and it thrilled her. The power of it. The way she burned. The weird things it made her want to do. Her hand moved up the thigh. Balls were weird looking. She knew that, and his were no exception, but they weren’t off putting. “Jo,” he groaned her name and it thrilled her.  She knew what he wanted. She wanted it too. She ran a finger round the tip and his hips thrust up, a small bead of liquid appearing. “Fuck,” he swore and she ran a hand down the length of him. 

“Show me what to do, how you like it,” she wrapped her hand around him uncertainly, before his large hand wrapped around hers. 

“Please remember how goddamned attracted to you I am?”

“Has anyone…uh ever… before?” she felt uncertain but he shook his head. 

“Please don’t judge…I am so attracted to you and because it’s you touching me this is not a true reflection of my…you know…stamina…”

“Shut up,” she leaned forward and kissed him, softly, her body falling onto the couch beside him, her hand still wrapped around him and his around hers. “Show me,” she groaned, kissing him, her hand squeezing gently, causing his hips to rise. 

“Like this,” he grunted, showing her how move her hand. 

“Got it,” she whispered and then she was kissing him. Hand moving up and down him, thumb swooping over the tip, his strong thigh somehow between hers, providing some relief to the ache between her legs, her hips moving against it until this feeling began to build. She wasn’t so naive to not know what it was, but she was not expecting how insanely divine it would feel. 

“Fuck Jo,” Pacey growled, hips lifting. “I’m going to come, please come too,” he pleaded and she realised she was moaning and moving in sync with her hand, the feeling building up to what felt like an impossible tightness before everything rippled though her body in waves of deliciousness that she wanted more and more and more of.

“Pacey,” she groaned his name and then his hips were bucking into her hand and he groaned and warm liquid was spilling onto her skin. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled the words, but he was grasping her tightly to his chest. “Sexiest moment of my whole goddamned life,” he kept kissing her. “Shit fuck, shit.”

“Are you ok?” She asked worried she’d fucked up at the sudden swearing. 

“No,” he shook his head. “You’re my best friend's soul mate…I….we’re supposed to be friends and I… want to do this all the time.”

“Pheromones,” she reassured. “I mean maybe Dawson wouldn’t care….”

“Care that you had your hand around my dick?” He gave her a look and she smiled.

“Or that you gave me my first orgasm?” She asked shyly and Pacey groaned and kissed her like he never wanted to stop. 

“He would kill me. That would be it.”

“For me too. We haven’t got enough people Pace.”

“I know,” he agreed. “Fuck,” he shook his head.

“Maybe we’re friends who have drunken mishaps and pheromone induced incidents?” She arched a brow and he laughed before kissing her. 

“It’s hard to not kiss you.”

“You’ll be good,” she promised. “I’ll eat more garlic and less mints.”

“I’ll stop wearing deodorant,” he joked. 

“No skimpy skirts or shorts,” she grinned. 

“No drawing me naked.”

“But look at you naked…” she gestured to him, eyes zeroing on how hard he was already. 

“We have a problem Joey.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Does it matter if I’m Dawson’s soulmate?”

“I think it matters to him.”

“So I’m never allowed to… you know… like anyone else?” She rolled her eyes.

“I think anyone, but me,” he scrunched up his face and she scoffed. 

“That’s ridiculous,” she rolled her eyes and in a fit of devil may care rolled onto him, realizing that her thin shorts meant she could feel all of him, tight up against the steady thrum beating once again. 

“Maybe me naked isn’t such a good idea,” he gasped as his hips seemed to thrust towards her. 

“Oh,” She gasped too and her hips moved of their own volition, because it felt just divine. More divine than his thigh. 

“Kiss me,” he begged. “Keep doing that, but kiss me,” he tugged at her until they were kissing heatedly, body’s moving together in messy perfection, until everything centred and she cried out, oh but it was heaven. It must be. She felt weightless, her hips moving once more, Pacey’s large hands helping them until he was biting at her neck to muffle his groan. 

“Ok…so maybe we try and sit further apart?” She grinned at him and he laughed. 

“This is pretty close,” he looked at their bodies. “Maybe I should be wearing more clothes.”

“Yeah, this is all your fault,” she agreed. “Parading around naked.”

“Is it my nakedness or your gaze that’s the problem?”

“I think it’s the combination of the two that’s the problem. Put on some clothes, Pace.”

“Yeah I think I should,” he sat up as she climbed off of him.

“This attraction stuff is messy,” she looked at her wet shorts. 

“Yeah sorry about that,” he blushed.

“Oh don’t be,” she reassured. “I’ll borrow a pair of yours.”

“They’ll fall off you, Jo,” he laughed. 

“Ok so your boxers then. You’re dropping me home right?”

“But of course,” he pulled on his boxers and shorts and took a step in her direction, hand reaching for the button of her shorts. “Fuck, what’s wrong with me? We just said we needed to not do this.”

“I mean if we’re drunk and it happens…” she shrugged. 

“Or you know accidental teenage oops moments…” he offered up.

“Is that what this was?” She challenged him. It wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t and he knew it too. But they had a friend. A friend who had claimed her. 

“I’ll say that’s what this was.”

“Ok,” she nodded. “Maybe he’ll be ok with it…”

“You’ve seen the movie right?”

“Ok, ok. So friends. We can be friends?” She shrugged. “No reason for Dawson to get pissed at us, no reason for us to lose our best friend, no reason for everything to go to hell.”

“And maybe we should make some friends outside of Dawson too?” he grinned.

“I’m not good at that.”

“Jen wants to be your friend - badly.”

“Yeah ok. And there’s this new kid Jack at the Icehouse!”

“Perfect,” he swayed closer and his hand was somehow tangled in her dark locks. “One more, please?”

“Yeah,” she nodded.

******

It was hard to be just friends with Pacey. They weren’t good at it, but Dawson kept going on about soulmates and how she was his best friend and they didn’t want to lose him. He’d been there for her and he’d been there for Pacey and it was hard to imagine a world where they weren’t friends with Dawson, where they couldn’t climb in his bedroom window. It would be isolating not to have the Leery’s and both she and Pacey felt it. So Joey talked about finding herself, about not being ready to date and she and Pacey told themselves they were friends, close friends, best friends. Because a person could have more than one. It didn’t mean anything that they would sit cuddled up when they watched movies alone, it was comfortable. So what if their little fingers always found each other when there was opportunity. That little bit of contact becoming everything. Pacey knew when something upset her, knew when she felt alone and he gave what he could. Jen noticed. Her other best friend once Joey put in the effort. Once Joey had accepted she didn’t want Dawson romantically, and got over being usurped in her platonic position. Funny, but with Joey as her friend and encouraging her, Jen didn’t want Dawson either. 

“Why don’t you two just admit it and get together?” Jen asked for the millionth time as they walked to the Icehouse for a study session. 

“We admit we’re friends, that’s a step forward for all of us,” Joey grinned and Jen just fixed her with a steely look, that begged honesty. 

“Joey, that boy looks at you like you're the sun, the moon and the stars, the rain and wind too.”

“He doesn’t,” she protested, but a small smile played on her lips because the way he looked at her since snailgate was intoxicating.

“Joey,” Jen hooked their arms together. “Is he a good kisser?”

“What? I…. Jen… that’s…”

“I thought he would be.”

“It was just hormones and you know pheromones and….”

“And Dawson would flip?” Jen mused astutely and Joey nodded. 

“We’re just friends. We’re ok like that.”

“I saw you kissing at Nellie’s party,” Jen gave her a look and she blushed.

“Drunken mistake.”

“If you’re planning to not piss off Dawson, I’d keep the drunken mishaps a little more private.”

“We’ll do better,” she agreed. “I mean this is Pacey. My nemesis, the Vader to my Luke…”

“Sure,” Jen laughed. 

“No really Jen…. My life… I just can’t lose any more people. I can’t. I don’t have enough and…”

“I get it. Dawson is pretty insistent that you’re his. But you’re not. You’re your own person. Don’t let him dictate your whole life.”

“I’m not,” She felt defensive. It was hard to explain Dawson. “I thought I wanted him for so long. He was so kind when my mom died, when my dad went to prison.”

“You were friends. I bet Pacey wasn’t unkind.”

“No, he was lovely - in his own goofy way,” Joey admitted. “Dawson knew when I needed to talk and when I didn’t. He would spend hours talking about my grief.”

“And Pacey?” Jen looked at her astutely.

“Pacey knew when I needed time with Dawson and gave us space…and…” she trailed off thinking back.

“And?”

“He knew when it was enough. When I needed to stop talking and learn to live again.”

“And what did he do?”

“Annoyed me,” she smiled softly. “Coaxed me into battle.”

“So if they were both there, in their own way, why is Dawson so much more important?”

“He’s not more important,” Joey hedged. “I guess… everything was so bad, for so long and Dawson and his house were a sanctuary and our friendship was so simple….”

“So why is it so complicated now?” Jen stared at her. “I mean if the friendship was simple he should want you happy. I’m pretty sure his best friend makes you happy.”

“It would wreck everything. I mean everything. Dawson is a big powerful force in our life and he’s so competitive with Pacey, like anyone else maybe, but Pacey? It would make everything hard and difficult and… Pacey and I are friends and this attraction doesn’t mean anything… it’s just hormones and pheromones and…”

“Yeah it’s off the charts.”

“It’s nothing,” she insisted and Jen laughed. 

“Sure, sure.”

*****

During the fire Pacey had clung to her. Dawson had gone after her father, but Pacey wouldn’t let her go, his hands holding her, keeping her close. He’d released her to her dad and she’d squeezed his hand. She wanted him, but she needed her dad. 

She had showered, but she could still smell the smoke on her skin, on her hair, as if it had seeped into the very fabric of her being, woven itself as part of her, in tendrils wrapped around her DNA. She couldn’t sleep and was unsurprised when there was a soft knock at the door. She didn’t need to ask who it was and opened the door to his serious face, neither one initiating the tight hug. 

“Are you ok?” he asked looking down at her and she shook her head. 

“I think… I think dad’s doing bad things again.”

“I’m sorry,” he didn’t deny it. “I really wish he could be stronger for you.”

“Pace…” she looked up at him and felt the electric need for him. The one they pretended wasn’t there. 

“Can I stay? I can get up early so no one knows.”

“Please stay,” she nodded and they moved to her sofa-bed Pacey curling up tight around her, warm hand splayed on her stomach under her tank, lips pressed against the point where her shoulder and neck met. 

“When you ran into the fire not out of it…” he squeezed. “I was so scared.”

“I just… he’s my dad,” she wriggled back. 

“I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you,” he admitted and she flushed. “I’m glad Dawson got your dad, but…I couldn’t. I had to make sure you were safe,” his finger stroked the skin of her stomach and her belly flip flopped. The words, the amount he seemed to care, she wanted more than an innocent hug, but didn’t know how to ask for it. 

“Pacey,” she pleaded and wriggled her ass against the evidence of his attraction, then put her hand on his and pushed it south. 

“Joey,” he groaned, hips pushing against her as his hand slid easily under his old boxers that she still wore as nightwear and onto her. “Fuck,” the whispered curse into her shoulder, that became soft kisses as he tried to figure out how to touch her, listening carefully to her breathing and her noises.  “You’re so wet,” he whispered and she’d have been embarrassed, but he seemed in awe.

“The constantly turned on seems to be a problem we share,” she gasped as his thumb hit the mark. 

“There?” He checked.

“Yes,” she moaned the word as he did it again. 

“Fuck, Jo,” he dipped his fingers down and brought the wet up and she felt like she was about to burst. She wanted his thumb to never stop, but the idea of his fingers inside of her drove her crazy. 

“Pace,” she pleaded.

“Tell me,” his voice was so deep. 

“Your finger in me, please,” she wasn’t even that shy because the request had his hips bucking into her, a low growl against her skin, and the divine feeling of one of his fingers slipping into her as his thumb tortured her. “Oh my god,” she gasped the words as everything exploded, way too quickly, but more powerfully than it ever had before, so much so that her legs clamped shut around his hand and her hands held it firmly in position. 

“I…really… I,” Pacey mumbled incoherent ramblings, ones that she understood because she felt it too, his warm breath in her ear, as he squeezed her and pressed ardent kisses everywhere he could. 

“Thank you,” she cooed releasing his hand and placing it back on her stomach, scooting more firmly back against him. 

“Any time,” he whispered, looking awed and squeezed her tight.

********

The first time they got naked together was the fault of Dawson and rum. Dawson who made her wear a wire and get her dad arrested like he was some fucking noble do gooder. She was so angry and upset and hurt that he would make her do it, force her into that position. She told him she never wanted to see him again, that she’d never forgive him, and all she wanted was to see Pacey. Pacey who was driving to see her having heard the whole awful story over dinner. 

“Jo,” he called from the Wagoneer and she’d looked up. 

“Oh good,” she didn’t even ask before jumping in the car. She didn’t need to be told that he’d been driving to her. “Tell me Pace, why do we care about that asshole thinks? Why?”

“Because he’s your friend. Our friend,” Pacey was being diplomatic, but his hands were squeezing the steering wheel tight.

“Really?” She loaded the word with sarcasm, “because sometimes he feels like my boss, telling me how to behave, who I can kiss, who I can’t, that I have to get my dad arrested…”

“Where are we going Jo?”

“Anywhere we can be alone…”

“The beach?”

“And naked,” she pulled the rum from her jacket, “excuse present,” she took a draw from the bottle. 

“My room?” He asked and she was glad he didn’t call her out, tell her she didn’t know what she wanted when she did. He knew that she always wanted him and that the pheromonic combustion was a part of their life. 

“No one will knock?”

“No one ever knocks.”

It wasn’t careful, or romantic, more frantic. She stripped off everything, throwing it every which way before dropping to his bed. Pacey was staring at her, wide, appreciative eyes tracking every bit of skin, stalling at her breasts, her lips, her eyes and between her legs. She let her legs sway open and Pacey took an obligatory shot of rum and threw his clothes off before covering her body with his. She pretended not to hear him say he loved her, and enjoyed the way he touched her body, the way he kissed her, the unholy feeling of his mouth between her legs, that he perfected very quickly, and the unexpected thrill of putting her mouth on him. It was hot, it was sexy, it was close and it made everything feel better, made her feel that things would be ok, even if she had no idea how. She thrilled at the connection, at the raw desire in his eyes, at how he could be passionate and sexy at the same time as showing that he cared. They fell asleep, naked bodies pressed together and when she woke up in the morning she hugged him tighter. 

********

Dawson left for Philadelphia and she was relieved. She and Pacey stopped being so careful, stopped resisting. So what if Jen, Jack and Andie saw their little fingers entwined? So what if they got drunk and made out? They were best friends and they were allowed to cuddle up to watch movies. They kept pushing the friend line and the others accepted it, because touchy feely was understandable. Clearly they didn’t believe it even if they accepted it. Joey didn’t believe it. And as they lay, once again naked and entangled in Pacey’s bed, the obligatory shot of rum to excuse their behaviour she broached Dawson’s inevitable return. 

“What do we do?” she began and he didn’t immediately understand.

“Take another shot of rum and you open those beautiful legs of yours and let me kiss you there,” his voice was deep, husky, unbearably sexy. 

“Hmmm yeah,” she murmured, but halted his descent beneath the covers. “I meant about the fact that this chemistry thing is so entirely overwhelming. It’s like we look at each other and just want…”

“Proximity?” He asked from where his chin was resting on her stomach. 

“Yes,” she smiled at him. “I don’t suppose we can really play the denial card.”

“Are you ready to lose Dawson?”

“Are you?”

“I feel like he’s already lost in some ways. But it does make me feel sick to think of life without him. I’m not angry anymore.”

“I’d lose him for you,” Pacey admitted the closest they came to discussing the forbidden - feelings.

“You’re my best friend,” she side stepped the admission and if he was disappointed he didn’t show it. 

“You’re mine. But he’s the linchpin of all of us. Or it’s how it feels.”

“Maybe we tell him when he’s back? It’s been three months? No contact. I mean things change.”

“What would we be telling him?” Pacey asked, but then ducked beneath the covers and pushed his tongue through her before moving to her clit and drawing out an orgasm that had her fisting the sheets and crying out. He kissed up her body until his dick was pressed right against her and not for the first time, she desperately wanted to tilt her hips and have him slide inside of her. “What would we be telling him?”

“I… I don’t know. What would we be telling him?”

“I know what I’d be saying?”

“Which is?” She asked. He was so much braver than her. 

“That what’s between me and you is more than friendship. That I like you a whole lot more than friends. That I think we’d be amazing together.”

“Pace, we don’t acknowledge that,” she kissed his neck.

“We can blame it on the rum in the cold light of day, but Jo, I really fucking like you.”

“I really like you too,” she admitted and they kissed. 

“I’d like to see what happens?”

“And if it’s good then great,” she wriggled and his body moved against her delectably. 

“And if it’s bad, we can carry our bottle of rum around and your little finger is mine… unless you know…”

“Pheromones get the better of us.”

“Exactly,” he grinned. “I like us. I love our friendship. I love spending time with you and yeah, I love it when we slip up.”

She knew what he was saying and what he wasn’t.

“I love it too,” she said and he gave her a huge smile before claiming her lips, his hips moving against hers. 

***********

Dawson returned with a pixie cut blond girl and when Pacey, as planned, shared about a couple of the drunken make out sessions he and Joey had shared, a total understatement, Dawson lost his shit. He’d punched Pacey, told her he didn’t want to see her, then in an about turn began declaring love and forcing his intentions into her face at every opportunity, all as he continued to shun Pacey. In addition to getting everyone to take sides and set their group into some weird awkward mess. This lasted a week until she and Pacey had sat him down together and she made Dawson listen. They were drunk. It was just a consequence of a lot of time together, hormones and rum. Pacey was asking, not telling. Dawson was appeased, but tried to uptick the amount of time she spent with him. Tried to repaint their ill fated attempt at romance - make it more grandiose and meaningful than it had been, and he tried to nudge Pacey out of their shared past. Joey wasn’t having it. She reiterated to Dawson that she and him were friends and only friends. She didn’t want to date and she wanted other friends, the ones she chose not that he sanctioned. She told him that throwing away a friendship with Pacey, who had been an excellent friend, just because he’d dared get drunk and make out with her, was plain ridiculous and for as long as he punished Pacey, she wouldn’t be hanging out with him. Gradually things reset. 

Dawson noticed the little finger thing. Because of course he watched them closely. First he’d asked Joey why she always sat with her little finger entwined with Pacey’s and she’d been rather glib.

“Habit,” she’d shrugged. “Like how I always link arms with Jen or pat Jack's hand or like how I always sit on the right side of the bed when we watch movies.” Pacey always sat in the chair beside her. 

“I don’t buy habit,” Dawson had frowned.

“It’s true,” Jen piped up, ever the wonderful best friend. “They spent all summer making pinkie promises about the most stupid stuff. The linked pinkies became a thing. You had to keep them linked until the promise was fulfilled.”

“What promise is left to be fulfilled?” Dawson asked and Pacey looked awkwardly out the window as Joey gave a shy little laugh.

“I don’t think you’d like it.”

“Why not?”

“Look we were really drunk man. Your girl Jen here knows how to throw a summer rager and Joey, she’d never had a mojito and my girl Jo apparently loves mojitos. She’s drinking them down like they’re Diet Coke. And it’s Jen's party so we’re  playing truth or dare and somehow we start talking about sex and somehow we get onto losing our virginities and well Jo and I are clearly lagging behind the rest of the group so we make an admittedly drunken pinky promise…”

“To have sex?” Dawson yelled, clearly horrified and Pacey gave him a look, as if to say ‘would you let me finish.’

“Yes to have sex, if we were both still virgins at grad.”

“And you have to link pinkies every chance you get until grad?”

“Or until we lose our virginities,” Joey added helpfully. 

“And if one does and the other doesn’t?” Dawson asked and Pacey tightened his hold of her little finger. 

“Who am I going to have sex with?” Joey gave Dawson a look and the way he looked back at her told everyone who he thought she should be sleeping with.

“I can’t see Pacey staying a virgin till grad,” Dawson attempted. 

“I spend all my time with you guys or studying with Jo, so who am I going to sleep with?”

“You both need to get out more,” Dawson huffed.

“Talking about getting out more I heard Matt Caulfield is having an anti-valentines day party,” Jack shrugged.

“We’re in,” Dawson announced at once. 

“Will there be mojitos?” Joey asked and Jen threw a cushion at her. 

“No mojitos, but I’ll bring you rum,” Jen looked pointedly at Pacey and Joey felt that she needed to confide in her friend.

“Let’s get snacks Jen,” she stood and tugged Jen up from the ground and dragged her downstairs and into the Leery’s downstairs restroom locking the door behind them. 

“Yes?” Jen crossed her arms and waited expectantly.

“Pheromones,” Joey managed to splutter. “Pacey and me we have lots.”

“I had noticed.”

“He kissed me…” Joey put the lid on the toilet and sat down. 

“He kisses you every chance he gets.”

“The first time was Sophomore year, remember the carnival? That orchestrated date with you and Cliff and Dawson and Mary Beth?” 

“So a year and a half ago?” Jen gaped. 

“It kept happening. It was like we had a problem. We’d watch a movie and end up cuddling. If we couldn’t cuddle, his little finger would find mine. He used to be less obvious, but this summer you caught us so many times. We’ve always blamed alcohol or hormones or pheromones and let it just be that. So much simpler. Pacey tried to tell Dawson that something could happen and it was awful - everything fell apart - you remember?”

“I know all this. Are you telling me you’re secretly together?” Jen frowned.

“No we’re not. We’re just hormonally challenged. We don’t go on dates, we don’t sit around kissing…well not all the time…it’s just so hard not too and he’s so good at touching me and…other stuff…”

“Have you and Pacey had sex?” Jen hissed and Joey shook her head. 

“No…I mean it’s come close, but we aren’t together and I don’t want to do that, you know if we’re not. I just…wish it were different sometimes - that’s what I’m admitting to you.”

“Why are you telling me this now?” Jen asked. “I told you that you should be together.”

“You’re my best friend. You’re always so nice to me, and you protect me without knowing why and I just appreciate you.”

“Joey, I knew about you and Pacey. It’s so obvious. All of it. He’s in love with you,” Jen said and Joey shook her head even though she knew it was true. “And you’re in love with him.” Joey kept shaking her head. “And I understand why you’re saying you’re not, and I understand that being friends who occasionally can’t resist each other is easier than blowing up everything, but you do not owe it to Dawson to not date each other. You’re not his.”

“This works. It’s not complicated, we understand what it is and we make it work.”

“Wouldn’t you like to date him?” Jen frowned again.

“I want to enjoy high school, my friends, and him. I don’t know. Maybe this is a mistake, but we’re not lying and it keeps the peace.”

“But you are in love?” Jen gave her a look.

“Nothing in my life lasts, Jen. If this is something then I’ll lose it. I can’t lose Pacey, my friend, or Dawson. I can’t lose anyone else. I told you that before. It’s still true.”

“Ok,” Jen accepted it. “Thanks for sharing. You know Andie was crushing on Pacey pretty hard?”

“What? She was? I hope you told her no,”

Joey was immediately fuming.

“I didn’t have to. He’s always looking at you.”

************

Time moved quickly. Drunken nights, hours spent talking and sanding that damn boat Pacey rescued. Or studying. Pacey would do anything to be with her and if she studied, he studied. Dawson was big on group things, and drunken make outs had been kiboshed more than Joey liked and so they stepped up the boat refurb. It was finished after the B&B, adding two spaces to where they could be alone. She loved to be alone with him. To pretend they were friends, but cuddle up close, to have her hand slip, or her mouth, or his. Days spent sailing, alone or with friends, working at the B&B, doing some advanced classes. Little fingers entwined, the boat bed well utilised, the burn of an obligatory shot of rum easy to manage. It was harder to not have sex. It was harder to not walk down the street hand in hand. It was harder not to say words that kept getting caught in her throat after bubbling up from deep inside. It was hard to go to prom as friends and then dance all night and explain the fact that they were intimately entwined in the coat closet was down to rum and hormones. Dawson had to know. He just ignored it. Jack made jokes, Andie teased and Jen kept their secret, that wasn’t one. They just belittled the extent of things. 

Until Joey had enough. Enough of Dawson pretending not to see what was obvious - she and Pacey were absolutely in love. Had been for years. They were best friends and just crazy for each other. They were voted class couple even though they weren’t one, because they were, and Dawson called it ridiculous. He was ridiculous. And so at the grad party Dawson planned she found Pacey.

************

Present

As Dawson continues to glare at her tattoo, Joey closed her eyes for a second and her head was filled with memories of the night before. She hadn’t been drunk and neither had he. They’d been sat on Dawson’s dock, where she’d found him, taking a moment away from the graduation party and they’d got around to talking about regrets. Pacey had brought it up, though she’d been planning to. They’d ignored what was between them out of undue respect to Dawson. Ignored it for years and given respect to his ridiculous claim of soulmates. Oh there had been moments. There had been kisses, It just was. It was banter and it was friendship, it was love. It was prolonged hugs goodnight, it was watching movies wrapped around one another. It was drunken encounters when his hand would slip beneath the lace trim of her underwear and they could blame it on intoxication. It wasn’t alcohol. It was a pheromonic need. It was love. They would laugh off kisses as accidental, as a consequence of friendship, proximity and the damn pheromones. Hanging out, doing things - they were best friends so why wouldn’t they. Sometimes it felt like dates, sometimes they would be so close and they’d end up breathing in each other, her hands gripping his shirt, his floating on the skin at her waist until they’d find a shot to down or a beer to drink, so they could fall together entangled, his hands tugging at her clothes, hers scratching at his back, and they could blame it on alcohol.. 

Deferring to Dawson’s claims of ownership was dumb. She didn’t know why they were trying so hard to protect him when he clearly didn’t care how she felt or how he felt. Pacey felt the same.

“Biggest regret?” She’d asked, voice soft and he’d actually chuckled.

“Well, I hope it’s the same as yours,” he’d given her a look. 

“Well, you’d have to say it to find out,” she hedged, as his hand took hers.

“Joey. I’ve been in love with you since sophomore year. My biggest regret is that I can’t actually call you my girlfriend, that to be close we have to blame it on alcohol or something else, that I haven’t wanted anyone but you, but because we care about our friends we are best friends who occasionally, accidentally find ourselves kissing, or hugging….”

“Or naked in bed?” she finished with a small smile. He stared at her, eyes warm and wanting. 

“Yeah. I love it when that happens.”

“Even if we don’t have sex?” She asked with a tilt of her head, unassuming.

“I love everything about time with you because…”

“You love me,” she interrupted and he nodded. 

“What’s your biggest regret?” he asked and she reached out a hand to him. 

“Come with me,” she entwined their fingers and tugged him away from Dawson’s house and towards town. 

“I love a midnight walk, especially with you, but I’d prefer you answer the question.”

“You already said it better be the same as yours.”

“But I need you to say it,” he tugged her to a stop at the marina.

“But we’re here,” she gave him a look. He raised an eyebrow, his hands finding the skin at her waist.

“Ok, ok, what’s here?”

“Come,” she tugged him down the marina to the berth holding his boat. 

“My boat?” he clearly didn’t get it.

“Yes,” she tugged him inside. “Are you drunk?” She asked and he shook his head, fingers running over her skin before hooking into her belt loops of her skirt and tugging her closer. 

“Not at all.”

“Addled by pheromones?”

“Constantly,” he smirked. 

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

“I thought we’d covered that back in Dawson’s dock?” he smiled. 

“I mean we’re about to go to college…”

“The same college…”

“There’ll be girls, new and interesting…”

“Joey. I meet new and interesting girls all the time,” he said it reassuringly, but her eyes narrowed. 

“You do?” Arms crossing. 

“They may be new and interesting, but I’m not interested. They’re not you.”

“Really?” she felt her cheeks burn. 

“I’m shocked you even have to ask, I mean…”

“Pacey,” she interrupted one of his rants.

“Joey,” he mimicked her tone. She stared at him. Enough electricity to fuel a Kiss reunion didn’t cover it. They had argued, they’d laughed, they’d kissed and oh but those kisses sent her half crazy with longing. “Biggest regret?”

“Pacey?”

“Yes?”

“You want to be my boyfriend?”

“Is this rhetorical?” He frowned and she shook her head. “Yes,” he nodded emphatically.

“You want to fuck it all and have sex?” She arched a brow and watched a flush stain his cheeks. 

“Yes,” again with the no hesitation nod. “You’re not drunk?”

“Haven’t touched a drop,” she took a step closer and reached under the edge of his t-shirt so her hands landed on warm soft skin. 

“Addled by pheromones?”

“Very much so,” she grinned as she grabbed the edge of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head.

“But officially, no take backs, my girlfriend?” he sounded so sincerely pleased that she laughed, especially when he flushed, “I mean obviously you can dump me. I mean don’t dump me, but like if your feelings change and you don’t want to be with me, then you can, you know take it back, I’d never want you to…”

She shut him up with a kiss. It was always glorious to kiss Pacey, all the drunken mishaps, the accidental pheromonic accidents, they were different to this sanctioned kiss. This very deliberate, I’m yours and you’re mine, kiss. Pacey clearly felt the same way.

“Fuck Jo,” he cursed and pressed his body into hers, so her butt hit against the small cabin kitchen cabinets. 

“Hmmm,” she mumbled as she felt him hard against her. The thought of him being hers sent a thrill through her. This boy, this nearly man was hers. Had been hers without being hers. But now was officially hers and she wanted everything with him. She felt hedonistic, devil may care. Her fingers found the button on his shorts and she flicked it, eyes locked on his, loving how they fluttered shut as her fingers pressed against him. Then she tugged at his shirt, pulling it off and throwing it.

“Joey,” her name a lament. She smiled at the increased pressure from his fingers that were nudging her top up. With a small smile and a slightly challenging look she peeled her top off an flung it. Then because his eyes were so wide, she reached to the front clasp of her bra and pinched it, laughing out loud at the way his mouth dropped open and he stared. He’d seen her topless too many times to count and yet every time he looked at her like she blew him away. 

“All yours,” she gave a casual little shrug and Pacey lost it. She loved it when he lost it. His head swooped down and his warm mouth was around her nipple, his tongue swooping over it as his left slid up her side, thumb brushing the underside of her other boob. Then all at once he was lifting her up and backing them towards the rear of the boat and its small, but serviceable bed - one they’d become entangled on more than once in the last year, always deciding to head to the boat when tipsy for no reason they’d ever say out loud. 

She was tumbled onto the bed and he followed, his body pressing between her legs, hips thrusting against her, mouth and hands all over her exposed skin. She loved the feel of his bare skin against hers, the electric hum, the need to be entwined with this boy. Her hand fed between them and she found him hard and in her hand and she squeezed softly, a reminder of her suggestion that they have sex and then made a determined attempt to shove down his shorts. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, his mouth finding hers. 

“Take off your clothes, Pace,” she broke the kiss with fists curling in his hair. He looked so good and she wanted it so badly. He nodded and stood letting his shorts fall to the floor. She watched and stared at him in his boxers, then undid her skirt and shoved at it. “Take it off me,” she urged and watched him tug the skirt from her hips as she lifted her butt. His hands were shaking but he peeled it from her. 

“Jo…you’re sure?” He stared at her. 

“Biggest regret not making this official, not having the freedom to love you emotionally and physically. Because I do love you, Pace.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I’m your girlfriend, right?”

“Yeah,” he began to smile. “Mine,” he said the word and his body was over hers and he was kissing her, hands everywhere, before rolling to the side, large hand splayed on her stomach and then slipping into her underwear, where she was embarrassingly turned on. “You’re so wet,” he groaned into the kiss, his hips thrusting into her side. “I want you so fucking much,” he had a finger hover against her as his thumb rubbed tantalizing circles against her clit. 

“Do it please,” she moaned and then slid her hand into her underwear on top of his and pushing his finger inside of her. They swore together. Her eyes fluttered shut and she didn’t care that she was being stupid amounts of loud because fuck. But then she did and she gripped at his hand, “no.”

He stopped at once. 

“I’m sorry,” he was wide eyed.

“I want to come with you inside of me,” she clarified and he chuckled, that sexy chuckle that made everything throb. 

“You can come more than once,” he teased.

“I plan to,” she assured him and pushed at his boxers, fingers brushing against him with purpose. “Get a condom. Get three. Please,” she practically begged. Pacey looked like he might pass out but then he was up from the bed and rummaging in a box and heading back to her. “Stop,” she leaned up on her elbows, “no underwear allowed,” she smirked at the speed with which his boxers were dispensed and she was staring at him in all his naked glory. Oh she’d kissed him and touched him, seen him naked, but she’d never seen him like this - with the thought that he’d be pushing into her. “Fuck! I meant to ask again if it fit?”

“Yes,” he promised more confidently than the first time she asked, lying on the bed and lifting the edge of her underwear. “Breaking your own rule here, Jo,” he teased and she peeled them off. 

“Here,” she tugged him onto her, both groaning loudly at the naked press of their bodies together. “That feels so good,” she found her hips rise against him, and his thrust against her. “Ohhhh,” she squeezed her eyes shut. “Again,” she begged and he did it again. Her eyes opened and she looked at him wide eyed. 

“You’re really a virgin?” She asked with a smile and he chuckled. 

“I’ve wanted you my whole damn life. Who was I gonna sleep with?” His hips moved and she cried out as every part of her tensed and then released in waves of euphoria. 

“Fuck…I wanted to come with you inside me,” she pouted. 

“I’ll do my best,” he grinned. 

“I’m on the pill,” she shifted her hips and he slid closer to where she wanted. “I’ve never slept with anyone.”

“What are you saying?” He pressed close and she moaned.

“Please Pace, just do it, I’m so ready. You’re ready? You want this?” She spoke rapidly but the pounding between her legs needed him. 

“I want this so much. You have no idea,” he growled and shifted so she could feel the pressure of him right at the apex of her thighs. 

“Please,” she knew she was begging but she felt desperate and his hips thrust forward and he was inside of her in one sharp move.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, you saying that in that voice and…” 

“Do it again,” was all she said because the pounding was still there and she wanted more. “It didn’t hurt. It just feels….it feels good, Pace.”

“Yeah?”

“Pacey,” she squeezed his buttocks and his lips found hers and she thanked the lord that he began to move and that somehow, due to pheromones or love, it felt like she was going to explode and that it was going to be everything when she did. “Fuck,” she found her hips rising to meet his, until everything became centred on where they were connected and she couldn’t kiss, couldn’t do anything other than claw at his back until her whole body seemed to clench around him, before the glorious feeling washed through her in waves. Pacey thrust erratically and then his teeth bit at her shoulder and she came again as he spilled inside of her. Whatever they did together, Pacey spent the time how to learning her, to make it the best it could be and he was really fucking amazing at her body.

“I love you,” he pressed his lips to hers, then to her forehead, her cheeks, before burying his face in the warmth of her neck. 

“Don’t move. Oh my god, but I love you inside of me. I love you. Really, truly I do. so much.”

“I’m going to want you forever you know?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, their bodies still connected, so when he moved to the side she turned with him, unwilling to relinquish the connection. 

“Really,” she made a face. “You’re that sure?”

“You’re not?” He asked with faux gravitas.

“I’m damn sure.”

“I’d marry you,” he shrugged easily.

“We’ve been dating less than an hour,” she giggled.

“We haven’t,” he shook his head. “We’ve been denying we’re dating for over three years.”

“Accurate,” she pressed a kiss to his chest.

“I want you to be my baby momma. No one else would ever be right.”

“Baby momma?” She scoffed.

“Maybe you’re not into marriage,” he shrugged, hand trailing over her chest.

“So no sleeping with anyone else?”

“Why would I?”

“Marriage, really?”

“Whenever you’re ready?”

“Kids?”

“After college darlin’,” he grinned cheekily at her. 

“You’ll hold my hair when I puke?” She narrowed her eyes and he rolled his.

“Done it may times.”

“You’ll kiss me before I brush my teeth?”

“Before, after, during,” he smirked and Joey's eyes fluttered shut as she felt him become hard inside of her. 

“Ummm you’ll pick me up after work?”

“You mean continue to?” He pressed his lips to the pulse point on her neck that drove her crazy, as his hips moved and it felt exquisite. “Like this is ok?” he asked and she answered with a moan so loud it surprised her. 

“Yes,” she pressed her hands to his chest, his shoulders, then down his back to his firm butt. 

“Any other questions?” He gave her a mischievous look so she rolled her hips and he groaned.

“Matching tattoos?”

“Let’s go tomorrow,” he growled and flipped so she was on top. “Do the thing with your hips again,” he grunted and she did, her body exploding at once. She laughed and then he did too.

“That was so fast,” she marveled. 

“Do it again,” he begged and she kissed him before raising her chest from his and doing it again and again, watching his eyes fixate on hers, then drop to her chest and then to where they were joined.

“Fuck Jo,” he gripped at her hips. “I’m not good at this,” his hips raised to meet hers. 

“My three orgasms so far says you’re amazing,” she moaned feeling oh so close.

“Jo I’m gonna come,” his hands clung to her.

“Me too,” she swirled her hips and rocked and his hips lost coordination as he pulled her to him for a rough kiss. Joey didn’t care because it was enough and she loved the feel of him falling over the edge inside of her as she came hard. 

“We’re idiots,” Pacey clung to her. 

“Total idiots. This is so good.”

“Good?” He nipped at the skin of her neck and her hips rocked. 

“Did I say good? I meant mind blowing, earth shattering…” she laughed and rolled off of him, hating the connection breaking but loving him pulling her naked body close into his. 

“We’re going to be those people,” he shook his head slightly. 

“Those people?” She kissed his chest, arm wrapped around him, leg thrown over his. 

“That just have sex all the time,” he grinned and she laughed. 

“Oh we so definitely are,” she agreed and they lay together, each pressing intermittent kisses to the other.

“Are we telling Dawson?” he asked softly.

“Pace, that’s the point of being official. I want to tell the world you're mine.”

“Get behind me, I’ve waited my whole life for this.”

“Dawson is going to be pissed, he keeps waxing lyrical about the end of school being about the start of a new era for us. As friends and he keeps suggesting that maybe there’s no reason for us to not be together anymore.”

“Only Dawson can make three weeks of dating at fifteen be a life long commitment,” Pacey scowled. 

“And you and I have been so much closer ever since…”

“Ever since Snailgate.”

“Exactly,” Joey wanted to kiss him again, her hand sliding down his body to find him hard. “Hmmmm,” she moaned into the kiss as he rolled into her. 

******

“Hey!”  a heavy arm grabbed her from behind, Pacey's tall frame sidling between her and Dawson.

“Beautiful day isn’t is?” He beamed at them both and Joey felt her skin flush. “I don’t know but the air smells cleaner, the sun is just right and I am feeling good!”

“Good, huh?” She turned her head so her eyes caught stormy blue. 

“So very very good,” his lips curled up and her body wanted to turn into his. She thought for a moment he may throw caution to the wind and kiss her. His eyes were locked on hers and kept dropping to her lips.

“Joey got a tattoo,” Dawson was apparently looking for backup, but something caught his eyes.

“I know, I was with her,” Pacey grinned, as Dawson snatched up his hand and stared at the fine black line on Pacey’s little finger. 

“Am I missing something here?” Dawson took a step away and stared at them. “You have the same tattoo?” He stared at them both. 

“That’s why we asked to meet today. We wanted to tell you we’re together,” Joey said, deciding simple was best.

“And you thought you’d do it with matching tattoos?” Dawson scoffed.

“Well…we did think us getting voted as class couple even though we weren’t together, might alert you to what we’ve denied ourselves for so long…we really, really like each other,” Pacey slid his hand into Joey’s.

“If you’ve been lying to me our friendship is…”

“Is what? Over?” Joey arched her brows. “Because I don’t understand why friendship allows you to continue to dictate who I can and can’t date. We haven’t dated out of respect to you, but we’ve obviously wanted to. I mean we’re constantly having accidental intimacy.”

“You said it was alcohol and hormones.”

“And friendship and love.”

“So you’ve been lying to me?” Dawson fumed.

“And ourselves,” Pacey admitted.

“For how long?” Dawson was pacing, hands opening and closing.

“Since the snails,” Pacey admitted sheepishly.

“So you think you’re in love with my soulmate….”

“Dawson,” Joey interrupted calmly. “It’s lovely you consider me a soulmate. Truly. I’m not sure why, but we’ve spent years ignoring this between us because of that. We don’t want to anymore. We’re not wrong to love each other. You’re not wrong to see me as your soulmate. It’s wrong to let that dictate my life when you’re not mine.”

“So when did you get together?” He looked between them. Joey looked at Pacey, flushing at the memories. 

“Last night,” she squeezed his hand. 

“Your pinkie promise,” Dawson looked like he might throw up. 

“Sorry man, but I’m not sorry. I am thrilled this beautiful woman is my girlfriend.”

“Did you really have to get matching tattoos?” He scoffed. 

“Yeah we kinda did,” Joey laughed softly fingers brushing over the skin of his hand. “We did you a disservice Dawson and I’m sorry. I should have told you how I was feeling in sophomore year. I should have given you the credit to get over it. We should have done the same junior year. Maybe with time you be would have been ok with it. We value you - a huge amount. That’s why we’ve denied this, why we respected your feelings above ours, and we  should have considered that maybe you value us too and while this would hurt, you wouldn’t want to lose us. I’m sorry we didn’t credit you with the ability to accept this.”

“I just can’t believe you got tattoos.”

“I offered her marriage and kids, but she asked for matching tattoos,” Pacey wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. 

“I guess I don’t need you to tell me the meaning any more,” Dawson rolled his eyes. 

“Nope.”

“Well… I guess I hope last night was everything you wanted,” he mumbled awkwardly.

“It was,” Joey looked at Pacey, wanting a repeat. Her gave her a knowing look. 

“I can see that,” Dawson murmured somewhat awkwardly. “I’ll see you guys later. Go… be together!”

“Intend to,” Pacey laughed and steered them determinedly to his boat. “I love you beautiful girlfriend.”

“That went well. Thanks to you. I love you Pace. No more pretending.”

“Are you kidding? Definitely no more. You’re stuck with me,” and he hooked his little finger with hers. 

“Good.”

“Forever,” he told her with a soft look.

“Even better.”