Chapter Text
“You know what we should do?” Patches chirped, staring out the kitchen window as his partner shuffled in sleepily, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Go back to bed?” Simon grumbled, shading his eyes with his hand as the light from the window reflected off the white marble countertops, seemingly from every direction.
“Nope!” said Patches. “It's been a long week, we've both been shut in doing work, and now it's such a sunny day! Let’s go to the park!”
Simon blinked at him uncomprehendingly. “What.”
“We should go for a walk around the park down the street! You remember, we had a quick look around it when we were deciding on the house, we both thought it looked quite charming.”
Simon dragged a hand down his face. “Yes, yes, I am aware, Patches. However, are you aware that it is only seven in the morning?”
“We’re both already awake,” Patches pointed out cheerfully. “Nothing wrong with an early start!”
“I only got up because I noticed you were gone and wanted to check you were okay,” Simon countered, one eyebrow raised, unimpressed.
“Well then, your thoughtfulness has led to a happy coincidence!” Patches returned without missing a beat.
“…Is Kisegawa not present to talk you out of such folly?” Simon asked exasperatedly. The courtesan generally shared Simon’s view that the best way to get the most out of your morning was to sleep through it.
“Nope!” Patches replied, popping the ‘p’. “Just me today! Lucky you, a day with the jester all to yourself! And I know just how we can spend it!”
Simon groaned.
“C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Patches bounced up and down on the balls of his feet, smiling widely. “Some fun in the sun! A lark in the park! A droll stroll! A…”
“Ok, ok, I’ll come,” Simon surrendered. He could never really say no to that smile.
“Yay!” Patches cheered. He spun around on one foot in a clumsy pirouette and tossed a handful of colourful confetti into the air.
The pieces fluttered down around him prettily, and Patches paused, his hands still raised in celebration, and watched as they settled on the rug.
Simon sighed. “You’re going to have to pick that all up now.”
“Yeah,” said Patches sheepishly, dropping to his knees, “Didn’t think that one through.”
Simon laughed loudly as the performer scrabbled around picking up the flecks of tissue paper, and crouched down to assist him.
…
It took them a while, but eventually the pair made it out the door and down the road to the park. It was a nice one, with lots of trees and large, stretching garden beds, a big pond in the centre and winding paths to walk around.
“Ooh, ooh!” said Patches, pointing out a large plant with vibrant orange flowers. “That’s so pretty! We should get one like that for our garden!”
Simon raised an eyebrow.
“You’ve said that about the last seven plants we’ve seen,” he reminded him. “I fear you are under delusions regarding the size of our courtyard.”
Nonetheless, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the flower to identify later as Patches continued on up the path. Simon lengthened his stride to catch up with the jester and took his small hand in his own. Patches beamed up at him with that sunny smile of his that always made Simon’s heart leap.
They made slow progress, as Patches examined various flowers and insisted they stop to pet every dog they passed, by Simon could hardly claim he minded. He himself often slowed down to appreciate the birds he spotted in the trees.
“A rather large fellow ahead,” he said, nudging his partner as a Saint Bernard and its owner rounded the corner and approached them.
“Awwww!” Patches gasped when he spotted it.
He leant down as the dog approached and offered it his hand to sniff.
“You have a lovely dog!” he said happily to the owner, a thin young man who probably weighed less than his pet.
The dog licked Patches’ hand enthusiastically, and he started scratching its ears. The dog’s tail wagged happily.
“Thank you,” the man said shyly.
Without warning, the dog reared up on its hind legs and placed two heavy paws on Patches’ shoulders. The performer, taken by surprise and off balance, fell backwards, the dog landing on top of him.
“Oh no!” cried the owner. “Bad dog! No! Get off him!”
The dog settled itself comfortably on top of Patches and dropped his massive head heavily onto the performer’s chest.
“Oof!” said Patches. “Easy there! Good girl… boy? Whatever you are. Good dog. Let’s just… hgggn…” With considerable effort, he sat up slightly and tried to struggle out from under the dead weight, but was unsuccessful. The dog’s tail continued to wag contentedly. Patches collapsed back down into the dust.
By this stage, Simon was doubled over laughing. The young man holding the leash tugged on it with all his strength, his face growing redder and redder and he babbled a stream of apologies to Patches and scolded the dog, but the Saint Bernard didn’t even seem to notice him.
“I’m so sorry sir! Millie, get off him! Bad dog!”
Simon’s ringing laughter was catching, and Patches started giggling helplessly. The dog’s tail wagged even faster, and she surged forward to lick his face.
Finally taking pity on his partner and the poor panicked dog owner, Simon strode over and wrapped his arms around the big dog’s middle and rolled her off Patches. The dog barked excitedly and flopped onto her back, hoping for a chest rub. Simon obliged as Patches got to his feet.
Waving off the young man’s apologies, the two linked arms and continued on their way.
“How lucky I am to have such a big, strong boyfriend to help me out of trouble,” Patched giggled, clutching Simon’s bicep.
“Indeed,” said Simon, his lips twitching despite his attempt to stay deadpan. “Where would you be without me?”
“Although,” Patches said, pouting and elbowing Simon lightly in the side, “I do think you could have come to my rescue a bit sooner, rather than standing there laughing for five minutes first. In fact,” he said thoughtfully, “I think I’m owed an ice cream. To make up for you making fun of my ordeal.”
Simon snorted loudly, but led the way to the kiosk anyway.
They found a park bench by the pond and sat together in companionable silence as they ate. The sun was warm on their faces, and there were ducks on the water. Simon watched them with a smile on his face and sighed contentedly.
“Hey Simon?”
“Yes, Patches?”
“We should get a Saint Bern-”
“No.”