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When all of the acts and guests leave for the night and the microphone is moved to the back of the store, Patrick invites David back to his place.
The night air is warm against his skin, but David is warmer, swinging their hands between them and smiling to himself as they walk in silence toward Ray’s house. There’s a flush across his cheeks, a mixture of alcohol and the night’s events, and Patrick can’t stop looking, taking in every minute change in his expression.
He feels invincible tonight, high on David’s radiant smile and drunk on his applause. Knowing that he caused it, that he evoked that reaction from him, is enough to keep him awake for days, to fuel every cell in his body.
He never felt like this with Rachel on their best days, never felt so invested in earning something as simple as a smile, and certainly never thought to expect it in return. But now his days are filled with sore cheeks and bright eyes, and he never wants it to end, never wants to stop laughing at David’s wide gestures and faux grumpiness.
He doesn’t want anyone else.
He thinks it as they slide into bed, as he shuts off the light, as David throws his leg over his waist and curls up against his back.
He’s nearly falls asleep with it on the tip of his tongue, taste buds tingling with sweetness, when David’s soft, sleepy voice sounds behind him, barely audible.
“Patrick?” he says, hesitantly, like he’s unsure whether or not he wants him to answer.
“Hmmm?” Patrick leans back into the warm body behind him.
“Stay.”
Patrick takes in a deep breath, letting the world roll around his brain for a moment. It could be taken in many different ways, each of them holding a different weight.
“This is my bed,” he jokes halfheartedly, knowing David sometimes has trouble being vulnerable head-on, but he adds softly, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“No, I mean-”
“I know.”
They’re silent for a while, syncing their breaths so their chests rise together, both hearts beating close. Patrick wishes he had the words, wishes he could even come close to conveying how in he is, how deep he’s fallen, how impossible it is for him to even fathom leaving.
He wishes David knew how loved he is.
“Just...” David whispers brokenly, a ragged breath brushing against the back of Patrick’s neck, “come here.”
He pulls Patrick closer, arm wrapping around his chest and face pressing into his shoulder. Patrick closes his eyes, trying to tamp down the emotion that overwhelms him.
He loves this man so much it nearly hurts.
“I’m here,” Patrick replies, reaching back to run his fingers through David’s hair, twirling the soft strands slowly. He waits until he feels David’s breaths even out and his grip loosens to say, “Always.”