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2019-10-20
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Dodgeball is f*cking stupid

Summary:

David is leaving his art history class when he gets a text from Patrick cancelling their lunch date, again. This is the third time this week and David is reaching for his last bit of patience.

He isn’t annoyed that his boyfriend is cancelling on him, he's annoyed at why his boyfriend is cancelling on him.

He cancelled because of fucking dodgeball.

-

A college AU about dodgeball I didn't mean to write.

Notes:

Yes I wrote a fic about dodgeball. I wanted to write something about Patrick's competitiveness and dodgeball is the sport I chose. Don't @ me.

I'm currently working on a full length and I just needed to write something other than that for a little bit. This is sloppy and unpolished and un-beta-ed, but I do love it.

(See the end of the work for more notes and other works inspired by this one.)

Work Text:

David is leaving his art history class when he gets a text from Patrick cancelling their lunch date, again. This is the third time this week and David is reaching for the very last bit of his patience.

But he isn’t annoyed that his boyfriend is cancelling on him, he's annoyed at why his boyfriend is cancelling on him.

He's canceling because of fucking dodgeball.

It all started two months ago when the semester first began, David and Patrick canoodling in the quad in between classes when one of Patrick’s former baseball team members approached them.

“Brewer,” what’s-his-name says, interrupting David from nuzzling his nose into Patrick’s ear.

“Hey Matt, what’s up,” Patrick asks rubbing David’s back. David hums and leans into the touch, his annoyance dissipating a little bit.

“The guys and I were talking, and we want to schedule a dodgeball league this semester.”

“Dodgeball?” Patrick asks perking up.

“Yeah, there’s an opening to use the gymnasium this semester and a bunch of us thought it might be fun to organize something, since baseball doesn’t start until the spring.”

“Sounds fun,” Patrick replies. “I’m in.”

“Great! I’ll text you the details. We’re still deciding team captains, you interested?”

Patrick straightens up immediately, dislodging David from his side much to his annoyance.

“Definitely,” Patrick says, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“Awesome, we’ll figure out the details the next meeting. Talk to you later Brewer.” Mark waves his goodbye, finally leaving David and Patrick to be by themselves. David is leaning forward to catch Patrick’s lips in his to resume their activities when Patrick abruptly stands up and begins pacing, causing David to lean forward too much and almost crash face first into the seat of the bench they were sitting on.

“Dodgeball? I haven’t played that in so long! Not since middle school, I think. This is going to be fun, I wonder who the other team captains are going to be.”

David huffs and crosses his arms, tapping his foot against the pavement.

“I don’t want to interrupt whatever this is," David says sweeping the air with his hands. "But I only have ten more minutes before my psych lecture and I was really looking forward to spending some time with my boyfriend.”

Patrick finally looks at David, his eyes lit up from excitement, and David feels himself soften. Nothing makes David weaker than seeing Patrick happy.

“Sorry, David. I guess I’ve just been missing doing some kind of sport,” Patrick replies sheepishly.

Patrick had decided to put a hold on doing sports during his last year of college, wanting to focus on his growing list of classes. David knew how much it meant to him to be on a team, missing the camaraderie and hard work.

David smiles softly at him and reaches his hand out for Patrick who immediately takes it. David pulls Patrick back down onto the bench, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“This will be fun for you,” David says reassuringly. “Can I get my kisses now?”

Patrick laughs, wrapping his hand around David’s neck and pulling him in, falling together.

That was two months ago and David was very supportive of Patrick’s sports ball thing. Until it began to interfere with everything.

It began slowly, meetings running a little long here and there, late nights, cancelled dates. Nothing David couldn’t handle.

But then he began waking up by himself in the mornings more often than not the last couple of weeks. David had his own apartment in the middle of town, but chose to sleep with Patrick in his dorm room due to an early morning lecture. And by early morning, he meant 10:30am, but David has a very intense skin care routine that requires a lot of time and it was just easier to stay with Patrick. Sure two grown men sharing a tiny twin bed wasn’t ideal, but it meant molding his body tightly against Patrick’s every night and that by itself made it worth it.

They would fall asleep, entangled together, David nuzzling his head into Patrick’s chest. And in the morning, Patrick would wake David up with lazy kisses, a hand raking through his hair.

It was the best way to wake up. But lately he had to resort to listening to his alarm blaring every morning instead and David was not okay with that.

Sometimes he will wake up in the middle of the night to check that Patrick made it home, always finding him curled up against his side with his arm around David's waist. He'll stay up, brushing his fingers through Patrick's hair, wanting to take a moment to be with his boyfriend, just the two of them, no classes, no sports, just them. And when David wakes up in the morning, Patrick will be gone. He doesn't want to nag Patrick about not having enough time with him. But it's so hard

David shoves his phone into his pocket and storms through the hallway, cursing kickball in his head, deciding to gorge on ice cream in the dining hall to make himself feel better.

It helps a little bit.


 

“Patrick, we’re getting drinks tonight, come with us,” Matt says clapping a hand on his shoulder.

“I should be getting back to my room,” Patrick replies regretfully, slinging his bag on his shoulder. “This dodgeball tournament has been taking up a lot of my time and I have some work I need to get done.”

“Aw, come on Patrick! Just one drink! It’s on me!” Todd says from behind him.

“Yeah, we need to celebrate. One more win against the volleyball team and we get to move on to the next stage!”

The dodgeball tournament, which started off as a small thing ended up exploding within a week of its conception. Now every sports team at the college participated, the tournament expanding past just some bored baseball players. Patrick’s own team consisted of various members of the baseball and softball team. Patrick took on the role of co-captain with Matt, leading them to multiple victories in the last couple of weeks. It was supposed to be a low commitment thing, just something that pass the time in between classes. But then the hockey team entered the tournament and they were ruthless, using dirty tactics to win and really pushing the boundaries with the unsportsmanlike behavior. Patrick felt an obligation to take them down a peg or two.

Patrick tried his best to make sure school and his relationship were his top priorities and felt like he’s been doing a great job so far. He hasn’t fallen behind on his work and David has been the model boyfriend, supporting him through all of this even though he doesn't understand a lick of it.

David.

Patrick feels something light inside of him at the mere thought of his boyfriend.

“David’s probably waiting for me. I should head in early,” Patrick says, but his team cuts him off with their boos.

“I’m sure David will be fine with you getting one drink with the team,” Todd says slinging an arm around Patrick’s shoulders.

Patrick bites his lip before relenting. “Okay, but just one drink.”

Everyone whoops and hollers and before he knows it, he’s being pulled out of the gym by his teammates, promising himself he was going to stay for just one drink before heading home to David.

David will understand.


 

David is sitting up on Patrick’s bed writing his paper on his laptop when his boyfriend finally stumbles in. It is well past midnight, David choosing to stay up and wait for his wayward boyfriend. 

The ice cream was a good distraction for about an hour before the annoyance began to kick up again. Especially when Patrick texted him saying he would be coming in late to go get drinks with his teammates.

It’s all about team building, babe, blah blah blah.

David didn’t want to be annoyed. Patrick deserves to go out with his friends and get drunk. He works so hard all the time, always studying diligently for his exams or spending his time with David.

But given everything that’s been happening lately, David can’t stop himself from being a little bitter.

Patrick, as gracefully as he could when drunk, enters the room, tripping over himself a little. After catching himself, Patrick stands up straight and sees David’s blank stare.

Babe!” Patrick says before launching his body towards the bed. David just barely sets his laptop aside before his arms are full of Patrick Brewer.

Patrick wraps his arms tightly around David’s middle, nuzzling his head into his stomach, purring lightly. “David, David, David. My David.”

David presses his lips together tightly, trying to keep the smile that was threatening to spread down. “Someone had fun.”

“Drunk. I drunk,” Patrick slurs. “Beer tasty.”

“Mm, yes, beer is tasty,” David replies smiling.

“Mm missed you,” Patrick murmurs.

David cards his fingers through Patrick’s hair, feeling himself get a little emotional.

“Miss you too,” David replies softly. I miss you a lot, he thinks to himself. They stay together in that position for a good ten minutes before Patrick let out an aggressive snore, David tilting his head back towards the ceiling with his eyes closed.

With some prodding and tugging, David is able to get Patrick on the bed, his limbs spread out like a starfish in just his underwear. He puts his clothes into the hamper, his shoes underneath his bed, and Patrick’s phone, which is very dead, plugged into the charger on his desk.

David takes a moment to look at Patrick, sleeping deeply and knowing Patrick will probably need the whole bed to himself tonight to toss and turn in his drunken stupor.

David crouches down and gently touches Patrick’s cheek, rubbing his thumb across his eyebrow before standing back up and packing up his things. For the first time in weeks, David will be sleeping by himself tonight. He’s not looking forward to it.

With one more parting glance behind him, David gently closes Patrick’s door and begins his journey to his apartment alone.


 

Patrick Brewer is a simple man. He enjoys tea, sports, and waking up in the morning in the arms of his very attractive boyfriend. Even in his hazy daze, the mere thought of David brings a smile to Patrick’s face, his arms automatically tightening around his body and smushing his nose into the crook of David’s neck.

Only his nose isn’t pressed into David’s neck. Instead he comes in contact with his pillow and Patrick realizes he is very alone in bed. His head snaps up and a groan immediately leave his lips as he feels the beginning of a headache forming.

He blinks against the bright sun streaming through the windows, his head pounding painfully against his skull.

He shakes his head to clear his eyesight and looks around his tiny dorm room for David.

Maybe he’s in the bathroom?

But Patrick doesn’t see David’s bag, or his shoes, or his clothes that are usually draped along the back of his desk chair. He looks down and sees that he’s just in his boxers and undershirt, and a quick scan along the room shows that the clothes he wore yesterday are in the laundry hamper already, his shoes neatly tucked underneath his bed.

Patrick rubs his hand against his face, his head still hurting, but more importantly feeling very confused as to why David isn’t here with him. Patrick can’t remember the last time he woke up alone.

He looks for his phone, finding it sitting on top of his desk, plugged in to his charger. The time reads 9:37am making Patrick even more confused. For a moment he thought that maybe David went to class, but Patrick knows David doesn’t have his next lecture until noon.

Patrick texts David, asking where he is, expecting to receive an answer soon. Well, not that soon. David is rarely awake before 10am. So Patrick heaves his body up from the bed, tugs some sweatpants on and pads to the communal bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and getting ready for the day.

He’s back in his room by 10:12, and reaches for his phone to answer David’s text. But there’s nothing on his phone. Patrick furrows his eyebrows, worry creeping up his body.

Where’s David?

He hastily begins to put his clothes on, shoving his phone into his pocket and slipping on his sneakers.

He walks quickly out of his dorm room, into the dining hall. David likes waffles in the morning. But he isn’t by the waffle station. Nor the coffee station. Nor the ice cream station.

He takes his phone back out and calls David instead, waiting to hear David’s voice. But he gets his voicemail instead. Patrick curses softly to himself and begins to look around, hoping by some miracle David will just appear in front of him.

But he doesn’t and Patrick moves his feet forward, knowing that if David isn’t in class, in his dorm room, or the dining hall, he’s at their spot. Their spot is a bench underneath a grand oak tree in the quad, off to the side, surrounded by bushes.

They met there, their sophomore year, each claiming they were there first. David had argued that it was the optimal spot for him to write in his journal because it had the sightline of the entire campus while keeping him secluded, and Patrick had argued that he liked to sit here to study underneath the shade of the tree. After bickering back and forth for 5 minutes, they both agreed to share the bench, working quietly together. But every now and then Patrick would raise his head to sneak glances at David, taking in his dark eyebrows and his lips caught in between his teeth. Then when David raised his head and their eyes met, David grinned at him, his lips pressed together tightly with one side quirked up and Patrick fell that day. They were together a month after that, sharing their first kiss underneath the large branches.

Patrick jogs through the quad, his heart hammering against his chest, his eyes scanning for David. When he gets closer to their spot, Patrick sees David sitting there, his head in a book, his headphones over his ears.

Patrick lets out a sigh of relief and picks up the pace, his hands itching to touch David.

“David,” he calls out and David’s head snaps up. He smiles up at Patrick and he feels relief spread through his body.

“You’re awake,” David says putting his book down and pulling his headphones off.

“I’ve been awake for a while. I’ve been looking for you. Why didn’t you pick up your phone?” Patrick asks sitting down next to him.

“Oh,” David says surprised, reaching for his phone. “Sorry, it was on silent.” David leans in and kisses Patrick sweetly. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Patrick murmurs in between their lips. “You’re up early.”

“I had some work to do, I figured I try to get most of it done today.”

Patrick takes David’s hand in his and plays with the silver rings on David’s fingers. “Why didn’t you stay over last night?”

“Oh, well,” David says clearing his throat. “I thought I should just let you have to bed all to yourself since you were a little…”

“Drunk?”

“Sloshed, I would say you were properly sloshed last night.”

Patrick grimaces slightly. “Yeah, sorry. I didn’t mean to get so drunk last night. But Todd kept buying everyone beers and it’s important for-”

“Team building,” David finishes for him. “So you’ve said.”

David looks down and Patrick blinks at him with worry. “David?”

“We should get lunch today,” David says quickly, a smile on his lips easing Patrick just a little bit.

“Lunch sounds great,” Patrick begins to say before his mind remembers his schedule for the day. “Shoot, sorry I forgot I have a meeting with the team today at 1.”

Patrick watches David’s face drop for a second before he’s grinning again at Patrick, and Patrick feels his stomach twist with worry.

“Okay, that’s fine. Maybe dinner?”

Patrick has practice tonight, knowing he’ll be cutting it close. But he can’t bring himself to see the look he just saw on David’s face again and nods, curling his hand around David’s neck.

“Dinner it is,” he says before crashing their lips together, feeling the butterflies in his tummy every time he kisses David. But mixed in with the butterflies are an unknown sense of dread that he doesn’t know where to place.

It’s fine, everything is fine.


 

Patrick is packing up his gym bag when Matt appears by his side.

“Patrick,” Matt says. “We have a bit of an issue.”

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asks standing up straight.

“The lacrosse lost their match to hockey. We’re up against them for the semi-finals tomorrow.”

“Fuck,” Patrick mutters frustratedly. He was so hoping that the lacrosse team would knock the hockey team out of the tournament.

“Also, according to the women’s basketball team captain, there are some rumors about foul play. I think we need to have a meeting with all the other team captains. They’re up to something.”

Patrick nods his head grimly, picking up his gym bag. “Yeah, I think something has to be done.”

Together they leave the outdoor field, talking about dodgeball, Patrick’s mind occupied by dodgeball.

David will understand.


 

David liked to cook. But David loved to cook for Patrick especially. Because no matter what he put in front of him, Patrick always told him it was the best thing he ever ate.

David didn’t mind feeling like Ina Garten sometimes.

He went to the grocery store right after class and picked up a couple of expensive steaks, knowing Patrick would appreciate the boost of protein after practice. He made mashed potatoes, roasted squash, and grabbed one of Patrick’s favorite bottles of red wine from his top shelf.

This was going to be their first real date in a very long time and David wanted it to be special. He wanted Patrick to know he loved him and supported him, even though the sport he was currently rehearsing for was stupid.

But Patrick didn’t have to know about David’s negative opinion about kickball.

David pours himself a glass of wine and settles onto the couch, turning on an episode of Downton Abbey while waiting for Patrick to come.

By the time he finishes his third episode, David knows Patrick isn’t coming.

He lays on the couch, wine bottle empty on the coffee table as he takes steady breaths through his nose.

Patrick loves me. Patrick loves me. Patrick loves me. Kickball is fucking stupid.

He feels himself dozing off when he hears keys jingling outside of his door. He lifts his head up slightly to see Patrick coming in. He drops his head back down and tiredly says, “You’re late.”

“I know, I’m so sorry baby,” Patrick says quickly, coming to kneel beside David’s head, running his fingers through his hair.

David, feeling a little tipsy, closes his eyes and hums.

“I cooked for you,” David says. “It’s cold now.”

Patrick sighs deeply, closing his eyes. “I’m so sorry, David. We had an emergency meeting-”

“Emergency meeting,” David repeats deadpanned, his eyes snapping open.

“Yeah, we needed to talk about the hockey team-”

“You were late because you had an emergency meeting about kickball.”

Patrick blinks at David confused. “You mean dodgeball?”

David squeezes his eyes shut and sits up, the world spinning around him.

“Okay,” David says quietly standing up. “Okay.”

He makes his way to the table, picking up the plates full of food and wrapping them up for later.

“David?” Patrick asks from his spot on the floor. “David, I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine Patrick,” David mumbles, putting the food in the fridge. “We can eat what I made tomorrow. Or maybe the next day, whenever you have time.”

“David, babe, stop for a minute,” Patrick says reaching for David, but David takes a step back. He sees the hurt on Patrick’s face and feels his gut twisting. But that doesn’t make him forget about the hurt he’s been feeling for the past few weeks.

“I think, I think we just need to go to bed,” David says quietly, twisting the rings on his fingers.

Patrick sighs defeated, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah, yeah I think we’re both just tired. Let me just get dressed-”

“Alone,” David interrupts.

Patrick stops moving immediately, frozen in his place. “What?”

David swallows thickly and looks down at the floor. “I think we need to sleep alone.”

The silence is deafening between them, David unable to look up.

“David, we haven’t slept alone in months-”

“I’ve been sleeping alone,” David replies forcing his head up and looking Patrick in the eyes.

Patrick blinks at him in shock. “What?”

“I’ve been sleeping alone and waking up by myself for the past three weeks.”

“We sleep together every night, I can’t help that the morning is one of the only times we have to use to gymnasium for practice.”

“You slept alone last night.”

“Yeah, because you left me”-

“Because you were drunk.”

Patrick huffs out frustratedly, crossing his arms defensively. “So I went out with my friends for a few drinks, when has that every bothered you?”

“It didn’t. But then you started cancelling on me, changing plans, and not telling me.”

Patrick squeezes his eyes shut and pinches his fingers in between his eyebrows.

“David, I’m sorry, but I have a commitment to them, I can’t let my team down-”

“But you can let me down.”

Patrick stares at David in shock, David feeling defeated and tired.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Patrick says. “I’m sorry-”

David shakes his head. “I know you’re sorry, Patrick.”

“Then what, David? What am I supposed to say to make this better?” Patrick asks desperately.

David shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

David sees something break inside of Patrick’s eyes, feeling himself crumble too.

“Okay,” Patrick whispers. “Okay.”

He moves to pick up his bag by the door, his hand on the doorknob.

“Can I call you tomorrow?” Patrick asks, fear laced in his voice.

David nods, not trusting his voice.

“I love you,” Patrick says quietly.

David turns away and begins to fuss around the kitchen again, trying to distract himself from the tears pooling in his eyes. When he hears the door close quietly, David sits heavily in the chair, cradling his head in his hands.

Patrick loves me. Patrick loves me. Patrick loves me. Dodgeball is fucking stupid.


 

David is studying in the library the next day when he overhears something very interesting.

“Yeah, the lacrosse team agreed to lose on purpose as long as they gave them some of the winnings.”

“Who knew dodgeball could be such a cash cow?”

David, who had his headphones on but with no music playing, feels his ears perk up. He woke up this morning feeling especially disdainful towards kickball or sports ball or what-ever-the-fuck, blaming it for the demise of his relationship. He also woke up hungover.

He chose to hide in the library today, ignoring Patrick’s texts and phone calls, needing a day to himself to decompress. Unfortunately for him, the library was very busy today and the only table he was able to snag was one in the farthest corner, two measly freshmen already seated there. He puts on his headphones wanting to emote to everyone that he was not to be bothered. But clearly whoever raised these two blockheads did not teach them about proper etiquette in the library. Not that David is complaining now since he is getting some crucial information.

“How much is the total now?”

“Three grand, I heard it’ll jump to five by tonight with their game against baseball. I heard hockey is planning on doing anything to win.”

David feeling the anger inside of him boiling over, takes off his headphones and gently places them on top of his books. He clears his throat demurely, furrowing his eyebrows together tightly, his gaze ice cold. Both freshmen, look up timidly at David.

“Sorry, w-we’ll be more quiet.”

“Oh no,” David says calmly. “You’re going to tell me everything you know.”


 

Patrick is warming up with his teammates when he hears his name being called out.

“Patrick!”

Patrick whips around quickly and sees David walking towards him quickly. Before anyone can say anything, Patrick runs towards David, wrapping his arms around his waist and tucking his head into his neck, breathing in his scent.

Patrick wants to sob in relief, having felt lost the entire day. He didn’t sleep well last night, guilt racking his brain. He called and texted David several times, getting no response in return, fear racing through his veins. Seeing David now makes Patrick feel relieved, even just for a little bit.

“I know you’re still pissed at me,” Patrick murmurs into David’s shoulder. “I just need to hold you for a minute.”

David doesn’t say anything, but wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck, and Patrick feels himself breathe for the first time since their fight last night.

Patrick feels David pull back slightly and whimpers pathetically, not wanting to let go yet. But David keeps his arms around Patrick’s neck, his fingers playing with the hair on the back of Patrick’s head. He closes his eyes and feels his body begin to relax, his mind saying David’s name like a mantra.

“I have to tell you something,” David says nervously and Patrick opens his eyes in panic.

“It’s about the hockey team,” David says quickly, rubbing his thumb against Patrick’s pulse point.

Patrick lets out a deep breath and nods his head for David to continue.

“I overheard some freshman talking in the library, about your kickball tournament-”

“Dodgeball-”

“Seriously?”

“Sorry, sorry, continue.”

Anyway, they started talking about the hockey team and how they stand to make a lot of money if you lose, like almost five grand, which I guess is a lot, I wouldn’t know obviously since I’ve been very lucky to have lived a very luxurious lifestyle-”

David.

“It’s rigged,” David blurts out. “The hockey team started a betting ring for the tournament and promised teams a cut of the winnings if they lost on purpose. But as I was interrogating the freshmen, who really don’t know how to keep their mouths shut, it turns out the winning pot is much more than the hockey team is letting on so their cut is bigger than everyone else’s.”

Patrick is quiet, absorbing the information David just gave to him. He drops his hands from David’s waist and turns around and calls out for Matt. He comes jogging over, his eyebrows knit in confusion.

“They’re cheating. We should use our plan today.”

Matt nods grimly and turns around to jog to the other team members.

“Plan?” David asks.

Patrick sighs deeply and turns back to David. “We had a feeling they were up to no good. So we have a plan to beat them today.”

“Um, can’t you just, eliminate them? They’re cheating.”

“This goes beyond that David.”

David’s mouth drops in shock. “What are you talking about?”

“They need to be taught a lesson David. They’ve been assholes to everyone.”

“Okay, so what is this plan? Are you going to cheat?” David asks wildly.

“No, of course not,” Patrick huffs out. “But they’ve been playing dirty, so we’re going to play dirty back.”

“Okay, what the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we’re going to be a little more physical today, okay?”

“Oh, so you’re going to be playing like a bunch of heathens?”

“You don’t get it, David. They’re playing dirty-”

“Yes, I’ve heard. But that’s an excuse for you to behave that way too?”

“It’s the principle of the thing, David,” Patrick replies annoyed.

“Mm, yes please lecture me about principles as you get ready to tackle people to the ground in the name of sports!”

“What do you want me to do? Lose? They’ll win and get all that money they clearly don’t deserve!”

“You can have them forfeit, you know, use some of those principles you’re preaching!”

“David, why don’t we talk about this later, after the game. I can come over, or you can come over-”

“No! We talk about this now or never Patrick Brewer,” David replies stomping his foot on the ground. “You have cancelled plans on me, expected me to work around your schedule, and have prioritized this stupid game over our relationship. And now you’re going to use immoral tactics to try to win this fucking game.”

Patrick rubs his face with his hands. “What do you want me to do David? Choose between you and the game? Seems a bit cliché.”

“Ew, I’m not that vain. I’m making you choose between the game and your integrity.”


“My integrity is in tact, David.”

“Your integrity wouldn’t have allowed you to take advantage of my patience, Patrick.”

Patrick rears back in shock, feeling like he was slapped.

“Your integrity wouldn’t allow you to play a game that was in any way less than moral.”

Patrick stares at David speechless, words unable to form in his mouth.

“Patrick! Game’s about to start!” Todd yells out to him.

“I know I’ve neglected our relationship,” Patrick says putting his hands on David’s stiff shoulders. “But we have just two more games left, David. Just one more week of this and it’s over and everything will be back to normal.”

“It’s not about our relationship or this stupid game Patrick! It’s about you! It’s okay to be competitive, but not at the expense of who you are!”

“Brewer!”

“David, I have to go.”

“Fine,” David says crossing his arms and looking down.

“I’ll call you after, I promise. I’ll come over-”

“Don’t.”

Patrick takes a step back, his mouth set in a hard line. “Fine,” he snaps before turning on his heel and walking away.

He feels angry, frustrated with David and that forces him to turn around to say one more thing. But the words die in his throat as he sees David’s retreating back, David walking away.

David walking away from him.

David walking away from them.

No, David would never walk away from them.

He thinks back to their four month anniversary, David whispering a promise into the skin of Patrick’s shoulder late in the night, not knowing Patrick was awake.

“I’ll never walk away if you don’t.”

And Patrick swore he would never. He couldn’t even fathom walking away from David, from what they have. But he just did, didn’t he?

Suddenly Patrick’s mind crowds him with the last two months. Cancelling lunch dates. Coming home late and crawling into bed with David already asleep. Leaving in the morning before David woke up. David smiling, laughing, and loving him through it all.

David will understand. David will understand. David will understand.

Patrick was the one who needed to understand.

His body falls forward, his legs running towards David, his heart squeezing painfully.

David, David, David.

“David!”

Patrick runs as quickly as he can, running in front of David to stop him.

“David,” Patrick says desperately. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, David.”

“You walked away,” David says with a deep frown.

“I know. Really fucking stupid of me,” Patrick says swallowing hard. “I haven’t been very smart lately.”

“I don’t want you to give this up for me.”

“I know.”

“I know how important it is for you to be on a team-”

“We’re a team,” Patrick interrupts. David shuts his mouth and blinks at him. Patrick takes his hands tightly in his and kisses his knuckles.

“I love being on a team David, our team. We’ve always done this together, right?”

David smiles at him, the same smile Patrick sees when it’s just the two of them. A smile that always brings Patrick to his knees.

David wraps his arms around Patrick’s neck and pulls him in, kissing him deeply.

“I love you,” David says when they pull apart, resting their foreheads together.

“I love you too,” Patrick responds, rubbing his thumb against David’s cheek. “I’m sorry for not understanding, David.”

“You understand now.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Patrick, come on, we need to go now,” Matt says jogging over to them. But Patrick keeps his eyes on David’s, smiling softly at him.

“Cancel the game, Matt,” Patrick says.

“What?”

“We’re not going to stoop to their level. It’s not right.”

Matt sighs deeply and nods his head. “Yeah, this was starting to get out of hand, wasn’t it?”

“Call the other team captains so we can talk about what to do about hockey. But the game’s off, it’s not worth it.”

Matt nods his head, a determined look in his eyes before he’s walking off to talk to the other team members.

“Now what?” David asks, scratching the back of Patrick’s head lightly.

“Now, I take my boyfriend out to dinner.”

“Will there be ice cream?”

Patrick throws his head back and laughs loudly, before catching David’s lips with his, loving him. Loving him always.


 

A week passes by and the tournament officially comes to a close. After exposing the hockey team for their immoral practices, they were quickly eliminated from the league, as well as all the other sports members who partook in the betting ring. The two members of the hockey team who were responsible for pushing aggressive strategies and the gambling were banned from partaking in any future student events, the rest of the hockey team looking visibly relieved.

Everyone collectively decided to stop the tournament, agreeing that it was bigger than anyone had imagined, planning to revamp the league next semester with a more detailed and organized strategy. Patrick would be helping hash out the details, but stepped down as co-captain, handing the reigns to Tami Miller, Matt’s girlfriend and captain of the softball team.

But as one last hurrah, baseball and the women’s basketball team held a charity match, agreeing to donate the proceeds of the game to a local center for LGTBQ youth. David wore Patrick’s baseball jersey to the game and cheered the loudest out of everyone. He was also the drunkest.

Baseball lost to basketball, but it didn’t matter. Winning wasn’t the point.

But for Patrick as he lays in his tiny twin bed with his arms wrapped around David, empty containers of frozen microwave salisbury steaks with mashed potatoes that were still frozen and watery broccoli perched on Patrick’s desk next to them, both spent after a rigorous round of David’s favorite sport, he knew he had already won a long time ago.

“David,” Patrick said softly, lazily drawing patterns into David’s bare shoulder.

“Hm?”

“Where do you think we’ll be in five years?”

“In a bigger bed.”

“Seriously, though.”

“Seriously.”

“But, really though.”

“Okay,” David huffs, lifting his head and resting it on Patrick’s chest so he can look at him in the eyes. “Five years from now we’re going to own a store.”

“A store?” Patrick asks running his hand through David’s hair.

“Yes, with a sand and stone color palette. You’re going to use your business degree to make it a lucrative business for us and I’m going to use my superior tastes and art degree to curate an excellent selection local artisanal products that we’re going to sell on consignment.”

“You’ve been thinking a lot about our future,” Patrick says shocked.

“Of course I have, haven’t you?”

Patrick has, thinking about the long black velvet box that’s currently stashed away in his sock drawer holding four gold rings.

“I even have a name. Rose Apothecary.”

Patrick grins. “Sounds just pretentious enough.”

“I think you mean timeless.”

Patrick laughs, resting his hand on David’s neck, pulling him closer. “There’s no one like you, David Rose.” And Patrick kisses him.

Notes:

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