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Mom: Dad is asking if you watched the game earlier.
Patrick adjusted his back against the uncomfortable headboard of David’s twin bed as he looked at the text notification on his phone. His dad hated texting, but he wasn’t above asking his wife questions for Patrick, which she then relayed to him through text. His thumbs moved over the screen as he answered.
Yeah. Amazing rally!
After a few seconds during which he listened to Alexis’ slightly manic magazine page flipping, he added.
Watched it with David’s dad.
Mom: Oh, that’s nice! Is he a Jays fan?
Patrick: I don’t think he follows it closely. He wanted to give me a talking to, and watching the game with me was a means to that end.
Adjusting his back against the headboard again, Patrick looked down at his pillow options. Leaving the bed pillow on David’s side (as if this tiny bed could have ‘sides’), Patrick picked up the decorative pillow and braced it behind his neck.
Mom: Uh oh.
David shuffled out of the bathroom, drinking from the water bottle that Patrick had forced into his hands on the way home from the winery. David hadn’t spent nearly as long on his nighttime skincare routine as he usually did, which was as big a sign as any that he was still feeling the affects of his fruit wine odyssey, even if he had sobered up enough not to press any more enthusiastic, sloppy kisses against Patrick’s mouth like he was an untrained puppy.
“How was your class, Alexis?” David asked. He sounded almost genuinely curious, which Patrick found interesting given David’s terrible acting earlier during Mrs. Rose’s mission to extract him from having to watch baseball. Maybe he was more accustomed to playing these games with his sister.
“Um, it was a big success; thank you for asking!” Alexis said, sounding way too chipper. “Everyone had a great time, and the clients were like, super impressed.”
“Oh, that’s good,” David said as he climbed into bed. Patrick felt David’s bare toes drag against his shin as he tried to focus on responding to his mother’s text.
No, it wasn’t a bad thing. We sort of bonded, I guess.
“I wonder if that means they’ll give you priority boarding when you enter the Gateway,” David continued, calling Alexis’ bluff.
Looking at the three dots on his phone as his mother texted him back, Patrick didn’t watch Alexis’ reaction, but he heard the flapping of her magazine. “Oh my god — Stevie did this, didn’t she?”
Stevie had, in fact, given them the entire run down that evening over dinner while Patrick worked to get some food into his drunk fiancé.
Mom: I’m so glad! I could tell when we were there on your birthday how much the Roses love you. All of them, not just David.
“Now, do the step machines actually lift off the ground, or are they just there to help you practice for when you walk onto the spaceship?” David said as he settled in, his hip bumping against Patrick’s under the covers.
“Come on, David, she didn’t know,” Patrick said, feeling some sympathy for Alexis.
“Thank you,” Alexis said.
But not that much sympathy for Alexis. “But now that you do, does it make the journey to the Gateway just that much more meaningful?” he said with his best guileless voice, leaning over to look at his future sister-in-law.
“Okay, you know what? Honestly? This whole situation is starting to gross me out,” Alexis sniped, gesturing at the two of them in bed. “It’s like I’m sharing a room with my twin brothers who kiss.”
Patrick wasn’t sure if he just wanted to troll Alexis more or if hearing the word ‘kiss’ triggered him like some kind of tender sleeper agent, but before he even registered the decision to do so, he’d leaned over and pressed a kiss against David’s forehead, humming with affection as he did so. David’s head was lower on the bed and when he turned, the only part of Patrick that his lips could reach was Patrick’s arm. David pressed a kiss there, and the warmth of David’s lips through the thin material of his t-shirt made Patrick swoon just a little bit.
Mr. Rose came in then, and if he found the tableau of David and Patrick snuggled up in bed to be awkward, he didn’t show it. He just seemed happy to have everyone under the same roof, and that everyone seemed to include Patrick. Mr. Rose grinned, and Patrick could only grin back. Then Mrs. Rose came into the room too, still visibly suffering from her day-drinking binge, and soon she was snuggling up with Alexis, mumbling something about a sleepover. Alexis made a lot of annoyed protestations, even more so when her own father made fun of her for almost joining a cult. It was weird and yet completely domestic at the same time. Patrick felt a bit like he was getting a look at the inner sanctum, at the way the Roses behaved when it was only the four of them. Warm feelings for the family bloomed in his chest.
“So does this happen every night?” Patrick whispered to David.
David turned to him. “Um, no. No it doesn’t,” David responded, but the look on his face told Patrick that wasn’t entirely true. They smiled at each other, and David pressed his face up against Patrick’s arm, and in that moment Patrick loved David so much that he thought his heart was going to explode.
Mr. Rose managed to coax his wife back to bed, closing the door between their rooms. With another annoyed huff, Alexis turned off the lamp and plunged the room into darkness, although a significant amount of light still filtered through the curtains. The Rosebud Motel did not have the kind of blackout curtains that most hotels possessed. Patrick sent a final text to his mother.
Going to sleep now. I’ll call you Sunday.
Mom: Goodnight, sweetheart. And tell David goodnight too. 😉
Patrick squinted at the winking emoji, trying to process the fact that his mother was teasing him about his sleeping arrangements with his fiancé. At least she didn’t use eggplant emojis to do so, like Stevie. Putting his phone on the floor, Patrick scooted down the bed, trying to get comfortable on David’s decorative pillow. “Here, we can share,” David said, adjusting his own bed pillow until it was under both of their heads as the small pillow fell off the edge of the bed.
“Thanks,” Patrick whispered, putting an arm over David’s waist and kissing him gently, a simple press of their lips together.
“I’m sorry I abandoned you today,” David said, his voice equally quiet.
“It was fine. Your dad and I had a good time.” He kissed David again. He knew that if they were back in the bed they usually shared in Patrick’s apartment, he’d be deepening the kiss, pressing David into the mattress until they were both panting and desperate to get their clothes off. As it was, he’d have to settle for a few kisses and for holding David close.
David huffed. “You don’t have to say that.”
“It was.”
“Still,” David said, kissing him back with a matching gentleness. “I don’t want to take you for granted. I love you.”
Patrick moved his hand up to the back of David’s head, fingers combing through the short hair at the nape of his neck. He pulled him closer, mouth opening, because surely a little bit of tongue would be okay. David seemed to think it was okay too from the way he kissed him back.
“Can you two stop, please?” Alexis whispered harshly. “I can hear the smacking noises!”
“Sorry,” Patrick called to Alexis, and then said to David, “I love you, too.”
“Turn over; you can be the little spoon,” David said.
David loved being the little spoon, so much so that there was a mole on David’s shoulder blade where Patrick’s face usually was pressed that Patrick had come to think of as his, he was so well acquainted with it. “You sure?”
David pushed on his arm. “Turn over before I change my mind.”
Patrick did, carefully not to pitch either of them off the edge of the narrow bed. He settled down, his spine pressed against David’s chest, David’s knees against the back of his knees. David wrapped an arm around him, sliding his hand up under Patrick’s shirt to touch bare skin. He felt David kiss the back of his head.
Lying awake for a long time, Patrick imagined all the nights like this they would get to have in the future that stretched out ahead of them. Nights when they held each other to soothe each other’s worries. Nights when one or both of them had had a little too much to drink. Nights when they held each other as an apology after a fight. Nights when they drifted off in post-coital bliss. Nights when the cuddling was a balm to their sadness. Nights when there was too much joy for sleep to come easily.
“I can’t wait for you to be my husband, David,” Patrick whispered, unsure if David was still awake.
An answer came in the press of David’s hand against his chest, right over his heart. “Me neither.”