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It’s not until Patrick has him pressed up against the outside of the door to room thirteen that David begins to suspect the problem might be worse than he initially thought. It’s difficult to tell, though, because Patrick is being very distracting. His hands are under David’s sweater, rough fingers sliding over the sensitive skin of his belly and around to drag slowly against the skin of his back, leaving goosebumps in their wake; his hot, wet mouth is latched onto David’s neck, sucking and biting, and it’s easy to ignore the discomfort he feels in his upper thigh in favor of focusing on Patrick’s sharp teeth and wicked tongue sending shivers through his body.
%%%
Dropping to his knees so enthusiastically at the end of the lip sync may not have been David’s best idea. He is not twenty anymore, even though he’s certain he still looks like he is thanks to his assiduously observed skincare regimen. It felt right in the moment, though, and based on Patrick’s behavior ever since, it went over quite well with him, thank you very much. It was totally worth the bruises he’ll probably have on both knees tomorrow.
After throwing his arms up in approval and acceptance of David’s olive branch, Patrick instantly slid onto the floor and crashed their mouths together, his hand clenched in David’s hair, forcing him to tilt his head the way he liked so he could kiss him as deeply as possible. David had whimpered and melted into Patrick. Finally! This was the reunion David wanted when he walked through the door of the Apothecary earlier that day, all tongues and desperation, heat and hardness, moans and gasps. He grabbed Patrick by the hips and pulled him close. There hadn’t been any space at all between them then, and he never wanted to feel space between them again, literally or metaphorically. His mind drifted off into a brief fantasy. Surely they could find a way to live their lives actually joined at the hips. If only his family hadn’t lost their money. If he were still rich they could just spend all day, every day, in bed. They could fuck endlessly and sleep in one another’s arms and they would never see or talk to anyone else ever again. It would be perfect.
David was pulled out of his thoughts when Patrick wrenched his mouth from David’s and kissed his way to his ear, where he panted and whispered hoarsely, “I missed you so fucking much, David,” before pulling on David’s hair again and forcing his head back. He unzipped the top of David’s sweater with his other hand and sank his teeth into the meat of his shoulder. David squeaked breathlessly. Fuck. “I missed you too… Patrick —” he broke off into a groan as Patrick alternately dragged his tongue and scraped his teeth up the side of his neck until he reached David’s earlobe and bit it, hard.
David’s hips jerked involuntarily. He grabbed Patrick’s ass, pressed his erection against Patrick’s, and began to rock his hips. They both shuddered at the sensation, desperate to be even closer, and Patrick claimed his mouth again, tongue sliding back and forth over David’s in unison with their hips.
Things were escalating quickly and Patrick pulled back from the kiss but stayed close enough that his lips brushed David’s when he spoke. “If we don’t get out of here I’m going to end up sucking your cock in full view of the entire town.”
David tipped his head back and bit down on a grin at the image that conjured. “I mean…” he trailed off suggestively.
Patrick chuckled. “Come on. Let’s go to the Sherwood. I don’t want the entire town watching and I don’t want to worry about Ray being too excited by our reconciliation to stay out of my room.” He paused and heat flooded his eyes again as he pinned David with his gaze. “It’s been a week, David. I want privacy.” He took David’s mouth again in a searing kiss full of a week’s worth of frustration and pent-up desire.
It had taken them several more minutes to actually let go of each other long enough to stand up. That was when David felt the popping sensation. He inhaled sharply at the sudden pain and Patrick was instantly concerned, one hand on David’s shoulder and the other cupping the back of his head as he searched his face. “You okay?”
“Mmm-hmm,” David nodded, “I’m fine.”
“Okay.” Patrick kissed him once more, softly, and walked to the back of the store.
David figured that was what he got for dropping to the floor like that and then kneeling on hardwood for so long. He worked to stretch his legs a bit while he pressed down on his erection and waited for Patrick to turn off the lights and grab his keys. Something still didn’t feel right. When it was time to walk, David felt the first twinges of actual pain high up on his right leg. He definitely needed to stretch that leg some more, but that could wait because Patrick was back and ready to leave and literally nothing was more important than getting behind a closed door and getting their naked bodies pressed together as soon as possible. David grabbed the impatient, wiggling fingers of the hand that Patrick was holding out behind himself and followed him out of the store.
%%%
Ever since arriving at the motel, they’ve been making out in front of room thirteen, overnight bags on the ground at their feet, unable to stop long enough to actually go into the room. David is practically suspended between the door behind him and the enthusiasm of the man in front of him. He runs his palms up Patrick’s chest, appreciating the firm curve of his pecs and how they look under the deep blue shirt. This shirt clings to him in a way his other shirts don’t and David has been noticing it all day. He tugs the first fastened button of Patrick’s shirt loose and then the next before sliding a hand inside to rub his thumb over Patrick’s nipple until it hardens. Patrick moans into his mouth and their kiss gets messier. He loves how sensitive and responsive Patrick is. David pushes Patrick away just a little, far enough to break their kiss. Patrick blinks his eyes open slowly and presses his forehead to David’s while he catches his breath. David thrusts against him and bites his own lip. “How about we take this inside?”
Patrick’s eyes are locked on David’s mouth. “Yeah, let’s…” He doesn’t finish the sentence. David knows he’s distracted by the sight of David’s swollen lip popping free of his teeth. It’s something he does intentionally now to provoke Patrick because he seems to find it insanely hot. Sure enough, Patrick darts forward and captures David’s lip between his own and begins rubbing his tongue over it while he reaches behind David and gets the door open. They stumble into the room, arms and legs still tangled as David gets his feet back under him. That’s when David feels the second pop. He cries out and clutches his groin with both hands. If Patrick hadn’t already had his arms around him David surely would’ve fallen, but instead he sags forward, his head dropping to Patrick’s shoulder.
“David!” Patrick gasps. “What’s wrong?” He looks down at David’s hands clutched over his groin and his mouth drops open in disbelief and a slow grin spreads across his face. “You didn’t— already?!”
“What?!” David bites out through the pain. “Oh, my god!” His voice rises as he realizes what Patrick means and he looks up to glare at him, insulted. “Of course I didn’t!”
Patrick’s grin fades immediately when he sees the pain on David’s face and he lays a hand on his cheek. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
Even through the pain, David takes a moment to press his cheek into Patrick’s palm and enjoy the endearment and the further evidence it provides that everything is okay between them again. “I think maybe I hurt myself back at the store. It was just kind of intense for a second there. It’s okay. I’m fine.”
Patrick glances down again to where David is still clutching himself. “I think you might have a groin pull, David.”
“A what?!” Terror lights in David and he feels his eyebrows fly upward. He holds onto himself even tighter.
Patrick presses his lips together to disguise his amusement at David’s reaction but David knows the rhythms of his face very well and isn’t fooled. “It’s just a pulled muscle, but pretty painful, as I recall. It’s usually a sports-related injury.”
“Well,” David sniffs as if he’s been asked to wear a poly-blend fabric, “I don’t think I’m athletic enough to qualify for one of those.”
Patrick’s smile gets away from him and blooms as he shuffles David carefully toward the bed. “I don’t know about that. You worked up a sweat with that performance.”
“The leather sweater was a terrible idea,” David mutters.
“Maybe, but you look gorgeous.”
David decides to forgive him for being amused when David is in pain from an injury sustained in the name of… well— his mind skitters away from the natural end of that sentence— in the name of liking someone a lot.
Patrick presses a kiss to his temple. “Okay, let’s sit you down.”
David can feel the flex of Patrick’s biceps under his hands while he lowers him to the bed, and he thinks about what those gorgeous arms look like when Patrick holds himself over David’s body. Patrick’s compact and quiet strength is sexy as hell. His mostly unbuttoned shirt is gaping open and he can see Patrick’s pecs tensing with the effort of making sure David lands gently. And just like that, David’s forgotten about the pain again. His fingers tighten on Patrick’s arms and he tilts his head up and chases Patrick’s mouth until their lips catch. He tries to deepen the kiss immediately but the angle is all wrong.
“Mmphm,” Patrick makes a surprised noise and then kisses him back for a moment before pulling away. “Feeling better?”
David bats his eyes. “I’m feeling lots of things.”
Patrick sinks to his knees in front of him. “Yeah?” he whispers.
“Mmm-hmm,” David nods slowly and stares openly at Patrick’s chest. Even partly unbuttoned, the deep blue shirt still clings to him. “I like you in this shirt.” He grabs the collar of it in both hands and tugs Patrick forward into another kiss.
Patrick mumbles breathlessly, “Kinda seems like you’d like me out of this shirt.”
David drops his voice as low as he can and rumbles, “Yes, please.”
Patrick shivers in response to that voice and runs his hands up David’s thighs and pushes them apart so he can scoot closer.
Another bright tear of pain shoots through David and he jerks. He clenches his eyes shut and hisses.
Patrick freezes. “Babe?”
“Yeah,” David exhales hard. “Just give me a minute.” He wants to appreciate the sound of another endearment falling from Patrick’s mouth so easily but he can’t focus on it this time.
Patrick flexes the hand that is resting high up on David’s right thigh and says, “David, you feel hot.”
“Thank you, Patrick. You feel hot too, but I need a minute.”
Patrick chuckles and kisses David’s forehead. “No, I mean your leg. Right here.” He squeezes lightly and David winces. “The muscle feels hot and hard.”
“Um, okay,” David says. “What does that mean?”
“It’s possible you really hurt yourself, David. We need to ice the area right away and we probably need to take you to the doctor in the morning to have it checked.”
David grimaces and lets a little whine slip into his voice. “Seriously?”
“Afraid so.” Patrick stands, walks over to the ice bucket, and removes the plastic liner. “I’m going to get some ice and then I’ll be back to help you. Stay there until I get back.” He’s pressing down on the front of his pants as he goes and in his distraction he nearly trips over the bags they forgot about in the doorway. He brings them inside, quirks an embarrassed smile at David, and then goes off in search of ice.
As the door swings closed David claps his hands over his eyes and lets out a frustrated growl. This is not how tonight is supposed to go. This wasn’t the plan. Hot, sweaty make-up sex was the plan. That was a good plan. This sucks. He had totally been showing off, dropping to his knees like that. Why did he do it? Ugh.
By the time Patrick returns David knows he is in a full pout and failing to hide it. His arms are crossed and he knows he should be concerned about frown lines but he’s too annoyed to care. When Patrick opens the door and sees David’s face he smiles gently. “Hey, now, it’s going to be okay.”
Patrick’s quiet sympathy and kind brown eyes deflate David’s irritation immediately and he suddenly finds himself blinking back tears of frustration and disappointment instead. “This isn’t fair. I had plans. Sweaty, naked plans.” He looks at the floor and mumbles, “I’ve missed you.”
Patrick kneels in front of him again and sets the bag of ice down before taking David’s hands in his own. He raises one hand and presses a kiss to David’s knuckles and then does the same with the other hand. “I know. Me, too.” He leans up and kisses David’s lips softly. “But we’re here and we’re together. That’s all that matters.”
David rolls his eyes. “I guess.”
“Come on. Let’s get you comfortable. Lifting your leg is going to hurt a lot so let’s see if we can avoid making you do that.” Patrick considers for a few seconds and then continues. “Let’s start with your top half. You get your sweater off and I’ll get your night clothes.”
As he lifts the leather sweater over his head David says, “I need to do my face.”
“I think you’ll be okay skipping it for one night.”
Patrick is busy digging through David’s bag for his pajamas and it takes a moment for him to register the silence that has fallen behind him. When he turns to look, David stares at him with big eyes and brows raised nearly to his hairline. “I am very uninterested in that option,” he says. “Also, it requires a steady hand and I’m going through a lot right now.”
Patrick grins as he recognizes that David is repeating something he’s said before and he plays along. “Do you think you’re going to make it, though?”
David is pleased Patrick remembers and he smiles before quickly before schooling his face back into a frown. “Unclear. Unclear on whether I’m gonna make it through or not.”
“Well, I suppose I’d better help you then.”
David feels a warm burst of fondness for Patrick and when the smile comes this time he lets it stay. Patrick returns the fond look and immediately comes to him for a kiss. David hums happily at that response. Then Patrick works slowly and methodically to get David into his pajamas with as little pain as possible. Once he has him tucked into bed and comfortable with the ice pack placed over the traitorous area, Patrick gets himself ready for bed. Then he fetches David’s toiletry bag and a couple of warm, damp washcloths and climbs up next to David on the bed and sits facing him. “Okay, David. Talk me through it.”
Usually David’s nine-step skincare routine takes about forty-five minutes to complete. It takes twice as long this night, though, because Patrick requires several reward kisses between each step. “I need motivation, David.” Patrick also takes the time to comment on the names and contents of the various bottles and little jars.
At one point, Patrick holds up a tiny, bright green tub and says, “Lip sleeping mask.” He raises his eyebrows. “I had no idea that was a thing.” He looks at the jar again and then back at David. “Apple lime flavor. Yum.”
Patrick’s eyes have darkened and David feels a frisson of heat. He closes his eyes and parts his lips, waiting to see which Patrick will touch him with-- his lips or his fingers. In the end, it’s both, as well as his tongue, and Patrick has to apply the lip mask a second time.
When they eventually reach the last step of the routine, Patrick squints at the label of the final product and reads aloud, “Donkey cream.” He grins at David, “Seriously?
David stares at him calmly, unblinking, trying to convey that he is absolutely not here for Patrick’s mocking.
Patrick continues reading the label. “It’s made of forty-seven percent donkey’s milk.” He looks at David again, face serious but eyes twinkling with suppressed amusement. “Donkey’s milk?”
David rolls his eyes and bobbles his head a little. “Yes. It’s four times more hydrating than cow’s milk.”
Patrick’s mouth is beginning to twitch as the amusement in his eyes travels to the rest of his face. “And you’re definitely meant to put that on your face, not drink it.”
David narrows his eyes and glares at Patrick. “If you make an ‘ass milk’ joke we are breaking up again.”
“I would never.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
Finally, once David’s face is properly moisturized and Patrick has received an adequate number of kisses, he turns out the lamp, and slides under the sheets next to his boyfriend. Patrick props his head on one hand. With the other, he reaches over and rubs David’s chest. “How do you feel?”
David snorts in disgust. “If you had told me this night would end with you giving me a facial and an ice pack on my balls I would’ve guessed we’d had way more fun than this.”
Patrick bursts into laughter, his whole body shaking with it. “Oh, my god, David.”
David twists his mouth to one side, trying to maintain an aggrieved expression but it’s useless. Soon they are both giggling helplessly.
Once they calm down and are lying quietly next to each other, David feels his previous bad mood begin creeping back over him again. “Nothing about this day has gone the way I imagined.”
Patrick slides closer until he’s pressed all along David’s side. He leans over and presses kisses to the unhappy crease between David’s brows until it fades. He reaches up and smoothes a finger over one of David’s grumpy eyebrows and then the other, until they relax. He uses the same finger to gently encourage David to tilt his chin toward Patrick and presses his lips against David’s sweetly. “We have all the time in the world, David.”
David’s heart stutters in response to the promise hiding in those words. “Yeah?” he whispers.
Patrick kisses him again. “Yeah.”