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“Oh my god. What was that?”
“A sneeze, David.”
A few minutes passed with Patrick sitting at his computer in the back and David putting orders together at the counter.
“Oh. My god. You did it again. What is going on?”
“Allergies, David.”
“You do not have allergies.”
“Yes, I do, David. Every spring.”
“I was with you last spring, and the spring before that. I think I would have remembered if you were sneezing all over the place.”
“I’ve sneezed tw....ACHOO...three times. Because I was just outside, bringing in all the shipments and mail. By myself. While you sat in here, and texted with Stevie.”
David looked at the pile of mail sitting on the counter, then over to the new stack of boxes he’d just been sorting through with alarm, and turned, one hand on his hip, the other gesturing toward Patrick.
“You’ve got the ‘Rona,” His head was tipped slightly back, eyebrows sky high.
“David. I don’t have the coronavirus. I have allergies.” He watched as David looked pointedly from him to the mail, back to him again. Eyes wide, and…
“You probably got it from the mail. You’ve been collecting the mail, almost everyday. Oh my god.” ...voice going a twinge higher with every statement.
Patrick, on the other hand, was all calm, soothing, reasonable tones, “David. The chance of getting the coronavirus from our mail is almost non-existent. And you’ve been touching the boxes as much as I have. So maybe,” He was smiling now, an edge of laughter creeping into his voice, “I got it from you.”
David’s jaw fell open and huffed as he turned his attention back to the shipment he was preparing for a customer. Patrick smiled to himself when he thought he heard David muttering about how that was “incorrect.”
A few minutes later, when Patrick sneezed one last time, David might have jumped slightly. But this time, he said nothing.
***
The next morning he awoke to the sounds and smell of Patrick making coffee for him. He smiled and stretched and wondered if he should get up and go find his two favorite things to wake up to in the morning, or wait for them to come to him.
He had just swung his legs over the side of the bed, getting ready to meet Patrick in the kitchen, because he was feeling very generous this morning, when he heard it again and froze. A sneeze. He involuntarily held his breath and tensed, waiting to see if it would be followed by another one, and felt a sense of dread when it was followed by something much worse. Patrick blowing his nose! Sneezing was one thing, but this? This was a lot.
He was still sitting there, stuck, contemplating his next move, and what he should pack if he was going to move into the motel, when Patrick entered the room, one cup of coffee and one cup of tea in his hands, “Morning sunsh..., David. What’s wrong?” He asked as he moved towards David, setting the cups down on the nightstand, before reaching out to put his hand on David’s shoulder.
He was surprised when David ever so slightly backed his shoulder away from his touch and dropped his hand to his side. “David, what is going on?”
David looked up at him, a mix of disgust and concern on his face, “You have the ‘Rona!”
Patrick huffed out a laugh, and quickly changed to his “I’m a reasonable adult and you are clearly not” voice, “David, come on. I do not have the coronavirus. I have allergies. You and I have not been anywhere other than the store or this house for over 5 weeks.”
“You’ve picked up food from the cafe.”
“So have you, David.”
“Well clearly, I didn’t pick up food on a day when the cafe was infested with people carrying the plague!”
Patrick kept the “let’s be reasonable” tone but softened it a bit as he put one hand on both of David’s shoulders. He rubbed his hands up and down his biceps, onto his shoulders, gently massaging them as he spoke. “David. I am not sick. I have allergies. The only people in Schitt’s Creek who’ve been sick so far are Roland and Jocelyn and they’ve both been quarantined for almost 3 weeks now. We are doing everything we are supposed to be doing. We aren’t going out. The store has been closed for 5 weeks. We are wearing masks when we leave the house and washing our hands.”
He felt David relax a little underneath his hands.
“And besides, if I have the ‘Rona, you definitely already have it. Or, did you forget all of the things your body did to all of my body last night? There is no way you didn’t catch it.”
David gasped, eyes wide with horror, as Patrick laughed and leaned down to kiss him. David didn’t back away and only somewhat reluctantly pecked him on the lips. Patrick pulled back, a bemused expression on his face. He handed David his coffee, watching as David paused, looking at it skeptically before bringing it to his lips.
“Hey, if we go down, at least we go down together.”
David glared at him but scooted back into bed, leaning against the headboard, drinking his coffee. Tracking Patrick out the corner of his eye as he made his way to his side of the bed. Setting his tea down on the bedside table, he paused before getting in. “Is this ok, David? Because I could take my tea to the living room. If you still aren’t convinced.”
“There will be no need for that now. As you’ve so eloquently pointed out, I am most likely already afflicted.”
Patrick climbed in next to David, arranging his pillows comfortably behind his back and settling in. “David, you aren’t sick, and neither am I.”
Gesticulating as he spoke for emphasis, “But what if one of us gets sick? What if it’s you?” His palms up he spread his arms indicating all the space around them, his voice getting a bit quieter as he finished “How am I supposed to take care of all of this, by myself?”
Patrick pressed his lips together and looked down before he spoke. “Then we get sick, we stop taking orders for a couple of weeks, and because we are both young and healthy, most likely, at worst, we feel really crappy for a week or two.” He reached over and grabbed David’s hand as it rested in his lap, softly rubbing David’s palm with his thumb as he talked, “But we will be fine. The store will be fine. And I promise you, no matter how weak I get, I will still have the strength to order you pizza.”
He smiled as the left side of David’s mouth started to quirk up into his lopsided smile.
David slid a bit more towards the center of the bed until their shoulders and thighs were touching. Patrick nudged him with his elbow, and when David turned to look at him, he reached up to cup the back of his neck as David leaned closer.
Just before their lips met, Patrick pulled back ever so slightly, “Can we risk it?”
David shook his head and rolled his eyes, “Shut up,” he murmured before they kissed, soft and slow. David had to admit, there were some perks to this situation. Like long, lazy mornings, with no schedule to keep and plenty of time for each other.
***
A few days later they were back in the store and David was dusting. As the duster swept across a corner that must not have been thoroughly reached the last few times he’d dusted, a small plume of particles wafted towards him and before he could stop it, he sneezed.
Behind him, voice full of mockery, “Oh no. I think you have the…”
As David shot him a death glare over his shoulder. Patrick cut his words off, but could not keep from chuckling, very quietly, to himself.