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David is well accustomed with being the unstable one in all his relationships.
Patrick is so well put together. He’s an early riser, he doesn’t drink excessively, he plays a load of sports. Patrick's easygoing suburban background is the polar opposite of David’s unstable upbringing.
And yet, he has his own weaknesses. Soft spots that David uncovers as their relationship progresses.
He’s competitive. This fact is discovered at a one-time only board game night with Ray only a few months into their relationship. Patrick loses at monopoly and goes in a strop for the rest of the evening. David spends the night trying not to aggravate his boyfriend’s sensitive ego.
He is an only-child. He doesn’t handle criticism well, as evidenced in his relationship with Ronnie, and his consistent need to be liked by everyone he meets.
He doesn’t know how to ask for help. He gets sick and resists David’s help, he overworks himself on the regular, afraid of letting David down.
And he loves David. He loves David so much, and he will do anything to protect him. Sometimes he is so focused on this that he neglects taking care of himself. But this is where David comes in to remind his husband of all the things that matter most.
“One of those days?” He asks one morning as they arrive at the Apothecary. Patrick had been acting off for a few days, but today it had been the most pronounced. There is none of the usual banter at breakfast; David is his usual half-conscious self, but where Patrick would usually poke at him until he smiles, instead he’s quiet and withdrawn.
“I’m fine.”
Patrick gives a forced smile as he disappears behind the curtain.
The day is a slow but steady stream of customers, keeping David relatively busy but not rushed off his feet. He heads out to collect lunch, assuming his fiancé will remain ensconced in the back room with his spreadsheets.
He is unsurprised to find his mother already in the store when he returns. He hovers in the doorway, watching Moira interact with Patrick. As expected, Patrick has lost his usual Moira charm. He looks tired and is leaning against the counter with a pained expression.
“My prodigal child!” Moira exclaims as David enters. “It’s been so long since we have associated! I have come with news about your impending nuptials.”
“Oh, and what is that?” David asks with a light grin. His mother's dramatics are often overwhelming, but it's reliable that she will always arrive with big news and hot gossip. Her involvement in their wedding planning so obviously contrasts her absence from his childhood and he can't help but feel warm at the idea of her contributing.
David rounds the counter and presses a reassuring hand to Patrick’s back, handing him his lunch and gesturing for him to head back into the backroom. Moira is speaking again before he can push Patrick to make his escape, however.
“I was just telling your dashing gentleman here. Your father and I have been able to get in contact with some old associates from our old life.” She clasps her hands together excitedly. “They have agreed to do a full page about your wedding in Life Magazine!”
David immediately turns to Patrick. His back is tense as he braces his hands against the counter.
“Okay- um, can we talk about this another--”
“Day-vid. You have to let us help you celebrate! What will your old New York colleagues think to find out that you have been married in secret, as if you’re ashamed of--”
“Stop.” David hisses, turning to watch as Patrick slips back behind the curtain.
“Oh, should I be concerned? Your fiancé is extremely reticent today.”
“Okay, I think that’s enough from you now.” David says, losing his patience and holding up a finger in a desperate attempt to shush his mother. “What did you say to him before I got here?”
“Nothing, David. I was just communicating with him in regard to your history. It’s nothing he hasn’t heard of before, I’m sure.”
“What about ‘my history’ did you say to him?”
“Well, it came up organically I assure you, but if you must know, Patrick and I were just discussing the unfortunate events that led to us living in this very town.”
“You mean- Eli?”
“Well, yes David. Amongst other things.”
“Right, okay, good to know. Did you come in here to buy something or just to spread disarray across the local population?”
Moira blinks in surprise, but her red-lipped smile doesn’t waver. “Let nobody accuse me of not taking a hint. I’ll leave now, with this, and one last word.” She takes a lip balm and slips it into her bag. “Don’t let miscommunication soil your marriage before it has even begun.”
“Okay, nothing is soiled. Goodbye, now.”
David follows his mother to the door and flips the sign behind her, effectively closing the store. He takes a deep breath before crossing the border into the backroom, where his fiancé is hunched against the desk, his sandwich left untouched beside him.
“Hey, honey. How are we doing back here? Are you working through your lunch break?”
“There’s a lot to do, David. I just need to get this finished.” Patrick replies, not even looking up from his work.
“And what exactly is this?” David pokes around at the sheets covering the desk. “Are these the tax forms? I thought we already submitted these?”
“I haven’t submitted them yet. They are finished. I just needed to check them again, David. Can’t be sloppy with these things.”
David frowns and takes a step back. “I know that.”
“I know you do.” Patrick says, looking up. “I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. I just- I need to make sure these are done right before the deadline.”
“And when is the deadline?”
“Tomorrow.”
Patrick has gone back to bracing his head against the table. His breaths are rapid and shallower than before. David crouches down in front of him, careful not to put his jeans on the dusty floor, and tries to catch his eye.
“What’s going on in here?” He asks, tapping Patrick’s forehead familiarly. He can’t help but feel relieved as Patrick leans into his touch and lets out a slow breath.
“There’s a lot to do, David. I can’t get sloppy with this. I can’t risk--”
He takes a deep shuddering breath, and David watches as a teardrop falls onto his jeans, dampening into a small circle on his lap.
“You can’t risk what?”
“I can’t risk messing things up. Your parents, I’ve promised them that I will protect you.”
“Patrick, what makes you think you’re going to mess anything up?”
“I want to be deserving of you, David. But I just- I can’t do all of this. I can’t keep on top of it. I’m going to disappoint you; I can’t be the one to disappoint you.”
He’s fully sobbing now, and David opens his arms to pull him in, letting him rest his head against his chest. The wracks shake them both, and David clings to Patrick, holding him close and trying to get some comfort across in his actions.
“I know. I know.” He mutters. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
It takes a while for Patrick to quieten down, but David stays with him all the while, finally letting his knees hit the floor. He’d rather ruin his jeans than leave Patrick in this state.
Finally, he sniffs harshly into the back of his hand, and coughs as if to clear his head. He releases David, sitting back with an embarrassed look on his face.
“Okay?” David asks, looking carefully at his fiancé, refusing to break the connection by moving his hands, one to his shoulder and the other to cup his jaw.
Patrick nods mutely.
“I’ll get you some water.”
David heaves off the floor, rubbing at his knees pitifully, and grabs a water from the cooler, passing it to Patrick and giving him a moment to collect himself.
“I’m sorry, David.” He mutters after taking a few sips. “I shouldn’t lay this all on you. You’ve handled so much with the wedding and with your parents, and--”
This time, instead of sacrificing his jeans, David sits on the couch. He reaches over towards the desk and pulls Patrick with him, tugging him inelegantly to sit sideways on his lap, and hooks his hands around his knees to hold him there.
“Um--”
“Okay, I’m speaking now.” David says. He can feel Patrick smile as he curls himself into David’s chest, his arms around his shoulders, making himself as small as possible.
“You do so much for me. With the business, and with our relationship. But this has to stop.”
Patrick freezes. “I’m sorry, what?” He asks weakly.
“You have to stop putting so much pressure on yourself. The tax forms are complete, I already checked them over, so did Ray when we got him to consult. You must have read them a million times by now.”
“I know, David. But they need to be perfect. I know what happened with you and your family--”
“That’s not going to happen again.” David interrupts. “And, you know what, if it did, it would be equally as much my fault as yours. We’re in this together, Patrick. I trust you, but I also trust myself, and I checked those forms, and everything is correct.”
Patrick hums non-committedly, which David takes as permission to move on to the next topic.
“Now, on the topic of you being ‘deserving’ of me. I’m glad you hold me to such high standards, but I really do think you’re overthinking this.”
David holds Patrick just that tiny bit tighter.
“I love you. I know those words don’t mean a lot to many people, but they are so important to me. I don’t care what other people think. I have no interest in sharing our relationship with the world so please don’t listen to my mother. But I love you. Before I met you I could count on one hand how many times I said those words, and now I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve said it just to you. That means something to me.”
“I love you.” Patrick whispers into his neck.
“I know there is a lot happening at the moment, and I know how much you want to do for me, and I’m flattered. I’m so lucky to have this amazing husband who wants so much to look after me that he’ll dig himself into this little anxiety spiral. But I don’t want that.”
“I know. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“We’ll work this out. You can’t keep tangling yourself up in your head.” David says softly but firmly. “We can look into some coping methods, but I think--”
“I know.” Patrick says, closing his eyes tight and shrugging his shoulders. “I just- I don’t. I don’t know how to put it all into words.”
“Therapy can help you with that, honey. It doesn’t have to be this big deal, it can be weekly or monthly, or less. But we can find out if it works for you.”
He pauses a second, pressing a kiss to the side of Patrick’s face.
“I want to be here for you. We can work all these issues out together.”
“I know. I know, we will. I’m sorry.”
The tears dry, and Patrick rehydrates. David passes him some painkillers to get rid of the headache that has emerged and forces him to take a full hour-long break to eat his lunch.
The tax forms are submitted, after one final check over from David. The store picks up, and they make plenty of sales.
They cancel dinner with David’s family and instead head home to the apartment for some peace.
That night, Patrick settles into bed next to David, and turns around to fit in as the little spoon. He sighs as David kisses the back of his head and wraps his arms tightly around his middle.
“I love you, David.” He whispers as he falls asleep.
He doesn’t hear David’s response, but he knows what it is. He trusts himself to fall asleep with none of the spinning thoughts about the days ahead which had become customary. He slips into a dreamless sleep and rests easy.