Chapter Text
Ray was gone for three whole nights. Three whole nights of uninterrupted time together. And while the ‘alone time’ element was always welcome, David was also looking forward to some, well ‘alone time’. As much as they spent a lot of time together- more than perhaps would be healthy for many relationships- they were in work for much of that, or out on a date, or with Ray...or Alexis or Stevie, or David’s parents dropping in on a dinner at the cafe. In short there were a lot of people a lot of the time. So some alone time was good.
The first night-Thursday night- was exactly as they’d planned. David had arrived at around seven to Patrick cooking dinner. He couldn’t remember the last time someone cooked him dinner- we certainly weren’t counting his Mother’s failed attempt at Enchiladas in that. Predictably Patrick was Mr Organised in the kitchen, everything had a system. He’d cooked Pot Roast and wearing Ray’s floral apron while he did it gave him the air of someone’s Mom cooking a Sunday dinner. David wondered if he’d called his Mom checking on how to cook it, or whether he just knew, maybe he’d learned it from his Mom….Patrick caught him looking at that point, with no doubt a slightly wistful look on his face.
‘What?’ He’d asked.
‘Just like your apron.’ he’d smirked.
‘Get the plates.’ Patrick commanded ‘And the wine from the fridge.’
‘Ok Mom’ David had complained which earned him a slap with a nearby oven glove as he scooted past.
For desert Patrick had produced one of the Apple Pies that had just come into the store, which David had been drooling over for days. They took it to Ray’s couch where they ate it watching old episodes of The Great British Baking Show. Which surprisingly Patrick loved. Maybe he was a secret Paul Hollywood David mused. His brain got caught in a tangent then of how Patrick would look good with Silver-Fox hair like Hollywood’s and he found himself absently running his fingers through Patrick’s short hair.
‘I’m not growing it David.’ he said, not taking his eyes off the meringue-based drama on screen. ‘But my Dad does have a very nice head of silver hair in case you’re wondering.’
David ruffled Patrick’s hair. To the extent, there was anything to ruffle. They sat side by side on the sofa, having just finished dessert. Without thinking about it David leaned over and rested his head on Patrick’s shoulder ‘Good to know’ he said. ‘Still want to know what it looks like if you grow it.’
Patrick turned his head and kissed the top of David’s head. ‘One day.’ he said David lifted his head and grinned. He would hold him to that promise. Patrick reached over and took his hand. ‘This is...nice’ he said with a shy smile. David ran his thumb over Patrick’s hand and smiled.
‘Yeah.’ he said biting his lip. They hadn’t got to do a lot of this, just being in each other’s company with no time limit or agenda.
‘One more episode?’ Patrick said nodding at the TV.
David nodded. Patrick shifted over a bit, and lifted an arm as invitation, and David smiled and leaned under it.
An hour later they made their way upstairs, and enjoyed the rare moments of not having to hurry, or worry about doors opening. Laying with Patrick in his arms, exhausted but in the best way, David hadn’t felt this relaxed in years.
Why then, three hours later was he left staring at the ceiling, knowing he wasn’t going to get any sleep tonight.
He could always feel the difference. Between the ‘had slightly too much caffeine’ or ‘stayed up past the point of tired’ where he’d eventually fall asleep, and this. The ‘stare at the ceiling heart and mind racing’ kind of night. He hadn’t had one in a long time. When they first moved here they happened more than he admitted to anyone. He just got used to it Then it got better. Just every now and then. Rationally he knew it was this change. It was sleeping somewhere new. It was three whole nights ahead of him. And he cursed his stupid brain for turning that into something bad. But it was already off and spinning.
What if that was the thing. What if this was the thing that sent them wrong. What if three days and three nights were too much. Finally revealed all the things about him he was trying to keep hidden, or if not hidden...muted. What if he had some kind of weird habit he didn’t even know about yet that made Patrick run for the hills.
What if. That’s all he could think.
Patrick was so good. So nice. And kind and patient and more than he deserved he knew that. He felt like he was still cheating time until he was caught out. He knew his brain was going to spend hours convincing him of that. Or worse. Going over every time he’d got it wrong.
He turned on his side, back to where Patrick was still lying there, facing him, sound asleep. He forced himself to look at him there in the dark. To try and remember he wanted to be there, he wanted David there with him. Whether sensing him there or just by coincidence, Patrick rolled into him looping an arm over his hip pulling him slightly closer. David tried to concentrate on the weight of him, on his steady breathing. Closing his eyes and hoping it would send him to sleep.
He forced himself still for hours. Then rolled away when Patrick shifted in his sleep, and forced himself still while his mind whirred.
Eventually when his phone said 2.55am he let himself get up and escape downstairs. He curled up on Ray’s battered old couch and put his headphones in, retreating into a tried and tested playlist that if nothing else calmed the edges and allowed him to breathe a little. He’d brought his journal with him too, he couldn’t quite face confronting his thoughts on the page yet. So he closed his eyes for a bit and tried to let the music seep into his brain a little hoping to take the edge off enough to breathe easier.
Patrick woke up at five and turned over. It took him a second to realise David wasn’t there- not being used to him being there, his half awake brain didn’t register his absence at first. Waking up a little more his brain caught up, David was here, but he wasn’t here. He squinted into the darkness, he definitely wasn’t in the room. And the door was shut. Usually if he went to the bathroom he’d leave it open- so not to make extra noise clicking it open and shut. Maybe he’d just shut it though. Patrick leaned over to David’s side of the bed, it was cold. Ok, so he’d been gone a while. He sat up and flicked the light on, casting his gaze around for any clues. David’s bag was by the bed so he hadn’t totally run away in the night. He swung his legs over the bed, grabbed his sweater and made his way downstairs.
The living room lamp was on and the room was dimly lit, but Patrick could see David at the nearest end of the couch, sat upright but curled up in the corner, head resting on the cushions. He could see slight movement and registered he was writing in his journal. But he had headphones in.
‘David.’ Patrick said loud enough to break through whatever he was listening to. ‘You ok?’
David started a bit, but luckily didn’t seem too alarmed. He pulled out his earbuds. ‘Sorry.’ he said.
Patrick smiled kindly, while stifling a yawn ‘What you sorry for?’
David shrugged. ‘I was going to come back upstairs, before you woke up. Didn’t think you would for another hour or so.’
Patrick walked across the living room and leaned against the armchair, folding his arms ‘How long have you been down here?’
David frowned, closing his journal. ‘Since about three?’
Patrick nodded ‘You ok?’ he repeated.
David shrugged. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’ he uncurled his legs and stretched a bit ‘And when it got to like three, I figured it was definitely a lost cause and I didn’t want to wake you by laying there tossing and turning so….’ he shrugged. ‘Sorry.’ he said.
‘Why are you sorry?’ Patrick said again, moving and sitting down next to him.
David shrugged, ‘For, this, me, whatever.’
Patrick ran a hand up his back. ‘You couldn’t sleep. It’s hardly a deep dark secret’
‘Hmm,’ David said.
‘David?’ Patrick paused in his hand motions. David shook his head. So he didn’t push it. ‘We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to get ready for work.’ he said instead ‘Why don’t we just lie here for a bit?’
David looked over at him, looking exhausted, he nodded slowly. Patrick gave him what he hoped was a reassuring look. He lay back, his head on the arm of the couch, pushing the luckily oversized pillows, under him. David followed his lead, coming to lie half next to, half on top of him. It was a squeeze laying flat out on the couch but they managed it. Patrick pulled Ray’s woollen throw from the back of the couch and over the top of them. David’s head was on his chest and he absently played with his hair as he settled in, before wrapping both arms around him.
David’s heart slowed a little as he felt Patrick’s under him. His hand was in his hair, and then both arms wrapped around him. He exhaled and felt himself relax a little bit. His eyes got heavy and he felt himself drifting off at last. It wouldn’t be for nearly long enough, but it was something.