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“Does it ever get boring?”
That’s not the question David had been intending to slip out. His in-laws look at him in surprise. They’re spending a week at the cottage over Patrick’s birthday to celebrate and to finally put work into rebuilding the tentative relationship that had been so tarnished by the time apart.
Patrick is at the store. They’ve been taking shifts on spending time with the Brewers and today it’s David’s turn.
They’d wandered around the only mall within driving distance, stopped by the store to cover Patrick’s lunch, and are now all sat in the warm living room of the cottage, nursing slightly too hot mugs of tea and coffee.
“Does what get boring?” Marcy asks after a moment of silence.
David can feel his face heating up as he gestures around them. To the mantlepiece Patrick had painted black himself. The potted plants, and photographs lining their walls all in coloured frames; their matching uniforms at the baseball match, their replacement engagement photos, their wedding photos.
“Owning a house? I don’t think I’d say it was boring, but some of the responsibilities get a little much,” Clint cuts in. His eyes are glittering slightly with humour, just like Patrick’s do when he’s being purposefully obtuse, forcing David to voice his thoughts in a more concise manner.
“It doesn’t matter--”
“No, go on, dear.”
David pauses, bites his lip, and twists his wedding band around his finger. It could do with a polish; he ate hot wings last night and there is residual grease marring the shiny surface of it. When he looks up, two matching pairs of blue eyes greet him.
“You know- The domesticity of it all. Settling down. Having a life together. Does it ever get- boring?”
“Are you bored, David?” Marcy asks, her tone shifting just slightly into tense, ready to defend almost, though David is not sure against who.
“God no, never,” he huffs out an embarrassed laugh. “I- um, I never thought I would have this. A partner, and a house, and a store. Things to look after, people that depend on me. I don’t think it’s possible for me to get bored of it. I was more thinking--” he trails off, afraid that he’s said too much, but his mother-in-law finishes his line of thought for him.
“You’re worried that Patrick will get bored?”
“I- huh, I mean--”
They’re interrupted by the sound of the front door closing. The jingle of keys and the hesitation that David knows is Patrick carefully toeing his shoes off, as per the agreement, to save the handmade rugs that are scattered around their home.
“Honey, I’m home!” Patrick shouts, as he always does, because he thinks he’s hilarious, and it never fails to make David smile.
“In here!”
“Hi,” Patrick is immediately on a bee-line to David, leaning over the back of the couch to give him an awkwardly placed upside-down kiss. “Good day?” he kisses David again before pulling back and heading over to their open kitchen to place a bag down on the counter.
“Mhm, how was the store?”
“Still standing, it misses you, though. The scarves are mourning your absence, and nobody has moved all the moisturiser nozzles to face the front in almost 24 hours!”
David rolls his eyes at his teasing and moves to stand up and help Patrick with unpacking the groceries he must have collected on the way home. “What’s all this?”
“Dad said he’d teach me how to make his classic chicken parmesan for dinner tonight, sound good?” he angles for a kiss as David passes him to put the chicken breasts in the fridge, making a smacking noise as he does so and earning a grin in response.
“Mm, sounds perfect.”
“We’d better get started on that sooner rather than later, son,” Clint says, standing up and heading over to the counter tops. Patrick nods, pointing his fingers at his Dad in confirmation.
“I’ll just go and get changed. The aprons are in the cupboard there,” he says as he heads out of the door, slapping David’s ass on the way out and winking at him behind his parents backs. “Won’t be long.”
As soon as his husband leaves the kitchen, David can feel Marcy and Clint eyeing him. He lets out a breath and turns to them, only to find them grinning wildly at him.
“What?” he grumbles as he looks away from their knowing gaze, though the smile on his face negates his intention.
Marcy rounds the kitchen counter and comes up to David, putting a hand to his face and cupping it gently. “Oh, sweetheart. I know how nerve wracking it can be, to put your faith in someone and trust that it will last. But I can promise you, Patrick will never get bored of this. You may think you’re new to it, but so is he, and God, he loves you.”
David sucks his lips into his mouth and nods. He accepts the kiss Marcy plants on his cheek with good grace and forces a smile as he watches Clint pop open a bottle of red wine.
He turns around and watches them; seeing how they interact. How they dive in and out of each other’s space. How Clint teases without mercy, and how Marcy gives as good as she gets.
They’re laughing about something when Patrick returns, smelling of the lemony shower gel David had brought from the store. He stays seated as Patrick approaches and slots himself into Patrick’s side, rubbing his nose against the damp patch of skin on his neck and breathing deeply, letting his husband’s familiarity settle him.
“You alright?” Patrick asks, as they watch Marcy swat at Clint with a tea towel as he laughs and feigns innocence.
David nods silently and leans closer, closing his eyes for a second to savour the moment.
“Alright! Alright, I’m sorry!” Clint is saying as Marcy glares at him.
“Come on guys, you’re gonna make David regret marrying me. I was hoping to keep all the Brewer craziness hidden at least a little bit longer,” Patrick chides, even as he smiles at the sight.
“Oh, because this is just as bad as the Rose brand of crazy,” David says sarcastically.
“What can I say, it’s a match made in heaven,” Patrick says, scrunching up his nose in response as David pokes him in the ribs.
“Okay, come on, anyone that’s not cooking out of my kitchen.”
Marcy puts her hands up and retreats, grabbing two of the glasses of wine from the counter and nodding towards the back door. “Come on, David. We know when we’re not wanted.”
David stands and follows her, hesitating at the last minute to grab his husband by the arm and drag him over to the cupboard. He gets the black, diamond studded Kiss the Cook apron out and throws it over Patrick’s neck.
“Don’t think I can’t tell that’s my t-shirt,” he chides as he spins Patrick around by the shoulders so that he can tie the string around the back. “If you get flour on it, you’re buying me a new one.”
Clint tilts his head questioningly as he looks at the white t-shirt Patrick is wearing.
“They cost $50, each,” David says in lieu of an explanation, grinning in satisfaction when Clint’s eyes go wide and horrified. He presses a quick kiss to the nape of Patrick’s neck, and pushes him back towards his father before following his mother out the back door.
Marcy has already made herself comfortable on the swinging seat on the porch. A glass of wine in her hand and a satisfied expression on her face.
“It’s nice, right?” David asks as he joins her, grabbing his own glass and taking a slow sip. They look out into the garden, glowing under the sinking sun. At the end, in the treeline, David spots a slinking animal figure and grins as he recognises their black rescue cat padding swiftly up towards the house.
Rose bounces up the porch steps and approaches David with a demanding -meow- as she waits for him to make room in his lap for her.
“You know, I always thought Patrick was more of a dog person,” Marcy says suddenly, watching as Rose paws at David’s sweatpants and then curls up, an almost unrecognisable ball of fluff and heat.
David nods slowly. “I understand why you would get that impression,” he says. “I sometimes think he is part golden retriever, what with all the energy and the early mornings.”
“You don’t quite understand, David. I always thought Patrick was more of a dog person, and so did his father. He just seemed to fit in with that expectation. We had this German Shepherd when Patrick was young, she was called Rosie, actually, funnily enough, and we always thought Patrick liked her just fine.”
David nods slowly, struggling to follow but not wanting to seem slow.
“We always thought that Patrick would be a dog person in his adulthood as well. I--” Marcy pauses as she opens her mouth and frowns. “You’re not following the metaphor at all, are you?”
“No, absolutely not, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” David says with a relieved sigh, wincing apologetically.
Marcy lets out a breathless laugh and shakes her head. “What I’m trying to say, David, is that, well, Clint and I have been married for over forty years, now.”
“Mm, I know, I was at the anniversary party. You made some of the strongest margaritas I have ever had in my life, and that’s a big deal because Elton John considered himself an expert in the art of getting his dinner guests to consume the highest amount of alcohol possible.”
Marcy gives the classic ‘Brewer confused by a Rose story’ blink of surprise but shakes herself free of it and continues.
“I would consider myself an expert on my husband. I know that his feet get cold in the winter but that he just wants to whine about it and will never wear socks in bed. I know that he’s afraid of airplanes and he copes with it by pretending that I am, and by trying to comfort me. I know that he’s always wanted to build a tree house but is too afraid of heights to ever actually do it. That’s what happens when you get married, David. You become the expert in your spouse.”
“I’m still not quite following.”
Marcy huffs out a frustrated laugh. “What you asked earlier, about whether or not Patrick will get bored of your life here, together. I can’t tell you the answer, because truthfully, even when I was the expert on all things Patrick, I still seemed to be wrong about things. What I can say is that marriage is a lot of work, but that I could make it work anywhere, as long as Clint was still at my side. Only you can say if you think you have that with Patrick.”
“I do--” David blurts out immediately. “I mean, I think- He’s really messy, you know? Like, Alexis levels of messy, but he tries really hard to keep on top of it because he knows it stresses me out. And he’s a massive baby when it comes to bugs, worse than me a lot of the time, but he still catches them for me and puts them outside when he used to kill them, because he knows I feel bad about it for ages when we kill one. And I genuinely think he hates romantic comedies, which would be unforgivable, except he sits through every single one I put on, just because they make me happy.”
When he looks back up, Marcy’s eyes are gleaming slightly, and he takes her hand when she reaches it out towards him, squeezing it tightly.
“A good marriage is boring, David. But it’s boring in the best possible ways.”
David opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, the back door is sliding open, and Patrick and Clint are heading out to join them.
“Top up?” Clint asks, already pouring before they can nod.
“There’s my daughter!” Patrick coos when he sees the cat curled up in David’s lap. “Where have you been all day, huh? You were out past curfew little miss,” he picks her up with little resistance, and holds her like a baby, pressing kisses to her forehead as he sits limply in his arms. “I would ground you, but you would probably get mad and bite me, huh?”
David watches with amusement as Patrick drenches their cat with affection, before placing her on the ground. She shakes herself and moves over to jump in through the cat flap, no doubt going to thoroughly wash herself after that whole ordeal.
“Your turn,” Patrick says, turning to him. “Come here, David.”
“No, no I was just joking, stop--” David insists, standing up and going to move away, but Patrick is already latched onto him, cuddling him close and kissing his cheeks sloppily even as David wriggles.
Patrick places a final kiss on his lips and pulls back, looking at David with what literally everyone seems to call his ‘smitten’ smile.
“Are you quite done?”
Patrick shrugs, his eyes already drawn back down to David’s lips. He kisses his husband once more before nodding and leading him to sit on the wicker seat next to the porch swing. “I told him one time that he gave the cat more affection than he gave me, and now he insists on doing that every single time,” David grumbles as an explanation to his in-laws, who share a knowing glance in response.
David leans into his husband as he shifts an arm around his shoulder and accepts the quick kiss Patrick places on his cheek as he does so.
Yeah, he thinks as he watches his in-laws laughing, he can work with boring.
***
Patrick looks up over the gaudy chocolate fountain in the corner of Alexis’ New York apartment and watches as his husband bickers with his sister.
David is waving his arms around about something, and Alexis is equally as bouncy. He blonde curls moving with her as she passionately explains something that Patrick has no doubt has very little importance.
So focused on his task of watching, Patrick almost jumps out of his skin as a hand claps onto his shoulder from behind. He turns to find his father-in-law looking at him with something akin to recognition; like he’s nostalgic for the very expression on Patrick’s face.
“How are you doing, son?”
Patrick lets out a breath and smiles. “I’m doing well. Well, I mean, half my time has been spent trying to stop David from eating the various pitted fruits on this table. He is under the impression that the chocolate would prevent him from having an allergic reaction and I really don’t feel up to a visit to the ER today.”
Mr Rose chuckles and nods. “I don’t think Alexis would like that much. I'm sure it would end up in a very messy argument about him stealing her spotlight."
They both look over at where Alexis has just stolen one of the cherries from David’s plate that he must have grabbed while Patrick’s back was turned. She chews with contempt, and David glares at her, grabbing a chocolate covered strawberry from her plate in retribution.
“It’s been a great party, Mr Rose. Alexis has really done herself proud, what with starting her own company all on her own. It’s really impressive, especially with all the obstacles in her way.”
“Well, Alexis never was one to shy away from a challenge.”
“Don’t I know it.” Patrick laughs, thinking back to the various Rose family stories; the kidnappings and international incidents he had heard of in the past, all of which seemed to have Alexis Rose firmly in the centre.
“Although saying that, nor have you.”
Patrick falters here, frowning in confusion. He’s never heard anyone describe him in such a way. Always in the past, Patrick has been the shy, well-meaning, polite young boy his parents raised him to be. He was kind, and considerate, and loyal, sure, but brave?
Mr Rose doesn’t seem surprised by his expression of confusion. In fact, he’s grinning, as if Patrick has just revealed something to him even without realising.
“You know, Patrick. When I was younger, I was a lot like you.”
“Oh, really?”
“Sure! Plucky, independent, reliable were all descriptors I used for myself but never brave. Never a risk-taker, or bold. Even when I first started dating Moira, I never considered that I might have been taking on more than people expected of me.”
Patrick nods slowly, starting to realise where this is going. “Oh, David isn’t a challenge to me, Mr Rose. In fact, I’d say it was probably the other way around. He’s had to be very patient with me, probably more than I’ve deserved.”
He finds himself reaching to fiddle with his wedding ring as if for security. Patrick had never understood David’s tendency to do so; to reach for his accessories as a source of comfort or an expression of nerves. That was, until he got married. The wedding ring symbolises so much more than their marriage; it symbolises David’s effect on his life, the way he is a changed man because of it, the way a part of him is always going to be tied to David.
The ring is David, and Patrick draws unlimited comfort from its presence on his finger.
“You know, sometimes, I wonder, how I could possibly be enough for him,” Patrick says, almost surprised by his own honesty. “I mean, David’s had it all right? He’s lived a life of luxury, he’s flown in like, a million social circles. He thrives under pressure, and he always has something to create. I mean, the store was his idea, his creativity, I just- How do I fit into all that?”
Mr Rose is smiling again, and suddenly he looks younger.
“I used to ask myself the same question. I think the thing you need to remember, is that with David, just as I have with Moira, well. Your life will never be boring.”
Patrick smiles. “I don’t think that will necessarily be a bad thing, Mr Rose.”
“No, it certainly isn’t. Just because we don’t run in their circles doesn’t mean that they will get bored, Patrick. In fact, the very fact that you are different from David is probably a good thing. You complement each other, the same way Moira and I do.”
“You really think that?”
Mr Rose looks confused by Patrick’s hesitance for a moment. “Anyone who has seen the two of you in a room together knows it. So, maybe it doesn’t make sense on paper, very few things do. It’s your differences that make you so compatible.”
“What are you saying?” Patrick asks, half a smile on his face though genuinely curious about the point.
“What I’m saying is, that David will always worry about being too much for you. And you will always worry about not being enough for David. But maybe, what you really need to focus on, is the ways in which you are just the right amount for each other.”
The explanation is messy, and Patrick can gather from Mr Rose’s awkward expression that it hadn’t come out quite in the meaningful way he had hoped, but he gets the gist.
“Thank you, Mr Rose.”
“That’s quite alright, son.”
“Um. What are you talking about over here?”
Patrick startles as his husband’s voice approaches and looks up to find David eyeing them suspiciously.
“You’re not telling horror stories about me, are you? It's too late, we're already married, he can't back out now,” he says. His tone is teasing, but Patrick catches him automatically reaching to twist his own wedding ring in a clear sign of anxiety.
“Not at all, David. Ooh, look, I believe that’s Ted over there. I’m just going to go and talk to him about his intentions with Alexis--”
Mr Rose excuses himself with a nod of the head and a polite smile, passing his plate to David as he does so and crossing the room to where Ted is clearly looking around for an escape route.
“What were you really talking about?”
Patrick opens his mouth to respond and then frowns as he watches his husband reach for one of the cherries on his father’s plate. “David!” he chides, slapping his hand away and glaring at him.
“What?”
But David is smiling again, and he steps forward to take his place at Patrick’s side, surveying the room together.
“It’s a good party, huh?” David says softly as they watch Alexis trying to get Mr Rose to leave Ted alone. “She’s good here, she suits it.”
“She does,” Patrick agrees, popping the cherry into his mouth so that David doesn’t get any other ideas. “Hey, you don’t have any second thoughts about- Well, about all this, do you?” he asks after a moment.
When he turns to look at David, the expression on his face is pure horror.
“What is there to regret?”
“I don’t know, I mean, compared to New York City, you don’t think Schitt’s Creek is kind of- boring? Do you?”
“Your Mom said something to me about that when they visited last,” David says, putting his paper plate down on a side table and moving to face his husband. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders, settling them there like a steady weight, anchoring himself in place.
“Mm? Did she now? What did she say?” Patrick asks, tilting his head up to meet David’s eye.
“Well once she’d finished telling me all about your flaws, and your Dad’s flaws, of which there are many. Did you know he’s afraid of airplanes too?”
“You’re getting side-tracked, David.”
“Sorry, she said that most of the best marriages are boring, but in the very best way.”
“That’s funny,” Patrick replies, dropping his voice slightly. “Your Dad just came over and told me that a marriage to you will always be interesting.”
David frowns and gets distracted as he tries to look over in the direction of his Dad, probably already thinking of how he’s going to get back at him for that statement. Patrick reaches one hand up to tilt his chin back, however, and catch his eye.
“Sounds like we might have to come up with our own rules about our marriage, huh?”
“Mm, I know how much you like rules,” David crows, leaning in to brush his lips against Patrick’s in a teasing kiss.
Patrick kisses back, enjoying the familiar feeling of being surrounded by his husband’s warmth, his scent, his embrace, before public decency reminds him that he should pull back.
“Did you ask my Mom if I would get bored of you?” Patrick asks, suddenly snapping his head back.
David makes a sound of frustration, as he always does when Patrick interrupts a kiss, but it soon shrinks into a guilty wince. “I may have had some concerns about whether or not married life would get- boring.”
Patrick lets this sink in, but for some reason, annoyance doesn’t follow. Instead, just a spreading warmth at the fact that his husband cared so much, and trusted his family to the extent that he would go to his mother-in-law for advice.
That doesn’t mean he won’t tease though.
“I’m sorry, boring for me? Or boring for you?”
“I will not be answering that question, but I will be reminding you that nothing about me will ever be boring.”
“Oh, I know, your Dad made sure I was well aware of that.”
“Alright,” David replies with attitude, but he’s grinning as he pulls his husband in for another kiss. “How is this for boring?”
“Mm, just the perfect amount.”