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“David, wake up.”
“Mmph.” David cracks one eye open to see his husband hovering over him, a soft smile on his face. He blinks, stretching the crick out of his back as Patrick moves back to sit on the foot of the bed — the Brewers’ house is lovely and cosy, but the mattress on their spare bed leaves something to be desired. “What’s up?”
“There’s something I want to show you.”
“Mmkay, and it couldn’t wait until—” He picks up his phone, squinting blearily at the lock screen. The time is right there, in large numbers above a photo of him and Patrick dancing at the wedding, but— “Patrick, what the fuck? It’s the middle of the night!”
“7am is not the middle of the night, David.”
“It’s still dark outside!”
“Well, it’s Ontario in the middle of winter.” Patrick grins, squeezing his ankle through the covers. “Come on, up you get. Put something warm on. You can nap in the car.”
It’s very annoying that after almost four months of marriage, Patrick already knows the exact tone that will make David do exactly what he wants. He drags himself out of bed, grumbling at the cold as he pulls on the warmest clothes he can find from a quick rummage through his suitcase, and follows Patrick out the door of the bedroom.
Marcy is in the kitchen, and she shows a remarkable lack of curiosity about where they’re going, which makes David realise this— this ambush was planned. But she does hand David a thermos with a smile and a pat on the cheek, and when he takes a sip he realises she’s made his coffee perfectly, so he magnanimously decides to forgive her for not warning him that her son is a menace.
Not that he didn’t know that already.
He does doze off in the car, so he has no idea how long it is before Patrick is shaking him gently awake for the second time that day. It’s not a habit he’s going to encourage Patrick to get into.
“David, we’re here.”
David scrubs a hand over his eyes before looking out the windshield to figure out where they are. They’re parked up on the shore of a lake, the darkness having eased enough that he can make out the shapes of the trees on the opposite side, and he glances at Patrick, confused.
“Come on, sleepyhead.” Patrick unbuckles his seatbelt before getting out of the car, and David does the same. He stumbles out of the car while Patrick opens the trunk, pulling out a blanket and—
“Is that a picnic basket?”
Patrick glances up at him. “I thought we could have breakfast out here.” He places the blanket on top of the basket so his hand is free to close the trunk again, and then he sets off towards the lake, leaving David no choice but to follow.
“Just don’t step on any branches, honey.”
“Okay, okay.” Even though Patrick is ahead of him, David can hear the grin even under the grumbling at the well-worn teasing. He stands, arms wrapped around himself, while Patrick spreads out the blanket and starts pulling food out of the basket — croissants, ham and cheese, what looks like the fancy organic orange juice.
David lowers himself onto the blanket, taking the plate Patrick hands him. “When did you set all this up?”
“While you were trying to teach my dad the finer points of Drag Race last night.” Patrick hands him the croissants before opening the packet of ham. “I just… wanted to bring you here.”
David looks at him for a long moment, sure there’s more to it, but Patrick ducks his head and starts busying himself assembling their breakfast. David’s learned that the best way to make Patrick open up is to give him time so he stays quiet, pouring juice into two little plastic cups before he starts putting his own croissant together. They tap their glasses together with a smile, eating in silence as the sun rises slowly over the lake, and even David can admit as he eats that it’s stunning.
Maybe even, very occasionally, worth getting up in the middle of the night for.
“So, I used to come here a lot.” The words are so close to the start of Patrick’s proposal speech that it immediately brings tears to David’s eyes, and he blinks them away quickly. “When Rachel and I were fighting, when my job was boring me to tears, when I felt so unsettled in my own skin and I didn’t know why. I’d come here, and I’d sit by this lake, and it was… it was the only place I felt like I could just relax. I felt more like myself here than I did anywhere else.” He glances over at David, his eyes soft. “Until I met you.”
David chokes back a sob. He’ll never understand how Patrick can just say the most emotionally devastating things like they’re nothing, like they’re deserved.
Patrick reaches over, taking David’s hand and pressing a kiss to each of the four gold rings that now adorn his right hand so as not to distract from the wedding band on his left. “I wanted to bring you here because— because you brought me the kind of peace I used to dream about.”
“Oh, my god.” David swipes at his eyes with his free hand, but it does nothing to stop the flow of tears. “It is too early in the morning for this much sentimentality.”
Patrick laughs. “Sorry, David.” But he’s not sorry at all, David can see it in the way his eyes dance and his mouth is twisted into that downturned smile. He leans over to kiss Patrick, messy and tear-stained and wonderful, and tries not to think about a younger version of his husband sitting in this spot and not knowing what wasn’t fitting.
When they finally break apart Patrick just stares at him, eyes full of wonder. “Thank you for coming here with me.”
“Okay, you didn’t actually give me a choice?” At Patrick’s laugh, David drops his head onto Patrick’s shoulder, turning back to look out over the lake. “But I’m glad you made me.”
Patrick kisses the top of his head. “Me too, David.”