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Patrick stared at his bottle of cologne. He sprayed it every morning before going to the store—their store—but should he today? Cologne used to be something he only used for date nights or special occasions, but when he moved to Schitt’s Creek six months ago and began exploring new things, he became a cologne at work guy. Was he a cologne on his day off but spending it on a vendor run with his business partner guy?
He’d also tried being a fancy cocktail guy, gave running a go, joined a book club, and flirted with men. Well, a man. A beautiful, complicated, brilliant, wonderful man.
Patrick had learned he preferred beer and wine over cocktails, running triggered his old baseball knee injury, the book club was a great way to meet people, and he really, really liked David Rose.
Picking up the cologne bottle, Patrick spritzed it. Maybe he was a daily cologne guy, not a cologne at work guy. A daily cologne guy who liked beer and books and men. He exited his bathroom and crossed the hall toward his room.
“Good morning, Patrick,” Ray said as he ascended the stairs.
“Hi, Ray. How did the house tour go?”
Ray opened his bedroom door and paused at the threshold. “Wonderful, thank you. I think they’re going to make an offer.” Ray beamed.
“That’s great. I’ll be out most of the day.”
“You’re not in your hiking clothes. Is the store open?” Ray’s eyebrows pulled together.
“David and I are going on a vendor run,” Patrick said with as much nonchalance as he could muster.
“Ah. I see.” Ray’s mustache twitched.
Patrick ignored the twitch. It twitched a lot whenever he mentioned David, which he didn’t think he did that often, but Ray’s mustache twitched a lot lately. “Have a great day, Ray.”
“You too, Patrick.” Was that a wink?
Patrick retreated to his room to grab his phone and wallet. After sliding those into his pockets, he walked over to his compact but well-organized (thanks to Ray) closet, and pulled out his usual Monday button-up. It was Monday, after all.
It was probably silly to rotate through his shirts every day, but ever since he’d read a book in college about minimizing unnecessary decisions to boost productivity, it worked. It was so different from David’s approach to clothes. David’s clothes seemed to match his mood. One of the things Patrick looked forward to every morning was making an initial guess of David’s mood as soon as he walked into the store fashionably late.
He started to put the shirt on, but his Thursday shirt caught his eye. The one that David had commented on a few weeks back and said the light color worked with his skin tone. He knew David had simply made an observation, and it wasn’t flirting, but still. The shirt made David think about Patrick’s skin tone.
Maybe once he could mix it up and wear his Thursday shirt on Monday. He could be the kind of guy who mixed up his shirts. He pulled the pale blue shirt on over his undershirt and felt better already.
I’ve got this. He spent nearly all day, every day, with David. They’d done lots of vendor runs since opening the store two months ago, and plenty of those had been together, but today felt different. Not that it was a special day, or it meant anything, but he was one day closer to cracking and telling David how he felt. He hadn’t found the nerve yet, but his nerves were dancing just out of reach, closer and closer to his fingertips. He’d reach them soon enough. Maybe even today.
Or tomorrow. Maybe tomorrow.
# # #
“Have fun on your little datey with your button,” Alexis said as she scrunched her face in a way that wasn’t nearly as cute as she thought it was.
“This is a professional outing for our business. For the last time, it’s not a date.” David clenched his jaw. He was tired of explaining that to his sister and Stevie. The pair of them were going to give him an ulcer, and he did not trust the healthcare options in the Greater Elms to deal with that.
He checked the time on his cell phone and ignored the fact that he was ready three minutes before Patrick was due to pick him up. That absolutely did not mean that he was eager to spend the day with his business partner and friend in a car to visit one of their furthest away vendors. Definitely not. He was simply thriving as a professional business person and was excited to meet with one of his favorite vendors and pitch a new deal with her.
David definitely hadn’t carefully curated a road trip playlist that included a couple of Patrick’s favorite songs. The ones David could tolerate, anyway. He also definitely hadn’t stayed up after Alexis fell asleep last night to look for a restaurant with an allegedly decent Reuben sandwich because Patrick loved those, but refused to eat the “vile excuse for a Reuben” at Café Tropical. He smiled to himself as he remembered the tirade Patrick went on about it after he’d ordered one two months ago. It had been one of the rare times David had seen Patrick indignant about something. The way his nose scrunched up and jaw set was the cutest fucking thing.
“Are you getting those peanut butter things from the farm witches?”
David glared at his sister and flared his nostrils. “No! I’ve told you thrice that we’re going to Edgerton, not to the farm witches.” Two hours each way. At least four hours in a car with Patrick. Four glorious hours.
"That's a lot of quality time with Patrick," she said, filing her fingernails and not looking up.
David ignored her.
"You two spend, like, a lot of time together. Are you worried he'll get tired of you?"
He bared his teeth at her. Leave it to his sister to jump right at one of his biggest worries.
Alexis looked up and the expression on her face was alarmingly soft. He braced himself. "I worried about that with Ted. I guess it means something when they don't get tired of you."
All he could do was swallow through the thickness in his throat. Thankfully he heard a car rumble outside their door.
“Have fun.” Alexis double-blinked at him.
“Swallow a rusty sword.” He slid his phone into his pocket, smoothed out his hair one more time, then left his room. Butterflies erupted in his stomach as soon as he saw Patrick smiling from the other side of his windshield. David’s cheeks tugged back, revealing his teeth without his permission.
Patrick leaned across the car and opened the passenger door, which was dorky and adorable.
“Hi,” David said, as he slid into the passenger seat.
“Hey. Excited for our road trip?” Patrick’s smile was wide and easy, like he didn’t mind he was stuck with David on their one day off.
It was infectious, and David couldn’t get enough. “Mm, I am.” He tore his attention from Patrick’s loud eyes and took in a quick glance at his shoulders. David loved his shoulders. He spent half of his time with Patrick, actively stopping himself from brushing his fingertips over the top of them. He’d come so close to touching his shoulders a couple of weeks ago when he, Stevie, Alexis and Patrick had gone to the Wobbly Elm. He’d pulled his hand back inches from their target. That had been a close call, and Stevie had teased him about it mercilessly ever since.
“You’re wearing your Thursday shirt,” David said like an idiot who left his filter back in his room to hang out and have a party with his shame and chill.
Patrick looked down, and David nearly sucked in a breath when Patrick looked back up. The unguarded earnestness Patrick displayed knocked David back daily. “My Thursday shirt?”
David waved a hand and looked away. “Yeah. You know, your shirt rotation.” He risked a glance at Patrick once they exited the parking lot and found Patrick smiling in that frowning sort of way he did sometimes. David bit his bottom lip to hide his grin and looked out the passenger window.
“I didn’t realize my shirt rotation was so obvious.” Patrick sounded delighted.
“As if I wouldn’t notice something about fashion.”
“Are you calling me fashionable, David?”
“Mm, definitely didn’t say that. Clothes. I notice things about clothes.” Especially clothes on people with shoulders like Patrick’s and thick thighs and curvy asses.
They settled into conversation as Patrick drove them toward Edgerton.
In the middle of a rant about how Alexis stole his eucalyptus eye serum and used the last of it, he realized an hour had passed. Not only had he not yet felt the urge to start his playlist and fill any awkwardness with music, he had fallen easily into talking about anything and everything. Ranting about his family, teasing Patrick about his pairing of a button-up with mountaineering shoes, and arguing over the merits (or lack thereof) of Adam Sandler movies.
They hadn’t talked about the store once. Even more than that, Patrick listened to David talk about his family and go off on ridiculous tangents. He listened and responded and, for some godforsaken reason, he didn’t seem to mind. Patrick asked thoughtful questions and gave David well-deserved shit.
David was used to people not even bothering to hide the fact they weren’t listening, but not Patrick. It felt like David’s life had become a series of “but not Patrick” moments that were quickly molding into a giant snowball of affection for the man. Deep, terrifying, unwavering affection.
“But if she’s using your eye stuff, doesn’t that mean she thinks you have good taste?” Patrick glanced at David before dutifully returning his attention to the road. Since when was safe driving sexy?
He glared at Patrick. Of course Patrick would figure out a way to frame it so it slowly released David’s annoyance like poking a hole in a balloon. “What’s the point of having good taste if I have to buy new eye cream?” He crossed his arms over his chest and looked out the window to hide his grin.
“So you’d rather have bad taste and plenty of eye cream?”
“I didn’t say that,” David snapped.
Patrick laughed in that delighted, indulgent way he did so often these days.
David smiled to himself as he watched the fields pass by. His stomach growled and interrupted the momentary quiet.
“I packed some snacks if you’re hungry,” Patrick casually mentioned, like he wasn’t the most thoughtful person in the world.
David turned and looked in the backseat. “Snacks? What kind of snacks?”
“You’ll have to look for yourself.”
He pulled a reusable (of course) Brebner’s grocery bag from the floorboards. He gasped. “The parmesan pretzels! I love these.” David tore into the unopened bag.
Patrick laughed. “I know. It was those and chocolate-covered almonds and gummy bears or stale muffins from the cafe.”
“You got gummy bears too?” He rummaged through the bag. Sure enough, he found the fancy European gummy bears that David picked up when he felt like a splurge. Patrick bought his favorite snacks for their little day trip together. How had he gotten so lucky to end up with someone so thoughtful in his life? Thoughtful and attentive.
Considerate acts like that left David wondering if maybe Patrick was showing David that he liked him. Like, like liked him. “Thank you,” David said quietly as he held out the pretzel bag for Patrick. “This was really nice of you.”
“It’s no problem.” Patrick blushed a little as he reached in the bag and pulled out a few.
David wished he could feed the pretzels to Patrick, but that wasn’t a thing business partners did. “I can’t believe you didn’t get stale muffins and Reubens, though. We could have dined like kings.”
“The stuff the cafe puts on their ‘Reuben’ could hardly be called sauerkraut.” Patrick pulled a hand away from two o’clock on the wheel to do air quotes. “It’s an abomination of a classic sandwich. The sauerkraut is what holds the sandwich together. Without it, it’s not a Reuben.” His jaw tensed. “Maybe I could find a sauerkraut supplier for Twyla. Do you think she’d let me?”
David bit his lips between his teeth as he watched Patrick get all worked up over a sandwich. “I think that’s great problem solving.”
“You’re humoring me.”
David couldn’t hold back the laugh. “Why would I do that?”
Patrick looked over at him and glared. “Need I remind you of the meatloaf incident?”
“Okay, rude.” David tucked his smile to the corner of his mouth. “I think there’s a restaurant near Janet’s that has an allegedly decent Reuben. If, um, you’d like to grab lunch before we head back to Café Tropical territory.”
“You found a place with a Reuben?”
“Not just a Reuben, but a Reuben called ‘surprisingly delicious for the middle of nowhere Ontario’ by a Yelp reviewer.”
“Glowing review.” Patrick laughed. “I love that idea, except.”
David’s heart sank. Of course Patrick didn’t want to spend all day with him. Maybe he only offered to join David on the trip to make sure David didn’t mess it up or something. “Except?” He looked out the passenger window.
“Except I found a restaurant that had truffle fries called ‘the best I’ve had since those ones in Vegas.’ Clearly high praise and difficult to pass up.”
David whipped his head around to face Patrick. “You found a place with truffle fries?” David’s heart tentatively resumed its default position.
“You mentioned a couple of weeks ago that you missed the ones you used to get in New York. I know it won’t be the same, but—”
“But that sounds amazing. Thanks,” David said quietly. He wasn’t used to someone listening to him and remembering things he said and doing nice things. It wasn’t fair, really. Patrick made it impossible not to be completely smitten over him. David’s constant pining was completely Patrick’s fault.
“When we park, we’ll have to rock, paper, scissors to decide which restaurant to go to.”
“You’re on. I won Alexis’s freedom at an underground fight club with best of three.”
Patrick gaped at him. “What kind of life have you lived?”
“Oh, honey, we don’t have time for that.”
David’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he saw Stevie's name.
“Everything okay? You’re frowning.”
David looked up at Patrick. The last thing he needed was a permanent forehead wrinkle caused by Stevie. “Just Stevie being Stevie.”
“Giving you a hard time?”
“Obviously. Like it’s her part-time job.” David huffed and put his phone away.
“I’m sure she’d happily do it full time, but the motel, you know. That’s why I help out on a part-time basis so there’s full coverage.”
“You’re such a troll.” David’s mouth twitched.
“Part time troll.” Patrick didn’t look away from the road, but David could clearly see his playful smile in the way his ear wiggled.
David’s phone buzzed again, and he prepared to give Stevie hell, but it wasn’t Stevie.
“It’s Janet.” He quickly read the text from the vendor they were on their way to visit. “She said there’s a family emergency, and she had to leave. She sent directions on where to find the boxes and said she left a key to the house under her mat in case we need the bathroom. Said to help ourselves to the cookies she baked for us.” David’s stomach growled. He loved cookies.
“I hope everything’s okay with her family.”
Of course Patrick’s first thought was for her family. A normal and kind human would think of that first instead of the inconvenience and the missed opportunity to negotiate a new deal. “Mm, yes. I hope so.”
He sent a quick reply, telling her not to worry.
“She said there’s a river on her property that she was going to show us. She said we can check it out if we want to.” David had seen rivers before and couldn’t imagine how hers was special. At least this way they could skip it and the risk of muddy shoes without offending her.
“A river? That sounds awesome.” Patrick beamed at him.
Uh oh.
# # #
If Patrick was unnecessarily flexing his arms as he carried the boxes from Janet's studio to his car, that would be his secret. If he caught David glancing at his arms a time or two, well. He hoisted the last box up and walked back to his car.
David came out of Janet's front door, holding a napkin bundle in one hand. “Need any help?”
Patrick laughed to himself as he slid the box into his trunk. He closed the trunk, turned around, and made a show of brushing off his hands. “Perfect timing. I’m all done.”
David hitched out one of his hips and dropped a hand on it. His long fingers curved around the snug fit of his black skinny jeans. “I don’t like what you’re implying.”
Patrick pulled his attention from David’s fingers to his face. “I don’t think I was implying anything. I think you were purposefully exploring her studio and her home while I loaded the car.”
David’s mouth fell open. Patrick loved few things more than when he was able to shock David silent.
“And since I did all the work, I think that means my reward should be a nice leisurely stroll to the river.” He looked over to the west, where Janet had directed them via text.
“Mmkay, enjoy that.” He unwrapped the napkin bundle. "I grabbed cookies and was going to share with you, but not if you're going to be rude. I'll keep these cookies to myself."
Patrick strode over to David, plucked one of the cookies from his hand, and took a large bite. The chocolate melted in his mouth. He loved watching David's eyes widen. He could almost hear David said, the audacity, Patrick. How dare you.
"Excuse you," David finally managed. That worked too.
“David, I think you need to join me. What if Janet asks what you thought of the river? You can’t lie. You’re a terrible liar.”
“I’m not a terrible liar!” David’s eyebrows shot skyward.
“No? Convince me you like my shoes.” Patrick crossed his arms over his chest and widened his stance.
“Your shoes.” David grimaced.
Patrick kicked out one leg, and David’s attention snapped to his leg. He’d caught David looking at his legs a few times, he thought. In the moments where he allowed himself to hope that maybe David was interested in him, at least a fraction of the amount he liked David, he thought David might like his legs. Maybe his thighs. He’d been told by Rachel and a few other girls that they liked his thighs. Maybe David was a thigh guy? Patrick sure liked David’s thighs. Not just his thighs, but every bit of his long, lean legs.
“You want me to convince you I like your shoes.”
“Repeating my words back to me isn’t very convincing.”
David shook out his hands, which turned into a full body wiggle. He loved the wiggles almost as much as he loved the shimmies. He’d received a David Rose shoulder shimmy three times. Once when Patrick returned from Elmdale with muffins from David’s favorite bakery, once when David was tipsy and Patrick walked over with another polar bear shot, and once after David told one of his shocking former life stories about a party he went to. The shoulder shimmy left Patrick reading between the lines that David had slept with a Skarsgard. Patrick couldn’t be further from a Skarsgard if he tried. He forced that thought out of his mind.
“Your shoes are, um, practical. And very brown.” David squinted as he said the words, and his bottom lip tugged back into some weird grimace/smile hybrid.
God, Patrick liked him so much. “I don’t believe I asked for a description of them.”
David let out an annoyed huff and stormed off toward the trail. “Fine. Let’s go see the fucking river.”
He followed because he would probably follow David anywhere, which was a scary thought when pining over one’s business partner.
They were about halfway down the path to the patch of trees lining the river’s edge when David looked up to the sky. “It looks like it’s getting dark and sketchy.”
He looked up. “It’s fine, David. The forecast said it wouldn’t rain until tonight.”
David looked over his shoulder at Patrick. “What are you, some sort of Campfire Scout?”
He laughed. “Boy Scout? I was, yeah. Surprised?”
David looked back again and flashed a teasing smile. “Not in the least. Do you know how to start a fire?”
“I do. I also know about a dozen different ways to tie a knot and how to spot poison oak and poison ivy in the wild.”
“All very important skills. I know how to tie a few kinds of knots myself, but I definitely didn’t learn that in the Boy Scouts. It was from a boy in uniform, though.”
Patrick tugged at the collar of his shirt and focused on trying not to trip over his feet as they walked the rest of the path. He was very interested in David’s knot-tying skills.
“Oh wow, this is beautiful,” Patrick said once they reached the water’s edge.
The river was only about a foot or so deep in spots. It didn’t move fast, but there was a drop off a nearby edge that added the sound of rushing water. It looked like the kind of place his dad would love to fish at.
“Oh my god, look! An alpaca!” David pointed to the other side of the river.
Patrick spotted the brown, wooly creature. “Isn’t that a llama?”
“Llamas are bigger and their face is longer. See how that one has a more blunt face? Kind of smooshed? That’s a sign of an alpaca.” He looked at the animal for a long moment with a calculating expression. “I wonder if they do anything with the wool. Might be worth checking with them for the store.”
Patrick arched an eyebrow. David surprised him with the oddest pockets of knowledge sometimes.
“What? It was a rocky trip to Peru that I’d rather not revisit. There were a lot of alpacas.”
“Okay, David.” He smirked at David, and David smirked back. That dimple would be the death of him.
“This is actually quite lovely,” David said. “Perfect place for a picnic.”
“You’re right. That rock formation is like built-in seats and a table. A picnic with some cheeses, maybe prosciutto and cured meats.”
“Ooh, the stuff we sampled from Rick paired with that dill havarti.” David turned toward Patrick.
Patrick turned to face him, and his pulse quickened. “The rosemary crackers too. And those peanut butter squares from the Mennonite farm. With some cabernet?”
One side of David’s mouth turned up. “That sounds like a perfect picnic.”
“It does.” Patrick swallowed the lump in his throat. He could do this. Let’s have that picnic. Would you go on a picnic like that with me? Want to join me at a picnic at the creek back home? “Since, uh, since we have that stuff at the store.” He couldn’t look away from David’s piercing eyes. David had basically teed it up, and all Patrick had to do was swing. “I was wondering if- uh, if—”
“What the fuck is that?!” David wiped at his face.
“Huh?” His heart pounded in his ears.
“Rain! I think it’s raining!”
Patrick tilted his face to the sky, and a fat raindrop landed in the middle of his forehead. Within seconds, several more joined and raindrops began peppering his face.
David let out a strangled cry like they were under attack from sniper alpacas or something. “It’s raining! You said it wasn’t going to rain!” David bolted back down the path.
Patrick didn’t realize he could move that fast. “Let’s get back to the car before it gets worse.”
David looked back at him with a deadly glare. “Obviously,” he hissed.
Damn rain. He was seconds away from finally asking David on a date, and now, instead, he’d be beating himself up, possibly for the rest of time, if David’s sweater was ruined. He’d been so confident in the forecast. All he’d been thinking about was checking out a pretty spot with David and trying to create some sort of moment for them.
He’d created a moment, all right, just not the kind he wanted.
# # #
The rain pelted them as they hurried toward the closest shelter. Janet’s tiny production studio would have to cover them until they figured out a game plan.
David would run, but he was too worried about slipping in the now-wet trail and getting his clothes wet and muddy. Wet was maybe salvageable, wet and muddy would be a total loss.
After a few minutes of cloud assault, the studio was in sight. He moved through the torrential rain and tried to hold the hem of his sweater so it didn’t stretch with the added weight.
“I’m sorry, David,” Patrick called from behind him.
“It’s fine,” David tossed back over his shoulder. Almost there. As soon as the path turned from mud to gravel, David jogged the rest of the way.
He pulled the key out of his pocket that Janet had left them, and unlocked the studio. He pushed open the door and moved out of the way so Patrick could get inside.
“Where the hell did all of that rain come from?” He looked down at his sweater. Shit. If he kept it on, he wouldn’t be able to stop it from permanently stretching. He carefully pulled it off and hurried over to the tiny sink in the corner. David gently began squeezing the bulk of the water from the fragile material of one of his favorite Givenchy sweaters. In his old life, he would’ve tossed it and bought a new one. Now? He probably wouldn’t be able to afford that kind of carelessness ever again.
Movement caught David’s eye, and he turned to see Patrick next to him, looking stricken as he stared at the sweater.
“Is it ruined?” Patrick asked in a quiet voice. “I’m so sorry. Really. I didn’t think it would rain already. I checked two apps this morning. I should’ve listened to you.” Patrick took a shaky breath. Drops of water fell from his nose and ears, but he didn’t even seem to notice. His wet hair curled at the ends. David would love to see him grow out his hair a bit if he had curls like that. Patrick was soaking wet, but didn’t seem to notice anything but David’s sweater. “I know how important your clothes are to you, and this sweater is one of your favorites.” He looked up at David with his enormous, sad eyes.
David couldn’t find words. No one had ever looked at him like that. No one had ever cared about his clothes beyond the label and season. He knew clothes didn’t mean the same to Patrick. How could they for someone who willingly wore braided belts? But Patrick clearly understood how important they were to David, and since they were important to David, they were important to Patrick.
Wow. Okay.
He placed the sweater in the sink and turned to face Patrick. The soaked button-up clung to Patrick’s shoulders like a second skin. David balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grabbing those shoulders. The pale fabric was nearly sheer against Patrick’s pink, flushed, kissable skin. The pert point of his nipples poked through.
David forced himself to redirect his attention to Patrick’s face and found Patrick’s attention on David’s wet undershirt.
Patrick licked his lips, then looked up at David’s face. His pupils had taken over.
“It’s okay,” David whispered.
“It’s not. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t make it rain. Really, it’s fine.” David took a step forward and lifted his hand. His hand, the traitorous shit, landed on Patrick’s shoulder. He didn’t let himself look at how his fingers cupped the shoulder perfectly and how his skin looked against Patrick’s. It was just a reassuring touch for a friend who was clearly upset. Definitely not David being a creep and trying to cop a feel and get some broad shoulder action. “I think I’ll be able to save it. You checked the forecast. It’s not your fault whoever wrote it is an idiot.”
One side of Patrick’s mouth twitched. Progress.
“Maybe our business insurance will cover a replacement? I’ve been eyeing the new Neil Barrett collection.”
“Of course you have.” Patrick reached out and squeezed David’s bicep of the arm not clutching Patrick’s shoulder for dear life. Patrick looked down at David’s arm and sucked in a breath.
David flexed. He wasn’t proud of it, but he couldn’t help it. Patrick tugged part of his bottom lip under his front teeth. Huh.
“Patrick?”
Patrick looked up at him. Hair dripping, cheeks pink, eyes wild, breath shallow. He’d never looked more beautiful.
“Don’t worry about the sweater. I’m glad we visited the river.”
Patrick stepped toward David. “Yeah? You’re not mad?”
“I’m mad at the person who put the forecast together, but not you. Never you, Patrick.” He swallowed at the unplanned admission.
“David,” Patrick said his name like a prayer.
He couldn’t stand living another minute without knowing the feel of Patrick’s lips. The hand clutching Patrick’s shoulder slipped around the back of his neck. David paused, giving Patrick a moment to step back.
Patrick dropped the hand holding David’s arm and wrapped both arms around his waist.
David leaned in and closed his eyes, trusting that Patrick would be there to catch him. Patrick was always there to catch him. Ever since B13.
Patrick caught him with the softest lips David had ever kissed. Their bodies gravitated toward each other like every moment of their lives had been building to that moment, to each other. The kiss was chaste and perfect. Absolutely perfect.
“Wow,” Patrick said, resting his forehead against David’s.
“Yeah.”
“Finally.”
David straightened. “Finally?”
All traces of Patrick’s stress were gone and replaced by that teasing arrogance David loved. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you used ‘branded immersive experience’ unironically.”
David’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding.”
“Definitely not kidding. Thank you for making that happen for us, David.” Patrick leaned in and kissed David again with a bit more intensity.
“What can I say? I’m a very generous person.” David wrapped his arms more tightly around Patrick’s shoulders. Shoulders he could now touch with wild abandon and would as soon as he was willing to add a little air between their damp shirts and cold chests. Not yet, though. “But, um, me too. I’ve thought about kissing you a lot.”
Patrick beamed at him and kissed a spot under his jaw. David, being a generous person, tilted his head to give Patrick more access.
“This is one of those perfect moments you dream about, except in my dream I’m eating a chocolate chip cookie and truffle fries,” David said, then hummed as Patrick rubbed his cheek against the stubble on David’s neck.
Patrick’s hold tightened further around David’s waist. “I thought we were going to rock, paper, scissors for it.”
“Mm, I guess.” He pulled Patrick into a hug. He’d thought about hugging Patrick so many times since their first and only hug. That fucking flickering light. “One more minute.”
“Okay, David.”
David inhaled a long breath and leaned into the warmth and relaxation of Patrick’s solid body wrapped around his own. The scent of his hair was familiar and soothing. “Is that bergamot and sage?”
“You said you liked the smell so I bought it.”
David pulled back so he could look at Patrick’s face. “You bought shampoo from the store because I said it smelled good?”
Patrick looked at David like he’d been waiting years for David to catch up. “David, you have no idea the depth of the dumb shit I’ve done to get you to notice me. And like me.” He looked down. “To feel close to you.”
David’s heart grew three sizes. “I notice you, Patrick. I have since we met.”
Patrick’s mouth turned into that frown smile. “It’s a shame you didn’t tell me that sooner. Could’ve kept using my three-in-one shampoo, condi—”
David shut him up with a kiss. The first of many, many, many kisses that day. Kisses that tasted like chocolate cookies and truffle fries and Reuben sandwiches—lucky for them, it turned out to be the same restaurant—and hope and new beginnings and like a flicker of something that would eventually be love.