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Two weeks after David and Patrick finally kissed, Stevie makes her triumphant return to their regularly scheduled movie night, which is...fine. It’s fine. But, after having two perfect, blissful weeks with David all to himself... Patrick’s definitely going to have to make some adjustments tonight. He sets three rules to follow for this evening, hoping that in doing so, he can keep himself in line. 1. Don’t kiss David. 2. Don’t touch David. and finally… 3. Don’t even fucking look at David. It seems a bit strict, yes, but if they are going to go back to the way their movie nights played out before Patrick became familiarly acquainted with David’s lips, well...he needs to establish a few rigid guidelines to be able to make that happen. And also...Stevie doesn’t know about them.
It’s not that they have purposefully been hiding their… relationship?... their thing from Stevie, it’s just...Stevie has been M.I.A, like... literally. David is much closer to Stevie than he is, and Patrick is sure that David would have said something if she wasn’t okay, so, Patrick assumes she’s just been busy with other stuff. He’s not mad about it, obviously. It’s given David and him some time to connect after the first few... three, four, five ...kisses they shared that first night two weeks ago, but...the point still stands. Stevie doesn’t know about them. At least, Patrick doesn’t think she does, and he knows that making out with David during their friendly movie night is probably not the best way for her to find out, so… stick to the rules, Patrick.
Stevie and David arrive together a few minutes after 7:00, and Patrick’s trying very hard to follow rule number three, but David looks good . He looks so good tonight, wearing those acid washed jeans that hug his hips and thighs just right. His arms twitch to reach out and touch that soft, grey and black leopard print sweater that is stretched taut across David’s chest, so Patrick sets his next plan into motion - get everything set up. Get something in your hands other than David .
Stevie and David are talking about... something, but Patrick isn’t listening. He’s too busy reciting the three rules in his head over and over again. A few minutes later, they assume their regular places on Patrick’s bed. All three of them sit cross-legged with their backs against the wall, David closest to the door, Stevie in the middle, laptop propped up on her lap, and then Patrick, who takes what he thinks is his first breath in probably five minutes when they are finally situated. The distance between him and David is good. He’s good. He can do this.
“So,” Stevie’s fingers begin clacking against Patrick’s laptop as she pulls up Interflix and navigates immediately to the horror section. “As it is my turn to pick the movie tonight…” David groans beside her, and Patrick has to clamp his lips shut to hold in his laughter. “I have selected…” Stevie clicks the movie, but David’s voice rings over hers as the movie starts to load.
“Stevie! No! No, no, no. Absolutely not!”
The only part of David that Patrick can see are his flailing hands that make their way to the laptop, but Stevie bats them away before he can stop the movie.
“David. This is a children's film.”
“No it’s fucking not, Stevie, and you know it! This is the creepiest shit ever made!”
The title of the film appears on the screen, Coraline, and Patrick actually laughs out loud at that. He’s never seen it, but it’s animated. How scary can it be? A tingling warmth blossoms in his chest when he hears David’s, frankly, adorable little ‘hmph’ over the opening notes of the film, but then a doll is floating through the air, and... what the fuck is this?
They watch for maybe ten minutes, and Patrick has honestly never seen anything more bizarre in his life. It’s so...Stevie, and he sort of loves that. He’s actually somewhat invested in the story until he’s...until he’s not.
Manicured fingernails tickle up the back of his neck, sending a shiver down his spine. He turns his head just enough to see David’s arm stretched across Stevie’s shoulders, but when David’s long, elegant fingers start twisting through the curls at the nape of his neck, Patrick’s eyes snap shut, and he lets out a harsh breath.
When his eyes finally open again, he looks left, hoping to see more of David than just his arm, and he does. David’s profile comes into view as Stevie sort of slithers herself down against David’s body until her head rests on his shoulder, and Patrick... he wants that! Patrick shrugs his arms out, so he can cross them petulantly in front of his chest and pout the way he is almost sure he did as a child when he didn’t get his way.
“The fuck’s your problem, Brewer?” Oh, shit. His elbow must have nudged Stevie’s arm in the process.
Before he can respond, Stevie’s eyes dart to the back of his neck, and he can see the moment she notices exactly what David is doing.
Stevie elbows David in the ribs, hard, causing David’s fingers to retreat.
“Ow! Stevie! What the fuck!”
She hits pause on the movie, practically throws Patrick’s laptop into his lap and bounds off the bed, pacing back and forth, wearing a path into Patrick’s already worn, discount rug.
“Somebody want to tell me what the flying fuck is going on here!” Stevie’s eyes shift from David to Patrick who turn to look at each other from where they are still sitting on Patrick’s bed, but neither of them move to speak.
Finally, David’s attention returns to Stevie who is standing in the middle of Patrick’s room, hands on her hips, waiting. “Can you relax, please. It’s…”
“I swear to god, if you say ‘it’s fine,’ I will murder you.” Stevie cuts David off.
David’s mouth snaps shut. “Mhmm. Wow. Okay. Fine! Patrick and I are...uh…we’re, um…” Patrick watches David’s mouth twist around every syllable. He thinks he’s as eager to hear how David classifies their relationship as Stevie is. “...we sort of have…a thing.”
Stevie’s eyes grow comically wide, and her eyebrows that never seem to move...well, they move, clear up to her hairline. “I’m sorry. ‘A thing’? And you didn’t feel the need to share this information?”
Before David can respond, Stevie is moving. For two seconds, Patrick is relieved that she is not marching towards him with that death glare on her face, but.. oh shit...David. Stevie grabs at David’s legs until they uncross (“Stevie, stop.”). She gets a hold of David’s ankles and starts to pull. They’re both talking loudly over each other, now, and Patrick can only pick out the overly emphasized words - asshole...bitch...idiot...carnie...dickhead. David scrambles to grip at Patrick’s duvet, his feet kick to fight Stevie’s hold on him, but his butt is sliding closer and closer to the edge of the bed until...WHOMP!...David’s ass hits the, again, discount rug that doesn’t offer much cushion from the tile floor beneath it.
“You. Fucking. Bitch.” David finally manages to kick his feet loose. He pushes himself up onto his knees and flops forward onto his stomach to get a hand on Stevie’s ankle where she stands in front of him. The tug tests Stevie’s balance, but instead of falling on her ass, the force of the pull sends her down on top of David, and it’s a fucking train wreck, but Patrick can’t look away or stop the grin that has surely taken over his entire face from spreading even further. Seeing this new, inside look into David and Stevie’s relationship that he is not a part of, it’s...something. No, it’s fucking hilarious.
They are honest to God wrestling now, and Stevie...well, Stevie’s winning.
“You fucking troll!” David shouts. “Why? Why are you like this?”
“Me!” Stevie basically has David pinned to the ground, her hands hold his wrists on either side of his head, her thighs bracket David’s torso, locking him in place, but David continues to wiggle and thrash his arms, trying to struggle free. “You’ve been pining over this...this softy…”
“Softy?” Patrick mumbles to himself.
“...for months, and you what? Hook up? And you don’t fucking tell me! And you...you can’t keep your hands off of him for five fucking minutes?”
David bends his knees, drawing his heels up to his butt, pushing the soles of his feet into the carpet to try to leverage them to flip his and Stevie's positions, but his socks fail him. His feet slide out from under him, his legs crash back to the floor, and for a second, Patrick thinks he’s given up, but then…
“OH MY GOD! I wanted to touch my boyfriend! Sue me!”
The room is spinning. Fireworks are going off in Patrick’s mind (Boyfriend! Boyfriend! Boyfriendddd!!!!), but Stevie goes completely still. Her hands loosen their grip on David’s wrists, and she sits up. Her weight sinks into David’s stomach where her legs still straddle his torso. “Your boyfriend?”
Patrick can’t see Stevie’s face from where he is sitting, but the smile on her face is evident in the tone of her voice.
David closes his eyes and tries to take a deep breath, but Stevie’s weight on him must prevent him from doing that because... “Get. Off. Of me.” His voice is more gravelly, more rough than Patrick has ever heard it before, and it’s...it’s really doing things for Patrick.
Stevie stands, adjusting her tank top and smoothing her flannel back into place. She looks over to Patrick with a wicked grin, and he feels splayed open. Her gaze returns down to David who continues to lie motionless on the floor. “Well...if you wanted a night alone with your boyfriend , David, all you had to do was say so.” And with that, she is moving about the room, collecting her cross-body bag and sauntering towards the door.
“Best wishes.” David says to the ceiling.
Stevie’s head snaps back around. Her eyes meet Patrick’s and a knowing smirk plays at her lips. “Warmest regards.”
When the door finally clicks closed behind her, Patrick's mind replays the last two and a half minutes. What the fuck just happened?
“Um...David?”
“Hmm?” David’s head lifts off the floor for a moment before it thunks back down again.
Okay. Patrick scooches off of his bed, takes the two steps necessary to reach David and squats beside him. David’s head lolls to the side to meet Patrick’s gaze, but his lips are worried between his teeth. Why would he be...oh!
Patrick reaches a hand out to smooth over David’s side. “Boyfriend, huh?”
David purses his lips, deciding what he wants to say. “Um… yes? Is, uh...is that okay?”
Patrick lowers his knees to the floor and shifts his weight to one shin, so he can throw his other leg over David’s hips, straddling him as Stevie had been just minutes before, but David doesn’t fight it. David’s chin dips towards his chest, so he can see Patrick, and a small smile tugs at his lips.
“Oh, I think it’s much, much better than ‘okay’.” Patrick’s hands start their journey up David’s chest, but he stops when…
“...ah!”
“What?”
“Well...Stevie...God, that gremlin...she left bruises on more than just my ego tonight, I’m afraid, so…”
Patrick grabs the hem of David's shirt to push it up his chest and doesn’t see so much as a scratch on his boyfriend’s perfect skin. He pokes a finger at David’s rib where Stevie had elbowed him earlier, and David winces, more at the memory than any actual pain, Patrick assumes, as there is no physical trace of injury, but...nonetheless, his boyfriend is very, very cute like this. “Hmm...well, how about I kiss it, make it feel better?”
David lets out a content sigh, “mmm. I’d like that very much, yes.”
He lifts his arms, so Patrick can remove his sweater fully, and Patrick gets to work. If there weren’t any marks on his boyfriend’s body before...there are now.