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“David, I…”
His friend’s shift in tone has David curious. He turns his attention to him across the table.
Patrick is not making eye contact, instead staring down at the table where his fingers are picking at the decayed wood. He opens and closes his mouth, but nothing comes out.
David looks around, unsure where Patrick’s sudden nervousness has come from. Other camp counsellors are scattered across the field, some finishing up with dinner, others caught in reunion-like embraces. It’s the first weekend of the season and some people here haven’t seen each other since last summer. Similar to David and Patrick.
He glances back to see if Patrick has figured out what he wants to say. Patrick let’s them make eye contact for a moment, and it’s unsettling to say the least. Of the two, it’s usually David who has trouble formulating his thoughts into words on a daily basis. Patrick’s struggle comes off as… urgent and stressful.
“David, I just. I wanted to tell you something.”
“Okay…?” He nods in slow motion, confused but not wanting to discourage Patrick.
Either that isn’t the response he was hoping for, or he just hadn’t thought that far ahead, because Patrick looks away again and goes back to analyse the food on his plate.
David watches carefully, eyeing down the onion rings on his friend’s plate that he was planning on asking for later. His own plate is empty now, so he can’t even stress eat as he waits.
He taps his foot instead. Something to get the edge off, but out of eye sight so as not to rush Patrick. Sometimes he just needs a moment to get it together, and David of all people understands that.
“I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, and we know each other very well,” Patrick starts up again, except now he sounds like he’s continuing a conversation he’s started in his head. Completely leaving David in the dark as to any context whatsoever.
“Patrick, I’m going to need a couple of more words from you. What in god’s name are you even talking about?”
Patrick stares back painfully, pleading to be understood via telepathy or something.
David just tries to school his expression into something accepting, receptive, friendly. Whatever helps.
“I’m just- I’m trying to say I like you. I like-” he coughs, “like you.”
At that, he breaks eye contact again.
David takes a breath, and then another. He nods encouragingly, trying to look like he understood Patrick’s message when in reality he didn’t gain any piece of information he thought he would.
Patrick is leaning far back in his seat now, breathing heavily like he just ran to get here.
“Okay, you like me, and?”
Patrick's eyebrows scrunch up, confused. He gives David this look, 'that’s it, that’s what I was trying to say.'
David goes back over it in his head. Having to read between the lines now that it’s clear his lifelong seasonal friend isn’t going to give him any more explanation.
Really, all the words he’s said include that they’re friends, they know each other, and they like each other.
Which, yea, makes sense.
David and Patrick have known each other for decades. They’ve been strangers, enemies, acquaintances, friends… you name it. Not even particularly in that order. They have been attending Schitty Rose Camp since before David can even remember. So, it makes sense that after all these years together, Patrick would enjoy spending his time with David.
It’s just… David has a feeling that’s not exactly what he’s admitting here. There’s something between the lines that he has to decipher.
Redirecting his attention back to Patrick’s demeanour, he takes in his hunched over posture and furrowed brows. He’s taking up so little space on his seat, the confidence David is so used to associating with him is completely erased.
I like you.
He mulls over the words for a third time. Turning them back and forth, upside down and sideways in his head. Trying to make them make sense…
Wait.
Wait.
I like you.
That’s what he said, Patrick, with all the weight of the world behind him.
I like you.
As in, something more than friends?
“Uh…” David’s throat is suddenly nonfunctional. He swallows painfully, wishing he had water on hand. “Sorry, it’s just…” he frowns.
“David, it’s fine, it’s nothing. I mean it’s not nothing but it’s not a big deal. You know?” For someone who couldn’t put three words together, Patrick seems to be very talkative now. He looks paler than usual, nerves getting the best of him now that he’s sure David has understood him.
David looks everywhere but at him. He observes the crowd behind Patrick, envying the carefree way with which they’re laughing loudly. David’s heart beats even faster.
“David…” he tunes back in enough to notice Patrick’s hand reaching across the table. He’s going for David’s own hand. Maybe to get his attention, or to comfort him. More likely the later, given the concerned frown he’s now sporting.
He flinches, tucking his hand into his lap quickly, not wanting to accept the gesture. Why would David be the one needing comfort? Patrick’s the one who just laid his heart out on the table. David should move. React. Speak. Something, why can’t he comfort Patrick?
Suddenly, David is standing up. His chair topples over with the force of it. “Shit…” He feels silly for being clumsy, wanting even more and more to hightail it out of here. He grabs the chair and tucks it back under the table.
“Dav…” Patrick starts to protest but David already has his empty plate in hand and is stepping away backwards. He needs to get out of here but he can’t take his eyes off the hurt expression on Patrick’s face.
Fuck.
He spins and pushes his way through a crowd, needing to get out of the dining hall and back to the sleeping cabins as soon as possible. Thankfully, it’s not that far.
When he barges into the cabin, he’s not happy to see there are others scattered about, unpacking their things and chatting in the corners. He’d like a quiet place to sit and think but this is what he’s dealt. He’ll have to make do by anxiously yet quietly unpacking his bag.
Earlier, he’d tossed his duffel bag onto a bed by the exit and a decently sized window to call dibs. Small luxuries around camp are rare, so all the counsellors and camp goers tend to honour the unofficial first come first serve system they have in place. He hadn’t bothered unpacking, however, when Patrick’s text pinged in his pocket to let him know he’s already here and in line for dinner.
He was so eager to run over there and not just for the promise of food. Yea, him and Patrick hadn’t always been the best of friends. But recently, as adults, they really seemed to be supportive of one another. Sure, they lived on opposite sides of the country. But they could always count on one another to be a single phone call away.
Silly. Silly that David was so eager to reunite with his friend. He should have kept some distance. Because now… Patrick went and… he just doesn’t know what to make of this information. So he’ll ignore it.
He shakes a sweater angrily, hoping the force would undo all the creasing caused by the long trip.
“You look like you’ve just witnessed a murder.”
David jumps, “Holy fucking shit,” he whisper yells, not having noticed any footsteps walking up next to him.
“Happy to see you too,” Stevie says accusingly, flicking his shoulder.
“Hi,” he replies. A beat too late, but oh well, she can sue him if she wants.
“What’s going on?”
He goes back to picking articles out of his bag. He shrugs, “what do you mean?” She hasn’t been here for three seconds and she’s already on to him.
“I have never seen you treat your sweaters without the utmost of care, something is going on.” She lowers her bag on a bed across the room from his, along with her jacket and car keys.
“How was the drive over?”
“Oh wow, that bad huh?”
David flicks another sweater with resentment.
“It was fine, more of the same. I didn’t hit a deer this time, though, which I thought you’d be proud of.”
That manages to force a laugh out of him, “Your ever growing compassion for wildlife is truly impressive.”
Despite his sarcasm, she smiles and nods once, pleased with the praise. She doesn’t say more, simply takes a similar position by her bed and begins mirroring David’s motions by emptying her own bag into her designated drawers.
They continue at this for a short two and a half minutes before David’s pants aren’t enough to distract him anymore, “It’s just- it came out of nowhere, you know? Completely threw me off my game.”
“What game?“
“I’m serious!”
“Fine. What came out of nowhere?“
“Do I have to admit that part?” David winces.
“How am I supposed to be serious if I have no clue what you’re talking about?”
Right. That’s a good point… one which David does not dignify with a response. He scowls and digs around in his empty bag, looking for something else to refold.
He can feel Stevie’s eyes on him, curious and entertained with a hint of disappointment. They’ve been through this before, David’s entire inability to express himself without causing a scene and breaking down. He thought he’d been making progress recently but apparently not. Stevie will either not be happy with this particular emotional setback, or will force him to power through it. Both of which seem like terrible options so he chooses the third.
Hightailing it out of here like he did earlier in the evening.
He picks his phone back up and takes two steps towards the door before Stevie’s voice is once again right behind his head.
“You headed for dinner?”
“No I-” he pauses, doing some quick mental math to figure out the likelihood of Patrick’s whereabouts. He could still be seated where David left him. But that would imply a whole slew of sadness and loneliness that David doesn’t want to be responsible for. Patrick probably took a second to feel his feelings and then bounced back to his normal bubbly self.
It isn’t likely that he would head back to the sleeping cabins, not when he’s a social butterfly who wants to catch up with everyone he missed.
Most people would do that sort of thing at the late night campfire that runs every other night.
“Actually, yea. Wanna come with?“
He doesn’t bother telling Stevie that he has already eaten. Doesn’t explain away his hesitation or anxious mood since she arrived. He lets their dynamic fall back into place, enjoying Stevie’s ability to treat him normally despite knowing fully well that something is occupying his brain.
David and Stevie managed to have a semi-regular night after that. They chatted, laughed, and caught up on all the months spent apart. Yea, they keep in touch throughout the year, but it’s mostly through text. They occasionally indulge in a phone call here and there but not as often as him and Patrick. They just don’t have a tolerance for small talk or any type of silence over the phone, whereas Patrick doesn’t mind an awkward silence and he can ramble on for ages about the most mundane of things.
All in all it was nice, spending time with Stevie until they entered the cabin last of all the counsellors and fell into their self assigned beds, feeling like they were sneaking around even though it was only midnight. David figured the only reason everyone went to bed early was because the official welcome to camp assembly was held on the first Monday of every camp season… at 7am.
David always assumed that was Jocelyn’s call because his mother would absolutely never put herself in that position.
He continues trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes as he scans the crowd, looking for Stevie, or Twyla, or any familiar face really. He manages to find both of them near the middle and to the left, and begins to weave his way through the seats to claim a chair next to them.
“Hi,”
Stevie grunts. Feeling the same effects of staying up too late and not having missed David enough to acknowledge him with a greeting.
Twyla on the other hand… “Good morning, David, it’s so nice to see you!”
“Hey Twy, how’s it been?”
“Wonderful. My students have been growing so fast. I managed to enrol some of them here at camp so I don’t miss them too much over the summer.”
That’s right, David somehow always forgets that Twyla chooses to work with kids all year round as opposed to these two controlled months. She’s been a teacher at an elementary school for longer than he’s known her, but somehow it equally shocks him and makes sense when he remembers.
He nods along and makes small talk as he watches the front stage start to fill up. Jocelyn takes the mic and starts testing it, sending loud feedback throughout the area. They’re all lucky this sort of thing where everyone is invited is held outdoors, or else their ears would start bleeding.
Sucks for the birds though.
He notes his mother doesn't make an appearance, which confirms his theory about this whole thing being Jocelyn's idea, and Jocelyn's idea long. Besides, his mother usually only attends events where she can make a theatrical impact on the kids.
Stevie’s elbow digs suddenly into his side.
“Ow, what? What is it?” He turns to face her, confused by her frown and gaping mouth.
“Something happened between you and Patrick, didn’t it?”
“What?” David has only just managed to forget about that whole stress monster, he doesn’t understand what gave it away after meticulously putting himself together in the mirror this morning. Fake happy smile and all.
“What do you mean ‘what’? Patrick just made, like, three laps around us looking for a seat.”
He looks up, indeed finding Patrick standing up and asking some folks to scoot over. David glances back at the empty seat next to him, cursing mentally. He shrugs, “You know him, he likes to make new friends at these sorts of things.”
“He doesn’t even want to come say hi? That’s awfully suspicious.”
David’s shoulders curl up, getting defensive, “Well why don’t you go ask him why he’s acting so weird? Because I assure you I have no clue,” he says it like that’s that, and turns his attention back to the front stage, begging Jocelyn mentally to begin her speech sooner rather than later.
He glances slowly out of the corner of his eye, pinning down Patrick where he finally managed to find a seat.
He should not have done that. He should not have done that.
Patrick is staring right back at him. It probably lasts a second, but that connection just breaks David’s heart again. He hates leaving Patrick in the dark like this. He knows for certain that the only reason Patrick isn’t sitting even remotely close to his friends is because of how David exited their conversation yesterday.
Patrick is too good of a man. He’s going to give David the space he needs and… as chivalrous as that is, David hates it. It means he has to confront his inner demons intentionally in order to be able to reconcile with his friend. What a nightmare.
“Good morning, Campers!”
A series of adolescent ‘good morning Misses Schitt’ resonate from the front rows where most of the young and unseasoned campers are seated. Behind them, are two rows of teens who still like to uphold the camp tradition, or join along with a younger sibling that likes the camp.
Most age out around the age of 14 and 15. After which they’re gone for a few years before they admit to themselves they miss the family-like culture that grows here and apply to become counsellors.
David is really only here to find out his assigned groups and activities for the first week. He has already memorised the introductory spiel Jocelyn likes to give, so he continues to people-watch as she speaks.
“Stevie!” David yells a warning, “Stop it, give that back!”
She continues to hold his plate at arms length and wave it around. His brunch plate. His brunch plate which he personally stacked with all his favourite foods after running to the dining hall as fast as possible once the assembly meeting was over.
“Confess, or I'll drop it.”
Worst of all, she is holding his plate precariously over an open garbage can, threatening to drop all its contents. One wrong flick of her wrist and all that he loves is gone. “Okay, okay!”
“Okay what?”
“Fuck, okay, yes. Something happened between Patrick and I.”
She sighs, “I know that, you goof. What happened?”
David winces, trying to figure out how to play his cards right. “I’ll tell you, okay? Just let me have my sustenance. I need to be fully sated in order to talk about my emotions. You know this.”
Huffing, Stevie shoves the plate back into his hands and stomps over to a table. David makes quick work of sitting down and taking a large bite of his omelette. He cuts to the chase though, knowing fully well that Stevie’s threat still holds. She can slide his plate off the table and into the grass at any moment if his actions don’t please her.
“So, Patrick and I had dinner together last night. Everything started out fine.”
She nods along, taking a few bites off her own plate as well.
“He just- he started talking weird and… I don’t know. Acting all nervous.”
That piques Stevie’s interest. “What kind of nervous?”
“Couldn’t find the right words. Wasn’t making eye contact.”
Her eyes widen a bit, probably as confused as David was last night when Patrick of all people started behaving this way. “Oh my god, what did he say?”
“Well, it’s more like what he implied. Which was a lot. About his feelings,” David takes another extremely large bit of his food and takes comfort in all his favourite flavours before continuing. “For me.”
Stevie’s hand slams down onto the table, “Holy shit! And then what!”
“And then nothing. That’s what happened,” David mutters, feeling the same symptoms from last night. Heart racing, stomach clenching.
“What did you say?”
He thinks back, trying to recall. He remains silent.
“Did you just sit there? Silently?”
“No, not exactly. I mean I acknowledged him. At least I think I did? Or I tried to… fuck, I don’t know. Stevie, you have to help me. I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, you have to talk to him, why don’t you go over there now?”
She nods her head in the general direction where they’d seen Patrick with a bunch of other jock-type guys earlier. At which point she also gave him the eye like, ‘there’s no way nothing happened’ and proceeded to accost him next to the nearest garbage can.
“It’s complicated.”
She rolls her eyes.
He takes a deep breath and spills what he’s most ashamed of. “I didn’t just fail to respond. I got up and left him.”
She freezes, “That’s cold. You left him in the middle of dinner?“
“We’ll, I was done with my f-”
Stevie reaches across the table and smacks his forehead.
“Ouch!”
“You know what that was for. Patrick is the only person in the world who deserves better than that!”
David throws his head back in despair, knowing fully well Patrick would never in a million years walk out on David. His heart aches with guilt. “I have to talk to him.”
She nods, tilting her head as if showing an obvious confirmation of his fact.
They’re quiet for a few more beats as they continue to eat. David mulls over their conversation, able to see it all for what it was now. The shock and anxiety that overwhelmed him internally somehow feel a little more manageable now that Stevie has given him some due perspective.
He’ll try to find a good time to speak to Patrick.
It’ll be hard, now that camp has officially started. That’s why everyone tries as much as possible to take advantage of the weekend period, arriving earlier and socialising. Now that the first day has commenced, they will be participating in back to back events until tonight’s campfire.
At the very least, the activities are mostly all run by single counsellors who each lead a team of eight. It’s usually pretty manageable.
Usually. The only exception is…
“Fuck. I just hope we don’t get paired together for the boat ride.”
David and Patrick get paired together for the boat ride.
It’s an event that all the older kids look forward to. It takes them across the lake and back in a span of two hours. It’s a longer, more risky trip, so Jocelyn always assigns two senior counsellors to lead it.
After David has picked up his eight assigned teens, he marches them in the direction of the lake. On the one hand, he’s dragging his feet and dreading meeting his trip partner. On the other hand, he’s stomping one foot after the other in an attempt to get there quickly and get it over with.
These conflicting emotions are really not healthy for him. Why is feeling so much damn work?
Once they’ve all arrived and done a head count, Patrick gathers all sixteen kids into a circle and puts on his camp voice. He reiterates the rules of the boat twice over, making sure they all knew the risks of goofing around too much on the lake.
David keeps his spot in the back, watching the group carefully to ensure they’re all listening. And look for weak spots. Every year there’s one rowdy kid and every year there’s at least one parent phone call. They all try to minimise that, however, because then the parents drive over and start blaming the camp for making them waste their time and their gas.
It’s best to just nip problems in the butt before they spiral out of control.
After everyone has boarded safely, the two leaders let the kids wander around the boat and marvel at the scenery. Other than David and Patrick, there is one other adult certified to drive the boat, so neither of them have to worry about that. Once the logistics are done with, they gravitate towards each other naturally.
David tenses up for a moment, thinking this could go in so many different directions, before Patrick takes the lead and starts a conversation.
“So that new kid. Kyle, I think? We gotta keep an eye on him.”
David nods along, “I was thinking the same thing. He’s subtle, doesn’t interrupt. But he kept nudging Lucy in the back, and I know she didn’t appreciate that.
They each nod once more curtly, a look of understanding passing between them.
Without letting it get weird, Patrick moves on quickly to join the kids. He points to things in the distance and explains this, that and the other thing. Something something fish something something self containing ecosystem.
Patrick’s not exactly speaking his language so David opts to group himself with the girls by the back of the boat who are getting some killer photos with the lake’s horizon as their backdrop.
It’s not long before the boat stops, as it usually does, at a stable point in the water. They work together to anchor it down and teach the kids why and how certain knots are better than others.
Once given permission, one by one everyone dives into the water for a refreshing swim. David stands back, admiring the inevitable urge of a human trying to splash anyone near them without getting a single drop on them in return.
It’s comical, really.
David’s enjoyment is cut short when screams of his and Patrick’s names start getting thrown around.
“David!” “Patrick, let’s gooo!” “David, come on old man!”
David scoffs, standing up against the railing to figure out who said that. “How old do you think I am!”
“Do not answer that!” Comes an equally emphatic yell from behind him.
David turns, ready to rip one into Patrick.
“Trust me, you do not want to find out how old they think you are. You’re not strong enough,” Patrick smirks, giving David a knowing look.
David chokes. He quite literally starts to cough his lungs out as he ignores anything Patrick is saying to him because-
Because Patrick is shirtless.
Why is Patrick shirtless? Patrick is shirtless and standing a foot away from David like they were having any usual sunny afternoon conversation about whether ageing is a privilege or a scam. Except, that’s not actually what they’re discussing. Because, well, Patrick is shirtless and David can’t think.
“Why…” he tries, pointing in circles at Patrick’s torso.
“The children are waiting,” Patrick explains matter of factly. “Aren’t you coming?”
David gulps, shrugging lamely.
Patrick accepts that answer and tosses his shirt to the side. He takes one step back before positioning himself in the direction of the swim platform and makes a run for it. David follows his movements carefully until he becomes airborne and performs a rather impressive cannonball right into the centre of the group.
David takes a deep breath, snapping out of it quickly.
The problem isn’t seeing Patrick shirtless. David has seen Patrick shirtless on multiple occasions. That’s just what happens when you grow up alongside someone of a similar age for decades.
The problem is… David’s reaction to seeing Patrick shirtless.
David is a firm believer that two people can carry on being friends even after strange feelings are admitted out loud. It’s difficult, but it’s definitely possible. And he really hoped he and Patrick were headed in that direction. That agenda will not work out if David starts treating Patrick differently. If he starts getting these urges to look down and glance at his bare chest.
If his hand gets all clammy where it holds his glass tighter when Patrick is nearby.
So, yea, it’s a problem.
Deciphering that mess might give him a headache. He takes a few large gulps of his iced tea, wondering if the sun had always been shining this sharp or if it’s just his luck that it gets hot the minute he’s the only one on the boat.
“David, hurry!” Another voice shouts.
He waves, “It’s fine, just have fun without me!”
One of the boys starts to splash water in David’s general direction - to no effect since he is several feet too far for the water to even hit the boat.
“Come on, David, do it for the kids!” This time, it’s Patrick who hollers over.
David takes a deep breath, knowing fully well he has lost the fight. He tries to stall, taking his time in finishing his drink, carefully removing his shirt and folding it neatly in the shade.
He walks around in circles for a moment. Fully aware that if he enters the water with Patrick, double the shirtlessness will mean double the self-consciousness. As he walks around the boat, an idea forms quickly. He grabs one of the few floating devices left attached to the boat and walks to the platform where the stairs are waiting to gently lower him into the water. He’s not a heathen.
He slides the absolutely horrendous looking device over his head and nods, happy with his choice. This is the least sexy he has looked since high school. It’s great.
Once David is in the water, he momentarily forgets what he was stressing about. His body cools down significantly, and he even dunks his head underwater to get the same effect on his scalp. It’s refreshing, even more so than Twyla’s homemade iced tea.
The kids start enjoying his involvement like they've never had an adult give them attention before. They start doing somersaults underwater and competing to see who holds their breath for the longest time. Eventually, they start to race, seeing who can perform the best backstroke. It causes everyone to disperse a little out of earshot, splitting up into smaller groups.
This time, when Patrick approaches David, it’s not shocking or mortifying. He performs a weak interpretation of what a front crawl is supposed to be, making his way over to David where he’s floating effortlessly in his little orange hoop.
“I think those are for emergencies only.”
“Mm, I don’t think so, I use them all the time,” David replies.
“And you think that’s proof in and of itself that they’re for common use?”
David smiles, knowing full well he’s playing cheeky. “Yes, exactly.”
Patrick shrugs, drawing attention to the water droplets rolling off his shoulders. “If you say so.”
Happy with winning that debate, David closes his eyes and let’s his head fall back. He feels his own body weight disappear as the water carries him in place.
“See? It’s not so bad down here,” Patrick comments.
David takes a peak and regrets it. Patrick is starfishing himself into a floating position next to David, eyes also closed. His chest hair is splattered to his skin, going this way and that with the movement of the water. David can also see where Patrick’s swim trunks have ridden up one of Patrick’s thighs.
Damn it.
He shuts his eyes closed again. “It’s not the water I was resisting. More so the general chaos that comes with ten plus adolescents in one location.”
“You can’t blame them though. They all love you, they think you’re the greatest.”
“Me?!” David laughs, “I’m hardly present, I hardly teach them anything, I just supervise.”
“Exactly! Which is what drives me nuts. It’s like you’re this wild, aloof entity and they’re all gravitated towards that.”
David hums in acknowledgement.
“We’re all gravitated towards that.”
His eyes blink open once more, this time to catch Patrick staring right back at him. How does he keep finding himself in these positions where he relaxes, lets his guard down, forgets that there’s even an issue at hand. Only to have it brought up again so abruptly.
Except this time it’s so much more jarring than when Stevie does it.
“About that…”
“Oh it’s fine, I didn’t mean to bring it up or to rehash it.”
“Rehash it? We didn’t even hash it out in the first place.”
Patrick shrugs, suddenly less cool and collected like he’d been in front of the group. He glances around. Making sure they’re still out of earshot.
“Actions speak louder than words, I guess.”
At those words, David’s heart physically aches. It’s true, then, that his actions really hurt Patrick to the degree he’d been fearing. “Patrick I… I’ve really been meaning to talk to you sooner. I just…”
He shushes him, “It’s fine. Really. I always had faith in us that we could go back to normal if you didn’t… if things didn’t go as well as I’d hoped,” he treads water in circles, avoiding eye contact. “Consider it water under the boat,” he winks.
“Oh, that’s terrible. No. Take that back!” David takes the bait, humouring Patrick’s little pun. He recognizes it for what it is; a change of subject.
David wants to apologise profusely, he needs to do it. He hasn’t let himself off the hook quite yet. But at this post in time Patrick isn’t willing to receive that type of vulnerability. David will have to reach out to Patrick in a way that says, ‘I’m doing this of my own volition and not just to make you feel better momentarily.’
It takes him a week.
It takes him a week.
He’s a little bit ashamed of how long it’s taking him to muster up the courage and execute his plan. But well, it’s hard to muster up the courage when the plan doesn’t exist yet.
It’s been a week of non stop sessions, activities, games, campfires. The weekdays are long and by the time anyone really has any time to themselves, they’re pooched.
It’s Saturday by the time Stevie hits the nail on the head again, reigniting the fire under his ass.
“So, you and Patrick seem to be doing great again.”
“Yea, ‘seem’ is the keyword in that sentence.”
“Oh?”
“We had a conversation, he seemed to want to move on like everything is normal.”
Stevie thinks about that for a moment, eyes locked on her bed where she’s currently switching out her sheets before bedtime. “I’ve gotta say, I’m surprised.”
“Why’s that?”
”It’s just, if Patrick has been feeling this way for a while, I hardly think he’d give up that easily.”
David props himself up into his elbows where he’s been laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. “Hold up- for a while now? How would you know how long Patrick was… feeling his feelings?”
She looks up at his accusing tone and reassures him. “I haven’t been talking to him, relax.”
He makes a facial expression that shakes his entire body, frowning and flailing at the same time.
“What? It’s not exactly shocking that Patrick likes you, David, you two used to spend 24/7 together.”
“We did not!”
“Did too,”
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Listen, if he told you he wanted to move on, it was probably because that’s what he thought you needed to hear.”
“You think he’s, like, secretly pining or something?”
Stevie shrugs ominously and goes back to her task at hand. “What were you referring to anyway?”
“I still haven’t apologised to him for the way I reacted, not officially.”
“A week-” she abandons her post and stomps over to him, slapping him upside the head for being a dumbass, probably.
“I know, I know!“
“That explains why you haven’t made a move yet. You don’t even know what move to make.”
David falls back in defeat.
He’s haunted by those words for the rest of the night. He hasn’t exactly been a relationship guru at any point in his life, but he’d like to think he picked up a skill or two in his adulthood. But his actions this week show no evidence of that.
And what is he so afraid of anyway? Making a fool of himself? This is Patrick we’re talking about. Patrick, who gives kids piggy back rides and teaches them how to make balloon animals. He makes friends with 6 year olds and 60 year olds alike. He doubts there is a more carefree man than Patrick out there.
Not to mention, the way Patrick makes David feel. Not just this week but for the past couple of years. It’s… warmth and comfort. He provides a safe space to make mistakes. A safe space to judge his clients without going on record. Patrick can listen to David shit talk the Rose family for hours while still understanding that he loves them with all his heart.
David has never let himself go down this rabbit whole. Never even considered that there is yet another layer that he and Patrick can take their relationship to.
He doesn’t exactly know how it’s going to play out, or what happens if something goes sideways. But he doesn’t need to figure out those things. He just needs to make one move right now, not ten.
He comes to the abrupt and jarring realisation that if this is the way he feels about Patrick, then he’s severely misusing the time they have together. Every year, Camp lasts about eight weeks. Every year, on the last day, the two of them feel tremendous regret about splitting up and heading to opposite sides of the country.
And they were just friends all this time. He can only assume it’ll be much, much, more heartbreaking when they split up after such a… significant summer.
David can’t say anything for sure. Doesn’t have the confidence to predict that this budding romance will lead to anything more than a fling. But he’ll be damned if he didn’t try to find out.
He jolts upright, checking the time.
It’s a few minutes past one in the morning. Everyone is fast asleep, he can hear Stevie’s heavy breaths coming from her side of the room. He mouths ‘Wish me fucking luck,’ in her general direction before making his way deeper into the room. Even in the dark, he knows very well where Patrick is sleeping. He wastes no time in walking up and crouching by the head of his bed.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Patrick…”
When he gets no response, he reaches up and places a hand gently on his shoulder. Either Patrick is a light sleeper, or it’s early enough in the night that he hadn’t fallen deep into it yet.
He startles awake, “What, wha’s wrong?”
“Shh, it’s just me.”
“David?”
“Yea. Are you up for a midnight stroll?”
Patrick looks around, taking in his surroundings. The room is quiet, there’s not much movement. He looks like he can’t make heads or tails of why David would be waking him up in the middle of the night.
But, he’s Patrick, which means he does not know how to say no to an adventure.
“Sure, I just need some water…”
David hands Patrick his water bottle from his nightstand and ushers him out of bed. He leads them out of the cabin without further explanation, not wanting to keep whispering long enough to wake up all the light sleepers.
Back by his bed, he blindly grabs two towels he knows are stored in his dresser. He shuts the door behind them and starts walking.
Patrick seems to have gained a little more clarity after chugging the entire contents of his bottle. “Uh, David we are way too old to be skinny dipping anymore. If we get caught-”
“What? No. We're not going skinny dipping, I haven’t gone mad,” his face burns. Something in his stomach flips and flutters. To Patrick’s defence, they used to have a habit of sneaking off and skinny dipping in the middle of the night. It was a method of expressing their liberation after graduating from the camp and becoming counsellors themselves.
But they haven’t done that in years. And frankly, the sheer idea of skinny dipping with Patrick now, in their current context, is giving him more butterflies than he’d like to admit.
“No, I just wanted to show you something,” it’s a little bit of a lie, but it gives Patrick enough of a reason to follow along without asking too many questions. Because David doesn’t have any answers. He’s winging this as he goes.
Thanks to the dark and his still sleep foggy brain, Patrick doesn’t realise where David is taking him until they arrive.
“Why are we by the lake if we’re not going swimming?”
David places the towels down on the deck, one next to the other. Not knowing exactly how to explain himself, he leads by example and lowers himself onto one of the towels. He crosses his legs in a criss-cross position before gesturing for Patrick to take a seat on the last pillow.
“What’s going on?” Patrick asks, frozen in his standing position.
“Nothing, I just wanted to sit down with you.”
“And the towels are necessary because…”
“These pjs are givenchy,” David answers firmly.
“Oh right. How could I forget,” At that, Patrick’s demeanour eases a little bit. He shrugs, lowering himself into a similar position next to David. The leg closest to David is bent, while the other is outstretched towards the lake. He places his elbow on his knee casually.
David watches him in the dark, noticing how his body is equally facing him and the lake.
“You want to watch the lake?” Patrick guesses.
“That’s right.” David says simply.
“In the middle of the night. While it’s pitch black.”
David’s throat tightens, preventing him from playing dumb. He gets this feeling in his gut that tells him this is the moment. This is when he needs to be upfront with Patrick. No more beating around the bush.
He takes a deep breath and looks across the water, almost wishing they were at a beach where waves would make enough noise to calm his nerves. It’s so eerily quiet. Anything he says will be burned into Patrick’s ears forever.
God, why is this so hard?
Patrick starts tapping his foot along with an invisible pattern. Almost as though he’s singing a melody in his head. When David looks back, he sees him also starring ahead. Giving David the moment he needs to figure out what to say.
Actions speak louder than words, he’d said to David earlier in the week.
It gives David the inspiration he’s been looking for.
Careful, and gently, David reaches his hand across the space between them and lands it on Patrick’s hand where it sits palm down on his thigh. Patrick’s head turns in response, and they make eye contact. Somehow, he’s not confused, or worried or impatient. He’s just waiting for David to make his move.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry,” David finally says out loud. “For the way I reacted last weekend.”
Patrick only stares, so David continues.
“I shouldn’t have left like that, and I most certainly shouldn’t have avoided you the next day. It was completely insensitive of me after you poured your heart out, and I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Patrick blinks. His mouth opens and closes. David waits, giving him the time that he was granted. The water continues rippling against the dock.
“Thank you, David.”
David nods, digging around in his brain for more sincerity so he doesn’t claim up again. “I know you said you’re fine, and that it’s water under the bridge and all that. But that wouldn’t be fair to you, to let you do all the… processing of feelings all on your own.”
It’s pitch black and all out here but David can still see the shadow of Patrick’s smirk. “You want me to fangirl about you to your face?” He jokes.
David rolls his eyes. “Well, not when you put it like that!”
They laugh it off easily, most of the initial tension fading away now.
“Nah, you don’t have to humour me David. I’ll be fine.”
He pauses for a beat, thinking through his words carefully. He decides to go for another gesture which will describe his feelings way more eloquently than he ever could. He squeezes Patrick’s hand, letting his fingers wrap around the warm skin.
Patrick looks down at them, unmoving.
He continues, sliding his fingers up and through, ending in a fully entwined position. Patrick let’s his hand be manipulated, rotating it so that why’re palm to palm.
“Would it be humouring you if I do the same?”
Patrick gulps. Audibly.
David takes comfort in the fact that he’s sure this is some sort of new territory for both of them. Even if in different ways.
“I wouldn’t believe it.”
“Let me lay my heart out like you did yours. I… didn’t exactly expect it when you told me what you told me last week. In fact, you kinda freaked me out when you struggled so much with it.”
Patrick laughs and looks away briefly, David squeezes his hand reassuringly.
“I wasn’t bothered by it, it just… felt so enormous, you know? Like there’s before, when we were friends, and there’s after.”
“We will always be friends, I told you that,” Patrick argues.
“I know, but now we’re friends with… options.”
His head tilts, eyebrows going up suggestively.
“Not like that!”
Patrick laughs, loving how easy it is to fluster David.
“Emotional, options,” David emphasises.
“I hope you’re not saying all this because you think it’s what I want to hear,” Patrick finally, finally, squeezes David’s hand back. It sends a rush of warmth up his arm and into his chest. He blinks rapidly.
“That’s funny, coming from someone who says what I want to hear all the time.”
“True that. Let’s agree to stop? I’ll be genuine if you’ll be genuine?”
David smiles, liking the sound of that. Liking the sound of Patrick’s voice in general.
They’re quiet for a bit, staring off into the distance again. It’s a lot to take in, frankly. Heartbeats are racing, stomachs are flipping. Fingers are wandering.
David shivers when Patrick’s other hand joins the party and starts tracing circles on David’s forearm, causing him to full body shiver. “So what does this mean?”
“It means… we…”
“Like…” Patrick adds.
“Eachother?” “Eachother.” They say in unison.
They burst into laughter simultaneously, laughing with and at each other for the complete caveman-like communication skills they have when it comes to admitting mushy gushy feelings.
Their fit ends after a while, causing them to end up in completely different positions. Patrick’s got a hand on David’s leg. David’s got a hand on Patrick’s chest. Everything’s warm and soft and comforting. They land with their foreheads against each other.
“Hey…” Patrick begins.
“Hm?” David says, eyes closed.
“I really thought I’d be kissing you last week so… I think it’s about time I make that move.”
David breaks into a stupid goofy smile. He doesn’t have much of a response other than to nod enthusiastically and let Patrick bring them even closer together. Patrick drags his nose across his cheek gently, giving them time to savour the moment. He places his lips on David’s ever so gently, pressing just right.
David exhales a breath he didn’t even realise he’d been holding in. Their lips move slowly, shifting so that their noses swap positions.
Ah, that’s the spot.
Patrick let’s out the quietest moan. It’s almost not there if not for the vibration David feels across his lips. He hums back in response, not able to resist the wide grin that follows.
It breaks them apart, they end up a panting mess.
“Wow.”
“Holy shit.”
“I mean… we’re both adults, I think our first kiss can be juicier than that…” David hints, nudging his knee into Patrick’s calf.
“You think so?”
“Only one way to find out…” he mumbles against Patrick’s lips before closing in. This time, his tongue dares to swipe across his lips, sending a new level of electricity to buzz between them.
Patrick moans, audibly this time, and reacts. His bent leg stretches out and shifts behind David. He scoots David closer to him, placing him firmly between his legs and taking charge. His hands close around David’s neck gently yet firmly. He draws him in, and in, and in. They’re so close David can swear he hears both of their heart beats.
He lets his own hands wander down. Feeling the softness of Patrick’s sleepshirt down, down, until his pinkies find skin. He lets them settle there, caressing Patrick’s sides every so slightly over his waistband.
David feels over the moon. He feels over the universe actually. Patrick is here. Patrick is patient and loving and comforting.
Patrick is holding him!
Patrick is pulling away?
With one final smooch, Patrick pulls back and says. “I know we’re adults and all that, but this is still a kids camp.”
“Oh come on, it’s pitch black. Five more minutes?”
Patrick laughs, “Five more minutes.”
Their lips meet again.