Chapter Text
Patrick drifted into wakefulness like rising from a deep dive to the surface of the water. He became aware first, before even opening his eyes, of David’s arm over his chest and his hand curled protectively around the side of his ribcage. The sheets were soft against his skin and the duvet was a comforting weight over his body and he never wanted to move from this spot. Patrick lifted his own hand and dropped it clumsily over David’s, calloused fingertips tracing gently over David’s knuckles.
“Good morning,” David said in a surprisingly coherent voice for first thing in the morning.
Opening his eyes to see David watching him was an unusual experience. As he blinked sleep out of his eyes, Patrick tried to remember if David had ever woken up before him, and the only occasion he could summon to mind was New Year’s Day, after a night when Patrick had gotten much drunker than David had.
“Why are you awake so early?” Patrick yawned.
David shrugged. “It’s almost eight o’clock; you’re just sleeping later than usual.”
Groaning, Patrick started to sit up. The very energetic sex they’d indulged in last night must’ve really worn him out. “We’ve gotta get up and get started on those vendor pickups.” It was Monday and the store was closed, but they had so many pickups to do this week that they’d grudgingly agreed to do them on their day off, splitting the list in half.
“Mmm, five more minutes,” David said, holding Patrick down with the arm across his chest and shifting closer, their naked bodies coming into closer contact. Patrick closed his eyes and took a moment to appreciate that David hadn’t gotten up to put on pajamas last night, his usual routine even now that Patrick had his own apartment. Patrick was starting to suspect that he could read David’s lack of clothes the next morning as a particularly positive review on his performance in bed the night before.
“What are you smiling about?” David asked.
“Last night,” Patrick responded without opening his eyes. They really needed to get up, he thought, but lazing around in bed with David was very tempting.
David made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. “Yeah, that was, um…” He nuzzled against Patrick’s shoulder. “If that’s what happens after you go on a date with someone else, I’m almost inclined to tell you to do it again.”
Patrick bristled at that. “That’s not funny.”
“Sorry,” David whispered, pressing a supplicating kiss against Patrick’s arm.
“Besides, I bailed partway through the date,” Patrick said.
“Mm. Poor Ken,” David said. “He has no idea what he’s missing out on.”
Patrick frowned, turning onto his side and dislodging David from his chest. “You didn’t expect me to sleep with Ken, did you?”
David opened and closed his mouth. “Not sleep with, no.”
The same queasiness that Patrick had felt last night as he drove to meet Ken rose up in his stomach. “Then, what? A quick handjob in my car?”
David shot him a guilty look. “No,” he said, but then bit his lip. “Or, I don’t know. Maybe something like that. Something that you’ve only experienced with me that you might be… curious about experiencing with another man.”
Patrick sighed. “Okay, first of all, I’m not particularly curious about experiencing stuff like that with other men.”
“Yeah, you said—”
“And if I do become curious, or… or want to … explore with another guy in the future, you and I are going to have to be a lot clearer with each other about what is and isn’t going to happen.”
“Ground rules,” David grumbled.
“Yeah, I guess.” Patrick leaned over and kissed him. “But, David.” He kissed him again. “It’s so good with you. I sort of can’t imagine anyone else not being a huge step down in quality.”
He watched David’s face go on a journey before settling on pleased. “That’s very flattering. But sometimes the point is that it’s a stranger. Or at least, someone you aren’t going to see again.”
Patrick pulled back. “Is that something you want?”
David rolled his eyes, dismissing that idea with a flap of his hand as he looked up at the ceiling. “God no. I had a lifetime’s worth of casual sex.”
Reaching out, Patrick put his hand on David’s cheek, turning his head so that they were looking at each other again. David’s face softened, his eyes gazing into Patrick’s in the way that always made his stomach swoop. Made Patrick want to sink into David’s arms and never let go. “And if that ever changes, will you tell me?”
There was a pause, and then David nodded. “Of course. Will you tell me? If you change your mind?”
Patrick nodded. “I promise.” And then he pulled David closer, kissing him deeper and with more tongue than was probably warranted given their morning breath. For once, David didn’t complain.
After a minute, Patrick had to wrench his mouth away and force himself to sit up. “Okay, if we don’t get up now, I’m going to end up fucking you again.”
David smirked. “What’s so wrong with that?” And then he wiggled his hips and his expression became more thoughtful. “Although I’m still feeling what you did to me last night.”
Patrick winced. They had gone at it pretty hard, he remembered with a mixture of desire and guilt. “Sorry.”
“No, no,” David said. “It was perfect and don’t you dare apologize. Just not sure if I can get fucked again right at this precise moment.”
Patrick whipped the covers off and stood up, ignoring his own visible arousal. “You aren’t going to be. You’re gonna get ready to do the pickups west of town.”
David whined and stuck his bottom lip out. Patrick turned away from him and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor before he was tempted to bite David’s lip, because that way did not lead toward getting their vendor pickups done. “Can you make us some breakfast while I shower?” Patrick called over his shoulder. David’s “ugh fine” reached his ears just as he was closing the bathroom door.
Once he had showered and shaved, Patrick emerged back into the apartment, a towel around his waist. David had pulled on a sweatshirt and drawstring shorts and was in the kitchen making Patrick’s tea. The domesticity of it made something tender and fragile swell in his chest. He loved having David here in his apartment, and he felt a wild desire to just ask David to move in, his resolution to take his time with that step in their relationship be damned. In moments like this, his original idea that he wanted to spend some time living on his own seemed silly. As he pulled on underwear and jeans (glancing over his shoulder to catch David checking out his ass), a t-shirt and a v-neck sweater, he imagined it — David’s clothes in his closet (well, some of them), David’s shoes by the door, his journal on the nightstand, his products finding a permanent home in Patrick’s bathroom rather than lugged back and forth between the motel and the apartment in David’s bag.
“Your mom is texting.”
Startled, Patrick looked over to David, who was pointing at Patrick’s phone on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna shower,” David continued, unaware of the track of Patrick’s thoughts. “Here’s your tea and some toast.”
Patrick walked over and picked up his phone in one hand and a piece of toast in the other.
Mom: Can you call when you get a chance?
Oh yeah, the other reason he wasn’t ready to ask David to move in yet, he thought with a surge of shame. His parents.
Figuring David would be in the bathroom for a while yet, Patrick unlocked his phone and placed the requested call.
“Hi, sweetheart!” his mother said in a chipper voice.
“Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine, we were just having breakfast and realizing that we hadn’t heard from you in a while. How are things with you?”
Patrick looked at the closed bathroom door, and then moved over to the other side of the apartment. “Things are good. I’ve got vendor pickups to do today.”
“You work so hard, dear. I hope you are taking some time for yourself too.”
“I am.” He thought about dates with David, or curling up on the bed and watching movies with David, none of which he was ready to talk to his mother about. He knew it was time. It was way past time, but he could never get the words to come out when he was on the phone with his parents. “I went two for four in my last game,” he said. Baseball was always a safe topic.
“That’s great!” his mother said, the enthusiasm she’d always shown for his athletic activities obvious in her voice. “I bet they’re glad to have you on the team.”
“Uh huh. It’s a fun team.” He thought about how easy it was to be out of the closet around them — mentioning his boyfriend as the team drank beers together at the Wobbly Elm after practice, or kissing David after games when he came to watch. It was nice. He wanted that same ease with his family, to be able to mention David in passing as more than just his business partner. He ran a finger along the top of the framed picture on his desk, of him and David on Christmas Eve last year, arms around each other at the Roses’ party. Patrick had a hard time taking his eyes off of David in that photo sometimes, radiant in a silver sweater under the warm Christmas lights.
“Well,” she said, like she was hoping for him to say something else. After a pause in which he didn’t, his mother continued, “I should let you get on with your day.”
“Yeah.” He sighed, guilt churning in his stomach yet again at the fact that he couldn’t just be fucking honest with this mother. That the life he shared with his parents was more gaps than substance. “I’ll call again when I have more time to talk.”
“Okay,” she said, the happiness gone from her voice. He’d done that with his evasiveness, Patrick thought. He’d made his mother sad. “I love you, sweetheart.”
“Love you, too, Mom.”
~*~
David pulled up in front of the store in the Lincoln and pushed on the heavy driver’s door with a grunt. He stood up, his sweatshirt sticking to the small of his back with sweat. The vinyl seats were one of things he hated most about that car, and he hated a lot of things about it. He wasn’t that fond of Patrick’s car either, but at least it had slightly more comfortable seats. In any case, their divided errands had made borrowing Patrick’s car impossible, so he was stuck with the Lincoln.
He unlocked the door to the store and ducked his head in. “Patrick?” he called. Patrick’s car wasn’t out front, but it was possible he’d pulled around to the back to unload. When no one answered, David pulled out his phone and sent off a text: How close are you to getting back? There was no answer, so David assumed Patrick was driving. He opened his text chain with Stevie and texted, Can you come help me at the store for a minute?
Stevie: I’m busy working.
David: You’re not that busy if you’re texting me back.
She didn’t answer. “Fuck,” David whined to no one, resigning himself to having to unload the entire car by himself. This was why splitting up the vendor pickups had been a terrible idea, he thought as he muscled a crate of honey out of the trunk. Now here he was, all alone with very heavy things to carry.
By the time he had all of the new merchandise stacked in the back room, he was drenched with sweat and there was still no sign of Patrick. Well, just for that, he wasn’t going to wait around, David thought churlishly as he locked up and got back in the car. He was going to go take a shower at the motel and Patrick could unload by himself too.
He briefly considered going to Patrick’s apartment to shower; his water pressure was better and David had a couple of changes of clothes there. Plus, he had a key, and Patrick had said that he was welcome to come and go as he pleased. But he also knew that living alone was something that Patrick wanted — it was something he’d never had before, he’d admitted to David on the day he’d signed the lease. He’d gone from his parents’ house to a dorm to apartments with a series of roommates to living with Rachel to rooming with Ray. He’d never had his own place. David understood that and he wanted Patrick to have what he needed, not have David unexpectedly underfoot when he perhaps wasn’t welcome. Still, it didn’t stop his heart from aching a little bit. He wanted to live with Patrick, he’d realized. He had been ready to take that step and Patrick hadn’t been. It stung.
Alexis was doing something on the laptop computer at her little desk when David walked into their shared room, and she looked up at him and wrinkled her nose.
“Ugh, David, what happened to you?” she asked.
Narrowing his eyes, he dropped his bag on the bed. “I was working. What are you talking about?”
“You’re all gross and sweaty,” she replied.
“It’s hot out today, and I had to do a bunch of vendor pickups in that boat of a car and then unload everything into the store by myself because Patrick’s not back yet,” he complained. He collected a change of clothes and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him to punctuate how tough his day had been. Okay, he’d been able to sample some of the new butter cookies that Mrs. Franklin sold through their store, and maybe she’d also given him a glass of lemonade, but still.
After a shower, David felt worlds better, although there was still no reply from Patrick to his text.
“What is taking him so long to get back?” David muttered as he dug through his cedar chest. The sweater he was looking for didn’t appear to be in there, another annoyance in a day of annoyances.
“What’s the matter?” Alexis asked.
David waved at her, his hand flapping at the end of his wrist. “Patrick’s just taking forever to finish his vendor pickups,” he said, trying to ignore the worry beginning to gnaw in his stomach. “It’s fine.”
“I hope you had a talk last night, David,” Alexis said, her eyes not coming up from her laptop. “No more fooling around with anyone outside the relationship until you’ve established some ground rules.”
David whipped around and glared at her. “Can you let that go, please? We’re fine.”
“No thanks to you,” she said.
He suppressed a squawk. “We had a healthy talk about it this morning. We’re fine.”
“Good,” Alexis said.
“Also the sex last night was very hot—”
“David, ew.” She stuck her tongue out. “Don’t tell me that.” But then she sort of half-smiled at him. “I’m glad you guys are okay.”
David smiled back. He was glad too. “He makes me…” David started to say, then thought better of being so vulnerable in front of his sister. But what the hell; she’d been there for him last night when he needed someone. He moved over to his bed and sat down to put on his shoes. “He makes me feel safe. No one’s ever… I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel safe before.”
Alexis, to her credit, didn’t make fun of him, although the squinty smile she gave him made him recoil, grimacing.
“Kids!” his dad called as he barged into the room. “We’re headed over to the café for dinner. Do you want to join us?”
Alexis shook her head. “I’m going over to Ted’s for dinner.”
David picked up his phone and sent another text to Patrick. Are you still not back yet? And then he stared at the screen, waiting to see dots to indicate Patrick was texting back, or at least to see a read receipt. The ball of worry in his stomach grew a little bit bigger.
“David, do you want to come with your mother and me?” Johnny asked.
“I was supposed to eat at Patrick’s,” he said. “But maybe. I don’t know.” He switched apps and called Patrick’s phone, holding it to his ear and listening to it ring and ring and ring. With every ring, he felt his breathing rate tick up.
“Well, we’re going now, so I need you to decide,” Johnny said irritably.
David slapped his phone down on the bedspread and threw his hands up. “Then go without me; it’s fine!”
“David, I’m not going to wait around for a second evening that I’m supposed to spend with Ted while you have another meltdown about—”
“No one’s having a meltdown!” David shouted. “I just don’t know where my boyfriend is!” He looked at the time, feeling queasy. His previous annoyance was gone and now he was just worried. Patrick really should have been back hours ago. He tried calling again.
“David, you need to be a little bit less clingy—” Alexis said.
“Okay, well, we’re going to go,” Johnny said. “You can join us later, if…”
David’s phone vibrated in his hand, and he saw he had a call from an unknown number coming in as he tried to call Patrick. Maybe Patrick’s phone had died and he was calling from someone else’s phone, he thought as he clicked to answer.
“Hello?”
“Hello, is this David Rose?” asked a woman in a sharp, business-like tone of voice.
“Yes, who is this?” he snapped.
“This is Cheryl calling from Elmdale Hospital. We’ve got a Patrick Brewer here and he gave us your number as his emergency contact.”
“Oh, God.” There was a rushing noise in his ears and his mouth tasted like bile as he tried to shape it into making useful words. “What happened to him? Is he okay?” David clutched the edge of his bed, feeling dizzy, heart racing.
“There was a car accident and he was brought in by ambulance a little while ago. He’s having some tests done, but I can’t disclose any information about his health to you over the phone. If you come to the hospital—”
David hung up. He imagined Patrick’s car, the car he’d ridden in countless times on their way to movie dates or dinner, speeding through the countryside as Mariah Carey or one of Patrick’s alt-folk bands blasted out of the shitty speakers. Patrick’s car, mangled on a deserted road somewhere, no one around for miles. How long did it take before an ambulance came? How long was he lying there alone, broken and injured by the side of the road?
“David, you’ve gone very pale,” Alexis said.
“Is Patrick all right?” Johnny asked as Moira wandered in.
“John, I’m a bit peckish,” she said. “Are we leaving soon?”
“Patrick was in a car accident,” David said. Everyone’s voices sounded muffled to his ears, even his own. “I need to go to the hospital.” He stood up and looked around for the keys. He didn’t think he’d returned them to his father’s stupid little hook in the other room. Where were they?
There was a flurry of activity and then Alexis was at his side. “I’ll drive.”
David ignored her. He didn’t have time to think about Alexis right now. Where were the fucking keys?
Alexis held up her hand. “I have the keys and I’m driving,” she said, and David spared a moment to be confused about what he’d just thought to himself and what he’d said out loud. “You’re shaking,” she said pointedly. “Put your shoes on and let’s go.”
“Is he all right, David?” his mother asked as David sat back down on the bed and reached for his shoes. His fingers felt numb and clumsy.
“I don’t know.”
He looked up to see his parents exchange a nervous glance.
“I mean, they said they were doing tests. They wouldn’t say that if he was, like…” Dead, his brain supplied, but the word wouldn’t come out of his mouth.
“Shall we accompany you to the hospital, my darling?” Moira asked, grimacing, clearly regretting making the offer even as she did so.
“Nope,” Alexis said, shooing them back into their room. “No need for that. We’ll call you as soon as we know something,” she said firmly. When Alexis used that voice, people often had a hard time arguing, and their parents were no exception this time.
David tied his shoes awkwardly, the bows kind of a mess. Patrick had made fun of him one time about the precise way he tied his shoes. Patrick, who was lying in a hospital bed, injured, alone…
“Come on, David,” Alexis said, taking his arm firmly but kindly. “Have you got your wallet and phone?” He patted his pockets and nodded. “Okay, let’s go.”
It was normally a forty minute drive to Elmdale, lots of time for David to imagine every possible horrible scenario. Maybe Patrick was in a coma, and would wake up having forgotten who David was, or even that he liked men. Maybe he would be paralyzed. Maybe his face would be horribly scarred. David would love him anyway, he thought, even if he’d been disfigured. All that mattered was that he came through this alive.
“I’m sure he’s okay, David,” Alexis said as if she could hear what was going on inside his head. She needed to stop doing that. It was creepy.
“You don’t know that.”
“His car is boring and probably has airbags and, like, crumple zones or whatever,” she said. “I bet he’s just got a little bonk on the head. The tests are probably just a precaution.”
He sighed, playing out that much more comforting fantasy in his head instead of his dark ones. Patrick would just stroll out of an examining room and David would hug him tight and take him home and everything would be fine.
They arrived at the hospital in only thirty-two minutes, thanks to Alexis’s speedy driving.
He identified himself at the front desk, and the receptionist or whatever she was told him to wait. David inhaled a breath, ready to argue, but Alexis was thanking the woman and dragging him over to the rows of chairs before he could get another word out. His sister perched on one of the plastic chairs and pulled out her phone while David paced back and forth in front of her. Now that they were here, he really just wanted to tear the place apart until he could see Patrick for himself. And hold his hand; he was sure that whatever had happened, Patrick would feel better if David could hold his hand.
“David Rose?” A woman in a white coat stood next to the door that led to the rest of the hospital. He rushed over.
“I’m David Rose,” he said, breathless.
“You’re Patrick Brewer’s…” She consulted the chart she was holding.
“Partner. Can you please tell me what happened? Is he okay?” He could sense Alexis behind him, hovering.
“Well, he got banged up pretty good. Compound fracture of the radius and fracture of the ulna, two cracked ribs, and a concussion. The police said a truck ran a stoplight and hit his car broadside.”
David thought it was wildly inappropriate that she would expect him to remember what bones were named at a time like this. “The radius is…?”
She gestured to her forearm. “Arm bones. As is often the case with this sort of impact injury, both bones in the forearm were broken.”
Wincing, David asked, “Can I see him, please?”
“Not yet; he was taken into surgery a little while ago to stabilize the arm. It has to be operated on right away because there’s a risk of infection when the bone is exposed.”
The next thing David was aware of was Alexis guiding him down into a chair. “Okay, just lean over and put your head between your knees,” she said while David tried to figure out why his vision was narrowing. He felt sweaty. Alexis disappeared for a minute, but he could hear her voice, off to the left somewhere. Also that doctor, the one who said Patrick’s arm was…
David fought the urge to throw up. It would be embarrassing to hurl all over the floor in the waiting room of Elmdale Hospital.
Finally Alexis was back. “Are you gonna pass out?”
“No. I don’t think so.” He lifted his head. “What did she say after the thing about his…”
“Bone sticking out?” Alexis asked unhelpfully. David put his head in his hands. “That they did a CT scan prior to surgery and that he was alert but concussed. You’ll be able to see him once he wakes up from the anesthesia. And they’ll have a better idea tomorrow how long he’ll need to be in the hospital.” She rubbed his back. “Do you want me to get you a cup of tea?”
David nodded. “I can’t believe this happened. Just like that.”
“Yeah, I’d like to get my hands on the driver of that truck,” Alexis said fiercely, and David couldn’t help but agree. He wasn’t a violent person, as a rule, but he’d make an exception just this once. Or he’d let Alexis have at him.
“He’s gonna be okay, though, right?” David asked, not liking the pleading edge in his voice.
Alexis was still rubbing his back, and she pressed her cheek against his arm for a second. “He’s gonna be okay, David.”
He startled, a thought occurring to him suddenly, and he fumbled for his phone. “I need to call his parents.”
“You have his parents’ phone number?” Alexis asked with a grin.
“Yeah,” he said. “I mean, I’ve never called them, but I was starting to think about…” He sighed. He hadn’t wanted to tell Alexis about this until much closer to the event. “Patrick’s birthday is coming up in a few months and I was thinking about inviting his parents to a surprise party,” he said as he pulled out his phone.
“David, that’s so cute,” she said with a pout.
“So I managed to use Patrick’s thumbprint to unlock his phone when he was dead asleep one night and I put their numbers into my phone in preparation for inviting them,” he said as he scrolled through his contacts. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad; they can’t keep a secret,” he said as he pressed the button to call Marcy Brewer.
He’d only spoken to Patrick’s mother a couple of times, when she’d called the store after being unable to reach Patrick on his mobile phone. He’d handed the phone over to Patrick quickly after some brief pleasantries, but he’d gotten the impression of a friendly woman. Just the sort of person he’d expect to have raised Patrick Brewer.
“Hello,” came the maternal voice down the phone line as Alexis stood up, flopping her wrists towards her mouth. When he shook his head in confusion at her, she stuck out her pinky, miming sipping, before walking away. Right, she was going to get tea.
“Hi, Mrs. Brewer, this is David Rose calling.”
“Oh, David! How are you?”
“Um, well, not great. I’m sorry to have to call you like this, and let me start by saying Patrick is going to be fine…”
“Oh, dear. This is like the phone calls I used to get from his coaches,” she said, sounding surprisingly calm. “What happened?”
“He was in a car accident this afternoon and he’s in the hospital.” David felt tears pressing behind his eyes, and he ruthlessly swallowed them down. “I haven’t been able to see him yet, but they said his arm is broken. Also some ribs.” He decided to stop there, if for no other reason than he didn’t think he could go into more detail without needing to put his head between his knees again.
“Oh, my sweet Patrick,” Marcy gasped, sounding much less calm. “Why haven’t you been able to see him?”
“They’re… um… operating on his arm.” He braced his elbows on his knees. “It was a bad fracture.”
“Okay,” she said, back to sounding calm. “Clint and I will come there. We’ll be there in the morning.”
David wasn’t sure exactly where the Brewers lived, but he thought it was pretty far, and it sounded like she was implying that they would drive all night. “Maybe you should get some rest and leave in the morning?”
“As if I’d be able to sleep tonight, worrying about my boy,” she said. “He’s all alone there,” she said.
Frowning, David said, “I’ll be here. And my sister Alexis is here.” He wondered why she’d put it that way. Surely she didn’t think David would leave the hospital tonight, did she?
“That’s very sweet of you, David,” Marcy said. “I’ll let you know when we get into town, okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” David said, off-kilter from the conversation. His eyes fixed on a stack of pamphlets on the table next to him, where a smiling woman was entirely too happy about routine colonoscopies. “It’s Elmdale Hospital,” he told Marcy.
“Thanks, David. If you see Patrick tonight, please let him know we’re on our way.”
When a nurse finally came to tell them that Patrick was out of recovery, Alexis had fallen asleep across his lap and David had read the entire pamphlet about colonoscopies (and all of the other pamphlets within reach) front to back. He shook Alexis awake and bolted up from the uncomfortable chair, not looking back to see if Alexis was following.
The first thing he noticed were the cuts on Patrick’s face. They weren’t large; probably not worth mentioning in the context of his other injuries. Just tiny knicks in his forehead and left cheek from bits of glass, David assumed. But tears still welled up in David’s eyes when he saw those angry little cuts. Patrick looked like he was sleeping, his arm bandaged and immobilized within a plastic splint contraption.
“Why don’t they put a cast on his arm?” Alexis asked as David went to sit next to the bed.
The nurse who was fiddling with one of the machines in the room looked up. “They will once they’ve made certain there’s no infection.”
Patrick opened his eyes and his face cracked into a sloppy smile. “It’s David!” he slurred, then he turned to the nurse. “David is my very handsome boyfriend who’s very handsome. See, I told you.”
Alexis snorted, covering her mouth, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“What’s wrong with him?” David asked.
The nurse smiled. “He just came out from under general anesthesia. He’s been talking about you a lot.”
“Flying pretty high, Patrick?” Alexis asked with a smirk. She pulled out her phone and held it up.
“Put that away,” David snapped.
Patrick squinted at her like he couldn’t quite focus on someone that far away. “Hi, Alexis,” he said. “Thanks for coming to visit me in the hospital.” Then his head swung around to David again. “I love you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“I’m glad I’m here too,” David said around a lump in his throat. “I was worried about you.”
Patrick’s smile fell. “David?”
“Yes, honey?”
“I think I’m gonna puke.”