AN: For Sam, with love.
Brad feels weak when he finally catches Patrick alone. For all his bravado, he's just a scared kid in love but unable to do anything about it anymore.
Faggot.
He'd been hurt, and he'd wanted to make Patrick hurt just as much. It had been stupid, childish. But it had done the job, and now Brad wishes he could take it back.
"Patrick, I-"
But the apology is cut short as Brad chokes back a sob.
At first, Patrick doesn't say a word. He just holds Brad and lets him cry between incoherent mumblings of I'm so fucking- s-s-, just as he'd done that night that night when Brad had told him he loved him.
"I know," Patrick says at last, and they kiss, both ignoring the salty tears that slick their skin.
Brad can taste the finality in the kiss. They are broken beyond repair, and they can never return from this.
"I love you," Brad whispers, not wanting to let go. "I still love you."
But Patrick turns away, unable to look him in the eye. "I love you, too."
Brad only wishes it could fix everything.