'Am I too heavy?' Patrick whispered in Kevin's ear, as he lay on top of him, squashing his face into the mattress.
'You're a lightweight' Kevin replied, turning his head to the side, trying to draw in deep breaths, trying to recover from his fucking amazing orgasm. 'In every sense of the word' Kevin continued, teasing.
'That's not what you were saying seconds ago' Patrick chuckled, biting his ear. 'I think I remember you saying I was magnificent beyond all compare. The most majestic and supreme lover you'd ever had.'
'Sure. Sounds like something I would say' Kevin murmured, feeling the post sex haze coming over him.
Patrick rolled off him to his side, and, leaning up on his elbow, started drawing his little patterns on Kevin's back. Kevin smiled...content.
'Now that's how one christens a new bed' Patrick sounded very smug.
'So much for all that talk about the window'
'Oh don't you worry. That will definitely happen. One day, probably very soon' Patrick smiled, leaning over to kiss Kevin's neck.
'You're all talk Patrick Murray'
'Am not! What about all the things we've done these past few weeks!'
'What things? Which ones are you referring to?' Kevin pretended to be confused.
'You know. Those...things' Patrick blushed.
'You're going to have to be a lot more specific. You might have to describe 'those things' in detail if you want me to actually remember what you're talking about. Lots and lots of detail. Start at the beginning and I'll tell you when you can stop. ' Kevin deadpanned.
'You're such an ass. I really don't know why I love you.' Patrick huffed as he turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. Kevin smiled as he stared at Patrick's profile.
'I know. I'm difficult. Sorry. How can I make it up to you?' Kevin asked as he skated a hand over Patrick's chest and moved it slowly down towards his...
'NOT like that. Not now.' Patrick grabbed his hand and pinned it to his stomach. 'We have so much work to do. There are like a thousand boxes we need to unpack, and we have those drinks tonight and then the benefit thingy, so what you can do is clean up this mess, because you're the one that said keeping the plastic on would be easier to wipe clean, and then, we need to make a start on unpacking.' Bossy Patrick was back. Yay.
But he was right about the boxes. Kevin wanted them unpacked as quickly as possible too, so they could make this place their own, so it could feel like a home. However, with their furniture still not delivered, where the hell would they put all of their stuff? Clothes were easy, toiletries, the minimal kitchen equipment they'd each brought with them...but nic nacs, treasures, stuff like that, they would have to wait for furniture. Which meant there were going to be living with some boxes for a while, because while Patrick still had practically no clothes, he had box loads of other fucking stuff, like books, magazines, trinkets from travels, art stuff from Agustin, even crap from his time at Berkley. His boy liked to collect stuff, and he didn't like to let stuff go.
Kevin didn't complain though. Not once. From the moment that Patrick had told him last week that he was ready to move in, Kevin had been the model of a supportive, helpful boyfriend. He knew the slightest thing could send Patrick into one of his freakouts because he had the mother-load of all crap news dumped on him, ironically by his mother.
And so far, he'd been impressively calm about it, almost philosophical. Still, however much he might insist that his mother developing feelings for another man and contemplating leaving his father was completely within the realm of the things he could handle, Kevin was keeping an eye on him for signs of anxiety. It was never easy when your parents split, whatever stage of life you might be at, but what concerned Kevin more was the uncomfortable parallels between Dana's story and his own. Yet another thing he had in common with her. However, Dana had chosen to act very differently. She had not started an affair, but was taking the time to consider, to ponder, to decide what she wanted to do about their father before committing to anything with this new man. And the contrast between her actions and Kevin's was a little bit too stark for Kevin's comfort.
Patrick hadn't told him very much about his conversation with Megan because Dana's news had overshadowed everything else. All he heard was that Jon was still confused and hurt, which Kevin already knew from the e-mails and texts he still got periodically, and that Megan thought Kevin was an asshole. Since the feeling was mutual, Kevin wasn't much bothered about her opinion, but he didn't want Patrick's relationship with her to continue deteriorating. They'd have to work on that. After the holidays.
His priority now was Patrick, and making this transition to their new place as smooth and drama-free for him as possible.
So Kevin had not protested when Patrick refused to hire a moving company to pack all his stuff in boxes for him. Patrick had insisted that he go through everything himself, supposedly so he could choose what would follow him and what could be discarded, though judging by the fact that the discard pile barely filled one trash bag, Kevin suspected that this was more of an excuse for Patrick to look at his collected memories and get to tell Kevin all his stories. It was just as well that Kevin fucking loved his stories. All of them. From the slightly melancholy ones about his lonely, isolated, confusing childhood, to the wilder, happier ones of his more recent past. Therefore every evening this past week they had been packing Patrick's stuff up, and he had learnt more and more about Patrick, and he was so stupid with love that he found everything he learnt fascinating and wonderful and special. Because it was about Patrick. God help him.
Kevin did notice that there wasn't much tangible proof of their history together. No theatre playbills, no postcards from trips, no business cards from swanky restaurants. But that would change now. He was going to make sure Patrick had boxes and boxes to fill with all the crap that they would accumulate from all the stuff they were going to do together from now on.
The only thing Patrick did have as a memento for them was a broken glow stick, and Kevin had almost thrown that out the night before move-in day not knowing why the hell it was even on a shelf, but Patrick had caught him and saved it at the last minute.
'Oh my god, you can't throw that away!' Patrick exclaimed, snatching it out of Kevin's hands and holding it protectively.
'It's a glow stick. A broken one. Why the hell are you keeping a broken glow stick?' Kevin asked.
'Don't you remember this? It's our glow stick. And by the way, it was also a flash light before it ran out of...whatever it uses for power.'
'Our glow stick? Patrick, what are you talking about?' Kevin was confused.
'The night of the Russian River? I was wearing it? You really don't remember?' Patrick pressed him, obviously hoping for a stronger reaction.
'I'm sorry babe. I was a little distracted. By your...hotness?' Kevin tried. Patrick sighed.
'It's ok. A fairy in the woods gave it to me. Literally, a fairy, in the woods. He told me to let it light up my life and let it guide me, and then a minute later I was swallowing Molly and heading for the wildest fucking party I have ever been to.' Patrick laughed.
'Fucking Agustin. Drugging you up like that. The way you react to pot he must have been insane to give you ecstasy.' Kevin grumbled.
'But it was fantastic. I really did feel everything was so much brighter, and simpler and clearer. And it made me so fucking horny...'
'For which I am indeed grateful.' Kevin interrupted Patrick, and leaned forward to give him a kiss.
'You SHOULD be grateful, but not for the Molly because by the time you drove up I think it was mostly out of my system. You should just be happy that I chose to wait for you rather than work out my horniness with the cute guy in the cap.' Patrick said, as he linked his arms around Kevin's shoulders and pressed small, fleeting kisses across his face. Kevin pulled back and frowned, staring at Patrick.
'What cute guy?' What the fuck was Patrick talking about.
Patrick's eyes widened as he stared back.
'Didn't I tell you about him?' he seemed surprised. Kevin shook his head, waiting.
'Ok. Well, while I was dancing, definitely high and just having a good time, finally just being...fucking happy...this incredibly hot, totally insanely amazing looking guy walked up to me, and without saying a word, we just...started making out.'
'Oh. Really.' Kevin really had no right to be annoyed. The night Patrick was talking about he had been lying in bed with another man himself, and anyway, he knew how the story ended. With him driving up to the Russian River and fucking Patrick against a redwood tree. Still. He didn't like the way the story was starting. A cute guy, Patrick making out with him, obviously dealing with difficult feelings because it took Molly to finally make him happy. And Kevin could just bet who had caused those difficult feelings. It was a little frightening to think how the evening could have gone completely differently, and how Kevin might not even be standing here if Patrick had chosen to get his rocks off with cute-cap-guy.
'So why did you call me? Why didn't you have sex with the cute guy in the cap?' Kevin had to know.
'I couldn't fuck him.' Patrick shrugged. 'He was probably one of the most gorgeous men I've ever seen...' Now he was just deliberately being a dick, Kevin could tell...'but, he wasn't you. And I realized that the only person I wanted to fuck that night was you. So...I called you.'
Kevin grinned. He liked that. A lot. He leaned forward again for a kiss.
'I'm glad you called me. Really, really glad.' Kevin whispered against Patrick's lips.
'So am I. Though it defeated the whole purpose of the weekend.' Patrick sighed.
'I thought you were staging an intervention for Agustin?' Kevin nuzzled Patrick's cheek with his nose. He loved his soft smooth skin. He could feel Patrick's smile with his face, but when he pulled his head back, he saw that it was a sad smile. His eyes roamed Patrick's face, trying to understand the change in mood.
'I was also trying to stage an intervention for myself. I was tying to wean myself off you, stop wanting to see you, trying to stop whatever it was we were doing at that point. I had thought if I could get away for a weekend I could just sort my head out and do...the right thing.' Patrick spoke quietly, almost as if the memory was painful, difficult.
Kevin dropped his forehead against Patrick's. His own feelings about that time in their relationship came rushing back. He remembered how he had known Patrick was pulling away, how he had tried to pin him down before that weekend, tried to get to see him, but that Patrick had avoided him, had become distant, withdrawn. And he had been frantic. He hadn't known what to do to keep him, and he'd known that he was nowhere near ready to let him go. Kevin had sensed something changed that weekend, because that very night against that redwood tree, their relationship had moved from fleeting fucks when the stars aligned, to a full fledged affair. And Kevin had been so fucking delighted.
'I knew you weren't happy with the way things were. And I knew that you had come to some sort of decision that night, because after that, you were different with me. It was like a light switched on and you were back to being the Patrick that I'd met at the beginning. So I guess I should be grateful to the hot guy?' Kevin mused.
'No. You don't need to be grateful to him. I already knew by then that I couldn't get you out of my mind. I kept checking my phone all day for messages from you. Even if I had fooled myself that I could easily be with someone else, even if I could have fucked hot guy, just seeing you again would have made it start all over. I was fucking addicted.'
'Until you weren't' Kevin couldn't help but say. 'Until that night at Esta Noche when you ended it with me.'
Patrick nodded slowly.
'I didn't think you'd ever leave Jon. I really didn't. And by then it wasn't just casual anymore was it? And how I felt wasn't going to make any difference if you didn't leave Jon. It would only get worse, for me. I had to...walk away. I'm sorry.' and Patrick took Kevin in his arms and held him close while he pushed his face in Kevin's neck.
'You don't have to be sorry. You did the right thing, for you. The thing I couldn't do. I'm the one that's sorry.' Kevin whispered into his ear. 'But I'll make it up to you. I promise. From tomorrow on, it's just going to be you and me, and I'm going to make you so happy every fucking day.'
'I can't wait' Patrick murmured quietly before they fell silent, just standing there, holding each other.
'Actually...do I have to wait?' Patrick eventually asked.
'For what?'
'For you to make me happy. Do you think you could make a start on that now?'
Kevin laughed. However busy they were with furniture shopping, packing, sorting out moving companies, all that crap, the one thing that hadn't suffered was their fucking sex life. Definitely a little monster in the making. Kevin was almost beginning to feel old. Almost.
'What have you got in mind?' he asked Patrick, his body quickly adjusting to the idea that very soon some part of one of them was going to be in some part of the other. It was all delicious, all good, so he had no preference for tonight. Tomorrow, in their new place, he had plans. But tonight, it was all about Patrick.
'Nothing kinky. And it has to be quick because I have to finish packing my stuff before the moving van comes in the morning to pick it up, so...why don't we just see what happens?' Patrick replied, beginning to remove Kevin's clothes, smiling as he kissed his face.
Kevin walked Patrick backwards to the wall and pinned him there as he returned the kiss, letting it grow slowly from tender and loving to hot and desperate. This was the last time they were going to fuck in this bedroom. The last time Kevin would have to worry about roommates and thin walls. The last time before the rest of their lives started in their brand new apartment, and they could fuck on every surface, in every room, in as many ways and as many times as they wanted. This was the night before the biggest day of his fucking life. He would make sure this was a night to remember.
And it was. He drove Patrick mad, absolutely wild, out of his mind. He fucked him against the wall, then pushed him to his knees on the the floor and fucked him there, then pulled him up onto the bed and fucked him there too. Every surface of Patrick's room. And all the time, as he pushed into Patrick, as he sucked at his lips, at his nipples, at the skin of his neck, he told him over and over again of how he was going to do this in every room of their new home, how he was going to fuck him outside in their garden in the summer, fuck him over the railings of their balcony at night, fuck him on the kitchen counter, in their huge new bathtub, over the sink while Patrick had to look at himself in the mirror, and of course, against the huge windows while all the neighbors looked in. Patrick had protested at that.
'That's my idea' he'd panted, barely able to speak. Kevin just smiled and kept fucking him. And at the end, as he came, he hadn't been able to carry on talking in full sentences, so he just whispered Patrick's name over and over, and Patrick's eyes had rolled back in his head and he had exploded.
...
Waiting for Patrick this morning had been difficult. Kevin had left him sleeping to make sure he was on time for the delivery of the bed. The moving van had to stop by Patrick's first and would then make it's way over, and Patrick had arranged a last brunch with Agustin and Dom so they could say goodbye properly. Kevin should have just insisted he come over as soon as the van had left his place, but...he knew it was important to him to have this time alone with his friends. Still...it was fucking hard having to wait for him.
The boxes had all been delivered and he had nothing to do but make a start on the unpacking. He grinned as he opened the first of his boxes. There were his posters. Kevin Costner in the Field of Dreams. However tough he tried to be, however hard he had tried not to let sentiment affect him, this story always fucking got to him. The idea of making peace with your parents, of finding some common ground, some resolution...it was powerful stuff. His own mum and dad were still alive so maybe he should actually do something with the lesson of the movie, but it was easier to live vicariously through Mr. Costner knowing it would all turn out alright, rather than have to live through the real thing himself. His dad was no John Kinsella.
Kevin laughed as he took the poster out and looked around for the perfect spot to hang it. At least now he had a chore to do other than unpack, which he dreaded more than anything.
Finished with the poster, he took out his phone to check for messages from Patrick. Surely he couldn't be too much longer. He couldn't wait to share his first impressions of the place. The realtor was not joking when she had mentioned how many gay people lived in this building. Just on his trips through the corridors as he directed the moving guys he had seen more buffed, tanned, sculpted gay men than he usually saw at his gym in the mornings, and that included the moving men themselves! He wondered how many glory holes there were around here. Kevin smiled as brought up the Glorified app and waited for it to find his location. Jesus...San Francisco was a fucking crazy city. Who the hell was using all these holes these days, when you could just get your dick sucked by a stranger in any bar, in any gym, even from the comfort of your own home just by using Grindr for god's sake. Which reminded him...Kevin opened up his Grindr app and looked at the profiles popping up on his screen. Fucking unbelievable. He definitely recognized some of the people he had met in the lobby. He loved technology, but really...this was insane. He could pretty much know who was lurking about in this building at any point in time, because it was probably safe to say every gay man in this city had Grindr on their phone. Hysterical.
Fuck...that had wasted all of about five minutes. What was he supposed to do now? There wasn't even a chair to sit on yet, though he could go up to the roof garden...
Finally, he felt his phone vibrate. Yes! Patrick was going to be here in the next half hour. About fucking time. Kevin had picked up some basic groceries to stock their fridge, and some special exotic fruit so he could make Patrick a welcome home cocktail. Never too early to drink on moving in day. He dragged out his blender and started chopping up the fruit. Jesus, his hands were shaking. And yes, his pulse was racing.
He was SO FUCKING EXCITED this was actually happening. They'd fricking made it. And very soon, he and Patrick would be fucking in their own bed, for the first time. Life really couldn't get any better.
Someone must have buzzed Patrick into the building, because Kevin heard him knocking at the door. 'Shave and a haircut' Patrick knocked. Kevin grinned as he knocked out the reply, 'Two bits'. And then there he was. Grinning from ear to ear, carrying his box of precious valuables, which probably included his magical glow stick.
'Get your cute ass in here Patrick Murray' Kevin laughed. 'Shoes off, this is a no footwear home, OK?' he instructed Patrick.
And then 'Kiss me' he said, and their first kiss was so ordinary, like they were two old fuckers who'd been living together for years already. Kevin grinned even more as he went to pour a drink for Patrick. Who had almost immediately noticed the Field of Dreams poster. Apparently Patrick was not quite as enamored of the movie as Kevin, but they had time ahead of them to change that. Kevin would get him on board soon enough, just as he had managed to do with Blackadder. The man's taste in movies and tv shows just needed some more refinement. No fucking problem.
Kevin brought Patrick his drink, and took a moment to just stand still, take a deep breath, and acknowledge this moment.
'To moving in, and moving on' Kevin toasted Patrick.
'To both those things' Patrick took a drink.
'Oh god that's good' he said, but all the signs were there. He was breathing erratically, his eyes were wide, and his hands were tapping his thighs. He was a fucking nervous wreck. And there he went, on the move, not able to stand still for another second. Ok. He was anxious, and it was only to be expected. Kevin knew how to deal with this. It was a little earlier than he planned, but he was nothing if not flexible. First confront, then distract.
'Are you Ok?' he asked Patrick quietly, moving towards the window where Patrick stood, looking out.
'What do you mean?'
Ok, they could play it this way.
'Saying goodbye to Agustin and everything? I know it's a speedy step...' Kevin said.
'No, I'm good. This...it feels right. I was just telling the guys this morning...' Patrick seemed a little calmer.
'They think it's too fast' Kevin could just imagine.
'A little bit' Patrick confirmed. 'Yeah actually, kind of a lot. They probably think I'm crazy, but...' Patrick gave a little laugh
'Do you think you're crazy?' Kevin pushed. They had discussed this several times, but now that it was a reality he wanted Patrick to be able to say it again, out loud, to his face.
'No. Not even a little bit.' Patrick was so emphatic. So sure of himself. It was lovely to see.
And as Patrick spoke of how he was finally liberated, how he got to make up his own rules of how they got to live, how he no longer had anything to live up to but his own idea of how his life should be, Kevin felt a tinge of sadness, that it had taken his parent's marriage imploding to make him feel free of their expectations. But...if Kevin got to reap the benefits, then, he was not going to complain.
'...we get to make up our own...way' Patrick had ended, almost seeming a little surprised at how his life had turned out, at how he had found himself at age 30 finally believing he was in control of his own destiny.
'Well, I'm glad that I get to make it with you' Kevin added simply, then leaned in to kiss Patrick, avoiding his mouth at the last minute and pulling Patrick into the bedroom.
'Look at that view' he crowed, not able to contain his sheer glee at having reached his goals in life, at having escaped what had seemed like his unavoidable fate having been born to a drunk and a weakling, in a dump like Romford. 'I swear when I was a kid, I never thought in a million years I'd live somewhere like this. Above everyone. If those fuckers could see me now' he continued. But...no time to dwell on others. He was here, with Patrick, which was the best prize he could ever imagine receiving for all the hard work and grind he'd put in to outrun his past, and they were about to have their first fuck in their new home.
God this man was gorgeous. Kevin started stripping. He wanted them naked as soon as possible.
'Wait, can people see in?' Patrick was laughing. Maybe, but Kevin could give a shit. He pushed Patrick back onto the bed.
Patrick was still laughing and still trying to protest, feebly.
'Wait, shouldn't we take the plastic cover off first?'
Kevin climbed on top of him. Now he had Patrick exactly where he wanted him. No anxiety on his face, just laughter, a little shyness, and lust. Fucking excellent combination.
'Nah.' Kevin joked. 'It will be wiped clean this way'.
And then he fucking devoured Patrick's mouth. He pulled his head up, plunging his tongue in deep, trying to pull off his clothes. He wanted skin. He wanted heat. He wanted sex. Now...
...and with just a slight delay, a quick detour to answer the door to their persistent fucking neighbors, Kevin got what he wanted.
Falling back on the bed, face down, he gave Patrick his instructions.
'Now come on quick. 'Fuck me in the butt' time. Before someone else rings that fucking bell.'
And Kevin was happy to see that Patrick used this special 'fuck me in the butt' time well. With imagination, determination and thoroughness. His clever, talented Patrick fucking Murray.