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“I’m actually glad we went,” Patrick says, when they’re back in his apartment. He can’t fully keep the nerves out of his voice, and he knows David doesn’t miss it, the way he shoots him a pointed look as he slips out of his leather jacket. 

“Oh, are you?” David smirks. 

“I am,” Patrick insists. “Even if it didn’t...go like we planned.” 


“I’m glad we could do that together .” 

He hangs his own jacket on the rack by the door, and David floats over to him, drawn like a moth to Patrick’s bare arms. He envies David’s teeth, which are toying at David’s lips. He wonders, not for the first time tonight, if he would’ve envied Jake, had they actually, you know. 

“We didn’t actually do anything, though,” David pouts. His fingertips are cold on Patrick’s biceps, but they warm him right up. 

“It’s not too late, you know,” Patrick murmurs, settling his arms in their rightful place around David’s waist. He likes the thin material of this t-shirt. As much as he loves David’s sweaters, as much as they feel like an extension of David, he likes being this close to him. “And having sex with you was always part of my plan for the night.” 

“Oh!” David’s eyebrows rocket up in mock surprise. “So you are still interested in your fiance.” 


“I’m kidding.” David’s hands flutter onto his shoulders. “Mostly. I know tonight wasn’t - I know you - it’s a habit to say it,” he manages to get out, and Patrick loves the obvious strength it takes for David to make eye contact. “Even if I don’t necessarily feel that way, anymore.” 

“You know I could only consider any of this because you’ve made it okay for me. If I’m attracted to other men, it’s really thanks to you.” 

"Okay, that’s not-” David’s face squishes in on itself, which shouldn’t be attractive. “That’s not at all how it works-” 

“I love you,” Patrick says easily, and every line on David’s face, every tension in his body smoothes out. “And obviously there’s still a lot we’re figuring out in our relationship, but that’s...exciting, right?” 

David fights a smile with his signature sideways scrunch. “Yes,” he nods, almost sounding sure. “And for the record, I’m glad you feel comfortable feeling attracted to men. Even if they aren’t me.” 

“It’s kind of a tiered thing, though?” Patrick muses, tilting his head and tugging David closer. “Like sure, objectively, Jake and Ted and Miguel and-” 

Okay -” 

“They’re hot,” Patrick laughs, and maybe he still blushes when he says it, but it also gives him a little thrill. He’s spent enough time ignoring objective truth - his objective truth - to marvel at its simplicity. “But they’re not in the same league as you, David. They’re not even playing the same sport. Not to me, anyway.” 

“So in the future, if we want ball,” David says, testing the metaphor, “you and I are a team, but... we can figure out the rest from there? Like other players, different stadiums-” 

“God, you’re so sexy when you talk sports,” Patrick growls, and they kiss, finally, sweet like Patrick wants but also with the extra charge of the misdirected adventure of the evening. “But yes,” he affirms, his lips at David’s ear when they separate. “A team. Before anything else.” 

David tilts his head back with emotion, unwittingly baring his soft throat to Patrick. Not submission, but trust. “I like that.” 

In the end, Patrick thinks, as David peels him out of his admittedly too-tight shirt and Patrick requests that David wear his leather jacket and nothing else, the night is a success regardless. He still went home with the hottest guy there. But that was never in question.