“Oh?”
“Only when I told her I was the... you know, the bottom.”
“What the fuck, Patrick?” Andrew howled with laughter. “How did that even come up?”
“Honestly, I don’t even know, but it did.”
“Nothing like easing her in gently, hey?”
“It just came out!”
“And so did you,” Andrew said, wrapping his arms around him. “Proud of you.”
Patrick returned the hug, then went to kiss him, saw the face, and started laughing again.
“Fuck off.” Andrew slapped him again and turned away. “I’m going to go finish.”
“You’re very pretty!” Patrick called out.
“Shut up! Are you coming later?”
“How can I say no to a face like that?”
“I hate you!”
“No, you don’t. You looooooooooove me.”
“You two are gross,” Peter said, stepping out of the bathroom, his face scrubbed. “Can we go?”
“Yes. Say goodbye to Andrew.”
“Goodbye to Andrew,” Peter called out.
“Very funny.”
“Can you text me a pic when you’re done?” Peter called.
“Sure thing, champ,” Andrew yelled.
That Andrew had adopted Patrick’s nickname for Peter wasn’t lost on Patrick. It brought a warm tickle to his heart. “Let’s go,” he said to Peter, running his hand over Peter’s head. “It’s already growing back so much,” he said.
“Good,” Peter said. “Britney likes the long hair better.”
Patrick closed the door behind them. As they walked down the hall, he said, “You know, you don’t have to do what anyone likes, hey? When it comes to your hair or anything?”
“I know.”
“What do you like better? That’s what matters.”
“Long.”
“Then long it is,” Patrick said. “Whatever makes you happy.”
“Happy like Andrew makes you?”
That warm heart tickle grew bigger. “Like that.”
“I’m glad Mom is okay with it. I like Andrew.” Peter trailed off, and then got a frown on his face.
“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked.
“I just thought of something.”
“What?”
“If you guys got married, do I have to call him Dad when he’s in drag?”
Patrick laughed. “That’s a good question, but I think there’s still lots of time to figure that out.”
“Boys can marry boys, you know. It’s not that crazy.”
“I know that. It’s not crazy at all. It’s just very, very, very too soon for that.”
“Yah, that’s basically what Andrew said too.”
“What? You asked Andrew about us getting married?”
“Kinda.”
“What did he say?”
“That it was too soon. That’s too bad.”
“Why?”
“I like him,” Peter said.
“I like him too.”
“And I like that he makes you happy.”
“That doesn’t mean we need to get married right away. He’s not going away.”
“But you will be,” Peter said.
Patrick stopped. “What?”
“Eventually, I mean. You’ll need to go back overseas or something.”
“Not necessarily. What’s this about?”
“It’s dumb.”
“Nothing you say is dumb.”
“Well, first you left when you and Mom split up, and then you left when you went to Afghanistan, and I just thought, that if you and Andrew got married, maybe you wouldn’t go away again.”
Patrick dropped to his knees and carefully took Peter’s shoulders in his hands. “You know that has nothing to do with you, right? Neither of those things mean I love you one bit less.”
“I know.” Peter looked down at his feet. “I just like having you around.”
Patrick hugged him close. It was easy to forget, he thought, that Peter was still so young, because he was so mature for his age, and so understanding, and so accepting. That Patrick’s absences really bothered Peter, hadn’t even occurred to him. He thought Peter understood. He and Christy had talked to him, before the divorce, before Patrick’s tour.
As he drove Peter to Christy’s, that warm glow in his heart faded into a cold heaviness. He had some thinking to do.
ANDREW
The applause was deafening.
(Of course)
They loved the Queen of Hearts. They loved Lucy Lewd. They even loved this new fishy queen, Areola Grande, Cardi B wannabe that she was, but there was a special place in the Torch audience for Ann Moore.
She stepped off the stage to a thunderous ovation, her heart beating in time with the clapping, and then her heart beat even faster.
He had come.
She wasn’t sure if he would. Still, that doubt lingered, that this was too good to be true. But no, when she stepped off the stage to claim her waiting tequila, Patrick was leaning against the wall like he had been the other time.
And the way his shirt stretched across s chest, it was all she could do not to take him right there.
“You came.”
“Of course.”
“You liked?”
“Of course. You know you’re every bit as good as one of those ones on TV.”
“Oh stop,” she said, waving her hand. “I mean, continue, but stop.” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Drink?”
He lifted his beer at her. “I’m good for now. Are you staying like this? In drag, I mean?”
“I can scrub out.”
“Thought we could hang out here for a bit anyway. I’m sure you don’t want to rush out.”
“I want to do whatever you want to do.”
(Now now, don’t be needy)
“I guess I need to get used to being around here,” Patrick said. “I mean, if I’m dating their star.”
“Actually, I’d be the star,” Lucy said, stepping between them.
“She wishes,” Ann said, pushing Lucy gently out of the way.
Lucy, wearing her classic kimono look, pouted playfully, then laughed. “But it is good to hear that it’s official.”
“That what’s official?” Patrick asked.
“That you’re dating our Ann here.”
“Well, I’m dating Andrew anyway. Ann is just the other woman I have to work around.”
“He’s getting cleverer,” Lucy said. “Keep him.”
“Was planning on it,” Ann said. “Patrick, shall we?”
She took him by the arm and led him to a booth behind the bar. “I am glad you came. Everything is good?”
“Well...” Patrick trailed off and shrugged.
“Christy?”
“Peter actually.”
Ann listened to what had happened after Patrick had left. “Damn. So what’s the plan?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
“He’s so mature, it’s easy to forget he’s still so young.”
“Exactly. I had no idea he felt so abandoned.”
“He knows you both love him.”
“I know.”
“And he knows how important your army career is.”
Patrick shrugged again. “Nowhere near as important as him though,” he said.
“He knows that, I’m sure. What would you do?”
“If I was out? When I get out? I don’t know.”
That Patrick was anxious was obvious, and there was an obvious cure for it. Ann waved down Keith, who was working the crowd in black booty shorts, and ordered two more beer and shots. Alcohol wasn’t the solution, of course, but it was a solution.
(Science jokes? Really?)
“Sometimes I wonder what I’d do if I was ever bored with Ann.”
“And?”
“And I don’t have answers either. Maybe it’s something we both need to think about. I guess neither of us will be doing what we are doing forever.”
<
br /> “It’s not just what I do though,” Patrick said. “The army. It’s who I am.”
“I think this is where I came in.”
“Sorry?”
“Didn’t we have this talk our very first night?”
Patrick smiled. “I think you’re right.”
“You did a great job on the deck. Maybe something in construction?”
“Ugh. That’s the best you can come up with? I thought you were the smart one.”
“The smart one. The funny one. The good looking one. It’s a burden.”
“The modest one, too.” Patrick finished off his beer. “Look, do you want to get out of here? No offense to your friends or the space, but I just want some one on one time.”
“Oh?”
Patrick grinned. “Fucking is a good distraction.”
“You don’t need to ask me twice. Can you amuse yourself with another beer? I can shower here in the back and we can head to yours?”
“Sure.”
It was the fastest Ann had ever reverted to Andrew. The thought of being inside Patrick again made a tuck impossible anyway. Out of the shower and back in boy clothes, Andrew made a point of ignoring the knowing looks from Lucy and the Queen as he passed by them.
“We know what you’re doing!” Lucy called out after him.
Andrew felt his face heat up. He didn’t care that they knew though. He didn’t care who knew. A hot and wonderful guy wanted to have sex with him. There was certainly nothing wrong with that at all. His ex knew, his son knew, and he was more than ready.
He came out of the back, back into the dark thump-thump-thump of the club. Patrick was sitting there in the same booth, and Andrew could see the gays hovering. Of course they would be! Patrick was gorgeous and new and had that straight guy vibe happening — that was a nearly irresistible combination.
Andrew shut down the immediate jealous reaction. Patrick was not like so many other guys.
Still, Andrew caught himself puffing up as he walked up to the table and asked, “Ready to go?”
Patrick looked up, his expression quizzical. Then he looked around, and looked back at Andrew, and smiled. “Yes. Let’s go.” As they headed towards the exit, Patrick whispered, “Jealousy is a cute look on you.”
“What? I wasn’t jealous.”
“Ok.”
“Well, maybe a little. I know these people. They’d be all over someone like you.”
Patrick held the door open for Andrew. “They can try,” he said as Andrew passed by, “but they won’t get anywhere. Proud Andrewsexual, remember?”
Andrew remembered, and he smiled bashfully. “I know but...”
“No but,” Patrick said, reaching down and taking Andrew’s hand. “I don’t have eyes for anyone but you. Men. Women. Pans. Anything.”
“Clever,” Andrew said, and he leaned in, resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder.
“What the fuck?”
They turned. Andrew recognized the two men standing behind them and felt Patrick freeze.
(Shit)
PATRICK
It had to happen eventually. He knew that. But he hadn’t expected it to happen like this.
He should have guessed maybe. It had been a Sunday he’d seen them before, heading past the Torch to the strippers. That they’d be there again wasn’t that unlikely. Damon and Mike liked their routine, just like Patrick did.
He had turned to face them and frozen. He was aware of Andrew’s hand in his. He was aware of the shock on both their faces. He was aware of how the breath had caught in his chest, of how his heart seemed like it was refusing to beat. He was aware of the traffic passing them in the street, the other people walking along the sidewalk, the rainbow flag blowing from its pole outside the club.
He could see what was going to happen. He could deny it, and lose Andrew, and they probably wouldn’t believe him anyway. His hand was still holding Andrew’s. He could admit it, and they’d probably lose their shit, and he could see them fighting in the street. He would defend Andrew. They could punch him if they had to, but they wouldn’t lay a finger on him. They’d tell everyone, and his career in the army would derail, and that would be that.
But it didn’t matter. There were moments in life when you had to stand firm. This was one of them. He squeezed Andrew’s hand.
“Hi.”
“Hi?” Damon said. “That’s what we get?” Damon’s eyes travelled down, to where Patrick’s hand held Andrew’s. Andrew tried to pull away but Patrick held tight.
“I don’t know what else to say.”
“What is this?” Mike asked. “Are you a gay now?”
They wouldn’t understand. They couldn’t. They wouldn’t find some kind of Andrewsexual explanation cute or endearing. Patrick had no choice. “Maybe I am.”
“Fuck. So, who’s this? Your little boyfriend?”
“Yes.” He felt Andrew squeeze his hand back. “This is Andrew.”
Damon looked at Mike and Mike looked at Damon and then they both looked back at Patrick. “What the fuck? When did this happen?”
“It just happened.”
“Jesus.” Damon took a step forward and Patrick readied himself. He would jump in front of Andrew. He would beat them both down if he had to. Damon stuck his hand out towards Andrew. “I’m Damon.”
What was this?
Andrew pulled his hand free and wiped off his palm before shaking Damon’s hand. “Andrew. Nice to meet you.”
“Mike here.” Mike and Andrew shook hands. “What’s wrong with you? Couldn’t do better than this ugly troll?”
Andrew laughed nervously. “I know. I’m slumming.”
Damon roared. “More than slumming. I thought the gays had taste.”
Andrew shrugged. “We also like doing charity work.”
In disbelief, Patrick slugged Andrew’s shoulder. “Hey!” Was that it then? Were they both really fine? He could feel the tickle of relieved tears welling up in his nose and eyes, but he knew that would be too far. Maybe him having a boyfriend hadn’t set them off, but him crying? That would be fodder for them for years.
“Why didn’t you say before?” Mike said. “When we saw you here.”
“I don’t know.”
“You probably don’t want to come see titties then, hey?” Damon asked.
Patrick smiled. “No, I think I’ll pass.”
“Your loss.” Damon turned to Mike. “Let’s go.”
“Beers this week though?” Mike said, and Patrick nodded.
They walked off, laughing.
“That went well.”
Patrick grinned. “That went amazing.” He paused. “Also, fuck you.”
Andrew looked at him. “What?”
“Slumming? Dude, you’re lucky to have me.”
“That I am,” Andrew said, and he slid his hand into Patrick’s. “Get me home, and I’ll show you how lucky I am.”
“Deal.” Patrick pulled him in for a kiss.
§
Sunday morning might be the more traditional brunch slot, but Andrew insisted they go out the next morning. Patrick had said he was happy to cook something at home, but Andrew wanted to go out, and Patrick found it impossible to say no.
They went to the Duchess, which offered a weekday waffle menu that Andrew described as “delectable”. Clearly, Patrick realized, he needed to work on his adjectives. Maybe coming out gifts included a dictionary and thesaurus because they language certainly was different. It had taken him so many episodes of Drag Race to know what Andrew and Peter were even saying.
“These are good,” Patrick said, “but nothing I couldn’t have made at home, you know.”
“I know,” Andrew replied, around a mouthful of waffle. “I haven’t been here much lately, and it’s good to get out.”
“You’re just making sure I’m not embarrassed to be out in public.”
“Hardly. I’m the one slumming it, remember?”
“You’re a funny man.”
“Glad you think so.�
��
The restaurant wasn’t busy. They’d gotten a late start to the day as it was. Waking up naked together had led to a blowjob Patrick couldn’t refuse. It was a great way to start the day, that was for sure. The things Andrew could do with his mouth! Patrick hoped he was even half as good, and couldn’t wait until brunch was done and they could get home and go again.
“And how was everything this morning, gentlemen?”
It was John. Patrick recognized him from their previous visit. “Good,” Patrick said. “Very good.”
“Even if you could do better yourself?”
Patrick blushed. “You heard that, hey?”
John smiled. “I don’t miss much.”
“This was very good. I didn’t mean anything.”
“All good. I’m looking for another cook though, if you’re looking to put your kitchen skills to use.”
Patrick stammered. “Oh, I’m not... I mean, I didn’t mean...” He looked at Andrew imploringly.
“He’s an army boy,” Andrew said. “He just likes to cook.”
“Very well. Can I get you anything else?”
“Just the bill,” Patrick said, “but no rush.” John nodded and walked off.
“You could, you know.”
“Could what?” Patrick asked.
“Cook. You love it. You’re good at it.”
Those were both true, Patrick thought. Still, he had no training really. Maybe if he hadn’t signed up, maybe that was where he would have gone. He’d always loved it. His mom had taught him everything she knew while he was growing up, and after his dad passed, he’d taken over most of the cooking.
“Earth to Patrick?”
He looked up. “Oh, sorry. Went into my own head there.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot. We were just talking last night, is all. You could.”
“Nah. I’m good for a dinner at home, but to do it professionally?”
“There’s always culinary school.”
“True. I don’t know. I’m a bit old to be a student.”
“I don’t know about that,” Andrew said. “You’ve been learning lots lately.” He reached across the table and took Patrick’s hand. “And you’ve picked things up pretty well.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Can’t. You’re too hot.”
“Look who’s talking.” He grinned, then paused. “You really think it’s something I’d be good at?”
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