Andrew nodded. “I really do.”
“I never really thought about alternatives, you know. I knew my whole life I was going to sign up.”
“What about after?”
“I guess I never really thought that far ahead.”
“Maybe time to start.”
“Says the guy who doesn’t know what he’d do if he wasn’t a she.”
“Touché.”
“Guess we both have some thinking to do.”
“I’ll help you if you help me?”
Patrick smiled. “Deal. Want to head home?”
Andrew smiled back. “Home sounds good.”
As they headed back out to the car, Patrick found himself daydreaming. He normally didn’t think of himself as someone who day dreamed. He was very much a guy with his feet firmly planted in the reality of right now. Sure, he and Christy had talked about what they wanted to see for Peter and his future, but for the first time, Patrick was finding himself imagining a future for himself.
And for the first time, he wasn’t seeing the army as part of that.
The cook idea had gotten into his brain, and as Andrew drove them back to the house, he caught a glimpse of his imaginary future self, busy in an imaginary kitchen, preparing dinners for the crowded restaurant on the other side of the imaginary kitchen doors. That door swung open and in walked an imaginary future Andrew. They were working together and living together and Patrick felt happy.
“You’ve drifted off again,” Andrew said. “Bored with me already?”
Patrick pulled himself back to the present. “Not at all. Far from it.”
“What’s going on in that GI Joe head of yours?”
“Lots, I guess. I always thought my life was pretty well planned. You really have disrupted that in every way imaginable.”
“Sorry, not sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s good.”
“Good.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” Patrick said.
“When? With us?”
“In the future.”
“No one knows.”
“I know, but I always have, or thought I did anyway. Now, everything is... I don’t know the word.”
“Fluid?”
Patrick nodded. “Yes. Exactly.” He placed his hand on Andrew’s knee.
“Not when I’m driving.”
Patrick grinned. “That’s no fun, but no.” He squeezed. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, or even what I want to happen. But I do know one thing.”
“Just one? That sounds right for you.”
Patrick laughed, and punched Andrew in the shoulder.
“Not when I’m driving!”
“Listen you! I’m trying to say something.”
“Okay okay okay, I’m listening. What’s this one thing you know?”
“That I want you there.”
“Where?”
“In my future, wherever and whatever it is.” It was a genuine feeling, and it felt good to say it. “I love you.”
Beside him, Andrew sat up straighter, gripping the steering wheel tighter. He was gorgeous, and Patrick smiled at the sight of those beautiful green eyes brimming with tears. “Gonna cry? Such a girl.”
“Only part-time,” Andrew said, sticking his tongue out. “And that’s toxic masculinity. Boys can cry too.”
“I’ll make sure you only cry happy tears.”
Andrew sniffed and then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “You’re a fucking sap today, you know that, right?”
“I know. Your fault though.”
“Sorry, not sorry.”
“Your turn though.”
“My turn for what?”
“I said something, and I thought we were all about keeping even.”
Andrew stuck out his tongue. “Fine. I love you too.”
“I know.”
Andrew laughed. “You’re such a...” He trailed off.
“Such a what?”
“I don’t even know. Where did you come from even?”
“Who can say, but aren’t you glad you got me?”
It was Andrew’s turn to reach over and place his hand on Patrick’s knee. It felt so wonderful, just sitting there, and it still sent a shiver through Patrick’s body. He didn’t think that would ever go away, and he knew he didn’t want it to.
“More glad than I would have ever thought.”
Patrick placed his hand over Andrew’s and slid it up his leg. “You should drive faster,” he said.
Andrew bit his lip and let out a small moan. “Yes, sir.”
EPILOGUE
When they arrived at the theatre, the line up was already stretching down the block. At the sign of it, Peter let out a groan of dismay, but Andrew, in the front seat, turned back and told him not to worry.
“We won’t be waiting in it, it’s all good.”
Patrick glanced in the rear view mirror to make sure Peter wasn’t too upset. It was hard to tell though. Peter was more than a little gender fluid tonight. He and Britney were in the back, both in near full drag. Andrew had painted both of them before doing his own face, and so here Patrick was, the only male-presenting person in the car.
How his life had changed!
To think that just a few months ago, the sight of Peter with long hair and flowing clothes had sent Patrick into a near rage. Now, he was parking outside of a theatre with his drag queen boyfriend and his drag queen son and his drag queen’s son’s drag queen girlfriend to go see this Bob the Drag Queen.
Yes, his life had changed and it was wonderful. And before the night was over, he suspected things were going to change again, and become even more wonderful.
They parked and walked back to the theatre, Ann towering over them in stilettos Patrick couldn’t even begin to fathom how she stayed upright in. And he intended on keeping that ignorance. He knew there was still a bet from the summer, about him wearing heels, but that had seemingly been forgotten about in the sprained ankle that happened after, and he certainly wasn’t about to remind them.
She was beautiful. Patrick could freely admit that. She wasn’t Andrew though. Ann was beautiful in a very different way. Andrew was beautiful in a way that still made Patrick’s heart skip and blood race and dick plump. Except for when he was Ann. Then, she was there to wow and dazzle and make him laugh, but that was that.
They both made him laugh. He had never laughed so much as he had these last weeks. He had never thought of himself as an unhappy person, but the level of happiness he had found since Andrew came into his life, it was unparalleled.
It didn't hurt that the sex was constant and hot and actually continuing to get hotter.
Tonight, Ann was a red-head again, her ginger curls piled high on her head. She'd promised Patrick she wasn't doing anything involving that eleven-inch-dildo, even though it was something she often threatened to bring out for Patrick. Andrew assured him though that the only thing going into Patrick's ass would be him.
“You're sure this isn't going to be too inappropriate for the kids?” he asked, for what was probably the tenth time.
Ann looked back at Peter and Britney. “Do they look like you need to worry about things being inappropriate?”
Patrick looked back and chuckled. Certainly, dragged up as they were, they looked disturbingly grown up. That bothered Patrick more than Peter in full drag. He was just growing up too fast. She was, he meant. Damn, even still, those pronouns fucked him up. Drag or not, his son would always be a he to him.
“And your friend won't mind us all coming backstage with you?”
“Bob? No. He's great. You can come back and meet him and then make a grand entrance to your seats in the front row. Everyone will be gagging with jealousy.”
“And you're joining us after your number?”
Ann nodded. “Can't wait!”
They walked past the line up, and security waved them through, earning them some groans and boos from the people waiting. Peter and Britney waved regal
ly as they passed, then giggled. He was having a blast with this, Patrick though. It was good seeing him so happy.
Peter's previously expressed concerns about Patrick going overseas again and leaving him seemed totally forgotten on a night like this, with Peter's first Ru girl. Patrick had been thinking about that a lot, and more and more, he kept coming back to cooking. He'd even looked into some night classes.
As soon as he could, he was out. He loved the experience. It meant so much to him to have served, but his time was done. He was grateful, beyond grateful really. Damon and Mike, his best friends in the service, had ensured his coming out on base had been essentially a non-issue. They’d even been over to the house with Andrew, and aside from the three of them ganging up on Patrick, it had gone better than Patrick could have ever dreamed.
The house. Patrick reached into his jacket pocket, his finger tracing the edges of the object within. The time was right. Fast, maybe. Certainly, really. But Christy had given the seal of approval, and it just felt right.
“Through here,” Andrew said, leading them out of the crowded lobby and into the wings.
Peter squealed, him and Britney clasping hands excitedly. Patrick chuckled softly. A parent’s role was to keep their kids healthy and happy, and right now, he could admit he’d done a good job. Peter was dressed in the best gown they’d been able to find second-hand, and even so, he was already a better man than Patrick had been at that age.
A better man in what Andrew called training heels, and a better man who, with a chorus of ohmygod’s, completely fan-girled over Bob when Ann introduced them. Patrick reached out to shake Bob’s hand, and flashbacked to when he’d done the same to Ann, that first Saturday at the library, and how he had made such a point of manning up his grip.
Bob’s grip was far more solid, but the look that passed between Bob and Ann made it abundantly clear that they’d shared the story. Patrick made a mental note to punish Andrew later for that, if he could think of a punishment that wouldn’t just lead to them fucking.
They took some pictures, which Peter and Britney immediately uploaded to their social media. Patrick was a bit worried about how people would react, seeing Peter all dragged up, but only momentarily. He hadn’t ever thought of himself as someone who worried about what other people thought, but this summer had showed him how wrong he was. He was trying though.
Ann’s performance was family-friendly and fabulous, and Patrick realized he’d just used fabulous if only in his head. Maybe those adjectives were starting to take effect. The theatre cheered and screamed, and Ann glowed on stage at the applause. She was her most beautiful when she had a cheering crowd, and Patrick knew that underneath all the make-up, Andrew was glowing too.
Ann joined them in the front row, and soaked up the compliments from the people around her. Patrick couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her, which only earned him a playful swat, but then the lights went down and the room went quiet. Peter poked Britney and they both began to squirm in their seats.
A spotlight fell onto the side of the stage, where an arm held out a purse. The room went mad. Actually, literally, mad. Patrick had seen combat zones that were quieter.
“Purse first! Purse first” Peter screamed, and Patrick was impressed he recognized the phrase from the show.
This was his life now, he thought as Bob walked onto the stage. It was pretty wonderful.
§
After the show, Patrick drove them home. He stayed quiet. The other three were making more than enough noise. At one point, Ann placed her hand on Patrick’s shoulder, and they smiled at each other. It was the simplest of gestures, and the briefest of glances, but suddenly all Patrick could feel was the weight of the object in his pocket.
They dropped Britney off at home and then got Peter home so he could scrub out. When he was back to a boy, Patrick tucked him into bed while Ann went to transition back to Andrew.
“You had fun tonight?”
“The best time ever!” Peter said. “Thank you , Dad.”
“I’m glad, son.”
“Are you asking him tonight?”
“I am. You’re still okay with that?”
“Yes! He’s great, and he makes you happy.”
“And it doesn’t hurt he’s friends with your favorite celebrities, hey?”
“That’s nice too,” Peter said with a shrug, “but it’s really just about how he is with you.”
“And he’s good with you too.”
“But, like, would he be my step-dad or step-mom?”
Patrick laughed. “Well, I guess that depends on the day, but let’s not jump the gun. It’s not time to get married yet. Let’s see if he says yes to this other thing first.”
“He will.”
“I hope so too.”
Patrick ruffled Peter’s hair, which was growing back nicely. Peter wanted it long again, and that was fine with Patrick.
“Good night, champ.” Patrick kissed his forehead, and moved to the doorway. “I know you’re still super worked up from tonight, but promise me you’ll try to get some sleep, okay?”
“I promise.”
Patrick flipped off the light and closed the door behind him. He could hear the shower running downstairs, so he knew Andrew was almost back to himself. It was tempting to strip off and join him in there, but the anxiety of what he was about to ask was getting the better of him.
He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for Andrew to emerge, his fingers fidgeting. He was pretty sure Andrew was going to say yes, but even for this, it was crazy fast, so there was always the possibility that Patrick had been reading things entirely wrong.
The door to the bathroom opened, and Andrew looked so good wrapped in a towel that Patrick almost forgot what he was about to do entirely. It would have been super easy for him to close the distance between them, rip that towel off, and drop to his knees.
Instead, he simply said, “Hey”, and tossed Andrew a key.
Andrew caught it, looked at it, and then looked at Patrick. “What’s this?”
“Figured you’d need your own key if you’re moving in.”
Andrew’s smile – immediate and broad – alleviated any of Patrick’s concerns. “Am I moving in then?”
“Are you asking me?”
“Isn’t it you asking me?”
“Just thought I’d throw it out there.”
“Literally.” Andrew said, waving the key. He walked over and straddled Patrick’s lap, causing the towel to fall off, of course. “You like having me around hey?”
“I do. I really do.”
“Well, why don’t you show me how much you like it?” Andrew leaned down and kissed him. “Then I can show you how much I’m going to say yes.” He kissed him again.
Patrick didn’t know if Andrew pushed him down, or if he pulled Andrew down, but he did know it didn’t matter. They could be pretty competitive with each other, but in bed at least, they always balanced out.
§
Andrew woke up before Patrick and immediately rolled away. Patrick shifted around under the sheet but didn’t wake up. Carefully, Andrew pulled back the sheets and got out of bed. He gingerly ran across the carpet to the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him before turning on the light.
The magic of any relationship, he knew, began to fade the first time the other person was confronted with the reality of morning in all its messy-hair and skanky-breath horror.
He brushed his teeth and flashed back to the night before. Seeing Bob on stage again had been wonderful of course; he was a true talent and a genuinely good friend. That had paled next to Patrick’s surprise though.
The thought of moving in together didn’t even feel fast. It just felt right. Andrew certainly hadn’t been looking for this to happen, but now that it had, he couldn’t imagine his life any other way.
(We get it. You’re happy)
It was beyond happy really. Andrew hadn’t really believed in happy endings for a long time. He’d seen too many fairy tal
es in the gayborhood end in curses and drama. Patrick though, what they had together, it seemed solid.
He spit and rinsed and washed his face, and then clicked off the light ready to sneak back into bed. When he opened the door, Patrick was standing there, and jumped past him into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
“Oh no,” Patrick called. “I see what you’re doing there.” Andrew could hear the running water, and Patrick’s next words were muffled as he brushed his teeth. “I thought maybe you gay guys had some supernatural skills, the way you woke up so fresh every morning. I didn’t know you’d just been sneaking in here.”
Andrew chuckled. “There’s lots you don’t know yet, my little apprentice.”
Andrew jumped back into bed and pulled the sheets over him, arranging himself just so. He heard the water turn off and the door opened. Patrick looked at him. “Not posed at all,” he said.
Andrew laughed and threw back the sheets, inviting Patrick in. “Get in here and give me a kiss.”
Patrick jumped onto the bed instead, pinning Andrew down. Their lips met, just briefly. “Minty,” Andrew said, after they pulled apart.
“Gotta make sure I taste good for you.”
“You always do,” Andrew said, reaching down and squeezing Patrick’s perfect butt.
“I didn’t mean that!” Patrick rolled away, laughing.
“Dad? Andrew?” Peter called from the hallway.
“We’re up, Champ,” Patrick said, pulling the sheets up to his waist. “You can come in.”
The door opened. Peter had his phone in hand, bracelets down that wrist. “I thought you’d sleep all day.”
“Not quite,” Patrick said.
“Did you ask him?”
Andrew saw Patrick smile out of the corner of his eye. “I did.”
“I hope you said yes,” Peter said to him.
“That cool with you?”
“Yup! Just go easy on the smooches when I’m around, okay?”
They both laughed. “One day, you might not mind so much.”
“Nah. Parents kissing are gross.”
Andrew felt his heart swell. That was the logical next step, he guessed. If he was living here with Patrick, he really was becoming a parent in a way. Luckily, they’d already done a great job with Peter; there were guys at the Torch who were far less mature than this kid.
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