Patrick's Personal Card Ch. 05

"So if you get back on Friday, I guess we can start reorganizing rooms during the weekend?" Patrick did his best not to blush or sound too eager.

"I'll talk to Michael about your idea of him taking over your room. Maybe Grethe can help him plan how he wants it. It would keep him occupied while I'm gone." Peter hesitated and Patrick waited patiently for him to work out the next part. "The other room you planned for us to sleep in - should we look at it and decide how we want it done up?"

Patrick knew he'd gone a bit pale and Peter had his arms around the smaller man before he could speak. "It's OK, Peter. There's nothing bad about the room, except I've used it to store my parents' personal belongings, and clearing it out is going to be difficult. But maybe I can just move the boxes to another storage and go through them later." Patrick knew he'd get depressed by the task which was why he kept postponing. However, getting to share a bed with his boyfriend might be the incentive needed.

"Do you want me to help you? I don't mean with sorting your parents' things, but just be with you and carry boxes and make tea?"

"Yes please, Peter. Having you there to cry on and to comfort me with hugs and kisses would indeed help." Patrick wanted to giggle at the surprise on his man's face. "What, did you think I was too proud to admit how bad I'm going to feel about this job? I'll always be honest with you, and I expect you to tell the truth too. And it's only fair to warn you about the chances of me freaking out once I open the door to my dad's workroom. For the first time in more than three years."

"Why don't we wait then? I don't need to see the room right now, and we can take our time with making it into our bedroom. I'm sure Michael will be happy to have his dads sleep in his room for a bit longer. And I think he'll be fine with staying with moster Grethe some nights, as long as he can wake us up in the morning and cuddle between us. He often joined me on Sunday mornings back in Copenhagen, and we'd have breakfast in bed and chat about his week and make plans for the day."

Patrick kissed Peter, relieved to be able to push the matter aside for a bit longer. He was grateful for the considerate manner of his boyfriend in dealing with the anxiety and sadness which had probably been obvious. As he relaxed against the broad chest, Patrick once more sent of a prayer of thanks to his patron saint. 'Thank you St. Valentine for sending me a man who loves and cares and understands. I promise to treasure him forever.'

Okay time for another change of subject before he got too sentimental, and Patrick knew exactly what might cheer him up. "If we're not rearranging rooms this weekend, how would you feel about inviting some people or going out for a meal with them?"

Peter was clearly a bit taken aback at the sudden shift in conversation, but rallied quickly. "I suppose it would be OK. Who did you have in mind?"

"You remember the gay couple whose wedding picture I showed you? John and Anthony?" At Peter's nod he rushed on. "Well they came in to the shop yesterday to buy a card. And - ehm - they guessed I'd met someone. Fallen in love."

"How did they find out? Did they know you're gay?"

"No, I've never told anyone except my parents. They told me they'd wondered about me being gay but had no clue. But they saw the pictures of you and Michael near my work area in the shop. They thought you're handsome and he's cute, and I had to agree." Patrick wasn't surprised when this declaration earned him several kisses and a nibble on his neck.

"Also John said I was glowing."

"Glowing?"

"Umm, yes, sort of shining with love, you know."

"They saw pictures of me and when they asked you about me, you shone with love?"

"Yes, and John hugged me, because he was so pleased for me. They both congratulated me."

"John's the excitable redhead?"

"Yes."

"And Anthony is the tall dark silent guy."

"Exactly."

"A bit cliché isn't it?"

"I know, but they're great guys and perfect for each other. And I realize it sounds silly, but I have the feeling they could become great friends. So I asked them if they wanted to meet you. Oh and Michael of course. Ehm, this was after I'd gone on about you for a while and how happy you make me. They were eager to get together, and I promised to get back to them and suggest a time and place for dinner."

"I'd be delighted to meet them. Do you want to invite them here? I'm sure moster Grethe would love to make their acquaintance too. And just so you know, Patrick," he made a teasing break and leaned in to nibble Patrick's ear, "I can see your love for me shining in your eyes, and it makes me very happy," a playful bite on the earlobe, "and very hard."

Patrick had to adjust his own manhood which swelled in response to Peter's heated whisper. A sudden vision in his mind had him biting his lip to hold back a moan. Peter above him holding his naked torso raised on two strong arms, looking down at him with blue eyes full of love and desire. Patrick knew what he'd be seeing if he tore away his gaze and let it drop towards their joined bodies. His own legs spread wide to accommodate Peter's hips as the larger man thrust into him, again and again.

The tingling in his anus and scrotum warned Patrick to shut down the vision immediately or else suffer another mortifying incidence of creaming his pants. He gasped and moved his head away from the playful mouth nibbling suggestively on his neck. At the same time he became aware of a warm hand gently cupping the bulge in his pants under the table. Fuck, no wonder he was close to having an orgasm. "Peter stop that or I'm going to..."

Amused but tender blue orbs met the gaze of his panicked brown eyes, and Peter brought both hands up to cup his face. "Sorry sweetheart, I didn't mean to be pushy. But the way you reacted when I put my hand on top of yours was irresistibly hot." Peter's lips found his and Patrick melted into another mind blowing kiss. When they pulled apart, he put his head on Peter's shoulder and sighed contentedly.

"I love you, Peter."

"I love you too."

"And you're sure you want to get together with John and Anthony?"

"You like them and think we'll be friends with them, don't you? I trust your judgment."

"Yes I do, though I've never thought about them like that before. Well, I've only met them a few times and just as customers in the shop. Yesterday was the first time we talked as friends and about me." Patrick knew the reason for the change was meeting the love of his life. It had unlocked his emotions and made him capable of connecting with other people in a personal way.

Strange how he hadn't seen it before, but he'd only let himself sense the truth about how other people felt when it didn't apply to him. Or if their emotions were the sort to cause rejection on his part. Every time someone's interest had felt genuine, he'd walled himself away. Fiona's wish to be there for him, Mr. Archibald's vaguely paternal worry, the tentative enquiries from several of his parents' best friends, even the tight-lipped old lawyer trying to explain the ramification of his inheritance.

All of them had been trying to connect with him, to help him deal with his sorrow and loneliness in their own way. Patrick almost felt ashamed at his disregard for the people who apparently cared about him. He knew he'd subconsciously been trying to shield himself from hurt, but it was a stupid - and lonely - way to live. Meeting the two Danes had been the catalyst, being in their company had gradually weakened his walls, and Peter asking for Patrick to be his Valentine had breached his defenses. Another silent prayer of thanks rose in his mind.

They'd separated and gone back to the washing up by the time Patrick had finished his ruminations. After deciding Patrick should contact John and Anthony and suggest meeting for dinner at a local restaurant on Saturday, with the option of going back to his house for coffee, they continued with other practical matters.

"I'm going to buy a dish washer now we're four people in the house. Where should I install it?"

"Close to the sink is probably best, since you need access to water and drain. But you might want to ask moster Grethe for her opinion."

"Is she being honest when she says she enjoys cooking and wants to take over preparing meals?"

"Absolutely. As far as I can recall, dinners at moster Grethe always included wonderful food. It was something she shared with my uncle. They even took a couple of advanced cooking classes together. Michael likes to help her baking and she often finds small jobs for him when she cooks, so it works even when she'll be minding him." Peter hesitated and Patrick motioned for him to go on.

"On the other hand I know she hates cleaning and washing, so we'll have to share those chores or get someone to come in regularly. I don't want to impose on you or dictate matters in your home, Patrick, but it can't be helped. If we're to have Michael at home between treatments, the house has to be kept perfectly clean and stay uncluttered. Sort of the way you have it now."

Peter's smile was a little wobbly, but Patrick reassured him with a laugh. "It's a miracle! I used to think my obsession with keeping my home neat and clean would be an obstacle to a relationship. Either my boyfriend would drive me mad by being untidy or I'd scare him off by freaking over dirt in the corners. And now you're telling me it's something you appreciate. How did I get so lucky?"

The handsome Dane's reaction was the same wondrous delighted laugh which happened back when Patrick persuaded him to give in to Michael's wish and stay the weekend. But this time the hug was accompanied by a quick kiss. "I love the way you can find the silver lining on any cloud and turn my needs into a favor I'm doing you or something you want even more than me. You're the most wonderful man I've ever met, Patrick, and I'm proud and amazed we've become Valentines."

The shy card maker blushed and changed the subject. "I assume Michael won't be doing anything school related for the next months?"

"No, he'll be too tired and the danger of infection means he'll be limited in where he can go and how many people he can be around."

"What about a tutor to teach him English? We could start looking for someone who's willing to schedule lessons whenever Michael feels OK. Oh and I want to learn at least some Danish."

"Hmm good idea, both of them. I'll also look into DVDs and computer programs for teaching kids. But let's get settled first, and just hearing us talk in English may prompt Michael to start using the words he knows already."

As if the repeated use of his name had conjured him from the other room, Michael was suddenly next to them. "Jeg keder mig. Hvor er moster Grethe?" Peter took the hand of his son and walked back to the living room. Patrick finished the last bits and followed. The TV was off and Peter had Michael in his lap, talking earnestly. By the expression and replies of the small blond boy the conversation made him happy.

Patrick went over and sat next to them on the sofa and found himself hugged by two thin arms as Michael threw himself onto him, jabbering excitedly. He looked over at his boyfriend, almost sure he knew the reason why, and Peter confirmed his guess.

"Michael would love to take over your room. He wants to keep the bed and he likes the color of the walls but wants lots of posters. Not surprisingly, he's also keen on the entertainment unit idea."

Just then the front door opened, and Peter got up to help his aunt with her suitcases. Michael managed to convey his wish to join the rest of the family in the guest room, and Patrick was pleased to carry him to the room. The trust of this innocent boy gave as much healing to Patrick's lonely heart as the love of Peter and the support of moster Grethe did.

Secure in the knowledge of a new family making his home a joyful place, the card maker set out for another day at his shop and spent every unoccupied moment happily making plans for the future.

Translation of Danish phrases, in case you want to know:

"Papa, hvor var du? Moster Grethe, hvad lavede I?" = Papa, where were you? Moster Grethe what were you doing?

"Yrk altså, nu kysser de IGEN. De må da snart blive trætte af det." = Eww, they're kissing AGAIN. They should be getting bored with it soon.

"Far og papa kysser. Far og papa kysser. Far og Patrick er kærester." = Daddy and papa are kissing. Daddy and papa are kissing. Daddy and Patrick are sweethearts.

"Jeg keder mig. Hvor er moster Grethe?" = I'm bored. Where is moster Grethe?