A gay story: Patrick’s Personal Card Ch. 03 Patrick didn’t want the kiss to end. He wanted this incredible dream to last forever. The one where he’d just had the most amazing day of his life, being proposed to by the man he loved. A little voice in his head said ‘you’re gonna have to breathe at some point you know’, but Patrick just ignored it. Having Peter’s lips on his, his strong arms holding him tight, their hearts beating at the same speed was making him dizzy with joy. He couldn’t get enough.
But when Peter’s tongue worked its way into his mouth and a firm hand cupped one ass cheek, Patrick broke the connection with a shuddering gasp. His lover was instantly contrite. “I’m sorry, Patrick. Got carried away for a bit there.” A quick grin. “Forgot we’re not quite married yet.” Then Peter turned serious. He kept hold of Patrick’s hands and looked into his eyes. “I guess we’ll need to talk about this. And please don’t be embarrassed.” The blue eyes hadn’t missed the blush rising on the innocent man’s face.
Patrick felt torn in two directions; the earnest expression of his boyfriend calmed him but the prospect of revealing his utter lack of experience scared him. The supportive angel in his head tried to tell him that Peter loved the idea that his Valentine was pure. But the devil of doubt soon got the upper hand. ‘Yeah I’m sure he’ll love popping your cherry and knowing that no other guy has tapped that tight little ass. But when he finds out you’ve got no practice sucking a cock, no clue in spite of all the porn you’ve watched, your stud won’t be so pleased. And he’ll soon be tired of you playing untouched, nervous and reluctant, and of waiting for you to be ready.’
Patrick wanted to reach into his own head and strangle the offensive little bastard. How dared he sully Patrick’s longing for the physical lovemaking he wanted with Peter with such crude words! But someone else cut off the wicked laughter which followed the nasty tirade. “Patrick my love, I know you’ve never been with anyone. It makes me so proud to be your first, but no matter how much I want you, we’ll have to wait with actual sex. Not because of you, but because of me. I hope you can forgive me.”
The anxiety which was apparent in Peter’s voice instantly focused Patrick’s attention. What did his boyfriend mean by that? “I want to go to a clinic and have tests to be sure I haven’t got any sexually transmitted diseases. I know I don’t have any of the bad ones, but I want to be certain of everything. Because even though I’ve always been safe with anal sex, I haven’t with oral and with women.” Peter seemed determined to be brutally honest, and Patrick didn’t mind. Actually he was relieved to be handed the perfect excuse to wait, even if he longed for Peter to make love to him.
“I don’t mind, Peter. But kissing and cuddling is OK, isn’t it?” Peter smiled and nodded, and he reached out to capture his love in another hug. However his mobile phone went off, and with an apologetic glance at Patrick he picked it up and answered. While Peter spoke in Danish with whoever was on the phone, Patrick decided to tidy up the tea things and get ready for bed. Even though it was only nine o’clock, he was tired, and Peter was probably worn out too. And Patrick needed to be at the shop early tomorrow.
When he returned to the living room he heard Peter say his name. He couldn’t help glancing over and the blue eyes caught him. Patrick wanted to leave, because he knew he’d get upset by not knowing what was said. But his boyfriend came over and took his hand. “What do you want to know, sister dear?” Uh oh, Peter’s voice was playful but with a sharp bite. He’d only talked sparingly about his younger sister, calling her a bossy bitch and a nosy matchmaker. In spite of the harsh words Patrick had the feeling that Peter was fond of Kathrine, and he’d praised her for being a continuous support with Michael.
“Yes my boyfriend is in the room and I’m not talking about him in Danish. Even if it means I can’t be completely honest.” He grinned at Patrick, when he started to frown. “Well he seems to be unaware how gorgeous he is. And even though I think he’s cute when he blushes, I’m not going into detail about him being handsome and sweet and clever.” Another smirk, “Mainly ’cause I’m not taking the risk that he’ll get mad. I want to sleep in his bed tonight.” Lots of high pitched squeaking in the phone as Patrick blushed crimson. “Well, I’m afraid that’s too late. Michael is already sleeping in the middle of the bed and he expects both of us to be there when he wakes up.”
A long silence during which Peter bit his lip, probably to prevent himself from laughing out loud. He brought Patrick’s hand up and kissed it. His sister seemed to say something, and now the blond Viking laughed. “It’s not my fault that you jump to conclusions, Kat. I distinctly recall sayingsleep in his bed.” His blue eyes sparkled with mirth as he listened to a long tirade, but suddenly became intense. “Oh yes, I’m completely serious. Patrick is the man I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with. The three days Michael and I have been in his company are happiest I’ve ever had. I’m still pinching myself occasionally to be sure this wonderful guy has really agreed to marry me.”
This time the excited screams at the other end were so loud that Peter winced and removed the phone from his head. Patrick just stood there with his mouth open and the weirdest feeling in his guts. The little angel in his head was running around whooping with joy ‘yes, yes, I knew it, the hunk has fallen hard, and he’s yours forever’. Even the sarcastic devil seemed to find the situation funny, but for once Patrick was able to ignore the niggling voice telling him that Peter’s family might not be as welcoming as he supposed. Once it got quieter, the handsome Dane gingerly brought the phone back to his ear. He listened and replied patiently, but rolled his eyes now and then.
“I don’t know when you’ll meet Patrick.” A pause, “No, I can’t just bring him back with me. He has a shop to take care of.” Peter squeezed the hand he was holding. “In any case I’ll be busy packing and sorting out everything for moving over here… yes I know you’ll help and I’m grateful. I want to go back home as soon as possible.” A small smirk, “You know Michael will miss me and I think Patrick will too. I’ll miss them more though.” The penny seemed to drop for Patrick and Kathrine simultaneously and Peter’s voice turned smug. “Yes, that’s right. Our home is here with Patrick now… No, I don’t have to ask Michael, he already told me so.”
Finally Peter managed to end the phone call with a few more assurances that he knew what he was doing and was insanely happy. He pulled Patrick into a long hug and both men clung to each other. The silence was soothing and the closeness strengthened their bond and reduced the tension. With a sound that was half sigh and half chuckle Peter nuzzled into Patrick’s neck. “I love my sister, and she means well, but she drives me crazy sometimes. She’s almost worse than my mum.” The embrace tightened. “I love you so much Patrick. And don’t worry, my family will love you too, once they see how happy you make me.”
His Valentine seemed to be developing an uncanny ability to work out what Patrick’s devil of doubt plagued him about. But he wasn’t going to complain if it shut the silly bastard in his head up. In any case there was an even more urgent matter. Or maybe intriguing was a better word. “Peter, when did you and Michael talk about having your home with me?” His boyfriend pulled back slightly and looked at Patrick who rushed on to reassure him. “I want that too. I’m over the moon that you’re staying with me. I love you both and my home will be wherever you are.” He relished the way Peter’s eyes lit up with joy at the heartfelt words.
“Well, it’s not that I’ve told Michael about us directly. But when the hospital agreed to treat him, he knew that we’d stay in London for several months. After I brushed his teeth tonight, he told me that he didn’t hate the idea anymore.” Peter sniffed and wiped his eyes. “He said: ‘I’m okay with doing all that nasty hospital stuff as long as I get to come home to you and Patrick in between.’ He likes your house and he adores you almost as much as I do. I think he instinctively knows you’re the kindest person in the whole world and he feels safe here.” This time Patrick initiated the hug and held his love tight as the larger man shuddered with suppressed sobs.
Just as in his vision on Valentine’s Day he kissed Peter’s cheek and neck, whispering comforting words in the ear hidden below soft golden hair. Once Peter had calmed down, they sat on the sofa, and he poured out all of his worries and hopes and fears about Michael. Even if it was emotionally draining Patrick felt pleased and proud that his boyfriend shared the burden weighing on his mind and heart. Wasn’t this what being a partner in love and marriage meant? And the fact that Peter needed Patrick’s support and not just the other way round showed that their relationship would be equal.
Of course this was the moment that the two voices in his head joined forces again and giggled. ‘It’s all about giving and taking. Why don’t you ask him if he likes both?’ Luckily at the same time Peter shook his head and chuckled at himself, saying his sister would’ve been clucking and worrying about him at this stage. “She’s the only one I’ve had until now to confide in. But it feels so much better with you, Patrick. You listen and sympathize and you understand that I just need you to be strong and calm. And once it’s over, you don’t want to go on and on discussing every little point to bits. I don’t know if it’s because you’re a man or just because you’re you.”
From that point their talk developed into Peter telling his Valentine all those sweet things that made him blush and grow hot and turned his insides to mush. But Patrick was smart enough to realize that he craved this. He felt like an almost wilted plant which unexpectedly received a soft shower of revitalizing water and nutrients. The rain of compliments and kisses and touches and loving whispers in his ear made him unfold and recharged the part of him that had been stunted by the death of his parents. Patrick knew he needed the love and honest approval from people he cared about in order to be fulfilled and happy as a human being.
His parents had given him that every day, the unconditional love and affection, the guidance and rules and approval that a child and youngster needs, and most of all acceptance and obvious pride in the man he’d become. Once Patrick started to read the many heart wrenching coming out stories on gay internet sites, he appreciated his parents even more. He’d never worried about being gay or what his parents’ reaction would be. In fact his coming out at the age of fifteen had been undramatic and quite funny, when he looked back years later.
His mother had been reading a movie review in the Sunday paper and was gushing a bit about the handsome actor whose portrait filled a whole page. He was bare-chested and looked sexy as hell. When his mum had giggled about how hot he was, Patrick had blurted out his agreement. Her only reaction had been a stern look and the admonishment “I think he’s too old for you, dear. You should go for a guy your own age or just a couple of years older.” The next thing Patrick knew they were having a great time discussing the merits and looks of actors, sports stars, guys in his school and the neighborhood.
His father had fled the breakfast table for his work room, but when Patrick went up there later, nothing was different. Oh, his dad had insisted on having the safe sex talk, which was awkward and embarrassing, but Patrick knew it was done out of caring and protectiveness. Dad had even managed to joke, “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you getting a girl pregnant by accident.” They’d laughed, but the comment had a serious background. Just two months earlier he’d overheard his parents discuss one of his unknown cousins. At the time his dad had been furious with his sister, who according to him had neglected her responsibilities as a mother.
Patrick had never heard his dad be so vicious and loudly condemning, which may have been the reason he’d stopped outside the kitchen door and eavesdropped. “She didn’t get her sixteen-year-old daughter on the pill when Fiona got a boyfriend. She didn’t even bother to buy her condoms and tell her to insist that her boyfriend use them, if they had sex. She just told her ‘not to do anything naughty before she was married’. Fucking Hell my sister is an even bigger idiot than I thought.” Patrick could hear the quotation marks in his dad’s voice, and he wasn’t surprised when the next part of the talk was about Fiona getting pregnant.
Patrick left at that point, not wanting to spy on his parents when they discussed private things that were none of his business. He was curious of course, but it was more like idle gossip because he’d never met this unfortunate cousin. And later on he realized that the distress and anger he sensed from his dad upset him to the point of nausea, making him flee the situation. Apart from the safe sex talk a couple of months later, the knowledge stayed buried and forgotten until his parents died. After all, the fact that his dad was fine with his son being gay and treated him no differently was a much more important memory.
At the funeral of his parents the tidbit about Fiona surfaced again, and it was actually one of the few pleasant memories Patrick had from those awful days. He’d been introduced to a mind-numbing gaggle of relatives, most of which seemed to frown or fawn at him. Now that he thought about it, he’d mostly been confronted by his parents’ generation and he only had vague recollections of their various offspring. But one pretty young woman had approached him and given him a hug before he could prevent it. Afterwards he was actually glad, because the contact made him realize that she was sincere.
“I’m Fiona, your cousin on your father’s side. I’m very sorry about your loss, Patrick. Your parents were the most generous and kindhearted people I knew, and they helped me ten years ago, when I needed it. If you ever…” At that moment they were interrupted by the most haughty of his aunts, and Patrick soon worked out that this was Fiona’s mother. He retreated back into his shell of grief and rejection and nothing more came of the brief contact. Except that he observed that Fiona didn’t have a child with her, so the problem of her pregnancy must have been solved one way or another.
All of these ponderings managed to keep Patrick occupied and slightly absentminded as he agreed with Peter’s suggestion of going to bed. They collected Peter’s beddings from his room, and his boyfriend also grabbed sets of clean clothes for himself and Michael. They took turns in the bathroom, with Patrick being last, and it was while brushing his teeth that he had the epiphany. Why had he assumed that his cousins were as bad as their parents? OK some of them had regarded him with disdain or indifference, but Fiona had been nice and he could recall younger faces looking shy and sad. They stayed in the distance, but Patrick’s attitude probably hadn’t encouraged them to talk to him.
Maybe, just maybe he could get in touch with Fiona and see if she felt like meeting. If that went well, then he could consider approaching a few other cousins. Fiona might know who were nice and might accept him no matter the money issues that marred his relations to their parents. Or the fact that he was gay. He walked into the bedroom feeling unusually content considering his mind was on his estranged family, only to have every thought but one driven out of his head. “Oh man he looks good. Yum. I want some of that!” Peter was standing at the end of his bed, naked except for a pair of black boxers and the sight took his breath away.
“I wasn’t sure if you prefer one side of the bed, so I thought I’d wait and ask.” Patrick managed to shake his head and indicate he was indifferent. Peter picked up his duvet and moved to the side closest to the door. “I’ll take this side, just in case Michael needs help in the night.” His voice was low, but it was clear that he wasn’t too worried about waking his son, who was sprawled in the middle of the huge bed, fast asleep. Patrick stayed rooted to the spot a few steps into the room and feasted his eyes on the gorgeous body of his man. The only light came from the corridor behind Patrick and the small bedside spot which had been turned on to the lowest possible setting. But it was enough to reveal Peter in all his glory – well nearly all.
Patrick’s eyes were drawn to the bulge in the black boxers; the size was impressive even though Peter’s manhood was clearly at rest. He couldn’t help wondering how large it’d be at full mast and longing to see it uncovered. Two small voices in his head started teasing him, causing a blush to spread over his face. Patrick dragged his gaze up, just to be caught by the muscular and hairy torso, which did nothing to silence the damned devil or a flustered angel. ‘Oh my, he’s so manly and strong. Imagine cuddling in his arms every night! Aren’t you lucky.’ The tiny angelic figure was jumping up and down in excitement next to the smirking evil counterpart.
But strangely enough Patrick didn’t mind the bawdy suggestions flung at him, maybe because he knew they would be real at some point, but not just now. ‘He’s gonna hold you down and fuck you senseless. But you want it, don’t you? You want this big strong Danish Viking to rape, pillage, and plunder your body, eh? To ravage your mouth and your ass and make you ride him until you shoot your spunk all over his hairy chest.’ Inside his head Patrick shouted back “Yes that’s exactly what I wantafter I’ve shoved my dick up his butt and claimed him as mine.” He nearly had a fit of giggles as the devil’s face contorted in surprise and he evaporated in a puff of dust.
Patrick hadn’t thought much about whether he’d like a hairy man, but he sure considered this specimen to be utterly sexy. Peter only had a fine dusting of blond hair on his arms and legs, and from the quick glimpse he’d had of his back, that seemed smooth too. But there was a large patch of dark blond curls on his boyfriend’s chest as well as a distinct treasure trail, and tufts of hair peeking from his armpits. Patrick’s fingers itched to play with the hair and caress the skin over the firm pecs and abs, pinch the nipples and find out if they were sensitive like his. Oh yeah and he wanted to kiss and smell and bite and…
The sound of a throat being cleared intruded, and Patrick’s brown eyes lifted to meet amused blue orbs. “Do you want me to put a T-shirt on, or is it OK, if I sleep like this?” Patrick blanched then flushed, his whole body going from cold to hot at the realization that he was completely busted ogling his semi-naked boyfriend. And even worse: Peter got into bed and stared back with an expectant smile and the awkward truth hit the blushing virgin. He was fully erect and now he was supposed to undress in front of his lover who no doubt looked forward to the show. Why, oh why had he ever agreed to sharing his bed so soon?
He knew asking for his Valentine to close his eyes would be futile, and a small and naughty part of him whispered that it’d be unfair too. Peter deserved to see his future husband almost naked and suffer the consequences of unrequited lust and want, just as Patrick would. He bowed his head to hide a small grin at the thought of doing – well maybe not a striptease, but a shedding of clothes that would definitely tease and tantalize. No matter that he was unused to compliments on his looks, Patrick knew his body was trim and well-kept. He despised false modesty just as much as bragging, and shyness and inexperience was his problem, not worry that Peter wouldn’t find him attractive.
So he removed his sweater and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pausing now and then to sneak a look at Peter. His man’s attention was completely riveted and Patrick had to bite his lip to avoid giggling. When he shed the shirt and strolled over to chuck it in the laundry basket, he allowed himself a smirk at the deep sigh from the bed. He kept his back to Peter while he removed his socks and belt and then he turned round and took a couple of steps towards the bed. Casually he scratched his neck with one hand and let it drift down over his smooth chest, grazing an erect nipple on the way, and continuing down to the button on his trousers.
The expression on Peter’s face was well worth it. He did nothing to hide the desire and want, and he was completely enthralled. This was so much fun, and Patrick decided he would do anything to keep his Valentine gazing at him like that. Unbuttoning and unzipping had Peter licking his lips and swallowing, and Patrick pinched himself hard to avoid bursting into a laugh. He began pushing his trousers down, but suddenly turned his back as if shy. But of course this just meant that his ass was on display and in a pair of rather tight briefs too. A quick peek over his shoulder after he’d dropped his trousers and bent over to remove them showed Peter’s gaze was fixed as expected.
Patrick didn’t quite wriggle his butt as he walked back to the laundry basket, but he sure felt like doing a small victory dance. He looked down and adjusted his hard-on so that it was pointing towards his right hip and in no danger of escaping the confining briefs. Then he turned around and walked to his side of the bed as if he was oblivious to the fact that Peter was ogling his package and literally panting at the sight. Deciding to get one last tease in before getting under cover, Patrick paused at the edge of the bed. “Like what you see, darling?” It was the first time he’d used an endearment, and he almost recoiled at the heated look it earned him.
Peter’s blue eyes held his and Patrick’s dick lurched and shed a tear of joy at the unbridled lust which rolled in waves from the blond man. The answer to the question came not in words, but by Peter removing the duvet hiding his crotch. The unexpected flashing only lasted a few seconds, but long enough for Patrick’s gaze to take in what he’d already suspected. Even though Peter’s boxers reached his navel, they only barely contained his engorged manhood. Patrick quickly slid beneath his own duvet and Peter switched off the light. A whispered goodnight drifted across, both of them aware that a kiss was too dangerous.
Even though Patrick was tired, he couldn’t relax enough to sleep. The vision kept intruding, and he fluctuated between aching desire and a touch of fear. He’d never seen any porn or picture that made him so eager to masturbate, and the frustration that he couldn’t was driving him crazy. Outlined by the soft black boxers even the short flash had left no doubts that Peter’s erect manhood was huge. Long. Thick. Not obscenely or impossibly so, but enough to make Patrick worry about the potential pain associated with penetration and having Peter take his virginity. Which he was still passionately determined to initiate as soon as possible.
But maybe he should buy a bigger dildo first. His dick launched another blob of precum in his briefs at the thought. Patrick might be inexperienced with actual sex, but for the past four years he’d owned a couple of sex toys. Once he’d acknowledged that casual sex was not going to happen, he’d bought a dildo to expand and improve his lonely self-gratification. No one was here to find out and judge him and at least he’d be better prepared, if he did meet Mr. Right. Except that the toy resembling his own dick in width and girth, while being a challenge for the first many sessions, was nowhere near what he faced now. Or soon. Hopefully.
Thus the need for something larger to practice with. Once this concept was firmly entrenched, the next one popped into his head. ‘Maybe Peter would like to help.’ The vision which replaced that of Peter lying in his bed with an impressive boner just from watching Patrick undress was even more compelling. Patrick naked on all fours with Peter behind him pushing a huge dildo into his ass, while both men jerked off. Oh yes, I want … Patrick had barely indulged in the fantasy for two minutes before the inevitable happened. He only had scant moments to react, but managed to get his hand into his briefs in time.
He bit into his pillow to prevent his cries of ecstasy from escaping as his balls unloaded several blasts of cum into his palm. His whole body shuddered as the most intense orgasm he’d had for months swept through him. It was like having a wet dream while still conscious, but at least he wouldn’t wake with soaked underwear. Luckily he was on his side with his back to Michael and Peter, and he carefully milked the last drops into his hand before bringing it to his mouth to dispose of the evidence.
Once he’d calmed down a bit, he turned over on his back to sneak a look at his bedfellows. The steady breathing and small snuffling noises of Michael had already reassured him that the boy was asleep. For a moment he thought Peter was too and that the incident would remain secret. But then his boyfriend lifted his head. “Patrick, did you just…” The sentence was left unfinished probably in case Michael woke up. But the incredulous tone left no doubt that he was busted once again.
“Ehm yes. I’m sorry. I … eh … I have a vivid imagination. It was an accident, I didn’t mean to. It just sort of happened. I didn’t even touch … ehm you know.” Which was the truth, but he’d flexed his hips just enough to create friction against his underwear and the fold of bedding against his groin. “Sorry. Anyway, it was your fault. If you hadn’t removed the duvet…” Suddenly a large hand came over and stroked his hair, moving down to cup his cheek and the thumb slid onto his lips to silence him.
Love and awe shone in the fond words. “Oh Patrick, sweetheart. Don’t fret or apologize. I’m proud that just having me in your bed will cause such a stunning response. I’m envious too. And I may have to take a quick trip to the bathroom. Do you need a towel or something?” At Patrick’s whispered reply that he’d solved the problem ‘manually and orally’ Peter groaned and fled the room. In less than five minutes he was back and slipped under the covers again with a relieved sigh. This time their goodnights were soon followed by blissful sleep.
The next morning Patrick woke to the unfamiliar sounds of two voices whispering behind his back. In his sleepy state he tried to work out what was going on but apart from his name the words were mostly unintelligible. Weird – oh no wait, he had two Danes in his bed, one small and cute, and one big and hot. Very hot. Ehmm maybe he shouldn’t think about that, or he’d have some serious morning wood to contend with. Patrick lifted his head to see what the time was, and grunted as a body impacted him from behind. “Good morning, Patrick. Breakfast, please?”
He was smiling even before he turned over and saw Michael’s blue eyes and happy grin. The boy was clearly proud that he’d managed to communicate in English. Behind him Peter was wearing an even wider smile and Patrick’s heart beat faster at the sight of his handsome boyfriend. ‘Oh man that’s just what I want to wake up to every morning. My Valentine smiling at me. Oh and maybe a kiss and a cuddle. Preferably naked and…’ Patrick stopped that train of thoughts once more, knowing where they’d most likely lead. Instead he spoke to Michael: “Yes, breakfast. Pancakes?”
“Pandekager.” The translation from Peter had Michael squeal with delight and jumping up and down. Right then he didn’t look like a child with a heart condition, but Patrick knew from Peter’s random remarks and his own observations that the slight boy tired easily. However, the real danger was infections and anything else that put an undue strain Michael’s body. His heart wasn’t up to dealing with extra work, but if he rested frequently, ate well and stayed healthy apart from his cardiac issue, he’d be OK. Well, maybe not OK, but safe and capable of going through the treatment which would hopefully cure his condition.
As Patrick cooked pancakes, his own lonely heart moved further along the road to full recovery. He’d loved eating breakfast with his parents in the large but cozy kitchen, and the sturdy wooden table was one of the pivotal places of the house and his memories. Having his own brand new family fill the empty space with chattering created a warm, contented glow in his guts, no matter that Patrick was unable to understand the words. Every time Peter came over to the stove to pick up another pancake, he’d touch him. A caress on his hair, a kiss on his ear, a hug around his shoulder or waist, and often accompanied by a quiet “I love you.” Or “Delicious, my darling.”
To Patrick, who’d seen his parents exchange similar unobtrusive signs of love, it confirmed that giving his heart to Peter had been the right choice. He was pleased that the Dane didn’t hesitate to be affectionate in front of his young son, but it added another bullet to the long list of subjects he had to discuss with his Valentine. Did Michael know that his father liked men – or rather Patrick in specific? If Peter had never had a serious relationship before, the matter probably hadn’t come up. How would Michael react to living in England permanently? And what would they do about school? Maybe a private tutor would be best, and…
This was the point where his internal angel began scolding. ‘Patrick, you need to stop getting ahead of yourself and agonizing about matters that are for your boyfriend to bring up.’ He frowned, but couldn’t deny that he had a tendency to worry about potential problems or concern himself over the future. ‘I know you’ve had no one to rely on for almost five years, but you’re in a relationship now. You can share the joys and burdens with your soul mate.’ The term had the slim card maker go all soppy inside, and in his vision the angel smirked. Suddenly a large body was in front of him and Patrick looked up, startled out of his musings.
At this point he’d finished cooking and was busy with the washing up. As usual Peter took care of the drying and Michael had disappeared to watch cartoons. Patrick realized he’d paused in his task and blushed when Peter asked: “What were you thinking of just now? You had the most delightful expression on your face, and you were looking at me as if I was a box of your favorite Valentine chocolates.” Patrick was mesmerized by the soft lips and next thing he knew he was molded to a warm body, fingers entwined in blond locks, and busy stealing kisses from his lover.
Peter gave as good as he got and both men forgot everything else as they indulged in mutual tongue play. Only to be interrupted by a giggle: “Er du kærester med Patrick nu, far?” He felt the worst blush ever begin, as they separated and turned to look at Michael. He was standing next to them, and Patrick was glad to see that the boy seemed unperturbed by sight of his dad kissing another man. He was holding an empty glass and had probably returned to get more juice. At least this gave Patrick an excuse to slip away and let Peter deal with whatever his son had said. He kept an eye on them as he went to the fridge and grabbed the juice.
“Ja, det er vi. Er du OK med at få Patrick som papfar?” He understood OK and Patrick, and it was clear Peter had confirmed their relationship. He picked up his son and hugged him, and they whispered together for a bit. Then they looked at Patrick and waved him over. He was pulled into the embrace of his family, and Michael held on to both of them, hugging them tight around their necks. Patrick sighed contentedly as he once more felt safe and loved and wanted. He sent up a small prayer of thanks to their patron saint together with a wish for happily ever after. ‘For all of us please…’
Translation of Danish phrases
“Er du kærester med Patrick nu, far?” = Are you and Patrick sweethearts now, dad?
“Ja, det er vi. Er du OK med at få Patrick som papfar?” = Yes, we are. Are you OK with getting Patrick as your stepdad? (Or literally ‘cardboard dad’ as pap means cardboard.)
The words papfar and papmor (and later bonusfar and bonusmor) replaced the original stepfather and stepmother, which had bad connotations.
[zilla_likes]