Ten

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Patrick woke up alone.

Holy smokes. Was last night a dream? He twisted in the bed, burying his face into the pillow. It smelled so strongly like Pete that he sighed. Pete was definitely here. The question was how long did he stay?

Patrick slid out and bed and stood up. He walked over to the mirror to see how horrible he looked.

His hair was sticking up in weird places. There were very visible bags under his eyes. And his clothes were wrinkled beyond repair. He needed to bathe and he needed to change.

He lifted the T-shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor. He'd pick it up later. And he yanked the hideous pants down to his ankles. Stepping out of them one foot at a time. Leaving him in the white briefs given to him by the hospital.

He stared at himself in the mirror. He'd lost some weight. Maybe being in a coma does that to you. He twisted him body to the left to glance at his ass. That was about the same. He twisted his body to the right just to get a better angle. Still good.

Now he just needed to wash his hair and shower. Then maybe he'd feel like his normal self. He stepped onto the cold tiled floor and the bathroom. Dropping his briefs on the way to the shower.

He didn't shower for as long as he usually did. The hot water was making him feel slightly lightheaded. Maybe that was just another side effect that came with being comatose.

He stepped out of the shower. Grabbing a towel to wrap around his waist on the way into the room. It wasn't until he was about to open the drawers, did he remember that this wasn't his old room. He didn't have any clothes to wear.

Well that was great. Just fucking great.

His stomach growled vengefully. He remembered that he didn't eat anything yesterday. Meagan's food was gross. And he'd ordered a hotdog yesterday but he was so pissed after seeing the magazine that he stormed off without it. He needed to get some food in him. Now.

He opened his room door just as a maid was passing by it. She stopped when she saw him. Disbelief clouding her features. Patrick just smiled back. Usually, he would have spoken to her, but he didn't remember exactly who she was. And he didn't want to come off as rude.

He crept down the stairs. Listening out for any signs of Meagan or Pete but he didn't hear anything. Maybe they'd gone somewhere for breakfast.

That thought vanished when he entered the kitchen. Pete was sitting at the table behind his laptop. One hand holding onto what Patrick assumed was his coffee cup. The other hand typing away on his laptop.

Patrick stepped into the kitchen. Louder than necessary. Pete glanced up quickly from his screen. He paused and closed his eyes. Muttering something under his breath. And then he opened his eyes again. Before, very slowly, looking back up at Patrick.

His adam's apple bobbed nervously.

"Patrick, why are you naked?"

"I don't have any clothes." He pouted.

"So you decided to just walk around in a towel?"

"Would you rather I walk around naked?"

Pete didn't answer. Because, hell yeah, he would rather Patrick walk around naked. But maybe it would make him less of a bad person if he didn't admit it out loud.

He felt lousy enough for sleeping in bed with Patrick all night instead of Meagan. He just hadn't gotten a good night's sleep in forever. And he remembered how good he always slept when he was with Patrick.

"I'll take you shopping for clothes today. For now, you can wear my clothes."

"I don't want to wear a suit."

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