Truly Madly Deeply

Five

The morning after.
"What?" Patrick asked, his forehead creased, a telltale sign he's intrigued. He bent down to pick to the towel from the armrest of the chair on which it was hung.
"Nothing," said Kevin, grinning, as though he were privy to some secret. Lying on the bed with his head nestled on his palms, with only the blanket to keep him decent, he watched Patrick wrap the white towel around his waist.
The thing is, Kevin had always fancied undressing Patrick, but watching Patrick put the towel on to cover himself, well, Kevin found it more titillating, and hell a lot sexier.
At once Kevin felt a wicked pleasure stir between his legs, watching Patrick stride past the bed towards the lofty French windows, white towel dangling around his neck, his arms stretching to part the drapes, the undulating lace curtains, the flushed skin of his naked back dotted here and there with little moles which Kevin enjoyed tracing with his finger like constellations, and the white towel, well, Kevin couldn't really take his eyes away from that damned towel, which was wrapped rather precariously low around Patrick's waist, the cloth assuming the very shape of Patrick's bubble butt, which was a beautiful contrast to his muscular thighs, and that cock, fuck yeah, teasingly concealed beneath that white cloth, which seemed to taunt Kevin's wild imagination. Like one of those bachelors in the centerfold of Cosmopolitan magazine.
Blow by blow, Kevin recalled their steamy lovemaking the night before. How he marveled at Patrick looming above him, all the weight of his body pressed deliciously over Kevin, as Kevin's hands went exploring those broad shoulders, the slope of Patrick's back, and so close were they Kevin could see his own reflection in Patrick's deep blue eyes, and those soft, glistening lips that Kevin found so . . . enticing, which had Kevin pleading, or rather demanding Patrick to kiss him, and Patrick knowing how Kevin wanted to be kissed, was more than willing to oblige. Patrick had pelted Kevin's neck with soft, teasing kisses, just enough but not so, which drove Kevin halfway towards ecstasy, so close yet so far from the promise of release. Then Patrick proceeded to ravage Kevin, the soft kisses becoming more urgent, more demanding, his teeth grazing Kevin's skin, tugging at Kevin's earlobe, his pink nipples, marking Kevin's smooth skin as Patrick's lips caressed the entire length of Kevin's body, and it seemed Patrick was bent to violate Kevin, so much like the act of crushing the petals of a delicate flower; and the more Kevin felt possessed, the more he felt being conquered by Patrick, the more Kevin felt, let alone knew, that Patrick belonged to him, and he to Patrick. To be claimed by Patrick, finally, well, it was the sweetest feeling of complete surrender.
"Do it, Patrick," Kevin had said, arching his back, as he grasped the back of Patrick's neck. The tension was such Kevin felt he'd been stretched taut like a bow, and any moment, he had to shoot the arrow, lest he snap. "Please, do it."
"But . . ." said Patrick, hesitating.
They needed no words, really. Their desires speaking for themselves, a decision was made. It felt dangerous, unprotected sex, but they both know they were negative, health wise, and there was absolutely nothing to hinder them from truly experiencing each other's body, which, at the mere thought of it, had Kevin and Patrick reeling.
"I really want to do it," said Kevin, unable to recognize his own voice, which sounded deep and hoarse from desire that ran rampant throughout his veins.
So they did.
Kevin drew Patrick nearer, and positioning Patrick where he wanted him, so Patrick was straddling Kevin's torso, Kevin began stroking Patrick's cock with his right hand, as his left hand cupped Patrick's balls, so that Patrick's release literally depended in Kevin's hands.
"Do you like that?" said Kevin, firmly grasping Patrick's cock, watching the bead of moisture coming out. He ran the pad of his thumb against the gland which made Patrick shiver. 
"Yes," Patrick moaned, arching his back, as he thrust his hips forward to give Kevin more access. Putting his middle finger inside his mouth, then inside Kevin's, who bit it playfully, he drew that finger away and the same finger entered Kevin, tapping that sweet spot that catapulted Kevin towards cloud nine.
"Ooh fuck!" Kevin moaned, as Patrick coaxed the orifice to open further.
"Do you like that?" it was Patrick's turn to ask, slipping another finger inside Kevin, which startled him.
And chuckling at his own astonishment, Kevin answered, "Fuck yeah!"
Patrick drew both their bodies closer.
"I'm so ready for you, Patrick," said Kevin.
"So am I," Patrick answered. His breath felt warm and sweet against Kevin's skin.
Finally, after two solid days of being a thousand miles apart, after two solid days of fearing he'd never see Patrick ever again, Kevin felt all the tumult that had build up inside him simmering. Love and desire, what a powerful combination indeed. Kevin had always been gentle with Patrick whenever he topped, but the roles being reversed this time, Kevin urged Patrick to be rough, to be relentless, to do the exact opposite of how Kevin did it, now that Kevin was on the receiving end.
"But I might hurt you," said Patrick, hesitation on his face.
"It's okay," Kevin said, in between kisses, his hands clasping Patrick's face. "It's okay."
So Patrick reared back, and grasping his hard cock, he entered Kevin.
Slowly, determinedly.
Kevin hissed, lips drawn back from his teeth, nostrils flared. "Oh . . . God!"
"You alright?" Patrick asked, concerned and at the same time reveling at Kevin's tightness.
"Yeah," said Kevin, his hands holding Patrick's arms, and his legs wrapped around Patrick's waist, as if to hold Patrick in place, "Just do it."
Patrick thrust forward. "Again?"
"Yeah," said Kevin, taking a deep breath.
Patrick thrust again. But this time it was deeper. Down to the hilt.
"You like that?" asked Patrick, cupping Kevin's face in his hands.
"Yes," said Kevin, kissing Patrick. And it felt so amazing. Like it was . . . the first time.
They held fast, bodies pressed together, limbs entangled; he, Patrick, giving all that he could give, until there was nothing more to give; and he, Kevin, taking all that he could take, until there was nothing more to be taken. Patrick went on, sweat dripping from his forehead, thrusting harder and deeper, his hand stroking Kevin's cock, as if mirroring the feel of Kevin wrapped tightly around his own. And Kevin felt himself careening towards the edge, and it felt so . . . sublime, to be filled and emptied by Patrick at the same time.
They were both close.
Patrick drew closer towards Kevin. He kissed Kevin, whose moans were muffled as they all went inside Patrick's mouth that was clamped against his. And then Patrick's assault halted, and so did the hand that stroked Kevin, as he emptied himself inside Kevin, whose heart stood still as he reached his own climax.
And when Kevin came, he died.
Or so it seemed.
"What is it?" asked Patrick, which brought Kevin back to the present.
"Nothing," said Kevin, grinning.
But noticing the sheet that had assumed the shape of a tent between Kevin's thighs, Patrick had known at once the cute ideas running inside Kevin's mind. "I know what you're thinking, and I know you're up to no good, Kevin," said Patrick, shaking his head and at the same time chuckling.
"Well, I happen to have the hottest guy in the fucking world for a boyfriend, so I couldn't really help getting turned on at the sight of him."
"Pervert," said Patrick, grinning.
Patrick tossed the towel towards Kevin's face, who caught it midair, and proceeded to feel the soft cloth with his cheeks. "Ah, feels soft. And smells good, too," said Kevin, in jest.
"Pig," said Patrick, shaking his head, and failing to stifle his laughter.
An hour later.
"Oh my God, Kevin," said Patrick, sitting beside Kevin, listening to him play the piano. "I didn't know you could play."
"Well, it comes with the entire package," said Kevin cockily, as he leafed through the music sheet.
"Shut up," said Patrick, rolling his eyes. But still unable to hide his fascination, Patrick said, "But seriously. You're really good, Kevin."
"Why thank you, Patrick," said Kevin, "Finally, you're showing some true appreciation of my other endowments."
"Shut up, just keep playing," urged Patrick, annoyed and excited at the same time.
Then Kevin reached for the music sheet and closed it.
"What are you doing?" asked Patrick.
"Well, actually, I really wanted to play this next song. It's a song from a musical I've seen several months ago in New York. Have you seen A New Brain?" Kevin asked.
"Yeah I did," Patrick answered. "The songs were great."
"Yes, they were. Don't get mad, but I had to confess something to you."
Patrick gave Kevin a puzzled look, and then he said, "Well, it better be good."
Kevin chuckled, and went on, "Well, I really had a thing for the lead actor."
"Oh my God!" said Patrick, chuckling.
"Why, I really think he's cute. And positively hot, Jonathan Groff," said Kevin. "Don't you think?"
"Well, he's not so bad," Patrick agreed, but rather begrudgingly, to which Kevin laughed. "I know some of the songs. But what I really liked was I'd Rather Be Sailing."
Kevin's eyes lighting up, he said, "Oh my God, so do I."
"Oh my God! Now you gotta do it. Please, please, play it for me, Kevin," said Patrick, like a kid asking for treats.
"Okay, okay!" said Kevin, "Just calm down, Patrick." Kevin stretched his arms, and proceeded to pop his fingers, and fumbled for the keys. "Okay, here it goes."
Kevin pressed the keys, playing the tinny notes of the intro.
"I'd rather be sailing, yes I would
. . . on an open sea . . ."
Wow. Almost going off key, Kevin was startled when Patrick sang the lines. And by God, did Patrick sound so beautiful. His voice was so melodic, buttery, and so much like the voice of those young theater actors who played the lead in a broadway musical.
"I'd stand at the railing, if I could . . .
. . . feeling wild and free . . ."
While playing, Kevin listened intently, and it felt like Patrick, in some inexplicable way, was singing to him and him alone.
Soon enough, Kevin was pummeling the keys, feet striking the pedals just as brutally, as the music soared into a crescendo, and so did Patrick, his voice rising higher, as if he were entreating Kevin to listen.
"The sun is on my neck, the wind is in my face . . .
. . . the sea is incredibly blue . . ."
Kevin felt and saw it, what the lyrics of the song was describing, the words that Patrick was singing, as he found himself looking into Patrick's eyes. Yes, Kevin knew it. Patrick, no matter where the tide casts him, no matter where the wind leads his sail, he'd always find his way back to Kevin. And Kevin knew it. Believed it. The song itself was Patrick's vow, his promise.
"I'd rather be sailing, yes I'd wanna go sail . . .
and then come home to . . . you . . ."
Kevin played the rest of the notes, and the last of them lingering in the air, the silence that followed made the hairs on his skin rise. "Wow. That was really beautiful, Patrick." There were tears on his eyes.
"Oh Kevin," said Patrick, as he reached Kevin and embraced him.
"I'm sorry," said Kevin, sniffling. "It's just that I don't know so much about you, and I really really want to know more. So thank you . . ." Kevin wasn't able to finish his sentence.
"No, Kevin," said Patrick, "Thank you. For sticking out with me. For bearing with me. For coming over and for everything."
Kevin kissed Patrick's forehead. "I love you."
"I love you, too," Patrick answered.
Kevin loved seeing Patrick smile, so he was dismayed to glimpse the fleeting shadow that crossed Patrick's face. And he knew what was the cause of it.
"Don't worry, Patrick," said Kevin, "It's going to be okay."
"I don't know," said Patrick, "My dad's coming back tomorrow. And my mom has chosen to tell him once and for all that she's leaving him."
"Relax," said Kevin, "It's gonna be fine."
"It's not only that," said Patrick, "You know, I was actually planning to confront him. Well, it was no secret that I'm his biggest disappointment. But I don't want to live my life anymore, struggling to meet his expectations."
"Perhaps so," said Kevin, running his hand on Patrick's neck, then finally resting it on Patrick's shoulder, Kevin went on, "But I think you didn't only meet his expectations. I think you've exceeded them. You're a wonderful person, Patrick. I just wish you could see that."
"Really?" said Patrick, smiling.
"Yes," said Kevin, and feeling protective of Patrick, he went on, "And damn them who say otherwise."