Page 27 of Will & Patrick's Endless Honeymoon
Patrick shrugs.
Will unbuckles and launches a full assault on Patrick, tickling him, uselessly—since he’s not ticklish—and laughing. “Tell me. Tell me now.”
Patrick grips his hands and kisses him quiet.
The pilot interrupts what is undoubtedly leading to their induction into the Mile High Club by saying, “Mr. Patterson, Dr. McCloud, I hope you’re comfortable in the back. We’ll land to refuel at LAX, and then head directly to Kona International on the Big Island of Hawaii. If you need us, just give us a shout through the intercom buttons.”
Patrick sighs as Will whoops. There goes that surprise.
“Hawaii?” Will wriggles down to his knees and insinuates himself between Patrick’s. “I’ve never been.”
“I know.”
“I’ve always wanted to go!” Will’s grin makes all the effort he’s put in worthwhile.
“I know.”
“Aw, you love me.”
Patrick squirms in his chair, somehow embarrassed even though he’s wearing the wedding ring that proves his ridiculously gross love for and utter devotion to Will. “Of course I love you,” he gripes. “You’re all—” he waves at Will’s face. “Like that.”
Will grins like the sun. “I love you too. What’s the plan? Where are we staying?”
“The Big Island for six days and then Kauai for four.”
“That’s amazing!”
Patrick taps at his left leg and frowns out the window, worry that Will might end up disappointed after all welling up. “I did a lot of research. It’ll be romantic. Jenny double-checked me and said you’ll like it.”
Will laughs. “Dr. McCloud, I do believe you deserve a midflight blow job.”
Patrick’s dick agrees, and he shifts in his seat. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Oh, I’m happy,” Will says, working open Patrick’s belt buckle and shifting open his shorts. “And I’m going to show you just how happy.”
Hours later, Willwatches Patrick sleep. He’s adorable with his head tilted at an awkward angle, his mouth hanging open, and drool sliding from the corner of his lips. Will huffs a laugh. He’s still got it pretty bad if a drooling, awkward, rumpled Patrick counts as adorable. And yet his heart feels like it’s made of Play-Doh—squishable and soft—as he studies Patrick’s sleeping face.
He leans back in his seat and turns toward the window. They’ve been flying through an endless swath of blue above and blue below ever since they left the coast of California. He wishes he could sleep, but his mind keeps racing.
Thoughts of the ten days ahead, wondering where they’ll be staying, and excitement at the fact that Patrick’s phone is turned off—off!—and will stay that way for their entire trip are all tempered by the return of the usual clinging, tugging guilt.
He remembers when he and Ryan first started dating, how they’d planned to go to Hawaii together one day. Even though he hasn’t kept up with Ryan at all since their acrimonious and nasty breakup, he knows Ryan never got a chance to go.
And he also knows that’s not his fault. More than that, he knows he wouldn’t change anything; he wouldn’t go back and be with Ryan for anything in the world.
But his chest still hurts to think of the man he’d once loved—sick love or not—fading away in a hospital bed. To know that the heart he’d listened to on the rare occasions Ryan let him snuggle in close will soon stop beating forever.
A cluster of clouds breaks up the endless blue, and Will studies their shapes, trying to make sense of his feelings.
Patrick deals with death all the time, and Will’s not sure how he does it. Because every time Will faces it, he’s thrown for a loop. How does someone go from being alive to being dead? It’s inconceivable and yet it’s the only thing anyone can count on. It’s a fact of life.
“Why are you radiating bad juju?” Patrick asks.
Will whips around to find Patrick wiping away his drool. “That’s a racist term disrespecting the beliefs of indigenous West African spirituality.”
Patrick shrugs. “That doesn’t answer why you’re radiating it.”
Will can’t stop the smile. “I’m just thinking.”
