Identity Check

Chapter 14

Patrick got three text messages from Simon the next day.

After all those months of checking the phone for messages from Simon, now the sight of them just annoyed him. He didn't reply. Every time the phone beeped that day he scowled at it. Though that scowl sometimes turned to a smile, if the message turned out to be from Phil instead. He was out and about doing some shopping and other chores right now, he said, but looking forward to their "date" later. Patrick chuckled at "date". Phil suggested a pub to meet up in and a time. Patrick replied with the suggestion of an earlier time and a restaurant instead. A man has to eat. Phil answered quickly.

Ur on! :)

It wasn't a fancy French restaurant of course, neither of them could afford that. Just a pizza parlour. They got a big pizza to share and a plate of garlic bread.

"Heard from Russ?" Patrick asked, pouring them both another glass of the house red.

"Spoke earlier today," Phil said, nodding. "Sounds like things are going a bit tricky. Seems it's come out to the rest of his family about him being gay. They aren't exactly throwing him a party about it."

"Is he okay?"

"He'll cope. He doesn't have to see most of those people very often, so I doubt he cares."

"I'm going to apologise to him about that stupid argument we had."

"Good. Russ is kind of prickly sometimes, I know, but he's a good guy."

"He's been a good friend. I mean, all of you have, your whole group. You especially of course."

Phil grinned and took a sip of his wine. "Hey, I'm just that great, what can I say?"

"I felt so lost when I first came here and you've all helped me out so much. I've come such a long way since then." Was he trying to convince himself of something? That he wasn't that naïve boy of a few months ago? That he could stand on his own two feet? That he didn't need Simon?

"You really have," Phil agreed. "Remember that first night you came out with us? You looked terrified! Until you got into the Circle of course. Then it was like you'd come home."

"Yes, terrified and then... home. That's exactly how I felt."

"And now here you are, king of the ring..." He raised his glass in a toast and winked. "I don't want to say queen of the scene, you'll take offence."

"I'd hardly call myself a king."

"Well, you're a prince at least. Especially in the Circle. They love you there."

"I love it there. The dancing, getting a job there, meeting Ray, meeting David!"

"Yeah." Phil picked up the dessert menu. "Are we going to get some dessert?"

After dessert they commenced a two man pub crawl around the Triangle, through the pleasure-seeking Easter weekend throng, laughing, flirting, until just before midnight they walked into the 7th Circle, hand in hand.

"Hi, Jeff, Craig," Patrick said to the doormen. He pointed at Phil. "He's with me." Jeff and Craig nodded them through without the usual search. Craig even held open the door with the Dante quote about abandoning hope emblazoned over it.

"Oh, it's good to be the king," Phil said, grinning, as they walked down the passageway towards the dance floor, swinging their locked hands like kids.

"Only a prince," Patrick reminded him.

"Give it time."

The dancing kept on distracting him from the thoughts about Simon that he'd been keeping at bay all evening. But they couldn't dance all night, and eventually flopped on a bench seat in the chill out room, with bottles of ice-cold water.

Phil chatted on, but Patrick's mind began to wander. What was David doing right now? Sitting alone in his hotel room? Or out networking, supping a few pints with the guys from Boring Bastards Inc? Patrick resented those unknown people immediately for keeping David from spending the weekend with him. And he had to admit to jealousy too and not just of the time they were spending drinking with him. What if any of them were gay? What if they tried to pick David up? And who the hell wouldn't?

Would David resist no-strings sex that Patrick would never find out about? Was he that good a man?

Was Patrick? He'd resisted Simon last night, but now he pictured another hotel room. Simon on the bed, in bed maybe, naked of course, he was hardly a pyjamas type of guy.

What if... for one night? For old time's sake.

David would never have to know.

"Hey, you still awake?" Phil said, elbowing him. Patrick blinked, coming back to the here and now. Damn, can't be thinking that way. It's wrong. He made a promise.

"Sorry. Phil, can you wait here for me? I'm just going to go and see if Ray is in. I want to ask him something, ah, about work."

"Oh, okay. I'll wait here. Unless some gorgeous Adonis whisks me off to his yacht."

Not many people backstage tonight. The dancers mostly worked during the week except for special theme nights. A few barman and doormen were the only ones around.

Patrick had seen Ray earlier behind the bar, so he was surprised to find the door to the office closed. Maybe Ray wasn't in there and had locked the office? But he thought he could hear voices beyond the door, so he knocked. The voices stopped.

A moment later the door opened only a short distance, and Ray stood there, looking irritated. Movement behind him caught Patrick's eye and he saw a quick glimpse of someone's blond hair.

"Patrick? Did you want something?"

"Um... I just wanted to talk." He'd been going to ask Ray for advice about resisting the temptation to cheat. But... Patrick frowned... whoever was in there wasn't Tom - who had long brown hair, not blond - and whatever they were doing it had made Ray close his door.

"I'm sorry, I'm busy just now." Ray glanced back into the room. "Come along later if you like, in an hour or something?"

"Take that long, eh?" Patrick regretted his tone at once, but Ray seemed too distracted to notice. "Forget it." He turned and marched off. Ray didn't call after him; he just closed the door.

Maybe Russ was right after all, cynical bastard that he was. Men weren't built to be faithful to one person. Ray - Mr Exclusive, Mr Civil Partnership, Mr Married - was probably having his cock sucked by one of the barmen on a break right this minute. And maybe David was in a hotel room bed fucking some junior manager from Boring Bastards Inc.

Why the fuck should Patrick be any different?

He found Phil where he'd left him and didn't sit down. Phil stood up too.

"Dance again?" Phil asked.

"No, I want to get out of here," Patrick said. "I'm ready for bed."

Phil grinned and winked. "Well, if you insist."

Patrick shoved his arm, laughing, his tension released. He'd made his choice. They left the club, hanging on to each other's hands as they weaved through the crowds, only letting go once they left the Triangle district. They walked to the nearest taxi rank and joined the queue - not too long yet, the night clubs were still open.

"You want to share a cab?" Phil asked as they reached the front of the queue.

"No, thanks. Here you go," Patrick said as a car pulled up at the rank. "You take the first one."

"But..." Phil glanced around, then grimaced. "Okay, see you tomorrow. Call me in the morning."

"Will do." Patrick closed the door on him and the taxi pulled away. As soon as it turned a corner Patrick walked away from the taxi rank.

He headed for the Quayside. Not the fancy hotel where he'd had dinner with David, but rather the budget chain that Simon had given him the card for, his room number written on in pencil.

He had a moment of dread when he reached the hotel room door. What if Simon wasn't alone? Patrick had put him off pretty strongly last night, maybe he'd actually taken no for an answer? But there were those messages during the day, all asking Patrick to call or come around. He surely wouldn't do that and then pick up someone else, would he? Oh who was he kidding? This was Simon.

And if he wasn't alone?

Then Patrick would just go and jump in the fucking river, because he'd never live that one down.

He shook himself from the thoughts, hating the effect Simon had on him. Making him crazy. He stood for a moment, listening. No sounds of rampant carnality appeared to be coming from the other side of the door, so he knocked. Simon threw the door wide open. He stood there in only a pair of boxer shorts, a huge grin on his face.

"I knew you'd come."

"Good thing it was me if that's how you answer the door." Patrick went inside quickly, feeling conspicuous in the corridor. Simon just barely moved out of the way, forcing Patrick to brush against his bare chest.

"Peep-hole," Simon said, as he closed the door and sprawled out on the bed.

"In that case it's a good thing I didn't bring any friends with me."

"Explain to me why that's a good thing." Simon waggled his eyebrows and patted the bed. "There's plenty of room for a party."

Patrick snorted and looked around the room. Maybe there was someone hiding in the bathroom? He glanced in, but there was no sign.

"Want to check under the bed too?" Simon said, sounding amused. "Maybe the wardrobe?"

Patrick scowled at him, shook himself from the speculation. Simon was alone and actually that bothered him now, had bothered him since Simon said, "I knew you'd come." So damn full of himself. So sure he could predict what Patrick would do and so sure Patrick couldn't resist him. Arrogant bastard.

And right. Which was the most annoying part.

Still he hadn't done anything yet, hadn't made any obvious sexual move. Besides sprawling out in nothing but his pants, but that was probably just exhibitionism. Perhaps he was waiting for Patrick to make his intentions clear first. Out of consideration, or just not wanting to scare him off?

Patrick wasn't scared. He'd made his choice.

He sent a signal. Slid his denim jacket off, letting it slip down his arms and catching it with one hand before it hit the floor. He swept it around to drape it on a chair, turning his back to Simon as he did it.

Simon made a low growling sound in his throat and Patrick smiled. But still, he made Simon wait and began to wander around the room, glancing at the papers spread on the dresser. Drawings. Some of them sketches for planned paintings perhaps. Others, random doodles, pictures of items around this room, what might be the view from the window, hidden by the curtains now. God, he'd missed Simon's drawings. He missed seeing his own face in them.

Further along the dresser more of Simon's possessions lay scattered about. Pens and pencils of course, always. His phone, his watch. Patrick picked up the phone and slid it open to hear the familiar soft chime. The default one of course. Simon would have no clue how to change that.

He glanced into the mirror. Simon was watching him, wearing a look both curious and hungry. Patrick slid the phone closed slowly and put it down. Their eyes met in the mirror and Patrick smiled. Eye contact. A smile. That's all they needed, men like them. No words. Just looks and the invitation was given and received.

Simon took him up on it right away. He slid off the bed, walked up behind Patrick and pulled aside the hair that draped over his right shoulder. Stroking it out of the way, he began kissing Patrick's neck. His arms slid around Patrick's waist making him tense up and quiver.

"You aren't going to push me away this time, are you?" Simon whispered. "Because if you are you'd better do it now."

"You talk too much. Your mouth has better things to do, remember?" He turned into Simon's arms and put that mouth to one of those better uses. The kiss left them both panting.

"You'd better start getting your clothes off," Simon said, "because I've got a hell of a head start on you."

"Oh, I dunno, I kind of like it like this, having you all bare." Patrick pushed him back suddenly. Not away, went with him, until they reached the bed. Simon fell back on it, and Patrick pounced and pulled off the boxer shorts, leaving him stark naked.

"Shit, you could run a flag up that thing," Patrick said, looking from Simon's erection to his grinning face. That wicked grin he'd missed so much.

"Well if you didn't bring one along, there's something else in that drawer you can use," Simon said, waving at the bedside table. Patrick found condoms and lube in there and tossed them on the bed. Simon grabbed at a condom pack.

Patrick climbed on the bed. Typical hotel room bed, high and firm. They'd have to be careful not to bounce right off it! He knelt up over Simon, still fully dressed, though he left his shoes behind him on the floor. It felt oddly powerful to be still in his clothes, still feeling in control, while Simon of all people lay there, naked and needy. So different from before, when Patrick had been so compliant and desperate for Simon.

This should feel wrong, for so many reasons. But tonight, he felt cynical and cold. He wanted this and he would have it, because everyone else just took what they wanted. Why not him?

Simon looked a little distracted, perhaps surprised by Patrick's new confidence, expecting him to still be quivering and clinging. Not any more. Simon taught him a lot, but he'd learnt plenty more since. He ran his hands down Simon's chest, fingers trailing over the hard nipples, making Simon writhe and moan softly.

"Oh, God, Pat, stop fucking teasing me and do it."

Patrick smiled at the begging. Oh yes. Tonight, he was in control.