Chapter 145: Abby IV—Look at Me

 

            Abby was so close to Patrick he could smell him. He could feel the heat from his body and he could almost taste him on his mouth. Patrick had been sitting by himself on the plane, and David had taken the opportunity to take the seat next to him.

            “Hello Patrick,” he said brightly, noting the dull, calm look in his eyes.

            What an act! David had thought. He can pretend that I mean nothing at all to his memory banks. He can’t have forgotten that night. He can’t really have just touched me and pushed me away so easily.

            “Hello, David,” Patrick replied.

            David felt his gaze upon him, almost expecting him to say something. David looked at him and smiled. Patrick barely blinked. He does want me to talk. Doesn’t he?

            “Ooooh,” David sighed, keeping his voice quiet. “What a lovely shut out you had. And it wasn’t even a twelve save affair, it was a real shut out with real saves.”

            Begin with praise! David thought. He loves to pretend that he’s modest.

            “It was nice,” Patrick said in a simple, quick voice. “To tell you the truth I was a bit nervous there at the end. I felt that I was really going to lose it.”

            David placed his hand on Patrick’s forearm as it was resting on the arm of the chair. Patrick made no move to brush him off. He loves male touch! David concluded with a smugness inside his gut, he loves my warmth.

            “I was nervous for you too, darling,” David purred. “I almost thought to cover my eyes and then I thought that perhaps that would be an unflattering SportCenter clip, the back-up covering his eyes!”

            Patrick laughed quietly and when he looked at David it was with a twinkling, breath taking sincerity.

             “That would be amusing to see,” Patrick said. “Perhaps you should have done it!”

            How could you think that nothing happened? David thought with almost a flash of anger. Suddenly it is small pleasantries between us? Can you really hold that up?

            “Oh no!” David said laughing. “Just because any press is good press for you doesn’t mean that I follow the same sort of guidelines.”

            Patrick’s eyes remained sparkling pure but there was a crinkle to them as he frowned. “Is that what you think of me?”

            Ha! David thought. You’ll flush yourself out won’t you?

            “Is it that important to you what I think?” David whispered.

            He glanced around them and noted that everyone in the seats was either snoring or almost asleep.

            Patrick’s expression remained frozen on him for a moment longer, his eyes fading from the sparkle they had. “Of course I care what people think of me,” he said.

            “But me!” David said. “You really care what I think of you, don’t you?”

            Look at me! David thought furiously. Look at my face and mouth. You love my pale skin; you love my soft lips. Look at me and let it fester!

            David felt a small sense of triumph when he saw Patrick’s eyes move over his face, resting on his body.

            “You can still taste me, can’t you?” David whispered. “And don’t make a scene here it wouldn’t be seemly.”

            The sparks were there, the anger was there it all flashed through Patrick’s eyes but he didn’t say a thing.

            David squeezed Patrick’s arm.

            “Darling, I can’t stop thinking of you. How your hands felt on me, how your lips tasted. I know you couldn’t have just been pretending, you felt something too. And you still feel something!”

            “What makes you think any of that is true you whore?” Patrick hissed, boring David through with that glare. “What makes you think that you’re worth making a scene over?”

            “Admit it,” David whispered. “You were hoping that I would find you on this roadtrip, find you alone. That we could finish what we didn’t before.”

            “We have nothing to finish,” Patrick replied, looking away and then looking back at him with an almost sad expression. “I have too much on my plate.”

            With that, Patrick closed his eyes and leaned his head back.

            David looked at his profile and rubbed his forefinger in circular motions over Patrick’s arm. He wasn’t asleep, he was far from it. David could see the blush in Patrick’s cheeks and the slight rise in his breathing. So he rubbed him some more. He made sure it was delicate, and light, like tender flappings of butterfly wings. Patrick was doing nothing to move his hand away.

            And that was more than sufficient for David.

            You don’t have the strength to make an extended battle for your position, do you? David thought. You don’t have the strength to bat me away if I so choose to pursue. Too much on your plate? Would Patrick Roy have said that last year, the year before or the year before that? Have I found a chink in your armor darling?

            David slid his hand down Patrick’s forearm and pressed it over his bare hand. Look at me! He thought. You can’t have enough!

            And Patrick opened his eyes, and looked at him. There was a pleading irritation there and Patrick said in a low voice. “Don’t touch me.”

            David smiled and rested his hand into his lap.

            “I’m sorry darling,” he whispered. “You’re trying to sleep and here I am titillating you!”

            Patrick had no answer for him, no quip, no insult. There was just a quick flash of something and then a dying down as if a light bulb had burned out. The older man just closed his eyes again and leaned his head back on a pillow.

            You need your sleep, David thought. You need your strength. I can wait. I’m young, I’m bigger, I’m hungrier.

            He closed his eyes too but he wasn’t that sleepy at all. He just had his thoughts with him. Lips on his pained chest and mouth. David had always been curious about such things, he never knew how accepted it would be. Patrick was a secretive creature and he had shown David more than he would have liked of himself in that attempt to break him down.

            David knew that this could be a soft point in Patrick, the point he had always wondered if he possessed or not. St. Patrick had desires did he? And he desired him! How much could Patrick take from him and stay calm and focused?

            I could just be a whore, David thought to himself, amused. I’m curious and willing, but how much can he take? How much?

            When they were rocking in the turbulent Denver air David couldn’t take his eyes off Patrick. He seemed calm, he seemed as if he had forgotten his recent conversation with him. He was laughing and whooping about the wild ride with some of the other guys.

            When they were going down the tunnel, into the airport, to their loved ones who were waiting, David leaned near Patrick and whispered into his ear. “Maybe next time, Darling? Next road trip?”

            Patrick looked at him and scowled and his scowl turned to a brilliant smile. “Maybe I do have time for you.”

            “I hope so,” David replied. Look at me. You’re mine.