FicWad

The room was everything you would expect from a posh hotel. Everything was tidy; there was a cream carpet, with cream bedding and cream walls. Colour was injected wherever possible; there were red cushions, decorative curtains as well as flowers of all kinds dotted about the suite to add a light floral scent as well as a colour boost. There were roses, large daises, pink lilies; it looked like the inside of a florist. They had a large four poster bed to share between them but there was enough room for another two grown men but both men lay huddled together in the middle of the bed, not making any use of the space and grandeur they’d been given.

Patrick lay awake and had been so since the early hours of the morning. He’d been woken by the sound of a car backfiring and quickly pulling away. Patrick’s imagination told him it had to be a high speed car chase after a bank robbery, or maybe a drama of some kind. But the reality was that someone was late for work and had a faulty car.

Patrick had always been a light sleeper and a car backfiring was one of the things that would wake him easily. He’d been woken in the dead and dark of night and had been able to watch as the sky made its ritualistic transition from dark to light. He’d felt luck the he’d been awake to watch the sun rise and cast a red glow across the mountain and into the hotel window but now he was hoping for a small amount of sleep that he wasn’t going to get.

Pete lay next to him, fast asleep as usual. Patrick was slightly jealous that he could manage to sleep through anything. The simple sound of a car backfiring wouldn’t have been enough to wake him up. An atom bomb, may, with a bit of luck and exceptional timing, wake him, Patrick thought.

He couldn’t help but watch Pete sleep. He lay on his back, looking graceful and serene as his chest rose and fell gently with every peaceful breath. The breathing and gentle snoring of the man next to him seemed to allow Patrick to enter a state of relaxation. Laying there, waiting for Pete to wake up might not be so bad, he thought.

Patrick had tried countless times to drop back off to sleep but his attempts were pointless. He’d always been a little bit of an insomniac and could manage to survive on less than three hours a night, it wasn’t a problem. He didn’t mind the lack of sleep, he just put it down to one of those nights, he simply turned over and allowed himself the luxury of watching Pete sleep.

Patrick couldn’t help but wonder what was going on in Pete’s mind. What was he dreaming about? He didn’t seem to be having a bad dream; he’d have been wriggling and writhing if it was. Was he dreaming of Patrick? Probably, because his face had twisted into his dirty grin. So he was thinking of Patrick …

Patrick’s theory was fully confirmed as Pete mumbled his named quietly under his breath. Patrick smiled inwardly. He knew that smile all too well, that smile had led to many, many good evenings in…

The placid sounds that floated around him made Patrick feel sleepy again. The birds twittered and chirped outside, their dawn chorus was in full swing, Pete’s snoring had become a little heavier and cars passed outside the hotel window as people started commuting to work.

The alarm clock was due to go off, Patrick knew that if he went back to sleep he would dream about something pleasant, sweet or sexy only to be interrupted by the ringing clock. He hated it when that happened, always at the best part in the dream. Besides, he’d prefer to stay awake and imagine some of those nice things. At least he could control what happened in days dreams. His night-time dreams had recently become weird.

The alarm rang out through the hotel room causing Pete to stir and Patrick to lunge over Pete to stop the irritating buzzing. It had always annoyed Patrick, the sound of an alarm clock; it constantly reminded him that he hadn’t had much sleep that night.

“Morning” Pete yawned. “Sleep well?”

“Great” Patrick heaved. Just great, he thought to himself. He looked over at Pete and smiled, he knew that it would take him at least half an hour to re-group from the trauma of waking up. He was always disorientated in the mornings, one of the reasons Patrick found him adorably cute.

“So how’s Patrick this morning?” Pete leaned in to kiss Patrick. The first kiss in the morning was always the best of the day; it was a little messy but not too rushed because of Pete’s slowness. Pete pulled away and bored into Patrick’s eyes, then smiled. “Love you”

“Love you more” Patrick, smiled into their second kiss of the day.