Patrick's Personal Card Ch. 03

So he removed his sweater and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, pausing now and then to sneak a look at Peter. His man's attention was completely riveted and Patrick had to bite his lip to avoid giggling. When he shed the shirt and strolled over to chuck it in the laundry basket, he allowed himself a smirk at the deep sigh from the bed. He kept his back to Peter while he removed his socks and belt and then he turned round and took a couple of steps towards the bed. Casually he scratched his neck with one hand and let it drift down over his smooth chest, grazing an erect nipple on the way, and continuing down to the button on his trousers.

The expression on Peter's face was well worth it. He did nothing to hide the desire and want, and he was completely enthralled. This was so much fun, and Patrick decided he would do anything to keep his Valentine gazing at him like that. Unbuttoning and unzipping had Peter licking his lips and swallowing, and Patrick pinched himself hard to avoid bursting into a laugh. He began pushing his trousers down, but suddenly turned his back as if shy. But of course this just meant that his ass was on display and in a pair of rather tight briefs too. A quick peek over his shoulder after he'd dropped his trousers and bent over to remove them showed Peter's gaze was fixed as expected.

Patrick didn't quite wriggle his butt as he walked back to the laundry basket, but he sure felt like doing a small victory dance. He looked down and adjusted his hard-on so that it was pointing towards his right hip and in no danger of escaping the confining briefs. Then he turned around and walked to his side of the bed as if he was oblivious to the fact that Peter was ogling his package and literally panting at the sight. Deciding to get one last tease in before getting under cover, Patrick paused at the edge of the bed. "Like what you see, darling?" It was the first time he'd used an endearment, and he almost recoiled at the heated look it earned him.

Peter's blue eyes held his and Patrick's dick lurched and shed a tear of joy at the unbridled lust which rolled in waves from the blond man. The answer to the question came not in words, but by Peter removing the duvet hiding his crotch. The unexpected flashing only lasted a few seconds, but long enough for Patrick's gaze to take in what he'd already suspected. Even though Peter's boxers reached his navel, they only barely contained his engorged manhood. Patrick quickly slid beneath his own duvet and Peter switched off the light. A whispered goodnight drifted across, both of them aware that a kiss was too dangerous.

Even though Patrick was tired, he couldn't relax enough to sleep. The vision kept intruding, and he fluctuated between aching desire and a touch of fear. He'd never seen any porn or picture that made him so eager to masturbate, and the frustration that he couldn't was driving him crazy. Outlined by the soft black boxers even the short flash had left no doubts that Peter's erect manhood was huge. Long. Thick. Not obscenely or impossibly so, but enough to make Patrick worry about the potential pain associated with penetration and having Peter take his virginity. Which he was still passionately determined to initiate as soon as possible.

But maybe he should buy a bigger dildo first. His dick launched another blob of precum in his briefs at the thought. Patrick might be inexperienced with actual sex, but for the past four years he'd owned a couple of sex toys. Once he'd acknowledged that casual sex was not going to happen, he'd bought a dildo to expand and improve his lonely self-gratification. No one was here to find out and judge him and at least he'd be better prepared, if he did meet Mr. Right. Except that the toy resembling his own dick in width and girth, while being a challenge for the first many sessions, was nowhere near what he faced now. Or soon. Hopefully.

Thus the need for something larger to practice with. Once this concept was firmly entrenched, the next one popped into his head. 'Maybe Peter would like to help.' The vision which replaced that of Peter lying in his bed with an impressive boner just from watching Patrick undress was even more compelling. Patrick naked on all fours with Peter behind him pushing a huge dildo into his ass, while both men jerked off. Oh yes, I want ... Patrick had barely indulged in the fantasy for two minutes before the inevitable happened. He only had scant moments to react, but managed to get his hand into his briefs in time.

He bit into his pillow to prevent his cries of ecstasy from escaping as his balls unloaded several blasts of cum into his palm. His whole body shuddered as the most intense orgasm he'd had for months swept through him. It was like having a wet dream while still conscious, but at least he wouldn't wake with soaked underwear. Luckily he was on his side with his back to Michael and Peter, and he carefully milked the last drops into his hand before bringing it to his mouth to dispose of the evidence.

Once he'd calmed down a bit, he turned over on his back to sneak a look at his bedfellows. The steady breathing and small snuffling noises of Michael had already reassured him that the boy was asleep. For a moment he thought Peter was too and that the incident would remain secret. But then his boyfriend lifted his head. "Patrick, did you just..." The sentence was left unfinished probably in case Michael woke up. But the incredulous tone left no doubt that he was busted once again.

"Ehm yes. I'm sorry. I ... eh ... I have a vivid imagination. It was an accident, I didn't mean to. It just sort of happened. I didn't even touch ... ehm you know." Which was the truth, but he'd flexed his hips just enough to create friction against his underwear and the fold of bedding against his groin. "Sorry. Anyway, it was your fault. If you hadn't removed the duvet..." Suddenly a large hand came over and stroked his hair, moving down to cup his cheek and the thumb slid onto his lips to silence him.

Love and awe shone in the fond words. "Oh Patrick, sweetheart. Don't fret or apologize. I'm proud that just having me in your bed will cause such a stunning response. I'm envious too. And I may have to take a quick trip to the bathroom. Do you need a towel or something?" At Patrick's whispered reply that he'd solved the problem 'manually and orally' Peter groaned and fled the room. In less than five minutes he was back and slipped under the covers again with a relieved sigh. This time their goodnights were soon followed by blissful sleep.

The next morning Patrick woke to the unfamiliar sounds of two voices whispering behind his back. In his sleepy state he tried to work out what was going on but apart from his name the words were mostly unintelligible. Weird - oh no wait, he had two Danes in his bed, one small and cute, and one big and hot. Very hot. Ehmm maybe he shouldn't think about that, or he'd have some serious morning wood to contend with. Patrick lifted his head to see what the time was, and grunted as a body impacted him from behind. "Good morning, Patrick. Breakfast, please?"

He was smiling even before he turned over and saw Michael's blue eyes and happy grin. The boy was clearly proud that he'd managed to communicate in English. Behind him Peter was wearing an even wider smile and Patrick's heart beat faster at the sight of his handsome boyfriend. 'Oh man that's just what I want to wake up to every morning. My Valentine smiling at me. Oh and maybe a kiss and a cuddle. Preferably naked and...' Patrick stopped that train of thoughts once more, knowing where they'd most likely lead. Instead he spoke to Michael: "Yes, breakfast. Pancakes?"

"Pandekager." The translation from Peter had Michael squeal with delight and jumping up and down. Right then he didn't look like a child with a heart condition, but Patrick knew from Peter's random remarks and his own observations that the slight boy tired easily. However, the real danger was infections and anything else that put an undue strain Michael's body. His heart wasn't up to dealing with extra work, but if he rested frequently, ate well and stayed healthy apart from his cardiac issue, he'd be OK. Well, maybe not OK, but safe and capable of going through the treatment which would hopefully cure his condition.

As Patrick cooked pancakes, his own lonely heart moved further along the road to full recovery. He'd loved eating breakfast with his parents in the large but cozy kitchen, and the sturdy wooden table was one of the pivotal places of the house and his memories. Having his own brand new family fill the empty space with chattering created a warm, contented glow in his guts, no matter that Patrick was unable to understand the words. Every time Peter came over to the stove to pick up another pancake, he'd touch him. A caress on his hair, a kiss on his ear, a hug around his shoulder or waist, and often accompanied by a quiet "I love you." Or "Delicious, my darling."

To Patrick, who'd seen his parents exchange similar unobtrusive signs of love, it confirmed that giving his heart to Peter had been the right choice. He was pleased that the Dane didn't hesitate to be affectionate in front of his young son, but it added another bullet to the long list of subjects he had to discuss with his Valentine. Did Michael know that his father liked men - or rather Patrick in specific? If Peter had never had a serious relationship before, the matter probably hadn't come up. How would Michael react to living in England permanently? And what would they do about school? Maybe a private tutor would be best, and...

This was the point where his internal angel began scolding. 'Patrick, you need to stop getting ahead of yourself and agonizing about matters that are for your boyfriend to bring up.' He frowned, but couldn't deny that he had a tendency to worry about potential problems or concern himself over the future. 'I know you've had no one to rely on for almost five years, but you're in a relationship now. You can share the joys and burdens with your soul mate.' The term had the slim card maker go all soppy inside, and in his vision the angel smirked. Suddenly a large body was in front of him and Patrick looked up, startled out of his musings.

At this point he'd finished cooking and was busy with the washing up. As usual Peter took care of the drying and Michael had disappeared to watch cartoons. Patrick realized he'd paused in his task and blushed when Peter asked: "What were you thinking of just now? You had the most delightful expression on your face, and you were looking at me as if I was a box of your favorite Valentine chocolates." Patrick was mesmerized by the soft lips and next thing he knew he was molded to a warm body, fingers entwined in blond locks, and busy stealing kisses from his lover.

Peter gave as good as he got and both men forgot everything else as they indulged in mutual tongue play. Only to be interrupted by a giggle: "Er du kærester med Patrick nu, far?" He felt the worst blush ever begin, as they separated and turned to look at Michael. He was standing next to them, and Patrick was glad to see that the boy seemed unperturbed by sight of his dad kissing another man. He was holding an empty glass and had probably returned to get more juice. At least this gave Patrick an excuse to slip away and let Peter deal with whatever his son had said. He kept an eye on them as he went to the fridge and grabbed the juice.

"Ja, det er vi. Er du OK med at få Patrick som papfar?" He understood OK and Patrick, and it was clear Peter had confirmed their relationship. He picked up his son and hugged him, and they whispered together for a bit. Then they looked at Patrick and waved him over. He was pulled into the embrace of his family, and Michael held on to both of them, hugging them tight around their necks. Patrick sighed contentedly as he once more felt safe and loved and wanted. He sent up a small prayer of thanks to their patron saint together with a wish for happily ever after. 'For all of us please...'

Translation of Danish phrases

"Er du kærester med Patrick nu, far?" = Are you and Patrick sweethearts now, dad?

"Ja, det er vi. Er du OK med at få Patrick som papfar?" = Yes, we are. Are you OK with getting Patrick as your stepdad? (Or literally 'cardboard dad' as pap means cardboard.)

The words papfar and papmor (and later bonusfar and bonusmor) replaced the original stepfather and stepmother, which had bad connotations.