Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

There was a golden-haired mutt trudging down the road. David Rose squinted his eyes against the Vegas night lit up like the fourth of July with the effervescent lights of a dozen signs advertising all types of debauchery. David had spent the last couple of days in Vegas hoping to escape the cloying boredom and restlessness that had plagued him for the last few months. Nothing excited him anymore: not his career, money, fans, friends, family, or the endless stream of empty relationships (with both men and women). He was a 35-year-old man experiencing a mid-life crisis.

He gripped the steering wheel tighter and slowed as he got closer to the mutt. Even in the harsh light reflected from the various club signs, David could see that he had been well off about the hair. The wild, curling mass was a plethora of different colors ranging from brown to blond, to chestnut altering depending on the slash of light the mutt walked into. David felt a spike of interest and continued to trail the bedraggled thing. Luckily it was a few hours shy of midnight or else the streets would have been a lot busier.

David ran his eyes from the top of the mutt’s head to his large and dirty body. There was almost certainly a story here, and as the mutt continued walking as if he hadn’t spotted David’s ridiculously expensive lexus, David found himself wondering what that story was. What the hell, he wasn’t doing anything else. David lowered the car window and stuck an elbow on the door.

“Lose your owner little guy?”

The mutt’s face (cute face) scrunched up in irritation and he sped up his pace to get away from David. David felt a tinge of amusement and pressed softly on the accelerator until he was keeping pace with the mutt again.

“Come on, I only want to help. I like to think of myself as an unofficial member of PETA. I hate seeing animals in distress.”

“Get lost.” The mutt bit out.

David gasped in mocked horror. “He speaks! You must be one of those special dogs I’ve been told only lives in Vegas and shows his face for only the most special of boys.”

That seemed to have done it, as the mutt stopped dead in his tracks and turned to glare at David, his golden eyes throwing out furious darts of unqualified irritation.

“Listen pal, I’ve had a really bad day- “

“No kidding.”

“- and the last thing I need is some wisecracking asshole in a ridiculous looking car in the middle of Vegas.”

David grinned and put the car in park. “Sounds like a hell of a good start to an incredible evening to me.”

The guy’s pale face went beet red as he attempted to cross his arms over his chest- which was difficult to do with the furry dog suit currently masking his small frame.

“What do you want, anyway? Are you really so hard-pressed for entertainment that you need to bother a stranger who just wants to be left alone?”

David barely registered the jab that hit way too close to the truth. Did he have a sign on his forehead that broadcast how bored he was with his life? He shook it off.

“Did all your furry friends run to escape your winning personality or- God- was the roadkill I saw back there your girlfriend or something? Geez, I’m sorry buddy.”

The cute mutt tilted his head and regarded David with what was close to pity in those luminescent gold eyes.

“At least I have friends. You have no life, is that it? That’s why you stalk empty streets hoping to find a little excitement to keep you from dying from hopelessness.”

David chuckled, a large grin making the dimple in his right cheek wink charmingly. He saw the mutt blink and felt a stirring of interest. Well well…

“You caught me. I’m hopelessly bad at keeping friends. Must be nice being a dog, never having to try too hard for adoration.”

“Will you stop? I’m sure you think you’re funny but to me you simply sound ridiculous.”

“My my aren’t we holier than thou…See and I was so close to offering you a ride.”

A slight breeze drifted, and the cute mutt shivered in his dog suit. David arched a slashing dark brow at him.

“I’d rather ride in the back of a farm truck full of pigs.” And off he stormed.

David shook his head and eased his car in motion again. “I didn’t want to mention this but… do you know who I am?”

The mutt snorted. “A bored, lonely old man on a Las Vegas Road.”

Old! David choked so hard he nearly let the mutt get away. Mid-life crisis or not, no one called him old and got away with it.

“You’re awfully ornery for a mutt walking on a deserted road, I guess you haven’t taken a real good look at your circumstances...”

David let his words drift off, hoping that the veiled implications would be enough to get the mutt’s attention. The mutt didn’t respond immediately, but there was a subtle tightening around his mouth.

David tried not to let his triumph show on his face.

“Just the thing that I needed to cap off my day. A damn serial killer.” The mutt said, darkly.

He paused again and turned to face David in his car. David noticed a wayward, sweaty curl that fell over his forehead. The guy really was pretty cute. Despite the sweaty and dirty dog suit that hid him from the neck down, the face was killer- it was the eyes, David decided, those big, golden eyes that shined with a combination of innocence and cynicism that was oddly erotic.

The mutt set his grubby paws on his hips. “If you’re going to kill me anyway, you may as well give me a ride first.”

David arched one his world-famous thick brows. “Is that right?”

The mutt waddled over to the passenger side without answering. David briefly considered not unlocking the door and driving off instead, but he realized he was just curious enough to see this through. He clicked the unlock button. It was an awkward fit with the bulky suit, and David quickly realized that the combination of sweat, dirt and musty dog costume was a dangerous thing in a small sports car. He rose down the passenger side window.

“My curiosity is killing me.” David said cheerfully as he accelerated down the road.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” The mutt stared ruefully out the window at the blur of lights.

David chuckled. “Come on, give me a hint? What, did you bite your owner in the ass? New girlfriend allergic to pets? Too many fleas on the sofa…”

“Oh, that’s right! Now I know who you are- that aging comedian with the dying career cause all his jokes suck. Am I right?”

“Ringworms. That’s it, isn’t it? Poor little mutt.” David gave his best pitiful look, but he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.

“Just take me to the nearest hotel, thank you very much.” The mutt replied tightly.

David ran his tongue over the front of his teeth. Taking the mutt to the nearest hotel would take all of three minutes in a town like this. No way was he giving up the fun that easily.

“Come on, I won’t tell. I dare you.” He implored him.

“You dare me? Alright then- no wait, I’m not six years old, so daring me won’t work.”

David chuckled. The guy was a piece of work, and he should kick him right out on his ass; but something about those jaded tawny eyes and all that curling hair that David discovered turned burgundy in the low lights…

“You are one sarcastic mutt. You usually talk to people who go out of their way to do favors for you like that?”

“We have to have passed at least a half dozen hotels by now.” The mutt mumbled.

David bit the inside of his cheek. “Those are human hotels…”

“You know what, that’s it! Let me out, I’ll walk!”

The mutt actually grabbed for the door handle and David hastily clicked the child locks.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You’re right that was one joke too many.” David nearly blew it by laughing out loud, and he concentrated his eyes on the long dark road ahead.

Several minutes went by before the mutt spoke again.

“Patrick.”

David eyed him blankly and the mutt huffed his agitation.

“My name is Patrick. You may as well know who you’re going to kill.”

“Patrick. Got it.” David said, and continued driving.

Patrick waited a beat. “Well?”

“Yes?” David asked, straining with the effort to hide his amusement.

“You know what? Never mind! I don’t know what I was thinking, you’re clearly still a child.”

David only nodded and continued to drive. He toyed with the idea of turning on the radio but figured that was pushing it too far. He contemplated his current situation; Vegas was a city in another world. Nothing around here seemed quite real, everything had a shine of unreality, but the feeling of escapism gave him a bold sort of courage that he may not have found anywhere else. The flashing lights, the loud signs, offset by long stretches of dirt road. For the first time in months, he felt his shoulder start to relax.

He glanced over at his unhappy passenger from the corner of his eye. He had no idea what he planned on doing with the guy; he’d passed at least a half dozen hotels, but something in him was reluctant to end their strange encounter.

“Is it Canada that I hear in your voice?” David finally asked.

For a moment David thought he wouldn’t answer, and then with a soft sigh he shifted in his seat and leaned his head to the side against the window.

“Toronto. Just another cliché’; a Canadian boy running to the big United States to chase all his dreams.”

David heard the bitterness in his voice but chose to ignore it. Whatever problems the mutt had were none of David’s business, but he practically felt himself itching with curiosity. He scratched his nose.

“I’m surprised you come from Canada, and you don’t know who I am.”

“Are we back to that.”

David thumbed the side of his mouth. He was used to people fawning all over him not just for his money or his looks but also for his access to society- his success, his famous family- any one of those things! Maybe that was the reason he hesitated to end his time with the cute Patrick.

“Do I even want to know where you’re hiding your wallet? Or were you planning on bartering that infectious charm for a hotel room?” David asked.

Patrick turned in his seat to face David (which was difficult to do considering the bulk of his suit).

“You’re arguably a great looking guy- “

“Thank you.”

“- You’re driving a car that I’m positive costs more than what I currently make in a year.”

“Undoubtably.”

“You seem reasonably smart, although not intimidatingly so.”

“I do have a monthly subscription to Elle Magazine.”

“So why, I wonder, is a blindingly handsome, moderately intelligent, rich guy scouring the streets desperate for entertainment? Especially in Las Vegas where a guy like you could find company just stepping out your door?”

“I have a personality disorder. Hey, we have that in common!” David exclaimed.

When the mutt continued to look at him dryly, David let out a long sigh. Why couldn’t it ever just be simple?

“Why can’t it ever just be simple?” He parroted his thoughts out loud.

Patrick leaned his head back against the seat. “Because you’re a blindingly handsome, moderately intelligent, rich guy picking up a hitchhiking guy in a dog suit without a head walking down a dark Las Vegas Street.”

David thought about this for a moment.

“You weren’t hitchhiking.”

Patrick threw up his paws in exasperation. “Just forget it!”

They rode for another mile in silence, each thinking about the circumstances of their lives that had placed them on that long, deserted Las Vegas road.

Chapter Text

Patrick Brewer leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. It seemed the appropriate cap for an odd month; he smiled ruefully thinking of how he came to find himself riding in the passenger seat of Multi-millionaire David Roses’s car. Of course Patrick knew who the Rose streaming service tycoon was- he’d have had to be living under a rock not to know David Rose of the infamous Billionaire Rose family. Canadian golden child who’d made his fortune transitioning the Rose Video stores into the 21st century with new and approved streaming platforms that had crossed the Rose empire from a multi-million-dollar conglomerate into one of the rare Billion-dollar industries. David had then branched out using the credibility he’d accumulated as CEO of Rose Videos to venture into several entrepreneurial businesses including the Rose Apothecary, which was Patrick’s mom’s absolute favorite place to shop.

Patrick released a long, shuddering breath at the thought of his mother; if she could see him now, she’d have a heart attack. Nice, sensible, and dependable Patrick Brewer had lost his freaking mind and ran off with his wild child ex-girlfriend to chase their dreams in the USA. What a crock of shit, and how stupid had he been to trust in beautifully flaky Rachel Madison.

“You hungry? I personally haven’t eaten since breakfast and- no offense to you- but for some reason I could really use a hot dog.”

Patrick wanted to smile so he scowled instead. The man was outrageous, and Patrick was crazy to get in the car with him; if he hadn’t recognized who the infamous David Rose was the moment he had pulled up in his obviously mid-life crisis Lexus, Patrick would have kept on walking. Even though he had nowhere to go.

“I lost my appetite a long time ago. If you’ll just drop me off in town somewhere, I’ll find my way.”

Big talk, Patrick thought to himself, for a man who was depressingly directionless. It was ironic, wasn’t it, that being in this car with David Rose was the safest that Patrick had felt in weeks.

“Now, what kind of host would I be if I abandoned you in the middle of a lost Vegas crowd?” David asked.

Patrick sighed and opened his eyes to peer out at the night road illuminated by the countless signs advertising a fast life and even faster good times.

“The kind of host that gives their passengers what they want?” Patrick retorted numbly.

But leaving the car- and the oddly comforting millionaire- wasn’t what Patrick wanted.

David seemed to think about this for a moment and then nodded his head as if he were agreeing with what Patrick had said.

“You’re right, hot dogs likely won’t sit well in our stomachs, considering. I know this great place that serves the best apple pies, and it’s not very far from here?”

David posed it as a question, although Patrick had the distinct impression that he would be riding with him to the mysterious restaurant regardless. The thought of apple pie had his mouth watering and he decided that there were worse fates.

“You still haven’t told me your name.” He replied, changing the subject.

David’s smile showcased the dimple in his right cheek, and even though Patrick was now prepared for it, the sight of that charming crease caused a tug in his belly that confused him. Not because he’d never found men attractive (his sexuality was something he was just beginning to come to terms with) but because he never would have pegged the overly indulged, over sexed, and infamously promiscuous Tycoon as being his type.

“Steve Budd. It’s nice to make your acquaintance.” David replied smoothly.

Patrick shook his head and considered the wisdom in letting him get away with that. He decided to play it by ear.

“Why would you think I should know who you are? I’ve never heard of a Steve Budd in Canada.”

David tugged at his ear. “My mistake, you seemed like the type who liked to watch pig wrestling.”

Patrick choked on a laugh and had to cough to cover it up.

“You’re a pig wrestler?”

David dug into the center console and grabbed a pack of Newport’s. “You mind?” He asked.

When Patrick shook his head no, David lit the cigarette and took a long drag. Patrick hated cigarettes and considered the people who smoked them to be lacking in basic self-control, but he kept that opinion to himself.

“These things will kill me.” David uttered, exhaling a long stream of smoke.

“What?” Patrick hated not being in control of a conversation, but trying to follow David was like trying to keep up with a hyper-active five-year-old.

“Just making the statement before you could; I could see the judgment in your eyes.” David said mouth full of toxic cigarette.

Patrick’s mouth tightened and he could feel himself turning into the tight ass his ex-girlfriend had accused him of being right before she had talked him into accompanying her on this foolhardy trip.

“Your choices are your own.” he replied, sounding stiff even to his own ears.

“God, you’re a piece of work!” David exclaimed, tossing the still-lit cigarette out the window.

Patrick only shrugged, turning his head to look out the window so that David wouldn’t see his smile. They pulled into the driveway of a café that immediately transferred Patrick back to the 50’s. The old-style diner was lined with peeling pink and white paint and an olds mobile propped out front that boldly professed the diner as serving the best apple pies in all of the Las Vegas County since 1958.

“What is this place?” he asked, dubiously.

“Nirvana.” David claimed, looking Patrick over from head to paw.

“What?” Patrick asked, resisting the urge to cover himself, then feeling angry about his self-consciousness.

“Nothing it’s just… I cannot be seen in public with a guy dressed in a dog suit.” David said, painfully.

Patrick’s jaw dropped. “You’re a pig wrestler!”

“Then again,” David continued as if he hadn’t spoken “People might look at it as a charity case and that will surely win me points with the public.” He mused.

“Glad I could help.” Patrick bit out tightly.

David thew him a bright smile before jumping out of the car. Patrick sat in his seat for another moment trying to regulate his breathing. He’d have to do a better job of controlling his off the wall reaction to David if this little impromptu road trip was going to work. David had that sort of off-kilter, effortless beauty that was almost too overwhelming. With his gleaming dark hair swept up from his forehead, those dark melted chocolate eyes, and those famous slashing brows, he looked more like a dressed-up pirate than the multi-millionaire mogul that he was.

“You coming? Cause not to be too insensitive, but I’m not ready to trust my car to a homeless, rangy mutt just yet.”

Patrick could feel his face growing red as he hastily (well, as hastily as he could with a bulky dog suit) jumped out of the car to stand next to David. Even as he warned himself not to react and to rise above David’s obvious attempts at antagonism, he could practically feel the words bubbling up in his throat.

“You know you’re ridiculous, right? You have the disposition of a slob and the humor of a three-year-old.” Patrick retorted, angrily.

Davind only grinned and shrugged like a man without a care in the world, that bastard.

“You realize that every time you address me that way, my age gets smaller and smaller?”

And with that he left Patrick sputtering on the road. Patrick stormed after him into the diner, eyes straining to adjust to the bight florescent lights inside the white-washed 50’s style restaurant. A busty gray-haired waitress carrying a brown-stained coffee pot spotted them as they walked in and Patrick swore he saw her grow six inches as she straightened her shoulders and- God- pumped out her chest.

“Mr. Rose! I knew you would be back to see us, it’s such an honor! You’re my absolutely favorite celebrity to ever dine here.” she exclaimed (in what Patrick thought must be a fake southern accent), though he got the impression that she told that to every celebrity she saw.

David tossed her his casual, charming smile, silver rings gleaming on his fingers as he held out a hand for the waitress to take.

“Sharon. You know I couldn’t stay away. Those apple pies are almost as sweet as your smile, darling.”

Patrick wanted to hurl.

He turned away to find an empty booth which wasn’t hard to do since the place was empty at this time of night. He found one closer to the back and waited for David to join him.

“You told me your name was Steve Budd.”

David settled into the booth, looking around the empty diner, no doubt hoping to find some fans to pump his ego some more.

“It is. I tell people my name is David Rose so they don’t recognize me from the pig wrestling circles. I’m pretty famous in those parts.”

Patrick shook his head and refused to justify that with a response. He grabbed a menu hoping there was something in the selection that wouldn’t clog his arteries; judging by the décor, he figured he was out of luck.

“Don’t worry about that, I already put our order in with Sharon.” David told him.

Patrick slammed the menu shut. “How do you know that I’ll even like what you ordered? I’m not paying for something I won’t enjoy.”

David had the audacity to roll his eyes as if Patrick were the one behaving like a bratty child.

“Chill. It’s my treat, and besides you’ll strain your little brain trying to find a healthy option on that menu. Spoiler, it doesn't exist.”

Patrick bit his tongue at the jab that was much too close to the truth. He told himself it didn’t matter, a free meal was a free meal after all, and with only a couple hundred dollars left to his name he could take all the free he could get. But it galled to have David read him to effortlessly.

“You don’t look much like a pig wrestler.” He said in an attempt to divert the attention off of himself.

David arched a brow at him. “And what’s that supposed to look like?”

Patrick shrugged. “You tell me.”

David considered him as the waitress brought out their meals. Patrick tried his best not to gawk at the huge white plates piled high with pancakes smothered in syrup, crispy bacon, greasy sausage, and cheesy scrambled eggs. He wasn’t sure if he was impressed or appalled. David only smiled. Bastard.

David nodded to Sharon before turning his attention back to Patrick. “I’m afraid I left my steel-toed boots and leather chaps at home.”

Patrick choked on a piece of savory bacon. “Stop it.”

David laughed and for the first time Patrick allowed the smile to tug at his lips. It wasn’t so bad after all. They ate the rest of their meal in unspoken agreement to avoid any conversation that would set the other off. Patrick realized that when David wasn’t trying to antagonize him, that he was actually a great person to talk to. He almost wanted to spill all the secrets he had weighing on his chest, but then he realized how foolish that thought was and shoved more eggs in his mouth.

“Let’s hit up a casino.” David said abruptly.

Patrick stared in confusion, hurrying to finish the whole pile of food he’d just shoved down his gullet.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, but I’m not a big shot pig wrestler like yourself. I don’t exactly have money to blow.” Patrick replied, taking a sip of orange juice to help settle the food down his throat.

David only waved this away.

“What the hell are you doing in Vega then? Don’t worry, I just won a huge Pig tournament, so I’ll spot you some extra cash. You can pay me back when you win big.” David said, gleefully.

His energy was so infectious, and this night really couldn’t get any weirder, but plain old Patrick Brewer could only be so exciting. He’d reach his quota for a lifetime. It was time that he got to a hotel, phoned his parents, and arranged a safe trip back home. His trip to the US was a complete bust, and it was time that he took things seriously. He had a career that he needed to get back to, responsibilities that he needed to handle. He couldn’t squander all his time gambling in Vegas with a Multi-millionaire moonlighting as a pig wrestler.

Patrick meant to say all of this to David, he really did. He even opened his mouth to say the words. There was no one more surprised than him that what he said instead was:

“Alright Steve, let’s do it.”

Chapter Text

“Alright Steve, let’s do it.”

David wasn’t sure if what he felt was relief or irritation, and it was the irritation that most confounded him. They’d been riding together for all of two hours now and the guy was as much of a mystery to David now as when they had started this thing. David was shocked at himself that he hadn’t gotten rid of the mutt yet; it was a simple thing to drop him off at any of the dozens of hotels around town, but David hadn’t felt this relaxed, nor had he had this much fun in such a long time. Outside of his family and a handful of close friends, the people around David had always been more like vultures gnawing the skin off his bones than genuine companions. It was perhaps the tension and lack of trust that he carried for almost every person in his orbit that he’d eventually gotten to the point that had ultimately burned him out.

He glanced over again at the passenger seat. Patrick made him laugh and think, and something about the guy assured David that if he didn’t stay on his toes that he’d be easily run over. Not only that, but for the first time in a long time, David seemed to be in the presence of someone who didn’t want anything from him. David couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun just talking with somebody. Matching wits and sparing just for the hell of it.

Of course, Patrick knew exactly who David was, David had no pretense about that. It had taken all of fifteen minutes for David to conclude that a stiff like Patrick would not have gotten into a car with a total stranger unless he had recognized him from the start. Just one more game in the dozens of little games they had going on. Though he had to admit it was kind of fun playing a famous pig wrestler from Canada.

His car phone rang and he glanced at the Bluetooth ID, cursing softly when he read the readout. Patrick arched a brow and turned to face David, not even attempting to hide his curiosity.

“You mind?” David bit out.

Patrick grinned and shrugged. “Nope.”

David cursed him again and picked up his phone, turning off the car speaker.

“Hello Dad.” He grumbled.

“David! I’ve been trying to reach you all day! Your mother is worried sick, and Alexis is ready to hop on a plane to come get you personally. You ought to be more considerate, son.” Johnny Rose exclaimed.

David rolled his eyes. His father wasn’t normally prone to dramatics, which was why David figured he was simply a mouthpiece for his mother, Moira Rose. Not to mention Alexis was 7 months pregnant and unlikely to hop anywhere for the next 2 months.

David wedged the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Well, mom is worried sick about the sky when it’s anything but clear blue; and if Ted allows Alexis to travel this late in her term, then I’ll personally fly to meet them and kick his ass.”

Patrick snorted and David glared at him, twisting to try and give himself more privacy. Fat chance with Patrick openly listening to his conversation.

“Language, David. Anyway, none of this is why I actually called. You missed the last meeting with the board. They’re really getting worried, son, and I must insist that you address this personally.” Johnny had a note of concern in his voice that David rarely heard.

The space between his shoulder blades began to itch. His recent relationship with Sebastien Raine had put a bad taste in the Rose Video Streaming board member’s mouths. Not just because of who Sebastien was, but because of all the trouble David had managed to get into during the short duration of their tumultuous relationship. David had known Sebastien sine he was in college but had managed to stay away from the socialite steel heir due to his bad reputation but dating Sebastien had been the first in a long string of mistakes that David had made over the last year since this crazy restlessness had started- hence his recent trip to reset.

“Talk to them dad, you’re good at that. I broke up with Sebastien, gave interviews explaining what happened. I’ve been clean for months. I don’t know what else to do.” David replied, exasperated with the entire thing.

David steadfastly avoided looking at Patrick, though he could feel the man’s eyes boring a hole in the side of his face. He jerked his shoulder, irritably. It somehow felt wrong, that this part of his life could invade the bubble he’d formed around himself with Patrick, but reality was always just a freaking phone call away. No matter how far or how fast he’d tried to run.

“The success of our company is largely based on public favor, David. You know this because I’ve told you a hundred times. All I ask is that you don’t create anymore mess while you’re on this hiatus.” Johnny stated, finally getting to the purpose of his call.

“I get it dad, I’m only a puppet in the machine. I’ll be sure not to tug on my strings too hard that they’ll snap.” David retorted, irrationally angry.

“David- “

“I gotta go, Dad. Bad connection. I’ll call when I can.” David hung up.

Silence hung like oppressive smoke in the small confines of the car. David was angry with himself, getting worked up again talking to his father; the last thing he wanted was to show too much of himself to Patrick and taint the fun they’d been having. He wasn’t ready for reality to intrude on this crazy night, but he wasn’t sure what to say or do to overcome the mood that phone call had dumped in the car. His hands tightened on the steering wheel, and he cursed himself, his father, his circumstances, his life…

“Pig wrestling sure does sound like serious business.” Patrick intoned.

For a moment, David wasn’t sure he heard him right; then, gradually his hands began to relax on the wheel, and eventually he was throwing his head back and laughing out loud.

“You have no idea.” David replied.

They drove for the next mile in happy silence, neither wanting to acknowledge the space between the two of them that had somehow gotten smaller. Eventually, they pulled into a large parking lot.

“Now, normally I would suggest we get you changed first- but I think you might actually fit in better with the dog costume.” David said tossing a sly look over at Patrick, who was huddled against the side window of the car.

David sincerely hoped he wasn’t going to change his mind about coming, because David hadn’t anticipated anything more than he anticipated gambling with his curly haired mutt.

Patrick resolutely looked out the window avoiding meeting David’s gaze. He seemed to be deciding between racing into the Casino and running far in the opposite direction.

“You’re not afraid of being seen with me all of a sudden? What’s changed.” he asked, curiously.

David shook his head. Patrick couldn’t care less about embarrassing David; he was clearly having second thoughts. That boldness that had pushed him at the diner seemed to be wearing off fast and David needed to do something to distract him just enough to get them to the Casino.

“Like I said, you’ll fit right in with the Vegas crowd in that suit, trust me. If anything, I might be the one who embarrasses you. I mean look how pathetically ordinary I look.” David said in disgust, even though his outfit alone probably cost more than what Patrick made in a month.

Patrick smirked and David took that as a positive sign. “You do look ridiculous.”

“Exactly.” David agreed, unoffended.

David decided to push him a little more. “You know,” he drawled easily, “you could, for just one night of your life, loosen up and go a little wild. Nobody here to judge you but me, and you couldn’t care less about my opinion.”

Patrick scrunched his nose. “Your opinion means less than nothing.”

David tapped the steering wheel. “My point. What other opportunity are you ever going to have to just be crazy?”

Patrick jerked his shoulder noncommittally, but David could tell that he was thinking about it, so he let it go.

David decided not to push his luck as they drove around the lot and pulled into the VIP section of the luxurious Aria Casino.

“You have got to be kidding me.” Patrick gasped, twisting in his seat to gape at David.

David only continued to smile because yeah… With its tall, sweeping towers that glowed an iridescent swirl of periwinkle, indigo and magenta offset by rising and falling fountains of shooting streams of water all shot through with blazing lights- the Aria stood as a tall and proud display of opulence, decadence and excess.

“Come on, Mutt. Let’s make all your dreams come true.” David declared, arrogantly.

The rest of the night carried on in a whirlwind of colors, alcohol, money (won and loss), laughter and bickering, plotting, and scheming, racing from one table to the next like little kids in a candy store. It was possibly the best night of David’s life. Patrick, for his part, seemed to gradually relax as the night wore on and even began to enjoy that silly dog costume that was way too dirty and out of place to be discreet.

“I think you were right, Steve!” Patrick shouted drunkenly.

David laughed, amused to find that he himself wasn’t quite as sober as he had assumed he was. Must have been that last margarita.

“About what?” He slurred.

Patrick laughed- he had a really pretty laugh- and draped one furry paw over David’s shoulders.

“Everything!” Patrick exclaimed, waving his furry arm to expand the entire casino.

People smiled as they walked past the happy couple, some looking on in envy either remembering the days they were so in love, or wishing they could ever experience love so grand. The happy “couple” simply carried on in blissful ignorance.

It was the night; there was something magical about it: the lights, the noise, the sense of fantasy that could only be found in a Las Vegas casino. David would think back on that night and remember it as a haze of overarching sensations, one on top of another. He would remember the golden glow of Patrick’s eyes- the way they turned tarnished when he was challenging David, the way they grew tawny like a cat’s when he was plotting on some poor blackjack dealer.

Patrick grabbed David by the hand and led him out the side exit. The night was bright and young, and full of promise for two men who had decided to shed the skin of their unhappy existence and become better versions of themselves.

“You know, Steve, you’re not half bad for a pig wrestler.” Patrick decided.

David laughed, shifting the curl from Patrick’s forehead. “I’m going to ignore the blatant prejudice of that statement and graciously accept your compliment.”

“See! You do that. I say something genuine and sincere, and you turn it into a half criticism.” Patrick pointed out.

“How the hell else am I supposed to take a statement like that?” David demanded.

“Like what?” Patrick asked, confused.

They glared at each other for a minute before they burst into laughter. “What were we arguing about, again?” Patrick asked.

“I have no fucking clue.” David said.

He didn’t remember where they went next or what they did, but he remembered that he had to be gentle. Patrick’s lips were soft like the inside of a freshly bloomed rose petal. If David were sober, that thought would have made him shiver in embarrassment, but his alcohol induced brain thought it was the perfect metaphor to describe Patrick’s impossibly soft mouth. His sigh was soft, his surrender intoxicatingly complete.

They were somewhere outside the casino, the breeze fresh and with a slight bite of chill in their faces, the water a soothing echo in the background, the noise of the casino so far muted, it was like another universe.

His hands wanted to feel the lithe body hidden underneath the bulky dog suit, but he had to content himself with his face, his neck, all those wonderfully soft curls. Patrick made a deep, grumbling sound that seemed to unearth from the pit of his stomach and opened his mouth more to delve deeper as he tangled his tongue with David’s.

This was paradise, this was pleasure, this was feeling. It was the last thing David remembered.

Chapter Text

There was a small drummer’s band parading around inside his head. Patrick groaned heavily and opened his eyes, only for the blast of morning sunshine to stab him in the eyes. With a yelp he shut his eyes tight again and just barely resisted the urge to whimper. His head was practically pulsating with pain, his eyes felt like watery pools of fire, and every joint in his body ached as if he’d been run over by a train; but none of that was as bad as the desert island currently taking up residence in his mouth. This was why he never drank.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Mutt. All this time you were hiding a nice little body under that dog suit.”

Patrick shot up in bed at the sound of David’s voice as his worst nightmares became his reality. Squinting his eyes against the glare of the sun, he managed to get a good look at the decadent hotel room he was currently dying in. The marbled opulence of the spacious suite shone with glittering gold, and eggshell white with honey toned draperies and jewel encrusted chandeliers. Patrick basically swam in a bed that he could only describe as double king size-

“It’s a California King.” David chuckled.

Patrick glared at him. “This is all your fault! I have never hated another human being more.”

David jerked a shoulder and leaned against the bathroom door jam. He was five feet nine inches of glorious morning male. Black hair rumpled sexily in a style others paid thousands to artificially recreate, chocolate eyes heavily lidded and slumberous, full mouth quirked sexily- he was an exotic, immoral pirate. Patrick noticed for the first time that David wasn’t wearing a shirt and the coarse black hair on his chest was so sexy Patrick had to drag his eyes away before he embarrassed himself even more than he already had.

“Calm down. Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic? You wanted one night of crazy, and you got it. No harm no foul, comme ci comme ca, no?” David replied, eyes saying he knew exactly where Parick’s thoughts had drifted.

Patrick yanked the heavy blankets away looking around for his things. At least he hadn’t awakened naked, that had to count for something, though his mouth felt disgusting like the inside of a trash heap, he was still fully clothed in tee shirt and slacks.

“I said a little bit of crazy, and you kamikazed that, didn’t you! I don’t even know how you can be so calm about it all, I can’t remember most of what we did, and we had a pretty early start.” Patrick bit out.

He hated how casual David was being when he felt like he was on the precipice of great ruin. Maybe he was overreacting, maybe it was as simple as David seemed to think it was, but Patrick had never done anything like this before and it was yet another out-of-character occurrence in a series of chaotic impulses that has been afflicting him for the past couple of months. He felt like he was losing his mind. First Rachel now David… Was he destined to get caught up with wild, reckless people?

For the first time David’s easy veneer seemed to slip and he tossed his head back in irritation.

“Nevermind you’re a grown man with autonomy…You had a good time. You drank a little too much, gambled away some body else’s money, and acted like a human being instead of a robot for one fucking night. It’s not the end of the world.” David turned back into the bathroom and shut the door, effectively cutting off Patrick’s retort.

Patrick clenched his fists and jumped up from the bed to gather his stuff. Screw that guy. He resolutely ignored the truth in David’s statement, ignored the fact that he had a choice and had chosen to spend the night gambling with David. He could have said no to those drinks and had instead chosen to drink them and let loose for once in his miserably boring life. But admitting that meant admitting that his entire existence up until this point had been an exercise in futility. What had he really accomplished if he were still this dissatisfied at 30 years old?

There seemed to be an anvil crushing his chest and Patrick blindly grabbed his shoes and socks right as David came storming out the bathroom a sheaf of papers gripped in his hands.

“How could this happen! This is a disaster. We were drunk out of our fucking minds! Who would allow us to do this, I’d like to know! I swear I’m going to sue; I’ll own this entire fucking city…”

David stormed around the spacious hotel waving the papers like a lit fuse and Patrick felt his stomach sink lower to his knees. An eerie sort of weightlessness took over and he felt the vortex that had become his life sucking him deeper into the abyss.

“What’s that?” But the words were whispered, and so low David didn’t hear.

“I need to call my lawyers. Fuck I’m going to wring somebody’s neck. This is insanity, this is extortion. This has to be against the law. Aren’t you going to say anything?” David demanded, whirling to face Patrick.

“Yelling won’t solve your problems.” Patrick answered numbly.

David sneered at him, waving the papers in Patrick’s face. There was a small white smudge of toothpaste at the corner of his mouth that Patrick felt mesmerized by.

“You sound like a fucking soccer mom. Now isn’t the time for calm and rational, Patrick. What the fuck are we going to do about this?”

Patrick sighed. “Your language has devolved to the point where I can barely talk to you. Would it be possible for you to speak a full sentence without the word “fuck” tossed in?” Patrick asked, stiffly.

David shoved the papers in Patrick’s hands and stormed away to the windows. “Fuck. Fuck this, fuck you, fuck Vegas.” He retorted, childishly.

“Very Mature.” Patrick gripped the papers tightly.

“You wouldn’t know. I’ve never met another grown man so scared to hear a few curse words. Here’s a suggestion, Patrick: Grow the hell up.”

Patrick refused to engage with him when he spoke like that, so turned his back to read the papers that had been shoved in his hands. He felt the blood drain smoothly out his body.

“This isn’t real.” He whispered, brokenly.

For the first time since barging out of the bathroom, David looked smug. “Perks of being an important person. We can do whatever we want, including pushing the proper papers and avoiding the proper channels to get married in less than 24 hours.”

Patrick heard a stream of curse words in his mind but refused to give David the satisfaction of saying them out loud.

“You said something about lawyers. Surely this can be undone just as quickly as it was done?” Patrick replied, searching for rational thinking before he broke down.

David shoved a hand through his hair, the air seemed to have been sucked out of him and now he just looked tired.

“Yeah. I can’t believe I let it get this far. My dad- shit!” David jerked up from the window, looking as pale as Patrick was sure his own face looked.

“What’s wrong? It can’t be that difficult to get an annulment; we were drunk for goodness sakes!” Patrick exclaimed.

David held up a hand and began his pacing again.

“David!”

“Just give me a second will you! Please.”

Patrick shut his mouth only because he didn’t have the energy to spar with him, not with how raw he was feeling. David stopped pacing and turned back to face Patrick; arms crossed over his chest.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do; We’ll stay married- “

“The hell we will!” Patrick exploded, hardly able to believe his ears.

David sighed. “I can’t be involved with another scandal, I just can’t. This could not have come at a worse time! This could ruin everything. If the board found out about this, it would give them all the ammunition they needed to vote me out.”

“Screw the board! I’m not staying married to you.” Patrick grated.

David was suddenly calm, and he simply nodded at Patrick’s outburst.

“What difference will it make? One week versus one month? The vote is next month and after that happens, we’ll have a quiet annulment and move on with our lives, no harm done.”

Patrick’s mouth opened and shut and he knew he looked like a fish out of water, but he felt like he’d stepped out of his nice, orderly life straight into the twilight zone.

“I can, of course, pay you for the trouble.” David continued; the easygoing drifter Patrick had met only hours before replaced with a cold-hearted business mogul.

Patrick jerked as if he had been slapped. He didn’t know why David’s cold offer hurt, and he was furious with himself for even an instant of vulnerability.

“Screw you, David.” Patrick said, unaware that he’d called him by his real name.

Nothing seemed to matter anymore; he’d hit rock bottom- this was the lowest he had ever been. The anvil on his chest sank lower as he turned to the door.

“You have nowhere to go, Patrick,” David reminded him, “I’m offering you a reprieve; a chance to have some breathing room- financially speaking- while you figure your stuff out.”

“All I’d have to do is sell my soul?” Patrick demanded, turning back to face him.

David waved this away. “Stop being so dramatic. You can do whatever you want, and I’ll handle the logistics. You would, of course, need to sign an NDA.”

Patrick wanted to hurt him; he realized tha the wanted to get past that icy exterior and hit the soft center he’d glimpse the night before.

“How much money.” He demanded.

David didn’t even flinch. “Ten thousand a week.”

Patrick choked until his eyes teared up. David simply watched and waited patiently. Cold hearted bastard.

“Ten thousand, are you insane!” Patrick roared once he’d finally got his breath back.

David took out his phone to flick through the contacts- Patrick assumed to look for his lawyer’s number.

“As I said, you would need to sign an NDA, and I would expect you to accompany me to Washington state where we’ll lay low in my ranch house until all this has died down with the board of directors.”

“Just like that?” Patrick wondered, not sure what he wanted to hear.

“Just like that.” David answered, offering him nothing.

Patrick crossed his arms and looked out the window. He had choices- limited choices, but he wasn’t as helpless as David seemed to think he was. He still had his 2 hundred dollars, and his parents…Patrick shut his eyes. He didn’t want to run back to his parents and the idea of slinking back home with his tail tucked between his legs to beg for his old job back and resume a life that had begun to crush his soul, depressed him.

He stared blindly until the buildings outside the window began to blur and felt the familiar detachment consume him that had guided his actions over the last few weeks.

“Alright,” he heard himself say, “Draw up the papers.”

Patrick listened with half an ear as David spoke with his lawyers and wondered how the glare of light could expose all the harsh truths that the night had blissfully hidden.

Chapter Text

What had he done?

Contractual agreements, postnuptial agreements, non-disclosure agreements, job disclosures- Document after document faxed over to their hotel by his lawyers (the best in the country) and it all felt so surreal, David couldn’t stand any of it.

He watched as Patrick robotically signed his name to every piece of document shoved under his nose and David resolutely swallowed the guilt that wanted to claw up his throat. They were doing what had to be done, though neither had asked for any of this. They were now in a predicament where their consequences demanded payment, and neither could afford to be skittish about things. David only wished that the payment hadn’t been so high.

What had he done?

“This contract stipulates that I would have to live with you in your Washington home for the duration of the agreement; is that really necessary?” Patrick intoned.

David wished he would yell, scream, rage at David about how unfair all of this was. He was a small fish and David held all the power. He knew that Patrick believed he was doing this of his own free will, but David was savvy enough to recognize an opponent who had been effectively boxed into a corner- and to exploit him. He shook himself and tried to remember that Patrick was a grown man and not a child; a grown man who would walk away with a good fifty thousand after it was all said and done.

“Sooner or later the press will get wind of this. Either some fame hungry officiant, or clerk looking for a quick payday will release our marriage license to the public. It’s best if we look like a loving couple who meant to elope to Vegas rather than a drunken accident between two strangers who can’t stand each other.”

Patrick finally looked at him then, golden eyes dull like the edge of rusty metal. David hated it.

“Must be a terrible way to live, constantly needing to watch your back for fear that someone will try and make a name off of you.” Patrick replied, softly.

David felt the familiar itch between his shoulders and waved his fingers nonchalantly.

“You grow used to it. The Price you pay for fame, money, and public adoration.” David quipped.

Patrick nodded, disappointing David. He never would have imagined that he would actually miss arguing with the stiff-necked overly moral nag, but this deflated version of Patrick just didn’t sit well with David. He wanted his mutt back, and almost asked Patrick to put on the dog-suit again.

What had he done?

David cleared his throat. “Um, my sister- Alexis Rose Mullins- she’s the best PR in the game. She’ll know exactly how to spin this so that it becomes the greatest love story since Titanic.”

Not even a hint of a smile. “You plan on telling your family?”

David crossed his arms and went to stand in front of the large windows of their hotel room. It had only been 24 hours since they’d woken up to find themselves married, and already it felt like an eternity had passed between them. After thirty-five years and countless attempts from various men and women to settle him down, David Rose was finally a married man. He fingered the small box in his pocket.

“My private plane will be waiting to deliver us back to my Washington place tomorrow morning. We’ll have plenty of privacy there, and you can do whatever you want as long as you sleep there at night. I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine and this month should fly by.” David finally replied.

For a moment, he thought Patrick wouldn’t speak, but then he did, and David almost wished he hadn’t.

“Just like that?” Patrick asked, deflated.

David shook his head and tried to harden his heart against the treacherous tenderness that threatened to consume him. In his everyday life he may be easygoing and laid back, but as a businessman he’d had to learn to be ruthless and heartless. Patrick and he were now business associates, Patrick was now employed by him, and David needed to look at it this way in order to maintain his sense of detachment. His very necessary sense of detachment.

What had he done?

“Do you have any belongings that you need to pick up before we depart from Vegas?” Listen to you, David thought, sounding so official.

Patrick shook his head. “I need to return the dog suit to Ray’s Caddyshack. Other than that, nothing.”

David nodded. “We’ll leave it in the room, and I’ll have someone clean and deliver it back.”

“Thank you.” Patrick mumbled. So polite.

David turned back to the window. He wondered at the circumstances that had left Patrick alone in the middle of Vegas with nothing but the clothes on his back and the money in his pockets, but after everything that had happened, Patrick’s privacy was a small mercy that David could grant him.

He fingered the box in his pocket and finally reached in to take it out. He stared at the black velvet for a moment, a wry smile lining his full mouth. Ironic that when David Rose finally proposed, it would be in a Vegas hotel with a heap ton of contracts his lawyers had hastily thrown together between them. He held out the box to Patrick.

“What is that?” Patrick asked, pointlessly.

David moved closer to put the ring box on the marble table, all of a sudden nervous. His palms actually grew damp, which was idiotic. Screw this. He picked the box back up to flick open the lid, displaying a perfect Monique Lhuillier Bliss Emerald-Cut Handmade Diamond Engagement Ring.

“Give me your left hand.”

Patrick hesitated for only a moment, before holding out a hand that trembled only slightly, for David to place the ring on his finger.

“It fits.” Patrick observed, uselessly.

For a moment his fingers tightened around David’s, and it felt like things would be alright, that they hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of their lives; but then Patrick dropped his hand and the moment faded.

David cleared his throat.

“I’ll leave you alone to gather yourself before we have to plan our next moves. I need to make a few phone calls anyway. I’ll be in the conference room if you need me.” He turned to the door to make his great escape.

“David?”

David hesitated with his hand hovering over the doorknob, so close to freedom he could taste it. He turned back and could swear his heart did a full somersault in his chest. With the large windows shifting the golden sunlight over him, Patrick looked more like a fallen angel than his rangy mutt. His curly hair shone brown with streaks of blonde highlighted throughout, and his pale skin made him look more fragile than he had any right to. Those tawny eyes shone with a combination of earnestness, and trepidation that made David want to hug and kiss him and tell him to forget this whole crazy business. He’d figure out another way; but of course, he couldn’t, and he felt like a total failure.

He tightened his hand on the knob. “Yes?”

Patrick hesitated for a moment and David felt the tension so heavy and thick in the air, it was a wonder they both didn’t choke on it. Patrick visibly swallowed, and his shoulders seemed to sag, just a little.

“Never mind.”

David jerked his head in what he hoped looked like a friendly, casual nod, and barged from the room.

It was close to midnight before David returned to the darkened suite. Patrick was already in bed, but David couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not. He didn’t have the energy to ask. Patrick had left the drapes open so that the moonlight, highlighted by beams of light from the ever-active Vegas nightlife, sifted through the windows casting a luminous hue that was otherworldly. David undressed quietly, movements slow and uncharacteristically uncertain.

Something had shifted between them so that the fun and games had taken on a taint that had an odd lump forming in his throat that he stubbornly swallowed. He lifted the covers and slid in next to Patrick turning his body until they were facing opposite directions. Neither spoke, but David knew he was awake from his tense, and jerky breathing.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

Patrick didn’t speak, but David felt the bed shift as he turned onto his back to stare up at the ceiling.

“It isn’t your fault.” Patrick finally responded, quietly.

Then whose fault was it? David wanted to ask but didn’t. Couldn’t. He turned until he was facing Patrick, grateful for the night, grateful for the moonlight that had created just enough shadows to cast a mystery over the two of them. Perhaps they could be strangers again, for just one more night.

David wasn’t sure who moved first, but when their lips met softly in the middle, he couldn’t find the energy to care. He ran his tongue lightly over the seam of Patrick’s lips, and with a soft sigh that was part pleasure, part heady submission, Patrick opened and let him in. David tasted him, drank from him swallowing all those sweet moans and sighs and giving back his own.

His hands found their way to the curls he was steadily becoming obsessed with, delving deep until his fingertips lightly grazed the scalp. Patrick gave a small shiver and shifted closer to David.

They wouldn’t think about tomorrow, about the daylight and reality that was a subtle threat at the fringes of their bubble. Instead, they touched where they wanted, tasted to their hearts content until the room was heavy with the sounds of intimacy and the air was fragrant with desire. David undressed him slowly, marveling at each new layer of skin he revealed; Patrick returned the favor, sifting his fingers through the hair on Daivd’s chest, running them lightly up and down his arms until David felt like a tightly wound string ready to snap.

He trailed his lips down Patrick’s pale, but surprisingly strong, body until he found the hard length of him desperate for attention. David kissed his thighs, his hip bones, the deep crease between his pelvic bones until Patrick was writhing and begging. Only then did David put his mouth on him and gloried in the chasm that swept Patrick away; the one that had his body bowing off the bed with the intensity of his orgasm.

David felt his own nerves stretch to the quick. God, but he’d never touched anyone as responsive, as exciting as Patrick. He moved back up to position himself over him, kissing him and soothing the last echoes of shudders.

“Condom?” Patrick gasped against his mouth.

David reached over into the dresser to pull out a wrapper and lubricant. Patrick let out a choked laugh.

“Well, that’s handy.”

David smiled easily for the first time in over 24 hours. “I like to be prepared.”

He unwrapped the condom and protected them quickly, before repositioning himself. They didn’t speak again, but Patrick raised his arms to grip David’s shoulders; David ran his palms down Patrick’s abdomen before he gripped his legs and hooked them over his forearms. It wasn’t an easy fit even with the aid of the lubricant- David was large and Patrick was new, but after the initial awkwardness, they found their rhythm.

As David eased in and out of him, he bent forward to capture his lips, sinking into the kiss even as he sank into Patrick’s body. His chest felt tight, his head felt light, and his body was wracked with so much sensation he heard himself cry out helplessly. Had it ever been this way? This good? David didn’t know, and he gripped the sheets on either side of Patrick’s head as his thoughts began to become more incoherent until eventually, he couldn’t think at all.

Patrick’s hands shifted from his shoulders, to slide over David’s sweat slicked back as he lifted his legs higher and held on. Their breathing grew ragged until the only sounds in the darkened, moonlit room were harsh breathing and one body sliding over another. David felt Patrick shudder, heard him cry out softly, even as his nails dug deeply into David’s skin and finally, finally, David let himself go and followed Patrick into the glorious escape of pure bliss.

They didn’t speak afterward. David retreated to his corner of the bed to remove and tie up the condom, before tossing it in the trash. Patrick returned to his side, back to David as he lay motionless but, David knew, still awake. David turned his back to Patrick so that he wouldn’t have to look at those seemingly fragile, milk white shoulders for the remainder of the night.

What the fuck had he done?