"Who said anything about cutting down on my whiskey?" he joked, although he was keeping it under control these days.
He leaned in and kissed him again, taking more initiative tonight as opposed to letting Patrick come to him. "You are fucking me," he countered. "You aren't going anywhere and I am too fucking greedy to tell you to back off me until this thing is cleared up. I would miss you." He had actually. He didn't show up on someones doorstep early in the morning the way he had before. That just wasn't done. "I don't want you getting hurt, either. I would have to kill the fucker and then we have no problems."
He would have laughed at the fact that they were sitting in his bed on Christmas Eve, nearly discussing feelings and such. It wasn't what he would call a normal conversation, but this is what all those years came to and it was Christmas, and for a night even his stone heart could afford something. Had the man really said the word love in there? It was though, no matter what they did with anyone else. He laughed at them both, kissing Patrick again. "Now, let's make those showers worth it."