Who Said Romance Was Dead? Who: Pat and Patience Where: Their home When: Saturday June 19th, Morning
Patience, it seemed, was in one of her antsier mood. She'd woken up early and (gasp) took Beast for a walk, trying to burn off that excess energy (she did have another idea for that, but poor Pat needed his sleep, didn't he?), and was now currently in the baby's room, cutely clad in a pair of overall's and a plain white tee, with a splotch of blue paint on her hand and nose. She was testing out colours and for the life of her couldn't decide which one to go with. Ah, hard decisions mother's have to endure, huh?
"Jesus, babe... " Pat yawned, walking into the room in his boxers, "how long have you been up? Beast looks like he just ran the goddamn Boston Marathon. Where's all this energy coming from?" He didn't mean to sound so constantly worried. Seriously. But he couldn't HELP it.
"I don't know!" She practically shrieked at him before giving him a big hug and a smooch just under his chin. Still, better to be energetic than feverish, right? …Right? "I swear I haven't gone to the Sugar Shack, either. Wouldn't want our boy to be deformed or anything now, would I?" She smirked.
"It's kind of scaring me, you know." He sighed, running a hand over his bald head in frustration. "How you get these sudden, frantic bursts of energy. Or sometimes you get fevers. Or almost pass out. I love that baby you have inside you, Patience, but I don't want to lose you again. Not for a child or for anything."
"Hey now," she purred, nuzzling into him a little. "I'm a tough bitch, remember? You've got nothing to worry about, baby." Despite all the worrying he already did, she didn't want to lump her own worry on top of that. She'd tough it out until the baby was born, then she'd have a nice little meltdown on him. Not before then.
"I love you so much... I just worry. And..." Trying to add a little levity to the situation, he smirked. "Only YOU could make that outfit look positively sexy."
"I thought you'd like it," she replied with a saucy little grin before giving him a none-too-subtle once over. "Mm, I think I like yours more,” she added with a nod.
"Well, obviously. Because nothing screams sexy like smiley-face boxers." He snorted with a wink, pulling her to him by the hips. "Your brother called last night, by the way. Said something about getting back in touch with your Aunt... Addison, I think... after all these years. Said he needs to talk to you about it."
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed up on her tippy-toes to give him a quick kiss on the lips, before giving him a look, arching one eyebrow. "Well, if that isn't vague and ominous..."
"Is anything dealing with your brother ever NOT vague and ominous?" Pat grinned, giving her a sharp smack on the ass.
She squealed at the smack and laughed, "You've got a good point, husband dear." She paused and thought on it for a moment. "Addison, though. I wonder what he's up to." She pouted thoughtfully.
"I'm sick. Seriously. We're standing here, having a serious conversation, and all I can think about is..." He blushed a little as he sighed. "How badly I want you. You're so damn sexy, you know that?"
Patience's' pouty look? Didn't last long. She laughed. Loudly. "I've been worried all morning that you need to sleep, only to find out that I could have jumped you!? Where's the justice!?"
"Well? There's always now..." Pat said with a faux-innocent grin. "I mean, I'm not busy... and not exactly wearin' much..."
"And who said romance was dead?" Patience replied with a snarky little grin, her fingertips playing across the hem of his boxers.
"Certainly not me." He snarked with a laugh. "Me and you? The king and queen of romance. Always." He pulled her to him again, giving her a longing, full-of-passion kiss. Despite how open and crass they could be? These two personified love and devotion.