The Arrangement Ch 01 43

Dylan first met Patrick about a year ago, and his first impression far from being smitten at first sight was instead being slightly annoyed for reasons that were perhaps childishly embarrassing on Dylan's part.

It began with Dylan's booth at his favorite coffee spot, which he'd stumbled upon one day in a secluded side street and had been a frequent patron of ever since. Sure it didn't serve the best coffee, but it more than made up for it with a quaint charm and soothingly calm atmosphere, a far cry from the bigger, busier chains that dominated the main areas of town.

Neither was it his booth per-se, and in all fairness it was pretty gross what with its cracked leather and ancient coffee stains which were partially obscured by both willful ignorance and dim lighting. But he'd sat in it enough for the seats to probably memorize the shape of his ass. At the end of a grueling day at college, Dylan looked forward to nothing more than to settle down there and just unwind, comfortable in this purgatory between the responsibilities of college and home.

But one day Dylan was surprised to find that his normally vacant spot was occupied by some guy, which on sight immediately elicited a flicker of annoyance as unfounded as it was. He couldn't help feeling like he'd been swindled somehow as he sat down in some other inferior seat.

It happened again. And then again.

After the third time, Dylan found himself going in earlier than usual, which he'd told himself was to maybe get an early start on one of his many essays due. But if he was being honest with himself he was just trying to get back to his usual spot before the stranger got there first. As he entered he couldn't see anyone occupying the booth, immediately darting over to it and settling in with a contented sigh.

"You must really love this booth," a voice said, startling Dylan from his fleeting victory.

It was the guy, who coming from the direction of the restroom led Dylan to peer over the other side of the booth, a bag and a drink already there.

"Sorry, I'll get out your way," Dylan said, readying himself to scoot away with his tail between his legs.

"No, no if you wanna sit there by all means feel free," the guy said. Dylan wasn't sure whether the guy was being sarcastic or not.

"Nah, sorry man I'll just sit somewhere else," he replied, grabbing his things to leave.

"Well if you want to, I wouldn't mind the company though," the guy said, and this time Dylan could tell that he was actually sincere. At least he hoped he was. He also really hoped he wasn't being weird and trapping himself with a stranger.

"If you're sure," he said, settling back down in the booth.

For the first time, Dylan really looked at the guy.

He was about his age, slight, a head of unruly mousy brown hair and freckles across his cheeks, his eyes a rich brown. From when he was stood he was shorter than Dylan, perhaps a 5'10 to Dylan's 6'2. Overall, he was pretty cute, which Dylan elevated his judgement to definitely cute when he flashed a slightly awkward but endearing smile at him. It wasn't often that attractive guys talked to Dylan.

"Dylan," he ventured, sticking out his hand.

"Patrick," the guy replied, taking it with a nervous smile.

It turns out that they got along great.

Patrick was easy to talk to, easy going and slightly shy but as soon as he got out of his shell Dylan found that they both really clicked. They shared a fair few interests ranging from the same classic cheesy horrors to obscurely niche books that they'd both grown up reading. Compared to his other guy friends who mostly talked about sports and other typical bro topics, which he generally didn't mind either, it felt refreshing to talk to Patrick and indulge in interests he couldn't usually talk about.

Gradually, Dylan found he was crushing on Patrick. Hard.

Dylan had known he'd been gay since a young age, the first inkling being the undefinable feelings he felt when he let his eyes linger too long in the mens underwear section. A rite of passage for a lot of gay guys practically. As he came to understand these feelings and what they meant, he also came to understand these thoughts were best left hidden as he saw his dad yell a slur at a passing couple of men holding hands.

It was a visceral moment to know his own dad would hate him if he knew the real him, and Dylan had never forgotten it since. So he kept his head down, agreeing with his friends that this girl or the other was smoking hot and feigning interest when he knew deep down he was different. He longed for the day he could move out and never look back, someday maybe even getting a boyfriend of his own that he could hold hands with down the street without being harassed.

But now here was Patrick, and Dylan couldn't help but feel a burgeoning crush on his new friend. He'd noticed Patrick had never mentioned a girl nor any girlfriend present or otherwise, so a tiny glimmer of hope strayed at the back of his mind. in all likelihood it was wishful thinking, as if another gay guy would happen to pick the same seat as him in all the coffee shops in town. If only he was so lucky.

As luck would have it he was proven wrong.

It would be a few months on one night the two were hanging out, having snuck beer from Dylan's fridge that his dad seemingly forgot about. The two were slightly tipsy, laughing giddily at something that wasn't all that funny. Dylan was taken aback then when Patrick leaned forward and kissed him.

Dylan had never kissed anyone before, so to have his crush make the first move was startling to say the least. Patrick's lips were warm, his stubble brushing Dylan's mouth, the shared taste of shitty beer mixing with his breath. It was a clumsy, electrifying, vivid and surreal all at once. When Patrick began to pull back, Dylan grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him back towards him, an eager hunger igniting within him as he returned the kiss.

Suddenly everything was exciting and new, their first kiss turning into one of many as their friendship morphed into something more.

When Dylan asked how Patrick knew he was into guys, he simply laughed. "You let me borrow your laptop once and there were some gay porn searches auto-filled when I was doing some googling."

"I could have been just curious. Or looking just for a laugh?"

"Not with the kind of suggestions that search bar suggested you revisit you weren't," Patrick replied sending Dylan's cheeks aflame.

It wasn't long before they made it official between themselves, and Dylan for the first time, and for Patrick too, had a boyfriend. Months passed full of thrilling and romantic moments, secret kisses that left Dylan smiling giddily to himself. He'd never imagined that in this backwater town, he would find a sweet guy like Patrick who against all odds also liked him back. But here he was.

But it wasn't always easy. Theirs was a small and traditional town with it's fair share of prejudices and bigotry among its residents. It was the kind that for guys like Dylan and Patrick you'd either move away from and not look back or settle for secret handjobs in the woods with a discreet guy who no doubt had a wife and kids waiting at home. Being far from ideal, they tried to make the best of it and make it work,

They'd been so careful, but not careful enough.

Dylan had long since become a frequent visitor at Patrick's house as his 'new friend' and met the whole family. There was his father, Mr Grayson, a stern and no-nonsense type of man working at some prestigious accounting firm whose temper was always on a razor's edge. Mrs Grayson meanwhile took on the role of dutiful housewife, always fretting and stern in the endless process of cultivating her perfect household. Lastly was Patrick's younger sister Jessica who was more relaxed like her brother and seemed friendly enough but perhaps a bit withdrawn, probably because she too chafed under her parent's controlling hopes and dreams for their children.

Patrick would describe living under his parent's roof as like holding a breath that he didn't know when he could let go of, and Dylan could see why with the strict almost militant order of his household. Though by all means, their family was a picturesque ideal of the suburban nuclear family, fitting neatly among the other neighbors.

On that night they had gotten a bit frisky, taking the opportunity of the empty house by making good use of Patrick's bed, the two of them having wasted no time fucking like rabbits whenever they could ever since they'd gotten together. Usually, afterwards they disposed of their condom packets discreetly, burying them out of sight under layers of trash, but this time they'd somehow been careless. The calm quiet of the house was broken by an earsplitting screech from Mrs Grayson who demanded who was responsible for the used condom in the bin.

Simultaneously Dylan and Patrick's faces drained of color, casting panicked glances towards one another as they tried and failed to come up with a reasonable explanation for why there was a used condom in the house. Mrs Grayson stormed to their door, eyeing up the two of them with a scorn that made them immediately wilt under her furious gaze.

In the end, it was Jessica who saved them, arriving moments later and confidently delivering a casually dismissive wave and eye-roll in the face of her mother's rage and explaining that her and Dylan had been dating in secret for a while now.

The incredulous look on Mrs Grayson's face remained, but it faltered ever so slightly, a flicker of doubt disrupting the rage that had dominated her features moments before. It wasn't lost on Dylan that Mrs Grayson had first approached them both, and for a few moments, his blood ran cold as it appeared that she was perhaps more observant than he'd given her credit for. Had she suspected all this time about the true nature of Dylan and Patrick's relationship?

But they weren't to know for sure as with Jessica's intrusion the flow of her rage was interrupted.

With a huff Mrs Grayson demanded Dylan downstairs, ushering both him and Jessica to the kitchen table where Mr Grayson joined them. Both of them made it clear that while they were disappointed that Dylan and Jessica had been sneaking around behind their backs, they were still young and that ultimately they were at the very least glad they were practicing safe sex.

It was a mortifying talk and Dylan could only nod, going along with the charade until they were dismissed. He supposed all things considered, this was the best outcome that he could have hoped for, a plausible out from his secret relationship with Patrick being exposed.

Later, Dylan thanked Jessica who told him not to sweat it.

"We could always just carry on pretending you know," Jessica shrugged.

"Wait so we continue fake dating?" Tom was taken aback by the suggestion.

"I mean it'll give you guys some cover, you're not exactly subtle sometimes - I have spotted one or two hickeys under your collars," Jessica said, making both Dylan and Patrick avert their gaze as a blush rose to their cheeks. Maybe they shouldn't have been so surprised they'd almost been found out.

"But why would you do this for us?" Dylan asked. He hadn't ever considered having a beard for his sexuality, much less his boyfriend's sister being that beard.

"Well just consider it a good deed I guess. I mean I know it's a strange suggestion and I wasn't thinking that far ahead when I lied at the time but since the lie is already in place it kinda of makes sense for you guys to take advantage of it. Plus I'd hate to hear the screaming match if both mom or dad found out about you two, or the likelihood I'd suddenly be an only child when they kick you out from under the roof of this hellhole"

"I mean, I guess it would be handy," Patrick admitted slowly after giving it some thought, clearly still perturbed by the nature of the suggestion too.

Would it be worth it? The whole scenario laid out on the table bare seemed silly and slightly surreal to even consider it, like a bad movie plot device that had no possibility of working. But at the same time, it might just work.

Logistically, there was the matter of Dylan and Jessica putting on a joint performance to keep the lie intact. Publicizing the idea that they were a couple to the world, which despite being fabricated, stirred some uncomfortable and undefinable feelings in the couple. They might not have been out and proud, but there was nonetheless a quiet pride shared within their happy relationship. The involvement of a beard shrouding them in further secrecy felt somehow like a violation of this. Not to mention again that Jessica was Patrick's own sister.

Dylan and Patrick looked at one another, their eyes meeting as they both faced a push and pull while grappling with the complicated feelings surrounding this prospective arrangement.

However, in the end they both also remembered the vivid fear they felt when it looked like they were about to be found out, their blood running cold even now at the memory. Neither ever wanted to be in that situation ever again if they could help it. And neither of them wanted to lose the other. That thought alone reaffirmed their final decision.

"It wouldn't hurt to try I guess," Dylan said, though his voice betrayed several lingering doubts.

"Great... so when's our first date then?" Jessica grinned.