#by.patch

Patch wasn't sure what one was supposed to wear to lose their virginity to a stranger he'd met online. For about an hour he'd been standing in front of the mirror wall in his bathroom, trying on silk robes and more casual outfits, even at one point putting on his tennis gear and staring at himself for several moments. But then he'd tossed that outfit aside, as well, frowning as he'd gone back into his walk-in closet for the umpteenth time to rifle through rows of hangers.

Eventually he texted his sister, wondering if she had any better ideas than he did. Her only ideas came from books, suggesting lace and satin and silk. Which were things he had, sure, but not things he'd planned on needing tonight. He thought about asking Rosita, but she always seemed short-tempered towards him, and he was tired of annoying her. So instead he went back into the closet to seek out whatever lace and satin things he could find.

He settled on a poofy-sleeved satin shirt and silky black pants. He left the shirt unbuttoned a bit, and when he looked in the mirror he couldn't help but think he looked like one of the smooth-tongued vampires from the movies and shows he'd always secretly enjoyed. It felt weird, but he didn't think he looked bad, so it would do. Besides, Phoebe had said the books told her this was the way.

Kicking all of his discarded clothes back into his closet, he shut the door and didn't think twice about the maid who was going to have to clean it up the next day. All he could think about was Ivy, the attractive man who had matched with him on a silly little dating app. There had been a few others, but their messages had come in sort of hot, scaring Patch off for the time being. He hoped to return to them after tonight, if it went well and he found he enjoyed himself.

Barefoot, he padded out of the master bedroom and down the hall, nearly flying down the flight of stairs though he had no way of knowing if Ivy was nearby. He was anxious, and restless, pacing the kitchen a bit with his thumbnail between his teeth as he waited for the bell to ring.

Patch was normally pretty quiet, keeping to himself. Even at the parties he threw, he smiled and stayed in one or two spots, nursing a beer and looking around to see that everyone was having a good time. But he hadn't thrown a party in a few weeks, which was very unlike him. He hadn't done much of anything in a few weeks, actually. Not even started some new silly business venture. He'd just been at home. Ordering in, watching movies, keeping to himself.

He was grateful for Hiro, who seemed to be a friend. Patch wasn't always sure, never sure who was a friend and who wasn't, questioning it more than ever these days. When the other arrived at his home, he opened the door and held out the hanger with the elegant silk robe on it that matched the one he was wearing himself, though in black instead of the rich maroon color of his own. "I've been doing a lot of research on self-care lately, and comfort was a big part of it. These are for maximum comfort," he explained, waiting for Hiro to take the robe before leading him further into his home.

"I've also got facemasks and wine and cheese," he added, voice echoing in the high-ceilinged entryway. Patch led him into the kitchen, gesturing to the wine glasses and the bottle of wine, the cheese tray his cook had so artfully set up for them. It was all very nice and probably a bit ridiculous, but Patch was nothing if not thorough in his quest to make himself feel good again.