What if you met Patrick Zweig on that crisp summer evening of 2011, crawling through the streets of Atlanta like a dead body, his stupid gray shirt wrinkled, curls messy and a pout on his adorable face. He has just fucked Tashi like his life is supposed to end tomorrow, like it's his last action on this Earth, and he's fucking miserable.
And you, a gorgeous, neat woman, very successful - a lawyer or a business woman - just about to leave the local bar after a night of celebration with you colleagues when he staggers in. It happens pretty quickly, and you're not even sure how exactly, but the younger guy's lips are soon on yours and he's desperately grasping onto your clothes as if you're gonna evaporate.
The way he fucks you that night is completely different to the way he fucked Tashi - tired, sloppy, almost childish - and you think he's crying too. You let him snuggle into the warmth of your chest, deciding to allow him to spend the night at your place. In the morning, he's surprised by waking up to the smell of bacon and eggs.
While munching onto the warm, proper breakfast and watching the outline of your body move smoothly under your silk robe, he tells you his name is Patrick, that he's 24 and a tennis player. A miserable one - you can see. He's sitting in your kitchen like a dirty mutt, almost begging to be taken care of. With his mouth full - he has no manners, you see - he calls you hot and sexy, failing to deliver a compliment that a woman like you would actually appreciate.
Later on, he lets you know that he really has nowhere to be, that if you want to, he can stay and make you feel even better than he did yesterday. And when you allow him to, quite aloof, you end up being the one making him feel good. It's comical, and Patrick feels like he's a goddamn toddler when you run him a bath and lend him some clothes after your ex-husband. Patrick stays at your place for a whole week.
The two of you exchange phone numbers, an action you assume is only symbolic, as Patrick has to travel to the other side of the States for a match, while you continue your meetings with clients and shine in the court room every so often. So it's obviously a surprise when your phone suddenly buzzes, a little Patrick - Aug 8th glowing on the screen. Apparently, he's currently in Nashville, offering to hop on an airplane and be at your place tomorrow morning. You don't refuse.
After his arrival, Patrick is still the same, giving you his signature and yet totally see-through smug attitude. He's dressed in that same fucking shirt, the slogan punching you like a laugh in your face. I TOLD YA.
The two of you fuck and fuck and fuck, Patrick spends the whole evening buried between your legs, his pink tongue gently swirling around your clit while you respond to some emails. Shortly after midnight, he falls asleep, nose buried between your slick folds. You wake him up with a handjob when the sun rises, listening to his sleepy whimpers and gentle curses, telling him that it's okay and he doesn't have to do anything, just enjoy it.
After that, and everything else, Patrick doesn't feel like leaving at all. The tender treatment he has been receiving from you is something unknown, something not even Art or Tashi could ever give him. He tells you about the two and cries a bit, and that exactly makes your heart swell.
So you propose an offer - a life-changing one - that he stays with you, that you will take care of him, treat him like he deserves to be treated and give him all the love he needs. All of that under one condition. He continues pursuing tennis.
Patrick agrees, obviously, he'd be a fool to walk away from you. And so within the next few weeks, he's completely moved to your place, has his own spot in your bed and on the sofa, has his toothbrush in the bathroom and gets to eat how much food he desires. The relationship between the two of you blossoms almost naturally, with you being a natural caregiver, and Patrick offering the satisfying element in response. It's a perfect coordination of two parties where nobody feel forced into something or neglected.
Glued to your side, Patrick eventually finds his spark again. Slowly but surely, Tashi and Art begin slipping into the very back of his mind - he never forgets, you don't force him to. You know the three of you can co-exist freely in his brain - and he's finally happy. Finally that Patrick Zweig that needed to be found again, and you are the person who helped him achieve all that.