Sakura
"Come," David says and tugs at Patrick's hand. His husband chuckles as he stumbles over New York's pavements after his very excited better half.
"The trees will be there, no matter if we get there in ten minutes or ten hours," he states matter-of-factly, and David rolls his eyes.
"Yes, but I need to kiss you at 11.13 sharp."
Patrick breathes a sigh and speeds up to keep up with his striding husband. They make it under the blossoming cherry trees of the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens just in time.
David is brimming with excitement, which erupts in flailing hands and bouncing knees. Patrick smiles at him warmly. Oh, how he loves this crazy, incredible man.
"So, will you kiss me now, or what?" Patrick asks, trying his best not to burst out in laughter.
"Not yet," David says, staring at the time on his phone. He worries his lip between his teeth, and Patrick wonders what could possibly be so special about this time.
"Why exactly do we have to wait? I wanna kiss my husband," Patrick asks, and he can't keep a small whine from seeping into his voice. David's lips should be red from kissing, not from being chewed—and the spring sun illuminates his face so beautifully in front of the sea of cherry blossoms...
"Just twenty more seconds, love."
David smiles at him with barely contained joy, his eyes shining, and Patrick wishes he didn't have to borrow other people's melodies and words to serenade him, that he were a painter or a photographer, who could catch the essence of this moment.
David's lips crash on Patrick's, and he needs to steady himself against the tide before he can press back and breathe David in like he's the only air he needs.
Because, despite his calm and straightforward nature, when it comes to the force that is his husband, Patrick is helpless, feather-light, a tiny cherry blossom in the wind. At least, in moments like this.
David's hands in his hair, his body pressed to his, they melt together in Patrick's mind. He doesn't know where he starts and David ends anymore. And so, it is no wonder that he's disoriented for a long moment once they emerge from the bubble they immersed themselves in for the last few seconds, minutes, maybe hours.
David smiles at him, fingers calm against the nape of his neck now, legs still and only his breathing uneven.
"Thank you," David whispers.
Patrick huffs a quiet laugh. "For what?"
David takes a deep breath, and there is the way-too-familiar clenching of his jaw and the sadness floating over his face. It's just a second before it disappears, but it makes Patrick's heart clench as painfully as it did the very first time he saw it all those years ago.
David wets his lips and looks down at Patrick's jumper, collecting his courage to bare his heart, as he has ever only dared with the man he married.
"I always wanted to kiss under the cherry blossoms," he confesses. "I often came here with our nanny. She had lived in Japan and told me all about the traditions during cherry blossom season. She had kissed her first boyfriend at a hanami party, and I always thought that sounded very romantic."
Patrick gives him a close-lipped smile. He knows that David's first kiss had been very different. "And was it romantic to kiss me here?" he asks softly.
Patrick shakes his head enthusiastically, tries to contain the emotions welling up in his eyes and threatening to spill from his lips. He pulls the sleeves of his jumper over his hands and presses one against his lips, a frown battling against the unwavering tears that want to break through his control.
"And why at 11.13?" Patrick asks.
David chuckles wetly. "Huh. That's… pooh!" He shakes his hands as if they’ve gone to sleep. Patrick watches him with tender amusement and all the patience in the world. David picks on Patrick's jumper, ignoring his husband's growing grin.
"Because today, five years ago…" He takes a deep breath. "...was the first time I thought, 'I really want to kiss this man'."
Patrick's lips fall open. "You still know that? That was weeks before your birthday."
David chuckles through closed lips. "It's Renée Zellweger's birthday."
"Right," Patrick says, drawing out the word. "And the time?"
David looks over to the sunbeams reflecting on the surface of the pond. "I dropped my phone, and the screen lit up." David's voice is barely above a whisper. "I just knew, at that moment, if I would… If we should ever have that, it would be special. And I got so scared, so…" he trails off.
He doesn't need to say more, because Patrick understands. All the pain of the past, all the worries that still gnaw on his husband from time to time. One day, Patrick hopes, all these fears will dissipate into nothingness. But until then, he will just hold and kiss David through it—under the lights of their shop, on the top of hills, and under cherry blossoms in a city that isn't home for David anymore.
"I love you," Patrick whispers and presses a kiss to David's temple. "Thank you."
David fists his hands into Patrick's jumper and leans their foreheads together. He nods, barely noticeable.
"So, what's next?" Patrick asks.
David closes his eyes and shakes his head. "A little bit longer," he whispers, and Patrick tightens his arms around him.
"As long as you need, David. As long as you need."

















