It was David who insisted on closing the store for a few days so they could drive down to Patrick’s childhood home and see his parents. When they FaceTimed with the Brewers to tell them they’d gotten engaged, they were elated. 

Mrs. Brewer had even said, “You boys have to come down and visit so we can all celebrate properly!”

So at the end of the Cabaret run and after the disastrous wedding venue situation, David stood firmly in front of Patrick with his hands on his shoulders and said, “Let’s close for a few days next week and go see your parents.”

So here they were, coasting down the highway toward Patrick’s hometown on a Friday, the store closed until Monday afternoon. Stevie was given a spare set of keys just in case there was an issue. 

“How much further?” 

David is antsy in the passenger seat, teetering on that fine line between anxious and excited. The entire time he’s been fidgeting with the music, changing his mind halfway through one song and skipping to the next. It earns a few eyerolls from his fiancé.

"A few more exits.” Patrick reaches a hand across the console to give his knee a squeeze. “You okay?”

“A little nervous,” David nods, but it comes out sounding more like a question.

Patrick gives him a quick questioning glance.

"I think it’s more the excitement at this point,” David continues, hands flying in little circles, “but I really just don’t want to mess anything up.” 

Patrick lets out a sigh. “You’re not going to mess anything up.”

He makes a face. “You have too much faith in me.”

“You’re not going to mess anything up,” Patrick repeats. His hand slides a little further up David’s thigh. “My parents love you--“

“They’ve met me in person once.” 

“Yes. And they loved you! I think more than me, actually.” It makes David laugh a little. “But we talk to them all the time, and you and my mom have been texting each other a bunch.”

David shrinks a bit in his seat. “Yeah, we do. How’d you know that?”

Patrick just smiles and says, “She told me about it after you insisted on sending her something from the store.”

“Which I paid for.”

“Yes, I know.” 

David tucks his lips into a crooked smile and turns his attention back to the radio. 

“Half hour,” Patrick says, so David turns on some Fiona Apple and stares at the scenery rushing past. 

Out of nowhere, he snaps his head up and says, “We’re not walking into a whole big thing with your entire family waiting to greet us, are we?”

“No,” Patrick’s sincere, “my parents have sworn up and down that they wouldn’t spring that on us. They don't want to scare you away just yet." 

Okay, then. Good. He didn’t have to up the charm. He knew Patrick’s parents already, he didn’t need to be too different from his normal self. All David had to do was tone down the dramatics and be as much of himself as he could be. He didn’t have to win the Brewers over, but maybe he should charm them just a little bit, too. Should they have brought something besides the wine he insisted on or-

“David?”

“Huh?”

“We’re here.” 

They had pulled in the driveway without David even realizing. He blinks at the sight before him, this house, this landmark, really, brings a warmth into his chest. David is smiling at how absolutely beautiful and unexpected it is.

Because for one, Patrick’s childhood home is not blue. It’s white.

He loves it. It’s a slight two-story ranch house painted with a faded white-painted brick on part of the exterior. There's a wrap-around porch that David can already see himself sitting on with a cup of tea, cozied up in a blanket with Patrick as his parents exchange childhood stories. There’s a basketball hoop hanging above the garage, and David can almost see tween Patrick playing in the driveway for hours against his dad.

The front lawn, save for a scrap of bluebells by the mailbox, is immaculate. He makes a mental note to compliment Mrs. Brewer since Patrick had mentioned she loves gardening and takes pride in her curb appeal. David’s also seen her Pinterest board. 

“What do you think?” Patrick asks as he undoes his seatbelt. 

David smiles widely over at him. “It’s very you.”

“Is it now?” 

“It is! It’s homey, it’s welcoming. It’s nothing like where I grew up.” 

There’s a shift in the air despite David’s joking tone and Patrick can clearly sense it. His smile falters and there’s a flash of sympathy in his eyes as he places a hand on the back of David’s neck to pull him in for a kiss. 

David squeezes his eyes shut when they pull apart just to steady himself for a minute. When he opens them, Patrick gives him a curt nod. 

“Ready?’