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Patrick never needed to be protected. He was a protector. Growing up, on the rare occasions when his dad traveled without the rest of the family, even as a small child he was always confident he could take care of his mother if need be. He helped neighbors, especially those who were elderly or just less physically able, with chores, raking leaves, shoveling snow, and salting sidewalks to prevent injury. As he grew up, he was the one who kept peace between his cousins, never letting minor spats spiral out of control so they could get physical, and talking to the parties involved so there weren’t any hurt feelings. His peacemaking tendencies extended to his friends as well, and sometimes to strangers. He was quick to step in and diffuse situations that seemed likely to get out of hand, like when someone had a problem with someone else simply because of what they looked like or who they were. When he was a teenager, he would walk friends to their homes or to their cars so they would be safe, a practice he continued in college. Once he had a car of his own, he gave rides to friends so they didn’t have to walk in the dark, or through less savory parts of the town in which his college was located. He also often volunteered to be the designated driver. His reputation as a good guy spread, and on more than one occasion, he was asked by a bartender or bouncer who recognized him to give a girl who was drunk or just alone or upset a ride home. Yes, he was usually with Rachel, but she never minded much. She’d known him her whole life, and she knew what she was getting when she began her relationship with him.
As a matter of fact, it was this protective streak that had resulted in their relationship happening in the first place. Rachel had been dating another boy, who, while not physically abusive, was verbally and emotionally abusive. After the second time he’d found her crying because of something her boyfriend had said, on the way home, he talked to her about it. About how she didn’t deserve that. About how she should be with someone who liked who she was and wouldn’t try to change her, someone who respected her, someone who would treat her well. By the time they reached her house, she was calm again. Patrick walked her to the door and hugged her, asking her to please remember what he’d said. She promised to try. Nearly a week later, a friend told him she’d broken up with her boyfriend. He’d been criticizing her, and she told him she didn’t have to put up with that and could find someone who wouldn’t treat her that way. Soon after that, she approached him after school. He was on his way to baseball practice, and she was about to go into French club, but she pulled him into a side hallway and asked him to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance the next week. She’d planned to go with her boyfriend, but since they’d broken up she didn’t have a date. He’d felt responsible for her predicament and agreed to go with her. They had a good time, enjoying each other’s company, and soon after he somehow found himself her boyfriend without ever intending to be. However, she was fun to be around and they got along well, so it seemed meant to be. His desire to shelter her led to him staying with her even when he knew something was wrong. Sometimes they would break up, but he always went back. He needed to protect her from anything that might harm her, including him; a vague feeling that something wasn’t right didn’t seem reason enough to hurt her.
Once he finally decided to leave her, leave his old life, telling her he was attracted to men, that he’d only recently figured it out, and that he’d never really been attracted to her, seemed it would only wound her more than living in ignorance, so he’d left without a word of explanation beyond, “I’m sorry, I can’t do this anymore.” It was the last thing he could do to protect her without committing himself to living a lie.
When he met David, even before they began their relationship, his desire to shield David from all the things that might distress, frighten, or hurt him in any way drove him to do everything he could to shelter David from the world. It began the day they met, when, after receiving David’s many voicemails, he filled out all David’s paperwork for him, saving David the frustration of repeating their initial meeting or filling the forms out himself, as Patrick had suggested. When they went into business together, he protected David from his scattered thoughts, stepping in to take care of forgotten tasks, even if they had been assigned to David. He took on the more difficult vendors and pricklier customers to spare David. Later, he stepped in to protect David’s feelings after his family forgot his birthday; the fact that he’d been trying to get up the courage to ask David out was merely serendipitous. As their relationship developed, and he learned how David had been hurt in the past, he saw red, vowing to never let anyone make him feel that way again. He acted as a buffer between David and his family, a cushion between David and everyone else. He also protected David from the natural world, having air conditioning installed in the cottage before their first summer there, making sure the heat worked and that there was a supply of wood for the fireplace in the fall and winter, warming or cooling the car for him before he came out for the drive to work, and, above all else, protecting David from moths and other bugs, not to mention all the other elements of nature which terrified him for reasons Patrick could never fathom. Patrick was still the same sweet, reliable, trustworthy guy he’d always been, the one who looked out for everyone else, but David was now his first priority.
Patrick didn’t need protecting. He was the protector. He knew this, and reflected on it as he woke up, finding himself in the same position he did almost every morning: the little spoon to David’s big spoon. Although David was only a couple of inches taller, it was just enough to allow him to curve around Patrick’s back, his groin tucked against Patrick’s ass, the front of his bent lower knee tucked against the back of Patrick’s, his foot tucked against the bottom of Patrick’s, while David’s upper leg was thrown over Patrick’s hip, his ankle curled around Patrick’s. Patrick’s head was, as always, cradled on David’s bottom arm, David’s wider shoulders bracketing his own, David’s top arm wrapped around Patrick’s body, his hand resting on Patrick’s chest, over his heart, holding him close. In the dim light of the early dawn, Patrick realized he’d never felt safer, more loved, or more protected than he did here, each morning, in his bed, surrounded by David’s solid, warm presence. No, Patrick didn’t need to be protected, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love the feeling.