Chapter Text
David froze in the threshold after opening the front door to Roland and Jocelyn’s cabin. He’d made a terrible mistake. The Schitt’s aesthetics for their primary home could make someone’s eyes bleed. Someone with discerning taste, anyway. Why would their cabin be any different? Tchotchkes on every surface and wood paneling that should have been left in the seventies. A throw decorated with rows of black bears lay sprawled across the back of a fucking floral couch. His entire body shuddered. The entry area ran directly into the living room, dining room and open kitchen. That wasn’t wholly offensive. And, okay, the fireplace was nice. He shuffled over to it and began looking for the button to turn it on. Shit. It was a real fireplace.
Sliding his phone from his pocket, he launched his text convo with Stevie.
He snapped a photo and sent it to Stevie.
David looked over at the dining table and spotted the bottle of red. He stepped further in the small cabin and walked over to the table. There was a folded piece of paper in front of it with his name on it.
David,
Thanks again for working with my class on that art project. I hope you enjoy the weekend in our little love nest. Don’t worry, I washed the sheets and left some food in the fridge for you. There’s a fire pit out back and plenty of firewood for that and the fireplace. This wine is for you!
Love,
Jocelyn
Oh. That’s nice. David’s mouth pinched into a slight smile. Working with her class hadn’t been the most awful thing in the world. He wasn’t about to volunteer again, but getting a weekend away from his family to celebrate his birthday in peace wasn’t a bad exchange for a few hours with some annoying as hell high schoolers.
If he went back to the motel now, he’d just end up angry that his family forgot his birthday again. Sure, the cabin’s bed was beyond tainted, but Roland had mentioned more than once that he and Jocelyn had, um, soiled all the motel beds anyway. Ew.
If he stayed, he could pop a pill and cry himself to sleep without the threat of Alexis waking him up with her snoring or early morning run. He could even drink the wine and binge his favorite rom-coms without his sister talking through the movies like a fucking sociopath.
David grinned at his phone. Alright, time to unload Jocelyn’s car. Often annoying, but certainly generous for setting him up in her cabin and car for the weekend was generous. Probably more generous than the favor he’d given her to begin with. But he wasn’t about to kick a gift horse in the mouth.
Jesus. He’d been in Schitt’s Creek for too damn long if he was more charmed by Jocelyn than annoyed. Or, the odd characters in Schitt’s Creek had tumbled his hard edges enough to soften him into sea glass with fabulous skin and hair. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to take Jocelyn up on her offer to use her cabin had him mildly shooketh, but also pleased? Surely a sign of personal growth.
After David brought in his bags, he looked around the cabin. It was only early evening. He could pop a pill and start the crying over the aimless state of his life at present, start watching a Sandra or Julia movie, or wander around to orient himself. He studied the ominous woods behind the cabin through the relative safety of the sliding glass doors.
What the fuck was he thinking? Gallivanting off to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. He’d never spent a night alone in the woods. He’d gone from confident birthday guy looking for some R&R to the token queer who’d end up dead in a slasher film. Great. If someone tried breaking into the cabin to kill him, he’d need to know his escape routes. Sandra and Julia would have to wait. David needed to map out his surroundings during complete daylight. A safety exploration around the neighborhood.
Armed with car keys for a quick escape, his phone to call for help (assuming anyone could get out there in time), and a flashlight to defend himself, he walked up the road in the direction opposite he’d driven in from. Tall trees—he had no fucking clue what kind—framed each cabin to create a sense of privacy. The interior of the Schitt cabin was a train wreck that bordered on migraine-inducing, but the outside wasn’t almost lovely. Charmingly rustic.
David walked past a few similar cabins, then reached what looked like empty lots. Each lot had a small sign with Ray Butani’s smiling face on it. Of course they did.
A silver budget sedan was parked up ahead at one of the empty spots. Was that a tent? David continued walking toward the would-be serial killer or ally. At the very least, Ray probably wouldn’t like randoms camping on the land he was trying to unload. David should probably snap a photo of the license plate in case there was damage. He groaned. Was he seriously thinking about proactively protecting the property connected to Ray?! Yup. Schitt’s Creek had done a number on him. Stockholm Syndrome.
A man walked to the back of the sedan and popped the trunk. David hesitated as he took in the figure about ten meters ahead. Short brown hair, Broad shoulders, narrow hips, a curve to his ass. Jeans that accentuated all the right places and a navy blue short-sleeved Henley that highlighted his thick biceps and forearms. Yum. Yum. Yum. If he were to get murdered by anyone, well…
David picked up the pace. It would be remiss of him to turn down a little birthday eve eye candy.
The man closed his trunk, then turned toward him. He jerked back when he caught sight of David.
David’s breath hitched. Not only was his body delicious, but he was seriously cute in an outdoorsy sort of way. He took a few steps closer so he could get a better look at his features.
“Sorry. Hi. I wasn’t expecting to see anyone down here.”
David looked around them. Okay, yeah, that made sense. They were surrounded by empty lots and this guy was creeper camping. Who pops a tent up in an empty lot with no bathroom or shower around? Incorrect. “Do you make it a habit of pitching a tent on empty lots?” David’s gaze wandered down his body. Hopefully they were still far enough apart that he wouldn’t get caught.
The man leaned back against his car. He crossed his arms over his chest, and one leg crossed over the other shin. His smirk sparked an ember in David’s belly. Okay, so he probably saw David check him out. “It is a favorite weekend hobby of mine, yes.”
“Ah, so you’re a criminal.” David returned his smirk as he kept walking closer. Brown eyes. He loved brown eyes. His feet carried him even closer so he could determine the shade of brown.
The corners of the man’s mouth tugged back in an adorable closed-mouth smile. “Only on weekends.”
David shrugged. “As long as it’s not every day, I suppose that’s fine.”
His eyes were huge and expressive. They battled his smile for more expressive feature. He nearly advised the guy to let his hair grow out a little longer. David could spot the start of curls and damn would he look even hotter if they were more defined.
“Do you make it a habit of wandering rural streets in clothes off a runway? Or do you like getting designer clothes dirty?”
David stopped and looked down at his artfully torn skinny jeans, Neil Barrett sweater, and Rick Owens shoes. “Dirty?”
Smirking, the man gestured around them. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re in a forest. You’re bound to get dirty.” The way he said dirty was borderline, well, dirty.
David reluctantly pulled his attention from that smirk and noticed that he was literally dirty. A smudge along his cheek and dark spots on his shirt—with three buttons undone—and a tear at the collar. Almost like someone had taken a bite out of it. “I think I’m doing okay, but it looks like you just had a roll around in the dirt? What did nature do to piss you off?”
He laughed and rubbed his hand at the back of his neck. His face was angled toward the ground, but he looked up at David with those enormous eyes. “I had a minor disagreement with my tent.”
“Who won?” David bit the corner of his mouth.
He swept his hand toward the tent, which appeared to be standing on its own. “I did. Eventually.” David could catalog this guy’s smirks like an art collection. “I take it you’re not camping on empty lots. One of the cabins yours?” He jutted his chin toward the cabins David had walked by minutes before.
David shook his head. “Not mine. Well, I mean, I’m staying in one but I don’t own it. If I owned a cabin, it would be much bigger and near water. And a different kind of wood. Darker maybe? A front porch? Something more inviti—“ He cut himself off once he registered that this guy’s smirk had blossomed into a full grin. That grin settled in David’s chest. The ember in his belly grew into a tiny flame.
He pulled away from the car and closed the gap between him and David. “I’m Patrick.”
Eyes the color of dark honey. “David. Hi.”
“Hi.” Patrick’s hands were thick, but not as calloused as David would have expected given that he was someone who camped and got dirty. He probably knew how to build a fire.
“Are you just setting up camp or packing up?” David hoped his tone was casual with a passing friendly interest.
Patrick’s smile deepened for a moment. He looked shy but interested. “Just set up. I’m here for the weekend. You?”
Imagine that. David allowed himself to smile a bit and he was rewarded with Patrick’s eyes widening as he glanced at David’s mouth. His list of possible weekend activities hadn’t included meeting a cute outdoorsy guy who didn’t mind pissing in bushes. But maybe the universe decided to throw a present in his path after all. “Same. I just got here a half an hour ago and here until Sunday.”
Patrick nodded slowly as he grinned. “Bring any friends or…?”
David shook his head as he bit the corner of his mouth. “Solo getaway. You?”
“Same.” That grin again.
“It’s a good thing we met each other then. You know, in case one of us gets attacked by a serial killer. At least there will be someone else to talk to the police.” Did he seriously just bring up serial killers to this Boy Scout?
Patrick nodded solemnly. “That’s a good point. Though, I think we’re more likely to get attacked by a bear than a serial killer.”
David’s eyes widened as he gripped his flashlight. “You’re fucking kidding. Seriously?”
Patrick’s laugh smoothed over David skin and found its way into the cracks in his armor. “I think we’re safe. Though, you might want bear spray instead of that flashlight.”
David shifted his flashlight-wielding hand behind his back and glanced over at the small tent. “I know I am. I think a bear will have an easier time getting into your tent than my cabin.”
Patrick shrugged. “I don’t know. I think a bear would have an easier time unlocking a door than opening a zipper.”
David’s heart rate picked up. He’d met no one who immediately met his banter since Stevie. “That’s probably true, though, tent material is probably easier to claw through than glass or wood.”
Patrick’s brown eyes danced. “You got me there. If you hear me screaming, save yourself.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” David felt his cheeks tugging back into a rusty smile. And just like that, his birthday weekend was looking better already.
David licked his lips. “I don’t want to intrude on your Eat, Pray, Love tent getaway, but I was wondering if you’d be willing to help me get a fire going later. There’s a fire pit and a fireplace in the cabin. I thought it might be nice to sit outside.” He gestured to his clothes. “Obviously, I can’t do it. I could pay you in wine?” He arched an eyebrow.
Patrick rubbed his hand over his mouth like he was trying to hide a smile. The skin crinkle around his eyes gave him away. “You know, I was sitting here thinking that I have s’mores fixings but no fire. I think this is going to work out perfectly.”
David hadn’t flirted with anyone in ages. Though he felt rusty, the smiles he was getting from this guy spurred him on. For the love of God, please like men.
“S’mores?! The fact that you didn’t lead with that bounty is an astounding disappointment. You’re definitely coming over.”
Patrick laughed. “Be there in an hour? I have a few more things to set up while it’s daylight.”
“Perfect. Cabin B13.”
“See you soon.”
David turned to walk back to the cabin and did his best not to skip.
#
Patrick wished he were at a real campground so he would have actual bathroom facilities to freshen up before his fireside-hangout-that-could-be-a-date-but-probably-isn’t-a-date. He’d have to make due with washcloths and a jug of water. Until David had said something, Patrick hadn’t realized exactly how dirty he’d gotten when he had tripped over a rock while setting up his tent.
The most gorgeous man he’d ever laid eyes on strolled up in designer clothes and Patrick’s stood there in a torn shirt with dirt on his face. Super sexy. Ugh. Not that he was trying to look sexy on a weekend camping trip. And, anyway, David was star varsity and Patrick was a JV alternate.
Patrick stilled his hand as he wiped his face with a wet rag. But they were in the same league. He was sure of it. The breath left Patrick in a whoosh. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the milestone. He’d come a long way in the past month since leaving Rachel and his parents for a new life in Schitt’s Creek. A new life as a gay man.
He may not have gone on any dates or anything yet, but he was pretty confident in his new identity. The physical way he’d reacted to David’s teasing, smirks, and overall vibe, served as a pretty solid confirmation. Now he had plans to spend the evening with a man who had Patrick’s skin buzzing more than twenty minutes after David had walked away.
Patrick finished cleaning up from the privacy of his two-person tent. His available clean clothes were far from fashionable. A couple of T-shirts and another Henley. On the off chance he’d get to see David tomorrow—was he already thinking about seeing him a second time before hanging out the first time?!—he’d save the clean Henley. Patrick opted for a gray T-shirt and hoodie from his alma mater.
He glanced at his watch. Thirty minutes to go. He ate up the remaining time before he needed to start walking by setting up his sleeping mat and sleeping bag, re-arranging the food in his trunk, and mapping out his hiking route for the next morning.
Armed with the s’mores fixings from his trunk, he began walking toward the cabin. Crap. He could have spent that hour coming up with a game plan. Not having a plan made Patrick uncomfortable, and hanging out with a sexy and flirty man required a plan.
While walking, he focused on establishing a good/better/best goal for the evening. That familiar process loosened some of the tension in his shoulders.
Good: Fill his belly with wine and s’mores while enjoying the company of someone funny and intriguing.
Better: Continue the flirty banter they’d begun earlier to see if there was anything there. It would be nice to hone his skills in that area.
Best: Patrick felt his face heat. He knew what his dick was interested in, but he’d never even kissed a guy. One step at a time, Brewer.
He spotted cabin B13. A painted wooden sign that read “Schitt Family” hung from the bottom of the mailbox. It had a smaller version of the Schitt’s Creek town sign painted on it. Huh. Was David from Schitt’s Creek? He sure didn’t look like a local.
Patrick froze. Wait. David. David with the fancy clothes who stuck out like a sore thumb in their woodsy surroundings.
David Rose?
Whoa. Okay. Yeah, he was probably David Rose. That would make sense. He bit his bottom lip as he thought about the bits and pieces Ray had told him about the Roses.
He could ask David if he was David Rose or ignore it. His brain worked feverishly to quickly assess the possible outcomes of each option. He was naturally a strategic thinker in work, but he had yet to apply that skill to someone he was attracted to. He had been strategic about his steps with Rachel, as they moved toward marriage, but the attraction had been lacking. It felt more like a business deal.
Option one: Be honest with David and try to establish a solid connection. Maybe he could end up with his first friend in town, but then he’d risk David being standoffish by being forced into the path of someone in town when he was clearly trying to get away for the weekend.
Option two: Not mention it to David and possibly work toward a fun weekend of hanging out, but then what would happen when Patrick eventually told him he lived in Schitt’s Creek? Or if they ran into each other at some point? In a town that small, it was inevitable.
The front door opened. David leaned against the door frame and crossed one arm to grasp the other. One side of his mouth turned up to reveal a dimple. “Are you gonna knock or keep staring at the door?” Patrick got a whiff of cedar. He’d touched up his cologne. Definitely a good sign.
“I think I realized something and was debating whether or not I’d mention it.” Why was his mouth doing that? David’s dimple had the effects of a truth serum.
“Oh?” David hands dropped to his sides.
Patrick jerked his thumb toward the sign. “I couldn’t help but notice you’re staying in the Schitt Family cabin.”
David rolled his eyes. “I know. It’s ridiculous. That’s a small version of the town sign for—"
“Schitt’s Creek.” Patrick smiled. “I know.”
David’s eyes widened. Patrick swore he saw hope there. “You know it?”
Patrick looked down at his feet for a moment and smiled. “How about you crack open that wine and I’ll tell you how I know.” At the end of the day, Patrick preferred honesty anyway.
David stepped back and gestured for Patrick to enter. “I’ll grab the wine. I see you brought the precious cargo. It’s a good thing otherwise I wouldn’t have allowed you entrance.”
“I could tell how serious you were about the s’mores. It’s not a camping trip without them.” Patrick felt his lips strain against the tug of his mouth. David pulled smiles from him so easily. He closed and locked the door behind him (because serial killers and bears), and then dropped the s’mores stuff on the dining table as he looked around.
“Would we call this camping? I have plumbing.” He pinched the corner of his mouth together and his eyes danced. “Anyway, I’m always serious about food.” David poured wine that had already been corked.
“Noted.” He accepted the glass David handed him. “Cheers to making new friends in the forest.”
David clinked his glass, then took a drink. “Are we friends?” His dimples were pronounced as he quirked his lips to the side.
“That’s a good segue into how I know that sign. I, um, moved to Schitt’s Creek last month.” Patrick took a drink and watched the show unfold before him. David had the most expressive face he’d ever seen. In seconds, David expressed shock, surprise, confusion, excitement, wariness.
“You live in Schitt’s Creek?”
Patrick nodded. “I live with Ray, actually. He lets me camp on the empty lots when I need to get out of town.”
“That explains the creeper camping.”
Patrick laughed. “The what?”
David waved a hand as though he’d already moved on. “So do you know who I am?”
Patrick nodded again. “I put two-and-two together when I saw the sign a few minutes ago. I haven’t met many folks in Schitt’s Creek, but I’ve only heard of one David. I heard this David dressed nicely. And since you’re in the Schitt family’s cabin, well… ”
David’s smile grew. “Nice sleuthing, Sherlock. So, you think I dress nicely?” His shoulders wiggled in a sort of shimmy.
Patrick felt his own shoulders relax. David hadn’t kicked him out. Maybe they had a chance to at least be friends. “I do.” Patrick let his gaze travel over David. He lingered momentarily at his long legs and long fingers. He may have a shot to accomplish his better goal.
David’s dimples became more pronounced with his answering smile. “Shall we sit?” He turned and walked over to the couch.
Patrick looked between the other half of the couch and the armchair. He chose the couch. Another step toward that better goal.
Since they were already on the subject, he might as well just push it a bit further. “Does it bother you I live in the same town? I know you came here for a weekend away and probably wasn’t looking to meet someone you’d possibly run in to again.” Patrick glanced down at his wine for a moment as he built the courage to keep going. “But I have to admit I’m already happy about the prospect of running in to you at Cafe Tropical sometime.”
David smiled over the rim of his glass. “It doesn’t bother me at all. Life in Schitt’s Creek seems more interesting all of a sudden.”
Patrick allowed himself a mental high five.
Their conversation flowed as easily as the wine. Soon, the bottle was empty and Patrick’s stomach hurt from laughter. For how fashionable and aloof David seemed on the surface, he was surprisingly down to earth. And completely charming.
After a couple of glasses, Patrick excused himself to go to the bathroom. When he returned, he saw David on his phone. He put it down on the couch next to him as soon as Patrick returned. He liked having all of David’s attention.
“Think we can get going on that fire? I’ll visit the restroom, then grab more wine and dessert. Meet you out there?”
Patrick nodded and watched David walk down the hallways. Standing and stretching at the waist, his attention was grabbed by a flash of light on the couch.
Patrick hadn’t meant to look, or keep reading, but once he’d seen the eggplant emoji he couldn’t stop himself. His smile was huge. David had texted a friend about him? His mind raced at the prospect of staying the night with David. He wanted to. He really wanted to, but that felt so fast given how little they knew each other. Then again, waking him up with a birthday BJ sounded kind of amazing. His smile faded as he thought about what made David go away by himself to celebrate his birthday.
Patrick went through the sliding doors to the back porch. He busied himself by setting out two chairs by the fire pit and stacking firewood in it like his dad had taught him.
A few minutes later, the door slid open again and David walked through with their bounty. “You look quite proficient at that.” David nodded toward the fire where Patrick crouched to light some kindling.
“Lots of practice. My parents took me camping pretty regularly when I was a kid.”
“Aww. That’s cute.” David dropped the wine bottle and packages onto one of the chairs. He pulled his phone from his pocket and flashed a quick grin at the screen. Patrick bit his lower lip to bite back his own grin.
Maybe the best goal was in sight after all.