My Smile's An Open Wound Without You

After only getting lost once, I arrived at his apartment. I walked up the stairs and stood outside his door. I knocked three times and waited. I heard muffled running to the door followed by a crash and then lots of cursing and mumbling. The door was yanked open to reveal a bent over Patrick clutching his knee. He looked up at me and smiled sheepishly.

“Hey.” He said, nonchalantly.

“Hi.” I said. He held the door open and limped aside to let me in.

“Thanks.” I said.

“So…” He started.

“So…” I answered. We stood in silence for a few minutes.

“So…” He said again.

“Yep.” I answered. We stood in silence again. Patrick put his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. Silence. I racked my brain for anything that could slice the awkward tension between us.

“Can I have a drink please?” I finally asked. It was lame but at least it was something.

“Yeah sure, of course. Sorry I should’ve offered shouldn’t I?” He blushed slightly.

“No, no it’s fine.”

I followed him through to the kitchen. His apartment was definitely bigger than mine. The living area alone was as big as my whole apartment. There were two doors leading off this room. One lead to a bathroom and the other a kitchen. There was also a corridor with four doors leading off it. His room, the guest room, a bathroom and a closet.
In the kitchen he made a pot of coffee. Whilst he was making it, I jumped up onto the island counter that was in the middle of the kitchen. Patrick got out two mugs, still with his back to me, and dropped one onto the floor. He took a few steps back to pick up all the pieces. His back was leaning against the island whilst he was crouching on the floor. He didn’t know I was sitting on the counter. He stood up again and turned around.
Now, the counter’s quite high, or, Patrick’s small, it doesn’t matter which, but when Patrick turned around his front was pressed against my legs and his face was, well, to put it plainly, facing my breasts. He stopped in his tracks but didn’t move away. He seemed to be in shock because I could hear him stammering, trying to say something. We stayed like this for a few minutes before he eventually looked up at my face. His face was flushed a very deep red and was clearly embarrassed. When he looked up, and I looked down, my face very near his.

“I am so sorry.” He gushed. “I honestly didn’t know you sitting there, and I did-“

I silenced him by pressing my lips to his gently. He kissed back instantly and deepened the kiss. He placed his hands on my hips and slid me closer to him. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. He picked me up off the counter and put one of his arms under my bum to support my weight properly, the other arm went around my waist. He then pushed my back against the kitchen wall and we continued to make out furiously.
He carried me into his bedroom slowly and I kicked the door shut behind him. He started over towards the bed. He gently set me down on the mattress and kissed my lips once. He then put his hands to the bottom of my tee-shirt and pulled it up over my head and reconnected our lips. He pushed me back onto the bed gently. I wrapped my arms around him and before I knew it, we were tangled in the sheets, sweaty, naked and asleep. I was facing him with my head in his chest and my arms tight around him. His arms were strongly wrapped around me in a protective way. We slept for hours, until the next day, the day they leave for tour. While we were sleeping, we didn’t hear anyone enter the apartment, or come down the corridor, or open the bedroom door.
No we didn’t hear Pete, Joe and Andy, but they sure saw us.