Title: Accepting Help

Pairing: Kent/Chandler

Rating: PG-13

Author: Claddagh

Summary: Joe gets some help with the encouragement of Kent

Disclaimer: Not mine…or are they? No. Really. They're not!

Note: takes place after the Kray's and Kent and Joe have been in a relationship for a while now.

I really wanted to do a more 'intimate scene with this fic, but I seem to be a bit of a wimp with this pairing and sex scenes. I've written many before with other pairings, but I find it really difficult with this one. I promise you there will be an R/Nc-17 rated scene in my next fic (the continuation of 'Too attached'). But for now I present this humble offering!

Joe and Kent sat in the waiting room of the GP, side by side, shifting uncomfortably on the hard plastic chairs. The younger of the two glancing around with only half interest at the posters on the walls and the other people sitting opposite and around them.

Joe however sat with his hands clasped tightly in his lap, mentally counting the number of seconds that passed on the white clock hanging on the wall across from him, counting them systematically and keeping track by muttering under his breath. Occasionally his eyes fixed on the other inhabitants of the waiting room; There was an elderly man in the chair opposite who coughed violently every few minutes (causing Joe to visibly flinch each time). There was also a few chairs to their left a blonde woman, probably in her early thirties who was reading a magazine and watching her young daughter out of the corner of her eye, who busied herself by playing loudly with the large box of polychromatic toys that sat in the corner of the room.

With a grimace of his lips Joe silently observed the off-white colour of the walls and the gray carpet that covered the floor. It was probably meant to be calming or soothing for patients, but it just reminded him of the mortuary at the police station. He glanced nervously at the row of 3 doors to their right that held the three GP's that were on duty at that moment. It was quite early In the morning at 8:45am and both Kent and Joe were dressed in their work suits, the latter wearing a Navy blue suit, white shirt and a navy and white tie. While the young man had preferred a dark, almost black suit with a light blue shirt that was actually Chandler's, borrowed without objection, despite it being slightly too big for Kent's slight frame.

Joe flinched as another loud hacking cough cut through the near silence, the thought of all of those germs in the air making him scowl. This place was for people who were sick, he wasn't sick, he was just…different.

He slowly rubbed his hands together anxiously, flicking his tongue out to wet his dry lips, still counting the passing seconds on the clock. 154, 155, 156, 157...

With a slight intake of breath Joe turned his head to look at Kent next to him, when he felt a gentle pressure as the young man reached over and squeezed his hands reassuringly. Kent looked up at Joe for a second and gave a soft smile before he looked away again and removed his hand from Joe's.

The DI couldn't help but miss the contact. It was comforting and familiar, but Kent knew all too well that even after having been in a relationship for three months now, Joe still wasn't comfortable with overt displays of public affection, or any type of public affection actually. So despite Kent's ease with his own sexuality, he adhered to Joe's wishes and only made their relationship obvious when alone or with the people that they both trusted. It didn't mean Joe didn't miss the feel of physical contact with the younger man when in public, quite the opposite, as before he'd met Kent he'd always kept a safe distance from any person he interacted with. The extent of the physical contact he had was a friendly handshake or a slap on the shoulder. But none of that ever compared to even a brush of Kent's skin on his, no other person's touch had Joe wanted, no other person's touch could he bear for longer than a few seconds. Even though he hadn't wanted Kent to let go of his hand, he couldn't bring himself to reach over and initiate the contact himself when in public.

That left too many windows open for things to go wrong. For people to judge. He didn't usually care what people thought, but they wouldn't just be judging him, they'd be judging Kent as well. That would be unbearable for Joe.

"Joseph Chandler?"

Both men looked up at that, to see a middle aged woman standing outside the furthest door, her dark brown hair starting to show signs of grey and dressed in a blue jumper and black trousers with the stereotypical stethoscope hanging around her neck. Joe stood up, followed quickly by Kent. The older man looked at the doctor for a few seconds, noticing her kind expression but not putting him at ease in any way.

He took a deep breath before, turning back to the young man, slowly shaking his head.

"I can't do this Kent."

The DC looked up at Joe, a slight crease between his eyebrows, he opened his mouth then shut it, not sure how to reply. He leaned to one side slightly so he could see the doctor, giving her an apologetic and slightly pleading look.

She nodded her head in understanding, silently retreating back into her office, leaving the door conveniently half open. Kent turned back to Joe before answering in a whisper, not wanting to discuss Joe's business too loudly in front of the other people in the waiting room.

"What do you mean? Why not."

"She'll think I'm crazy." Joe forced out, not quite meeting Kent's eyes.

Kent glanced around, noting that the elderly man's eyes were indeed focused on them, watching with slight suspicion, before stepping closer to Joe, reaching out and placing one hand on the lapel of his suit jacket, gently running the fine material between his fingers.

"No she won't Joe. She's a doctor."

Chandler continued to look doubtful and unconvinced.

"I promise you that she's won't think you're crazy."

"I don't need any help." he replied briefly.

Kent lowers his voice even further. "Joe, you and I both know that since they Kray's its gotten worse, hasn't it?"

Joe sighed, then nodded.

"And I hate seeing you struggling with it. I'd be blind not to notice. You can't leave a room without flicking the light switch more than once." Chandler lowered his head, ashamed at how obvious his OCD symptoms have become. "I'm not forcing you to do this Joe, no one could force you into anything, but…she can help, maybe make your life a little bit easier." Kent tilted his head, waiting for a reply.

Joe considered this for a moment, his gaze staying fixed on the area somewhere around the younger man's shoes.

After a minute he finally met Kent's eyes, his jaw set and his shoulders square.

"Ok."

The resulting smile on Kent's face was quick, but genuine and relieved. He was just thankful that Chandler was getting professional help.

"Do you want me to stay out here?"

The older man answered immediately, without even thinking about it.

"No, come in. Please."

Kent nodded, before moving his hand from Joe's lapel to slide around the back of his arm, gently prompting him to turn around, which he did, admittedly slightly tentatively, but his steps towards the still half open door were sure and confident. The young man followed behind, in step and sync with Joe, one hand still placed comfortingly on the small of the taller man's back, letting him know that he was there, but not crowding Joe, who obviously was finding this experience difficult.

As the two men walked into the GP's office Kent couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at Joe's bravery. He'd always been ashamed to a certain extent about his OCD, but Kent had eventually convinced him to ask for help, something that Joe didn't find easy to do.

Chandler let out a loud sigh as the two men came out of the doctors office, compressing the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, already feeling the stirrings of a headache behind his eyes and mental fatigue in his body.

When they entered the waiting room they found it empty, the elderly man and the mother and child having obviously been called in by the other GP's.

They walked out of the surgery and towards the car, quickly getting in.

Kent settled back in the passengers seat and watched sympathetically as Joe closed his eyes once again, leaning forward on the steering wheel. Both were comfortable with the silence, not needing to speak.

Now that they were alone Kent didn't hesitate in reaching over, laying his hand on the back of Joe's exposed neck, slowly rubbing the tips of his fingers in small circles, feeling the tension pooling just underneath the warm skin. The DC closed his eyes momentarily when his thumb found Joe's pulse, just under his jaw line, slightly elevated, but strong and bounding underneath Kent's touch. After only a few seconds one of Joe's own hands released the steering wheel and gripped Kent's fingers, halting them in their gentle caresses.

He lifted his head and brought the young man's finger's to his lips, causing the DC to again curl his lips upwards. Joe looked up at Kent.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"It may not have been pleasant, but, I think you're right. I needed help and I don't think I would've had the courage to get it if it weren't for you. So thank you." Joe explained, squeezing the others hand even tighter.

"You don't need to thank me." Kent chuckled, turning his body in the seat so he was facing Joe, before leaning forward and embracing the older man, wrapping his arms around Joe's back and resting his chin on the juncture between his shoulder and neck. He felt one of Joe's hands thread through the hair on the back of his head, holding him close.

Kent could feel Joe's warm breath on his neck and could smell the older man's deodorant and aftershave that he'd ended up borrowing more than once.

During the GP appointment Chandler had explained all of his symptoms to the Doctor, while she'd interjected occasionally with questions asking him to elaborate on something he'd mentioned. Kent had just sat there next to Joe, staying quiet, but giving an encouraging smile every time the older man looked to him when the questions from the doctor became increasingly personal. There was no doubt that Joe had OCD, both himself and the DI knew that, but medical science procedures required that preliminary questions and tests were done to confirm a diagnosis. They had been asked to come back for further assessments next week, then some sort of treatment could be devised if the diagnosis was indeed OCD (which both of them knew it would be). But the Doctor had given Joe some simple coping strategies to try in the week between appointments, to see if they made anything easier.

Both men simultaneously pulled away from the embrace, Joe gently pulling on some of the curls at the back of Kent's head, loving the feel of them on his skin.

"It'll get easier Joe. I know it." The young DC whispered.

He nodded. "Yeah." He glanced out the back window of the car at the doctors surgery. "I just want to be able to wake up in the morning and not feel this…need for everything to be a certain way. I don't want to be constantly obsessing about little insignificant things like the light switch and the positioning of items on my desk when there are so much more important issues."

"That's why we came here." Kent said softly. "To get help. You're not on your own. You don't have to deal with it by yourself."

Joe gave the first genuine smile of the day, before looking Kent directly in the eyes. "I know. Thank you." Glancing at the clock he quickly started the engine and put the car in reverse.

"Don't worry, Miles and Mansell knew we wouldn't be in until near 10 o'clock today. I told them." Kent reassured the other man, pulling on his seatbelt.

"That may be, but we still don't want to be too late. That's not very professional is it DC Kent?" Joe answered, a slight tint of humour in his voice. Kent chuckled, fully aware that Joe was taking the piss out of himself.

"Not at all Sir." He replied, as Joe reversed out of the parking space and drove out of the car park, their destination, Whitechapel police station.