[AN: so i wrote kevin/keith, how did that happen. i'll tell you. it's because kirby did. she started it. anyway, this is very boring and full of repitition.]

'It's a pretty big place you got 'ere, then.'

Kevin trails slowly after Keith, craning his neck to get a good look at the couch and the stereo and the window. There's not much else to look at in the room. It's pretty tiny, actually, like Kevin's bedroom but a bit bigger than his bedroom actually and this isn't a bedroom so it's not like he can properly compare. Smaller than Kevin's living room but then it's not his living room, is it, it's his mum's, but this is Keith's living room. It's all Keith's. 'It's like, really nice, isn't it.'

'Yeah!' Keith turns with a grin, glancing over the same three items of notice that Kevin had. 'I mean, it's not bad considering the severity of the fascist regime.'

'Mick hates it is well,' Kevin murmurs as he follows through into the thin hallway. 'He says he wouldn't even give Mrs Thatcher a shag if she wound up on his doorstep.' Keith points out the bathroom and Kevin grants enough designated interest with a widening of his eyes. 'I told him we don't have a doorstep. Just a mat that kind of tells you when to expect the door so's you don't run into it.'

'This is my bedroom. Got a bed, got a wardrobe, got a bucket there for if I'm feeling a bit crook sometimes, but I mostly turn it upside down to set my glass of water on.'

'Oh.'

Kevin fits his hand to Keith's elbow as he tries to look past him, peering around the small room. It's maybe the same size after all, but then Kevin's looks smaller 'cause it's got a desk and Keith doesn't have a desk. Probably because he's got nothing important to do, like investigating, he just plays his guitar all day and sings about stuff that Kevin helped him investigate. He wouldn't have a clue if it wasn't for Kevin, not really.

'You like it, then?' Keith asks, tilting his head sideways. Kevin nods.

'It's great, yeah, I'm not disputing that. Where am I gonna sleep, though? See, you've only got one bed. Don't know why you'd have more than one if it's just you. Or even if it wasn't just you, you'd still only have one bed 'cause the other bed would belong to the other person, wouldn't it.'

'We'll have to go head to foot.'

'But then I'll smell your feet.'

'Then we'll have to go foot to foot, won't we.'

Kevin shuffles around Keith so he can scrutinise the bed at a closer angle, trying to add some measurements to it. He'd spent a week studying a ruler against other things once, just so he could call on it later and measure in a hurry, 'cause you never know when you're gonna have to measure something really fast.

'But then our faces will be all close together so's we might accidentally kiss.'

Keith laughs, dragging Kevin in by the lapel and kissing his mouth shortly. Dragging's the appropriate word 'cause it really yanks at his collar but Keith's hand soothes it when it settles on the back of his neck. It's only there for a second because Keith's going back to the living room for another look. Maybe a proper one out the window, or he could have had some records stacked by the stereo. Kevin wasn't in investigating mode so he didn't concentrate too hard. Not like he concentrates on how warm his neck feels. It's a bit nice, this contact stuff.