AN: Again, I don't own Whitechapel etc. etc.

Joe had been working late and had stopped to pick up some groceries on his way home. Kent had already gone home a couple of hours earlier, having taken his Vespa to work that morning. Joe couldn't wait to get home and start cooking; he was starving and also, he loved cooking with Kent, even if he did manage to make a mess a lot of the time. But he just looked so cute with a blob of pasta sauce on his cheek that Joe didn't mind having to clean up a little more than usual.

Joe fumbled to put his key in the door, his arms full of bags of shopping, the plastic handles cutting into his palms. Eventually he managed to open the door, and as he was putting the bags down in the kitchen he was about to announce his arrival to Kent when he heard the soft strumming of a guitar. He paused, and tried to decipher where the sound was coming from.

He quietly slipped down the hallway and stopped just before the doorway of their bedroom. He hoped that the sound was what he thought it was; it would be very disappointing if it was just the radio or a CD. Very slowly, he peeped his head around the doorframe, smiling in relief when he saw that Kent was sat on the bed with his back to him. Joe watched in awe as Kent's fingers moved with practiced expertise over the strings, creating beautiful sounds that floated across the room to reach Joe's ears.

Joe was very glad that he was finally getting to hear Kent play. He'd been begging ever since he'd spotted the instrument among the pile of bags and boxes that Kent had brought when he'd moved in, but Kent had always refused; he was too shy to play in front of Joe.

Joe didn't know he long he stood there, listening to Kent play, but it seemed much too soon that Kent put his guitar down and turned around, gasping in surprise before blushing beetroot red with embarrassment as he saw Joe leaning against the doorframe. "H-how long have you been stood there?" Kent stuttered. "Long enough Emerson, I thought you said you didn't want to play for me because you weren't very good?" Joe smiled. "I'm not, I mean-" Kent started, but Joe interrupted him. "Well that was a lie, because what I just heard was amazing". Kent face turned an even deeper shade of red and he stared at the floor, too shy and embarrassed at Joe's praise to meet the man's eyes. "You should take more pride in your talent Emerson, at least play for me occasionally, please?" Joe smiled at Kent, who replied with a simple "Okay".