Patrick lay quietly, breathing slowly, deeply. Drugged by sex. Which was fucking awesome. Sex really was awesome. Having sex was fantastic. Thinking about the sex they had just had was amazing. Thinking about having more sex very soon was delicious. People should really have more sex and spend more time thinking about sex, Patrick decided sleepily. Those endorphins were just the absolute fucking best. Why they didn't to this all day Saturday?

Rather than talking. Not that talking was bad, but they had skipped all the honeymoon phase and waded into the darkest water possible. Sex wasn't a panacea, but it was important and it reminded them of an important part of them. That connection. That chemistry. And everything seemed easier to talk about after sex.

Not that he had any intention of doing any talking. He didn't want to bring anything back up again. He hadn't even been sure if Kevin would take him back yesterday, and he certainly didn't know what to expect when he got here, but he was determined to start off by setting the right tone. Kevin had implied that it was Patrick that pulled the strings, set the course, so...Patrick was going to believe him and take that responsibility seriously.

In all the scenarios he'd imagined for today, all the ways he'd thought of coaxing Kevin into a place of closeness and trust, he'd overlooked the fact that Kevin apparently found him irresistible and that he himself was a horny fuck, so as soon as one of them got that gleam in their eyes, it was pretty much game over.

Thank god for versatility. Was there really a time when he'd thought he didn't like getting fucked in the ass? Thank god those days were over. Patrick loved getting fucked, loved feeling Kevin sliding inside him, hitting that p-spot, filling him. And when that sensation was enhanced by having Kevin sliding his hands all over his own cock, stroking him, teasing him...well, it was fucking fantastic. Fantastic fucking. Patrick grinned against Kevin's chest.

Still, he'd been determined to reclaim his fantasy after Kevin had taken it over, and Kevin was so happy to oblige.

And though he was loving his new-found versatility, being inside Kevin was still up there as one of his very favorite ways to spend his time. It hadn't taken long to find exactly the right angle to push inside to drive Kevin insane and have him begging and pleading for release. Not that he really wanted it of course. Kevin wanted it prolonged. He always did. Patrick could tell because he would never reach for himself until he felt Patrick getting close to his own release. So even though he would gasp for Patrick to go faster, would groan for him to push in harder and deeper...he always kept his hands on Patrick or on the bed, or on the wall, or today, on the window, until he could tell Patrick was almost there, and THEN he would somehow time it perfectly so they came together. Pretty much every fucking time. Now THAT was skill. Of course Patrick only ever really appreciated that after the fact, because during the sex itself, the only thing he was concentrating on was the incredible tight heat of Kevin's perfect body. Was that selfish of him? Getting fucked he was always a lot more aware of Kevin's every move, every sigh...every drop of sweat, every clenching finger on his body or every kiss or bite on his skin. But when he was doing the fucking, when he was driving, his mind was too flooded with the sensations all around his cock and his own need to fill his senses with the scents and tastes and sounds the body he was pounding into offered him. Yeah. He was definitely a selfish prick. Thank god Kevin seemed to get off on that. Maybe he liked feeling someone was taking him for granted occasionally. Must make a nice change from always being in charge, always being the boss, always being deferred to...

Whatever. They'd each had two fricking awesome orgasms and that was not a bad start to the day.

And after the orgasms? Lying naked in bed, sprawled on top of Kevin in his familiar spot, his head fitting perfectly in that little curve between Kevin's collar bone and his neck, the smell of Kevin's fresh sex-sweat in his nose, Kevin's hand lazily stroking his head...fucking perfection. He could lie here all day, not speaking, barely conscious...

'I miss your hair.' Kevin broke the silence.

Post-orgasmic fog-brained Patrick really liked Kevin's sexy accent. Maybe he could get him to say some more of those ridiculously stupid words and phrases he seemed to think everyone should know. Like 'dual carriageway'. What the fuck was that again?

Kevin gently swatted his head. Oh yeah. He said something about hair. His hair. Missing his hair.

'I like it like this.' Patrick mumbled into Kevin's chest, resenting the effort it took to form words. 'It makes me look...edgy.'

'I didn't say I didn't like it. But you had beautiful hair and I miss it.'

Patrick smiled. Kevin sounded a little grumpy. He should probably rouse himself to placate his boyfriend. Picking his head up just enough to smatter little kisses across Kevin's yummy chest, he assured Kevin his hair would grow back. It grew so fucking quickly.

Kevin pulled Patrick's head up and looked him in the eyes.

'And I can't say I love the fact that every time I look at it I remember that it was Richie who had his hands all over your head yesterday morning.' Kevin said meaningfully. Then he sighed and ran his palm down the side of Patrick's face. 'But that's one of those ...'discussions'... for later, I guess.'

Patrick showed his appreciation for Kevin's forbearance, turning his head and kissing Kevin's palm tenderly. He dropped his head back down and squeezed himself back into Kevin's side. Time to change the subject.

'Do you think anyone could see us against the window earlier?' He mused. 'I know I should be embarrassed but I actually think it's kind of hot that people might have seen us. It was sooooo much better than my fantasy.'

'You are such a fucking mystery, Patrick Murray.' Kevin laughed, and Patrick breathed a sigh of relief. Not yet. No more crises yet. There was time enough for those. But not. Fucking. Yet. He'd be damned if he was going to let Kevin lie here and dwell on all the things that had gone wrong in the past forty eight hours. They could lie here and talk about sex, or they could get up and be productive, but they were not going to lie here and try to resolve anything today. It was still too raw. It needed at least one more day before he felt he could even begin to reasonably parse any of their 'conversations' and begin to make sense of them.

He stretched up to kiss Kevin's laughing mouth.

'Come on.' He whispered against Kevin's lips. 'We have to get working on those FUCKING boxes.'

Kevin groaned, and not in the 'ohmigodimgoingtocomeandiloveyou' way but more in the 'mylifeishellandyouretoblame' way.

'Can't we stay here for a little bit? Let's just take a nap.' Kevin pulled Patrick close to him, his arms tightening, his mouth doing a strange lip-quivering thing. Was he actually trying to pull of a charming pout? God, it was pathetic. And so not working.

Patrick pulled free from Kevin's grip and sat up.

'Nope.' He patted Kevin's abdomen, and then looked at his hand which was now covered in a rather sticky mixture of sweat and cum. Charming. 'Shower first,' he pointed meaningfully at both of their messy bodies, 'then I have to find my clothes because I've been wearing the same ones since yesterday morning, then we have unpacking, and errands,' Patrick continued...and since he'd already started he might as well tell Kevin the rest of the good news... 'and I want to get the place a little tidied up because Agustin said he wants to stop by after his shift at the shelter because he has a gift for our new place.'

And yes, he was definitely avoiding Kevin's eyes at this point. He'd been wondering how to work Agustin's scheduled visit into the conversation, and they still had plenty of hours to go, but it seemed like it was probably best to get it out there in the open sooner rather than later. Let Kevin work off any issues he may have about it before Agustin showed up. Because Agustin was definitely showing up. It had almost been a condition of Patrick's 'release'. Dom and Agustin were adamant that one of them was going to check in with them today and see how things were going. Who they were most worried about was anyone's guess, but they felt they had done more damage than good by staying out of the 'Patrick and Kevin story' to this point, and that their interference was now strictly warranted. Patrick had given in pretty quickly because, frankly, he wasn't sure they were wrong. Having friends who knew you and loved you have a window into your situation wasn't the worst thing. And it gave their day a focal point. A 'before' and an 'after'. And it might even motivate them to get out of bed and deal with the fucking boxes.

But Kevin had been quiet a bit too long. Patrick finally looked at him, trying to keep his expression bland and cheerful.

Kevin raised his eyebrows at Patrick, and Patrick blushed.

'Reinforcements?' Kevin asked simply.

Patrick snorted.

'Yeah right. For you, maybe.'

Kevin seemed confused. Hadn't Patrick told him about his friends' not-so-unique perspective and experiences with open and experimental relationships? Maybe that conversation hadn't happened yet. They'd been too busy fucking. and talking about themselves, and playing games, and watching TV and fucking, and fighting, and building apps...

'What's that supposed to mean?' Kevin interrupted Patrick's inner monologue.

'Nothing.' Patrick shook his head, smiling. 'Come on, lazy. Get up.'

'Are you saying Agustin...wait...I can't even begin to imagine a world where your friends actually LIKE me.' Kevin did that whole pretending-to-be-shocked act that he was so bad at. English people weren't good at even FAKING strong emotions.

'What do you mean?' Patrick laughed despite himself. 'You guys got on great when you were staying with us. You were always laughing together, usually at ME.' He reminded Kevin pointedly. 'Why would you think he doesn't like you?'

'I don't know...because...of the way we...started?' Kevin shrugged, and as easily as they were laughing minutes ago, now they were back to that weird tension of things they weren't supposed to say or talk about yet. 'Or because of Saturday night?' Kevin continued quietly. 'I'm sure you told him about it.'

Patrick thought for a moment that it might be easier to try and laugh this off, but they couldn't completely pretend nothing at all had happened. They might not be ready to deal with it, but that didn't mean they shouldn't acknowledge it. And frankly, the truth in this situation would probably be more reassuring to Kevin than he could imagine.

'I did actually.' Patrick admitted simply, and saw Kevin wince. Silly man. 'But you might be surprised to know that you and Agustin and even Dom are much more alike than you realize.' Patrick laughed wryly. 'They also always think I am naive and idealistic and a silly romantic...'

'Patrick, I DON'T think that...'

'No it's OK.' Patrick smiled at Kevin. They were NOT going there. 'I'm just saying, they're not judgy or prudish...they really just want me to be happy, and after yesterday when I talked to them...well...they know that...you...that being WITH you...makes me happy.' Patrick tried to explain. And it sounded clumsy, and it sounded a little silly, and Patrick himself was a little bemused to hear it said so simply, but it was the truth.

And Kevin seemed to like hearing that, if his rather smug, broad smile was anything to go by.

'I like that answer. That is a good fucking answer. Come back to bed.' Kevin sat up and tried to reach for Patrick. But Patrick was too quick.

'Kevin, we have WORK to do.' He insisted firmly. He was up, he was sticky, he wanted fresh clothes, and they had a shit-load of boxes to unpack. Not that he wasn't open to persuasion if Kevin wanted to push the issue a little further...

Kevin collapsed back on the bed.

'There must be someone in America I can pay to just come and empty all these FUCKING BOXES!'

Ahhhh. There was his adorable little capitalist. The American Dream was explicitly created for Kevin to realize. He so loved throwing money at his problems. Cleaning ladies, laundry deliveries, Ubers, fancy realtors, bribes to building maintenance...Sure, sometimes it was a good solution. But not this time.

'No fucking way!' Patrick enunciated clearly. 'I want us to choose what goes where, and to fight about whose stuff goes on the walls, and whose books go on bookshelves. That's what making a home is.'

'Great.' Kevin mumbled, staring up at the ceiling. 'More things to fight about.'

'Why so negative Kevin Matheson?' Patrick asked sweetly, enjoying the sight of a fully naked, and if he wasn't mistaken, partially aroused Kevin, sprawled on the bed, looking a little miserable.

Patrick watched, fascinated, as a slow smile spread across Kevin's face, and he turned his head to look at Patrick

'I've got a better idea.'

'No more sex now.' Patrick shut him down. 'I told you.'

Kevin snorted.

'Right...as if I couldn't get you on your back begging for it in two minutes flat.'

'Hey!' Patrick protested. A little too much maybe?

'No, I mean why don't we finish that little game you started last night, and whoever is the winner gets to make all the choices today?'

Patrick stared at Kevin. What the fuck was he talking about? Patrick had thought he wanted to have more sex, which he was going to pretend to fight about for just a minute longer before he gave in graciously, but Kevin was talking about...his fricking game? Patrick's game?

'The game?' Patrick needed to make sure he'd understood. 'The points game?'

'Yep.'

'Are you serious?' Patrick persisted. 'You want to play the points game?'

'Yes.' Kevin nodded, hauling himself up to a seating position. 'I already started it. Get my laptop and I'll show you.'

Patrick waited for a few moments. Staring at Kevin

'Are you insane?'

Kevin shrugged seemingly unconcerned at Patrick's growing wonder.

'You know I love games.' He said, apparently by way of explanation. 'And as you said, we both love to win, so let's see who wins, right?'

'Oh my god.' Patrick groaned. 'You are...SUCH...a geek.'

'Just get the laptop, would you?'

Patrick moved to the table in the corner to snag the laptop, shaking his head. He stared at Kevin's happy, smug, grin as he handed it to him, and sat back on the bed, cautiously.

'I don't get it.' Patrick said as he watched Kevin log in and get the stupid thing running. 'How can you start the game, when it's MY game, and you don't even know the point system?'

Kevin didn't even look up at him as he tapped away. '10 for the torpedo, 5 for the wedding. I just took those as the reference points.' he replied, fully in computer programming mode.

'But...it's my game.' Patrick blurted out, almost on the verge of being genuinely frustrated. Almost. But mostly just secretly, pathetically charmed by Kevin's inability to let a challenge go. 'You don't even know the rules!' he whined, just for effect.

'I think I caught on pretty quick, Patrick.' Kevin bristled, as if his manhood had been questioned. 'Anyway, that's why I'm the boss. You have an idea, and I get to take the credit, right?'

Kevin turned the laptop towards Patrick, showing him a brightly colored, fucking elaborate spreadsheet. 'You're the red column, and I'm the blue.'

Patrick stared back at Kevin's expectant face. Moments later he just had to ask.

'Are we seriously doing this? Did I move in with a teenager?'

Kevin smiled condescendingly, knowingly. 'If you're scared you're going to lose...'

'Fuck.' Patrick finally let himself laugh. Apparently this was really going to happen. He'd created a monster and now Kevin had tamed it and made it his bitch. There was nothing to do but play, and hope to god he actually could muster enough points to make even a slightly decent showing. 'Let's do this.' He shrugged.

Naked, sitting on the bed, arguing about the different weighting that should be given to words versus actions, to intent versus effect, the next hour passed by in a blur, and when it was finally, unanimously agreed upon that Kevin was in fact the supreme and most worthy winner, the first order Kevin got to give was one that Patrick could totally get behind. With some negotiation. He wasn't going to blow Kevin with dried condom-tasting cum all over his dick, but if the order could be carried out in the shower, Patrick was ready to obey. Kevin was gracious enough to agree, and then was apparently appreciative enough of the dedication and effort Patrick put into his forfeit that he returned the favor.

One very satisfying orgasm later for each of them, they were finally ready to start working on the boxes. Kevin's only stipulation, as winner of course, was that Patrick had to be naked. Patrick cursed the day he thought of the stupid fucking game. Until Kevin pulled him down on the floor of the still-empty living room and fucked him again.

And then, as they lay there, panting heavily, sweaty and covered in cum again, they both agreed that Patrick's game was absolutely the best thing he'd ever thought of and he was amazingly smart and clever. And Kevin told him he loved him. Which won him more fucking points!