Kelly spent most of the next day at his boyfriend's side. They cooked breakfast together, then made out a little on the sofa before reluctantly getting dressed to run errands. Casey even drove him to therapy, where it was his week for a one-on-one session with Beth.
He was thankful to have an opportunity to privately decompress from the past two days, but once he got in front of the therapist, he found himself unable to get to the point. She probed a little into the reason for his somber mood, but respectfully backed off when his walls went up.
They spent most of the session talking about his progress in defusing from the harmful beliefs he had about himself, particularly that he was doomed to become a carbon copy of his father and that he wasn't wired for long-term commitment. It was still hard work, but less raw than talking about the events of the past few days.
When he returned to the truck an hour later, Casey greeted him with a glazed blueberry donut and a cup of coffee.
"Thank you, angel," Kelly said happily.
"How was it?" the blonde asked as he turned the ignition.
Kelly took a large bite of his donut, giving himself a moment to think.
"It was good," he said after chewing and swallowing. He decided not to explicitly mention to Casey that he hadn't talked about the possibility of arson. It would definitely come up during their couple's session next week, so Casey's inevitable judgment could wait until then.
He licked glaze from his fingertips before continuing. "We talked some more about what I'm going to do when I notice that my thoughts and beliefs aren't serving my values and goals. Good stuff."
Casey opened the glove box, revealing a neat stack of takeout napkins. Kelly ignored this, continuing to lick his fingers with a satisfied smirk.
"For example, I value not wasting any of this donut my boyfriend bought for me, so I'm going to politely ignore his passive aggressive suggestion to wipe the best part of it on a napkin."
Casey chuckled. "Fair enough. This is definitely better than the week she told you to be more sarcastic."
"Sarcasm is a valid and healthy way to signal to my brain that I don't need it to do the thing it's doing," Kelly said smugly.
"I don't think she intended for you to practice it on my brain."
Kelly shrugged. "I don't think she meant for you to spank me when you got tired of seeing my clothes all over the apartment, either, but we have to adapt what we learn in therapy to our specific situation." He smiled to himself at the memory.
Casey furrowed his brow in an adorably frustrated way as he drove. "Beth is creating a goddamn self-aware monster."
Kelly smacked his lips, finishing the late bite of his donut.
"Lucky for you. Now – what's for lunch?"
That evening, Matt decided to go to Molly's. He'd only been a few times since he stopped drinking, mostly for birthdays and other special occasions.
He'd told everyone he was no longer drinking, and the only comment was Herrmann's earnest "good for you, buddy." But he still felt self-conscious walking around a bar with a club soda in his hand, and the shame itself made him long for a drink.
There was no way in hell he'd ever relapse at Molly's now that all his friends knew he was in recovery. He couldn't exactly walk up to Dawson and order a cocktail. But he worried about launching into a spiral that would end behind the dumpster outside a convenience store. He'd been there before, and he didn't want to go back.
"You can text me if you want me to get you home right away," Severide reminded him as they approached the door. "Or you can do this."
Matt watched with embarrassed horror as his boyfriend raised both hands above his head, dramatically shaking his wrists to make as much of a scene as possible.
Severide dropped his arms to open the door. "You do that – I'll come whisk you away."
Matt shook his head, laughing. "Great. Like everyone needs another reason to think I've lost my mind."
At the bar, Matt accepted his club soda from Dawson and turned to look for a table that wasn't close to anyone too annoying.
"Coke on the rocks," he heard Severide order.
He raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend as they took their seats. "You know I don't mind if you drink. You already live in a dry home."
If he'd ever questioned Kelly Severide's love for him, his decision to rid their apartment of alcohol would have erased all doubt. The man loved his scotch – just not as much as he loved Matthew Casey.
Lucky me.
Severide shrugged casually, raising his glass to clink them together. "Solidarity, brother."
Matt grinned, taking a sip of his drink.
"You two come here to drink soda by yourselves now?" Capp teased, inviting himself to sit next to Severide.
The Squad Lieutenant narrowed his eyes. "Aww, what's the matter, Capp? Your mom watching Jeopardy with her boyfriend tonight?"
The bald man smirked. "I'm just saying – you work with him, you live with him, and you drink soda at a bar with him. You guys must really have it bad for each other."
Failing to hide his own blush, Matt admired Severide's well-practiced glare.
"I think you better remember who you're talking to before you find yourself calling in for your assignment in the floater pool tomorrow. Speaking of which – you report for shift in less than twelve hours. Might wanna lay off the liquor. Someone's gonna have to scrub the shitter on chili night."
Smug superiority suited Severide, even more so when he was being hypocritical. The brazenness was a major turn-on. Matt averted his eyes before anyone had a chance to see his lust.
Capp stood and backed away, holding out his hands.
"Sorry, Lieutenants," he apologized, sounding at least half sincere.
Matt nodded, smirking, pretending it was all a joke.
Severide slowly rose from his chair, leaning threateningly towards the larger man. Without another word, Capp finished his whiskey and hurriedly left the bar.
Matt chuckled. "You're a bastard."
Severide grinned widely as he retook his seat. Shaking his head, he took a drink of his coke.
"I know you're all Lieutenant Touchy Feely, but I prefer for my men to be scared enough to not make comments like that to my face."
Matt frowned at the nickname. "I am not 'Lieutenant Touchy Feely.'"
Severide looked up to meet Dawson's eye as she approached their table.
"That's not what you were saying last night."
That comeback doesn't even make sense, Matt silently complained, greeting Dawson with a smile.
They all carefully avoided talk of arson, Matt having warned Dawson off the subject before they arrived. She and Severide talked briefly about a change to Shay's therapy schedule, then Severide got pulled into a raucous argument about the rules of paper football with Otis, Mouch, and Cruz.
Matt sat alone with his carbonated water for a few minutes, contentedly observing his friends. Their laughter was contagious, and it was especially nice to hear his boyfriend's belly laugh.
After a while, he did text Severide. He carefully watched the man's expression, smirking at the change as he opened the message and processed the words. His eyes only widened in shock for a moment before he masked his reaction, but it was long enough for Matt.
Severide beat him to the exit, impatiently holding the door open while Matt put on his coat.
"Shut the door before you let all the heat out!" Herrmann scolded.
"The hot stuff is already leaving," Severide muttered in Matt's ear as they left.
"Did you even tell them you were going?" Matt laughed, following his boyfriend to the car.
"Nope," Severide said with a grin. "It was an emergency. I've gotta get you home before you change your mind."
Matt smiled fondly. "So you're interested in my suggestion?"
His boyfriend nodded over the roof of the car, taking Matt's hand once they got inside and shut the doors.
"I've only been dropping hints all day," Severide cheekily observed.
Matt rolled his eyes. "Beth would tell you to communicate directly about your needs."
Severide shrugged. "Sometimes – being a brat is just more fun."
