Patrick watched Kevin warily, trying to find something encouraging in the growing piles of food he was chopping and cutting on the kitchen counter. Did salad really count as a meal? Sure, they couldn't eat out all the time and they were both sick to death of pizza, but...salad? Did Kevin realize that salad was only ever an appetizer or a side dish? Was this an English thing? Even Agustin, the putative vegetarian of the bunch, drew a line at just having raw leaves for an entire meal. Sure, he seemed to be adding other things like tomatoes and onions and cucumbers...but it looked really awful.

Patrick sighed. Kevin looked up at him sharply and narrowed his eyes. Patrick sighed again. And maybe batted his eyelashes? Kevin went back to chopping. This was going to be the world's most precisely cut salad. Patrick thought back fondly to the day Kevin cooked him that outrageous yet delicious breakfast of sausages, fried tomatoes, eggs...

It was his own fault though. He had made some comment that they really should eventually use the kitchen for something other than fucking against the counter and getting drinks from the fridge, and Kevin had decided that tonight, on this second evening in their new home, he was going to prepare a meal for his beloved. And since all he seemed to know how to prepare were greasy breakfast foods or meticulously designed salads, Patrick was shit out of luck.

Maybe just using the kitchen for sex and drinks wasn't such a bad idea. They'd had some really good sex in kitchens. Patrick smiled as he remembered Kevin pushing him onto the little kitchen table in his old apartment and fucking his brains out. Good times. That had been really hot. A little rough, Kevin barely taking the time to prepare him before he pushed in, so hard, so deep...a little tender, Kevin still making sure he wasn't hurting his injured arm, even as he held Patrick down and fucked him relentlessly... a little scary, as he had felt the table wobble and rock under Kevin's pounding...and very very hot. Patrick had come so hard he had almost passed out and only Kevin's collapsed weight on top of him kept him from just staying there, bent over the table, and falling asleep.

They would need a sturdier table for this apartment. But still narrow enough so that he could grip both it's sides. Maybe one that was small enough to get comfortably fucked against but that could also expand to accommodate dinner guests?

Ugh. Patrick shuddered. Furniture shopping was going to be a challenge. They had VERY different tastes, if all those posters were anything to go by. He had to get Kevin to take that poster down somehow, and definitely NOT put any of those other weird soccer ones up. Though now that damn Field of Dreams piece of crap was more than just a poster. Apparently it was a 'symbol' and, worse, it was something Kevin was finding amusing teasing Patrick about. He kept suggesting that they watch the movie together, as if somehow, gaining an appreciation for an 80s piece of maudlin crap was going to make him want a movie poster on his wall. There were going to be some real battles ahead, but Patrick had already decided in his head that if he lost any of those decorating battles, he was going to use the excuse of Kevin being British to all his friends. The British weren't really known for their style, right? Well, not since the 60s anyway. Bad food, bad teeth, rain and sarcasm.

And talking of bad food...Patrick watched the preparation of the salad glumly.

'Oy.' Kevin threw a cherry tomato at the pouting Patrick.

'What?' Patrick protested, scrambling to catch the tomato before it fell to the floor, shocked out of his little reverie.

'Have you been listening to anything I've been saying?'

Patrick stared at Kevin thoughtfully, and then smiled brightly.

'Sure?'

Kevin rolled his eyes, and then continued talking about something which Patrick was apparently supposed to have been listening to for the past fifteen minutes, while he sat at the counter watching Kevin prepare their 'meal'.

Finally tuning in, Patrick realized that Kevin must have been keeping us some sort of running commentary throughout, which was so unusual that Patrick hadn't even noticed it happening. It seemed as though cooking brought out loquacious Kevin. Good to know.

The current topic was work. More specifically, their project deadlines, upcoming presentations, deadly boring budget stuff he was dreading...etcetera etcetera. Shit. Work. Patrick had almost forgotten that they were going back to work. Tomorrow.

While Kevin talked about the annoying demands management was making and the unrealistic deadline expectations they were imposing, all typical bullshit that he had to push back against project after project, Patrick thought about his own little world. Things hadn't been so great at work since they'd 'come out'. Nothing overtly hostile had been said and certainly no one had been rude...but there was a general sense of things not being quite the same.

Of course there was Meredith's comments about heterosexuals being discriminated against. It had been a long time since he had to think about homophobia having an impact on his life, especially since he'd deliberately chosen San Fransisco to avoid any of that. And he'd wanted them to be out as a couple but now, as he sat chatting with people he always considered friends as well as colleagues, he couldn't help wondering if people were imagining Kevin and him having sex. That whole 'imagining that dick in your ass' thing that he'd struggled with for years with his parents. It made him cringe. Though if he were to be honest with himself he wouldn't mind so much if people were imagining he was topping Kevin, which would give Agustin hours of fodder for his sex-positive lectures if he ever told him. Which he obviously wouldn't.

And even if people weren't imagining them having weird gay butt sex, there was definitely that whole 'fucking the boss thing' that seem to have freaked Owen out. That situation was really messed up, and he really should do something about it. But...what? He couldn't tell Owen that they'd had to keep it a secret because of Jon, because then the whole affair would come out and that would be even more of a shitstorm. So somehow he had to find a way to thaw Owen's coldness and get them back to the way they were before. He missed Owen. And the fact that Owen was upset that his friend was sleeping with his boss made Patrick feel...uncomfortable.

He'd never thought about the fact that he was fucking the boss. It was always just Kevin he was fucking. Not the team leader. The MDG hot shot. Though of course the fact that Kevin was smart and powerful and well respected and talented was a huge turn on. But he hadn't done it to advance his career. Those thoughts had been furthest from his mind. If anything, this whole thing may have harmed his prospects as HR couldn't possibly look on the whole thing too fondly. But...he didn't give a shit. He loved Kevin's aggressiveness, loved the aura of success that surrounded him, but it wasn't as important to him. He never really could be the type of manager that Kevin was. He didn't have that whole 'confidence' thing that drew people to Kevin like moths to flames. He was a natural born leader. Patrick...wasn't. He loved video games, loved designing them, loved coding them and one day hoped to be a team leader. But not management. That wasn't him.

Oh shit. Kevin was talking about shopping now. He'd moved on from the topic of work, and was now listing all the things they needed to do to get this place ready. All the shops they had to go to to find the furniture and household items they needed. How they would fit it in with work. And unpacking. Always still so much unpacking to do. Kevin was pointing to boxes with his chef's knife and cataloguing all the crap still left to do. Kevin was regretting that they hadn't got more done today, but that was bullshit. They'd needed a break. And it had been Kevin's idea anyway!

'Do we have to do more unpacking after breakfast? Can we just go to the movies or something? Or even a museum or just anything but please, no more boxes...please please please.' Kevin had begged at brunch this morning, and Patrick wan't inclined to deny him. He also knew that they'd probably need more of a break after the conversation Patrick was going to have with him over brunch.

'Ok' he'd laughed at the pleading Kevin. And then, his laughter dying out, he'd broached the subject he'd been dreading since the text he'd received the night before. The text from Richie. 'But...first...I wanted to talk to you about something, and...I'm not sure you're going to like it.'

'Fuck.'

'You wondered why I wanted to come out for breakfast, and the reason is I don't want to have another fight in our home.' Patrick had said tentatively, not looking Kevin in the eyes, rolling a piece of artisanal bread between his fingers.

'Jesus, Patrick.'

'I don't want there to be more memories of fighting and arguing than there are good ones, and yesterday was a fucking great day and so I decided that if you're going to get mad at me, I don't want it happening at home.' Patrick rushed in, finally looking up at Kevin and moving his hand to grab Kevin's. Was it more to reassure him, or to make sure Kevin didn't storm out? Maybe a little of both. 'That place already has too many ghosts...I don't even know if I will ever be able to go in the parking lot or basement again, but at least for today, home is the place we go to AFTER we get mad. Ok?'

There was a long silent pause.

'Patrick, do you hate that place now? I know it's got some bad memories...'

'No, I don't hate it.' Patrick stated, squeezing Kevin's hand, twining their fingers. 'I can't say I totally love it yet, but, when it's more our home, and we've lived in it and we've been happy, then...it'll be different.'

Another silence as Kevin looked at him intently.

'You want to move?'

'Are you kidding me?' Patrick gasped. 'Pack up and unpack again? After the work we've done?' and then...more gently... 'Kevin. I'd live anywhere with you. I just want to be with YOU.'

This time the silence was accompanied by a smiling Kevin.

'You really are hitting it out of the ballpark with your answers these days, Patrick Murray.'

'Well, I decided to control my stupid mouth and try to use it only for good.' Patrick laughed.

'I love your mouth.' Kevin replied, very very seriously.

'Really?'

'It's a very talented mouth.' Kevin insisted.

'Thank you.' Patrick said primly. 'I think so too.'

'I like what you did with it this morning.'

Patrick looked at Kevin, suddenly wary of the gleam in his eyes.

'Yeah. I got that.'

'You haven't done that before.' Kevin continued, smiling broadly now.

'Jesus...'

He should have known it was too good to be true that Kevin wouldn't bring up this morning's activities at some point when they were out in public. He delighted in embarrassing Patrick, and what better way than to remind him of the fact that Patrick had woken up with an insatiable desire to taste Kevin. Everywhere. In detail. With intense concentration and a focused dedication. And Kevin had lost his fucking mind. Patrick was indeed talented it would seem, if Kevin's moans and grunts were anything to go by. He had begged Patrick to keep going, begged him not to stop, had hardened in seconds as Patrick had rimmed him, slowly at first and then with more greed and passion as Kevin's responses fed his own horniness. He'd intended his first experience with rimming to just be a precursor to fucking Kevin into the mattress, but it was so fucking hot, so unexpectedly powerful that he'd only just managed to give his own poor neglected dick a few strokes before he'd come all over the mattress.

'Are you blushing, Patrick Murray?' Kevin asked, grinning at him, not letting him pull his hand away so he could pretend to eat his breakfast and ignore Kevin.

'My stupid face...' Patrick mumbled.

'Don't say that! I love that face.'

'Are you trying to distract me?' Patrick frowned.

'Is it working?'

'As a matter of fact...it almost is.'

Kevin was very good at distracting him with sex. And his aim was perfectly obvious.

'Good.' Kevin stated. 'Because I think we should have a few more days of fucking peace and tranquility and avoid any of those topics on your list. I don't want to talk about them today. Please!'

'Firstly, it's OUR list, not mine,' Patrick protested, 'and secondly, I don't want to spoil today either, and I promise this is the absolutely smallest thing on the list, but...we have to talk about it now because...something happened...last night.'

Kevin put down his fork and leaned back staring at Patrick.

'How the fuck could something have happened last night? We haven't been apart since yesterday morning!'

'You see?' Patrick said perkily. 'It's not such a big deal. It's just that...I got a text...from Richie. But I didn't answer it yet, and you can check my phone' Patrick held out his phone to Kevin, who just shook his head.

'I'm not going to check your phone, Patrick.'

Patrick watched him silently, trying to gauge the level of tension Kevin was feeling. Fuck it. He just had to ask.

'Ok. Are you...mad?'

'Huh...' Kevin breathed heavily. 'I don't know what I feel.'

Well, that was honest.

'Right. Do you...want to know what he said?' Patrick pushed tentatively.

'Do I?'

So Patrick made a decision. It was nicer to think of fucking and rimming, and it was more fun to plan a day at the movies...but they also had to talk about some of this shit. Not all of it, not now, but they couldn't put off everything that came up that took them back to the horror of the weekend. And in this case, he wanted Kevin's input. Surely they could have a discussion.

'All he said was "are you ok? call if you want to talk". That's all he said.' Patrick reassured Kevin, 'But I've got to say something back and I just wanted to...you know...discuss it...first.'

'Right. Discuss.' Kevin seemed to deflate at that word. Yeah. Discussing things hadn't gone well a few days ago. But they were different now. They had to be able to do this Patrick thought. 'Well...I suppose I would open this 'discussion' by asking if you want to talk to him?' Kevin continued after a significant pause.

'Today, or ever?' Patrick asked simply.

Kevin sat back in his chair, pulling his hand away from Patrick's. Oh boy.

'Let's start with today.'

'No.' Patrick stated. 'I don't want to talk to him today. I have nothing to say to him today, except maybe 'thanks for the haircut. Kevin doesn't really like it. I'm Ok''

Kevin tried to smile.

'But ever?' Patrick continued. 'Yeah, I guess I do want talk to him at some point. Not about us, but just...about stuff.' Patrick almost gave up as he saw Kevin's mouth flatten and then watched him start to chew his lip. But he couldn't stop. It wouldn't help in the long run. 'He's a really good guy.' Patrick persisted, more gently. 'And we do care about each other. And I could pretend it's like me and Dom, who hooked up in the past and are now just best friends. But I won't. It's different. I know it is. But it's not...romantic, either. Even if we were both free I don't think we'd ever make it as a couple.'

Kevin looked relieved, and Patrick almost stopped there, but he knew he had to get the rest out. They needed to be honest and open, if they were to survive, however difficult that might be. 'But I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't think about it when you were with Jon. Because I did. When I thought you wouldn't leave Jon, I did wish I could have Richie back because I thought it would make me hurt less.'

Kevin looked down at his plate and nodded his head, avoiding Patrick's eyes.

'Ok. I see.'

Did he really see? Patrick wasn't convinced.

'This isn't about making a choice between you and Richie. It hasn't been a real 'choice' since...you know...that night, in the office.' Patrick said softly. 'You are the man I want to spend my life with, and he is...a...friend who I really care about.'

Kevin looked up, obviously hurting.

'Why did you go and see him on Sunday? Why did you need to see Richie rather than anyone else, the very day after?'

Patrick remained silent for a moment, his turn to start chewing his lip. He rubbed his hands on his thighs, as if that would help him find the words that would explain but not hurt Kevin even more. Then taking a deep breath...

'Because I felt shitty.' He admitted quietly. 'I felt... sordid, and I was confused and I knew that if we were going to be together it was going to be complicated and it was going to be difficult and I wanted to be with someone who just...isn't.' Jesus. Saying it out loud was very difficult. It sounded like such a condemnation of Kevin, when it really wasn't. It was a condemnation of them both. 'He isn't like you, and he isn't like me. He wouldn't cheat. He wouldn't lie. That's the truth.'

'Jesus.'

'It's like I was looking for the eye of the hurricane, you know?' Patrick pressed on. 'A little oasis of peace before I had to get back and face the mess we'd made.' Patrick reached again to take Kevin's hand, to soften the blows.

'Because I knew that however shitty and dirty I was feeling about all the cheating and lying, however scared of how complicated it was going to get, and even though I couldn't...and still sometimes can't...begin to figure out how we get to where we both want to be? Even though I was feeling all of that? I knew that I was coming back to you, and that there was no way I wasn't going to try and make it work with you.' Patrick clutched at Kevin's fingers, who in turn held onto Patrick's hand so tightly Patrick knew he would feel it for days to come.

'So, I just wanted to be, for a few minutes...the 'version' of me that I sometimes thought Richie saw. The simple, straightforward farm boy, who had 'bottom shame' and had never taken a boy home to meet his mother. The person I was before life got so fucking complicated. Because of you!' He finished weakly, overcome with emotion and trying to keep it together in the diner.

Patrick kissed Kevin's knuckles, looking at him intently. Kevin eventually gave him a weak smile.

'I'm sorry I asked you to leave' he whispered, his eyes clouding.

'Don't be sorry.' Patrick shook his head. 'It fucking hurt, but you were right. I betrayed you. I betrayed me too, even though I didn't see it like that then, and I didn't mean it like that.'

'I didn't mean to make you feel dirty and shitty. You were right, it was me who put you in that position and it was me who...' Kevin couldn't seem to let that go. The fact that Patrick had felt like that, that he'd made Patrick feel like that. Okay, but they had to get past that. Patrick was finally ready to take responsibility for his own part in the whole thing and Kevin wasn't letting him.

'No...no, no. Stop. Now.' Patrick insisted. 'We're not having the 'who said what and who meant what' conversation today. Ok? But just to be clear, no one ever made me do anything. So, if I did something shitty, like cheat on Richie, then it's ok for me to feel shitty about it.'

'I don't like you feeling shitty.' Kevin said quietly.

Patrick sighed.

'That's sweet, but you'll have to learn to live with it.' He said somewhat glumly. 'You know I'm one of those people that says and does stupid things and I can't keep avoiding the consequences! You should have seen how shitty I felt the morning after my Halloween speech. I thought I'd have to leave the country.'

Kevin chuckled mirthlessly. Another great memory for the two of them.

'That was a fucking awful night. I don't think I'd ever felt so sad in my whole life before.' Kevin shook his head.

'What DID you feel?' Patrick looked at Kevin intently, realizing that he'd never had the chance to understand what happened that night, after that crazy, intense few words they'd exchanged on the stoop, before Jon had interrupted them.

'Jesus.' Kevin rolled his eyes, trying to bring some levity to the conversation. 'You suddenly love talking about this stuff. Feelings and shit. But you still find it hard to say 'I love you'. You are such a mystery.'

Patrick refused to be sidetracked, a fact which Kevin realized after a few moments of silent staring.

'Ok.' He sighed heavily. And then, as if the words were being torn out of him, he began to speak. 'I felt I hated Jon in that moment, when he showed up on those stairs. I felt trapped by him when all I wanted to do was grab you and tell you I would never leave you to go to Seattle. I had to stand there listening to him making stupid jokes about karaoke and I knew you were so fucking upset and I couldn't do anything to comfort you. And I...I just hated him and I felt guilty because he'd done nothing but try and make me happy for two years.'

Fuck. That was fucking...intense.

'I'm so sorry...'

'And I knew as I left with him that I was going to break his heart because he just would never give up, whatever problems we had' Kevin continued, relentless now in finishing this horrible conversation. 'but I was going to walk away because there was no fucking way I could stay with him when I was so in love with you, if there was even a chance you would take me back.'

Patrick reached out for Kevin's other hand, too choked up to say anything. He looked at their hands holding each other, then he looked up at Kevin.

'This is such a fucked up thing to say, but that was really beautiful.'

Kevin shook his head and smiled. A genuine, fucking real, in love smile.

'Jesus.' Patrick smiled back. 'We put each other through the fucking ringer!'

'I never thought for one minute though, that you weren't worth it.' Kevin stated forcefully. 'And even knowing what happened since, and who we've hurt and how we behaved, I STILL will NEVER regret meeting and falling in love with you. I AM the luckiest man in the world for getting to be with you.'

Patrick sniffed, trying to stop himself from tearing up in the restaurant. Fucking Kevin. Say the absolute most perfect right thing at the absolutely wrong time.

'My pancakes are cold.'

Kevin chuckled.

'You want to order more?

'No.' Patrick grimaced at the thought of trying to eat anything now when he was feeling so emotional and weepy. 'I'm not really hungry any more. Can we just go home? Watch a movie?'

'Whatever you want.' Kevin smiled at him. And like that...peace and harmony was restored. They'd got through their first post-second-move-in conversation and, sure, Patrick had been reduced to wobbly tears in public, but it had been totally worth it just to know that they could do it. They could have an honest discussion of something painful in their past and not lash out at each other or run away from each other. And though the whole Richie thing wasn't exactly resolved, Patrick felt more confidence now that at any point that they would be able to work out the role that Richie could and would play in their lives.

So they'd gone to see a movie, and then did a bit of grocery and house stuff shopping, careful with each other, still not ready to take each other for granted. And now, hours later as Patrick watched Kevin prepare what was definitely not a real meal, and only partially listened to him chatting randomly about work and shopping plans, he was fully aware that this minute, in this kitchen, in this apartment, was a minute he almost didn't have.

So he'd eat whatever crap Kevin prepared for him, and even put up with a poster of Kevin Costner looking down at him all smug and cocky, because happiness was getting to live with your boyfriend's bad taste and poor cooking skills, and great body, and beautiful, talented penis, and grabby, clutching hands, and horrible, loving, affectionate, annoying teasing, and big, pointy out ears, and rock hard pecs, and razor sharp brain, and gamer nerdiness, and beautiful smiling crinkly eyes, and...so many many good and bad things.

Patrick felt overwhelmed as he watched Kevin dump the salad pieces into some random wooden bowl that magically appears from a cabinet. He couldn't help himself. He walked around the counter and grabbed Kevin around the waist, pushing his face into Kevin's neck, squeezing him tight.

Kevin protested, brandishing his knife and trying to shove Patrick away as he tried to finish the salad. But Patrick held on not letting go. He would never let go. Whatever happened at work in the next few days, whatever condemnation they faced and difficulties that lay ahead of them, as long as he could hold onto Kevin, and avoid his flailing knife, they could face anything, together.

Kevin sighed, and Patrick felt him relenting grudgingly. This was so romantic. The two of them, sort of hugging...well, Patrick stuck like a barnacle on Kevin's back and Kevin trying to tidy up cutting boards. And as usual, what started off as romantic pretty quickly morphed into something significantly more earthy. Kevin smelt good. Freshly showered. A little musky from his own natural clean sweat. And he looked so fricking sexy in his tight black t-shirt holding that huge knife with such a serious expression on his adorable face. Patrick became a little more amorous, dropping his arms a little lower around Kevin's hips and casually letting his hands rest conveniently just above Kevin's crotch. He also decided that maybe Kevin could do with being reminded just how much he loved Patrick's mouth.

'Don't mind me...keep cooking' Patrick murmured into Kevin's ear, sticking his tongue out to gently lap at that little piece of skin that joined Kevin's shoulder to his neck. Salty. Yum.

He turned a suddenly pliable Kevin round and dropped to his knees as Kevin leant back against the counter. Patrick smiled up sweetly at Kevin as he unbuttoned Kevin's jeans and reverently pulled out his semi-hard cock form within his briefs.

'Fuck' Kevin exhaled as Patrick dropped his mouth onto him and took him inside with one smooth, deep motion. He would be getting some protein after all, Patrick though hazily, as the smell of pure sex overwhelmed him. God, this man really did have a magnificent dick.

'Jesus fucking christ...' Kevin whispered, as his non-knife wielding hand dropped to clutch at Patrick's head. 'You are making me weak at the knees' he moaned.

Patrick pulled off Kevin's cock and looked up at him again, focusing on the glassy eyes and puffed bitten lips that told him how much Kevin was enjoying himself.

'Keep those knees locked just a little longer' he suggested, as he pushed up off his own knees and turned Kevin roughly, pushing him onto the counter. Lube, condoms, all conveniently placed in a drawer an arm's length away, helped him find himself deep in Kevin's body within moments, and they both exhaled as they paused for a moment to let Kevin get used to the invasion. Patrick felt him relax, and saw his hand drop the knife as he braced his arms against the counter. Good. He was ready.

Within minutes Kevin's chest was sprawled against the granite, his arms scrabbling to find something to hold onto as Patrick panted in his ear how much he was enjoying fucking him, being inside him, feeling him hot and tight all around him.

Kevin's twisted his body up and around to grab Patrick's head and bring his mouth down for a kiss. Well, more like so he could chew Patrick's lips off and suck his tongue deep into his own mouth as he tried to get as deep into Patrick's body as Patrick was in his. Patrick wanted deeper access though, so he pushed Kevin back down after a few minutes of that desperate, fucking hot kissing, and was only briefly thrown off his game as he heard a clang and Kevin's swearing.

Oops. There went the wooden bowl. Swept off the counter to make room for Kevin's heaving chest.

Patrick smiled, before his eyes rolled back in his head and he came and fucking came, panting and grunting into Kevin, feeling Kevin tighten around him as his own orgasm obviously took over his body and left him lying there weakly, gasping for air.

'You fucker' Kevin panted. Patrick patted his hip sweetly as he pulled out gently.

Another meal ruined. Yay!