Title - Stepping Forward

Rating - PG13 (for small use of bad language)

Summary - Kimball wants to move the relationship forward.

A/N - These muses won't let me write any fic for these characters outside of the apartment at the moment - thus lots of disussions over food, tea's, in the bedroom etc. Written for a Prompt Table at the livejournal comm 'mentalistprompt'.

Prompt - 'You get attached to places, you know. Like people, I suppose.'

Kimball had gotten so used to Patrick being at his apartment that one evening, over a late dinner, he asked him to move in. Patrick didn't reply straight away, just took a lingering drink of his wine and eyed Kimball up carefully.

"What?" Kimball had shrugged at Patrick's hesitation. "You're always here most of the time any way, why not make it permanent?"

"Won't that raise a few eyebrows at work?" Patrick set his glass down and gave a small smile.

"Like we don't raise eyebrows already?" Kimball shot back over at him.

"Well this would certainly be a cementing of the rumours." Patrick replied and Kimball sensed more than hesitation in his voice as Patrick spoke.

"Since when did you care about rumours? Especially when, for the most part, it's true?" Kimball, sighing, sat back and looked over at Patrick.

Something irritated him, Patrick's non comittal, the fact that this 'thing' that existed between them was, by all evidence and fact, a 'relationship'. Yet they never really treated it like one, they were more than fuck buddies, but not 'partners', (Kimball refused to use the word 'boyrfriends' as it made him feel fifteen again). He wanted more but never pushed for it because Patrick had enough issues without Kimball getting all posessive. But Patrick was part of his life and he didn't want, need or wish to make room for anyone else who could be vying for his attentions. There were layers to Patrick, so many Kimball doubted he'd ever peel them all back but he was slowly stripping them back one by one. Only lately Patrick seemed resistant and Kimball didn't know how to stop him slipping away from him.

"Want desert?" Patrick asked, flipping the conversation to a completely different subject in a very unsubtle way.

Kimball set his jaw and shook his head, eyes burning into Patrick like he hoped somehow they'd cause a reaction. Patrick, ever evasive, looked off to the side and ignored the silent plea to talk.

"Think I'll have some," Patrick sighed and stood.

Kimball knew it didn't really matter, he wasn't going to turn Patrick away or give up on him just because he resisted any effort Kimball made to make a more permanent relationship. Kimball had gotten used to having Patrick in his life, knowing intimate details, knowing things nobody else would ever know about him. He didn't want to think of life without Patrick - not yet, not when things were going good. Thoughts of the future were something Kimball didn't indulge in when it came to Patrick. He focused on the now because that was how Patrick lived, Patrick's future held uncertainty and Kimball didn't try to kid himself into thinking that maybe he would be enough to save Patrick from himself.

Kimball started clearing away the dinner dishes as Patrick decided a bowl full of ice cream and chocolate sauce was the perfect desert.

"Got enough there?" Kimball asked dryly as the bowl soon filled with a pool of chocolate sauce, dollop of ice cream somewhere amongst it.

"Mhmm," Patrick replied with a smile, dipping his finger into the sauce and giving it a lick.

Kimball wondered at his own sanity sometimes, dragging his eyes from the digit and getting on with filling the dishwasher.

"Sure you don't want some?" Patrick, arming himself with a spoon, wafted the bowl under Kimball's nose.

"I'm good," Kimball shooed the bowl away and turned the dishwasher on.

He looked at Patrick who lazily picked at the bowl with the spoon, swirling the mixture until the two elements mixed together. Kimball watched a physical change in Patrick's face, from easy to serious - if thinking could be heard, there'd be a constant whirring and cog shifting coming from Patrick's head.

"I would you know," Patrick said seriously, down into the bowl. "Only that makes us,-"

He paused, gave a frown and looked Kimball in the eye. Kimball always appreciated the fact Patrick always looked a person in the eye, no matter if he was fucking them around or telling the honest truth. It was one of his pet likings of the man, like the way he ate ice cream or indulged in daytime television just for the fun of it.

"An item, serious," Patrick continued, reeling off and Kimball hoped he wouldn't say 'boyfriends'. "Boyfriends."

"We're not boyfriends," Kimball shuddered and shook his head. "For one, we're not boys."

"Manfriends?" Patrick had a glint in his eye and Kimball rolled his eyes. "Partners then?"

"Labels," Kimball grumbled. Why did everything had to be defined? "Any way, your point being?"

"It'd make us, permanent," Patrick turned serious again.

"You got a problem with that?" Kimball moved closer to him.

"No, it's just, we've never really," Patrick waved the spoon again, chocolate sauce flying everywhere. Kimball grabbed his wrist and moved the offending item back to the bowl before everything got covered. "Spoke about it."

"What's there to talk about? You like me, I like you. We've been at it like rabbits for the past five months after who knows how long of dancing around the idea," Kimball said, though he understood what Patrick was saying and it would change things a little. But not so much to screw everything up. "It's not like I'm asking you to marry me. I'm asking you to move in, not move to another country."

He still hadn't taken his hand of Patrick's wrist and Patrick gave a wriggle. "Can I eat this before it all melts?"

Kimball gave a heavy sigh and looked down at the bowl. The ice cream was definitely losing a battle in the thick, smooth depths of chocolate sauce.

"Will you at least think about it? I'm getting tired of having to call you to find out if you're bringing laundry over, or if you're eating here tonight or-," he asked, breaking off and giving Patrick what he hoped was an embarrassingly yearning look.

"Okay, I'll think about it," Patrick nodded.

"Good, now lose the spoon and let's finish desert in the bedroom," Kimball told him, tugging at his arm.

~fin~