Chapter Text
The sense of peace that Kevin feels is both euphoric and unbearable.
He finds himself looking out of a bay window and into a fenced backyard, contentedly scrubbing dishes as he watches two figures happily chase each other in the late afternoon sun. Is this a dream? Kevin’s head is incredibly clear, but at the same time is flooded with a languid haziness that only dreams can provide. It must be. It's so calm, which—If anything—makes it more shocking than a hell dream.
Kevin looks bemusedly down at his soapy hands before rinsing and wiping them on a stray tea towel. Usually he hates doing the dishes. He’s not sure whose kitchen he’s in, but it feels familiar enough that he isn’t thrown into a full blown panic attack. The walls and cupboards are painted a deep green and all of the amenities are neat and tidy, which he greatly appreciates. There’s a well kept standup piano pressed up against one of the walls, sheet music and song books organized on top.
He finds comfort here.
To his left, the door to the backyard smacks open. He’s quite taken aback when Connor (Connor McKinley, Nabulungi’s loudmouth theatre major friend who Kevin’s gone to see in every production on campus, the guy he’s suffered some embarrassingly unholy thoughts over, the man, the myth the legend) enters, his arms full of a young boy who looks around 10 or 11. They're both laughing happily, their temples pressed together.
"Hi, Kev!" The boy's smile is trusting and filled with affection, directed right at Kevin. Connor toes off his own shoes as he continues carrying the kid with ease. Oh. Connor's strong.
Kevin clears his head with a minute shake before he nervously smiles back, hoping he doesn’t appear as nervous as he feels. He figures it would be rude if he didn't. "Hey, Li." The name leaves his mouth on instinct. He's trying desperately not to look at Connor, even though he feels him staring. "Looks like you two were having fun out there, huh?"
"Yeah, it was great!" Li declares, scrambling out of Connor's arms and pulling off his own sneakers. A feeling of immense fondness tugs at Kevin's heart. "We played soccer and tag. I scored three goals!"
"With skills like that, you could be a soccer star." Replies Kevin.
"Maybe!" Li absentmindedly agrees, tucking his shoes neatly next to the door. "Con only got one goal. So maybe I could be a goalie since I’m so good at it."
Kevin laughs. "Only one? I thought he was supposed to be good at soccer—" Kevin’s teasing is cut short as he finally makes eye contact with Connor, who is looking him over with a soft smile like he knows him or something. He's older than the Connor that Kevin knows—maybe in his mid-thirties—and has truly grown into himself as a person. Holy shit, he's even got a five o'clock shadow going on, accentuating his sharp jawline and making Kevin’s heart rate jackrabbit. How can someone’s facial hair have him wigging out like this? Like a hormonal teenager, or some debutant flower seeing an attractive beau’s exposed wrists. Which is the same thing, he flusteredly surmises.
Thankfully, Li hasn't noticed the crisis going on because he's too busy climbing onto the counter to try and grab a snack. He's talking about how he's not sure if he wants to do soccer for his whole life, how he's learning about archeology in school so maybe he'll do that instead—
Some deep-seated paternal instinct kicks Kevin into gear (or it could be the fact that Li's pants are dirty and the counters are clean, or possibly the fact that dealing with Connor right now is decidedly Not An Option). "Buddy, why don't you go wash up? I'll fix you something to eat."
Li hops down with a beam. "OK! Apples and peanut butter?" He’s already making his way to the stairs, dodging past Connor’s attempt to ruffle up his hair.
Kevin grins, amused. "Whatever you want."
Li is halfway up the stairs. "Awesome!" For such a small kid, his footsteps really reverberate through the house. He runs into his bedroom, the door closes. Besides the sound of him rushing around his room, it's quiet.
Kevin fortifies himself before turning to Connor, who has made his way over. He wonders, a bit frantically, how Connor moved so close to him in such a short amount of time.
"Hey, there." Connor comes to rest across from him, dramatically draping himself across the kitchen island. "Come here often?" He flirts, offering a borderline salacious smirk.
Kevin's stomach does a flip, so he lets out a nervous laugh and rolls his eyes. The Connor he knows is shining through, the one with the corny jokes and flair for drama, the one he can kind of sort of maybe deal with. "Yeah, what ever." He goes to turn back to the sink, trying to hide the way his face is surely going pink. "Still a dork after all— whoa!" Big, secure hands have taken Kevin by the hips and spun him around, putting his back against the counter, and Connor presses his warm, muscular body to his front. Kevin tilts his head back to look up at the other man, who is pulling a mischievous grin that Kevin’s quite sure he’s seen before. This one, however, comes with crow's feet and a real sense of self-assuredness. It seems that the solid foundation of confidence Connor had in college has had a sturdy, reliable house built on top of it. Good freaking Lord.
His hands have slid up to tenderly cup Kevin's face, and Kevin can't help but automatically wrap his arms around Connor's waist. Like it's the most natural thing in the world. Kevin Price and Connor McKinley, fitting together like two puzzle pieces in the grand scheme of everything.
Kevin blinks up at him, nonplussed. This is incredibly odd. Not uncomfortable, just…odd.
"Hi." He whispers, lost in Connor's lovely green eyes. He can’t remember the last time someone looked at him like this, with gorgeous softness, non judgemental and kind. Truthfully, he’s not sure anyone ever has.
"Hi," Connor responds in turn, his minty breath ghosting over Kevin's face. "Can I kiss you?" He asks gallantly, reminding Kevin of Disney princes, or the handsome leading man from Anastasia. On a regular day, Kevin would remember his name, but the way he’s being held in Connor’s intense gaze makes everything else fly out the proverbial window.
He unsurprisingly surprises himself by breathing out a soft "Please…"
Connor leans in, sets his lips against Kevin's, soft and kind. Kevin shuts his eyes, melts into it, a bit lost and very dazed. God, Connor feels so damn good.
Briefly, Kevin wonders if this should feel weird, wonders if he should be panicking. Since words aren’t exactly his forte at the moment, the only coherent thought that flashes across his mind in big, blinding letters is ‘ When in Rome! ’ So darn it, he’s going to do as the Romans do. On instinct, he runs his tongue across Connor’s bottom lip, causing the man to let out a little breath of happiness and a soft laugh that only Kevin can hear. This reaction leaves Kevin feeling rather smug, because he caused that! Reading all the Spock/Kirk fanfiction that Arnold had sent him over the years finally paid off—
One of Connor's hands has slipped down and found its way underneath Kevin's shirt, chilly from the outdoors as it slides up his midriff.
"Jeez!" Kevin yelps, eyes shooting open as he begins to squirm. Connor grinds his hips closer, effectively pinning him. "Your hands are too cold—" Kevin inhales sharply as Connor deliberately drags his fingers across his right nipple, enough to make heat spark in his stomach. "Connor!" He squeaks, flustered beyond belief. He’s never felt anything like this before, and the arousal is strong enough that it makes his legs begin to tremble faintly.
“What?" Connor asks, playing mock curious. His thumb rubs across Kevin’s nipple in slow, gentle circles. Kevin’s back arches, his head momentarily falls backwards as his breaths start to stutter. Connor absolutely knows what he’s doing, understands Kevin’s body enough to get this sort of reaction out of him, and if Kevin thinks about it too much, it’ll make his head spin. "Is this riling you up or something?" He slides one of his legs between Kevin's.
Kevin lets out a sharp gasp as Connor lifts his knee and puts pressure against his— oh gosh — "Connor, please." He weakly bats at Connor’s chest with a closed hand, not sure if he wants whatever is going on to continue forever or to end immediately. A voice in the back of his head begs him to let it happen, to give into pleasure for once in life. His resolution is waning fast.
Connor sets his leg back down on the floor, but doesn’t move away. "Yeah ok, ok. Not the right time." The smile he gives is sweet, understanding, and Kevin picks up on the general gist that this man cares for him deeply (this is alarming) in a way that no one ever has before. His hand slides back onto Kevin's hip and gives it a light squeeze. "Later?" He asks, before leaning in and giving Kevin a quick peck on the forehead.
Kevin finds himself smiling as he rises onto his toes and plants a kiss on the other man's cheek. "I'd like that." It’s easy.
Connor wraps his arms around Kevin and pulls him into a firm hug, to which Kevin responds in kind. They stay like that for a moment, Kevin listening to Connor's heartbeat.
The shower upstairs runs, the windchimes outside sing, and they hold each other.
Connor breaks the wordless reverence with a proposition, words vibrating in his chest. "I know we don't have time to…make whoopie–"
Kevin lets out a shrill laugh much akin to Arnold's. "Make whoopie?!"
Connor flushes red, just a little bit. "Yeah, yeah, knock it off." He laughs quietly. "You know what I mean."
"I'm not sure that I do." Responds Kevin, purposefully obtuse.
Connor shoots him a look that makes Kevin even weaker in the knees. A glance up and down, taking in Kevin’s body. "Based on what happened last night I was sure you did."
Welp. There go Kevin's knees. The shower is still running. "Kiss me." He demands, desperate for Connor’s mouth on his again. "While we've still got time.”
"Always so dramatic." Connor huffs playfully (like he isn't one with a degree in drama), before leaning down and firmly pressing their lips together.
The kiss is rough and emotional and so right in a way that Kevin has never experienced before. He trusts Connor so deeply that it aches. Kevin reaches up and runs his hands through Connor's hair, allowing himself to luxuriate in how soft it is, the way it slips through his fingers. He lets out a light groan as his own bottom lip is caught between Connor's teeth and bitten ever so slightly. The gentle pressure sends shivers down his spine.
The shower has stopped. Li fusses about in the bathroom.
Connor moves away from Kevin's mouth and rests his mouth in the space between his ear and his jaw. "I love you." Connor mutters, and Kevin can hear the smile tugging at his voice.
And suddenly, it all makes sense.
" Oh …" Kevin whimpers, tearing up slightly. "I—" He lets out a little sob, enough to make Connor pull back slightly. "You're too good to me."
"Kev…" Connor tilts his head slightly, and his eyes are filled with such a powerful, genuine love that leaves Kevin feeling overwhelmingly floored. "I could never be too good to you."
Kevin rolls his eyes and lets out a watery laugh. "You're so dumb." He smiles. "I—I've loved you for a long time." The Kevin who's afraid of intimacy would be appalled at his blatant display of Feelings, but that version of him isn't in charge at the moment, so, yet again, ‘When in Rome! ’
There's a moment of charged, emotional silence before Connor darts down and kisses him passionately, knocking a surprised " mmph! " out of Kevin, who throws his arms around Connor's neck as his body instinctively relaxes into the embrace.
The bathroom door handle rattles as Connor lifts Kevin with the intention of sitting him on the counter. He's about to remind Connor they have maybe under a minute before Li gets back downstairs when he remembers that the counter behind him is actually a sink. Before he can break away from the kiss and voice this, his stomach drops and his ass is in the dishwater.
Kevin lets out an unflattering shriek, his legs kicking uselessly. "Connor!" He’s definitely not aroused anymore.
Connor's look of surprise lasts about three seconds, before his shoulders and head tilt backwards as he breaks into a fit of laughter.
"What's going on?!" Li thunders down the stairs, a fresh pair of socks still balled up in his hand. "What happened?!"
"Go back upstairs!" Kevin pleads, but he's beginning to laugh as well. Why not? It's funny! "I'm humiliated!"
Upon seeing the situation, joy takes over Li's face. "Wow!" He begins to giggle. "Kev, you'll need a shower too!"
Kevin covers his face dramatically. "The water’s gone cold…" he laments, playing up his embarrassment for laughs. The funny thing is, this isn’t as humiliating as he’d assume it would be, because he knows deep down that he’s not being made fun of. He feels loved, valued, cared for on an intrinsic level. It’s strange. He knows, of course, that he’s always been loved by friends and family. But this feels different in a way he just doesn’t have the words to explain yet.
"Poor baby," Connor jokes, his laughter beginning to peter out, but still there, hanging onto his every word. He reaches out and holds Kevin’s face briefly, lightly pinching his cheeks. Kevin half-heartedly attempts to swat him away, but there’s no malice behind it (he’d be perfectly happy if Connor McKinley pinched his cheeks for the rest of their lives, not that he’ll share that. Yet). "C'mon, let's get you out of there." One of his hands wraps around Kevin’s left bicep while the other hooks underneath his upper arm.
"I'll help!" Li declares, tossing his socks onto the counter as he takes to grab Kevin’s other arm. Together, they hoist him out of the sink and back onto the floor. The water at the seat of his pants drips down his legs, through his socks, and onto the tiles.
Connor quickly hands him a dish towel, which does nothing to help the situation (obviously). But Kevin doesn’t mind. He doesn’t mind the mess on the floor, or how uncomfortable he feels in these sopping clothes. He’s ok, he’s safe, he’s happy. He’s just so, so happy.
In spite of himself, he smiles.
“Go change, I’ll take care of the mess.” Connor assures him, drawing Kevin in to kiss the side of his head. Kevin’s heart flutters against his rib cage, and he knows that if he wasn’t already blushing he most surely is now. Li has already moved on from the situation, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, a cutting board, and—much to Kevin’s great distress—an extremely sharp knife to cut it with. But Connor’s already on top of the situation, giving Kevin a gentle push towards the steps before heading over to their son’s side. “Alright, rules of knife safety. Go!”
“Rule number one: Make sure a grownup is nearby.” Says Li, taking on a tone you’d hear during the recitation of a dramatic monologue.
“Correct.” Replies Connor, adopting the same voice. “What’s next?”
Kevin, who’s begun to make his way upstairs, turns around to watch the duo. Connor is peering over Li’s shoulder, who is very slowly cutting the apple in half. It's all so domestic, and Kevin feels as if he could melt with pride. He can’t help but admire this beautiful family that he has.
“Hold the blade AWAY from your body.” Says Li, and the two apple halves roll apart as his knife finishes slicing through. “Three: chop slowly and watch your fingers!”
“Very good!”
Their dynamic is wonderful to watch, and Kevin wants nothing more than to see it for the rest of his life.
A cheerful, yet deeply annoying wave of chimes begin to flood the room. Kevin startles in surprise before glancing around, trying to see where it’s coming from. He turns back to his partner and child, who are still happily cutting the apple together, not privy to the cacophony of noise worming its way into their world. A picture perfect pair, beautiful and solid, everything Kevin didn’t know that he wants and everything he needs. As the chimes continue, the world starts to blend and colors bleed into each other. The edges of the room fade into light, closing in around Connor and Li till they’re the last clear thing he sees.
Kevin is suddenly steeped in the thick, unbearable sensation of melancholy. He must be waking up, it was all just a dream. It's so awfully overwhelming that he has to brace himself on the railing, fingers encircling it tightly. He doesn’t want to go. Prays to God to give him a bit more time. If God is there, he doesn't listen.
Connor looks over to Kevin, tilts his head curiously and smiles. “Everything’s ok, Babe.” He assures. “Go get changed.”
Like a gust of sweet wind, the dream rushes around him before dissipating completely, leaving only a lingering caress of foreign air and a breath of fresh life.
Kevin Price opens his eyes.
Greeted by the ceiling of his bedroom, he groggily reaches out to turn off his alarm. After doing so, he lays there for a few quiet moments, awash in the aftermath of the most peaceful dream he’s had in a long, long time. It felt real enough to leave him on the brink of some sort of crisis, staring into a vast unknown that feels distinctly Connor-esque.
He can hear the morning birds warbling outside, a lawn mower growling away next door, and Naba and Arnold blissfully serenading each other as they make breakfast downstairs.
“Bells will ring / Sun will shine / I'll be his / He'll be mine / We'll love until / The end of time / And we'll never be lonely anymore”
The world is still rotating on its axis at 1,000 miles per hour, his assignments pile up on his desk, and his crush on Connor McKinley has leapt from casual to all consuming.
“Gee, I really love you and we're / Gonna get married / Goin' to the chapel of love”