Eight months later

“How much further is it?” Kyle grumbled. “My feet are killing me.”

“About half a mile. You’re doing great; this is by far the longest hike we’ve done together.” Patrick used his most encouraging tone. The one that wound Kyle up when he was in this kind of mood.

“No shit.” He glared at Patrick who grinned back, making Kyle even more annoyed.

It was unfair that Patrick still had a spring in his step after an entire day of walking. Kyle’s feet felt like bruised lumps of lead, and his legs were literally shaking from the effort of walking down the final steep incline of the hill they’d climbed. It was ironic that coming downhill was as hard as going up. It just hurt Kyle’s legs in different places.

“Wasn’t it worth it though? That view from the top was incredible.”

“Yeah. It was all right I guess.”

Patrick gave Kyle a quick swat on the arse. “Stop being moody. I’ll give you a foot rub later.”

It had been an amazing hike, even though Kyle had bitched most of the way up the insanely long, steep path that led to a ridge. Once up on top, he’d been able to appreciate why Patrick loved hill walking so much. They’d been fortunate to get a clear day, so as they walked up the gentler slope of the ridge, the landscape of the Lake District stretched out on either side of them in all its glorious beauty. Hills painted in shades of green and brown, interspersed with flashes of blue where water reflected the sky above.

They’d stopped to eat their lunch near the trig point, enjoying the breeze in their hair, and the warmth of the sun on their faces.

Kyle had been looking forward to walking down, mistakenly assuming that would be the easy part. But after two hours of descending a steep and rocky path, Kyle’s quads were burning. Now, on the final gentler slope, the pain in his legs had receded enough that the ache in his feet was more apparent.

“Why aren’t your feet sore too?” he asked.

“They are. I just don’t complain about it, because what’s the point in focusing on that when I can focus on all the nice things about the walk instead?”

“Hmph.” Kyle wasn’t going to admit Patrick had a point.

Patrick took his hand. “Look, we can see the car now.”

Sure enough, below them the silver roof of Kyle’s BMW gleamed in the sunshine.

“Thank fuck.” But the sight of it lent some energy to Kyle’s tired limbs and he picked up his pace.

When they finally reached the car, he unlocked it, and handed the keys to Patrick. “You can drive. I don’t think my legs can handle it.” He tossed his backpack into the boot, and then opened the passenger door and collapsed gratefully into the seat, easing off his walking boots to rub his feet.

Patrick got into the driving seat and leant across, cupping Kyle’s jaw, and turning his head for a kiss. “Well done. You just climbed the highest peak in the Lake District.”

With no more walking ahead of him, till tomorrow at least, Kyle finally rewarded Patrick with a smile and said begrudgingly, “Yeah. It was pretty cool.”

They parked in front of Mrs Wilcox’s cottage and walked around the path and through the back garden to their flat—Kyle thought of it as theirs, even though it was regularly rented out to holidaymakers now it was the summer season.

This was their third trip back since Christmas. They’d been to visit over Easter, as well as for a long weekend in June. Now, in August, they were back for a whole week this time, the trip having been planned to coincide with an important date.

“You got the key?” Kyle asked.

Patrick handed it to him and Kyle let them in. Kicking off his boots at the door, he headed straight for the sofa and lay on it, feet tucked up, and head on a cushion.

The cushions were one of the new features, along with thick pile carpet and a rug, a coffee table, a small table at the kitchen end, and a few watercolour paintings on the freshly painted walls.

“Where am I supposed to sit?” Patrick asked.

Kyle lifted his legs and pointed. “Here. The perfect spot for giving me a foot rub.”

“Your feet will be all sweaty. Don’t you want to shower first?”

“No. Too tired.”

“Okay. I’m making some tea first. Do you want one?”

“Yes please.” Kyle put his legs back down again. “And I need biscuits too.”

“You’re so demanding,” Patrick said, but his voice was fond.

“I know. I don’t know why you put up with me.”

“Because your arse is cute.”

Kyle laughed. “Truth.”

When Patrick returned with cups of tea, a packet of chocolate chip cookies and a pot of peppermint foot cream, Kyle lifted his legs so Patrick could sit down.

Patrick peeled off Kyle’s socks and tossed them on the floor, got some lotion out of the pot, and smoothed it into the arch of one of Kyle’s feet.

“Mmm.” Kyle closed his eyes.

“Does that feel good?”

“Perfect.”

Patrick drummed his fingers impatiently on his thigh and checked the time on his watch again. “Hurry up, or we’re going to be late.” Already fully dressed, shoes on, with a bottle of wine, a box of chocolates, and a large bunch of pink roses on the coffee table in front of him, Patrick was waiting for Kyle who was still faffing about in the bathroom.

“I’m nearly ready. Just trying to sort out my hair,” Kyle called.

Kyle always took ages to get ready to go out and it drove Patrick nuts. He seemed incapable of planning for the extra time he needed to fuss with his hair, and change his clothes four times till he was happy with his outfit. Rolling his eyes, Patrick didn’t reply. Instead he took a calming breath and focused on his crossword.

After another few minutes he put the newspaper aside and went to see what the hell his boyfriend was doing.

Leaning over the sink, wearing nothing but tight white briefs—so much for being nearly ready—Kyle was teasing the spikes of his hair with his fingertips and frowning at his reflection.

“Your hair looks great,” Patrick said, and it was the truth. Kyle always looked immaculate even if the perfectionist in him was never satisfied. “But you need to rethink the outfit.”

“Ha ha. Funny man.” Kyle carried on messing with his hair.

His cute arse sticking out was way too much for Patrick to resist. Quick as a flash he yanked Kyle’s briefs down and gave him two sharp smacks, one on each cheek, punctuating them with the words, “Hurry. Up.”

“Ow!” Kyle yelped. “Okay, okay. I’m hurrying.” Turning away from the sink, he pulled his briefs back up. Patrick couldn’t help noticing the growing bulge at the front. Spanking always turned Kyle on and Patrick loved his instant response to it. It turned Patrick on too, but he ignored the rush of desire. They were already going to be late, so this would have to wait.

He stood by the front door, wine under one arm, and chocolates in hand, watching Kyle as he dressed in pale skinny jeans and a white short-sleeved shirt with a grey and blue paisley print. Finally Kyle slipped on some loafers and then turned to Patrick. “How do I—?”

“You look gorgeous as always. And we’re leaving. Don’t forget to pick up the flowers.” Patrick opened the door and waited.

“Thanks, darling. You look gorgeous too.” Kyle grinned and kissed Patrick on the cheek as he passed him, heading out into the garden.

The back door of the cottage was open, and as Patrick and Kyle walked along the path, Dex came running out, followed by a toddler with hair the colour of sun-ripened corn giggling joyously, hands outstretched.

“Will.” A man followed. “Wait for Granddad!” Kyle immediately recognised him as Mrs Wilcox’s son, John, from the photos in her cottage.

Will—who had presumably been named after his great-grandfather—stopped short at the sound of Patrick and Kyle’s feet crunching on the gravel and looked up at them, blue eyes round and curious.

“Hello,” Patrick said to the child, crouching down to pet Dex who’d run over to greet him.

“’Lo.” Will stared at him warily, sidling closer to Dex. He put out a chubby hand and stroked Dex’s fur.

“Hi.” The man said cheerfully, offering his hand to Kyle. “You must be Kyle and Patrick. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s wonderful to meet you both at last. I’m John.”

“I’m Kyle,” Kyle smiled, “and that’s Patrick.”

“Hi, John.” Patrick stood to shake his hand. “Good to meet you too.”

“I can’t thank you enough for what you did for my mum at Christmas. You made such a difference.”

“She helped us out of a tight spot too,” Patrick said. “We were desperate for somewhere to stay.”

“No room at the inn?” John grinned.

“Something like that.”

“Anyway, that’s everyone here now, so it’s time for the toast. Let’s head inside. I know mum’s dying to introduce you to everyone. Come on, Will. We’re going in for a bit.”

“No.” Will stuck out his lower lip and frowned, not keen on that plan.

“Dex is coming, aren’t you Dex?” Kyle said, patting his hip. Dex immediately went to heel with Will following. “Let’s go.”

Will grabbed onto the thick fur at the scruff of Dex’s neck and toddled along beside him as Kyle headed for the back door.

“Well that was easier than I expected,” John said to Patrick in amusement. “Your fella’s smart.”

As they stepped into the kitchen, Patrick was surrounded by noisy chatter. The scent of something savoury and delicious emanated from the oven.

“Here they are!” Delight shone in Mrs Wilcox’s eyes as she caught sight of Kyle and Patrick. She eased herself out of her chair to greet them, hugging them with one arm, leaning on her stick with the other. “Oh, thank you. How lovely,” she said as they gave her their gifts. “Can you pop them down on the table for now? Let me introduce you to my family. I see you’ve already met John and Will.” She smiled fondly at Will who was still petting Dex, tugging on his ears, and ruffling his fur the wrong way. Dex sat patiently beside him, a long-suffering look on his face.

“Try it like this.” Kyle crouched beside Will and guided his little hand more gently, showing him what to do.

“This is Marianne, my daughter-in-law.” Mrs Wilcox gestured to a woman with wavy blonde hair.

“Hi.” Marianne smiled at them.

“And then there’s Paul and Kate.” A couple who looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties greeted them next. Patrick assumed they must be Will’s parents.

“And last but not least, this is Robert.” A man who looked so like Paul they could only be brothers gave them a nod.

“Everyone. This is Patrick and Kyle,” Mrs Wilcox announced. “My Christmas angels.”

Kyle snorted. “I’ve never been called an angel before.”

Everyone laughed.

“Right.” John clapped his hands. “Now we’re all here, let’s pop open the bubbly. It’s time for a toast.”

The next couple of minutes were a bustle of activity, with Paul and Robert assembling glasses on the kitchen table while John got a couple of bottles of champagne out of the fridge. He handed one to Patrick. “Can you do the honours?” Once both corks were popped and the glasses had been filled, they handed them around to everyone.

An expectant hush fell.

“Do I have to make a speech?” Mrs Wilcox asked, glass in hand. “I just want to drink it!”

That was greeted with laughter, and John said, “Well, given that it’s your eightieth birthday, Mum. I think you can do what you damn well want.”

“We should sing though,” Kate suggested. There were murmurs of agreement, and then an awkward silence before Robert began singing and the rest of them joined in.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you….”

When they’d finished, they all raised their glasses and drank.

“Ooh this is lovely,” Mrs Wilcox said. Then she looked around the room at everyone. “Thank you all for being here to celebrate with me. My family, and friends who feel like family.” She smiled fondly at Kyle and Patrick. “You’re all so important to me and I’m glad we were able to get together for this date.”

A swell of emotion made Patrick’s eyes prickle. “It’s an honour to be here,” he managed, voice a little husky. “Thank you for inviting us.”

Kyle moved to stand by his side, reaching for Patrick’s free hand, he laced their fingers together, and squeezed gently. His family had always made Patrick welcome too, and Kyle understood how bittersweet these occasions were for him.

The evening passed in a delightful haze of champagne, good food, and great company. They ate in the kitchen, squeezed around the table, and then adjourned to the living room for birthday cake with tea, coffee, or more wine depending on who was driving.

Will started to get grumpy and tearful by eight o’clock, so Kate whisked him off to get him settled for bed—they were staying in the cottage tonight—and Dex, bored without his little companion came to bother Kyle instead, nudging him with his nose.

“Hey, boy.” Kyle petted him.

Dex gave a yelp.

“What’s up?”

He got a grumbly noise in reply.

“I think he needs a walk,” Kyle said to Patrick.

At the sound of the word, Dex’s ears pricked up, and he barked sharply.

“Oh dear. You’ve done it now,” John said with a chuckle. “Mum, do you want me to take Dex out?”

“We can do it,” Kyle said immediately. “You’ll be up for a stroll, won’t you Patrick?”

Patrick nodded. He was always happy to get outdoors, and it looked as though it was a beautiful evening. Blue sky was just beginning to fade into twilight through the living room window.

“You sure?” John asked.

“Absolutely.” Kyle stood and offered a hand to Patrick, pulling him up. “Come on, Dex. See you later, everyone.”

They went to put their walking boots on back at the flat, while Dex whined impatiently, raring to go.

“Which way do you want to walk?” Patrick asked once they were ready. During their various trips here, they’d explored the local area thoroughly and knew several good routes for a short dog walk now.

“To the tree.”

Patrick didn’t need to ask which tree.

They walked through the village hand in hand, not caring when one old man looked at them curiously, his gaze dropping to their joined hands.

“Good evening,” Patrick greeted him.

“Evening,” he replied pleasantly enough, touching the peak of his cap before hurrying past them.

“Not used to seeing gays in the village,” Kyle whispered, grinning.

Patrick chuckled. “Apparently not.”

They passed the shop—closed for the evening now—and then the pub, before taking the path into the woods near the church. Given permission to leave Kyle’s heel, Dex bounded off happily while Patrick and Kyle walked more slowly.

The leaves overhead made it dark and mysterious, and when they climbed over the stile into the field beyond, the contrast of the open sky above them was dramatic. Utterly clear, the deep blue faded at the horizon into delicate shades of rose gold and pink. A skylark wheeled above them, singing its last song of the evening.

Walking in comfortable silence, they made their way to the middle of the field while Dex ran around the periphery, sniffing happily. Covered in leaves now, the tree in the centre was very different to how it had been when they’d first seen it in midwinter with its stark bare branches spreading towards the sky. The clumps of mistletoe were still visible, although harder to spot in the camouflage of the oak leaves.

Looking up, Kyle tugged on Patrick’s hand until they were standing beneath one dark cluster, and then he tilted his face expectantly.

Patrick cupped Kyle’s jaw and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too.”

“I don’t need mistletoe as an excuse to kiss you now,” Patrick said.

“Nope. You get to kiss me whenever you like. Now get on with it.” Kyle slipped his hand around the back of Patrick’s neck, pulling him down for more.

“Brat.” Patrick smacked him on the arse, the word muffled as he pressed his mouth to Kyle’s again.

When they drew apart. Kyle’s expression was soft with affection, so different to the hard veneer he’d shown Patrick when they’d first met.

“You still sure you want to move in with me at the end of the month?” Patrick asked. They’d discussed it carefully before making the decision, but Patrick still harboured a fear that Kyle might change his mind at the last minute.

“Yes!” Kyle gripped Patrick’s shoulders. “How many times do I have to say it?”

“And you’ll cope with me being messy?”

“If you’ll cope with me tidying up your stuff.”

Patrick laughed. “I’m already used to that.”

Over the last few months, Kyle had spent more and more of his time at Patrick’s. The larger of their two flats and closer to work, it made sense for them to stay there when they wanted to spend the night together—which was virtually every night.

“Anyway, it’s too late to back out now. I’ve already given notice on my flat, so you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh well. I guess I’ll have to make the best of it.” Patrick tried to sound resigned, but he couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “I’ve been stuck with you before and it wasn’t so bad.”

Dipping his head for another kiss, Patrick was sure he’d never get tired of this. With Kyle in his arms he was happy, a deep peaceful happiness that he was gradually learning to trust. Kyle still had moments of insecurity too but they got through them together, understanding the reasons for their fears and forgiving them.

One day at a time.

Holding each other close, they kissed in the fading light with the song of the lark high above them.