In the past three weeks, Lee has spent the night in Kevin's bed thirteen times.
When he doesn't, he usually claims Agency business. Or sometimes it's Kevin's own need to spend a few uninterrupted hours on the Grid. He's learning miraculous things from the ISO's, but there's so much more he doesn't yet know. It would be enough to keep him busy, even without the added responsibilities of Encom and his desire to spend every spare moment with Sam.
But when Lee is in the country, and when Kevin is in the real world—when everything lines up just right—Kevin has gotten used to falling asleep with Lee in his arms. So it only seems natural, once President Nabuti has safely departed the United States, that Lee should follow Kevin home.
Sam's always happy to see Lee. Best secret agent in the entire fucking world, and he's laughing at a seven-year-old's jokes, building a tall Lego tower on the rug and arguing about the merits of a garage versus a helicopter pad.
Kevin doesn't weigh in on that particular conversation, though he'd take a good bike over a helicopter any day.
Kevin is too tired that night for anything but a few slow, sleepy kisses. From the way Lee curls warmly around him without a word, seems like it's not just him.
The next morning is a different story entirely. The sun's not even up before Kevin's got Lee beneath him, all roaming hands and gasping moans. Perfect. Kevin's shirt and boxers are somewhere across the room, and a moment later he tosses Lee's sweats aside so hard there's no telling where they land.
"Impatient bastard," Lee laughs, then groans as Kevin slips down the length of his body and takes Lee's cock in his mouth.
Kevin grins around heated flesh, and hums smugly as he takes Lee deeper. He thrills at the wild, needy sounds elicited by his ministrations.
"Fuck," Lee gasps. "Fuck, Kevin, do that again." And then there are no more words for a while, and Kevin is just fine with that.
The sun rises an hour and sixteen minutes later, and Kevin's alarm would have gone off by now if he hadn't silenced it in deference to the weekend. Instead, he's enjoying the sated lethargy of a quiet morning. Lee is asleep again, curled against Kevin's bare chest, and Kevin watches him with possessive warmth.
"Good morning," Lee murmurs without opening his eyes. Kevin's smile spreads wider.
"Morning," he agrees.
Lee shifts in Kevin's arms, brown eyes blinking open as he props himself up on one elbow. The corner of his mouth twitches, and—
"Dad!" Sam's voice calls from the hall, excitement and way too much energy for this early in the morning. "Dad? Dad!" Footsteps accompany the summons, quick and flurried, and then a pounding on the bedroom door. "Dad, Scooby-Doo is starting!"
Right. Because it's Saturday. Kevin groans and sits up.
"Better get decent," he warns, reaching over the side of the bed in search of his discarded shirt.
"Isn't the door locked?" Lee asks, eyeing him uncertainly.
"Yeah, but that just buys us the ten minutes it takes him to pick the lock."
"He's seven." Lee is now staring at Kevin like one of them is crazy and he can't quite figure out which.
"Yep," Kevin agrees. His fingers close on soft cotton, and he tugs the t-shirt over his head. He has to actually get out of bed to find his boxers, which seem to have flown a bit farther, and then he tugs those on too and feels more or less ready to face the morning.
Lee still looks leery, but he accepts the bundle of clothes Kevin hands him and dresses quickly.
"Kevin, what are you teaching this kid?"
"Everything I know, man." Kevin grins, and the second Lee is decent, he opens the door.