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"You never told me last night whether or not you'd had a bad experience with the Church. Well?" Miles caressed the back of Alex's hand with his thumb.
Alex shrugged. "Nothing that particularly comes to mind, no. I s'pose I just never really believed in all that nonsense. Me dad always stayed home, and Mum dragged me along to services until I were old enough to have a say. Except for a couple of weddings and funerals, I an't been to church since I got confirmed at 14. After that it all seemed a bit pointless, really. I'm a member of the Church of England by name, but I s'pose you'd call me a proper little pagan."
Miles sniggered and kissed Alex's fingers. He spread Alex's hand open and traced a finger along the lines in his palm. "You aren't a little anything. You're only two inches shorter than me. You're about average, I guess. An' it's not the size that matters, it's how you use it, love."
Alex scowled, his face taking on a reddish hue that stretched all the way to his neck. "Miles! You don't 'ave to be so pervy. On a Sunday, of all days!" He groaned and burrowed his face into the crook of his arm on the table, muttering and mortified.
Miles passed his fingers through Alex's hair and sighed. "It's fine, Al. We're sat here in the privacy of our own kitchen, in our own home, and you just got through sayin' you don't think Sunday is any different from any other day. More or less. As much as I love you, I don't s'pose I'll ever fully understand you."
Alex lifted his head and laughed. "Is that so, Mr Kane? I suppose I should apologise. I am quite dreadfully sorry to be the source of such anxiety and bewilderment for you." He took hold of Miles's cravat, wound it round his fingers, and pulled Miles across the table to kiss him. "I love you, too," he said huskily. "But you know that, don't you?"
Miles pressed their foreheads together. "Yeah," he said simply. "I know you do."
"And, as the good Reverend McClure read this mornin', 'love covers a multitude of sins,' or summat. For all of the weird kooky shite I get up to - especially when I'm coked up, aS it were - you still love me. You've stuck by me through thick and thin these past sixteen years. I dunno what I did to deserve someone like you, Mi."
"Hush." Miles's voice wavered as he closed his eyes. "You're gunna make me cry, talkin' like that, an' all." He took hold of the lapels of Alex's suit and scrunched his face into an ironic frown.
"I s'pose I'll 'ave to take our suits back to London to get 'em laundered and pressed. Bloody hell, Al, the sight of ya in that black Donegal tweed suit really gets me...I was sat there in church with blue balls the whole damn time! Let's remedy that, shall we?"