Bobby collapses to the floor with him, his knees straddling James’ forward one, hands cradling his jaw to pull him into a kiss. James laughs against his lips, his hands smoothing over Bobby’s back.
“I don’t have a ring,” James mumbles against his mouth.
“How could you possibly have a ring? I don’t even have a ring,” Bobby says. Then it hits him, and he rears back. “So you—you want to marry me?”
“I thought the getting down on one knee was obvious,” James says brightly.
Bobby drags another kiss from his lips and then leans back again. “Through Gwen, though. I would marry you directly if we could. Very proudly, just so you know,” he says.
James’ smile widens and he reaches up to brush the hair out of Bobby’s eyes. “I’d marry you too. And I’ll happily marry you through Gwen. We’re going to kick your and Beth’s arses at everything, forever.”
Bobby laughs, leaning into James’ hand. “We’ll beat you one day.”
“You can try,” James says.
Bobby can’t help but scoot forward into another heady kiss. And then they’re half-mauling each other, Bobby grinding down on James’ thigh as James works Bobby’s frock coat off his shoulders. He gasps against James’ lips, James’ fingers tugging his shirttails out of his trousers.
He breaks from James’ mouth and shifts on his thigh. They both groan, James pressed up against Bobby’s hips. There’s a brief moment where Bobby considers simply rutting against James until they’re spent, still in their trousers. But then James tugs his shirt off and Bobby decides tonight is not for fast and hot and hard. Tonight they’re... engaged?
They’re engaged. So it should be slow. And tender. And actually on the bed.
“Up,” he mumbles, standing on shaking legs.
James moans, a wonderfully rumbly sound, and Bobby reaches down to pull him up to standing. He wastes no time indivesting James of his shirt and then hauls him forward, wrapping his arms around James and leaning down to skate his lips up James’ jaw. The light stubble on his face rasps at Bobby’s lips and he hums.
James shivers and Bobby smiles against his cheek, and then jolts. James’ tricky fingers have already worked the buttons open on his trousers, his warm palm sliding inside to—
“Off,” Bobby mumbles, fumbling between them to get at James’ trousers too.
James laughs and Bobby meets his eyes as he slips his hand into James’ pants, the two of them beaming and panting and happy. He’s so veryhappy.
“We have all night,” James says softly. “Once hard and fast, and then—”
“You’ll let me run my tongue over every single inch of you?” Bobby suggests.
James bucks in his hand, his own fingers curling around Bobby, who groans in reply. “Deal.”
And then they’re on the bed, trousers halfway down their thighs, moving together, all hands and skin and hot and pulsing. It’s fast, and silly, and when they’re through, they wiggle out of the remainder of their clothes and flop back onto the slightly scratchy duvet together, hands entwined. Bobby stares up at the wood-beam ceiling, unable to stop smiling.
“Do you have your own room in Cowes?” he wonders idly.
“I do, but I would think we can arrange with the girls to find a pair with an adjoining door,” James says lazily, his thumb stroking the back of Bobby’s hand.
“We could do that on every trip once we’re married.”
“Have adjoining rooms?”
“As two couples, and then we just... swap beds,” Bobbysays, envisioning romping through Europe with James, Beth, and Gwen, sleeping beside James every night.
“That sounds divine,” James says, his voice relaxed and a little blissed out.
Bobby turns his head to stare at his lover, his smile reaching epic proportions. “It does, doesn’t it?”
Chapter Thirty
James
He wakes wrapped entirely in Bobby. A leg between his thighs, arms banded around his torso, head tucked into the dip in his shoulder. James lies there, feeling the rise and fall of Bobby’s chest and the soft warmth of his breath over his shoulder and neck, and cannot for the life of him stop smiling. He must look like a lovesick fool.
