James huffs out a laugh, squeezing his fingers. “It should be that simple, shouldn’t it?” he asks, looking over at Bobby. “My stepfather wants to buy another townhouse—a better, bigger one. But the only way we’d have the funds for that would be to sell the northern estate.”
That would break Beth’s heart, he’s sure. More, it looks like it might break James’ too.
“Is that something you’d want to do?” he presses.
James shakes his head. “It’s a gorgeous estate. I’d be happy to stay there.”
“Then can’t you?” Bobby asks, not wanting to push, but wondering if anyone has told James that he has a choice yet.
Thatheis in control of the Demeroven estate, not his stepfather. From the way he looks now, tense, and smaller, and uneasy at just the thought of his stepfather, perhaps it never has been a choice before.
James looks down at their hands. Bobby squeezes his and James’ cheek dimples in a half smile. He threads their fingers together, loose but connected and lovely.
“If I were as brave as you? I could,” he says softly.
Bobby feels his eyebrows crease. “Oh?”
“You’re so sure of who you are. You always have been. And here you’ve gotten maybe five sentences out of me, and you see the whole relationship with my family clear as day. And you know the solution, because it’s simple. But every time I’m in front of my stepfather, I...”
“You’re a little boy again,” Bobby completes for him. “God, I know the feeling.”
The look on James’ face is a brittle thing. “Yeah.”
“And I may seem brave, but you never saw me with my father.”
James’ fingers tighten around Bobby’s. “But you were always so confident and sure of yourself at school.”
Bobby blinks. “I— We never met. I’ve been wracking my brain, but I’d remember you.”
“No, we never met,” James agrees, his cheeks pinking a little. “But I noticed you. A... lot.”
Bobby stares. “You noticed me.”
“I, ah, fancied you,” James admits, his knuckles squeezing Bobby’s as that blush spreads from his cheeks and down his neck. “But I was a year ahead of you, and I don’t know why you’d ever have noticed me. I was pretty scrawny until last year.”
“I’d have noticed you,” Bobby says immediately. James gives him a look. “I would have! And we were all scrawny in school. I didn’t always look like this.”
“You were handsome then, and now you’re handsomeandmuscular,” James says dryly.
“Well,” Bobby says, preening a little just to see James laugh.“I still would have noticed you, and liked you, and probably fancied you back.”
James rolls his eyes. “You had much better options.”
Bobby frowns. He’s not sure how to fix that hurt, which looks like it runs deep. Doesn’t know exactly how to explain that while he finds James exceedingly attractive, it isn’t his looks that drew Bobby to him. It’s— “We’re kindred spirits,” he decides.
James blinks. “Beg pardon?”
“Whether or not you were scrawny, or spotty, or whatever makes you think you wouldn’t have caught my eye, it’s who you are that drew me to you, not how you look. You’re—steady.” He groans as James’ eyebrow goes up. “Solid. Fuck, no, it’s— Look, it’s not your... looks, or the fact that it’s convenient for us to have a dalliance, okay? I think you’re brilliant, and funny, and sharp as hell, and it’s more fun to do things when you’re around, even when we’re fighting. So don’t sell yourself short, okay?” he finishes.
It’s a far cry from the romantic words James deserves. Especially after admitting that he fancied Bobby, which honestly feels like an expanding ball of warm light in his chest. He’s honored that a younger James fancied him, and that despite the ugliness of the early part of the season he still likes Bobby enough to—
James’ lips are soft against his. The hand not tangled with Bobby’s cups his cheek and Bobby sighs into the kiss, lets himself get lost in its languid pleasure. When James pulls back, Bobby slowly blinks his eyes open, sure he looks as dopey as he feels.
“I think you’re smart, and funny, and handsome as hell,” James says softly. “And I still admire and envy how brave you are.”
Bobby shakes his head. “It’s easy to be who you are when there are no expectations on your shoulders. You could be like my father, enjoying all the spoils with none of the work. And instead, you’re trying to make a difference. I think that’s brave.”
James stares at him, lips parted, chest rising and falling quickly. Bobby tugs on their joined hands to bring them both down to lie on the hill, staring up at the sky. It’s a lot, this honesty. It’s wonderful, but aching. He’s never been so candid with anyone he’s slept with.
