Bobby stands rooted to the spot, openly gaping at his brother. “How did you— How long have you— What...”
Albie smirks, giving him a cheeky wink before he turns to head down his and Meredith’s hallway, leaving Bobby standingthere, flabbergasted. Albie figured out Beth and Gwen early on. But he’s never said anything to Bobby about his—about any of it. Don’t ask, don’t tell. It’s how they made it through life with their father, and they haven’t had to discuss it until now. But did Bobby and James mess up somehow, or is Albie just like a bloodhound for relationships that sit... outside the usual parameters?
“It was my foot you were toying with earlier, by the way,” Albie says.
Bobby jerks, turning to find Albie smirking at him before he enters his bedroom. The door shuts and Bobby groans, dropping his head into his hands.
He stumbles toward his room and then swerves, opening James’ door without knocking. James looks up from his book, startled, the most darling pair of reading glasses sliding down his nose. But Bobby doesn’t have the words.
Instead, he about-faces and storms back across the hall into his room to flop onto his bed in mortification. When he doesn’t hear James following, he raises up on his elbows, watching in amused frustration as James peeks out into the hallway, looking left and right before closing his door and scurrying across the hall into Bobby’s room. He shuts the door and spins around, looking at Bobby in confusion. If Bobby wasn’t quite so horrified, he’d give James flak for being so overcautious.
As it is, he’s just glad they’re in this together now. He moans and sinks backward, an arm over his eyes. He feels James sit down at his hip and tries to summon the right words.
“What happened?” James asks, concerned.
“I played footsie with my brother,” Bobby says hoarsely, lowering his arm to look up at James.
“Oh, God,” James says, his face going a bit pale. “Does he—”
“Know about us? Heheardus last night,” Bobby whines out.
James’ face loses the rest of its color, his back going straight, and Bobby internally winces. He meant it to be funny. He didn’t mean to put James into a panic.
“Hey,” he says softly, sitting up so he can reach out and stroke James’ cheek. “Albie’s happy for us,” he says, surprised by the hitch in his own voice. James’ eyes meet his, wide and bright. “Truly. He won’t tell anyone you don’t want to know. He keeps secrets, you know that.” Perhaps he’s reminding himself as much as he is James, after all. “Hell, you didn’t know about Beth and Gwen until this weekend, and really,youof all people should have figured it out.”
James huffs out a laugh, his body relaxing just a bit. “I guess.”
“Don’t worry. Albie’s on our side,” Bobby insists, scooting forward to press a soft kiss to James’ lips.
James is stiff beneath him for a moment, and then slowly melts, letting Bobby lay him back against the mattress. He’s already in his pajamas and a sinfully soft blue robe. “If you’re sure,” James whispers.
Bobby smiles, something bright and warm and free easing softly into his chest. He’s very sure. “You’ll just have to be quieter tonight,” Bobby mumbles as he leans in to take James’ mouth and works his hand down the front of his robe.
James snorts and pushes Bobby back, giving him the most fantastic look of consternation. “Iam not the problem, Robert.”
“Who, me?” Bobby asks, laughing as James’ look goes from disapproving to predatory. “Am I loud?”
“The loudest,” James says, hands already tripping down the buttons of Bobby’s vest.
“Well, that’s your fault,” Bobby says, unashamed to already be breathing heavily and squirming against James’ thighs.
“My fault?” James returns, pushing the vest off Bobby’s shoulders and then heading straight for his trousers.
“That thing you do with your tongue is utterly incomprehensible,” Bobby insists, laughing as James’ smile turns into a self-satisfied smirk.
“And you want me to stop, so you’re not so loud?” James asks, rucking up Bobby’s shirt.
Bobby raises his arms so James can lift it off him, sighing in delight as James sits up and runs his lips down Bobby’s newly exposed throat.
“Not on your life,” Bobby groans.
James laughs, the sound rumbling across Bobby’s body. James’ hand slips down his stomach, and Bobby decides he can forget everything else for the night. Nothing matters except for James’ mouth, and his hand, and his wonderful body. Not pregnancy, not finances, not parliament, and not the too-big shoes they all have to toddle through adulthood in until they fit.
No, tonight he’ll slick his tongue into James’ mouth and grind down against the hand toying with him, and forget everything else.
Chapter Twenty-Two
James
