He meets Roderick’s glare head-on, not even flinching.That smile curves across his lips—lazy, unapologetic, infuriating.
“Too late, Roderick, you should’ve told me earlier,” Barret says, and doesn’t fucking blink.
Roderick’s jaw tightens.His eyes flick to me, then back to Barret, like he’s trying to do the math and coming up short on reasons not to punch someone.
“Barret, I swear,” I hiss, trying not to laugh, smacking his chest with the back of my hand.
“Love you,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my head like this is just a normal day.
Dexter’s doubled over in laughter now.“Oh, this is so much better than rehearsal.”
“Speaking of rehearsal ...”Barret lifts a brow at the room, his gaze sweeping over them with bored ease.He jerks his chin toward the hallway.“Studio’s open.The other Wilders are already in there, fucking around with sound loops.”
Dexter groans like it personally offends him.He drags himself up from the couch with exaggerated effort.“If they so much as play that fucking crow loop again, I’m quitting.For real this time.”
“We quit five fucks ago,” Alec mutters, pushing to his feet and stretching until something in his back cracks.
Roderick doesn’t move.
Doesn’t speak.
Just stands there, arms crossed, jaw tense, eyes narrowing like he’s still debating whether to stab Barret or just redirect the threat toward Eddie.
Barret doesn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledgment.
He stops in front of Eddie—close enough that it might read as confrontation, but it’s not.Not quite.There’s tension, sure, but also history.Trust.A silent agreement that doesn’t need to be said aloud.
There’s respect in the tilt of Barret’s head.In the way he drops his voice so only we hear.
“Take care of our girl,” he murmurs.
Then, without hesitation—without asking—he leans in and kisses Eddie.
Mouth to mouth.
No hesitation.No nerves.
Just a firm, claiming press of lips that turns open.Real.Deep.Barret kisses him like he means it—like he’s done it before and missed it every time since.Like he knows exactly how Eddie tastes and wants to memorize it again.
Eddie stiffens for half a breath, then sinks into it.
There’s a sound.Barely there.A groan swallowed between them, and I don’t know who made it, but I feel it in my spine.
The kiss isn’t quick.
Barret savors it.
Drags it out until Eddie’s fingers twitch at his sides, until my own breath turns ragged, until I wish I were between them instead of just watching.It’s possessive and tender and so fucking hot I have to press my thighs together, useless as it is.
When Barret finally pulls away, Eddie’s lips are parted.His eyes still half-lidded.
Barret doesn’t say a word.
He just turns to me.
And the kiss he gives me after that?
It steals everything.
