“You don’t like wearing suits,” Viggo reminded him.
“I feel underdressed,” Bjorn grunted, fixing his shirt where it was tucked into his jeans. He glanced at Viggo with a frown. “Why did you have to dress up?”
Viggo huffed, climbing the stairs to the front door and ringing the doorbell. “Because I wanted to. Sebastian isn’t going to care that you didn’t put on a suit – he’s going to take one look at the bulge in your jeans and forget about anything else.”
“You said I looked decent,” Bjorn hissed, looking down at his package.
“And I meant it.” Viggo stepped back and stood next to Bjorn on the stoop. “A little bulge isn’t indecent. It’s not like I can see the actual outline of your cock.”
Bjorn grunted, clearly unsatisfied, though why he’d put on those jeans if he didn’t intend to show a little bulge was beyond Viggo.
The door opened before they could discuss it further, Viggo’s stomach tingling with anticipation, dismay hitting him like a bludgeon when a woman was revealed in place of Sebastian.
He’d really hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with Sebastian’s mother yet.
“He’s not ready yet,” the woman, who Viggo presumed was Sebastian’s mother, said. The words were frosty, and the expression on her face was anything but polite.
“That’s all right,” Viggo said, smiling his most charming smile. “We don’t mind waiting. You must be Sebastian’s mother. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Viggo Blackwell, and this is my husband, Bjorn.”
“Hello,” Bjorn said, nerves making him sound gruff. Sebastian’s mother looked at him, taking in his almost glowering expression, and Viggo could tell that she found him downright scary.
The three of them stood there, staring at each other, Sebastian’s mother neither introducing herself or inviting them in. The awkward silence was broken by Sebastian calling out from inside the house.
“Mom, you didn’t open the door, did you? I told you I had it!” Sebastian sounded frazzled. A second later he was in the doorway, out of breath and looking absolutely delectable in a smart pair of black chinos and a white button-down shirt. “I’m ready now. I’ll see you later, Mom. Please don’t wait up.”
“Sebastian, I think we should-”
“Mom, I really need to go. We’ve talked about this enough. Have a nice night!” Sebastian practically shoved his mother out of the way and stepped outside, closing the door in her face and leaning back against it.
Viggo looked down at him and lifted his eyebrow with a smirk. “Hello, Sebastian.”
With the three of them sharing the stoop, there was almost no space between them, Viggo and Bjorn boxing Sebastian in against the door. It was a very arousing position, and Viggo was in no hurry to step away and give Sebastian his freedom.
Swallowing, Sebastian looked up at them with wide eyes.
“Hello, Viggo.” He turned to Bjorn, glancing up at him through his eyelashes. “Hi, Bjorn.”
“Hello,” Bjorn said, fingers twitching like he was itching to reach down and touch. “It’s nice to meet you properly.”
Sebastian nodded. “Yeah, you, too.” He took a trembling breath. “Viggo said that you remember…” He trailed off, the question obvious.
“All of it, yeah. I had fun playing with you in the lake. We should do that again sometime.”
Despite being delivered in a gruff monotone, the words seemed to ease some of Sebastian’s nerves. “I’d like that.” He looked up, his view somewhat blocked by the swell of Viggo and Bjorn’s pecs. “Should we get going? I’m pretty sure my mom is listening through the door, and I’m pretty hungry.”
Viggo laughed. “Of course, we have a reservation at Olivia’s. Have you been there before?”
Sebastian bit his lip and shook his head. “No, but my principal went there for her anniversary. She said it was really good.”
“It is,” Bjorn said, unsmiling and severe. Viggo could tell that it was just nerves, but he knew that most people would interpret him as being stern.
He hoped that Sebastian wasn’t too intimidated.
“Let’s get going,” Viggo said, stepping aside and gesturing for Sebastian to walk ahead of him down the stairs. There was just enough room between him and Bjorn that Sebastian could squeeze through without touching either of them, which he did with a quick glance and a nervous smile up at each of them.
“I’m sorry,” Bjorn whispered, too low for Sebastian to hear as they descended the stairs after him. “I’m trying.”
Viggo put his hand on Bjorn’s lower back, fingers splayed wide and rubbing up and down. “You’re doing great,” he whispered, just as quietly. “Don’t worry about anything. Just be yourself.”
