About two weeks after Sam had moved in, they had their first movie night together. It had been Sam's idea, even texting Bill while Rhys was in the shower to talk about the idea
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It surprised Rhys, but pleased him to see Sam had taken the initiative on inviting Bill over for the evening. Rhys had been thinking about it for a bit, especially to introduce Sam to Bullwinkle, and the fact that Sam beat him to the punch was nothing but a good sign, the big hunter starting to feel more grounded again, more secure. Rhys had even done some extra baking, filled up the tupperware containers with goodies to last the night (and plenty to send home with Bill
( ... )
A reminder that he was welcome had helped, probably more than he'll willingly admit. Not that he didn't trust Rhys, but sometimes it's just good to know that you're still needed, and while the phone calls had helped, there was no substitute for the real thing, to be able to reach out and touch.
The back yard was coming along well, it was a project he and Sam had been working on for about a week now. Old growth had been cut back, hedges planted, an herb garden tilled and sprouting new seedlings. It was also a warm, quiet night, the perfect time to sit outside with someone special and just.. breathe. Bill cups his cheek for a moment, his gaze warm as he traces the side of his face reverently.
"Hey." And before he says anything else, a kiss is fairly overdue. Nothing too passionate, just a warm press of parted lips and maybe the faintest tease of tongue, all affection and warmth. "How're you holding up?" Caretaking was exhausting work, and if he didn't get enough rest, Bill would make sure he bullied Rhys into more solid sleep.
The manual work had been good for everyone, progress that they could actually see as the yard slowly took shape, the shed put up, things that needed painting, painted. Long, sunny afternoons cutting and clearing and climbing and hauling, the kind of work that left them exhausted but satisfied at the end of the day. He'd spent entirely too long huddled over his laptop, too, in those first few weeks, trying to figure out exactly what kind of plants would take in the tough Colorado climate, compared to the milder, wetter places he was used to living in. But it was rewarding work, making the new place even more like the home they all needed
( ... )
He sets his beer down on the flagstones of the patio, sliding both hands up Rhys's back as he simply sat and basked in the quiet. Tuck has been a caretaker himself, so he knows that sometimes quiet and calm are all you really need to decompress. A soft laugh at the answer, one he's not terribly surprised to hear.
"I meant you. How are you holding up?"
The next admission makes his throat tighten unexpectedly because he's missed him too, missed being able to hold him like this, to be the one to take care of Rhys when he needed it. "I know. I miss you too."
A long, deep breath, taking in the wonderfully spicy sweet smell of his hair. "Waiting is never fun. But he needs you right now and that's okay." Tuck steals another kiss. "I understand."
It's part of the reason that Rhys and Tuck work so well together: Bill is one of the handful of people who can always see through Rhys's bullshit, and call him out on it. It gets a small smile from him, and a nuzzle into his neck as he gives a soft sigh
( ... )
Bill holds him close, letting Jared bask in the calm he offered. He might not be as big as Rhys, but he can still shelter the younger man in his arms, give him time to breathe. What he needs right now is calm, and a place to voice his worries, his fears. A soft kiss planted on his temple as he listens. Sam had been right. So perfectly tuned in to his emotions, he'd invited him over to talk about that very thing. Yet again, Bill finds himself impressed by the young man.
"Hey. I know, it's a lot to take in all at once, yeah? But we're okay. You and me, me and Sam, you and Sam." Tuck strokes down his dark hair. "I love you. So does Sam. We're going to make this work, Jared." It was new territory, and a little uncertain, but the more that he thought about it, the more certain he became.
"I got here an hour before you did," he admits, hands moving down his hair and along his back. "We talked about this, about us."
And it's welcome comfort, Bill's arms around him, just being able to curl up there and not think too hard about anything at all except that he's warm and safe for the moment. For all the joking, Bill isn't that much smaller, and Rhys is able to compress himself into a surprisingly compact ball when he wants to
( ... )
They've all been guilty of that same worry, that their needs might hurt someone else close to them. But it's okay. It means they can do this. It never would have worked with Marion and Nick in the same situation. Every party had to be self-aware enough to even admit that they were worried, and that simply wouldn't have happened. Hell, Marion couldn't even admit that anything had been going on with Nick in the first place.
"You know, a year ago, I never would have thought this was possible. I was still mourning Grace every year, and I didn't think I had it in me to love anyone ever again. But I get it now. Loving you doesn't mean I love her any less. And you loving Sam doesn't mean you love me any less. It's different, but it's still good. Worth fighting for. Sam, he feels the same way. That's why I think we'll be okay
( ... )
It's kind of fucked up, Rhys thinks, that he'd intended to comfort Bill for a little bit while he was here, and instead, he's the one that's cracking up. But it feels good, to rest like this and know that Bill isn't angry at him, doesn't think he's choosing, and still wants to be here.
The fact that they even consider their actions in relations to the others, that says a lot about the kind of men they are and why this could work. And part of the struggle, a big part, is that Rhys genuinely does love them both. In different ways, but it's there. What he feels for Sam is incredibly powerful, almost elemental, seven years of love and pain and want and chemistry finally coming to bloom, and that's hard to describe. His relationship with Bill is quieter, less wall-shakingly intense, but came up on him suddenly and yet still manages to feel like it's been there for an amazingly comfortable forever, and that's something valuable, too.
And, listening to Bill talk, he realizes that the older man really, truly does understand that, because
( ... )
Yet another clear sign that they all work well together. Rhys may have meant to comfort Bill, but it was apparent enough that he needed to let go as well. So Tuck held him and let it all come out. His hands never let up in their show circuit along his back and hair, smiling as he feels him start to relax against him. They'd be okay. Rhys had enough room in his heart for both of them and he was glad for it. Relieved, really. Because Bill loved him enough that he could have let him go
( ... )
It's...something good, something warm and safe, if they can get it right. Weeks worth of quiet uncertainty slides out of him and he nestles against Tuck's chest, thinking of how many nights that he's spent just like this, curled up close, talking, listening to each other breathe and soaking up the warmth. Tuck's got him, and Sam is just a few yards away with Bullwinkle keeping watch, home and starting to heal. Everything is where it's supposed to be, and maybe...he can really start to trust this.
He lifts his head just enough to peer up at Bill again. "Gonna have to start worrying about the two of you conspiring on me now?" he says lightly, hand splayed and moving slowly over his chest. God, yes, he missed this, and soon they're going to have to make arrangements for some time together. Rhys isn't all hormones, contrary to popular opinion, but he misses the feel of Bill's body next to his, against him and moving with him and the lazy lassitude after. That, and just them. The warmth, the company...that stupid thing with the pillowcase
( ... )
He reaches down, catching his hand and bringing it to his lips. “Conspire against you? Absolutely. You should be terrified.” Because now he had someone else who was more than willing to bully Rhys into taking care of himself when he needed it. To let Carla handle things at the bar and simply take time for himself
( ... )
"I live in fear now. I'm so outnumbered." Bill gets a smile, though, as he presses his fingers to his lips. Rhys might be stubborn at times, but he knows when he's beat, too. Most of the time, a little bit of pressure or being sat on is good enough to get him to slow down, it's just getting him to realize that he's falling down
( ... )
"Still don't know if I should be terrified or propose," he jokes quietly, letting Rhys cuddle in close and simply enjoying the familiar weight pressed against him. Long, lean lines that he knew intimately, that he'd mapped out with his lips and hands over so many nights
( ... )
Rhys chuckles. "She'd eat you alive, man, and you know it. Stick with 'politely fearful' and we're all better off." His voice is warm with affection, though. Knowing that Tuck's gotten so comfortable with his family so quickly means the world to him, and Ellen is one of the people that means the most to him. "I'm just terrified what happens when she meets Carla. And they talk. I am so doomed, you know." He smiles, though...he's so used to getting bullied by the women in his life, it's kind of a given at this point. And, though he might not admit it? It's kind of nice
( ... )
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The back yard was coming along well, it was a project he and Sam had been working on for about a week now. Old growth had been cut back, hedges planted, an herb garden tilled and sprouting new seedlings. It was also a warm, quiet night, the perfect time to sit outside with someone special and just.. breathe. Bill cups his cheek for a moment, his gaze warm as he traces the side of his face reverently.
"Hey." And before he says anything else, a kiss is fairly overdue. Nothing too passionate, just a warm press of parted lips and maybe the faintest tease of tongue, all affection and warmth. "How're you holding up?" Caretaking was exhausting work, and if he didn't get enough rest, Bill would make sure he bullied Rhys into more solid sleep.
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"I meant you. How are you holding up?"
The next admission makes his throat tighten unexpectedly because he's missed him too, missed being able to hold him like this, to be the one to take care of Rhys when he needed it. "I know. I miss you too."
A long, deep breath, taking in the wonderfully spicy sweet smell of his hair. "Waiting is never fun. But he needs you right now and that's okay." Tuck steals another kiss. "I understand."
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"Hey. I know, it's a lot to take in all at once, yeah? But we're okay. You and me, me and Sam, you and Sam." Tuck strokes down his dark hair. "I love you. So does Sam. We're going to make this work, Jared." It was new territory, and a little uncertain, but the more that he thought about it, the more certain he became.
"I got here an hour before you did," he admits, hands moving down his hair and along his back. "We talked about this, about us."
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"You know, a year ago, I never would have thought this was possible. I was still mourning Grace every year, and I didn't think I had it in me to love anyone ever again. But I get it now. Loving you doesn't mean I love her any less. And you loving Sam doesn't mean you love me any less. It's different, but it's still good. Worth fighting for. Sam, he feels the same way. That's why I think we'll be okay ( ... )
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The fact that they even consider their actions in relations to the others, that says a lot about the kind of men they are and why this could work. And part of the struggle, a big part, is that Rhys genuinely does love them both. In different ways, but it's there. What he feels for Sam is incredibly powerful, almost elemental, seven years of love and pain and want and chemistry finally coming to bloom, and that's hard to describe. His relationship with Bill is quieter, less wall-shakingly intense, but came up on him suddenly and yet still manages to feel like it's been there for an amazingly comfortable forever, and that's something valuable, too.
And, listening to Bill talk, he realizes that the older man really, truly does understand that, because ( ... )
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He lifts his head just enough to peer up at Bill again. "Gonna have to start worrying about the two of you conspiring on me now?" he says lightly, hand splayed and moving slowly over his chest. God, yes, he missed this, and soon they're going to have to make arrangements for some time together. Rhys isn't all hormones, contrary to popular opinion, but he misses the feel of Bill's body next to his, against him and moving with him and the lazy lassitude after. That, and just them. The warmth, the company...that stupid thing with the pillowcase ( ... )
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