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).
It was something they all needed, something like housewarming and just trying to find something like normalcy again. The past two weeks had been, for Rhys, amazing, but also emotional and exhausting as hell, and even as sequestered as he and Sam had been for the past couple of weeks, Bill needed the reminder that he was welcome here.
Rhys still worried about that, even in spite of all the late night phone calls and texts, a tug of unease in the rare moments that his mind finally wound down to something like quiet. Most of the time, he knew everything was okay, but...
But it had been a good night, comfortable and domestic, and Sam was sleeping easily under the watchful guard of Bullwinkle. Rhys grinned quietly back at Tuck, shaking his head at how easily the mutt had of course found the biggest lap available, and wrapped his fingers around Bill's, his own beer in hand as he bumped the patio door open. Quiet, peaceful. Domestic. The yard is starting to look like a yard and not the overgrown mess it had been before he took up the house, and on a summer night, it's perfect for sitting, shielded from the road and other neighbors by the house and trees. A not particularly large, but sheltered spot that Rhys has steadily been working to turn into an extension of the warmth of the house.
Rhys slides onto the lounge and tugs Bill with him with a low sigh and a quiet smile, glancing over him in the faint light still spilling through the glass and the hush of the late-night air. "So...hey."
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.
Rhys tips his cheek into Bill's hand with a soft sigh, meets the kiss with a long lingering of lips as he settles. No, phone calls and texts aren't the same thing at all, no matter how good it is to hear Bill's voice at the other end of the line after a long day. Holding him close, just feeling the steady, comforting weight of the smaller man against him, he's missed that. Things have been good with Sam, pretty amazing, actually, but there's still that weight of constant small worries, the knowledge of how fragile the big hunter is, and so many emotions pouring in that at times, Rhys barely feels like he has time to breathe.
Which means...yeah, he still needs moments like this, and he presses his face into Tuck's hair for a moment, just staying there and not thinking about anything, for a few heartbeats before he answers. "Pretty good, I think," he says, eventually, though it's tentative. He glances back toward the glass of the patio door. "He's doing pretty good. It'll be a while, but he's settling in." And that's...just like Rhys, really. Even when the question's about him, to him, it's about someone else.
There's another long pause, Rhys's voice quiet and uncertain in the dark. "Miss you, though."
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.
"Pretty good, honestly. Most of the time. I mean, I'm getting pretty good sleep, things are mostly quiet. Everything going on with Sam is pretty manageable, it's just giving him space and reassurance more than anything else. So...Just a lot on my mind, I guess," he admits, after a long moment staring out at the treeline. "Sam, you, the bar, just...all these things I worry about, because this all feels so damn big." His relationship with Sunny had never crossed the line into intimacy: it just hadn't been like that between them, and things with Blue had been a lot simpler, free of expectations. Just two good friends who crashed together, and occasionally had a little friendly no-strings-attached sex. In spite of being bisexual, Rhys never formed quite the same relationship bonds with women as he did with other guys, and both he and Blue were perfectly comfortable with that.
And everything before that, that had passed as a relationship for him, well...best not to think too hard about that, given the varying levels of desperation and exploitation that had defined those. But this...this was the closest he had ever been to something real, something stable and loving and healthy and happy, and that? That was just more than he could get his head around, at times. No matter how well he slept at night with Sam wrapped around him in bed, it still crashed in on him at times how immense this whole thing was. He was
"Y'know. It was easy to deal with when it was just 'when I get there'. Plans for the future. And then all of a sudden it's here, and it's like...what the fuck am I doing?" The laugh is just as quiet as his voice, amused at his own anxiety...whistling in the graveyard.
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.
The worry is worse because it makes him feel idiotic. He's in the best place he's ever been in his entire life, thirty goddamn years, and he's so terrified that at times he feels like he wants to shake himself apart over it. That it will fall apart, that he'll screw it up, or almost worse than that, he'll get what he wants with Sam, but at the price of causing Bill terrible pain. Normally, he's so confident, but this? This is where he falters.
The urge to burrow deeper into the crook of Bill's arm takes over, and he takes slow breaths, just reminding himself that this is a good night, that everything is fine. Tuck's fingers are soothing through his long hair and he curls into it, remembering that Tuck won't leave, that Bill came for him when it mattered. He finally, after a few seconds, finds enough voice to answer, a little surprised by Bill's words...though he supposes he shouldn't be. Sam may be hurting and fragile, but it's still Sam, perceptive and thoughtful as ever. "That's...heh." He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. It helps to hear that, to know that they know why he's afraid and have words already ready to comfort him. "I want it to work. God, you have no idea how much I want it to work. Just...every time I've ever thought about this whole settling down thing, it's just...I don't know. I'm not sure I know how to do this, not without hurting anyone. And that's what scares me the most." Because he always figured that falling in love with two people at once might be his downfall. His arm curls around Bill's stomach possessively, unwilling to let go even when he's most unsure that he'll actually get to keep this.
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."
His hands keep moving as they talk, slow passes through his long hair, down his back. "Me and Sam, we understand, Jared. We both love you, so we're gonna help make this work. Talk things out when we need to." Bill kisses his hair, arms wrapping tightly around him. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in ten years, you know? I'd be crazy to give this up."
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 it's the way Rhys would explain it himself, if he could find the words. Bill and Sam are two completely different men, he fell in love with them for completely different reasons, and they fill two completely different needs for Rhys. "I guess I just...hold onto people, you know?" He laughs quietly, a little self-consciously. Seeing the way Bill's come out of his shell, shown Rhys this whole other side of him is still amazing to him, and he snuggles closer into the older man's ribs. "Just needed a chance to bring it out, to show you it was okay. 'Cause you deserve to be happy." He squeezes gently. "And, you know I mean that no matter where you wound up, but...it means a hell of a lot that I've been the one able to give that to you."
A year ago, Rhys thought he was doing...okay. He was content, settled, but he never could have imagined this, either. He thought he'd come to terms with how much of himself he could put at risk, and how much he could hide away, keep from ever being hurt again. Even accepting an eternity of 'just friends' with Sam, to keep them both safe from possible heartbreak. And then things had started happening, almost faster than he could keep up, and, well...here he was.
"S'part of why I'm so messed up." He peers up at Bill from under his lashes, half-closed from the comfort of those soothing hands petting the tension from his back and shoulders. "This? It's the closest I've ever been to what I've always wanted. Things I never thought I'd have. And the idea of screwing that up somehow? It scares the shit out of me."
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.
He's just glad that it won't come to that.
"I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be," he answers, leaning for a kiss. "You reminded me that I could be happy again. That it was even possible after everything that kept going wrong." A soft sigh into the night air. "This is going to be a little weird for all of us, until we get used to it. But I really think we're going to be okay, Rhys. That we can make this work and not screw any of this up."
The best part was that Bill really did believe it. Talking to Jake, to Sam, and now to Jared, he was sure of it, sure they could make a decent life together as long as they kept talking, kept being open with each other.
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 that had them both nearly falling off the bed with laughter...
Teasing aside, he's glad to see the two men getting along. Not just because it means a lack of tension, but because Bill is good for Sam, too. The big hunter (ex-hunter, Rhys reminds himself) needs people around him to ground him in this new, normal life, and kind, intelligent, cheerful Tuck, with his love of good food and bad movies, is a good person for that. Maybe help him get into computers or something when Sam finally feels ready to start looking at something new.
But that's something they can think about later...much later. For now, small things. Healing, getting things worked out and stable, and taking their time, especially because the first thing Rhys promised Sam was that he would never pressure or push him, that he would have all the safe time and space he needed.
And for now, Rhys creeps up a little closer to rest his head against Tuck's shoulder. "Should plan a date night soon," he murmurs. "You and me, just, y'know, an evening out. Probably when I can get Ellen up here to visit and see the house and everything." And oh, god, is Rhys doomed when she wants to meet Carla and see "Rhys's" new bar. He nuzzles against Bill's beard lazily. "Dinner, something nice...carriage ride in the park, maybe. For being so amazing about all this."
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.
Bill would also be lying if he said he didn’t miss this, simply holding Rhys close, listening to his voice and feeling it against him. It wasn’t just the physical intimacy, it was being able to be free and open with someone, to not hold anything back. He also had someone to laugh with. The infamous pillowcase, or the cheese doodle incident that had them both in stitches on the living room floor or any one of a dozen little moments like that - Bill hadn’t laughed so much or so easily in years. Sure, he had a good time with Dwayne and Josh, but this was something different, something that was his and his alone.
And Sam is good for Rhys, he’s never seen him so happy with the big man living in the house, finally off the road. Tuck doesn’t know him as well, but they’ve hit it off and he’s sure that in the coming weeks they can build a lasting friendship over common favorites. Dogs. Computers. Food. Arguing over books. Sam was slowly rebuilding his life and Bill would do what he could to help him along. God knows he deserved the chance after everything he’d been through.
Another quiet laugh as he curls around him. “Ellen coming up here? We’re all done for, you know that? She’s gonna out mother hen both of us in under five minutes.”
“Mm. Date night. I like the sound of that. I’ve got to bug up to Canada for a couple of days this week, but other than that? I’m all yours.”
"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.
"Hey, she can see the new house, spend some time with Sam, terrorize us for a while..." he can't help but grin a little. He was just glad he'd had the foresight to work out an arrangement with Carla, knowing family business would pull him away from the bar as often as it did. A junior partner, learning the job and lending a financial leg-up for improvements, but not leaving the whole livelihood dependent on his ability to be there every day. There's not a lot of bosses that would let a partner just walk away for indefinite amounts of time to handle even family crises, and Rhys owes Carla a hell of a nice gift basket, too.
Bill is the only one getting the romantic night out, though. Maybe a night in a nice penthouse with a view overlooking the city lights. Rhys hasn't gotten to stay in many really nice hotels, and now that he actually has money to do it, it might be a nice thing. (There's a difference between spending weekends with Bill at the converted compound and an actual, full-service hotel, after all. Plush bathrobes to steal, for one thing.) "Figure she can help get the house in order a little more, a nice cookout for all of us, just, y'know...family, really, and if everything's nice and quiet, a night to ourselves." With his hand hijacked, he goes back to snuggling against Bill's chest, just breathing in his scent.
"...After you bring me back something kitschy from Canadia, of course." He smiles a little. "Gonna be careful, right?" He thumbs lightly along Bill's jaw, because he knows they have to get back to work eventually but hell yes he still worries, after everything.
"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.
A quiet night for just them. It's amazing how suddenly and how strongly he wants that. He doesn't begrudge Sam and the fact that in his condition, he does need more attention right now, but he misses Jared all the same. "Yeah, you let me know when and I'm there. Josh and Red can have the moose mutt for a night unless he wants to bunk with Sam again."
"Kitschy as can be, that's my motto." Tuck leans into the touch with a quiet sound of contentment.Because he'd get him something silly, but something he needed too. Maybe a giant blanket, good for snuggling under when the weather turned cool again. Or some local stones for him to fashion into charms and jewelry. Something always jumped out at him when he was away. "Careful as can be. Leaving the scary jobs to the big scary guys. Only think I might risk is carpal tunnel or eyestrain, promise."
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.
"He's good for Sam," Rhys agrees. "Knew he would be. And now that someone's home all the time, might think about heading down to the pound myself. Was thinking about it once I knew I'd have a yard, but, y'know. Late shifts and everything else, I wasn't sure." It didn't make sense to get a dog when he wasn't going to be home enough to take care of it, plus with the uncertainty after the attack...but now that things were a little more stable, and knowing that it would do Sam a lot of good? It was worth seriously thinking about. Rhys had always liked dogs, and even when he'd practically been living at the auto yard, he'd adopted a canny old witch of a German Shepard that he'd named Magda. There were still pictures of the two of them in his cigar box, even, a bony, half-grown, oil-streaked Rhys grinning with the dog at his feet.
Rhys sifts his fingertips through Tuck's shorter hair, before he settles back down with his head on his chest. Content, quiet. He can relax, it's okay to let himself, and he's finally starting to let himself believe that. They're okay, they have good things to look forward to, and whatever Bill brings him back, he'll be happy with, so long as he comes back safe. "Mmm. Good. I'll put a nice, long backrub on the card for when you get back, too, in that case."
It was something they all needed, something like housewarming and just trying to find something like normalcy again. The past two weeks had been, for Rhys, amazing, but also emotional and exhausting as hell, and even as sequestered as he and Sam had been for the past couple of weeks, Bill needed the reminder that he was welcome here.
Rhys still worried about that, even in spite of all the late night phone calls and texts, a tug of unease in the rare moments that his mind finally wound down to something like quiet. Most of the time, he knew everything was okay, but...
But it had been a good night, comfortable and domestic, and Sam was sleeping easily under the watchful guard of Bullwinkle. Rhys grinned quietly back at Tuck, shaking his head at how easily the mutt had of course found the biggest lap available, and wrapped his fingers around Bill's, his own beer in hand as he bumped the patio door open. Quiet, peaceful. Domestic. The yard is starting to look like a yard and not the overgrown mess it had been before he took up the house, and on a summer night, it's perfect for sitting, shielded from the road and other neighbors by the house and trees. A not particularly large, but sheltered spot that Rhys has steadily been working to turn into an extension of the warmth of the house.
Rhys slides onto the lounge and tugs Bill with him with a low sigh and a quiet smile, glancing over him in the faint light still spilling through the glass and the hush of the late-night air. "So...hey."
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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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Rhys tips his cheek into Bill's hand with a soft sigh, meets the kiss with a long lingering of lips as he settles. No, phone calls and texts aren't the same thing at all, no matter how good it is to hear Bill's voice at the other end of the line after a long day. Holding him close, just feeling the steady, comforting weight of the smaller man against him, he's missed that. Things have been good with Sam, pretty amazing, actually, but there's still that weight of constant small worries, the knowledge of how fragile the big hunter is, and so many emotions pouring in that at times, Rhys barely feels like he has time to breathe.
Which means...yeah, he still needs moments like this, and he presses his face into Tuck's hair for a moment, just staying there and not thinking about anything, for a few heartbeats before he answers. "Pretty good, I think," he says, eventually, though it's tentative. He glances back toward the glass of the patio door. "He's doing pretty good. It'll be a while, but he's settling in." And that's...just like Rhys, really. Even when the question's about him, to him, it's about someone else.
There's another long pause, Rhys's voice quiet and uncertain in the dark. "Miss you, though."
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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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"Pretty good, honestly. Most of the time. I mean, I'm getting pretty good sleep, things are mostly quiet. Everything going on with Sam is pretty manageable, it's just giving him space and reassurance more than anything else. So...Just a lot on my mind, I guess," he admits, after a long moment staring out at the treeline. "Sam, you, the bar, just...all these things I worry about, because this all feels so damn big." His relationship with Sunny had never crossed the line into intimacy: it just hadn't been like that between them, and things with Blue had been a lot simpler, free of expectations. Just two good friends who crashed together, and occasionally had a little friendly no-strings-attached sex. In spite of being bisexual, Rhys never formed quite the same relationship bonds with women as he did with other guys, and both he and Blue were perfectly comfortable with that.
And everything before that, that had passed as a relationship for him, well...best not to think too hard about that, given the varying levels of desperation and exploitation that had defined those. But this...this was the closest he had ever been to something real, something stable and loving and healthy and happy, and that? That was just more than he could get his head around, at times. No matter how well he slept at night with Sam wrapped around him in bed, it still crashed in on him at times how immense this whole thing was. He was
"Y'know. It was easy to deal with when it was just 'when I get there'. Plans for the future. And then all of a sudden it's here, and it's like...what the fuck am I doing?" The laugh is just as quiet as his voice, amused at his own anxiety...whistling in the graveyard.
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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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The worry is worse because it makes him feel idiotic. He's in the best place he's ever been in his entire life, thirty goddamn years, and he's so terrified that at times he feels like he wants to shake himself apart over it. That it will fall apart, that he'll screw it up, or almost worse than that, he'll get what he wants with Sam, but at the price of causing Bill terrible pain. Normally, he's so confident, but this? This is where he falters.
The urge to burrow deeper into the crook of Bill's arm takes over, and he takes slow breaths, just reminding himself that this is a good night, that everything is fine. Tuck's fingers are soothing through his long hair and he curls into it, remembering that Tuck won't leave, that Bill came for him when it mattered. He finally, after a few seconds, finds enough voice to answer, a little surprised by Bill's words...though he supposes he shouldn't be. Sam may be hurting and fragile, but it's still Sam, perceptive and thoughtful as ever. "That's...heh." He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. It helps to hear that, to know that they know why he's afraid and have words already ready to comfort him. "I want it to work. God, you have no idea how much I want it to work. Just...every time I've ever thought about this whole settling down thing, it's just...I don't know. I'm not sure I know how to do this, not without hurting anyone. And that's what scares me the most." Because he always figured that falling in love with two people at once might be his downfall. His arm curls around Bill's stomach possessively, unwilling to let go even when he's most unsure that he'll actually get to keep this.
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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."
His hands keep moving as they talk, slow passes through his long hair, down his back. "Me and Sam, we understand, Jared. We both love you, so we're gonna help make this work. Talk things out when we need to." Bill kisses his hair, arms wrapping tightly around him. "You're the best thing that's happened to me in ten years, you know? I'd be crazy to give this up."
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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 it's the way Rhys would explain it himself, if he could find the words. Bill and Sam are two completely different men, he fell in love with them for completely different reasons, and they fill two completely different needs for Rhys. "I guess I just...hold onto people, you know?" He laughs quietly, a little self-consciously. Seeing the way Bill's come out of his shell, shown Rhys this whole other side of him is still amazing to him, and he snuggles closer into the older man's ribs. "Just needed a chance to bring it out, to show you it was okay. 'Cause you deserve to be happy." He squeezes gently. "And, you know I mean that no matter where you wound up, but...it means a hell of a lot that I've been the one able to give that to you."
A year ago, Rhys thought he was doing...okay. He was content, settled, but he never could have imagined this, either. He thought he'd come to terms with how much of himself he could put at risk, and how much he could hide away, keep from ever being hurt again. Even accepting an eternity of 'just friends' with Sam, to keep them both safe from possible heartbreak. And then things had started happening, almost faster than he could keep up, and, well...here he was.
"S'part of why I'm so messed up." He peers up at Bill from under his lashes, half-closed from the comfort of those soothing hands petting the tension from his back and shoulders. "This? It's the closest I've ever been to what I've always wanted. Things I never thought I'd have. And the idea of screwing that up somehow? It scares the shit out of me."
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He's just glad that it won't come to that.
"I can't think of anyplace I'd rather be," he answers, leaning for a kiss. "You reminded me that I could be happy again. That it was even possible after everything that kept going wrong." A soft sigh into the night air. "This is going to be a little weird for all of us, until we get used to it. But I really think we're going to be okay, Rhys. That we can make this work and not screw any of this up."
The best part was that Bill really did believe it. Talking to Jake, to Sam, and now to Jared, he was sure of it, sure they could make a decent life together as long as they kept talking, kept being open with each other.
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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 that had them both nearly falling off the bed with laughter...
Teasing aside, he's glad to see the two men getting along. Not just because it means a lack of tension, but because Bill is good for Sam, too. The big hunter (ex-hunter, Rhys reminds himself) needs people around him to ground him in this new, normal life, and kind, intelligent, cheerful Tuck, with his love of good food and bad movies, is a good person for that. Maybe help him get into computers or something when Sam finally feels ready to start looking at something new.
But that's something they can think about later...much later. For now, small things. Healing, getting things worked out and stable, and taking their time, especially because the first thing Rhys promised Sam was that he would never pressure or push him, that he would have all the safe time and space he needed.
And for now, Rhys creeps up a little closer to rest his head against Tuck's shoulder. "Should plan a date night soon," he murmurs. "You and me, just, y'know, an evening out. Probably when I can get Ellen up here to visit and see the house and everything." And oh, god, is Rhys doomed when she wants to meet Carla and see "Rhys's" new bar. He nuzzles against Bill's beard lazily. "Dinner, something nice...carriage ride in the park, maybe. For being so amazing about all this."
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Bill would also be lying if he said he didn’t miss this, simply holding Rhys close, listening to his voice and feeling it against him. It wasn’t just the physical intimacy, it was being able to be free and open with someone, to not hold anything back. He also had someone to laugh with. The infamous pillowcase, or the cheese doodle incident that had them both in stitches on the living room floor or any one of a dozen little moments like that - Bill hadn’t laughed so much or so easily in years. Sure, he had a good time with Dwayne and Josh, but this was something different, something that was his and his alone.
And Sam is good for Rhys, he’s never seen him so happy with the big man living in the house, finally off the road. Tuck doesn’t know him as well, but they’ve hit it off and he’s sure that in the coming weeks they can build a lasting friendship over common favorites. Dogs. Computers. Food. Arguing over books. Sam was slowly rebuilding his life and Bill would do what he could to help him along. God knows he deserved the chance after everything he’d been through.
Another quiet laugh as he curls around him. “Ellen coming up here? We’re all done for, you know that? She’s gonna out mother hen both of us in under five minutes.”
“Mm. Date night. I like the sound of that. I’ve got to bug up to Canada for a couple of days this week, but other than that? I’m all yours.”
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"Hey, she can see the new house, spend some time with Sam, terrorize us for a while..." he can't help but grin a little. He was just glad he'd had the foresight to work out an arrangement with Carla, knowing family business would pull him away from the bar as often as it did. A junior partner, learning the job and lending a financial leg-up for improvements, but not leaving the whole livelihood dependent on his ability to be there every day. There's not a lot of bosses that would let a partner just walk away for indefinite amounts of time to handle even family crises, and Rhys owes Carla a hell of a nice gift basket, too.
Bill is the only one getting the romantic night out, though. Maybe a night in a nice penthouse with a view overlooking the city lights. Rhys hasn't gotten to stay in many really nice hotels, and now that he actually has money to do it, it might be a nice thing. (There's a difference between spending weekends with Bill at the converted compound and an actual, full-service hotel, after all. Plush bathrobes to steal, for one thing.) "Figure she can help get the house in order a little more, a nice cookout for all of us, just, y'know...family, really, and if everything's nice and quiet, a night to ourselves." With his hand hijacked, he goes back to snuggling against Bill's chest, just breathing in his scent.
"...After you bring me back something kitschy from Canadia, of course." He smiles a little. "Gonna be careful, right?" He thumbs lightly along Bill's jaw, because he knows they have to get back to work eventually but hell yes he still worries, after everything.
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A quiet night for just them. It's amazing how suddenly and how strongly he wants that. He doesn't begrudge Sam and the fact that in his condition, he does need more attention right now, but he misses Jared all the same. "Yeah, you let me know when and I'm there. Josh and Red can have the moose mutt for a night unless he wants to bunk with Sam again."
"Kitschy as can be, that's my motto." Tuck leans into the touch with a quiet sound of contentment.Because he'd get him something silly, but something he needed too. Maybe a giant blanket, good for snuggling under when the weather turned cool again. Or some local stones for him to fashion into charms and jewelry. Something always jumped out at him when he was away. "Careful as can be. Leaving the scary jobs to the big scary guys. Only think I might risk is carpal tunnel or eyestrain, promise."
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"He's good for Sam," Rhys agrees. "Knew he would be. And now that someone's home all the time, might think about heading down to the pound myself. Was thinking about it once I knew I'd have a yard, but, y'know. Late shifts and everything else, I wasn't sure." It didn't make sense to get a dog when he wasn't going to be home enough to take care of it, plus with the uncertainty after the attack...but now that things were a little more stable, and knowing that it would do Sam a lot of good? It was worth seriously thinking about. Rhys had always liked dogs, and even when he'd practically been living at the auto yard, he'd adopted a canny old witch of a German Shepard that he'd named Magda. There were still pictures of the two of them in his cigar box, even, a bony, half-grown, oil-streaked Rhys grinning with the dog at his feet.
Rhys sifts his fingertips through Tuck's shorter hair, before he settles back down with his head on his chest. Content, quiet. He can relax, it's okay to let himself, and he's finally starting to let himself believe that. They're okay, they have good things to look forward to, and whatever Bill brings him back, he'll be happy with, so long as he comes back safe. "Mmm. Good. I'll put a nice, long backrub on the card for when you get back, too, in that case."
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