Was he kidding? “We don’t talk about things on this side of the Finn family blanket, Younger. You know that. We brood and avoid committed relationships like they’re some kind of infectious disease. We laugh at our pain and act as tough and cynical as Elder wanted us to be, and God forbid we ever show him or anyone else a sign of weakness.”
“He used to hit Solomon.” James had a quiet voice, but it filled the whole room like the ring of a bell. “When I did something wrong, if it was a weekend and he was sneaking a drink or two? He’d hit Solomon for not doing his job as my older brother. Then he’d hit me for good measure, because I looked like my mother instead of him. Devil-green eyes,” he pointed out grimly.
Rory rubbed his temples, feeling claustrophobic. “No. He always talked about you. Bragged about the two of you.”
James shrugged. “And yet, no matter how hard Younger tried to protect us from it and distract the old man, every one of us felt Sol’s belt. You weren’t the only one. Just the last.”
Rory looked down, knowing he’d inspired his father to more creative extremes when it came to punishments. Knowing there was no way to talk to them about it. “Thank God he didn’t marry again, I guess.”
“You can talk to us, Rory.” Younger’s voice was careful but he could hear the concern. “You can. James isn’t trying to be dismissive.”
James sent a sharp look to Younger. “Of course I’m not.” He turned toward Rory. “I meant you aren’t alone. None of us have to stand here and pretend he didn’t fuck us up just because his name is Finn and he’s in the hospital. We’d be hypocrites if we did.”
“Thanks. I know what you meant.” Rory forced his feet to move until he reached the door. “We’ll talk later. I’m going back to Jen’s now. Call me if you need me.”
He was shaking by the time he turned the truck’s ignition. He drove back on autopilot, haunted by images of his father’s twisted face on that hospital bed.
Rory could have helped more. Explained to the family what was going on, ignored the old man’s screeching and made sure he was comfortable. But he hadn’t even looked at his father’s chart. He’d done the bare minimum for his brothers. His uncle. And then he’d run away.
When he opened the front door, Duck and Goose were dancing around him as if he’d been gone a year, the smells in the house made his stomach growl and he could hear Rig and David talking animatedly in the kitchen.
They were still here. And because of that, it felt like home.
Neither of them said a word when he joined them, but they pulled him into their arms and held him as if he were something precious. He closed his eyes against the tenderness their touch evoked inside him. The need. This. This was what he’d always craved. Who he’d always needed.
And any minute it could all be taken away.
Rig fed him from several pans filled with more Rigatelli family leftovers and the three of them sat in the living room watching television as if nothing were wrong. Nothing had changed.
His head was on David’s lap, David’s hands stroking his hair, and Rory reveled in each caress. He wanted to stop thinking. He wanted to enjoy the moment. He needed…
“What are you doing?” David asked when Rory lowered himself to the floor between his legs and reached for the tie on his sweatpants.
“It’s my turn. I need to taste you.”
He tossed the pants away, his eyes on David’s growing erection as he licked his lips. “Can I?”
“Please,” David said, softly moaning in anticipation. “I’ve needed your mouth on me all day.”
Perfect. Everything they said was perfect. Everything they did.
“You coming, Rig?” Rory asked without glancing over his shoulder.
Rig’s laugh was devilish. “I hope so. But you’ll need to let me use my tongue for that to happen.”
Yes.
The three of them stripped in silence and then Rory was reaching for David’s heavy flesh. “I love your cock.”
“You’ve mentioned that before.” David sounded amused. “Show me how much, Roar.”
His mouth was watering. He needed this. To lose himself in them. To be touched. Loved. He shuddered as Rig rubbed the tension out of his back and kissed his shoulder.
“Thank you for staying,” he whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure either of them could hear.
Rig kissed him again, watching as Rory started licking David’s smooth, salty shaft. God, it tasted so good. Better than dinner. Warm, willing David. Best dessert in the world.
“That’s a beautiful thing,” Rig said over his shoulder. “I’d join you, but I have an ass to attend to. One I’ve been dying to get back under my tongue for a while now.”