Page 82 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

“Why?” Bobby asked after an impossibly long pause.

Tommy narrowed his eyes. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Not even a little, Tom. Why? Why get married? Just to stop me bitching? Just so we’ll have something new and different to fight about?” Bobby was using his let’s think this through rationally voice, like he really was curious. It made it easier for Tommy to answer.

“No,” he said softly. “Not any of those reasons.” After a beat, Tommy added, “Well, getting you to stop bitching might be a bonus, but that ain’t why.”

He got a half-smile from Bobby for that. Tommy cleared his throat before saying anything else. “You’re right, okay?” How many times had he said those three little words since he met Bobby? More than he could count. “I act like I’m always waiting for you to find an emergency exit because… I am always waiting for that. You deserve better than me, Bobby, and I’ll probably always wonder when you’re gonna figure that out.”

“Tom, don’t—”

“For once in your life, could you just shut the fuck up?” Tommy smiled as he said the words, took the sting out of them by laying his hand on Bobby’s chest and giving him a gentle push back onto the bed. He had to think for a moment before he could say anything else. Tommy wasn’t used to having to put everything into words the way Bobby needed him to. Once in a while, sure. But Bobby seemed to need it more and more lately, and maybe that was part of the problem. “We’re raising seven kids together. We live together. We cook meals together, solve problems together, worry together, laugh together. We fight together… and even through all the bullshit, I’m still here, and so are you.” Tommy paused—to give himself a chance to think, but mostly to see Bobby’s face, check his reaction. It didn’t help much. Bobby was listening intently, but he wasn’t giving anything away.

Maybe he waited too long to go on. Into the quiet of their bedroom, Bobby said, “So… neither of us has given up on the other, so we might as well get married?”

Considering that Bobby had brought the subject up at least twice in as many months, he was sure as hell making it difficult for Tommy now. “More like neither of us ever will, so we might as well be done with it and get married.” Tommy probably could’ve made it sound better, but it was too late to start over. After another long pause, Tommy added, “Christ, I’m no good at this shit, Bobby. Could ya cut me a little slack here?”

Bobby shifted on the bed, moved back a little, an invitation for Tommy to join him. Instead, Tommy stayed on his knees as Bobby said, “You really do suck at this.” He laughed, though, so Tommy figured they were out of the woods. “You wanna know why I want to marry you?”

Tommy knew. “You already said. It’ll be easier if anything ever happens to one of us, or if we decide to adopt the twins, or—” He stopped talking as Bobby shook his head.

“Those are the reason I told you because I thought I’d have a better chance of making you think about it.”

“Okay. You gonna tell me the real reason?”

“Well,” Bobby said as he trailed a fingertip down Tommy’s shoulder. He dropped his voice to a whisper and added, “Those are all real reasons too, but not the ones that matter.”

“What’re the ones that matter?” Maybe it was a stupid question, maybe if Tommy thought about it for even a second, he’d have known what Bobby was getting at. Mostly he just wanted to hear Bobby’s voice, gentle and warm, no longer angry, inviting—the sound of home. He wanted Bobby to keep touching him, keep talking to him.

“I love you,” Bobby whispered. “That’s not going to change. Not in a week, or a few months, or a few decades. I’ll love you when we’re old, when we’re wrinkled and flabby and can barely remember our own names. I’ll still be here with you—not because I just haven’t given up, but because I love you and… I don’t want to be here without you.” Bobby paused for a beat, which was a good thing because Tommy couldn’t even breathe. “And that’s why people get married.” Bobby let out a small breath, caught Tommy’s eye. “Well. That’s the reason I want to marry you, anyway.”

Tommy’s mouth had gone dry sometime between asking for an answer and listening to it. He swallowed slowly, ran the tip of his tongue over his lips before he whispered, “That’s a pretty good reason.”

“I thought so,” Bobby told him in that soft, half-teasing tone he used when he was in a good mood and looking to get laid.

Leaning in close, Tommy ran his hand up Bobby’s chest and smoothed his fingers over a wrinkle in Bobby’s T-shirt. Which really was a sign of how pissed off Bobby had been when he went to bed. The only time either of them did that was when they were sick. “So we’re gonna do this?” Tommy asked before he brushed a light kiss against Bobby’s mouth.

Bobby grinned against Tommy’s lips and whispered, “Do what?” He slipped his hand lower, dipped his fingers into Tommy’s jeans as he spoke.

“Get married, asshole,” Tommy said, his voice catching in the back of his throat as his cock started to harden.

“Ask me again.” Bobby ran his fingertips over the head of Tommy’s erection, teasingly light, cruel. The bastard.

“Will ya marry me, Bobby?” The words sounded more like a demand, a growl as Tommy shifted his hips to get closer. He wasn’t even on the damn bed yet.

Bobby pulled at Tommy’s clothes, fought with the buttons on Tommy’s jeans, even as he pressed his forehead to Tommy’s and whispered, “Yeah, I’ll marry ya, Tom.”

Tommy shifted over him, pushed the sheets back farther until he was on top of Bobby. They fumbled with their clothes for a long minute, pulling at fabric, trying to get to skin. When they were finally pressed naked together, Bobby threaded his fingers into Tommy’s hair and pulled him in for a rough kiss. He grazed his teeth over Tommy’s lips and bit down gently as Tommy rolled his hips against him, their cocks slick and hard between them.

When Tommy tried to pull back, wanting to reach for the lube, Bobby clung to him, held him tighter. “Just like this, Tom,” he whispered. He hitched his legs higher around Tommy’s waist and rocked so hard against Tommy he could only nod in response.

They moved together for long minutes as Tommy buried his face against Bobby’s neck, inhaled deep before kissing him there. He got a groan out of Bobby then and did it again, skimmed his hand down Bobby’s side and under his ass so he could press them tighter together. “Love you so goddamn much, Bobby,” he whispered, his voice rough, full of need.

“I know,” Bobby muttered, as if he couldn’t think clearly enough for a better response.

Bobby’s hands on Tommy’s skin made Tommy move faster, grind harder against him as their bodies slicked with sweat, their cocks rubbing together with every move. He could hear Bobby’s breath catch, feel Bobby’s muscles tense. He knew Bobby was close, so he pulled back just a bit, just enough to get a whimper from Bobby.

“Asshole,” Bobby whispered, the single word a hot pant against Tommy’s skin.

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