Page 98 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Bobby could barely nod, barely think, because anytime Tom said shit like that, it stole the breath from Bobby’s lungs, his emotions clawing through him, relentless and overwhelming. “Me and you,” he echoed, unable to say anything else as his release slammed into him, and he clung to Tom, clung to the moment, the promises, the unbearable sincerity of it all as he shuddered and cried out something that sounded a lot like Tom’s name.

Shortly after—after a few minutes for their heart rates to drop back down to a safe level, a few minutes to clean up—Tom curled around him, pulled him tight, and rested his head on Bobby’s shoulder. “Think we’ll still be all over each other in ten years?”

“I think we’ll still be all over each other in fifty years.”

With a soft laugh, Tom pressed a kiss to Bobby’s neck, exhaled. “I like that,” he whispered. “Like the idea of getting old with you and being with you forever.”

“Me too.” Bobby slid his feet between Tom’s, traced his fingers over the back of Tom’s hand, up his arm, petted the soft hairs at his wrist. “Did you mean it? In the vows. When you said I’m your favorite?”

“Did you mean it when you said I’m your favorite?”

“Yeah, I really did.” Some days he didn’t know why, but God help him, he meant every word.

“So did I,” Tom whispered, pressing his nose to Bobby’s hair, inhaling like he wanted to make another memory. “I know we’ve got a lotta shit, with the kids and the foster bullshit and your job and… life. But me and you? Life together with you? I never thought I’d ever get so goddamn lucky.”

Bobby swallowed past the tightness in his throat, breathed through the sharp stitch in his chest, and laced his fingers through Tom’s. “Me too,” he whispered, bringing Tom’s hand to his lips, pressing a kiss there. “You’re the everything for me. You’re the future. My future.” Bobby let the weight of that settle over both of them, the truth of it. Tom was his future, and he was Tom’s. And that, in the end, was the reason to get married. That’s what made it special. And it wouldn’t have mattered if it was at the courthouse in jeans or a beach somewhere or his mom’s backyard. It was special and perfect and right because it was Tom. Tom and him. And it would be Tom and him until one of them died. Maybe longer.

“Yeah,” Tom whispered, nuzzling into Bobby’s hair.

Even as tired as they both were, they still didn’t sleep. Bobby didn’t want the day to end, didn’t want to close his eyes and wake up and it not still be their wedding day. Maybe Tom didn’t either. Instead, they held each other close and talked shit and teased and laughed and made some plans and wondered if it was too late to order food and then changed their minds and decided they didn’t care about eating if it meant having to move. They even argued a little because that was just part of who they were and always would be, and Bobby wouldn’t want it any other way. Because, yeah. Tom was his, and he was Tom’s, and that was all Bobby needed too.

As Long As It’s You

Timing: After Tommy and Bobby are married, after the epilogue in The Last Thing He Needs.

Author’s Note: Written for a free anthology for GRL 2015 attendees.

“Tom, is this really necessary?” Bobby looked annoyed as he sat on the padded table.

“No,” Tommy told him with a laugh. “But neither was this.” He held up his left hand to make sure Bobby could see the band shimmering under the lights.

It had taken Tommy a long time to get used to the ring. Longer than he’d expected. At first, he would sit up at night, turn it around his finger. Then, sometimes—when Bobby wasn’t around—he’d slip it off, just to let his hand feel normal again. He used any excuse he could to take it off. Showers, washing dishes, cleaning the gutters, you name it.

Then, one day, he got out of the shower and looked down, and his ring was still on his finger. Just like that, the tiny little thing was part of him. Like Bobby, the damn thing had crept up on him, annoyed him at first, and then it was something he never wanted to part with.

“That was your idea,” Bobby said. They both knew that wasn’t true. Tommy had just been the one to cave and ask. As if he could hear Tommy formulating his argument, Bobby shook his head—smiling but obviously disagreeing. “And it was necessary. If anything ever happens to—”

“We’re not talkin’ about anything happening to you.” Tommy knew all too well what could happen to Bobby, and it wasn’t something he liked to dwell on.

“Or to you,” Bobby said, trying to finish. “But, fine. We won’t talk about it—God forbid.” There was a teasing glint in Bobby’s eye, and Tommy knew he wasn’t bugged, not too badly, at least. “A tattoo, though? I’ve never been into that.”

Tommy hadn’t either, not really. But there was something about having a permanent reminder on his body—on Bobby’s body—that appealed to Tommy, even if he couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. Neither of them could lose a tattoo or take it off for a few hours, like Tommy used to do with his wedding ring. If you wanted to get rid of your ink, you had to mean it.

“Yeah, well.” Tommy didn’t have a better answer, not one he wanted to share, so he simply leaned in and kissed Bobby again, hoping to shut him up.

It didn’t work.

“And why did we have to go on a road trip to get a tattoo? I know Ben’s great and all, but there are probably dozens of artists back at home we could use. He probably could’ve recommended someone local…”

“I wanted someone who knows us. And, besides, this gave us an excuse to get away for a whole weekend.”

Bobby still looked a little skeptical, but he didn’t say anything else.

Right on cue, Ben came around the corner with a few pieces of paper in his hand. Tommy wasn’t sure, but he thought the guy had more tattoos than the last time he’d seen him. Ben towered over Bobby and him, looked intimidating as hell until you got to know him.

“Okay,” Ben said in that quiet-rough voice of his. “Before I put this on the transfer, you guys need to take a look and tell me what ya think.”

Tommy took the picture and leaned in against Bobby to look at it.

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