The Fly-Half (Lincoln Knights #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Jonny

Mason

YES OKAY I GET IT NOW. THE WALLS ARE VERY THIN!!!

I chuckled as I looked at the message, turning my phone to show Devon, who snorted and clapped his hand to his mouth, trying not to choke on his bite of strawberry cheesecake. The pair of us were sitting in bed eating two large slices left over from dinner that I’d pilfered from the fridge, making sure there was enough for Ryan to have some when he came back from work. I’d even dug some chocolate ice cream out of the freezer to go with it.

Mason hadn’t been downstairs when I’d gone down in my dressing gown, so I assumed he’d either shut himself in his room or gone to The Court to bemoan about having to listen to us to Ryan. I still didn’t know how he’d never figured it out before. We’d both been living here when West had been banging Rory, and Rory wasn’t exactly quiet.

“Maybe next time we should go back to mine,” Devon said with a smile. “Give them some privacy.”

“Don’t you have neighbours too?” I asked, scraping the last bit of my ice cream out of the bottom of the bowl.

“Yeah, but I don’t know them.” Devon chuckled. “I don’t have to look them in the eye every day when I go to work. And they won’t see me naked in the fucking shower and know exactly how I got the bruises on my thighs.”

“Fair point.” I thought for a second as I scooped up my last mouthful of cheesecake. “Do you like it, though? When I mark you up and make you mine?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s hot. I love being yours.”

I smiled and nodded, the single thought that had been lingering in my mind all evening becoming clearer with every breath. Devon was mine and I was Devon’s.

And I’d been living in oblivion for the last fuck knows how many years while I waited for the rest of me to catch up.

“Can I ask you something?” Devon asked as he put his empty bowl into his lap.

“Sure, of course.”

“Is there a reason… when we have sex… Okay, I love being spoiled and pampered by you, and I love that you seem really into it,” he said, his eyes meeting mine as he smiled softly. “But I realised I haven’t really gotten my hands on you or, like, my mouth or anything. And you haven’t really asked for me to suck your dick, and I was just wondering if that was something you wanted. Because I don’t want you to be unsatisfied, and I want you to be able to ask for what you want. I know I’m a bit of a spoilt princess, but I still love sucking cock.”

“I’m not unsatisfied,” I said, a little frown forming on my forehead. “Not at all.”

“But you know you can ask for more?”

“I know, I just don’t know what I’d ask for.” I put my hand on his thigh under the duvet, feeling the heat of his skin and the coarseness of his leg hair. “The truth is, I don’t know if I’m that fussed about getting much attention. I’d rather spend my time focusing on you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, of course. Maybe it’s just me, but I’ve never really seen the appeal in getting my dick sucked. I like sucking yours, but it’s never done anything for me. Maybe it was because it wasn’t you,” I said, shifting slightly as I tried to put my feelings into words. I didn’t want Devon to think I didn’t want his attention, but in truth I thought more about what I wanted to do to him rather than what I wanted him to do to me. “If you want to, you can, because I want you to enjoy yourself, but I’m not really fussed.”

“I don’t want to force you, though,” he said quickly, looking up at me with those beautiful big brown eyes. “I never want you to do something you’re uncomfortable with just for me.”

I leant over and cupped his jaw, drawing him in for a kiss. “You won’t, I promise.”

“As long as you’re sure.”

“I am,” I said, kissing him again and tasting chocolate on his lips. “If you want to try, you can, but I love finding ways to make you come. You’re perfect for me, angel, and I don’t want you to ever think otherwise.”

He hummed against my mouth, soft and compliant under my touch. “You spoil me.”

“You make it sound like a bad thing. Don’t you think you deserve it?”

“It’s not that,” he said, resting his head against mine. “Some guys, in the past, thought it was too much. That I wanted too much, that I couldn’t just be indulged… That I had to put them first or I was too selfish. I don’t know. They made me feel like if I wanted attention, I had to earn it, even if I know that’s not how it works.”

“You never have to think that with me. I love that you want to be pleasured and pampered.” I drew him in for another kiss, brushing my tongue over his lips. “I want to give you all of that. You can be my princess, doll, and I’ll never think less of you or make you earn it. Let me spoil you, okay? Please.”

“Okay.” He nodded, melting into me. I sat back and grabbed our empty bowls, shoving them haphazardly onto my bedside table. Then I grabbed Devon’s waist and pulled him onto my lap.

We didn’t need to talk after that.

A few days later, I finally picked up the phone to message my brother. It’d been a while since I’d spoken to him, and since Christmas was fast approaching, I figured I should actually ask if he wanted to come and visit.

Jonny

Hey, you around? Fancy a chat?

I wasn’t expecting a quick reply because Aiden always kept odd hours, especially these days with his new business, but I’d barely finished pouring myself a cup of tea before my screen flashed with an incoming video call.

“Who died?” Aiden asked as soon as I hit the green button, his face filling the screen. He looked tired, with dark circles under his blue-grey eyes and his dark blond hair scruffy and askew, stubble across his cheeks, and the start of a terrible moustache forming over his top lip like someone had stuck a piece of cheap, scrubby faux fur above his mouth.

“Evening to you too,” I said with a chuckle as I opened the fridge to get the milk out, making a mental note to pick more up tomorrow.

“Evening, and I repeat, who died?”

“Why do you think someone died?”

“Because you never call me unless someone’s dead,” Aiden said dryly, raising an eyebrow and smirking at me. He’d stepped back slightly and propped his phone up on something. I assumed he was in his kitchen given that he was wearing a stained apron and I could see a commercial bakery rack over his shoulder.

“That’s not true.”

“Yeah, want me to check my call history?”

“Fuck you,” I said, shaking my head as I finished making my tea. “Twat.”

“So, what’s up then?” Aiden asked. “You finally get picked for England?”

“Not yet. Still got my fingers crossed.”

His smile softened. “There’s still time. You’re not dead yet.”

“Thanks for the encouragement.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, grabbing a huge metal bowl from somewhere off screen and putting it down on the counter in front of him, slightly off to the side so I could still see him clearly. He gestured at the bowl. “Sorry, do you mind? I’ve got a massive order for tomorrow and I need to get the cookies prepped.”

“Knock yourself out,” I said as I leant against the kitchen counter and picked up my steaming mug. It was one Ryan had bought for Mason with a Beholder monster on it in bisexual flag colours. “It’s going well then?”

“Yeah, so far. Still not sure it’s going to last, you know? Keep expecting the rug to be pulled out from under me.”

I nodded. I understood that in some ways—where Aiden and I had been born, prospects weren’t always great, and we both knew plenty of guys we’d grown up with who’d ended up in prison. We’d been lucky to have sport as an outlet, and rugby had allowed me to flourish. And as soon as I’d met Devon, all my thoughts about what I was going to do with my life had vanished because I’d known I’d follow him anywhere. And even if we ended up on separate teams at first, I’d been determined to make sure we ended up together one day. We had trophies to win together.

“You’re doing a great job,” I said. “Everyone keeps asking me to order more from you.”

“Yeah? Well, why haven’t you?” he asked with a laugh as he scooped cookie dough onto a large pan on the counter. “Cheap bastard.”

“You just said you’re busy!”

“For tomorrow! Order more cookies, tightass.”

“Fine, I’ll message you.” I sipped my tea slowly, trying not to burn my tongue. “Maybe you could bring some up around Christmas? What are your plans?”

“Working,” he said casually. “Eating microwave nachos. Watching whatever sport I can find on telly. Maybe try and get laid since there’ll be a bunch of guys back home for Christmas looking to get away from their families for a few hours.” He grinned. “Grindr’s usually full of them.”

“Why don’t you come here then? I’ll feed you, and we were thinking of maybe going to a drag show. I can promise you live sport too, if you stay long enough. Can’t promise you’ll get laid, though. You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

There was a beat of silence as Aiden stared at me through the camera. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. We’ve got a spare room here, or you can have mine and I’ll stay with Dev.” Technically, we had a spare room we’d never filled since Guy had moved out in June. We mostly used it for storage, although Ryan had been asking if they could turn it into a drag room. It would be easy to grab a duvet and some pillows to stick on the bed that was still in there. It’d do for a couple of days.

“All right then, sounds good,” he said, his face lighting up. For all his tough-guy, don’t-need-anyone exterior, Aiden had always loved being around people, and he had a sweet, squishy centre I wished he’d let more people see. I really needed to keep in better contact and get him up here more often, if only to remind him there was at least one person on his side who cared. “I’ll look at my diary and figure out when I can come up. And yes, I’ll bring you some cookies.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know.” He smiled again. “Is that all? Because that doesn’t really seem like a reason to call me.”

I took another sip of my tea. “Er, no. I… well… Devon and I are dating.”

Aiden’s eyes widened comically as he did a double take, the ball of cookie dough he’d been holding dropping back into the bowl with an audible thud. “You’re fucking kidding me?”

“No, why would I?”

“I knew it,” he said with a triumphant jab at the camera, a victorious gleam in his eyes. “I knew you fancied him!”

“Seriously?” I asked, staring at him. “Since when?”

“Since fucking forever. Jesus Christ, Jonny, how did you not know?”

“I don’t know! But you could’ve bloody told me.”

“Yeah, like you’d have listened,” Aiden said exasperatedly. “You’d have just insisted you were only best mates, not that you used to get so bloody jealous of anyone else who wanted to be his friend.”

“I did not!”

“Yeah, and you didn’t nearly punch that kid, what the fuck was his name, that guy who tried to tell everyone Devon was his best friend? When you were fifteen.”

“Chris Jackson,” I said without a second thought. Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that in years. Not since it had happened.

“There you go,” Aiden said, his smug smile returning. “Seriously, though, I’m happy for you. Even if it’s taken you until now to figure your shit out.”

“Thanks, I think,” I said, taking a longer sip of my tea now it wasn’t going to burn my tongue. “We’re still figuring it out. Mostly because I think I’ve got some, er, protective issues to work out on the pitch.”

“Jonny, you were always gonna have those,” Aiden said as he scooped up more cookie dough, a fondness to his voice I’d not heard in a long time. “You’ve always been Devon’s shadow, and even when we were kids, you never liked the idea of him getting tackled. You got past it then, and you can do it again.”

I’d forgotten about that.

“Maybe,” I said. Then I shook my head. “Nah, you’re right. I will or I won’t have a job.”

“There you go then. But don’t be too hard on yourself, all right? Sounds like you just caught on to the fact you’ve been in love with your best mate of, what, thirteen years?”

“Fourteen.” I frowned, suddenly processing what he’d said. “Love?”

“Well, yeah,” Aiden said like it was obvious. “It’s not going to be anything else, is it?”

I stared at him, then smiled, warmth spreading across my chest, making it feel like my heart had grown three sizes. “No,” I said. “Probably not.”