All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Chapter Fifteen

Bobby drove while Tommy tried to collect his thoughts. “Tell me again, slowly,” he said. “Because I’m pretty sure I heard you wrong the first time.”

They were headed for a hospital on the other side of town. Bobby laughed before answering. “He checked himself into rehab six weeks ago.”

“See,” Tommy started to explain. “It’s not the rehab that throws me, ’cause he’s been tossed in there more than once. It’s the part where he checked himself in. Are you sure about that?”

“That’s what they said.”

Tommy couldn’t fit that piece of information into his world, so he tried to set it aside. “And he wants to see me?”

Bobby nodded, but he kept his eyes on the road.

The whole situation felt surreal. “Does he know about Cheryl?”

Tommy could hear the catch of Bobby’s breath at the mention of her name. Bobby even mourned for people like Cheryl.

“I have no idea, Tom,” Bobby said quietly. He glanced at Tommy before looking back at the road. “You might have to tell him yourself.” After a long pause, he added in a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

He didn’t know if Bobby was offering condolences or if he was simply sorry because Tommy would have to break the news to Cal. Either way, Tommy didn’t know what to say.

The silence stretched between them for a long moment before Bobby asked, “You okay?”

“I have no idea.” It was the only honest answer he had.

When they pulled up in front of the hospital a few minutes later, Bobby found a parking spot. “You ready for this?”

Tommy let out a sour laugh. “No.” But he got out of the car.

It took them a few minutes to find the right floor and get checked in as visitors. Bobby said he’d stay in the waiting room and let Tommy have some privacy with his father.

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Tommy’s tone was joking, but he seriously wondered if he should be alone with Cal.

Bobby put his arms over Tommy’s shoulders and kissed him. “I’m sure. There’s a security guard in there.”

Tommy pulled back and turned for the door when the nurse buzzed him through. “Just my luck.”

Cal looked better than Tommy had ever seen him. He was clean, his face was shaved, and he looked like he knew where he was. He had been sitting at a table, but he stood up when he saw Tommy. “Hi, Son.”

For a moment it looked like Cal was going to reach out to shake Tommy’s hand, but he stopped the motion with a jerk and sat back down when Tommy glared at him.

“You’re alive.” It was the only thing that came to mind, so Tommy said it.

Cal knocked his fingers on the table, like he’d found a new nervous habit. “That I am,” he said. “Those words have never been truer.”

Tommy had no response for that, so he asked, “Did you hear about Cheryl?”

Cal looked down at his hands and folded them neatly on the table over a small stack of envelopes. Tommy didn’t bother to ask what they were about as he waited for an answer. “I did, yeah.” After a pause, Cal added, “I need to make some kind of arrangements, but I’m not really in the right frame of mind for it.”

Tommy could identify, but probably for different reasons. He’d only spared a few minutes to think about Cheryl since it all happened. He knew he needed to do something for her, but he had no idea what. Two years ago, he might have simply walked away from it altogether, but now that it was real and she was gone, Tommy felt like the family should have a memorial for her, bury her, something. She had given them Max and Zoe, and even if that was the only good thing she did with her entire life, it was worth acknowledging.

“We’ll sort it out for her,” Tommy told his father. The words were prickly in his mouth. His father should be the one to do it, to make the effort, and to grieve her death, but just like everything else, Tommy would have to do that for Cal too.

Cal examined his fingertips for a long minute. “Thank you, Son.” He was silent for so long, Tommy thought that might be it. He was considering getting up when Cal spoke again. “I’m still not sure how I feel about… her death. I need to work on that in group a little, I think.”

Tommy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He hadn’t asked how his father felt, and frankly, at that moment Tommy didn’t give a damn. “You’ve been in here six weeks?” he asked instead.

“Yeah.” Cal nodded and looked Tommy in the eye. “After Christmas, I…. That night, when you found us trying to….”

“Steal from your children?” Tommy provided acidly.

Cal nodded again. “Yes, that.” He could see his father swallow hard, like the memory was painful, but Tommy didn’t want to think about how difficult this was for him. “It was, well, they keep calling it a moment of clarity, and that’s the most accurate way I can describe it.”

“Cheryl said it’d only been a few days since she’d seen you.”

“Well, you know she could… lose track of time.”

“Yeah, meth can do that to a girl.” Maybe he was an asshole for saying that, but Tommy didn’t care.

Cal bit his lips together and looked away from Tommy. “It can,” he agreed before looking back at him. He finally asked, “How are the kids?”

Tommy could feel his temper rising. “Oh, you remember them?”

“I do,” Cal whispered. “Do they have a place to stay? Was anyone hurt?”

“It’s real good of ya to ask after them and all, but don’t give it another thought, all right, Pop?” Tommy spat the words at his father. “They’re doin’ just fine. We’ve always done fine on our own.” It wasn’t the six weeks Cal had been missing that was pissing Tommy off. It was over twenty years of his bullshit pushing Tommy over the edge. He was still trying to figure out if the rehab thing was for real or if his father had discovered a way to steal prescription pads or get loaded up with methadone or some other scam. Tommy’s money was on the scam, but he didn’t say it. “Why’d you wanna see me, Pop?”

It looked to Tommy like this was the part Cal had been dreading. He took a moment to respond.

“I wanted you to know I was here, and I wanted you to know that it was because I wanted to be. Or, well, because I need to be.”

Cal stopped there, maybe waiting for Tommy to say something. But what could Tommy say? Great job, only twenty years too late. Go you.

When Tommy only looked at him, Cal said, “One of my steps is to make amends.” He fidgeted with the envelopes in front of him.

Tommy couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped out. One day years later, maybe he would feel guilty about it, but not then.

“I know I can’t make up for what I’ve done or change anything now, but I wanted you to know I’m trying.”

“Trying to what?” Tommy asked, feeling bitterness and anger roil in his blood. “Trying to apologize? Trying to tell me you’re sorry and you wish you could take it all back?”

Cal sat there, looking like he was thinking long and hard about something. “I do wish that. But that’s not what this is about.”

“Then what?”

“Look, Son, I know I haven’t got any right to ask you this, but… I’ve written letters for you and the kids and I was hoping you might give them to them. Or at least read yours.”

Tommy had to inhale slowly to keep from throwing himself across the table at his father. “Look, Pop. Tell ya what. If you’re still clean and sober in a year, if you’ve got your shit together by then, got a real job, stayed outta jail and off the streets…. If you still wanna make amends… you look us up and bring the letters yourself.” He stood up and leaned over the table, his voice thick with rage as he whispered, “But I swear to God, if you try to fuck up what the kids have now, if you do something crazy like try to get custody back, I’ll sign my own confession in your blood over your dead body. You hear me, old man?”

Bobby hadn’t been kidding about the security guard in there. He seemed to take notice when Tommy moved. He stepped closer when things got more heated. But Tommy backed away. He looked at the guard and said, “I’m done here.”

He didn’t even glance at his father as he stalked toward the door and waited for the nurse on the other side to let him out.

Bobby had been waiting for him when he got to the lobby, but he didn’t say anything to Tommy. Probably because Tommy was muttering to himself and walking fast on his way to the exit.

When they got outside, Bobby finally asked, “Didn’t go well, I take it?”

Tommy was patting down his jacket pockets, praying there was one cigarette left. Clearly, finding out the kids were okay and that Bobby was probably going to keep him around a little longer was the last bit of luck Tommy was going to get for a while. His pockets were empty.

“You know, some stupid part of me had thought for one minute on the way over here that maybe—just maybe—he’d pulled himself together and he was actually going to stand up and take responsibility.” Tommy stood in front of the hospital, pointing at the doors. “But that? That’s the last fucking thing I need.”

He turned to walk toward the car and Bobby followed. Tommy was still growling. “All I need is for him to get it together just long enough to fuck up our world again and then ya know what’ll happen?” Tommy looked at Bobby but he kept talking over anything Bobby might have said. “He’ll derail again and drag us all into the ditch with him.”

Bobby unlocked the car and waited for Tommy to duck inside before he did the same. He started the car, and as if he had been waiting to make sure Tommy was done, he finally asked, “What did he want?”

“He wanted to make amends.” Tommy filled each word with as much contempt as they would hold. When Bobby didn’t say anything, he went on. “He wrote us letters, ya see. But did he have the balls to hand ’em out himself? No. He wanted me to do it for him. Just like every other goddamn thing in his life.”

Bobby pulled out of the parking lot. “I’m guessing you told him to go fuck himself?”

“You think I shouldn’t have?”

“I didn’t say that, Tom.”

“I told him that if he got his shit together and stayed clean for a year, he could look us up and give them to us himself.”

As Bobby pulled onto the freeway heading back to Judy’s house, he said, “That’s not an unreasonable request, Tom. Your father has a lot to face, both in himself and with his family. You telling him he needs to prove himself for more than a few weeks in a locked-down facility isn’t unfair.”

“I don’t give a shit if it’s fair or not.”

“Given what you’ve been through with him,” Bobby said with a small breath of a laugh. “I’d say that’s pretty fair too.”

Tommy didn’t tell Bobby what his parting message for Cal had been. He decided there were still some things Bobby simply didn’t need to know.

They didn’t say much the rest of the way home. Tommy was glad for the peace until he remembered Bobby’s words earlier. We need to talk. When they pulled in to the driveway, Tommy decided it was best to get it all over with in one day. He turned to Bobby. “You still need to talk?”

Bobby turned the car off and looked at him. “I do, but it can wait until later.”

“Nah,” Tommy said as he got out of the car. When Bobby stepped out, Tommy continued. “Let’s just get it all out in the open today, okay?”

If Bobby disagreed, he didn’t say so. Instead of going to Judy’s front door, he led Tommy to the door on the side of the garage and let them both in to his apartment. It seemed smaller and less friendly to Tommy than it had before. He was hoping that was just his imagination. He wondered if Bobby had changed his mind about Tommy moving in with him. He wondered if Bobby had changed his mind about him in general.

He watched as Bobby kicked off his shoes and set his keys down on the kitchenette counter. When Bobby walked around the couch to the makeshift bedroom, Tommy followed him.

Bobby stretched out on the bed with a pillow under his head, and he smiled at Tommy.

“Is ‘talking’ the new euphemism?” Tommy asked. “Because I don’t mind talking so much if it is.”

“It’s not,” Bobby told him with a laugh. “The last two days I’ve been worried out of my mind, then I was pissed off, and then I just plain missed you.”

Tommy bent down to untie his boots and then crawled over the bed to where Bobby was waiting for him.

They shifted and stirred and moved together until they were both in a comfortable position. Bobby was on his back, and Tommy’s head was on his chest. Bobby had snagged a throw blanket from somewhere and draped it over them. Tommy wished he could take a nap, but that wasn’t why they were here either. “This was your idea,” Tommy said. “Talk, copper.”

Bobby ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair and was quiet for a minute before he asked, “How do you feel about me, Tom?”

Tommy lifted his head and looked at Bobby. “We’re goin’ on a year here, and you still feel like you need to ask me that?”

“I do, yeah.”

For some reason, hearing Bobby say those words hurt deep inside in a place Tommy didn’t even know existed.

Bobby went on. “I know you love me, but…. I want a partner, and I need to know if you do too.”

He probably shouldn’t have taken so long to respond. He could sense Bobby getting nervous while he waited, but this was an answer Tommy had to get right. He knew what the word “partner” meant to Bobby. He was a cop. It meant more than just someone you share your life with. He depended on his partner to watch his back and keep him safe, to take a bullet for him if it came down to it. Tommy figured, to Bobby, a partner was the guy who was always there for you, who would listen to you and take your advice and get you out of a tough situation. A partner was the guy who let it go both ways. Give and take. Tommy sucked at give and take, and they both knew it.

He must have taken too long, because Bobby said, “I don’t want to just be the guy you fuck and ‘oh by the way’ love.”

Tommy knew that. He cleared his throat and said carefully, “I want you to be it for me, okay?” Bobby only looked at him. “I want a partner too, but,” Tommy paused there and then said softly, “I need you to teach me how.”

He didn’t actually say the word “help,” but it was close enough, and Tommy could feel the sting of fear rise up with his words.

Bobby tightened his fingers in Tommy’s hair and pulled him closer. “I can do that,” he whispered.

The kiss they shared then was long, almost painfully tender. When Tommy pulled back, he could feel his blood flushing over the surface of his skin. He was breathless and suddenly needy, and he hoped the conversation was over.

Bobby seemed to agree. He rolled himself over Tommy and spread his legs so they could grind their hips together. Tommy’s breath caught on a gasp when Bobby slipped his hands under his shirt and started to push it up over his head. They were moving roughly, trying to get through the layers of clothes, shed their jeans, and nothing was going quick enough for Tommy. He wanted Bobby like he wanted air. It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, an instinct running so deep inside him it felt primal.

Once they discarded their clothes and Tommy could finally touch Bobby’s skin, he spent long minutes trailing his fingers over every inch. He kissed Bobby’s arm where the small scar still looked pink and livid after more than five months. He traced every curve, every sharp angle of Bobby’s body, like he was memorizing him, mapping out every muscle.

Tommy let his eyes slide shut as they explored each other, gasping when Bobby scraped his teeth against Tommy’s throat.

Bobby interrupted the greedy touches and small whimpers. “Have you been tested lately?”

Tommy nearly told him his entire life was a test, but he knew what Bobby meant. “About a month ago.” HIV tests were one of the few things that were actually free at the clinic. “You?”

“Every three months, like clockwork.” That didn’t surprise Tommy at all.

Bobby was quiet for another moment. Tommy’s blood was thrumming through his veins at the speed of light. He wanted to stop talking again. Bobby looked like he was about to ask a question he didn’t want to know the answer to. Tommy nearly stopped him, but instead he let Bobby ask, “Been with anyone else?”

Tommy searched his eyes for a beat. He wanted to tell Bobby what a stupid question that was, but he knew Bobby was asking for more than the obvious reasons. Tommy whispered, “I haven’t touched anyone else since the first time I touched you.”

“Good.” Bobby’s lips were tender as they brushed against Tommy’s with the word.

He didn’t say anything else, but Tommy didn’t care. He knew it was the same for Bobby, and he didn’t need to hear the words to be sure.

When Bobby pulled away and reached into the nightstand, he didn’t get a condom, only the bottle of lube. He moved closer, kissed Tommy again, and simply asked, “Okay?”

That seemed like a bigger commitment than anything else they’d done. Moving in together, putting up with each other’s bullshit, even Bobby helping him raise the kids didn’t seem as big of a commitment comparatively. Bobby was ready to trust Tommy with his life and his health and his future, and he wanted to make sure Tommy was ready to do the same.

“Okay,” Tommy whispered in response. One question, one answer, one word from each of them, and it was settled.

There was no going back.

They took their time with tender strokes and slick fingers. Tommy’s erection was aching, precome glistening against the head, as Bobby straddled his hips again. He lowered himself slowly and looked intently into Tommy’s face as he gasped and groaned and rocked his way down on Tommy’s cock.

It always felt amazing with Bobby. Even a quick hand job in the bathroom at four in the morning felt amazing with him. But that night, looking up into Bobby’s flushed face, looking into his eyes for maybe the first time when they were together, Tommy understood in one fraction of a heartbeat every love song he’d ever heard, every dream he was afraid to have, every memory of anything good that had ever happened to him. It was all wrapped up in Bobby. He was the music, he was the dream, he was the love, and… he was the hope.

Tommy O’Shea finally understood.

They moved together slowly at first, almost silently, as if they were both having their own revelations. Tommy ran his hand up Bobby’s chest, wrapped his fingers around the back of Bobby’s neck, and pulled him down close, wanting to taste him. When Bobby followed for him and leaned down, he brushed his lips against Tommy’s and whispered, “I love you, Tom.”

Some new space opened up inside Tommy then. They’d said those words to each other dozens of times, but then, in that moment, it felt like someone turned on a light inside of him. “I love you too, Bobby.”

He grinned, and Bobby laughed before he kissed Tommy again and sat up. He started to ride Tommy like he meant it, like he couldn’t do anything else.

Tommy gripped Bobby’s hip with fingertips biting in against the muscles and ran his other hand down Bobby’s body. He wrapped his fingers around Bobby’s cock and started to stroke him with a firm, sure grip. They knew how to drive each other to the edge, and after a few moments, it felt like they were racing each other. Bobby fell harder and faster, slamming down on Tommy, taking him deep inside with every motion, and Tommy’s hand slicked with more urgency over Bobby’s cock.

Before long Tommy was lifting his hips in sharp thrusts, meeting every move Bobby made. When Bobby groaned in the back of his throat and his hips started to jerk, Tommy knew how close he was. Bobby spilled hot across Tommy’s chest, up his neck. Tommy let out a ragged cry then, muttering Bobby’s name as he came hard, buried deep inside Bobby.

Tommy’s breath was rushing out in hard pants when Bobby fell down over him. Bobby pressed his face against Tommy’s neck, and Tommy could feel the quick, out-of-rhythm beat of Bobby’s heart against his own. He trailed his fingers down Bobby’s spine, traced the pattern of each vertebra as they recovered together.

“I just realized something,” Tommy whispered, his voice rough, husky. When Bobby lifted his head, he looked curious. “I get to sleep a whole night with you. Beginning to end.” He added with a laugh, “Hell, I get to sleep all my nights with you now.”

Bobby grinned. He leaned close, caught Tommy’s bottom lip in his teeth, and then kissed him. “Well, I’m on first shift tomorrow. Gotta leave pretty early.”

Tommy considered that for a minute. He liked the idea of watching Bobby get ready for work in the early morning, maybe getting up and having a cup of coffee with him. “You’ll have to get ready early.”

“Why?”

“So you’ll have time to get dressed again after I undress you,” Tommy told him with a smirk and a pat on Bobby’s bare ass.

Epilogue

The stadium was crowded and hot, and the twins were getting restless. They were almost four years old, and they’d run out of Goldfish crackers and had gotten tired of playing with Bobby’s phone. Thankfully, the graduating seniors were walking in and taking their seats.

They’d landed pretty good spots, considering the size of the place, but Tommy was still searching for Mike amid the sea of dark blue gowns and red tassels.

“Do you see him?” Zoe asked. She rose up on her knees between him and Bobby to get a better look. Max did the same. He leaned his little arm on Bobby’s shoulder and peered out at the crowd.

Cal was sitting on the other side of Tommy, and he said, “I think that’s him, Zoe. He’s in the fourth row from the front.”

Judy was next to Gene. She was taking pictures like a mad photographer while Carrie, Colleen, Davey, and Collin talked quietly among themselves.

Their family had been through hell and back, and days like today reminded Tommy of how lucky they really were. They never had made the big decision about what to do with the kids, but they were all still in Judy’s care, on paper at least. Tommy still acted like their father and so did Bobby, for that matter. They’d tied the knot the year before. Tommy had never figured himself for marriage, but he’d never figured on anyone like Bobby either, so that was okay.

Cal had turned up on their doorstep, almost exactly one year after Tommy had visited him in rehab. He had the letters with him. It wasn’t a magical cure. It didn’t wipe away the years of pain and frustration Cal had created, but even at the time, Tommy had to give him credit for showing up at all.

He still didn’t trust his father and probably never would, but he let Cal have supervised visits with the kids just about any time he wanted. He even invited Cal over for family barbeques and holidays. Though the first time had been mostly Judy’s idea.

Colleen was working on her Associate’s Degree at the community college, and Mike surprised the hell out of them all when he earned himself a scholarship to Berkeley. It was out of state, and just getting him there was going to be a very expensive pain in the ass. Tommy hated to see him go so far from home, but when Mike had said he was going to turn it down so he could stay with the family, Tommy had nearly kicked him out the door. It was only four years. They could take it.

Carrie and Davey were both taking AP classes in high school. Tommy was so proud of them it hurt.

Collin was doing just as well in junior high. He stayed after school two days a week to help tutor kids with learning disabilities. Who knew?

With Max and Zoe starting preschool in the fall, Tommy was trying to decide what to do with himself. Gene had told him if he took a few business classes, he’d offer Tommy the manager job, maybe take him on as a partner. Gene said he was getting old and he had no one to pass his baby to. Tommy didn’t know if he wanted to work at Smarty’s the rest of his life, but he knew part of him would always belong to that place, just like part of him would always belong to the kids and Bobby. When he thought about it, he kind of liked the idea of being there, maybe doing for someone what Gene had done for him. He’d talk it over with Bobby sometime soon and see what he thought.

Their lives weren’t perfect. Their family wasn’t perfect. Just like Max and Zoe’s winter clothes, not so long ago, their family was a tapestry of patches and cheap thread. Parts of the pattern were too ugly to look at, and some parts were so beautiful they could bring tears to your eyes. They were all wading through the rocky waters of life and forgiveness and hope together, with only a few bumps and scrapes along the way.

Tommy figured that was exactly how it should be.

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Books By J.H. Knight

Wrapped in Wishes

The Words We've Never Said

Ben he was making up for a lot of lost years. “Oh, before I forget,” Tommy said loudly so everyone could hear. He pulled out a piece of paper from his back pocket and handed it to Davey. “Here’s my list. One of everything should do.”

Davey looked at it and laughed. “A trip to Mexico. I’ll get right on that, Tommy.”

Tommy had put everything he could think of on that stupid list. Cologne that some salesgirl had sprayed on him because Bobby smelled him all afternoon after that. A new wallet. More pictures of the kids. Handprints from Max and Zoe. Small stuff the kids could do for free and big stuff he knew he wouldn’t get, but what the hell. He was trying to lead by example. “Well, someone told me I should dream big. I bet I could dream up something big on a beach.”

Colleen snatched the list out of Davey’s hand, and Mike leaned over her shoulder to read it with her. Only the babies were still interested in the pile of presents under the tree. Jesus.

Bobby took a deep breath against Tommy’s neck and whispered, “I’m going to need to see your ID. You’re doing a piss-poor impersonation of my Tom.”

Tommy laughed and turned in Bobby’s arms. “Oh, I’m still yours. It’s not my fault your mother is right every damn time I turn around.”

“You should say that louder so she can hear,” Bobby laughed softly and kissed Tommy again before going on. “Then we wouldn’t have to buy her something for Christmas.”

Tommy couldn’t help but grin. “I already got her somethin’.”

“You gonna tell me what it is?”

“Nah, you can wait until Christmas, but you can have one of yours now.” He pulled Bobby away from the kids, into the kitchen. On the counter was a little box wrapped in red foil with a glittery green bow on top. Presentation was becoming a priority to Tommy. Who knew?

Bobby shook it and then ripped the paper off in one quick motion. So much for presentation.

He didn’t say anything at first, just stared. Finally, one word came out of Bobby’s mouth. “Bullshit.” He looked like he didn’t believe it, but he was grinning, his eyes bright with obvious emotion.

Tommy had never been hugged so hard in his life. “I take it that’s the right one?”

“Yeah it is,” Bobby whispered. He held the ornament in his hand against Tommy’s back, and Tommy wondered if Bobby was still looking at it over his shoulder. “This means a lot to me, Tom.” The tough cop was sniffling, for Christ’s sake.

“I can tell.” Maybe Tommy sniffled a little himself.

He really did have everything he needed, right there in his arms. Maybe Bobby did too.

Tommy decided he’d tell Bobby about Collin’s puppy later.

Christmas Day

Judy had disappeared into the kitchen, putting together a tray of food—real food, not the candy and shit the kids had for breakfast because they opened their stockings at the asscrack of dawn—and Bobby was curled around Tommy on the couch, watching Max and Zoe play with the dollhouse Santa had left them.

Carrie sat on the floor with the art set Bobby had gotten her, sketching the Christmas tree. Mike and Collin were off setting up the Xbox while Davey played with his new iPad, loading music and games and whatever the hell else.

In truth, Tommy hadn’t known what to get Colleen. Everything he could think of had seemed impersonal somehow. New clothes? She had a couple of nice outfits and plenty of everyday wear. Camera? The phone Judy had given her for her last birthday was a music player, camera, and e-reader, all rolled into one. She could surf the web on it and do just about everything she could on a computer, maybe even more.

For some reason, nothing he could think of was good enough for Colleen.

He’d gotten so frustrated he’d even broken down and called Wyatt—or Earp as Tommy had named him. Wyatt put up with Tommy and the rest of them, but he hated the nickname, which made Tommy laugh to himself every time he thought of the little bastard.

Wyatt hadn’t been much help (What the hell did Colleen see in him?), so eventually, Tommy had found himself standing in front of a jewelry counter, his eyes glazing over as he looked at all the shiny trinkets. His heart nearly stopped when he saw the price tag on a necklace he was thinking of getting her.

In the end, he thought he’d made the right choice, though. When Colleen opened her present and found a little silver bracelet with a heart charm hanging from it, she’d told him how pretty it was. When she turned the heart over and saw the inscription Tommy had paid extra for, she burst into tears. Be good to yourself, it said. Because, really, that was Tommy’s wish for Colleen. He’d hugged her close and whispered in her ear, “That’s what I want for Christmas, Col.” She sniffled and nodded and promised him she’d try to remember.

Davey and Mike had played a video they had made for Judy. Dozens of family photos from the last year scrolled across the screen while Flogging Molly belted out “The Cradle of Humankind.” When Tommy asked Mike why that song, Mike simply shrugged. After a moment of thought, he said, “It’s about being pinned down and broken and lost and then finding… hope.”

As anthems went, that one was pretty goddamn fitting. Judy must have thought so too. She bawled through the whole video and then hugged Mike and Davey within an inch of their lives.

The whole morning went like that. Smiles and tears, laughter. The twins cracked everyone up when Max put on Zoe’s dress-up gear, and Zoe chased him through the living room with the big dump truck he’d gotten.

Collin’s puppy had been the star of the show, though. That damn dog was gonna have the best life any mutt could ask for. He still didn’t have a name, but Collin was leaning toward Baxter. Or maybe Brutus.

Bobby tightened his arm around Tommy and said to Colleen, “Could you pass me that envelope from the mantel, Col?”

She nodded and hopped up from her spot on the floor where she had been playing with the twins.

When she handed it to Bobby, he passed it to Tommy. “One more present.”

Curious, Tommy held it for a beat. Bobby had a strange look on his face, like he was excited but also constructing an argument in his head, figuring out how to counter whatever protest Tommy might come up with. He looked that way a lot around Tommy.

“For Christ’s sake, Tom, just open it.”

Tommy snorted a laugh and tore it open. A thick, glossy travel brochure fell into his lap. When he picked it up, Tommy could see crystal-blue waters and white sand. Big letters across the top proclaimed: Cancún! Your Vacation Destination!

Good to know the smart-ass still had a sense of humor. “Not bad, copper.”

Bobby kissed Tommy’s temple and whispered in his ear, “Five days. February. You and me. You have just enough time to get your passport if you go tomorrow.” He punctuated each word with another kiss.

It took Tommy a moment to catch up with what Bobby was saying, but when he opened the pamphlet, Tommy realized he wasn’t just holding a brochure. Tucked inside were two plane tickets. “The hell?”

Bobby shrugged. “It was on your list.”

Maybe it was just a knee-jerk reaction, but Tommy said, “We can’t afford somethin’ like this. Especially not after all this,” he’d whispered, not wanting the kids to hear.

Unfazed, of course, Bobby told him, “You’d be surprised how affordable it is.” When Tommy started to argue again, Bobby actually put his hand over Tommy’s mouth. “I’ve talked to Gene to make sure he could cover your shifts. I’ve put in for some vacation days. The only thing you have to do is shut the hell up, get a passport, and pack a bag when the time comes.” He still hadn’t dropped his hand. “Okay?” Bobby waited for Tommy to nod. When he did, Bobby slid his hand from Tommy’s mouth and tangled his fingers into his hair. “I love you, you stubborn asshole.”

What more was there to say? Tommy didn’t bother. He fell on Bobby like his life depended on it, kissed him hard and long.

Davey laughed from somewhere behind them. “Get a room.”

Tommy pulled back and tossed the vacation pamphlet at him. “Done.”

Davey looked at the plane tickets and then yelled, “No way!” He turned to look at Judy, who had walked in with a tray of meat and cheese and crackers. “Did you see this?”

“She donated the reward miles for the tickets.”

Judy shot Bobby a look, as if that was supposed to be a secret—which was ridiculous because it actually made Tommy feel a little better—and said, “They were about to expire.”

Probably smelling the food, Mike and Collin came into the room, Baxter-maybe-Brutus hopping along at Collin’s heels.

“What’s about to expire?” Mike asked, confused.

Tommy looked at the sea of shredded Christmas paper and ribbon. “You are, if you guys don’t get all this paper cleared up. The damn dog is about to get lost again.”

“Tommy’s goin’ to Mexico!” Davey was so goddamn excited you’d think it was him going.

Collin still didn’t get it. “Alone? That’s kinda weird…”

“Bobby’s taking me. I don’t even like goin’ to the grocery store without him—you think I’m leaving the country without him?”

When Bobby made a small sound—part laugh, part sniffle—Tommy glanced at him. “What?”

“Nothin’,” The look on Bobby’s face didn’t look like “nothin’,” but Tommy didn’t argue. “Merry Christmas, Tom.”

Better Late Than Never

Author’s note: This was written from a prompt for a contest winner.

Timing: Takes place after the ending but before the epilogue for The Last Thing He Needs.

Tommy knew how he ended up there. He’d retraced his steps, lived through the fight again, picked apart every word he’d said. Every word they’d both said. Every word they didn’t mean.

Well. Every word he didn’t mean. Bobby usually meant what he said and didn’t feel the need to apologize or take it back. Why would he? The bastard was usually right.

“We’ve been living together for over a year, Tom. How long until you stop waiting for me to change my mind?”

Bobby’s words didn’t unsettle him so much as the way he’d said them. Like he was defeated, broken down. Done.

“I don’t know, Bobby. Maybe forever, okay? Think you can handle that?”

No answer. Tommy should’ve felt some sense of satisfaction. He’d finally gotten Bobby to shut up, finally driven a point home so clearly and so hard there was no arguing it.

The only problem was Tommy had wanted him to argue it, wanted him to say he could handle it, could handle anything Tommy threw at him. But, no. Bobby stood in front of him with his arms crossed over his chest, gritting his teeth like he was trying to stop himself from throwing a punch.

Brittle silence had crackled between them, so strained Tommy wanted to break it himself, wanted to say something—anything, really. But he never got the chance. Bobby simply turned and walked out the door into the cold winter night.

“Great,” Tommy muttered. “Fucking fantastic.” He paced the floor for about twelve seconds before he headed for the closet and grabbed his jacket. He went ahead and dug around on the top shelf—stretched his arm all the way back until he found what he really wanted. The one thing that might keep him sane tonight. Marlboro Reds never let him down. His fingers itched for one before he even made it outside.

He thought about chasing Bobby down, having some big, dramatic showdown in a parking lot somewhere or on the side of the road. But he knew Bobby too well. Bobby liked to let things cool down, and if he was the one walking out, it meant he was the one who needed to clear his head and work through his anger on his own so he could talk things through with Tommy.

The crisp night air burned Tommy’s lungs, but he lit a cigarette anyway, took one long drag off it as he tried to decide where to go. He knew he shouldn’t head to the bar. That was a mistake he’d never make again. Instead, he wandered around for an hour before he found himself on Gene’s doorstep. Mostly because that’s where he usually found himself when he needed to shake something off or talk to someone who wouldn’t tell him what a dipshit he was. Someone who knew him almost as well as Colleen but who didn’t have an investment in his actions beyond showing up for work and not fucking up so badly he couldn’t do his job.

Gene answered the door, wearing a flannel robe over his boxer shorts and an old undershirt. “Again?” he asked as he stepped back to let Tommy in. “Third fight in a month. You two must be going for some kinda record.”

Tommy couldn’t really laugh it off as a joke, and no way could he deny it.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Nope.”

“Thank Christ. Beer’s in the fridge. Help yourself.”

Tommy did. But he stopped himself at two. Getting shitfaced at Gene’s was only one step better than getting shitfaced at the bar.

Gene watched the recap of one hockey game or another, and Tommy stewed. He thought about Gene—his friend, practically his father. The guy was still single twenty years after his divorce because his wife had left him with nothing but a broken heart and the bar that had been in his family for three generations. On the other hand, Gene’s sob story didn’t really pan out when he was drunk enough to get chatty. He once told Tommy how it wasn’t her fault. How he drank too much, married too young, screwed anything that came his way while she was home waiting for him. How he sucked at it. Sucked at being a husband and would’ve sucked at being a father. How much he hated that it was too late now to go back and try again.

And that was the main problem with life in general, as far as Tommy could make out. Give it a shot and fail, you fuck up (at least) two people’s lives. Don’t try at all, and you’re probably still fucking things up. Damned if you do, and damned if you don’t.

Which pretty much summed up Tommy’s life. Maybe everyone else’s life too, but fuck the rest of the world. He was too busy trying to keep his own head above water.

As Gene started to nod off in his chair, Tommy said good night and slipped out the door. He lit his last smoke and headed home.

Bobby was already in bed. Tommy could tell he wasn’t really asleep, though. Angry tension radiated from the lithe outline under the covers.

Not a good sign.

Tommy walked around to Bobby’s side of the bed, but he didn’t sit down. Instead, he dropped to his knees and reached out.

“I think it’ll take more than a blowjob tonight, Tom.” There was nothing playful about Bobby’s tone. Damn it all.

“I wasn’t planning on blowing you.”

That seemed to get Bobby’s attention. He lifted his head and turned on the lamp.

“So you’re… what? Begging?” Bobby arched a brow but didn’t look impressed. “That’s not your style, Tom.”

Fair point, and they both knew it. But if anyone could get him to beg, it’d be Bobby.

“Yeah, well. My style hasn’t been working too well lately, has it, copper?”

Bobby snorted a laugh, but it sounded cynical.

Tommy wet his lips and grabbed Bobby’s hand. “Maybe I am begging a little, all right?”

“Begging for what, Tom? More time? Another chance? You’ve got it, okay? Now, let me get some sleep.”

“Ya know, you’re a real pain in the ass.”

Bobby did laugh then. Bitter and nettled, but a laugh nonetheless. “That’s really rich coming from you, Mr. O’Shea.”

Another good point. “Yeah, well. I guess we deserve each other, then.”

Something about that softened Bobby. He turned onto his side, facing Tommy, squeezed Tommy’s fingers in his own. “Maybe so,” he whispered, exhaling a heavy breath, like he’d been holding it all damn day. “So what are we supposed to do with each other?”

That was Tommy’s out. His chance to make a joke, make a pass, fuck Bobby stupid until he forgot what they were fighting about in the first place. But not tonight.

“I think we should get married.”

He’d managed to shock Bobby a few times since they’d been together, but maybe not that much. Tommy didn’t think anyone had ever been so shocked in the history of the world.

“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.

He couldn’t help but grin in response. “You keep telling me that.” Tommy rolled his hips again, one time, long and slow, before finding his frantic pace again. He watched Bobby’s face, the way Bobby’s brow furrowed—almost the same way it did when he was hurting or really pissed off. He was so close, right on the edge, and seeing that pulled Tommy along with him.

After a few seconds, Bobby let out a fierce groan and held tight to Tommy. His shudders rolled through him, and Tommy could feel each one as Bobby came hot and wet between them.

Tommy tried to hold off, let it last a little longer, but his climax burned through him like a lit fuse, and there was no turning back. “Christ,” he groaned, one last gasp of breath before he collapsed against Bobby in the sticky mess they’d made.

It didn’t take long for Bobby to get tired of Tommy’s dead weight pinning him to the bed. With a laugh, Bobby said, “If you fall asleep now, I’m changing my mind.”

“Who said anything about falling asleep?” Tommy asked as he slowly lifted his head. “You’re just softer than the mattress.”

Bobby jabbed him hard in the ribs for that. “Get off me, asshole.” Thankfully, Bobby was still laughing as he rolled over, tumbling Tommy to the side. “Bet you wish you’d saved a cigarette now.”

Busted. “Who said I didn’t?”

“I know you too well for that, Tom. I bet you even put off coming home until your pack was gone.”

Tommy stretched out next to him, wrapped his arm around Bobby’s waist as Bobby tried to clean them both up. “Maybe I smoked extra fast so I could get back here and talk shit out before you fell asleep.”

Bobby snorted a laugh and shifted closer. “I bet you were sitting on Gene’s couch, smoking and drinking, trying to calculate how long you could stay out without me changing the locks.”

“Gene texted you, didn’t he?”

The grin on Bobby’s face was a good enough answer, but he said, “While you were getting your first beer.”

“He’s lucky he just gave me a raise, or I’d kick his ass.”

They settled after that, Tommy with his arms around Bobby’s shoulders, Bobby’s head on his chest, their feet tangled together under the blankets.

“Been a while since we rubbed off on each other like horny teenagers,” Bobby whispered, brushing kisses against Tommy’s skin with his words.

Tommy trailed his fingers through Bobby’s short blond hair. “I always feel like a horny teenager when I’m with you.” Cheesy? Probably. But true either way. Bobby’s breath came in shallow pants, soft and warm against Tommy’s skin, and Tommy could tell he was about to fall asleep. “Speaking of horny teenagers, though…”

Bobby lifted his head, just enough to catch Tommy’s eye, before relaxing against him again. “Davey told me what happened.”

“What’d you tell him?” Tommy asked, curious.

“Probably the same thing you told him. He’s too young, she’s too young, pissed-off parents, teen pregnancy, condoms.” He pulled back to look at Tommy again, grinning this time. “Then I told him you’d turn him into a eunuch if he got caught making out with her on campus again.”

“That’s a goddamn promise. What’d he say?”

“‘What’s a eunuch?’”

Bobby couldn’t help but laugh. “Please tell me you explained. In detail.”

“I did.” Bobby started to laugh then, and Tommy held him a little tighter. “I told him he could carry his balls in a little sack around his neck.”

“I like it.”

“I’m not sure, but I think it was scarier coming from me,” Bobby said, rubbing his feet against Tommy’s. “He’s used to you saying stuff like that. I don’t think he even hears it anymore. But for me to say it…”

“Yeah, you’re supposed to be the nice one, not the one threatening dismemberment.”

“Well. I did say you’d do it.”

“Fair enough,” Tommy whispered, already wanting to slip into sleep but not wanting to stop talking either. This was his favorite part of the day. In bed, warm and safe, Bobby wrapped around him. Didn’t matter that they’d been at each other’s throats hours earlier. In a way, it didn’t even matter that they’d made a pretty huge fucking decision about their life and their future. These quiet moments—stolen bits of time that no one could take away from them—were the ones that mattered to Tommy. Talking about their day, Carrie’s report card, or Collin’s friend moving across town, Max and Zoe learning to write their numbers (with crayons, on the wall), or the stupid shit Davey was up to… It finally dawned on Tommy. They were already married.

“Hey,” Bobby whispered, tickling Tommy’s side. “You wanna make a big deal out of it, make an announcement and have a big party and all that, or just… us?”

Right. Getting married usually meant a wedding. “Hadn’t thought about it. What about you?”

Bobby shifted again, somehow got a little closer. “Honestly, Tom, I don’t care. We can go down to the courthouse and not tell anyone, or we can make it a huge thing.”

“I think your mother would turn us into eunuchs if we didn’t even tell her. Not to mention Colleen.”

“True.”

Tommy thought for a moment, trying to find what would feel right for them—for all of them. “What about just the family? And maybe see if Sanders and his wife wanna come?” Bobby’s partner was as good as family to Bobby and Judy; it was only right he should be there.

“Gene too.”

“Yeah, Gene too. We could put on some nice suits, go down to the courthouse, do a fancy dinner after…”

Bobby let out a contented hum before he answered, as if he were picturing it first. “Sounds nice. I like it. What about a honeymoon? Take a little trip somewhere, maybe go back to Mexico?”

“Sounds expensive.” He didn’t give Bobby a chance to argue, though. “But, yeah, we should do it. Whole family or just us?”

“We didn’t take them when we went down to Cancún. Might be cool to bring all the kids. We’ve never really done a family vacation before.”

Tommy turned onto his side, slipped his hand lower to wrap his arm around Bobby’s waist. “That sounds even more expensive.” He thought about it for the length of one heartbeat and said, “We’d be saving a lot of money by not doing a reception and all that shit, though.”

“I should always try to talk you into things right after you come,” Bobby said, obviously teasing. “You’re a pushover.”

“You and your mother have worn me down. I can’t say no to a goddamn thing anymore.”

“Good,” Bobby whispered before leaning in and pressing his lips to Tommy’s. “So if I said we should take two trips, one with all the kids and one just for us, you’d just agree and fall asleep?”

“Why not?” Tommy rolled over, pushing Bobby onto his back and using him like a pillow. “We’ll just live with your mother the rest of our lives. Who needs to buy a house or put kids through college?”

“Yeah, like Colleen has asked for a single dime for tuition—you do realize her dying words will be sorry for putting this on you guys.”

“That’s the god’s truth.” Tommy thought about it for a minute. Colleen needed a vacation from real life more than any of them. “Mike’ll probably get a scholarship.”

“We can put off buying a house for one more year…”

That was fine with Tommy. He had no interest in moving out, away from the kids. But that was a discussion for another day. “We’re not exactly responsible with money, you get that, right?”

“Well, you are. Enough for both of us.”

“Not if I’m agreeing to this.”

“You can start being responsible again in a few months. After we get back from a two-part honeymoon.”

Tommy would’ve rolled his eyes if Bobby had been looking at him. “Fine. But this is the last thing you get to talk me into for a year. No. Five years.”

“Split the difference? Two and a half?”

Even that was unlikely, and they both knew it.