Chapter 26
Ocean
His new gear, navy blue trimmed in layers of white and aqua to resemble the waves he loved, was even softer than his much beloved first set.
He’d shivered when Pope had run his fingers beneath every edge and buckle, making certain nothing would chafe or pinch before he’d purchased it and a matching collar.
Fucking in the dressing room had been tempting until Pope had caught him eyeing his zipper and ordered him to behave.
Ocean’s collars had never had tags before, but this one did.
He’d always felt a pang of longing when he’d buckled them on, but this one had Pope’s name and phone number on the back, just like the ones they’d had made for Diesel and Grunge.
On the front, Pope had a simple, yet blatantly threatening, inscription engraved.
Fuck with him and die.
The same one he’d had placed on Danger’s tag.
He’d gotten new gear too. Gray and black, like the storm that had nearly taken him and Roan out when the roof caved in at the grocery store.
Pope had their leashes engraved too, in elegant script, reading Pope’s Pup, the same as the patches they now wore on their kuttes.
Roen walked between them in the most adorably perfect footie pajamas imaginable.
He loved Jack Skellington and the whole Nightmare Before Christmas crew, so when Pope had come across them, he’d ordered Jack, Oogie Boogie, Lock, Shock and Barrel, along with matching board shorts for him to wear on the beach.
His new patch read Papa Pope’s Boy, and Roan had been so proud when Kat had sewed it on his kutte that he’d teared up and gotten a little embarrassed, until Scout, who he’d been feuding with just two months before, softly admitted that he’d shed a few tears when he’d gotten his too.
In that moment, Ocean watched Roan learn a lesson about family and forgiveness when it came to the Rollin’ Jokers.
When beefs were squashed, that was all that was ever said about whatever had caused it.
They’d embraced in the clubhouse, earning applause from some, while others muttered about damn time after witnessing everything that had unfolded between them.
As for the glitter bomb perpetrator, they’d yet to be ferreted out.
There was a bounce to Roan’s step tonight; he was so excited and utterly unashamed of anyone seeing him be his authentic self.
His matching Jack Skellington backpack held snacks, juice boxes, and several toy cars and motorcycles they’d carefully selected for him, all modeled after machines they’d seen at the car show.
He’d started to slip into his little space the moment they’d started getting him dressed, rambling on and on about how excited he was to get to play in the little’s room, which was where they were headed now.
“Well, look at you four,” Kat said as they passed in front of the bar where Teddy and Bellamy were working side by side setting up a drink station. “Looking super cute there in your new onsie. It looks amazing on you.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Roan said and opened his arms for a hug, which she happily gave him, leaning over the bar.
“And such beautiful manners too.”
“Yes, he does,” Pope said, hand resting on Roan’s lower back. “Makes me damn proud.”
“And rightly so.”
“It’s like having a second skin; I love my new gear,” Ocean said, smiling behind his mask. The only time he remembered that it was gear was when he thought about it, otherwise, it was just a part of him.
“You look adorable, all three of you, though I can already see someone’s eyes narrowing behind his mask in response to the term,” she said, shooting a pointed look at Danger. “Too bad. It’s the truth, so live with it.”
Snickering, Ocean couldn’t resist glancing over at Danger, who decided that wagging his tail was better than pouting.
“In this case, I will,” he replied. “Since it’s been so long since I’ve had new gear. I’d forgotten how much I missed wandering the shop looking at everything.”
“Every time I go in there I tell myself to only pick up what I came for,” she replied.
“And every time she comes out, it’s with half the store,” Mark replied, his booming voice making her roll her eyes as he stepped up behind her.
His hands slid over her shoulders, caressing before he let them dangle, chin resting on the top of her head as he held her.
She truly was his queen, and he never failed to show it with casual touches whenever he walked past her and kisses before he walked out the door.
That simple intimacy reminded Ocean of the way his parents had been with one another.
Utterly in love and unafraid of the world knowing it too.
It was the same things he’d noticed from Pope and Danger, both at home and around the rest of the club.
Reminders that they were there and paying attention to every subtle shift in one of their moods.
Safe, cherished, protected, and loved, Ocean felt all of those and then some whenever they were together.
Cold lemonade, water, and apple juice in dispensers with spigots lined both ends, another of Teddy’s suggestions.
The spigots were perfect for refilling water bottles and cutting down on the plastic bottles they sent to the recycling center each week.
They had some upstairs in the clubhouse too, as well as in the game room.
Part of Teddy’s push for them to be more environmentally friendly in everything they did.
Ocean had heard bits and pieces about the falling out he’d had with Kat and Mark, the evidence was on full display whenever he wore a pair of jeans with the faded outline of the patch they’d removed marking them as his property.
Ocean never wanted his Pope’s Pup patch to come off, and he’d barely had it for a hot second.
He couldn’t imagine losing it after more than a decade, the way Teddy had.
Ocean hoped they gave him a chance to earn it back someday, because the man always looked sad, despite the smile he flashed whenever he addressed anyone.
Bright and cheery, it still never reached his eyes, which were drowning pools of sadness, especially now, as he cast furtive glances at them standing there, like he wished to be a part of that hug.
Ocean had seen him turn down casual advances around Joker’s Wild, as a few longtime members attempted to determine if he was available to join them in a bit of play.
It was always the same soft no, always the same head jerk, as if seeking out Kat and Mark, and always, without fail, the same disappointment when he realized they weren’t paying a bit of attention to him.
Despite not knowing the man well, his protective puppy side raised its head, woofing at him to intervene, so he had and invited Teddy to join them in the game room, since it wasn’t being used for poker that night.
The three of them, together with Kermit, had played Doomlings long into the night, while Sunshine and Pope chatted at a nearby table.
Danger had opted to play pool for a bit before joining in their game, others funneling into the room to occupy tables too, until there were as many folks in there as there were in the main part of the clubhouse.
Tonight, neither he nor Ocean had slipped into their pet space yet, though Ocean could feel his creeping along the edges of his consciousness, eagerly peeking out. By the time he finished playing with the littles and entertaining them, Ocean knew he’d be in full pup mode.
“I want to reserve the silver room, if it isn’t taken for the night,” Pope declared.
They waited while Kat pulled the book from beneath the bar and checked the pages before scribbling his name in and passing him the key. “It’s all yours.”
“Perfect,” Pope replied. “Thank you. We’re going to get these two settled into the little’s room for a bit; it’s not too crowded tonight, is it?”
“Not from what I’ve seen, but I know that some of the crew were planning on dropping in later, after they finished up with something in the boathouse that someone refuses to tell me about.”
She tipped her head back, trying to peer up at her husband, but his beard was in the way.
“You’ll find out what it is when it’s finished,” Mark declared. “And not a moment sooner. Quit trying to mess up my surprise, woman.”
“It better be a damned good one for you to keep me in the dark like this,” she grumbled. “You know I hate secrets.”
“Which is exactly why it’s so difficult to surprise you,” he shot back, tapping her nose.
Grumbling, she batted at his finger, all in good-natured fun.
Ocean could tell she wasn’t really complaining.
Giving one another shit was a love language with them, the same way it was becoming between them and Danger, who’d stood laughing in the kitchen when he’d come in to find that Roan had drawn him a picture and stuck it to the refrigerator with magnets.
The once plain sheet of paper boasted a sunset, with a flying monkey soaring past the sun wearing ruby slippers, a munchkin on its back, and groceries peeking out over the edge of the saddlebags.
And there, on the beach below them, was the house, with them all playing in the surf, even Grunge and Diesel, whose shoes had arrived just that morning.
Danger had thrown his hands up in defeat, then hugged Roan, thanking him for the picture, before mussing up his hair and tickling him until neither of them could breathe.
Several times, Roan demand that Ocean quit laughing and help him, but it had been too tempting to get in on the ticking too, until Roan managed to scurry away from them.
He’d retreated to the den to start drawing another picture, one he hadn’t yet let any of them see yet.
Pope guided them to the little room, stopping at the door to sign them in.
“Who’s authorized to sign them out?” Grier asked since he was sitting at the post outside the door.
“Just me and Danger,” Pope declared. “Our pup is going to stay with our boy while he plays.”