He could hear Magnus’s voice from the hallway that must have led back to the bathroom and bedrooms, and as he moved forward to check out the galley style kitchen, his eyes landed on what had to be the shelf of coffee cups Magnus and Kayla had been talking about. With a grin, he went around the island to get a better look. The dark wooded piece was mounted on the wall just above the countertop in the only spot that didn’t have upper cabinets. There were six shelves all filled to capacity with cups of every shape, size, and color. He chuckled imagining Magnus having to get a step-stool to reach the top shelf and let his eyes linger on the lower shelves which must contain his favorites. It didn’t take him long to find the one that must be the shelf of snark.
He pulled a white cup with the cartoon drawing of a unicorn and a rainbow handle that said powered by unicorn farts off the shelf and chuckled. Each mug on the shelf had a different saying, some mostly tame like, I like pretty things and the word fuck to Britney survived 2007. You can handle today. It was that one he was holding when Magnus came around the corner from the hallway, and arched a brow at him.
Rory held up the cup and raised a brow back.
“Did you see the eat a bag of dicks one? It’s a personal favorite.” The sarcasm in Magnus’s voice was thick enough to choke him, and Rory found himself clearing his throat. It reminded him of the Magnus he’d been faced with since Magnus moved home and before they talked things out last Labor Day. It was a mask, Rory had realized pretty early on. Sarcasm and indifference pulled close like a shield.
“No, I didn’t quite make it to that one.” He carefully set the mug he’d been holding back on the shelf and eyed Magnus warily. “Um, do you have to go back down to the club?”
Magnus’s eyes were calculating as they watched him, making his skin prickle and a flush creep up his neck.
“Magnus?”
Finally, Magnus sighed, and it looked like a puppet getting his strings cut. “No, I’m done for the night. Chelsea is going to close.” He walked around Rory to retrieve a tea kettle off the four-burner range top built into the island before filling and setting it back on the stove to boil. “I wanted to talk to you about something, though, if that’s okay.”
“Of course,” Rory said quickly, trying to stay out of the way while Magnus moved about getting tea bags and setting the sugar container on the counter.
“Would you grab two of those?” Magnus asked, pointing to the cups behind Rory. “You still only take sugar?”
Rory paused, hand extended to do as Magnus asked, and looked back at him. He knew the shock was evident on his face. Such a little thing...to remember how he took his tea, but it pinged through his heart, lighting him up inside. Swallowing, he tried to stop the tremble that went through his whole body and grabbed the first two cups in reach and handed them over.
Magnus took them and chuckled. “Good choice. A bit ironic, maybe, but good.”
“Huh?” Rory looked down at the cups that said, Don’t Go Bacon My Heart and the other with little pictures of fried eggs on it, I Couldn’t If I Fried.
“Magnus—”
“You were jealous, weren’t you?” Magnus turned to face him squarely. “Just now in the bar. Of Rocco of all people.”
Rory opened his mouth, and Magnus barreled over to him.
“Which, by the way, thank you so much for telling me he was still in the picture. How long has Vi been hooking up with him?”
“Now hang on, am I just supposed to spill Vi’s secrets to you? You and I have only been civil a handful of months! And for months before that, we weren’t even speaking!”
Magnus stared at him, a red flush creeping up his cheeks. He was visibly chewing on the inside of his cheek. A whistle from the tea kettle made them both jump, and Magnus broke their stare to pull it off the stove. Rory could see the kettle shaking in his hand as he poured the water over the tea bags.
He sighed and walked forward until he was nearly flush with Magnus’s back. “Maggie,” he breathed against the back of his head, the scent of shampoo and Magnus filling his nose.
Magnus leaned back, letting his back rest against Rory’s chest. Rory soaked in the feel of him, not daring to breathe in case he somehow broke the spell, and Magnus tossed him out on his ass.
“I’m sorry. You’re right,” Magnus whispered. “It’s not fair to think you’d tell me things or feel more loyalty to me than my brothers.” He let out a humorless laugh. “We’re not together. Hell, we’re barely friends. Interacting with you again has muddied the waters for me a bit, I think. And apparently, thinking about you choosing my brothers over me is still a sore spot.”
Rory didn’t know what to say. This was dangerous ground. It had been when they’d been younger, and it felt even more so now. When it seemed like Magnus wasn’t moving, Rory slowly brought his arms up and wrapped them around Magnus’s chest. Dropping his nose behind Magnus’s ear, he breathed deep before whispering back. “My loyalty has always been yours. I don’t know what’s going on with Vi and Roc. He hasn’t told me.”
“We’re not going to be friends, are we?”
Rory felt a tremor go through Magnus, and he held on just a little bit tighter. “I don’t know if I can...but if that’s what you really want, I’ll do my best, Maggie, I swear it.”
Magnus gave the tiniest shake of his head. “I’m tired, Rory.”
“I know you are.” And he did. It was obvious in the tense line of Magnus’s shoulders and the dark circles under his eyes. “Can I help? I think I’m getting the hang of this bar stuff. Before you know it, I’ll be mixing drinks.”
Magnus’s shoulders shook, and it took a moment for Rory to realize it was laughter and not tears.
“Hey! I could learn. I mean, at least I know my liquors,” Rory protested.
“I know,” Magnus said, sobering. “I haven’t seen you drinking much lately, though.” Magnus glanced back over his shoulder, but didn’t move from Rory’s arms. “But that’s not the tired I was talking about.”
Rory decided to address the easier part first. “I made it my New Year’s Resolution to cut back on the drinking. I’m getting too old to be hungover all the time.” After a beat of silence, Rory continued, “Tell me what’s wrong, Maggie.”
Chapter Eight
Magnus had tried really hard not to whimper when Rory wrapped his arms around him. How long had it been since he felt truly wanted? Since he didn’t have to be the put together one? Since he felt safe? With Rory’s whispered words in his ear and the solid strength of his body holding him tight, Magnus had it all in spades. And it was Rory. His Rory.
Trying to think of a way to put all that he was feeling, and all the things weighing on him, into words was a daunting task. He needed a moment to think, to parse out exactly what he wanted to say.
Unwilling to break contact, Magnus turned in Rory’s arms, wrapping his arms around Rory’s waist and clinging as tightly as Rory was holding him. He pressed his face against the side of Rory’s neck and just breathed. Rory looked good tonight in worn jeans and a soft blue sweater. It made the blue green of his eyes look like a crystal-clear ocean. The scrape of his beard along Magnus’s temple was new, but he found he enjoyed it. He liked the way Rory fit in his arms now, too. There was more of him than when he was twenty—a solidness he hadn’t had back then.
Rory dropped his face to bury his nose in Magnus’s hair before pressing a kiss to his temple. “What are we doing, love?”
Magnus clenched his eyes close. God, how he’d longed to hear Rory call him that again. To hear that word coated in his Scottish brogue—whether they were eating dinner or Rory had him writhing in ecstasy, it didn’t matter. He had been so sure he never would.
“I’m using you for your warmth...and your muscles,” Magnus whispered back. He rubbed Rory’s back, kneading his fingers into the dense muscle running along Rory’s spine. “Seriously, all this is a nice addition. Magnus approved.”
Rory chuckled. “Thank you.” His hands started to roam as well, slidi
ng down Magnus’s back to stop barely an inch above his ass. Magnus sucked in a breath when his body started to respond. Rory’s voice had dropped an octave when he spoke again. “You’ve filled out nicely yourself.”
Reluctantly, Magnus pulled back. He didn’t want this to be about sex, or all about sex anyway, as tempting as it was. Wanting to have sex with Rory was a given, but that’s not all he wanted. “Can we talk? I mean, do you mind staying for a while?”
Rory huffed a small laugh, a disbelieving smile taking over his face. “Magnus, I will stay as long as you’ll let me.”
Warmth spread through his chest as Magnus ducked his head. “Okay. Let’s make our tea and move into the living room?”
Rory nodded, but didn’t meet Magnus’s eyes.
“What? Would sitting at the island be better?”
One side of Rory’s lips tipped up as a rush of pink filled his cheeks, and Magnus suddenly knew what was happening. “Rory Clifford Wilson. Are you thinking naughty thoughts about me?”
“Hey!” Rory’s head snapped up at his middle name. “That’s playing dirty!”
Magnus couldn’t stop the cackle that bubbled up out of his throat, turning into screeching laughter when Rory leaned down and dug his fingertips into the back of Magnus’s thighs, zeroing in on the only ticklish spot on his body like it’d been only yesterday since the last time he’d exploited it. “Oh god, stop! That’s really not fair!”
Rory stopped tickling only to grip more firmly and lift Magnus up. Magnus yelped, gripping Rory’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around his waist. Spinning around, Rory set him on the counter beside his cup shelf and stayed right where he was, snug in the V of Magnus’s thighs.
Magnus’s laugh sounded breathy. “This isn’t the couch.”
“No, it isn’t,” Rory said, his eyes hooded and his face so close Magnus could smell the mint on his breath. Spearmint. “I’m sorry for being impatient, love, but I need you to put me out of my misery. Tell me what’s going on.”
Swallowing, Magnus licked his lips and tried to put his thoughts in order. “I think I want to...try.”
“Try?”
“To be more than friends.” Watching Rory’s eyes widen had Magnus rushing to get all his thoughts out. “Because I don’t think being friends is going to work, and I think that maybe we both want more than that, anyway, but we just didn’t say it because there’s so much shit between us and so much that we probably still need to work through and I—”
Rory’s fingers on his lips stopped him. “Magnus. Take a breath.”
He did. Then another just to be sure. “I think, maybe we’re both in a place now where we could actually work through our issues instead of just screaming at each other about them, don’t you? I’m not saying let’s jump into the deep end, and I think we should hold off on the sex or we’ll get so wrapped up in that that nothing will ever get fixed, but yes...I-I miss you and I want to try.” Magnus held his breath as he met Rory’s eyes. He didn’t think he’d misread what Rory had been showing him, but maybe all Rory really wanted was the sex. He almost shook his head at himself. That was a ridiculous thought. Rory wasn’t like that. If he was, it wouldn’t have bothered him that Magnus had been a porn star.
The smile on Rory’s face was soft. “What about kisses?”
“Huh?”
“Kisses, Maggie. Can I kiss you?”
A memory stole into Magnus’s mind. Their first kiss. They’d both still been teens when Rory had asked him the same question. He couldn’t think of a single time anyone had asked him since.
“Yes,” he whispered, tilting his chin just a little bit. Rory didn’t plow into him or slam their mouths together. Slowly, he leaned forward, his eyes tracing over the whole of Magnus’s face, his trembling breath hitting Magnus’s lips a second before he gently set his lips against Magnus’s. They were warm and soft and sure. Closing his eyes, Magnus pressed forward, forgetting the stress of the club, forgetting all the hurtful things they’d said to each other, even forgetting that this wasn’t actually their first kiss. Because it felt like a first of its own...raw and powerful, stealing his breath.
They didn’t deepen the kiss, but let it stay an intoxicating movement of their lips sliding together, testing, reacquainting. Pressing his forehead to Magnus’s, Rory pulled back enough to suck in a breath. Magnus couldn’t tell which of them was shaking worse now, but he supposed it didn’t matter. They were here, together, and somehow they were going to find a way forward.
“I think,” Rory started, but had to stop and clear his throat. “I think we can move to the couch now.”
Magnus smiled before leaning in to kiss Rory again. Just a quick press, then he scooted forward until Rory wrapped him up and lifted him again, squeezing him tight before letting Magnus slide down his body until his feet hit the floor. Feeling the hardness in Rory’s pants did nothing to help him calm his own, but he didn’t even care. He felt lighter than he had in months. Maybe years. “Do you want some sweats or something? Maybe we can get comfy and watch a movie?”
“Do you have any that will fit me?”
“They might be a little short, but I think you’ll manage. I’ll be right back.”
Slipping out of Rory’s grasp, Magnus went and found them sweats, letting Rory change in the main bathroom in the hall while he changed with lightning speed in his en suite, all the while willing his erection to go down.
When he got back to the main room, he grabbed their tea cups and dimmed the lights before settling down on his preferred end of the sectional with a couple pillows and the flannel quilt his mom had made him. He’d washed it so many times it was extremely soft and had his scent permanently embedded in its fibers. Grabbing the remote, he queued up a Netflix movie—a comedy he’d been meaning to watch for ages.
Rory clearing his throat had Magnus glancing his way. He snorted a laugh and was glad he hadn’t been taking a drink or the quilt would need another washing. Rory was standing by the island in a white t-shirt and the blue sweatpants Magnus had loaned him. The elastic band that was meant to be around his ankles was stretched wide just below the big muscle in each of his calves, and even in the dim light, Magnus could see the erection tenting the cloth at his groin.
“If this was our first first hang out session, I’d still be in the bathroom, biting my lip and rubbing one out.” Rory shook his head, laughing at himself as he walked to the couch. When he stood beside where Magnus was sitting, a moment of hesitation seemed to seize him until Magnus threw the quilt back inviting Rory to sit beside him, and revealing his own erection that hadn’t quite deflated either.
Rory chuckled, plopping down beside him and helping to arrange the quilt so that both their laps and legs were covered.
“Is this okay?” Magnus asked, pointing toward the movie he’d selected.
“It’s perfect,” Rory answered, his eyes never leaving Magnus’s face.
Magnus smiled. “Were you always this romantic?”
“I may have had a few years to think about how I’d woo you if I ever got the chance.”
“Really?” Lifting a brow, Magnus leaned into Rory’s side, grinning again when Rory put an arm around his shoulders and pulled them flush together.
“Really.”
“Well, you’ve got the chance.”
Rory fingers caught his chin in a gentle hold, turning his face so Magnus was looking up at him. “I’m not going to blow it this time, Magnus.” The blue green eyes boring into his were full of conviction, a burning beacon of hope.
“I believe you.” Magnus whispered before he stole one more kiss.
Chapter Nine
“Magnus!”
Rory’s eyes snapped open, adjusting slowly to the bright sunlight pouring in through the large windows in Magnus’s living room. Magnus. Looking down, he found Magnus just as he remembered him last night, sprawled out under the quilt, half on Rory’s chest and sleeping soundly.
“Magnus, are you up?” Kayla came through the door that s
eparated the foyer from the living room, a bakery box in one hand and stopped in her tracks when her eyes locked with Rory’s. “Oh shit! Sorry,” she whispered, a huge smile breaking out on her face. “I’ll just, I’ll just go. But you have no idea how happy I am right now!”
“Kayla?” Magnus’s sleep rough voice was adorable, and Rory couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t grinning like a fool. Sitting up, Magnus rubbed at his eyes and looked at his guest. He was sleep warm, rumpled, and perfect. Rory thought he might actually bust. He let his hand trail up Magnus’s back, smiling again when Magnus shivered.
“Hey, good morning,” Kayla said, looking between them. Rory didn’t think it was possible, but Kayla looked positively gleeful to have caught them doing nothing more than snuggling on the couch. “I was just telling Rory that I’m going to go, so just go back to what you were doing, or do some even better stuff! You know, whatever, I’m gonna—” She started to back toward the door when Magnus’s brain seemed to kick online, and he zeroed in on the bakery box in her hand.
“Is that coffee cake? From Mabel’s?”
Kayla stopped. “It is.”
Magnus was off the couch in a heartbeat. “Don’t you dare run away with my coffee cake! Start the coffee! I’ll be back to fix the rest in just a minute.”
Rory huffed a laugh and called down the hall at Magnus’s retreating back. “I see where I rate!”
“Once you’ve had that coffee cake, you’ll understand!” Magnus yelled right before he disappeared into what Rory assumed was his bedroom. He waited until Kayla was in the kitchen dumping coffee into the machine before he eased off the couch and headed to the bathroom in the hallway. Just before he got past the island, she shot him a narrow-eyed look, stopping him cold.
Open Wounds: The Boxed Set Page 31
