she’s probably safer where she is,” Nibs said.
“I’ll call them later,” Paul said.
Skandik rolled over to look at Paul. “We could go ’round there. Give Nibs and Wig an evening to themselves.”
Paul nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Colin and Fiona are going back late tonight. I have no idea what’s happened to Dan. Last I saw of him was the wedding.”
“You don’t have to.” Nibs stopped when Wig dug him in the ribs.
The thought of spending an evening alone curled up on the sofa with his man sounded awesome to Wig
Paul laughed as Nibs flinched. “I think you’ve been outvoted there, big boy.”
Nibs shrugged and pulled Wig in closer to his side, “I have to do what my boy wants.”
Skandik sat up and stretched, his muscles rippling under his tight T-shirt. He blushed when he realized he had an audience of three staring at him avidly.
Paul smirked at Wig and Nibs. “He’s all mine, boys.”
“You’re very lucky,” Wig said. “You’ve picked a good one. Both you and Sam have picked great guys.”
“It’s hysterical that you couldn’t find a single man—or woman,” Nibs said, with an acknowledgement to Paul’s bisexuality, “in England, but Liam is a doll, and boy, look at the muscles on Skandik. Them Yanks build ’em big.”
“Will you shut up,” Skandik muttered.
“But he’s right, love,” Paul cooed. “These muscles are gorgeous.” He squeezed Skandik’s biceps.
Skandik tried to brush him off, but Paul wouldn’t let go.
“Do you remember when we were like that?” Nibs asked Wig.
“I’ve never stopped admiring your muscles.”
“Really?” Wig poked him in the ribs.
“Ouch, stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Attacking my ribs. Paul is groping Skandik, and you poke me.”
“I don’t mind groping you if you like, lover.”
“They’re newly in love.”
Wig looked over at Paul and Skandik. They were otherwise occupied and not paying attention to their hosts. “I love you, you know.”
Nibs looked puzzled. “I know that.”
“Then it’s about time you fucking remembered it, baby.” Wig climbed onto his lap. “You’re pushing me away, and I don’t like it.”
“I’m not pushing you away.” Nibs’s hands settled on his arse, his favorite place to stow his hands.
Wig stroked his stubbled cheek. “You are, Nibs, even if you don’t realize it. I love you, and it hurts me to see you not trust me like you used to.” He kept his voice low, not wanting to intrude on the intimacy of the other two men.
Nibs kissed him gently, then rested his forehead on Wig’s. “I guess I’ve been trying to protect you.”
“You stupid idiot. I’m a big boy. I’m older than you. Just because I’m the size of a pocket handkerchief doesn’t mean I’m stupid or need to be treated like a child. If you’re sick, I need to know.”
“You’re sick?”
Nibs sighed against Wig’s lips and looked over to Paul, who’d suddenly taken an interest in their conversation. “I’ve been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.”
“You didn’t tell Wig?”
Nibs hung his head.
“Fucking idiot.”
“That’s what I told him. We’re partners, we need to share these things.” Wig frowned. “I thought type 2 diabetes was for older people.”
“So did I, but apparently some younger people are getting it as well. Lucky me.”
“Do you think the stress of the past year has been a factor?”
“I don’t think it helped, babe, but it’s not that serious. I haven’t even been to the clinic yet. I just can’t afford to ignore it.”
“I’m going with you. I don’t trust you to tell me what the doctors say.”
“Good call,” Paul said, pulling Skandik to his feet. “Now we’re off to see the family, and you two can argue, fuck, or whatever.”
Skandik sighed. “Paul, don’t you ever filter what you say?”
“You have met this man, haven’t you?” Wig said. “Paul’s never filtered anything. You should have met him when he was a teenager.
“I’ll call them later,” Paul said.
Skandik rolled over to look at Paul. “We could go ’round there. Give Nibs and Wig an evening to themselves.”
Paul nodded. “Sounds like a plan. Colin and Fiona are going back late tonight. I have no idea what’s happened to Dan. Last I saw of him was the wedding.”
“You don’t have to.” Nibs stopped when Wig dug him in the ribs.
The thought of spending an evening alone curled up on the sofa with his man sounded awesome to Wig
Paul laughed as Nibs flinched. “I think you’ve been outvoted there, big boy.”
Nibs shrugged and pulled Wig in closer to his side, “I have to do what my boy wants.”
Skandik sat up and stretched, his muscles rippling under his tight T-shirt. He blushed when he realized he had an audience of three staring at him avidly.
Paul smirked at Wig and Nibs. “He’s all mine, boys.”
“You’re very lucky,” Wig said. “You’ve picked a good one. Both you and Sam have picked great guys.”
“It’s hysterical that you couldn’t find a single man—or woman,” Nibs said, with an acknowledgement to Paul’s bisexuality, “in England, but Liam is a doll, and boy, look at the muscles on Skandik. Them Yanks build ’em big.”
“Will you shut up,” Skandik muttered.
“But he’s right, love,” Paul cooed. “These muscles are gorgeous.” He squeezed Skandik’s biceps.
Skandik tried to brush him off, but Paul wouldn’t let go.
“Do you remember when we were like that?” Nibs asked Wig.
“I’ve never stopped admiring your muscles.”
“Really?” Wig poked him in the ribs.
“Ouch, stop doing that.”
“Doing what?”
“Attacking my ribs. Paul is groping Skandik, and you poke me.”
“I don’t mind groping you if you like, lover.”
“They’re newly in love.”
Wig looked over at Paul and Skandik. They were otherwise occupied and not paying attention to their hosts. “I love you, you know.”
Nibs looked puzzled. “I know that.”
“Then it’s about time you fucking remembered it, baby.” Wig climbed onto his lap. “You’re pushing me away, and I don’t like it.”
“I’m not pushing you away.” Nibs’s hands settled on his arse, his favorite place to stow his hands.
Wig stroked his stubbled cheek. “You are, Nibs, even if you don’t realize it. I love you, and it hurts me to see you not trust me like you used to.” He kept his voice low, not wanting to intrude on the intimacy of the other two men.
Nibs kissed him gently, then rested his forehead on Wig’s. “I guess I’ve been trying to protect you.”
“You stupid idiot. I’m a big boy. I’m older than you. Just because I’m the size of a pocket handkerchief doesn’t mean I’m stupid or need to be treated like a child. If you’re sick, I need to know.”
“You’re sick?”
Nibs sighed against Wig’s lips and looked over to Paul, who’d suddenly taken an interest in their conversation. “I’ve been diagnosed with type 2 diabetes.”
“You didn’t tell Wig?”
Nibs hung his head.
“Fucking idiot.”
“That’s what I told him. We’re partners, we need to share these things.” Wig frowned. “I thought type 2 diabetes was for older people.”
“So did I, but apparently some younger people are getting it as well. Lucky me.”
“Do you think the stress of the past year has been a factor?”
“I don’t think it helped, babe, but it’s not that serious. I haven’t even been to the clinic yet. I just can’t afford to ignore it.”
“I’m going with you. I don’t trust you to tell me what the doctors say.”
“Good call,” Paul said, pulling Skandik to his feet. “Now we’re off to see the family, and you two can argue, fuck, or whatever.”
Skandik sighed. “Paul, don’t you ever filter what you say?”
“You have met this man, haven’t you?” Wig said. “Paul’s never filtered anything. You should have met him when he was a teenager.
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