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Len entered the room like it was his, slamming gloves down and forcing his jacket open as if he were teaching it a lesson for something.
Well, to be fair, Len didn’t get this way often and the room basically was his. It wasn’t the room he was assigned by Rip when they agreed to stay on, but it was the room Mick was assigned to it and that was the same thing, basically. Len spent more nights here, more time here, than he did his own room.
And wasn’t it normal to come to your husband when you wanted to bitch about something? Because, Mick could definitely sense a bitch-fest coming on.
Thing was, given the extreme physical reaction and the fact that Len was even more tense than usual, Mick probably could guess what had happened to set him off and if he was right then it was entirely justified.
“He do it again?” Mick asked, from where he sat on the bed, lounging back and looking over his wire-rimmed reading glasses, going ahead and closing the book on the melting points of various metals and plastics. He wasn’t going to be getting any further in it tonight.
“Of course he did it again. When doesn’t he push boundaries?” Len asked, his tone cold steel, giving the appearance of calm anger. But it was a misleading tone, because as Len’s physical actions belied, he was anything but calm.
The coat was removed with a sleeve inside out and slammed on the desk for its trouble.
“He don’t mean it like that. He’s book smart, sure, but he’s like an overgrown kid,” Mick pointed out, only to get a pointed glare from Len.
“Don’t defend him. Even kids know what ‘don’t touch me’ means, Mick,” Len pointed out, literally pointing a finger at his husband.
Mick held up his hands, “not defendin him, just tryin to make sure you don’t sneak into his room late tonight and off him,”
Len snorted, but then eyed Mick again, “don’t give me that. You’re awfully chummy with him lately,”
“You jealous?” Mick asked, reclining a little bit against the wall.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Len said, sitting down and starting to fight with his boots.
Len had dexterous hands and fingers, but it was easier to untie knots when you weren’t yanking on them out of anger. All that really did was make them tighter.
“Good, ‘cause I ain’t interested in him like that,” Mick replied, calm and confident as he watched his husband struggle with his shoes like a kindergartener.
Then again, Len was so smart he probably came out of the womb knowing how to deal with his shoelaces.
“You call him pretty,” Len accused, using his focus on his shoes as a reason not to look at Mick.
“And you call him pretty boy sometimes, so should I be worried all this upset at his touchin ya is really just sexual tension?” Mick asked, sighing as he got up and went over to Len, getting down on his knees in front of his husband and reached for his laces, waiting until Len had pulled his hands away so that he could untie the boots himself. That way he knew he had permission to touch and he wouldn’t risk brushing Len’s bare skin just yet.
“I’d rather blow King Shark,” Len snarled, but he leaned back in the desk chair and let Mick lift his foot and gently pull one boot off.
Watched as Mick set the boot aside and gently set Len’s foot back down on the floor, put the dangling laces inside the shoe and tuck the tongue.
“Don’t think I’d advise that,” Mick replied about Len’s comment, starting on the laces of the other boot.
“You know what I meant,” Len said, reaching up to scrub a hand over his face.
“Want me to go beat him up?” Mick asked, casually, lifting Len’s other foot and gently removing the boot, repeating the process from before, and taking the boots over to sit beside his own beneath the bed.
“I thought he was your best pal?” Len asked, sardonic sarcasm oozing from the words.
“Grammar Nazi in ya stopped ya from sayin ‘bestest,’ didn’t it?” Mick asked and looked up at his husband as the man in question pursed his lips and set his jaw stubbornly.
“Fine, I’ll admit he’s my friend. But, you’re my husband, we’re partners in life. Anybody messes with you, they mess with me. Ray knows you don’t like it when he grabs onto you and he did it again anyway and look at you. You want me to deal with it, say the word, Partner,” Mick said, calm and serious, steady as the blue sky while he looked into his husbands eyes and waited for a response.
Len snorted, more of a huff than anything really, and turned his head away, “no, leave it alone. I’ll just embarrass him in front of everyone tomorrow,”
“Yeah? How ya gonna do that?” Mick asked, chuckling, and offering his hand to help his husband out of the chair.
Len got up without help, but Mick didn’t take it personally. He knew it only meant he wasn’t ready yet for skin-to-skin contact. But, he wouldn’t be in here if he didn’t want to be in Mick’s presence.
Mick watched him go over to where they kept their clothes, starting to change. He didn’t bother hiding how nice of a view it was. Hey, Len was a gorgeous man and that ass was pert and perfectly plump and round and being Len’s husband came with the perk of being able to ogle it whenever Len decided to turn it in his direction, clothed or not.
“I’ll think of something,” Len replied as he put on a pair of low-hanging sweatpants and a grey t-shirt. No underwear. Nice. Maybe tomorrow morning…
“I knew you liked him, too, somewhere deep down,” Mick teased his husband, since he seemed to now be in the mood to allow some joking.
“Oh hell no, don’t even. I can’t imagine the levels of intrusiveness I’d have to endure if we were actually friends,” Len shivered, but it was mostly a show, as he walked over to Mick and reached up to very gently and carefully take his husband’s reading glasses off, fold them, and set them atop the book.
“Ready for bed, then?” Mick asked, looking at his husband’s face and his hands, the set of his shoulders, to gauge his current comfort level.
Not good, but not as bad as it was.
“Yeah, but just sleep tonight, okay?” Len asked, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around Mick, pressing their bodies close and resting his head on the other man’s shoulder.
“Just sleep. No problem, Partner,” Mick replied, wrapping Len up in his arms and nuzzling into his short-cropped hair.
They stayed like that for a few more moments before finally Len stepped away and Mick let him go, turning to pull the blankets down. He got in first so that he’d be against the wall and Len would have access to the edge of the bed so that he could have an escape route should anyone burst in.
Usually it was the other way around, but tonight Len needed the reassurance of the open side of the bed and Mick was glad to give it to him. Anything to make his husband feel more secure. He wrapped his arms around Len’s waist and spooned up behind him, feeling a wave of protectiveness toward Len and wanting to add that little bit of extra security.
“Hey, Mick?” Len asked, once he’d turned the lamp off and they’d both settled in.
“Yeah, Len?” he asked, head resting near Len’s on the same pillow, eyes already closed.
“Would you have really beat him up for me?” Len asked, tone having a little lilt to it that Mick took for fond curiosity.
It made Mick’s own lips curl in a very faint smile.
“You know I would have. Still will, if you change your mind,” Mick replied, leaning to very gently kiss the back of Len’s neck, just a feathery brush of lips in case it wasn’t welcome.
The way Len snuggled into the bed said it was definitely welcome.