Chapter Eighty Three

...

Victor frowned at his mother, wondering what she was up to. "What are you up to, Mother?"

Edith looked to her son and smiled. "I'm going out for the day."

"I can see that. Why are you taking the twins?" Victor asked.

"Because Frieda, Babs, Hyacinth, and I plan on spoiling them silly. We can't spoil them if they're not with us, can we?" Edith asked brightly.

Victor's eyes narrowed. "Mother..."

Edith laughed and kissed his cheek. "Don't worry, dear. They're growing so fast, we won't buy them more than three outfits each."

Victor sighed. "Mother, you know that Ry and Connor are coming over to visit the twins, just like they've done every weekend for the past three weeks."

A surprised expression crossed his mother's face, but it was one that Victor didn't believe for a minute. "Oh, my. I completely forgot about that. I don't think they'll mind just visiting you, dear," she said, smiling once more and patting his hand.

Victor pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?"

Edith cooed at Elijah and Elliot, hugging them close and setting them in their stroller. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, dear."

He didn't even have to look at his mother to know that was a lie.

The first time Connor and Ry had visited, Victor had been so exhausted, he'd fallen asleep on Connor's shoulder halfway through Tangled. He'd woken up when Elijah had squealed loudly, looking over to see his son bouncing and babbling along with Ry and Craig's singing. Victor had realised he was still leaning on Connor and sat up like a shot, his heart pounding. Connor had simply smiled at him, his hazel eyes warm, which made Victor's heart pound harder still.

The second weekend, Victor hadn't fallen asleep, which was somehow worse and better at the same time. Being awake meant he could see Connor, could watch him as he laughed and played with Elliot and Elijah, could see the softening of his features when one or both of the twins babbled at him. Victor had needed to leave the room several times, just so he wouldn't hug the man for no reason other than he looked like he needed a hug.

Last weekend, Elijah and Elliot were the ones who slept, so Ry and Craig played rock, paper, scissors to determine what movie to watch. They'd settled on the Bill, Plati, and Chimp vs. the Space Octopus, which Victor hadn't even known they owned. Connor had sat on the lounge, looking to Victor with a smile that made his knees weak and his head foggy. Victor had offered food and drinks, both teens eagerly accepting, and he'd left the lounge room gratefully. He needed some time and space to think.

While he was opening a packet of chips, Connor had wandered into the kitchen. The chips were forgotten in an instant, Victor unable to look away from Connor as he walked over to the fridge to help with the drinks. He walked with the sort of magnetism that dangerous animals had, stalking, luring, and hypnotising their prey with their hips and shoulders and muscles and ass... Victor shook his head, the analogy no longer making sense. Still, he couldn't help but watch Connor's large hands as he twisted the cap off the drink bottle, his muscles tensing and Victor's mind wondering what it would be like to have those big, strong hands on him.

Three days later, Victor was exhausted. He'd taken on a new case, and the twins had decided to alternate with their crying bursts for the last three hours, and not even Craig had been able to settle them. Victor should've been so exhausted that he fell right to sleep, but his mind had brought up that image of Connor again.

His traitorous dick had hardened almost immediately. He hadn't masturbated in months, probably not since Cara had been imprisoned, and the realisation made Victor wonder if this thing with Connor was just lust. Just a misguided thing because Connor was interested and beautiful and caring, and Victor was a sleazeball who latched onto the first person who'd flirted with him. Feeling disgusted at himself, Victor had shut his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep. It hadn't worked since his dick was hard and wanting attention, and he'd finally given in. Victor had thought of his usual masturbation material, but nothing felt right.

Hell, even thinking about other guys didn't work. That guy had Connor's eyes, that guy's lips reminded him of Connor's smile, that guy's shoulders weren't broad enough, that guy's hands weren't the right size or shape, and none of them were Connor, looking at him like he didn't believe he was real. Thinking of Connor, he'd orgasmed in a few minutes, his vision going white as he thought of Connor's mouth on his dick. After cleaning himself up, Victor had stared up at the ceiling, wondering just how he was going to face Connor on the weekend.

Now it was the weekend, and thanks to his conniving mother, he'd be with Connor without the twins as a barrier.

At least Craig and Ry would be there, Victor thought with a small sigh of relief.

"Seeya, Victor!" Craig called.

"Wait, what? Where are you going?" Victor asked, heading out of his room to go downstairs.

"Gotta shift at the Hive. Oh, hey, Ry. Wanna come to the Hive with me?" Craig offered.

"Sure."

"You're all going out?" Connor asked, his warm voice making Victor stop short of the landing.

He thought back to their conversation after Connor had practically thrown himself across the foyer to catch Elliot. Connor had looked him over and said "I'm sure anything you have will fit just fine" like he wasn't suggesting the thing Victor thought he was suggesting. He then had the audacity to lick his beautiful damn lips like he'd wanted to eat Victor up. Or possibly eat his ass, the thought of his mouth and stubble making Victor actually tremble.

Victor wondered if he could hide. Similar to how he was hiding now, just like the grown 28-year-old adult he was, of course. Shit.

"We're giving Victor the afternoon off. I'm heading to Adam's later, so I won't be back 'til tomorrow," Craig said, which was news to Victor. "You wanna come too, Ry?"

"You don't mind?"

"Nah, it'll be fun. You and Adam can play video games, and I can raid the pantry. Win-win."

"Let me know when you go raiding, I'll help," Ry said with a laugh.

"Frieda's offered for me to stay at her home as well. I think she just wants more time with these beautiful babies," Edith cooed, which again, was news to Victor.

"I hate you all," Victor groaned softly, knowing exactly what his family were doing.

He had the rest of the day - and night, by the sounds of it - to spend time with Connor. Victor wondered what he was feeling: excitement or concern. He didn't truly expect Connor to do anything - the suggestive flirting and intense stares aside, Connor was allowing Victor control in every facet - and Victor couldn't help but feel disappointed by this realisation.

"We're leaving now, dear! Enjoy your evening!" Edith called out.

Victor couldn't let them leave without saying goodbye, without seeing them one more time - he'd let Cara leave with the twins that day months ago without saying goodbye, and she hadn't come home again.

Stepping out from his hiding place, Victor headed down the stairs and to the foyer. "Goodbye, Mother. Say hi to the girls for me. Call me if anything happens, or even if it doesn't. I'll call you to say goodnight to the boys. I'll call you too, Craig. Be good for Ida and Curtis."

"I always am," Craig said, grinning. He hugged Victor tightly. "See you tomorrow. C'mon Ry; you can help me put the twins in their car seats."

"Bye, Papa. Have fun," Ry said, kissing his cheek before following after Craig, talking to Elijah and Elliot.

"Bye, dears!" Edith called over her shoulder as she headed to the car.

Connor and Victor both waved goodbye as Edith drove away. Victor watched the car tail lights disappear, trying to gather his strength and compose his voice.

"Do you want to go to bed?" Connor asked, his voice warm.

If Victor hadn't been leaning against the door frame, he would have fallen over. "What?"

"It's your first afternoon off in what's probably forever; I know what it's like to need sleep with a baby, and you've got two," Connor said with a grin, his eyes sparkling as though he knew exactly what his double entendre had done to Victor's knees. "Your mother doesn't need to know," he added, winking.

Victor couldn't help his laugh. "Trust me, my mother would find out. She's probably employed the neighbours to report to her the minute you leave."

"Well, then I'd better come inside, shouldn't I? Wouldn't want your mother's network of spies to lose their jobs," Connor said.

Victor laughed again and stepped back. "Come on in."

Connor stepped over the threshold with a smile that reached his beautiful hazel eyes. Victor had to curl his fists so he wouldn't drag Connor inside by his shirt. He couldn't help but wonder what his mouth would feel and taste like.

"Do you want something to eat? Or drink?" Victor added quickly when Connor's gaze darkened.

"I could eat."

Victor swallowed, nodded, and forced himself to head to the kitchen. Connor was only a step or two behind him, and Victor could practically feel the heat of his gaze, and could certainly feel the heat of his body, his warmth radiating as though it was reaching out to curl around him. Weirdly, Victor felt safe in that invisible embrace.

"We've got chips and pretzels, or there's leftover spaghetti if want something more substantial?" Victor offered.

"Chips and pretzels sound good. So, any plans for the evening?" Connor asked as they reached the kitchen.

Victor shook his head. "I honestly thought we'd be watching Tangled for the hundredth time."

"Anything on your list?"

"List?" Victor asked curiously.

Connor grinned. "When Ry was younger, I had a list of things I wanted to do when I had time to myself. It wasn't things I needed to do around the house, though that list seemed to get longer every day, it was things for myself alone. Top of the list was sleep, of course, but there were other things like watch TV, read a book, get a massage, eat a meal in a restaurant wearing clothes that didn't have baby spit or food stains," he said, laughing and shaking his head. "Totally normal things, but they seemed unattainable at the time."

Victor smiled. "I don't have a list like that, but I like the idea. Have you done all the things on your list, then?"

"Nearly all of them. Though I admit, there's a number of things I'm willing to redo with the right person. Things I'm willing to wait for," Connor added, his gaze intent and lingering on Victor for a long moment.

"That... that's good. That you're willing to wait."

"I'm a very patient man, Victor. I'll wait as long as needed," Connor said.

"No timeframe?" Victor asked, a wry smile on his face.

"No timeframe," Connor confirmed.

Relief washed through Victor at the promise and his smile turned genuine. "Thank you, Connor."

He grinned and winked. "I've found the best things in life are worth waiting for, darling."

Victor definitely needed to sit down. "How about we watch a movie that doesn't have singing or animated characters?"

Connor laughed, head tilted back and throat exposed. "Sounds perfect."

...

"Good evening, Jetstream. Is now a good time?" Layla asked, knowing that the Strongholds were having a dinner party with the Mayor. She'd organised it herself, after all.

Josie smiled at the Mayor and his wife. "Will you excuse me for a moment?" she asked, standing from the table and heading to the lounge room. "All right, I'm ready."

"There's three villains in the next week that want to fight yourself and the Commander. Thursday at 1pm, Saturday at noon, and Monday at 11am."

Pre-booked house showing at Thursday noon; viewing for an apartment in downtown Maxville at 1pm on Saturday; and a fully-booked day on Monday with deals and end of month finances.

"Is there any negotiation on the times?" Jetstream asked.

"Unfortunately not, Jetstream. They are willing to fight just the Commander instead of you?" Layla offered.

Josie's jaw clenched at that, being far too forcibly reminded of the journalists who wanted more and more time with the Commander rather than herself. Six minutes each was slowly turning to four minutes for her and eight minutes for Steve. If he fought the villains by himself, then he would get all of the time to himself.

Josie wasn't a fool; she knew that her most recent meeting with the Super Bureau could backfire spectacularly. She also knew that some the Super Bureau had "recommended" some supers to go inactive. If Jetstream wasn't seen as useful, as necessary in the fight against villains, Josie knew she would end up inactive whether or not she wanted to retire.

"We'll both be there," Josie said, her voice and chest tight.

"That's wonderful to hear, Jetstream. I look forward to seeing your fights," Layla replied with a smile.

"Uh, dear? Where's the cranberry sauce?" Steve asked in a whisper from the doorway.

"I have to go," Josie said, ending the call before Layla could reply and following her husband to the kitchen where the cranberry sauce was sitting right there on the bench.

...

"Hippie? You're getting a little thorny there; what happened with the Strongholds?" Warren asked, seeing thorns on her hands.

They were in the oasis, leaving Craig, Ry, and Adam in the Hive to play cards when Ry had shyly produced a deck. The last they'd seen, Ry was cleaning the floor with Craig and Adam, taking six puddings as his winnings.

Layla sighed and put her phone away. "I should've expected Josie to hang up on me, but it was far too fun to interrupt her dinner with the Mayor."

"That's still rude. Want me to burn her ash?" Warren offered, tugging her onto the bed to kiss her.

"Oh, definitely. Not right now though," Layla said, letting Warren distract her with kiss after kiss. "When is Honey picking you up for work?"

"About an hour. Far too soon," he muttered, slipping his hand under her shirt.

"Mmm," Layla agreed, moving to straddle Warren's thighs.

He smiled up at her with his warm and broad smile that never failed to make her melt. A hint of mischievousness came from the tattoo on her wrist, all the warning she was given before Warren flipped them over, his hands firm on her waist as he pulled her flush against his hips.

"Enough time to get you off though," he said, the words and his tone a challenge and promise all in one.

Layla laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss him eagerly. "Good luck."

Warren kissed her once more before tugging her shorts off unceremoniously. He grinned and slipped down the bed to spread her legs with warm hands.

...

"Can I ask about your tattoos?" Victor asked, almost hesitantly, as if he'd thought about the question for weeks but hadn't wanted to ask.

"You can ask me anything you like, darling," Connor said.

It had been almost five hours since Connor had first called him 'darling' and Victor didn't think he'd ever get used to the fluttering feeling he felt every time he heard the endearment.

"What do they mean?" Victor asked.

"They're a reminder to me of the things that are important in life," Connor said a moment later, looking to his arms. "They remind me of where I've been, of my family, my love and happiness in life. The things I have to look forward to or experience, and the gratitude that I feel for being alive every single day," he said, sounding haunted as he ran his fingers over some of the scars that the tattoos covered.

Victor didn't know what to do or say. The emotion in Connor's voice felt like a spear had pierced him through his chest. He reached across the short distance between them and squeezed Connor's hand gently. "I'm glad you're here and alive, too," he said, hoping it was the right thing to say.

Connor looked to Victor, his eyes and mind clearing the memory's fog that had taken hold. "Thank you, Victor."

Hearing his name said with the same tone as Connor's use of 'darling', Victor couldn't help but smile, that same fluttering feeling in his chest.

"God, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?" Connor asked, his voice soft and wondrous.

Victor couldn't actually remember a time anyone had ever called him beautiful. Handsome, certainly, though he doubted his mother counted. Cara hadn't called him anything endearing since their honeymoon.

"I've reminded you of her again, haven't I?" Connor asked.

Victor nodded briefly, glad that Connor understood and didn't mind that he was still an emotional wreck.

"Well, I'm sorry for that, darling. You deserve more than her memory; someone who'll love you every day," he murmured, turning his hand around to squeeze Victor's hand briefly.

Victor couldn't bring himself to respond - he didn't know what to say anyway - so he simply pressed play for the movie to continue. Connor didn't move his hand away, and Victor didn't want to let go of that warmth or strength, feeling as though Connor's touch might be enough to completely erase Cara's one day.

His relationship with Cara had been explosive in a way he thought could be controlled. It had been a blaze of flames, arguments more often than not towards the end, as Cara was obsessive about keeping the twins with her and hardly let Victor see his own children. She'd been the epitome of a fiery redhead, and Victor thought that it was something he'd loved about her. Now he wasn't so sure.

Even with little more than the lingering glances and current hand-holding, Victor could already feel the difference with Connor. It wasn't a spark away from exploding, despite the passion he could feel beneath the surface of his own skin and see when Connor's eyes darkened. Rather, it was an ember being softly and carefully nurtured back to life, a steady flame that they would both hold and protect.

Victor already felt safe and loved simply by being in Connor's presence, and more importantly, knew that his sons and Craig were adored by Connor as well. If Victor hadn't seen the warmth and adoration when Connor looked at Elijah, Elliot, or Craig, then he would have stayed away, no matter his own heartbreak. His family always came first.

...

Josie was still upset at the interruption to their dinner - the conversation had continued without her, and she'd been lost on returning - not to mention she'd heard the Mayor say something about how the turkey was dry. It was turkey, for goodness sakes!

"I just said that I didn't get my trophy, dear. I wanted to know who Forcefield was; I might've been able to get their mask," Steve said, confused as to why Josie was so annoyed.

"Forcefield's in Maxville's Super Penitentiary, Steve, along with every other villain we've defeated. Do you honestly want to go there and have to see all of those villains again?" Josie asked pointedly.

Steve wondered which answer would be deemed correct in his wife's eyes: yes or no?

Josie rolled her eyes when Steve deliberated and didn't respond. "No, Steve. You can't see her."

"Her?" Steve echoed, his frown deepening. "You... you know who Forcefield is, don't you?"

She was obviously off her game if she'd made such a simple mistake. Her husband could be stubborn at times, and Josie knew that this was one of those times. All over a damn trophy.

"Yes, Steve, I know who Forcefield is. You know her too. Remember Lance, the kid with gravity?" she prompted.

"But Lance is a man."

Josie forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly. "Yes, Steve, Lance is a man. Lance had a daughter, she inherited her father's powers, and she attacked us."

Steve seemed relieved, then confused again. "But why? We know Lance."

"Lance went inactive recently. Forcefield probably blames us," Josie said, rolling her eyes. "Now, are you done? I've had a long day, I'm tired, and I want to go to bed."

"Of course, dear. Oh, and I thought your turkey was great," Steve said.

Josie smiled, some of the tension leaking from her shoulders at his compliment. "Thank you, dear. Don't spend too long on the X-box," she said, kissing him briefly.

"Yes, dear."

As Josie prepared for bed, she wondered why she even bothered inviting the Mayor over for dinner, when it was obvious he didn't recognise her culinary greatness for what it was. He was such an ungrateful man, and she hadn't even called him out on the fact that he wasn't even scheduling the fights for herself and Steve as he'd promised.

Unfortunately, Josie knew the answer far too well: the Mayor's support meant super-friendly funding and, more importantly, promotion and merchandise. It was the difference between selling herself on a cereal box and selling herself on the street. Slight exaggeration, but the difference was important and large.

Her nightly routine finished, Josie went to bed and desperately tried to think of a meal that the Mayor wouldn't complain about. Everyone liked Mexican food, right?

...

"Just because you won the puddings, it didn't mean you had to eat the puddings," Honey said to Ry as a greeting.

"I only regret the last three," Ry said, Craig snickering beside him.

"Told ya, dude."

"What were you guys playing anyway?" Warren asked, coming up along the path hand in hand with Layla.

"Go Fish," Adam replied. "Poker's got too many rules, and Craig sucks at that game anyway."

"Hey, I suck at every card game."

"Is that something you really want to be proud of?" Layla asked as she climbed into the minivan behind the trio, Warren sitting beside her.

"Yeah, kinda. There are worse things to be proud of," Craig said with a grin and shrug. "Hey, Honey. Are Connor and Victor getting it on?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Both Adam and Ry nudged him.

"No one wants to know the answer to that, dude," Warren said, tugging on one of Craig's curls.

"They're not, but they are having fun. They're watching Weekend at Bernie's. They might even be onto the sequel by now," Honey mused.

Craig snorted. "Seriously? Why not something cool like... oh, I don't know, but anything better than that?"

"Connor's not a fan of movies with excessive violence," Honey replied simply, her tone not allowing for further discussion.

She turned the radio on, grinning as she moved to a country station and started singing along loudly and off-key. Craig glanced at Ry, as though curious for an explanation, but then he shrugged and started to sing along with Honey. Beside him, Adam winced at the combination of their voices and tugged his headphones on, blissfully flicking the noise cancelling switch on.

Ry was relieved that he wasn't going to be questioned. His Papa's past wasn't a topic he was comfortable with talking about; besides, it was up to Connor to tell them about it, not him. He hummed along with the radio when the chorus returned, the words easy enough to pick up, and reminded himself that his Papa was alive and they were safe. On his lap was the jar of honey he'd filled and Ry held it loosely so he wouldn't lose it in the dark car.

Layla and Warren glanced to each other, feeling the vines sharpening and whispering under their skin. Soon.

...

Connor couldn't stop himself from smiling. He and Victor had finished Weekend at Bernie's 2, then spent the rest of the night talking and laughing.

Somehow, they'd managed to get into an argument over the proper words for 'I see the light', so Victor had put Tangled on to prove that he was right and Connor was wrong. They'd ended up watching the rest of the movie and Victor had fallen asleep tucked against Connor's chest. Connor hadn't dared to breathe too much in case he woke Victor up, moving his body in slow increments until they were both comfortable.

He'd woken up early this morning with Victor asleep on his chest, hugging his arm like a teddy bear, and softly snoring. Connor had brushed his hair back gently, wondering how anyone could ever hurt a man so wonderful and brilliant, not just on the outside, but on the inside as well. Victor loved Elijah and Elliot so much he practically vibrated with it, and that love had extended to Craig as well. He loved so fiercely, so wholly, that the intensity of it could have scared lesser a man. Connor simply hoped that one day, that love might be directed towards him and Ryuu as well.

He had stayed awake for some time, just watching Victor sleep peacefully against his chest, but had eventually fallen asleep again. The next time he woke, Victor was awake and clutching a coffee mug like he'd die without it. Connor had greeted him, his voice thick from sleep and maybe a hint of lust, and Victor had blushed so beautifully in response.

They'd had coffee together, Connor keeping the conversation to a minimum while Victor wasn't firing on all cylinders. He'd washed his mug, thanked Victor for the lovely evening, and after putting his boots back on, Connor had made to leave. Victor had kissed him chastely, hardly more than a brush of lips, but he looked aware and awake when he pulled away. Connor had so very desperately wanted to back the man up against the closest surface. He'd refrained and instead cupped Victor's cheek, trailing his thumb along the beautiful man's lips, watching his eyelashes drift shut.

"The reality of waking up with you in my arms this morning was far better than my dreams, darling. I can't wait to do it again," Connor had said, pressing the lightest of kisses over his thumb as another way to restrain himself, and then left before he did everything he was imagining.

Now, almost four hours later, Connor was still smiling about it.

"Have you text him yet?" Ry asked from his yoga mat.

"Hmm?"

"You're smiling, so you're obviously thinking about Victor again. Have you text him yet?" Ry repeated.

"Uh, no. Am I meant to text him?" Connor asked; wasn't there a rule about those things?

"Yes. If you're thinking about him, you're meant to text him," Ry said, rolling his eyes.

Connor moved to the seated forward fold position, a small frown replacing his smile. "I don't have that much credit on my phone plan."

Ry laughed so hard that he almost fell over from his crow pose.

Connor grinned at the sound, his mind soon turning to the task of what message he should send to Victor.

...

Connor: I had a great night. We should do it again some time. Take care, darling.

Victor re-read the message for what felt like the hundred-billionth time in three days, a warm feeling unfurling in his chest yet again. He'd replied with an 'I'd like that. You too' but he hadn't had time to organise anything since.

The new legal case he'd taken on was swamping him and taking all of his time. He needed to spend as much time and energy on it as possible so his innocent client wouldn't be wrongly persecuted or imprisoned. Despite his need to keep his client out of prison, Victor kind of hated how much time he was missing with his family, and the potential time with Connor.

Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he returned his attention to his client's case, wishing there were more hours in the day.

...

End of the eighty-third chapter.