Disclaimer: See initial chapter.
A/N: Smut, angst, and family feels. Apologies for grammatical errors. I use repetition and I am imperfect, I'm trying not to obsess over it.
Warning: This chapter features slash, and there is some foul language, and a bit of accidental voyeurism, though not exactly.
"Jax," Opie hissed, eyes darting toward the laundry room door as Jax's hand slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans to cup his ass.
"We shouldn't be doing this here." He kept his voice at a whisper, eyes glued to the door, as though, at any moment, he expected one of Jax's family members to walk in on them.
They were home for the four day weekend, and Gemma had pointed them directly toward the laundry room when Jax had lugged his laundry basket into view. Opie could've told him that that was going to happen, as a matter of fact, he had told Jax just that, but his friend, turned lover, had laughed and insisted that his mother wouldn't pass up an opportunity to, 'baby her oldest son'. Opie had brought his own laundry as well, intending to do it on his own. His dormitory's laundry room had been a hotbed of activity, and not all of it laundry related, the few days leading up to the holiday weekend.
Unrepentant, and unworried, Jax pushed Opie up against the washing machine, which vibrated against Opie's ass, and, smiling wickedly, nipped at Opie's throat, stubbled chin, and lips. Opie sucked his lip between his teeth, stomach flip-flopping, when Jax started to move his other hand up beneath his shirt and over his chest.
"Relax, Ope, no one's gonna walk in on us. Besides, I need this," Jax purred, grinding against Opie, who, in spite of himself was hard.
"You need this," Jax chuckled, his warm breath eliciting goosebumps along Opie's collarbone, and causing him to shiver in spite of the warmth of the room, and of Jax's body.
Opie gasped when Jax started moving against him, hand squeezing his ass, and Jax took advantage, sliding his tongue into Opie's mouth. Opie closed his eyes, hands gripping Jax's shoulders, he allowed Jax to guide the kiss, their tongues moving in perfect sync.
Worries sufficiently pushed to the backburner, Opie's body responded to Jax's touch, and sought for sweet release. The washer's vibration, coupled with Jax's ministrations, made thought nearly impossible. All of his blood had rushed southward, and he felt lightheaded.
They were new to this. New to the discovery of each other as more than just friends. And it was heady, exciting, terrifying. Opie knew that his father wouldn't approve of this. Hell, the man hadn't approved of his friendship with Jax in the first place. Hadn't approved of the Tellers who invited abused and abandoned children into their home on a regular basis. He'd thought that it was foolish and just showcased the family's arrogance, was biding his time until one of the kids they took into their home robbed them blind, or started a fire that took their home, or outright killed them.
Opie shuddered, involuntarily, as he thought about what his old man would do if he found out about his relationship with Jax, now that it had moved from that of friendship into something more. He knew, or, thought he knew, that his mother would still love him, no matter what. Even if he was gay, or just so into Jax that he could barely think straight half the time, but his father was a different matter entirely. No way would his father accept this.
"Hey, what's wrong?" Jax's lips brushed against his jaw, and Opie knew that he was going to have to wear a turtleneck if he decided to pay a visit to his father, because he doubted that there was an inch of his neck that hadn't been marked by Jax.
Opie tried to shake off his worry, tried to void his mind of the images that it had conjured up of his father's judgement of him - red face contorted in a quiet rage that would find release on his backside should his father learn what he was, what the man had tried, when Opie had first expressed the thought that another boy was 'pretty', to beat out of him when he'd been younger, and hadn't known what the words gay and straight and bisexual meant. His stomach clenched, and he pulled Jax closer, needing the warmth, the comfort, and the love that his friend had to offer, for as long as it would be offered to him.
Opie fought to regain control of his mind, an almost violent, animalistic need taking control of him as he latched lips and fingers onto Jax with bruising force, causing the man he'd secretly had a crush on since he was thirteen years old, to gasp, pupils blown wide. Instead of pulling away from him, as Opie half feared he would, Jax grinned and drew even closer, which, given the circumstances and where they were, was a challenging, though apparently not impossible, feat.
Neither man heard soft snick of the door being opened, both were far too gone for that, and the washing machine was on the spin cycle, whirring, and because something had gone off-balance, the towels glomming together, it started banging against the wall, making a racket that nearly drowned out the sound of the two of them panting and groaning and grinding against each other as hands gripped and groped, fingers teased and twisted, and tingling lips sought to be the very undoing of the other.
It was a tiny, shocked gasp of sound, followed by a muted thud, which caused Opie to realize that they were no longer alone, but he was far too gone, erection straining against the zipper of his jeans, seeking and gaining friction every time that washer shoved him against Jax. Jax was rubbing against him as well, and they were both too far gone to stop what was fast becoming imminent. His eyes locked on the small, wide-eyed figure, fingers locked on Jax's arms, digging and begging for release, Opie thought, Shit, fuck, but was unable to stop, because he was so damn close, and not even that look of horror on one of Jax's adopted sibling's face could put a damper on any of it.
Nonetheless, he closed his eyes, because he couldn't stand the look of shock and betrayal, and blatant, inexplicable fear that he could see in the child's eyes.
"Fuck, Jax," Opie said, because this was wrong. It had to be wrong, even though it felt so right. "We gotta stop."
They couldn't stop. He couldn't stop, even though he wanted to. Instead of causing Jax to back away, his words seem to have had the opposite effect, causing Jax to press against him and speed up. The fucking washing machine increased its speed as well, as though it too were conspiring against him to make him the happiest fucking man alive. He was being shoved back and forth between the machine and his lover, and it was almost too much to bear.
He focused on the dual sensation of the washing machine and Jax's rock solid body grinding against him, not on the pair of brown eyes set in a small, round face, that had popped into view moments ago. Focused on the way that Jax's body, heavy and firm, felt as the man crowded his space, became one with him insofar as Opie felt as though the world had ceased to exist outside of the two of them.
"Almost there, baby," Jax moaned, mouth sucking at Opie's throat, leaving another mark that Opie would be hard pressed to hide, hips bucking, unwittingly matching the rhythm of the washing machine at Opie's backside.
"Gonna." Opie's mind exploded in a kaleidoscope of colors. Body quivering, muscles seizing.
"Gonna come," he breathed out, and then groaned, bit his bottom lip nearly hard enough to make it bleed. Fingers digging into Jax's hips, pinning him there, aiding in the mounting tension between them, Opie writhed.
In the heat of the moment, he forgot that they had an eyewitness, and, burying his face against Jax's shoulder, he cried out, and came, juddering. Jax came shortly after, hips pistoning against his, slamming him backwards into the washer, slowing after he'd come.
His legs felt like jelly. If it hadn't been for Jax and the washing machine, which, in the aftermath, had moved onto the final stage of the spin cycle, the unbalanced towels somehow redistributing themselves, causing the loud whir-bang sound to cease, and leaving him with the sound of his and Jax's ragged breathing, overly loud in the cramped space of the laundry room, he would have crumpled to the floor.
"Fuck," Jax whispered against his lips, a wolfish smile in place as they kissed.
The young intruder, temporarily forgotten, Opie indulged in tasting Jax. The minty flavor of his mouthwash contrasted with the orange juice that they'd had this morning, before making the two hour drive home. Underlying it all was an almost coppery undertone that was all Jax. Opie couldn't get enough of it, now that he was allowed to taste. He groaned, leaning against Jax, legs like rubber, heart swelling.
"Stop it!" a little voice, filled with anger and fear and no small amount of bravery, said. "Stop hurting him!"
Opie broke away from the kiss, eyes darting to the little figure he'd forgotten about in the heat of the moment. Schooling his features, he had to stifle a laugh, because the little boy, Juan, if he remembered the boy's name correctly, was kicking Jax in the shins. His little fists were clenched tightly at his sides, and he was practically vibrating with anger.
Mouth set in a hard line and eyebrows drawn tightly together, he was a sight to behold, and Opie's heart lurched in his chest, because no one had ever stood up for him like that, aside from Jax, and that had come to be the expectation, because they stood up for each other. It was part and parcel of who they were, but this little boy was no relation to him, and didn't have any cause to defend him, let alone against one of his own.
"Shit," Jax swore quietly, and grimaced. Another well aimed kick to the shin had him wincing and taking a step back.
"You said a bad word," Juan stated. He crossed his arms over his chest, and drew in a shaky breath. He looked from Jax to Opie, eyes shining with concern, and an understanding that no child his age should have reflected in his eyes.
"An' you hurted him," he accused in a tremulous voice, glaring at Jax.
Moved by Juan's defense of him, and something else that Opie didn't fully understand, he knelt in front of the little boy. "Hey, it's okay. I'm not hurt."
Jax ran a hand through his hair and drew in a deep breath. His face twisted with self-recrimination, and he knelt on the concrete floor across from his adopted brother and his best friend.
"But he was...he..." Juan's eyes filled with tears and he started to shake. "Sorry, sorry." He shook his head and started backing away, tripping over his own feet.
"Juan, hey, it's okay," Opie said, looking at Jax for help, because this was well out of his area of expertise. Jax was the one going to school for child psychology, Opie was pre-law. He didn't know anything about how to talk to little kids.
"Jax didn't hurt me. He uh...that is, we...uh..." unsure of just how much he could tell a little kid about what had happened between him and Jax, he turned to Jax who had a goofy, lopsided grin on his face.
Completely exasperated and feeling like he was drowning, "We love each other," Opie blurted out.
Juan blinked at him and frowned, eyes narrowing as he searched Opie's face for the truth. He seemed to relax a little, arms falling to his sides, brows scrunching in confusion rather than anger and worry.
Jax nodded. "Yeah."
"But..." Juan's chest puffed up as he took a deep breath. He bit his bottom lip and seemed at a loss for words. "Why was he hurting you, then?" He shot an accusatory look at Jax who was doing his best to appear non-threatening.
It was an earnest question, and posed so matter-of-fact that Opie was at a loss for words. He looked toward Jax who shrugged in response.
"He wasn't hurting me, we were..." Opie trailed off. "You see when two people love each other..."
"They hurt each other?" Juan's forehead wrinkled as he thought it over.
Opie nodded, and then, catching himself, he quickly shook his head. "No, when two people really love each other, they don't hurt each other."
"Then why were you making that noise?" Juan asked, leaning toward Opie, voice lowering to a whisper, as he cast a look at Jax out of the corner of his eyes. He was deadly serious, and so upset that Opie was almost desperate to find a way to explain things so that the little boy would understand and not worry about him.
Seeing that Jax was doing his best to keep a straight face, Opie realized that he'd find no help from him. He was completely on his own and had no idea how to explain things like kissing and sexual gratification to a little kid.
"Juice!" a voice called out, and the little boy flinched.
He moved closer to Opie, leaning against him, he cupped a hand around Opie's ear and whispered, "Shh, I'm hiding from Tig. We's playin' hide'n'seek."
That explained why the little boy had come into the laundry room in the first place, though it did little to ease Opie's mind about the whole situation. He wondered if little kids were always so easily distracted, if they moved from topic to topic so easily, because he was still trying to work out in his mind how he was going to answer Juan's question.
"He says I'm not a good hider, on account a how I always make too much noise," Juan shared. "But I can be quiet. Honest." His lower lip protruded, and he gave Opie the impression that he'd been working hard on being quiet for a long time.
Feeling like he was suffering from whiplash, Opie nodded, and opened his mouth to agree with the little boy, but a finger was placed over his lips, and he was admonished, firmly, to, "Shush."
Juan's body quivered as he practically glued himself to Opie's side. Opie looked over to Jax, and, once again found the other man grinning at him, eyes shining with something that Opie really didn't want to examine at the moment, because Jax was being of no help whatsoever, and Opie's arms were now filled with a little boy who was trembling in fearful excitement, trying to hide himself inside of Opie's arms.
"Juicey, where are you?" Alex sang out.
The knob on the door to the laundry room jiggled, and Juan clamped a hand over his mouth and Opie's. Jax shook with ill-contained laughter as Opie looked to him, once again, for help that would not come. He was stuck, holding onto a little boy who, moments ago was a few shuddering breaths away from tears, and was now a breath away from screeching in play.
"Shh!" Juice whispered through the palm of his hand, and giggled.
Opie lifted the little boy as the doorknob twisted, and he searched for a better hiding place where Juan wouldn't be out in the open. Opie's stomach launched itself into his throat, and for a minute he felt every bit as nervous as the boy in his arms. He hadn't played hide-and-seek for years, maybe decades, yet the familiar gut-wrenching feeling of being caught was making him panic, which was no doubt comical if Jax's escaping guffaws of laughter were anything to judge by.
At the last second, as the door was swinging open, revealing a smug looking Alex, Opie found a spot to secure his little burden in, and shoved Juan into the small space between the dryer and the washer. He stood directly in front of the space, hiding Juan's body from view, trying to act casual as he sprawled against the now silent washer, and dryer.
Alex looked from Jax to Opie and cocked his head to the side, the smug look on his face quickly disappearing. He stepped further into the room, looking around a little warily.
"You seen Juice?" the question was directed at Jax, who shrugged, an innocent enough looking smile set in place. To someone who didn't know him any better, he would have appeared to be completely at ease. Opie, however, knew Jax very well, and could see through his facade.
"What about you?" Alex directed his piercing blue eyes at Opie, and Opie felt some of his resolve dissolving at the unveiled threat underlying the boy's icy gaze.
Opie shook his head. "Nope, haven't seen him."
Alex took a cautious step forward, trying to peer around Opie's frame, but Opie kept himself in place, and tried not to react when he felt Juan's hands pressing on the back of his calves, trying to pry them apart so that he could get a peek at what was happening. The little boy made a noise when his elbow or some other body part clanged against the washer, but Jax quickly covered up the sound with a cough.
Alex, though, was more than a little suspicious and looked from Jax to Opie, and then back again. He narrowed his eyes, dangerously, and placed his hands on his hips.
Lips quirked upward in a smile that would have looked angelic on any other child, Alex said, with authority that few master at such a young age, "Juice if you're in here, and don't come out, that's cheating, 'cause I found you, an' you have to come out. It's the rules."
Opie felt the little boy stiffen behind him, and heard the sharp intake of breath, which was covered by another cough, this time from him. Juan was going to cave, Opie knew that instinctually, and his heart went out to the little boy, because Alex was clearly playing on the little boy's sense of fairness and trying to make him feel guilty.
"B.S.," Jax said, moving from where he'd been standing to the washer. Lifting the lid he started pulling out the clothing, pretending that he'd dropped a sock so he could give Juan a quick smile and wink.
"If you had found the kid, then you wouldn't be in the laundry room pestering me and Opie about it. Seems to me that the rules of hide-and-go-seek are very clear in that regard. You've got to actually see the person that you're looking for in order to find him, not guess at where he is. Isn't that right, Ope?" Jax lifted an eyebrow.
Opie nodded, trying not to squirm when Juan's fingers wriggled a path between his calves. It tickled and it was all he could do not to jump away. Juan's fingers were bony, and thin, and the determined movements made Opie's skin crawl. It felt like there was a child-sized zombie behind him, and it was all he could do not to turn around and out the little boy, or put some distance between himself and those persistent fingers.
Instead of backing down, Alex canted his head to the side, and levied the both of them with a look that was eerie to see on a kid his age. It was a look that would've made Opie's father jab a finger in the face of the Tellers and smile a smug, I told you so.
"You two are hiding something," Alex stated with confidence, eyes sparkling, making him look much more like a child, and causing some of the tension to seep from Opie's shoulders. He felt foolish, nearly being cowed by a six or seven year old boy.
"Yeah, our dirty laundry," Jax said, laughing as he tossed his wet clothes into the dryer and started it. He draped an arm over Opie's shoulders, creating a united front, and grinned down at Alex.
Alex sighed and shook his head. "What're you two doing in here anyway? Watching the paint dry?"
Jax shrugged, unconcerned when Alex's jaw clenched. "Something like that."
Opie felt like he was facing some kind of inquisition, and wondered if Alex was considering becoming a detective or a lawyer. He'd be good at it. He had already perfected a steely look that could make others tremble, and, for one so young, he had an edge that was downright unnerving.
"Yeah, right." Alex crossed his arms over his chest and stared at them.
"Shouldn't you be out there, looking for Juice?" Jax prompted, using the little boy's nickname, and kicking his foot up against the dryer when the little boy in question banged against it.
"You can't fool me," Alex countered, standing his ground and jutting his chin. "I know he's in here. Where have you got him? And what are you really up to?"
"None of your business," Jax said, his grip tightening on Opie's shoulders as Alex's gaze narrowed.
"They're in love!" Juan shouted, and he shoved at Opie's legs in a manner that was more panic than anything else.
Opie stepped aside, ignoring the way that Alex's jaw had dropped in favor of checking on Juan. His face was flushed, and his eyes were wide, searching out and then latching onto Alex.
"You okay?" Opie knelt so that he was eye level with the little boy, blocking his view of Alex whose eyes were shooting daggers at Jax and him.
Juan nodded and stuffed his thumb into his mouth. He held his other arm up to Opie, and, though he was unsure what the little boy wanted him to do, he trusted his gut and picked him up. Juan sighed and rested his head against his shoulder.
"Baby," Alex muttered, looking down at his feet before raising his eyes and pinning Jax and Opie with a blue-eyed glare. "Were you two kissing in here? 'S'at why you were hiding in the laundry room?"
"Look, Alex, first of all, it's none of your business what Opie and I were doing in here. Second of all, we weren't hiding. And, third, you cheated," Jax listed, and he held up a finger when Alex opened his mouth to protest. Alex snapped his mouth shut and glowered.
"Didn't cheat," he mumbled, anyway, not quite looking at any of them.
"Making Juice feel bad is cheating," Jax said, and he crouched and tipped Alex's face up until he was looking him in the eye. The boy's cheeks were red and his eyes were shining.
Juan took his thumb out of his mouth, and craned his neck backward to look at Alex. "It's okay, Tig, I forgive you. An' don't worry, Jack's'ns not hurtin' Opie. It only just sounded like it." He scrunched his face up, and rested his head against Opie's shoulder once again.
"You love him?" Alex asked, jerking his head in Opie's direction.
"Not that it's any of your business," Jax sighed, and scratched at his head before smiling goofily at Opie, "but, yeah, I do."
A storm brewed in Alex's eyes before he hardened them and then pulled away from Jax. "How come?"
Jax blinked and looked to Opie for help who smiled and shrugged. Jax could have a taste of his own medicine, see what it was like to have a kid looking at him like that and not have a clue what to say.
"I think it's 'cause they're good friends," Juan spoke up. "Kin'a like us. 'Cept we don't kiss'n stuff." Juan's nose crinkled, and Alex looked a little horrified. Jax tried to keep a straight face.
"An' we don't do our laundry together," Juan added sagely, brow wrinkling.
Alex snorted. "'Course we don't. Miss Gemma does our laundry. We're too little for that. An' 'sides, we're brothers, Juice, we're not friends. Brothers is closer."
Juan seemed to consider his brother's words carefully and then nodded. "Can't Miss Gemma and Mr. John 'dopt Opie, too?"
"I'm a little too old for adoption, kiddo." The thought of it warmed him, though.
He'd grown up knowing the Tellers, being invited to family events. He'd often wondered what it would be like to have a big, loving family like Jax had. Even when Jax had run away that one time he'd still known that, when he came back, he had a place to stay and that his parents would still love him.
Opie's parents had divorced shortly after his twelfth birthday, and he'd been shuffled between one parent and the other. He'd always felt like when he was at one parent's home, he had to pretend to hate the other. And if he didn't spend an equal amount of time with each parent, he worried that they'd stop loving him. It had nearly torn him apart as a child and he hated it.
The Tellers had always kept their home open to him, and never expected anything of him other than to be Jax's friend. He'd never, though, in his opinion, been anything special to them. Would never be anything special to a family that took in kids on a constant basis. Though he could see how much Gemma and John loved the children they'd taken in over the years, Opie doubted that their love could be extended to him, especially not when his own parents couldn't seem to love him without some kind of stipulation attached to it.
He was just another kid hanging around the house. On holidays, he was another mouth to feed. He felt like an outsider looking in, and, though it wasn't the best position to have, he didn't want to ruin it, because, even if he never did belong, it was better being on the outside than being left out completely.
"Look, guys, you can't tell anyone about Jax and me," Opie said, stomach knotting with the thought of being kicked out and never being allowed into the Teller home again if Jax's parents found out about him and Jax, what they'd come to mean to each other.
"How come?" Juan titled his head to the side so he could get a better look at Opie. He was frowning. "Love's not bad, is it?"
"Well, Mr. and Mrs. Teller might not see it like that," Opie said, fumbling with words for what felt like the millionth time that day.
His palms were sweaty and his heart was beating a thousand times a second. He should've pushed Jax away, insisted that they cool it this weekend, wait until they were back at the dorms to continue exploring the physical nature of their relationship. It was still fairly new, in spite of the long held feelings that had for Jax, apparently feelings that had been reciprocated long before they'd been acted on one night at a frat party a couple of months ago.
"Yeah, how come?" Alex asked. "If it's not a bad thing, then how come you don't want us to tell Miss Gemma and Mr. John about it?"
"We'd just like to tell them in our own time," Jax answered, ruffling Alex's hair and laughing when the boy stuck his tongue out in retaliation. "So, please don't say anything, okay?"
Jax looked at each boy in turn. Alex shrugged and Juan nodded, though neither boy looked convinced and neither did Jax. He looked almost disappointed, and Opie felt as though something was sticking in his throat, like his heart. He felt like he was between a rock and a hard place, and it was no silly little proverb. If they came out to the Tellers Opie risked losing something he'd never had as a kid - the promise of a family - if he didn't, he might run the risk of losing the best thing that had happened to him, ever, Jax.
"I just don't want your parents to hate me," Opie confesses, voice quiet, and pinched.
"Why would they hate you?" Juan asked, face scrunched in puzzlement as he looked from Opie to Jax to Alex.
"'Cause boys ain't 'posed to like boys," Alex said, the duh unspoken but evident in his tone of voice, and the way that he rolled his eyes.
"That's stupid!" Juan slammed his fists against Opie's chest. "I love you, an' I love Filip, an' I love Clay, an' Mr. Bobby, and Mr. John, an' Jack's'n, an' the on'y boys I don't like are the ones that hurted me, an' Opie said Jack'sn wasn't hurtin' him. Miss Gemma an' Mr. John still love me, don't they?"
"Of course they love you," Opie said, quick to reassure. "They won't ever stop loving you."
"Then how come you think they won't love you just 'cause you love Jack'sn?" Juan wondered, looking at Opie as though he thought the man had lost his mind. Opie was starting to think that maybe he had.
"It's because he loves, loves Jax, not like a brother, you know, like how Miss Gemma loves Mr. John, and Mr. John loves Miss Gemma," Alex explained, voice taking on a patient, if exasperated, tone.
"Oh," Juan said, eyeing Opie thoughtfully, face falling a little, and then brightening up. "Are you gonna marry Jack's'n?"
The sound of a throat clearing saved Opie from having to answer the innocently spoken question, but he nearly dropped Juan when he saw Gemma standing in the doorway. She had an indiscernible look on her face, and Opie's heart fell to his stomach. This was it, the moment of reckoning, and Opie wondered how he was going to give up, not only Jax, but this family he'd enjoyed experiencing on the peripheral.
"Boys, it's almost time for dinner, go wash up," Gemma said, nodding at Alex and Juan.
Juan scrambled out of Opie's arms after giving him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. With a wave toward Jax, he raced Alex out of the room. Both boys nearly collided in the door frame, and they shoved at each other. Opie wished he could join them, or melt into the floor.
Gemma walked over to him, and Opie's heart stilled before it started hammering in his chest, loud enough to deafen him. An apology was on the tip of his tongue, but it was glued to the roof of his mouth.
When Gemma lifted a hand to his cheek, he flinched, expecting a slap. Instead, she cupped his cheek and then pulled him in for a hug.
"Honey, you don't have to worry about John and I hating you, ever. We love you, no matter what, you're as much a part of our family as Jackson and the rest of the boys are. Nothing's gonna change that. And, let's just say that this, what's happening between my son and you," she said, pulling back a little so she could look him in the eye, "it's not exactly news to me." Gemma kissed him on the cheek and then rubbed at the lipstick she'd left there.
"Now, like I told my other boys, dinner's almost ready, you two need to go wash up." Gemma gave each of them a pointed look, and Opie felt heat crawl up his neck, straight to his ears.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, looking down, praying that Gemma hadn't noticed the wet spot on his and Jax's jeans, that the boys hadn't noticed them.
"Call me ma'am one more time, and you'll be sitting at the kiddie table," Gemma threatened.
Jax chuckled, and he slung an arm over Opie's shoulders. "Told you we didn't have anything to worry about," he said, pulling Opie into a kiss.
"Dinner's not waiting for you," Gemma warned, patting Opie's arm.
"Don't worry, Mom," Jax said, though his lips never left Opie's. "We haven't come all this way to miss dinner."
Opie's heartbeat evened out, and the remaining tension bled from his shoulders. "Sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry about." Jax shrugged off the apology. "Of course Mom will probably be planning our wedding, and, from the looks of it, Juice is going to be right smack dab in the middle of all of it."
Opie groaned, and blushed. "Shit."
"Yeah, shit about covers it," Jax agreed, laughing.
"You two going to do laundry all through dinner?" John asked, causing both of them to jump.
"Uh, no, Mr. Teller, we were just, uh..."
"Doing laundry," John supplied. "You know, Jackson, your mother and I used to do our laundry in this very same room."
Jax closed his eyes and groaned, broke off the kiss as if they'd been doused with a cold bucket of water. When Opie chanced a look at John, the man's eyes were twinkling and his lips twitching with laughter.
"Welcome home," John said, giving each of them a hug, and a pat on the back. "About time the two of you figured out what was what," he added. "And that you came out of the laundry room." He chuckled at his own joke.
Rolling his eyes, Jax reached for Opie's hand and pulled him along behind him. Opie had a feeling that this Thanksgiving break was going to be one that he'd remember for the rest of his life.
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