“Words over three syllables require a kiss before I listen.” Rolly shook his head wildly to send a spray of water flying from his mop of dark hair. “You can start below the belt and work your way up if you like. Give your tongue a good workout to keep you from nagging me so fecking much.”
“Maybe later.”
Rolly gave his long-time lover a broad, crooked grin; his black eyes met Wes’s bright hazel ones. “Just a maybe?”
His heart and dick as always gave an interested kick as he looked up into Wes’s twinkling gaze. Returning his attention to the door, Rolly banged his fist against it for a second time. He didn’t need to be distracted.
They’d always been opposites.
Wes had tawny-coloured skin, marked with scars from the accident, and black hair, what little of it showed since he shaved it so closely. His eyes were the brightest hazel, almost jewel toned. He was steady and strong in both body and mind, and smart, too smart to be a simple rugby pundit.
Unlike Rolly, Wes had always towered over everyone yet managed to almost instinctually evoke a sense of calm in others. His calm and mild temperament helped matters quite a bit. He’d never gotten himself into trouble either on the pitch or off it.
On the other hand, Rolly always felt dull by comparison when he peered into the mirror. His hair and eyes were the colour of mud that contrasted against the pasty white skin he’d inherited from his mother. Short, stocky, and built to run a ball down the pitch—or he had been until the car wreck left him with a permanent limp.
The door opened with a sharp thud when it bounced against the wall behind it. Rolly broke out of his thoughts to find himself face-to-face with a wild-eyed, bare-chested Ivan. He hadn’t changed much in their almost ten years apart—still tall and solid, looking like an angry ginger Viking with stark blue eyes and a strong-set jaw.
“Well? In with you both. I’m not chatting out in the rain.” Ivan spun around and disappeared into the forge, calling to them over his shoulder. “Tea’s on. You’ll want some to help you warm up. Fire’s on as well, so go stand by it.”
“Check out his new ink.” Wes drew Rolly’s attention to the massive artwork covering Ivan’s back. The tattoo was a huge set of demonic-looking angel wings—dark and shadowy. “We should’ve come to visit sooner.”
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