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Bo side-eyed you as he grumbled underneath his breath. Out of your peripheral you saw him adjust on the couch and turn the volume up on his wrestling match. The booming voice of the sports announcer drowned out any further comments of his displeasure and you went back to making dinner for the boys.
You had told Vincent a few days ago that him and his brothers should spend more time together and designated Friday as family dinner night. You had yet to tell Bo that Lester was coming and you simply invited Lester over when you saw him yesterday. By the way Bo was acting this was not gearing up to be a pleasant night. He cast one more nasty look in your direction and you decided that enough was enough.
“What is it, Bo?” Maybe asking him head-on was stirring the pot a little but you were past the point of caring. You had spent the better part of the day preparing everything for a nice evening and you weren’t going to let his attitude ruin it. The family had already kidnapped you and prevented you from leaving. At least Lester and Vincent were nice about it, Bo took every opportunity to antagonize you and make your life harder.
Scowling like you had insulted him, Bo spat, “Excuse me, but it’s Friday night and seein’ as I’m the only one in this goddamn house that’s got a job I’d like to spend it watchin’ my shows and havin’ a beer! Which I can’t do with the goddamn ruckus yer causin’ in there!” His southern accent poking through the angrier he got, he ended his tirade and turned the volume up once more.
Deciding that you were going to salvage this night if it killed you, you furrowed your brow and braced yourself to yell back at him. “I’m sorry if my cooking is too loud for you! I could just let you fend for yourself y’know! I’m surprised you could hear me over how loud the TV is. What is it at, 60?”
Turning back to the steaks you were cooking you mumbled, “Goddamn grumpy son of a bitch…” As you turned to put the pie in the oven you bumped right into the towering form of Bo Sinclair. You weren’t given much time to wonder how he had gotten all the way over here before he shoved his face right up close to yours. His hat was off and he had errant curls framing his face.
Breathing heavy he simmered, “What did you just say to me?” His voice was at a regular level and that in and of itself was almost as terrifying as if he were screaming.
But apparently it was not enough to deter you.
Not knowing where the suddence confidence came from you pushed your face closer to his and said, “Which part? When I called you helpless or when I called you a son of a bitch?” His cheeks were flushed from rage — or maybe alcohol — and your eyes went wide as you realized that you had really put your foot in your mouth.
Just then Vincent came up from the basement and stopped in the kitchen causing the two of you to look over at him. He tilted his head as if to ask: “What’s going on?” And when you looked back at Bo he simply scoffed and rolled his eyes. Ripping open the door to the fridge he snatched a beer before stalking off to the living room once more.
Letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding you looked over at Vincent who was now appraising the various dishes you made.
“Do they pass inspection?” His eye darted up to your face and you could see he was smiling as he nodded.
“Good, let’s just hope your brothers like it too.” Giving you a sympathetic look, as best he could with that mask of his, he grabbed the plates to start setting the table. The two of you worked in silence until you heard the familiar sound of Lesters truck pulling into the driveway. The two of you heard Bo shift in the living room and you gave Vincent a look that said: “Let the shit-show begin.”
“What in the fuck is he doin’ here at 7:00 in the goddamn evenin’?” You and Vincent snapped your heads to the doorway to see Bo glowering at the two of you.
Deciding to make it seem like you had invited Lester on a whim you replied, albeit shakily, “I saw him earlier and I thought he might like to have dinner with us.”
It seemed like fate was working against you because Lester chose that time to slam open the door and yell down the hallway, “Hey guys!”
Rounding the corner into the kitchen he started to say, “Hey Y/N, thanks fer inviting me yesterday, I sure do ‘preciate it. I been thinkin’ ‘bout whatcha said and I think you’re right. We should start to eat dinner as a family more-“ He looked up into the kitchen and was met with Bo glaring at him beneath the brim of his trucker hat.
Turning to you, Bo cocked an eyebrow and you could only wish that they had actually killed you when you first stumbled into Ambrose.
“Saw him earlier?” He drawled, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
“Thought he might want some dinner?” Realizing you had been caught red handed you looked to Vincent and Lester for some help. Vincent only shrugged and Lester seemed to have finally clammed up.
Bo’s voice increasing in volume made you whip your head over to him again. With you looking like a deer in headlights he continued, “Well, it seems like we have a fuckin’ contradiction on our hands here.”
Stepping into your personal space Bo sneered, “It’s bad enough that Vincent and Lester want you alive but don’t go thinkin’ yer apart of the family.”
Cursing yourself for cowering under his imposing form you mutter, “I’m sorry Bo, but you don’t have to be so ornery all the time.” His eyes grew wide and he opened his mouth to respond before Vincent put his hand on his brother's chest and pushed him out of your face.
Lester tried concealing his laughter as he giggled, “ornery” under his breath. Bo’s eyes narrowed and his jaw grew tense as he looked between his brothers and you. Exhaling harshly he ripped Vincent’s arm off of him and dragged one of the chairs out from the table.
Plopping down onto it he snapped, “Well as long as we’re all here we might as well eat some of this shit.”
Vincent glared at him as he brought the bowl of mashed potatoes to the table and Lester pulled out his own chair looking meekly at his lap. It hurt you to see the brothers fighting all the time and you couldn’t help but feel like your attempt at remedying it had gone down the drain before the night even really started.
The table was tense as everyone served themselves. You felt like one wrong move would cause Bo to start hurling insults at everyone. Lester helped himself to the mashed potatoes, grabbing a large spoonful of it. The precarious pile started to tip and before you could warn him he had the mush all down his shirt and lap.
You and Vincent looked at each other as Lester froze in shock. You were all waiting for Bo’s anger to explode but instead of biting insults and yelling all that came out of his mouth was a short chuckle. Glancing wide-eyed at Lester you tried to brace yourself for the inevitable fight that was sure to break out. Pushing your chair back from the table you scrambled to get more napkins in order to clean up the mess. As you turned back to the table Bo burst out in boisterous laughter. He threw his head back and banged on the table. You hesitantly turned to the other brothers for reassurance but they looked just as lost as you.
“You- You should have seen your face! Lester-!” He cut himself off with another round of raucous laughter.
“Lester- He- He looked so fuckin’ surprised! Like a deer in fuckin’ headlights!” By this point Bo was on the verge of tears and as his hooting and hollering continued Lester started to relax and laugh along as well. You looked over to see Vincent’s shoulders shaking as he laughed in his own silent way. Watching the brothers cut loose like this, you started to laugh as well. It began as chuckling until slowly all of you descended into hysterics, until the sounds of your giggles filled the entire room.
As the laughter died down, all of you were left smiling at each other and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness for the boys. They were deprived of this closeness and happiness for their entire lives. The more you thought about it the more you realized you had never seen any of them laugh that hard before. Feeling as though the evening had been revived, you all started to dig in after Lester cleaned up his mess.
The night wore on and the plates were swapped out for beer — for Bo, coffee, and tea. You sat around and watched as the brothers told what few happy memories they had from their childhood and once again you were hit with an overwhelming feeling of loss. In some sort of twisted way, they had become a sort of family to you and you felt as though you should try and contribute in a way that helps them. You may not be able to change their childhood, but now you were determined to give them as many happy moments as you could moving forward in order to make up for it.
Slowly Vincent rose from the table, gesturing that he had work to do in the basement. Before he turned to leave he placed his hand on your shoulder and gently squeezed it. You were a bit taken aback, as Vincent was generally more reserved. You smiled back at him to show your appreciation. Your attention was drawn to Lester as he slid his chair back from the table, smiling from ear to ear.
“I best be gettin’ home ‘fore it gets too dark to drive. This sure was great, Y/N. Thanks fer havin’ me, I had a ball.” His smile faltered and he looked as if he wanted to say more.
“Sure thing, Lester. Is there anything I can get you before you leave?” You furrowed your brow, wanting to know what was bothering him but feeling like it wasn’t your place to ask.
Wringing his hat in his hands his eyes flit between the ground and yours as he spoke once more, “Yeah, I was wonderin’ — if it’s not too much trouble — if’n I could come back fer supper again next week? O- Only if yer havin’ it.” He clenched his jaw as he looked at you wide-eyed, nervously awaiting your response. Your heart damn near broke for this man, looking so unsure. You wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let him go.
Holding your arms out you gestured for Lester to come hug you. He hesitated at first but after you said, “C’mere” he almost knocked the breath out of your lungs from how hard he hugged you.
While he was hugging you, you murmured, “Of course, Lester. You’re always welcome here. Even if you just want to drop by to chat.” Your eyes flitted over to Bo, expecting him to be upset that you had given Lester permission to come up to the house anytime he wanted. Instead, you saw him tracing the label of his beer bottle with an odd sort of half-smile on his face. He almost looked… sad. Or nostalgic. Maybe a combination of the two. Either way, you squeezed Lester once more before drawing back and holding him at arm's length. Looking him in the eyes, you cocked your eyebrow and he nodded back at you, a large smile splitting his face.
Stealing a cookie on the way out, he waved goodbye to you and Bo before yelling a goodnight down the stairs to Vincent. You were standing at the sink with your back to the rest of the kitchen when you heard Bo push his chair back. Looking over your shoulder you saw Bo leaning against the wall behind you with his arms crossed. Wondering why he was just standing there looking at you, you decided to ask him.
“What’s up, Bo? You gonna head to bed?” Turning back to the sink you waited for his response. You thought maybe he’d yell at you for inviting Lester without his say in it, or if he was in a good mood maybe even help with the dishes.
What you didn’t expect was to hear him say, “Nah, I’m gonna thank you.” Your head snapped around so fast your neck almost hurt. You couldn’t believe his words.
Chuckling at your slack-jawed stare he continued, “I know me ‘n Lester ain’t very close. I just don’t know how to handle ‘im sometimes. I sorta feel bad ‘bout it, seein’ as Vincent ‘n me are ‘bout as close as I can get.” Looking down at the floor he scuffed the toe of his work boot across the linoleum. He looked almost sheepish and if you were shocked before you were downright flabbergasted now. You had seen Bo show a lot of emotions — mainly anger and sometimes, when he was drunk enough, sadness. You had seen him flirt like hell and be sarcastic. But you had never seen him be as vulnerable as he was right now. You opened your mouth to respond but he cut you off before you could get a word in.
“But tonight… Tonight was real nice, even though you went behind my back to do it, sweetheart.” You knew that it must have meant a lot to him for Bo to even consider thanking you. Even if he was poking fun at you, you knew that this was about as open as he could get.
“Bo…” You hushed out, “You don’t need to thank me, I’m happy to do this for all of you. Even if I am being held here against my will, I guess I should pitch in somehow. Besides, I only feel bad that you guys aren’t as close as you could be.” Looking back at the dishes you expected the conversation to be over. For Bo to make some sort of snarky response or grunt in your direction before going on his way.
But it seemed like he just wanted to surprise you today because his hand fell on your shoulder and as he turned you around he said, “So Lester got a hug and I don’t get nothin’? That don’t seem mighty fair to me, seein’ as I’m the one who paid fer the groceries.” Your jaw fell open as you tried to comprehend what he just said. You were half tempted to ask what he had done with the real Bo because this was an obvious imposter.
Managing to stutter out a, “What” you slowly got your wits together.
“Am I not as good as Lester? Is that it? You like ‘im better than me?” Bo started to look more defensive and you gaped up at him.
“Bo, are you… Are you jealous?” You couldn’t believe your ears. Bo Sinclair, macho-man extraordinaire was jealous because you had given his brother a hug and not him. You couldn’t help but smile as Bo furrowed his brow and turned his head.
Scoffing, he stepped back from you and hissed, “No. Me? Jealous of that sorry son-uva-bitch that smells like rotting shit? No fucking way, forget I said anything.” He turned and started making his way out of the kitchen.
Chasing after him you laughed and yelled, “Bo! I’ll give you a hug if you want. All you had to do was ask!” You caught him by his sleeve in order to stop him. He turned back to you, still frowning and you moved forward and wrapped your arms around his torso. You felt him tense and his arms hovered awkwardly away from your body before he peeled you off of him. Grumbling to himself he stomped up the stairs and you were left shocked in the hallway listening to the echo of his door slamming.
Trudging back into the kitchen feeling slightly put out, you finished up the dishes before returning to your own room. As much as you wouldn’t like to admit it, it had taken you a while to fall asleep. You couldn’t help but remember how vulnerable Bo had looked earlier and how upset he was when you had finally hugged him.
Unless Vincent was still awake from working all night, you generally woke up before Bo. He liked to sleep in and often went down to the garage at 10 am. While getting out of bed you decided that a cup of coffee would be a good way to start the day. Walking into the kitchen you were surprised to see Bo already sitting at the table staring into a cup of black coffee. You flushed when you realized you were still in your pajamas and probably looked like a mess. Turning to the coffee-maker you cursed yourself for thinking that because you really had no business liking Bo like that. He was your captor for pete's-sake! But then again, Bo had no business looking that handsome.
Once you had your mug in hand you steeled yourself to meet his gaze and leaned your back against the counter. Looking closer at the man at the table you realized that his hair was ruffled and he had dark bags under his eyes. It looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.
“Good morning.” You figured if you asked what was wrong he wouldn’t say anything. He’d probably just yell at you, so you might as well act like there wasn’t anything weird going on.
He just grunted a reply and kept looking into his coffee mug. He didn’t look you in the eyes as he heaved a sigh and pulled himself out of his chair. Pouring his mug out then setting it down in the sink, he turned back to the table. Pulling his hat on he pushed in his chair before ambling down the hallway, his eyes trained on the ground the whole time. You stepped out after him and watched him make his way toward the door, your brow creased in concentration. Making up your mind you walked after him before stepping in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, obviously confused, before stumbling back from the impact of your hug. His hands hovered just like they did last night before you squeezed him tighter and he finally rested them on your back.
Speaking into his chest you told him, “I know I said all you have to do is ask, but I figured you wouldn’t do that.” You heard his chuckle rumble through his chest.
“Am I gettin’ that easy fer you to read?” He seemed just tired enough to not put up a fight at your words and instead went along with them.
Smiling into his sternum you responded, “Maybe, or maybe I just thought you looked like you needed a hug.” He tightened his arms around you before drawing back.
Considering your face for a while before an actual smile graced his features he said, “Maybe I did, sweetheart.” He squeezed your arm before stepping around you and grabbing his keys. You watched him through the screen door as he walked down the drive and started up his truck. Pulling out onto the road he stuck his arm out and waved before he disappeared around the corner ready to start another day in town.
As you watched him go you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, proud that you had gotten him to open himself up just a little bit, and hoping that he would allow you to do that more often.