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Will playfully tugged on the hem of his jacket. “Hungry?” Obviously he was.
“I haven’t eaten yet,” Sebastian admitted.
Will blinked. He hadn’t… eaten yet? He checked the clock on the wall. It was almost nine in the evening. Will could not imagine still not having had dinner at that time of night.
“We have leftovers if you want some?” Peyton asked. He pulled a pair of shorts off the back of the couch and tugged them on.
“I’d love some,” Sebastian said.
“Allergic to anything?” Will asked.
Sebastian shook his head no. He toed off his dress shoes and bent, placing them beside the door, giving them a nice view of his ass. Both Will and Peyton tilted their heads to better appreciate it and the way his slacks tightened in all the right places.
Peyton nudged Will in the side.
Oh. Food.
Will opened the fridge to get out the chicken casserole leftovers. It had been a quick and easy meal since neither of them had been up to making anything elaborate. Will’s day hadn’t stopped from the moment he’d pulled on his uniform; and Peyton had been at Aubrey’s half the day, doing paperwork and working out the next few weeks—because Peyton was incapable of simply resting and would go stark raving mad if he was left to his own devices that long—and then he'd spent the rest of the afternoon with his mum, which Will knew was a different kind of exhaustion.
Peyton put a bowl on the counter, took one look at Will, and then added a second one.
Will gave him a kiss in thanks, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to take a quick taste. The man knew him well.
“How is your shoulder?” Sebastian asked.
“Bit sore, nothing I can’t handle.” Peyton shrugged and then winced.
“You keep forgetting not to do that,” Will said, pointing a fork at him. “Go sit down. When did you take your painkillers last?”
“Before or after you fucked me into the mattress?” Peyton asked dryly.
“After, obviously.” At Sebastian’s look, Will asked, “What was it exactly that you were doing in Quinn’s bed this morning? I was careful. He’s just being a pest. Get some Nurofen and sit down, Peyton.”
“So bossy.” But he did as he was told, so Will didn’t threaten him with the wooden spoon.
“Say when,” Will said as he spooned the casserole into a bowl.
Sebastian watched strangely carefully before telling Will to stop once it was halfway full. Will put in another two spoonsful for good measure and then stuck it in the microwave.
He put double the amount in his own. There wasn’t enough left over to warrant putting the whole glass dish back into the fridge, so he put the rest of it in a smaller bowl before putting cling film over it and sticking it back in the fridge.
Sebastian took the packet of Nurofen from Peyton’s hand and helped pop two out. Peyton dry swallowed them, and Will grimaced. He’d tried that once, and the pill had gotten stuck in his throat. It had been a traumatic experience, and even reliving it through an intermediary was enough to curl his stomach.
Sebastian smoothed Peyton’s hair from his forehead. He ran a thumb under his stitches. “It’s healing well,” he murmured.
“I’ll be pretty again before you know it.”
There was a hint of laughter in Sebastian’s voice as he said, “Well, that’s a relief.” He kissed the top of Peyton’s head before sitting beside him.
Will handed Seb his bowl and a fork and put a glass of water in front of Peyton. Peyton made a show of drinking it, and Will kissed the same spot on his forehead that Sebastian had.
Peyton sighed with exaggeration. He stood and disappeared down the hallway. He came back with a pack of playing cards before sliding in next to Will. Will held up a forkful of his food, and Peyton took a bite, chewing as he shuffled the deck.
“You know how to play poker?” Peyton asked Sebastian.
“It’s been a while, but I know the rules.”
“Don’t do it,” Will said around his own mouthful. “It’s a trap.”
