Chapter Text
You could hear the shower running from your place in the hall.
Tonight had been far more draining than you’d imagined it would be. Bo and Vincent had been dashing back and forth trying to keep the five or so people you’d all lured into Ambrose in check. Leaving you at the house, pacing back and forth until you were needed. Lester had stopped in for a few moments to keep you company, but eventually he’d been called into service by the twins, and again, you were alone.
Once the visitors had been subdued and carted off for Vincent to transform into his wax figures, Bo had stomped up the steps and headed straight for the bathroom. Barely giving you a passing glance.
Now that just wouldn’t do. Which is how you found yourself here. Waiting outside, listening to Bo shower behind the door.
You slowly crept up and opened the door a crack. Just enough to see the foggy outline behind the curtain; and Bo’s hands holding himself up against the shower wall, head forward, allowing the steaming water to rush over him. You saw his signature trucker cap sitting crumpled on the floor and moved to lay it nicely on the counter. Bo’s head was tilted in your direction. You knew he was watching you pick up his clothes - straightening out his mess.
“If you come to say somethin’, just say it.” His head was angled down again. Not connecting, not engaging… Damn but these Sinclair boys drove you crazy. You sighed, giving him a searching look.
“You could have used me out there tonight, Bo. I could have helped. Maybe if you’d had an extra set of hands you wouldn’t –“
He cut you off before you could finish the thought.
“You think I can’t handle this town by myself?! I was doin’ just fine before you got here, and I’ll be doin’ fine once you’re gone!” he snarled.
He turned away from you and began furiously scrubbing at his hair, only to give out a hiss when he hit the bloody gash on the side of his face – a gift from the latest additions to the House of Wax, and the reason you’d chased him in here in the first place.
Having had quite enough of his macho posturing you tore back the shower curtain and stepped into the spray, still fully clothed.
“Now you listen here Bo Sinclair.” You grabbed his face in both your hands, turning him to look at you.
“I know you can handle anything this town throws your way. I’ve never, in all the time I’ve been here, doubted that. But baby, what I’m trying to tell you is that you don’t have to do it alone. You’ve never been doing it alone. You’ve got people who love you and want to be there for you. I know you feel like you need to take care of everybody else, but it’s OK to let us help you out every once and awhile.”
You gently caressed his face, waiting for your words to sink in.
You could see your words impact him in the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes. The anger was gone, and he seemed to deflate in front of you.
“Gettin’ your clothes all wet…” he mumbled, still not looking at you.
“Well then you better help me take them off.” You replied.
This brought his gaze up to meet yours. This he could do. He was back on level ground. He smirked lightly, without malice, and started to run his hands up under your wet shirt.
Heavy, wet sounds signaled your shirt, jeans, and underwear hitting the floor, leaving you naked. Bo slowly sunk down to his knees, not breaking your gaze. This was probably the closest you’d get to an apology from Bo, or a thank you; but you’d made your bed and you were only too happy to lie in it.
Bo’s hands ran up and down your wet thighs as his mouth did it’s delicious, dirty work on you; leaving you quietly gasping out his name. When his bad leg began to trouble him too much to stay on the ground he rose to join you, turning you swiftly to face the shower head.
He raised one of your legs to stand on the ledge of the tub, opening you to him entirely. You moaned as he entered you, and as he began to mouth his way down your spine you pressed back into his heat, hoping for some friction. He took the hint and soon you were both flying on wings of carnal ecstasy. As your release hit you gasped and collapsed forward. You might have gone down entirely if not for his strong arm coming to wrap around your ribs, holding you tightly while he continued to chase his finish. He groaned loudly when he came, flooding you with heat, and he slowly lowered both of you to the floor of the shower.
“Not bad, Beauregard.” You huffed, still coming back down from your high.
He kissed the side of your head, chuckling.
“Fuckin’ knew I’d regret telling you that…”