Page 17 of The Grumpy Vet (Vet Shop Boys Down Under #3)

Linus

I'm numb leaving the hospice.

Numb on the car ride as Ryde drives us back to my place.

Numb as the guys fix me some food, which we eat together, then urge me to take a shower.

Numb as I climb into bed, flanked by my guys.

Numb as my mind drifts back through the years and I speak of the memories of my father that float to the surface until god knows what time in the morning.

I wake up with a start, and for one brief, blissful moment, it feels like a normal day. But then my brain wakes up and reminds me this isn't a normal day. It's the day after my father died.

I let out a long groan, scrubbing a hand down my face, when I realise something's missing. I pat my hand along the crumpled sheets on either side of me. They're warm, but the bed is empty. The guys must have only gotten up recently.

Oh, shit. The clinic. Work. All my fucking appointments.

I kick the sheet off me, tug on the nearest underwear I can find, then stumble down the corridor into the kitchen.

The guys spin around at the same time.

"Morning,"

Ryde says, stepping towards me holding a freshly brewed mug of coffee.

"Sleep okay?"

he asks, handing the mug over.

Our fingers touch, and I manage a small smile.

"Actually, yeah. Thank you for this."

Dario moves to the dining table, balancing three plates.

"Come on, you two. Brekkie time."

I don't have much of an appetite, but I appreciate the effort they're making. God, I can't even imagine waking up alone and having to deal with this by myself. And thankfully, I don't have to.

I pick up my fork, but before I can add any bacon to it, it hits me again.

"The clinic. Shit. I have a full day of?—"

"It's fine,"

Dario interjects.

"Wilby is flying in this morning. Fitz and Muir are already there, and we've called in two temps who will be arriving tomorrow."

I blink rapidly.

"You guys did all that?"

"Don't sound so surprised,"

Dario quips, smiling.

"We can do more than just get you off."

I grin at that. Then smile. Then start laughing. Then end up in fucking tears.

"Fuck. I'm a mess."

They get up and comfort me from behind.

"You're allowed to be a mess,"

Ryde says, rubbing soothing circles on my upper back, which feels so, so good.

"Just like we're allowed to look after you,"

Dario adds.

"Wait."

I sniff, trying to get myself together, and turn over my shoulder, peering up at Dario.

"Aren't you meant to be leaving tomorrow?"

His light-hazel eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I'm convinced he's going to say that, yes, he is still leaving. That he's really sorry about the bad timing, but he has to go.

He quirks a brow.

"You really think I'm leaving after what you said yesterday?"

Shit. What did I say yesterday?

Ryde chuckles.

"He doesn't remember,"

he says to Dario.

"No. I remember. I'm just…thinking."

"Which, at his age, could take a while,"

Dario jokes.

I pull my chair out from the table, so they're now standing on either side of me. I take both of their hands in mine and kiss the tops of their knuckles in turn until I remember what I said.

Ohhhh… That.

It had slipped out, and I hadn't given it any thought in the moment, but maybe that's actually okay? Maybe it shows that while my timing wasn't great, the sentiment is true. Real.

Because it is.

I press my lips to Ryde's knuckles.

"I love you."

I bring my lips to Dario's.

"And I love you."

I glance up at my two beautiful guys.

"I'm sorry it came out at a less than ideal time. But I want you to know, I mean it. With all my heart."

"Don't worry about that,"

Dario says, giving my hand a squeeze.

"We love you, too. Don't we, Ryde?"

Ryde nods.

"We sure do."

Then he slides his hand out of mine and uses it to caress Dario's cheek.

"And I love you, Dario."

Dario's breath catches in his throat, and his eyes well up.

"I love you, too, Ryde."

They kiss, which instantly turns me on and has me itching to join in.

"Room for one more?" I ask.

"Always,"

Ryde answers with a devilish giggle.

And then I'm making out with my guys, the two loves of my life, and for a moment, everything else that's going on in my life gets swept away as I fully surrender to this kiss, pouring all of myself into it.

When we eventually pull apart, I ask Dario, "Were you actually going to leave?"

"Well, yeah,"

he answers, dropping his gaze.

"I mean, you guys didn't ask me to stay."

"Because we wanted it to be your choice,"

Ryde says, lifting his chin so their eyes meet.

"We didn't want to pressure you."

I glance between them.

"But it was never our intention to make you feel like we didn't want you to stay. Because we did, and we both agreed to let you decide."

"It's silly, but…"

A tear rolls down Dario's cheek.

"I wanted you to ask me."

"That's not silly,"

I say, wiping the tear away.

"If that's what you want, then that's what I'll do. Will you stay?"

He gives a small smile.

"I appreciate that, but you're a little late. I already am."

"No. I don't mean stay in Scuttlebutt. I mean here. With me. Both of you. Will you both move in with me?"

Ryde's eyebrows rocket up. "Really?"

"Are you sure?"

Dario adds.

"Because that's a big deal."

"A huge deal,"

Dario agrees with a nod.

"You think you're ready for us?"

I lift my hand in the air, and they both go silent.

"Yes and yes. Yes, it's a big deal. A really big deal. And yes, I'm ready for you."

They both look amused, but I'm not done yet.

"I think I've been ready for a while. It's taken losing my father and almost losing you, Dario, to make me realise I should have said something sooner. Not to pressure anyone or make anyone do something they don't want to do, but simply to reveal what is in my heart. I love you both. I want to be with you both. And I don't want to let anything get in the way of that."

Dario is nodding along as I talk, but Ryde is chewing into his lower lip, a sure sign he's worried about something.

"What about anyone?"

he asks a little timidly.

"Excuse me?" I say.

"Well, it's one thing to say we're not going to let anything stand in our way. But what about anyone? Like, say, oh, I don't know, my dad."

"Shit."

I close my eyes.

"Oakey. Of course."

The last twenty-four hours have been such a whirlwind, it's no surprise it momentarily slipped my mind how my best friend might react to the news that I'm with his son. And his son's best friend.

Jesus, this could be a colossal mess.

My phone buzzes on the table. It's the hospice.

"I need to take this,"

I say, getting up.

"We'll talk about this later."

Unfortunately, later proves to be elusive. There's no time to grieve, no time to think about how to break the news to Oakey. I'm suddenly swamped with paperwork and calls to make and a funeral to organise.

Actually, I shouldn't say I. Because the next few days are very much a team effort. A blur of phone calls and people dropping by with food and condolences, which I especially appreciate given my father wasn't very liked around here.

And then, the day before the funeral, a special guest arrives.

"Dad!"

Ryde gets up off the floor where we've been sorting through eighty-plus years of photos for the service tomorrow and crashes into his old man.

"Hey, son. Good to see you."

It warms my heart seeing how close they are. It also fills me with dread that Oakey finding out about the three of us could change that. Diminish their connection. Maybe even sever it entirely.

A small part of me is seriously contemplating whether it's worth the risk. But another much bigger and wiser part is applying the lesson I learned with Dario. We came so close to losing him because he was waiting for us to say something.

As much as I don't want to hurt Oakey, I'm a grown man, his son is an adult, and all three of us are going into this with our eyes wide open. Bottom line, he needs to be told.

Sure, a relationship with three people isn't the norm. And yes, there's a significant age difference, and I am their boss. I'm not disputing any of those very real, very important facts.

But beneath all that, there's love. Pure, genuine love.

And I trust my best friend.

I trust him to see that.

He might need to take a little time to get over the initial shock, but I have to believe in my heart of hearts that he'll see us for who we are: three men who belong together and are head over heels in love with one another.

"Mate."

He pulls me into a long, deep hug.

"I'm so sorry. How you holdin' up?"

"Good. Better now. I was a bit of a mess in the immediate aftermath."

"Death is a tricky one,"

he says before giving Dario a hug, too.

"But you'll get through it."

"Yeah, I will."

I look at each of the men standing in my living room and work my cheek muscles up to a small smile.

"I know I will."

Dario

I hate funerals.

Even when I don't know the person being farewelled, they still suck. They're morbid and depressing because, well, dying is morbid and depressing. There's no two ways about it.

And this one sucks especially hard because someone I love is hurting.

After his initial show of emotion right after his father's passing, Linus has been putting on a brave face these past few days.

But he's going through it.

He may have had a complicated relationship with his dad, and the guy had lived a good, long life, but it's still his dad.

It's still a loss.

It still brings up a ton of emotions and existential questions.

And the worst thing about Oakey arriving yesterday is that it's meant Ryde and I have had to pull back on how much we've been supporting him.

It's one thing to be there for your boss and friend in his time of grief, it's another when you're in love and together.

Ryde and I had to spend the night at Ryde's while Oakey is staying with Linus to make it all seem normal.

Except, this normal doesn't feel so normal anymore.

It's not our normal.

I know there's a good chance Oakey will go ballistic when he finds out what's going on, but it's killing me having to withdraw and pretend that Linus is just our boss when he needs us now more than ever.

The outback sun glares through the stained glass of the small country church, casting coloured light across the worn floor.

I shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden pew, fanning myself with the program Ryde and I helped Linus put together.

Linus is sitting directly in front of me, flanked by Oakey and Ryde to his left, and Wilby, Col, Fitz, and Muir on his right.

My fingers itch to reach out and touch him, comfort him, let him know that despite having to take a smaller role, I'm still here with him.

We're with him.

Ryde tosses a quick look over his shoulder, his face pale and his blue eyes filled with pain.

This is killing him just as much as it's affecting me, but it'd raise way too many suspicions if we did something stupid like insist on sitting next to Linus.

This isn't the time to be thinking about what we want anyway.

Linus is grieving, and if holding the ruse and pretending nothing is going on is what's required, then so be it.

He knows we're thinking of him, he knows we love him, and he knows we wish we could be doing more, saying more, holding him more.

The text thread between us is filled with countless messages that say exactly that because while we can't act on our feelings in public, nothing is going to stop us from bombarding him with words of love and support in private.

Despite his father not being a popular man, the church is filled.

A couple of people get up to deliver eulogies.

They're short.

Direct.

Respectful.

It kills me that I can't see Linus's face, that the only view I have of the man I love is the back of his head, his thick brown hair neatly styled and gelled, and his broad shoulders under his navy-blue button-up.

He texted before the ceremony asking if he should wear a suit.

With the stifling heat, we told him he'd be boiling and urged him to skip it.

No one else is wearing one either.

The minister asks Linus to step up.

My chest pinches with secondhand nerves.

We've been texting about this, too, and I know Linus is torn.

On the one hand, of course he has to eulogise his father.

On the other hand, he really doesn't want to.

It's not even the public speaking that bothers him as much as it is having to share such a private part of himself with basically the whole town.

He makes his way to the podium, moving stiffly.

Slowly.

When he reaches it, his eyes drift to Ryde, then to me.

I give a discreet, encouraging nod, willing him to stay strong and get through this.

He runs a hand through his hair before realising it's slick with gel and pulls it back down quickly.

Curling his fingers around the edges of the podium, he clears his throat and begins, "Dad wasn't a perfect man.

In fact, he was a hard, difficult, and complex man.

I think many of you gathered here today may feel the same way."

A low murmur breaks out amongst the congregation.

"We didn't always see eye to eye. We had our moments, good and bad. While he was alive, I paid more attention to the bad. Since his passing, several good memories I'd long forgotten have come back to me."

He clears his throat to keep going.

"I guess what I'm saying is don't wait until someone's gone to remember the good. No one's perfect. We're all doing what we can to survive. And if you love someone…"

His eyes land squarely on me then shift to Ryde. And then to Oakey.

"Tell them."

He mutters a quiet thanks, dips his head, and returns to his seat. As soon as he sits down, I run my hand over his shoulder and give it a squeeze. I don't care who's looking. After his beautiful words, I can't hold back anymore.

The reception takes place at the Scuttlebutt Pub, which is apparently a tradition around here. Ryde and I have only had a few all too brief moments with Linus, but Oakey is glued to his side like the annoyingly awesome best friend that he is.

I'm leaning against the bar, on my third drink, when Ryde walks up.

"Hey. How are you feeling?"

I drain the last of my gin and tonic.

"Not great. You?"

"Same. A diet Coke, please,"

Ryde requests from the bartender.

"Do you want anything else?"

"Nah."

I turn around and lean my back against the counter.

"Should probably stop. Don't want to get too pissed."

Ryde gets his drink and spins around, too. No guesses as to who we're looking at. A bunch of people have circled around Linus and Oakey, no doubt offering their condolences, which is the right thing to do, but it's clear from the expression on his face that Linus is counting down the seconds until he can retreat to the safety of his house.

"Linus looks like he'd rather be anywhere but here,"

Ryde says quietly, as if reading my thoughts.

"Tell me about it."

"I'm glad Dad's here to support him, but man, I wish it didn't mean we had to disappear."

"Tell me about it."

"And it sucked not being able to sit next to him at the church or get too close to him here."

"Tell me about it."

Ryde needles me with his elbow and lets out a low chuckle.

"Stop repeating yourself."

"Tell me about it."

Ryde steps up in front of me, blocking my view of Linus being miserable, and stares into my eyes, the skin between his eyebrows pinching into a frown.

"This is really affecting you, isn't it?"

"Of course it is,"

I say a little too loudly, so I lower my voice.

"I get why we have to do this, but it sucks pretending we're nothing more than Linus's employees. Especially now. We've always been there for him, and now all we can do is watch from the sidelines in his time of need."

I fold my arms across my chest to stop myself from spinning around and ordering another drink.

"It's bullshit," I huff.

"You're right."

Ryde nods, his frown deepening.

"It is bullshit. And I'm done with hurting the men I love."

His gaze turns sharp, and he inches away from me. He's up to something. I know he is. As the king of best plans, I recognise that look you get when an idea forms in your head.

"What are you up to?"

He finishes his drink with a noisy slurp and plonks his glass onto the bar.

"Something I should have done a long time ago."

His determined blue eyes lock onto mine.

"I'm going to tell Dad about us."

"Now?"

I splutter.

Ryde nods definitively.

"Right fucking now."

And with that, he spins on his heel and marches towards his dad and Linus.

Think I might have that fourth drink after all.