“How… How did you know that?” Jack asked, his voice tight and, if Sam wasn’t mistaken, unexpectedly fearful. “It’s not like I advertise it. Or do I? Is it obvious? Am I obvious and don’t know it?”

Maybe a little, if someone like me can figure it out. He couldn’t tell him that. Not if this was his reaction.

“You’re not obvious,” he assured him. “I’m good at reading people. Comes with the job.”

“Your job as a bodyguard...” Jack trailed off, probably occupied with mentally questioning himself and all of his past actions to find his flaws.

Sure. Sam’s job as a bodyguard. Same difference.

“Yeah.” His question still hadn’t been answered and this conversation was getting off track. The fact that Jack was gay or that he thought it was a secret didn’t matter. “So, are you being bullied?”

There was a short pause, then Jack let out a small, resigned sigh. “Yeah.”

“By?”

“Some guys I grew up with. They’ve always been that way. I dropped out of art school to run this place after our parents died, so now they call me ‘art fag’ and like to follow me around, spewing insults, taking my stuff... It’s stupid, like we’re still in middle school.”

Sam nodded. It did sound stupid and seemed like a waste of time for everyone. But that still wasn’t what he needed to know. “Do they hurt you? Physically?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

His face and chest were growing hot, the aggravation building, but he wasn’t sure why. Jack said it so casually. Why should he feel so provoked when the actual victim wasn’t? And a few bullies beating someone up was nothing. He had done it more times than he could count when he was young, then joined an underground crime organization and made it his profession. But this felt different. There was something very wrong about this.

“Why don’t you fight back?”

Jack chuckled bitterly at the ridiculous question. “The best I can do is huddle to protect myself. What am I supposed to do against four large men?”

“Do you want me to teach you?” It would be easy. He could even give him a weapon to use.

“Not really, no. I’m a lover, not a fighter.” Jack chuckled again, a little lighter this time. “It’s fine. I’m used to it. It doesn’t usually bother me... I just have a bad night now and then.”

“Okay.” There was nothing okay about it, but Sam wasn’t one to push, and the Magpie wasn’t one to care. It wasn’t his problem and the conversation had ended, so he had no reason to continue it.

Jack went back to staring and they sat a few more minutes, until he broke through the tension. “So, it really doesn’t bother you?”

“What?”

“That I'm a man, who likes other men.”

Back to this again. Whether it bothered him or not, it clearly made Jack anxious. “Why would I care about that?” He had never been interested in such things and couldn’t understand why anyone spent so much time dwelling on it.

“Other people say the same thing, but then they get nervous and jumpy when I touch them. Or even when I’m too close.” It sounded almost accusatory, as if all men were secretly afraid of him.

“Those other people are assholes.”

Jack backed away and nodded, then for the first time that night flashed the smallest grin. “Well, cheers to that then!”

He snatched the bottle of vodka from Sam and drank it straight, getting a few gulps in before it was ripped from his hands. It was too late. With a larger grin, Jack pat his new friend on the back and collapsed onto the island.

“Shit.”

This was not the way he had wanted his night to go. All he needed was a glass of water and to go back to bed. Instead, his head was hazy, and he was carrying a grown man around the house on his back.

Jack weighed almost nothing and was surprisingly delicate for his height, making it clear why he wouldn’t be winning any fights. He could at least learn some self-defense if he was getting hit, or ways to slip free if he was caught, but Sam wasn’t going to pressure him. The last thing he needed was to get involved. As they walked quietly through the dark, Jack groaned, his head laying up against Sam’s ear.

“You smell really good... Where’re you taking me? I don’t normally do this with men I don’t know, but with you... Hah... Right. I don’t do this with anyone... Who would do that with me?”

Sam sighed, now standing in front of the siblings living area, the door to the hallway locked. Would it even be possible at this point to not be involved? He shouldn’t have stayed and shouldn’t have asked. Just that one drunken interaction had crossed too many lines.

“That isn’t what’s happening.” There was just mumbling over his shoulder now, so he shook the body on his back. “Do you have a key? I need a key.”

He contemplated waking Jade up, but he wasn’t sure how that would go and didn’t want to deal with yet another conversation. Jack was light, so he could hold him with one hand while he hung over his shoulders, but as soon as he began rummaging through his pockets, Jack started to giggle. This didn’t need to go any further. He didn’t really care, but if Jack remembered in the morning, living here would be awkward at best.

With a resigned sigh, he turned and headed toward the stairs. There was another low groan and Jack shifted.

“You really do smell good... Hey, Sam... I’m scared... to flirt with another man... Would you hate me? If I flirted with you?” After a pause, Jack blew a hot breath onto his neck. “Of course you would... You married a woman... You’re not gay...” There was another small pause, then in almost a whisper, heavy with worry, he added, “Please don’t be disgusted. I don’t want you to hate me.”

Tapping the door open with his foot, Sam brought him over to the bed and laid him gently next to Ellie. She was sleeping soundly after her nightmare and didn’t notice them enter. Jack groaned one last time, then shifted toward the girl’s warmth. Surprisingly, she did the same in response, curling up against Jack’s chest as she slept.

The sight was sweet and once again, Sam wondered what Ellie saw in this man. Letting out a small, breathy laugh, he grabbed a blanket and covered them both. The situation might turn interesting in the morning, but for now, they were both peaceful and content.

He leaned over Jack and pushed away a red lock of hair that had fallen into his eye, making it twitch under his eyelid. “You’re right. I’m not gay. But I’m not disgusted, and I definitely don’t hate you.”

Lifting himself back up, he stretched, then took another blanket and brought it with him to the chair, the alcohol helping him to quickly join them in sleep.