The worry that they were being obvious was unending and quite heedless of the facts, which were that a little too much avoidance of eye-contact in favour of intensely studying the furniture was not, however it felt, damning evidence of anything going on between them.
Besides, he had been master of falsely placid expressions and casually tempering his eye contact for almost as long as he’d known Baxter, and just because now there were two of them being fractionally odd in each other’s company didn’t mean they were necessarily being obvious. Besides: Baxter had always seemed oblivious.
“I’m sure,” Ari said warmly, at Bax’s account of how different his household felt now, with a family in it. He felt similarly, and that was with just the one child, never mind three. He lowered his voice slightly before adding wryly, more teasingly, “And I don’t doubt there’ll be more.” He was certain Bax cared for the others equally, but with a loving young wife in the house, he’d eventually wind up with a child of his own.
Speaking of, er, fatherhood. “It’s definitely a - change,” Ari admitted, a smile echoing all Bax’s sentiments in turn. Of course, raising a little one was not the biggest difference to his life these days - he’d watched an abundance of siblings grow up, and helped, and had always felt quite comfortable with the theory - but not feeling so terribly alone was something altogether new.
He glanced sidelong at Ben, his expression changing from carefully neutral to somewhere between amused-and-exasperated (in other words, his Ben look). “Elliott’s an angel,” he said reprovingly, and then shared a look with Bax, which felt decidedly safer. “And Ben, you can babysit when we’ve tried everyone else in Bartonburg.”
Besides, he had been master of falsely placid expressions and casually tempering his eye contact for almost as long as he’d known Baxter, and just because now there were two of them being fractionally odd in each other’s company didn’t mean they were necessarily being obvious. Besides: Baxter had always seemed oblivious.
“I’m sure,” Ari said warmly, at Bax’s account of how different his household felt now, with a family in it. He felt similarly, and that was with just the one child, never mind three. He lowered his voice slightly before adding wryly, more teasingly, “And I don’t doubt there’ll be more.” He was certain Bax cared for the others equally, but with a loving young wife in the house, he’d eventually wind up with a child of his own.
Speaking of, er, fatherhood. “It’s definitely a - change,” Ari admitted, a smile echoing all Bax’s sentiments in turn. Of course, raising a little one was not the biggest difference to his life these days - he’d watched an abundance of siblings grow up, and helped, and had always felt quite comfortable with the theory - but not feeling so terribly alone was something altogether new.
He glanced sidelong at Ben, his expression changing from carefully neutral to somewhere between amused-and-exasperated (in other words, his Ben look). “Elliott’s an angel,” he said reprovingly, and then shared a look with Bax, which felt decidedly safer. “And Ben, you can babysit when we’ve tried everyone else in Bartonburg.”
