“Arthur is still mad about what happened, and to be honest, Alfie, I don’t give two shits about it but if I want this plan to work, then Arthur needs to hear, at the very least, a fake apology.”
Alfie shakes his head in disbelief. “You ask for too fucking much, Tommy.”
“Tell you what,” Tommy moves forward on his seat, arms coming to rest on top of his desk, hands clasped together. “If you apologize to Arthur I’ll let you fuck me right here before I call my brothers in.”
Sex between them has become somewhat of a common occurrence ever since they first met in London, and it had only stopped once Tommy had married Grace. And after her passing, Tommy hasn’t had sex with anyone else.
Alfie would be the first one after Grace.
And the idea of that is too enticing for the man sitting in front of him – that’s how he knows Alfie will comply with what he’s asking of him.
“Come here, you crazy fucker.”
Tommy tries to not look so smug at how easy it is for him to manipulate the other man with sex, as he approaches him.
They are trying to make themselves look presentable and not look like they just finished fucking a few minutes ago, when his brothers walk into the drawing room.
The moment Arthur spots Alfie and tries to run out of the office, any post-coital bliss that Tommy might have had lingering in his body left him rather quickly.
Back to business.
“Arthur, come here.” The older Shelby reluctantly obeys. “Now, Mr. Solomons is here because the next part of my plan involves us working together and before that happens, Alfie would like to say something to you, and I want you to listen, alright?”
Tommy watches in silence, trying not to laugh as Alfie mockingly apologizes to his brother, he sees how his brother gets more on edge by the second but thankfully, by the end of a very long, very fake apology, they each remain seated on their seats and there’s no ashtray being smashed on anyone’s head – he’ll take the win.
Once that apology is out of the way, they are able to move on to talk the business part of the meeting.
“You didn’t need to rile him up that much, you know,” Tommy comments when they are once again alone in the drawing room.
“Yeah, but he makes it so easy.” Tommy simply shakes his head, amused because he knows how easy it is to rile his brother.
“Want to go upstairs?” He asks after a moment of silence.
“Tommy, sweetheart, I love that you think so highly of me but I don’t think I can fuck you again. Not for a little while longer, at least.”
“Well,” Tommy walks around the desk to stand closer to where the other man is sitting. “You can always stay the night. I mean, is late already and is a long drive back to London and we both know how much your sciatica acts up when you sit still for too long in your car,” Tommy says in a fake concerned voice.
“Yeh, it would be nice, yeah, to spend the night. You know, for my sciatica. And bad knee,” Alfie follows Tommy’s games without a second thought.
“That’s right. We can’t forget about your knee.”
“Lead the way, then.” Alfie says as if he’s never before stayed at the house. What follows is an evening filled with moans and pure post-coital bliss.
Note: Contains triggering themes; miscarriage, blood, etc so perhaps miss this one out if you think anything like that will trigger/make you uncomfortable.
Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs are blocked.
Masterlist
"Jesus Christ!" Alfie exclaimed. He'd just walked through the door and you were stood right there in front of him silently, wringing your hands in your nervous disposition.
"Hi."
"What's going on, love? Why'd you nearly give me a heart attack?" He asked gently, hanging up his coat and taking off his shoes before reaching an arm out and placing a hand on your shoulder.
"I think you should come through." Was all you said, making Alfie's nerves spike and his heart jump.
Now, Alfie was not a man who scared easily, but the thought of something happening to you while he was at work and not saying anything all day was enough to make him heave from the dropping feeling in his gut.
You turned to lead the way through to the dining table and Alfie reached forward and grasped your hand as you walked, hoping to provide some comfort.
"Love?"
No answer. You couldn't. You could hardly bring yourself to breath let alone talk. All you could do was squeeze his hand that held yours in reassurance.
It's okay.
You abruptly stopped once you'd reached the entrance to the dining room (meaning Alfie almost walked straight into the back of you if he hadn't halted at the last minute) and turned to face him yet again, somehow looking even paler. You were silent for a moment, trying to figure out the right wording. Then again, this was Alfie, one of the bluntest men on Earth you were talking about.
"Doll, please, whatever it is just spit it out." He pleaded.
"Just sit and let me tell you everything and then you can process and I'll leave if you want me to and then we can go from there but let me get this out." You rambled at last.
Alfie sat with no hesitation, leaning towards you to implore you to explain what the hell was going on.
"Alright I'm just gonna come straight out with it." You warned him, beginning to pace the length of the doorway, breathing a little heavier now, the knot of butterflies in your stomach almost becoming unbearable.
"Breathe love." Alfie reminded you, aching to stand and hold you through whatever had happened but wanting to do as you asked if it made you more willing to tell him.
Suddenly you stopped pacing and swivelled to look directly at him. You nodded once to yourself as a last reassurance and came straight out with it.
"I had a miscarriage."
Alfie physically forgot to breath for about 7 seconds. He blinked, then cleared his throat.
"Sorry?"
"Today. I had a miscarriage, this morning. That's why I didn't want you to come home for lunch or to come home early; I was cleaning it up."
"You were cleaning it up?" He repeated in a state of disbelief.
"Yes. But not to worry, I had some spare towels and sheets and you can't see any blood stains or anything."
Alfie waited a moment before addressing anything.
"Fuckin' hell."
You felt as if your heart was about to explode. Alfie raised up slowly from his chair and lopped closer to you, the furrow in his eyebrows a dead giveaway on his neutral face that he wasn't happy with what he was hearing.
"Alfie?" You said in a small, uncertain voice but he kept advancing until he was almost close enough to have his chest flush with yours.
"What time was this, when did you have the miscarriage?"
"Around 8 this morning." You whispered in reply.
"Just after I'd fucking phoned you." He stated, still looking directly at you but making no move to reach out towards you so you didn't move back yet.
"Yeah."
"Where?"
"I was sat on the bedroom floor looking for something when I didn't feel right and so I looked down and I was bleeding."
Alfie raised his head and fixed his gaze on the ceiling as he rolled his shoulders back. "How long?"
"What?"
"How fuckin' long were you pregnant for?"
When you didn't answer Alfie lowered his gaze again and found yours focused on the floor. He slowly reached towards you and raised your chin to look at him again and there were unshed tears glistening in your eyes.
"How long?" He repeated, significantly softer.
"Just a few weeks."
Alfie grunted and finally walked those few steps forward, colliding against you and wrapping you so tightly in his arms you were almost completely covered by his hulking physique. He felt you shuddering against him as you cried silently, his heart kept clenching painfully every time an accidental shriek fell from your lips, his stomach rolled with unease at seeing you this way. All Alfie wanted to do was wrap you up in bubble wrap and keep you away from the world until you'd healed; unfortunately, he had to go to work and so did you.
"Steady love, take it steady." He began rocking you back and forth in his embrace, lifting your head to fit over his shoulder and tucking his head in your neck.
"You aren't angry?" You asked quietly once the worst of your sobs had passed, only having a hiccup every now and again.
Alfie snorted in disbelief and held you closer still. "It takes two to make a baby love."
"Only takes one to loose it." You murmured under your breath, just for Alfie to somehow hear it anyway.
"Uh hey," he said sharply, pulling back to look you directly in the eye again to make sure you listened to everything he was about to say, "I don't want to hear none of that, you hear me? If we lost the baby, we lost the baby and maybe that was the world's way of telling us the time simply wasn't right. But don't, for one fuckin' second, start any of that 'self-blaming' bullshit, right? None of that in this house, thank you."
You nodded at his antics and wiped the excess tears from your face, a smile ghosting the sides of your lips.
"Good, now, get your coat dear." Alfie set off down the hall and slid his shoes back on, coat next and then his scarf.
"What why? You haven't eaten yet." You exclaimed, following after him confused. Alfie grabbed your coat from the rack and held it up for you to put your arms into, pulling it around your body and fastening it snuggly.
"I can eat when I make sure my fucking wife is looked after first." He told you, turning and opening the front door then reaching back and looping an arm around your waist, pulling you outside with him.
"Alfie! Where are we going?" Still no answer from him other than leading you to the car and helping you into the back.
He climbed in after you and leaned forward to tell the driver where to go.
"Nearest hospital mate, and step on it."
"What?"
"You come first, always." Was all he said.
You didn't try to fight him anymore and just softened back into the seat as Ishmael started driving. Alfie's arm came around you and rested on your shoulder, his thumb rubbed back and forth idly as a grounding motion.
You reached over him and grasped his hand that was resting on his leg and interlocked your fingers with his. You squeezed his hand in a silent gesture and he squeezed back. Even though he might not say it a lot, you really were everything to him, if anything happened to you he wouldn't know how to function.
Alfie made a silent vow to himself in that moment to make more time to check in with you, he wouldn't work for as long and he'd try to help out around the house more. He'd make sure to have time carved out in his schedule just for the two of you, no matter what.
