#beaurgard sinclair

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Summary: Bo has had a long exhausting day, that he just wanted to feel comfortable, and take a break for at least a couple of hours. Having taken a couple of beer bottles beforehand, he wasn’t satisfied with it and needed to get back home to his woman that he had kidnapped a few months prior. Not caring what he exactly wanted from her, but just wanted to rest against her. Feel her presence, one might say.

The oldest Sinclair was exhausted and clamy from his own sweat. He had spent the whole day hunting a group of tourists, which was supposed to go on smoothly if one of the girls hadn’t been a junior journalist that was too curious, not to mention snopping around for too long. What a damn annoying shrew. The evening air clung heavily to him as he trudged up the steps of his home. There was this unspoken feeling of more foul with his mechanic overalls than usual because of the perspiration, it was like a second skin, sticking to his back and amplifying the ache in his muscles. A headache throbbed at his temples, a combination of both the day’s labour and the few too many beers he’d downed to wash away the grit of his work. He’d barely managed to slam the door of his truck shut before he felt the pull of exhaustion weigh him down like a leaden anchor.

Kicking off his worn brown shoes at the threshold, he tossed his cap aside towards the couch, not caring where it landed. Only wanting it to halt from the inkling notion of squeezing his head. The familiar scent of home greeted him, and in an ironic way, blend of a wax candle brought the comforting feeling. He turned his gaze towards the kitchen and spotted a woman he knew well, her back to him as she busied herself with dinner. A pleased sigh escaped his lips, the kind that spoke volumes of both relief and resignation. Here was a safe haven from the day’s hectic hunt, yet the weight of fatigue still pressed on his shoulders, urging him to find solace in her presence, even as the tension in his body begged for rest.

She could hear the familiar footsteps coming towards her as she was putting a few food items on the worktop, but she didn’t do anything yet, knowing that Bo would most likely want to do whatever he wanted before hearing opinions. Bo was walking up behind (Y/n) and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, taking a deep breath and smelling her hair. No matter what situation she was in, she always seemed to have this constant smell of blueberries and a sweet treats. She wasn’t even using any products for it either. It was a natural scent of hers.

Bo loved that scent of hers, not that he would ever admit it, though. It was the perfect mix of sweet and tangy. It was almost addicting, like the taste of a pound cake. He buried his face deeper into her neck, nuzzling against the skin and taking another deep breath, his hands squeezing her hips slightly. She halted her movements after a while when she realised he was actually in a good mood for once, strangely though, he seemed to be a bit clingy. She wasn’t used to that. She turned her head a bit to look at him against her shoulder.

“Rough day, huh?” Bo chuckled against her skin, his breath hot and warm against (Y/n)’s neck. He slowly began to pepper kisses along her shoulder and up to her neck, his hands roaming over your body. “You have no idea.” He spoke under his breath against the skin, his voice deep and rough from the day’s work.

After being stuck in this new life, she still hasn’t gotten used to his kisses, his rare affection. Which makes her ticklish at times, but because she knows it isn’t wise to deny Bo of his needs. She stayed silent at his advances. That smirk of his could be felt against her skin, noticing her body’s reaction to his kisses. He continued to kiss and nibble on her neck, his hands slowly moving up (Y/n)’s sides and underneath her shirt, his fingers tracing along the bare skin.

“You’re still so damn quiet.” He teased her a bit, a part of him didn't like the silence, mostly because he has memories of others being nearby, yet ignoring his presence. Those younger days made him wish that at least someone would hurt him, in an eccentric way, not to cause pain, rather make sure that he wasn't left there. On that... on that.... His hot breath shaked a bit against her ear as he thought about his next words, nothing did come out though, at most a few low mumbles to himself. The woman could not help to shudder at certain moments, although she couldn't make out what he was babbling about, she figured it was sentences about some individual. She attempted to push it through as she spoke out her thoughts carefully.

“I thought you liked it when I didn’t argue…” He grumbled in acknowledgement, his hands now tracing up her stomach and towards her chest, his fingers tracing along her ribs. “I do. But you’re being too quiet today.” He replied, his lips moving to the other side of (Y/n)’s neck, nibbling on her skin.

“You’re usually so talkative…” She could comprehend his curiosity, and since she had nothing to hide, she simply told him that she dosen’t have much to say. Bo hummed against the skin, his hands still moving around her body, his fingers tracing along her sides and stomach, not wanting to feel (Y/n)’s soft skin, just her figure.

“No more sassy remarks? No smartass comments?” His voice still heald that teasing tone as he continued to nibble and kiss along her neck and shoulder. “No… I don’t think you could ever get rid of those aspects of me.” She stated softly with bluntness. Bo’s lips were moving up to her ear, his breath hot against it as he spoke. “You’re right about that. I love that smartass mouth of yours.” Her lips formed a small, non noticeable smile at that, as she unhurriedly began to continue on with her cooking. Making sure that the curry isn’t going to be missing any ingredients.

The mechanic watched her as she continued on with the cooking, his fingers were tracing along her open skin. He was proud of himself for giving her the dress that she was wearing. It wasn't anything special, a summer dress that might as well look good on any girl he picked. However, this one complimented (Y/n) way more then any other women he'd seen so far. It was modest, a combination of cute and beautiful the same time. There were multiple reasons as to why he enjoyed seeing women in dresses, but one of the main reasons is the femininity behind it. He's a simple man at the end of the day, It's no different than a woman finding an attractive man who knows how to work with his hands, wear a suit, or has any sort of masculine traits. Bo rested his chin on her shoulder, his body pressed against her in a not so much of a pressuring manner.

“You’re a lot more compliant too.” He commented, she simply hummed to that in acknowledgement, not knowing what to say to that, but then eventually figured out a proper response. “I don’t mind certain things you do. It’s either that, or I just don’t care as much.” He squeezed the right side of her hips gently, his thumb rubbing against the dress in a circle motion. He slightly moved his head so that he could look at her properly. “Is that so?” She hummed once more in confirmation, as she felt a part of herself melt at his warm breath. Bo let out a warm smicker at her reaction, his lips curling into a smirk. Sometimes, it was way to easy to make her give him a reaction he liked.

He could tell that she was sensitive as well nowadays, and she couldn’t understand why. She quickly looked down at her stomach, the woman couldn’t help but have an odd feeling about it. Bo noticed her quick glance, and that made him rub her stomach, his hands unhurriedly caressing that section.

“What’s wrong? Got something on your mind?” A with a hint of curiosity was in it. “No, it’s nothing really…” She glanced at a certain beer bottle that he had left one the sink, as she decided to change the question, fully realising now why he was so kind to her all of the sudden. “Bo, are you drunk?” The oldest Sinclair noticed her quick change of topic, and he hummed as he moved his hands again, only this time hugging her instead, even playing a bit with the fabric. It was as if he used it in a way with fiddling since he didn’t have a torque wrench or his beer bottle near him to do that.

“A little bit. Why do you ask?” His voice was slightly slurred. “Well, you usually get headaches after a while, and I’m just wondering if you feel fine or not.” He let out a noise at that, thinking about her words. He burried hos face at the back of her head for a moment to give out a small sigh. “Yeah, I feel fine. Just a little tired and a bit of a headache. Nothing to worry about.” He reassured her, his voice still slurred, but his words still sounded truthful. “Want some cold water?” She knew she couldn’t do much to make him sober up since time could only do that, enough time for the alcohol to dissappear from his body. But what she could do is make him feel a bit better. Bo thought about it for a moment before nodding his head. He made a grumble like noise slightly before letting her move away from him and going over to the sink. She opened the faucet and began to fill the glass with water.

“Thanks.” He muttered out, his voice still slurred a bit, yet his words were a bit clearer than before. She carefully placed it in his hands and made sure to check that he had a tight grip on the drink before fully letting go of it. “No problem, Bo.” Her tone was one of a shy speech as she continued on to prepare cooking the rice. He finished drinking the water and set the glass down on the counter. He then walked up behind (Y/n) again, wanting to go back to the comforting warm embrace of her back. “You’re so good to me.” He mumbled against her ear, as he unconsciously snuggled to the left side of her head.

She turned her gaze a bit to look at him for a second before having her focus back on the food. “… You think so?” Bo hummed in response as he stayed buried against her by squeezing her in a careful manner, neither desperate or affectionate, just clingy. When Sinclair knew he had enough, he rested his chin on her shoulder once mpre, watching her cook. “Yeah. I do. You’re always so kind to me.” His voice was a low, affectionate rumble. “Aren’t you used to that, Bo?” She knows she shouldn’t ask, but because she dosen’t know much about him, she usually tries to figure him out every now and then when she can, also, making sure to avoid touchy subjects. She was peeling a carrot whilst listening to him, as she then cut them into chunks. Bo was silent for a moment, thinking about her question. He hummed to that, his arms in her waist tightening a bit and trying his best to pull her closer against him. Even though she was already so close to him.

“No. Not really.” His voice a bit softer than before as he muttered. It was rare to see him being this vulnerable and open with his emotions, especially when it came to talking about his past. He never really opened up about his past before. She sighed at that in a meloncony way as she put the carrots aside, to then began to slice an onion into ½ inch wide bites. He watched as she sliced the onion. One side wanted to connect, whilst the other wanted to punch himself for being like this, the slight sober side to him wanted to at least let her get to know him. His upbringing wasn't exactly in secrecy, it was open for anybody to see if they were clever enough to put the puzzle pieces together. And since she knew so much already, he figured it wouldn't hurt much if he did tell her about something that wouldn't be surprising.

“You know… I’m not used to being loved and cared for.” She thought about those words for a moment as she minced a clove of garlic. She moved on with a bowl of cubed stew beef she had prepared beforehand. Making sure to pat it dry, as to then sprinkle some salt on it. “…Would you want to talk more about it?” She wasn’t going to push him. If he didn’t want to talk more, then that was alright with her. Knowing that he was being really vulnerable with her now. Bo was silent for a short period again. He buried his face into the crook of (Y/n)’s neck. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up continually.

“It’s not easy to talk about.” His mumbled voice was a bit shaky. He was struggling to talk about this, but he knew that she deserved to know. She had been good to him, to his brothers, for so long, he ain't no moron, he knows it is risky. Nonetheless, there's a feeling deep inside him that said she wouldn't have taken the option even if she could. (Y/n) momentarily looked down to her stomach to see those old wrist scars of his as she swiftly had her sight back on the ingredients. Wanting to put more flavour into the curry, she had picked out an apple to peel and grate the whole thing. It was going in with the one tablespoon of honey.

“I can wait until then. You don’t have to tell me everything.” His quietness arrived one more time, watching her peel the apple. Every time she went to get something, he pulled her back, his arms wrapped around her waist in a protective, possessive manner. “You sure you don’t want to know? It might change how you see me.” He muttered against her ear, his voice still raspy, yet somehow soft. It’s kind of odd hearing him talk like this as she was preheating the pot with oil over medium heat because this wasn’t like Bo at all. As far as she knew him, but at least she was aware that he was under the influence of alcohol.

“It isn’t my place to know unless you’re comfortable with it. It’s your life and story. All I can do is accept your boundaries.” A comfy sigh escaped Bo’s lips. He knew that she was right. It wasn’t her place to know everything about his past. But at the same time, he needed to tell her. He wanted to get it off his chest and get it out in the open. Writing it down can only do so much. “It’s just… I’ve never told anyone about this before.” He was struggling to keep his emotions in check.

Once the pot was perfectly heated, she put the beef in and lightly seared it for two minutes. Just to get it brown, not fully cooked yet. “So I’m the first to know outside of your family?” Bo nodded his head slightly, making (Y/n) feel those pressing movements. Oh well, the first one to be alive that is. “Yeah… you’re the first one to know. Everyone else just… doesn’t know about it.” Beaurgard was a bit overwhelmed for actually doing it now, yet he refused to back down from his own choices. She eventually picked the beef out of the pot, as she instead put two slices of butter in there to melt for a few seconds to follow with the onions. Saute them until caramelised for about eight minutes. “I uh… I assumed you’d have a friend or somebody you trusted in your youth to talk about it.”

Bo's mind was racing with memories from his youth. He was thinking about the people he trusted in his past and how he eventually lost them. “I had a few friends when I was younger. But they all betrayed me.” She could hear how his voice was dejected, including hints of bitterness. Once the onions became translutive and a bit brown, she put in the garlic to saute them as well for about thirty seconds. “How come?” The stillness was suffocating at first, making (Y/n) think she had messed up, but was relieved when he spoke up with an unsure tone. “They… they wanted to use me. They wanted to exploit me for their own gain. They were all just… wicked.” There was anger in his tone, along with resentment. She actually quickly understood what he meant by that, Bo had spent time with people who are just as bad as him, or probably even less, but since those kinds of people are mostly selfish at the end of the day. The people in that sort of friend group end up with so much loss.

“Weren’t there many people who you could tolerate?” She put the carrots and potatoes in the pot as she gave it a stir for around forty to sixty seconds. Bo was thinking a lot about her question. His thoughts was going everywhere, about all sorts of possibilities he had encountered, including those he successfully avoided. Wether by default or on purpose. “There were… a few. But they’re all gone now. I’m alone now.” His bitter tone had a hint of defeatedness in it. She put the beef chunks back in the pot, as she then moved to but in the five cups of water as stock, making it barely cover all of the ingredients. “That’s not true, you have Vincent and Lester, don’t you?”

Bo uttered nothing about what she had said. He didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. He did have Vincent and Lester, but they weren’t there all the time. They couldn’t understand him at times. More so Lester then his twin, but still. Vincent isn't that observational to see him like some sort of fictional character where you can comprehend their motives. They were the ones who came around because they were his brothers, but when he had a fuse, they rather left him alone. Knowing it was best to let his anger dim out by itself.

“Yeah… I do have them.” The grip he had on her waist was loosening slightly, but still remaining tight enough so that she couldn’t go anywhere. She added the grated apple, a tablespoon of ketchup, worchesterhire sauce, and honey to the pot. Gave it a stir, and let it simmer a moment with the lid covered for about twenty minutes in medium heat. She then moved her clean hand to gently caress his hair curls as she felt him burying his face in her shoulder still. Bo had unintentionally let out a mushy sigh as he snuggles into her. His body becoming more relaxed as she continued to caress his hair curls. His behaviour made (Y/n) think of him as a cat, which made her slightly giggle, Beaurgard raised an eyebrow at her reaction, yet kept his lips sealed as his body language demanded for more attention.

They stood like that in silence for a while, and when the curry was in boil, she had skim off any scum or foamy residue from the top layer. And then took a wooden stick to pierce through one of the potatoes to see if it goes through. When she knew it was soft enough, she turned off the heat and carefully added in a block of the curry root. Bo watched as she took care of the curry, his eyes never leaving her figure. She noticed the sauce darken and thicken up fairly quickly once the curry root has been disolved and mixed. She turned the pot back on medium low heat so that it could simmer for about fifteen minutes, wanting it to thicken. She stirred frequently so that it became this thick velvety like consistency. Bo wouldn't say it out loud, nonetheless, he was mesmerised by the way her hands moved and how skilled she was in the kitchen. He was also a bit distracted by the way her hips moved as she stirred the curry. He couldn’t help but gently squeeze (Y/n)’s hips every now and then, just to feel her body against his. She turned everything off eventually, and made sure to let the air from the rice go out as well, since the brothers dosen’t own a rice cooker, she had to make the rice in a different pot, but that was alright, since she was used to make them in that method anyways.

“It is done.” Bo let out a hum in response. He was a bit disappointed that the curry was done, but he knew that the rice would be good too. “Sounds good.” His voice sounded more huskier than before. “You sure you aren’t tired, Bo? I can save some for you later.” She knew he had “worked” all day and was not only tired from that, but potentially from the alcohol too. So she wouldn’t be disappointed if he just wanted to eat later. He hummed softly and gently nuzzled his face into her left check.

“I’m fine, darling. I’m not that tired.” Knowing not to push it, her response was straightforward. There’s no need to ask him twice because she knew he didn’t like to repeat himself. She turned around and wrapped her arms around his body as she lay her head on his chest. “If you say so…” Bo buried his face into her hair, leaving a tender kiss to her temple beforehand. Both of them stayed silent, just holding each other in their arms. His eyes slowly fluttered shut, and he began to gently rub her back with one hand.

Vincent eventually came back up from the basement after he had smelled the food, thinking that dinner was done and that he should get his plate down to the basement as usual. Only to be surprised to see Bo act so soft with the same girl his twin occasionally said was nothing more than a quick laid. He was so thankful that he was so quiet overall because if he wasn’t, he would have gotten caught trying to leave the situation. Wanting to work a bit more on the newly victim before eating his technically second meal of the day, having eaten a couple of grapes in the morning at most.

Vincent was actually relieved to see Bo act the opposite of his words for once because not only had he gotten so much slack of his twin’s constant insults. But the meals they have consumed lately have been nothing but perfect savoury meals, every single one of them so flavorful and made him feel so full. He doesn’t mind having her stick around, as long as she doesn’t cause problems for his mama’s dream, that is.

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