Bobby walked out of the capital to the waiting car, tears aching in his eyes. He had screwed himself royally and he damn well knew it. Ken was never going to talk to him again, much less fall in love with him. And the rain fell, crashing onto his hair, drenching him. And then it just…wasn’t.
 
“Ken?” Bobby was shocked, amazed. Perhaps…no, Ken was probably just here to bitch him out.

 “…Yeah.”

 Bobby said the only thing that came to mind. “I’m sorry.”

 Ken was silent, ushering Bobby into the car, sending away the driver. Shitshitshitshitshit! Bobby’s mind was on hyperdrive. He’s gonna kill me! He gonna get me alone and strangle me, or shoot me, or something. I can’t HELP it though. God he’s gorgeous.

 “I…you…you shouldn’t be.”

 Bobby’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “What?”

 Ken shuddered; there was desperation in Bobby’s eyes. One that made him want to take the man in his arms and shelter him, keep him safe forever. “I said you shouldn’t be sorry.”

 “I…shouldn’t?” PleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE!

 Ken shook his head. This was hard. So damned hard and it had to do it. “You shouldn’t. And I shouldn’t have panicked.”

 “So you’re saying you didn’t mind it?”

 “I’m saying…I liked it.”

 Bobby blinked. “Ken, pull over.” The limo pulled to the side and halted and Ken looked right at Bobby, waiting.

 “You…liked it?” Oh god, please mean what I think you do!

 “I liked it.” Ken was stoic, trying so hard no to flip out…or grab Bobby for another kiss he wasn’t sure which.

 “Can you elaborate? You liked it; you want it to happen again? You want anything else to happen? Why? I thought…”

 “Yes, yes, and I’m not quite sure.”

 “Oh,” yes he liked it, yes he…he wants again? REALLY?

 “I think…I’m not sure…”

 “Ken,” Bobby’s voice was so soft, so unsure.

 “Yes?”

 “Thank you.” His hand covered Ken’s, that was clutching the steering wheel. “Maybe we can…talk when I’m done?”

 Ken nodded. “Yeah.”

 “So you’ll wait for me then?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Alright.” His hand moved away in a slow caress and the car moved on. All too soon Bobby disappeared into the room with the Russian delegate. Ken sat, waiting, watching the woman who sat with him. Perhaps she was the lover, the wife of the Russian. He wouldn’t be the first to bring a spouse. And Bobby had asked him to wait. Though…he repressed a growl in his throat. There was something between them. Bobby had kissed him. And he had liked it. He felt something more towards the younger Kennedy than he did towards his wife. She was too…normal, too…weak. He had to protect her, protect her along with the whole nation. She was just another one of them. Of course he loved his kids. It was impossible not to. But when he thought about how they came to be…a harsh word, a fight, her tears, his apology, sex. Just as John had said. She didn’t…couldn’t understand what he needed, what he had to do. The argument had been used so many times over the years. ‘We just don’t click anymore.’ ‘We don’t understand each other.’ It was so true. He didn’t understand what was important to her anymore than she understood what was important to him. It was painful. Bobby…Bobby understood, dealt with some of the same things, could take care of himself. Sure there were times that he wanted to protect the younger man, but Bobby didn’t really need it. Bobby was just…Bobby. And Ken loved him for it. Not the ‘she’s-a-nice-Catholic-girl-you-should- really-get-to-know-her’ love, but the ‘god, -I-want-you, -I-need-you, -you-understand-me, -I-can’t-live-without -you’ type. The type he had never thought about before because it wasn’t done. But now it didn’t matter whether he thought about it or not, because he felt it. And maybe when Bobby got out of there he’d be able to tell him. So he waited.
 

 Finally Bobby came out, tired but…happy.

 “Let’s go home.”

 Ken nodded, there were black circles under Bobby’s eyes and he could feel them under his own as well.

 The drive back was silent, tense between them but relaxed too. Obviously the talk had gone all right. When they were inside the white house Bobby turned to Ken.

 “I…need some sleep,” he hesitated. “Do you want to come talk for a bit first?”

 Ken nodded. He had thought, and he needed to say that to Bobby. He followed the younger man to his room and sat when a chair was gestured at.

 “Ken…I…”

 “Bobby, let me talk.”

 Bobby nodded, and slumped into another chair. And slowly Ken explained. He explained the problems with his wife, what John had said, why he had reacted how he had and finally what he had figured, how he felt.

 “So you’re saying…” Bobby’s eyes were wide, almost amazed.

 Ken paled. “Please Bobby…I can’t. Not quite yet.”

 Bobby nodded and stood. He reached out a hand and Ken took it, rising to his feet as well. They stood there, Bobby’s hand clasping Ken’s.

 “I need to sleep,” Bobby whispered. “Stay with me?”

 “Where…?”

 “With me, Ken. Just sleep.”

 Ken nodded, slowly. “I’ll stay.”

 Bobby smiled, and, stripping down to his boxers, climbed into the bed, beckoned for Ken to do the same. There was nothing seductive or flirty about his movements, they were merely tired, simple, and needy. Fighting down a blush Ken followed, wrapping Bobby in his arms when the Kennedy curled into him.

 “Love ya, though, Ken.” Bobby whispered, burying his nose in Ken’s collarbone.

 Ken merely nodded, holding Bobby closer, and feeling himself drifting off to the lull of Bobby’s already rhythmic breathing, the young man had not been expecting a reply.

 ‘He knows me, needs me, trust me…and I need him, I trust him, I think I know him.’  Ken smiled. ‘Just a little time, Bobby. I’ll figure it out. Thank you.’
 

                             I’m going to love you, I just know it.
 
 

AN: I liked how this came out. It would have been somewhat silly to go any further. And it would help if I saw the movie more than once, I know. And, yes, I wrote this at one in the morning.

Isabella
I think it’s cute.
 
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