Jock Next Bed (BL)
Chapter 233: Vale Vickers

Chapter 233: Vale Vickers

Chris made his way to the front door, Wilson lingering a few paces behind, watching. When Chris pulled it open, any lingering fragments of his earlier anxiety solidified into a heavy dread.

Not again.

Standing on the polished porch were two familiar figures.

"Cory?" Chris blinked, forcing a polite smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "What are you—?"

"Chris." Cory’s smile was flawless, as usual—charming, smooth, unnervingly polished. His shirt was tucked in perfectly, his hair slicked back as though not even the breeze dared to touch him. He looked like a man who’d rehearsed life itself. "Good to see you."

Slightly behind him, leaning against the doorframe with his hands casually in his pockets, was Vale, Cory’s younger brother.

Chris’s eyes flickered to him instinctively. The contrast between the two was jarring. Where Cory was polished and elegant, Vale was dark and stormy, wearing a black hoodie despite the pleasant weather. Shadows under his eyes deepened the natural sharpness of his features, and his stare was hard, perpetually irritated. He was taller and broader than Chris remembered, and it was only a matter of time before he surpassed Cory. How old was he now? 16? 17?

"What are you guys doing here?" Chris asked, his voice lighter than he felt. Well, not that he should be that surprised to find them here since their family also had one of the houses beside this one.

Cory answered smoothly. "We happened to be here..." His eyes briefly flicked to Vale, the unspoken explanation hanging in the air.

Had Vale run off again? And as always, Cory—kind Cory—got pulled into it.

"Noticed your lights were on last night—saw your cars this morning. Thought we’d drop by." His gaze slid past Chris and into the house, already noting the muffled voices from the dining room. "Looks like you’re entertaining."

Chris shifted uneasily. "Yeah. Sort of a getaway."

But his mind was already racing. They were here last night?

Last night.

The memory of him and Sky in the pool flashed behind his eyes. Their backyards weren’t that far apart. Anyone who tried to look could’ve seen everything.

Vale didn’t smile. He barely looked at Chris, his gaze flickering briefly before darting into the house like he was scanning for threats. His sharp jaw was tense, his hands shoved deep into his pockets.

Cory stepped inside too, but at least he had the decency to offer an apologetic look for the intrusion.

"Hey, you!" Wilson greeted, sizing them up quickly. Seeing no immediate threat, he returned to his seat.

As they entered the dining area, an uneasy hush fell across the table. All eyes shifted to the newcomers.

Vale’s gaze landed fully on the group. He didn’t smile.

"Who are they?" His voice was cold, almost accusatory, as if they were squatters trespassing on private property.

"Cut it out," Chris snapped, irritated. "They’re my friends."

Vale’s sharp eyes swept over each person, like he was cataloging them.

"Friends." He repeated the word like it tasted bitter.

"Stop it," Cory said sharply, shooting him a glance before addressing the others with that careful diplomatic smile. "My apologies. He’s a little... sensitive sometimes. Don’t mind him. I’m Cory Vickers, and this is my younger brother, Vale."

Vale’s jaw tightened. "I am not little," he cut in, voice flat but firm.

Awkward silence hovered.

Wilson shot Chris a sideways glance, reading the tension instantly.

"Well, the table’s still warm," Wilson offered, trying to defuse it. "Want to join us for breakfast?"

Cory smiled—pleasant, practiced. "We wouldn’t want to impose."

Before Chris could reply, the housekeepers had already appeared, efficiently sliding in two extra chairs and setting out fresh glasses, cutlery, mugs, and napkins as if they had been expecting them.

"Why do you even have this many spare chairs?" Sky whispered.

Chris whispered back, "I honestly have no idea."

The brothers faces was easily read. It was clear Vale didn’t care for this and wanted to leave. As for Cory, he looked like he didn’t want to impose but also didn’t want to be rude and reject the offer so he nodded.

Vale moved first, circling the table. Quietly, almost automatically, he reached Cory’s chair, pulling it out for him with deliberate care.

"Thank you, Vale." Cory smiled and took his seat.

Vale slid into the seat beside him, close, their shoulders nearly brushing. He poured them both coffee without a word.

Sky watched them uneasily. The table suddenly felt much smaller.

Cory Vickers sat with his back perfectly straight, posture polished like he’d spent years in etiquette training. His hair was immaculately styled, not a strand out of place, and his crisp shirt and slim-fit pants looked like they came straight off a designer’s runway. He smiled as he reached for his mug, but there was something clinical about it, like a politician constantly aware of how he looked.

Vale, on the other hand, slouched ever so slightly, his dark hoodie still zipped up, hands resting loosely on the table. His eyes swept the room with a kind of detached watchfulness, as though he was mapping every single person present, measuring them for some unknown reason.

Sky glanced at Chris. For some reason, guilt gnawed at him—as if he’d triggered all this chaos, though logically he hadn’t. Chris needed rest. Now, he was getting anything but.

And Cory... there was something about him that stirred a strange familiarity, like Sky had seen him somewhere before but couldn’t quite place it. One thing was certain though—Chris’s family had good genes. Uncomfortably good.

Meanwhile, Henry was having his own quiet crisis. His eyes kept flickering toward Vale like iron pulled toward a magnet.

Vale caught it instantly.

Henry, unable to help himself, forced a shaky smile. "Uh... hi. I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Henry."

Vale’s cold eyes pinned him. "Obviously we haven’t."

Wilson leaned over and whispered—not quietly enough—"Dude, seriously? He’s like sixteen. You trying to go to jail?"

Vale’s eyes narrowed faintly. "Almost eighteen."

Henry froze. "Oh... uh... that’s—cool."

Vale’s voice remained flat. "But not interested."

Henry stammered, "I-I wasn’t—I mean—"

"Sure," Vale cut him off, returning his gaze to his untouched plate, which Cory had silently filled for him.

Cory jumped in, voice still polished. "Vale’s always been direct."

A warning glance flickered between the brothers. The tension at the table thickened, as if the air itself had been squeezed thinner.

Wilson shook his head, whispering (loudly) again, "That’s still jail in emotional years, bro."

Rain bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Even Mei’s lips twitched.

Noel and Rachel exchanged glances but stayed quiet, focusing on their food.