Bobby (The Loud House Fanfic) (Lori)

The sound of Lori Loud’s phone call filled her room like a tiny, private weather system.

“Sugar Bear, I am telling you, if you say the word slice one more time, I am going to start believing the golf club is cursed,” Lori said, pacing in front of her mirror with the kind of energy that meant she was both annoyed and delighted by it.

Bobby’s voice crackled through the speaker, warm and easy. “I’m just trying to help, baby. You said you wanted advice, and I’m giving you golf advice.”

“That is not advice,” Lori said, stopping to point at the phone like Bobby could see her. “That is a threat in polite clothing.”

A laugh came through the line. “You love me anyway.”

Lori rolled her eyes so hard they almost did a full circuit. “Unfortunately, yes.”

She was sprawled in the rare, precious shape of being home and unbothered. Her room looked exactly like Lori: neat, pink, controlled, but with enough personality scattered around to remind everyone this was still the domain of a Loud. A few magazines lay on her desk. Her phone charger dangled off the nightstand. A jacket was tossed over the back of her chair with the casual arrogance of someone who knew she would put it away later, probably.

On the bed, her shoes sat side by side like obedient soldiers.

“Can you come to the driving range later?” Bobby asked.

“I might,” Lori said, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. “Depends on whether my family lets me survive the day in peace.”

Bobby made a sympathetic noise. “That bad?”

“That good,” Lori said. “Which means there will definitely be chaos trying to ruin it.”

As if the house had heard her and taken the challenge personally, there came a soft knock.

Not enough to be polite.

Just enough to be suspicious.

Lori narrowed her eyes. “Hold on, Sugar Bear. I think someone’s about to commit a crime against my boundaries.”

“What kind of crime?” Bobby asked.

“The sibling kind.”

Before Bobby could respond, the door creaked open.

Lincoln peeked inside with the expression of a kid who knew he was already in trouble but was hoping the trouble could be negotiated down to a warning.

Lori turned slowly.

Lincoln froze in the doorway, one hand still on the knob.

Her expression changed from annoyed to dangerous in a single blink. “Lincoln.”

“Hey, Lori,” he said carefully. “You, uh, busy?”

She held up the phone. “What do you think?”

He winced. “Right. I see that now.”

Bobby’s voice drifted from the phone, muffled but audible. “Uh, babe? Who is that?”

Lori tilted the phone slightly. “It’s Lincoln. And he is currently standing in my room like a suspicious raccoon.”

Lincoln straightened. “I do not look like a raccoon.”

“You do when you’re caught,” Lori said.

On the phone, Bobby laughed. “Tell him I said hi.”

“I will not be telling him you said hi until I know why he’s here,” Lori said.

Lincoln raised both hands in defense. “I was looking for my math notebook.”

Lori stared at him.

He stared back.

Then she pointed at the shelf. “You mean the one sitting right next to your game controller?”

Lincoln turned, followed her finger, and saw the notebook exactly where she had said it would be.

He sighed. “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed,” Lori said.

Bobby made a small sound of amusement. “Sounds like you got busted, Lincoln.”

Lincoln groaned. “This is humiliating.”

Lori leaned against her dresser, phone still in hand. “It should be. You barged in here during a very important conversation.”

Lincoln squinted at her. “You were arguing about golf.”

Lori lifted a brow. “And?”

“And Bobby called you babe and sugar bear,” Lincoln said, making his voice overly flat in a way that suggested he was trying not to smile. “That is a lot to hear before lunch.”

Bobby, with the cheerful confidence of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, said, “Hey there, Lincoln.”

Lincoln blinked at the phone. “Oh, great. He can hear me.”

“Loud and clear,” Bobby said.

Lori covered the bottom of the phone with her hand and whispered, “Do not encourage him.”

Bobby whispered back through the speaker, “Too late.”

She gave the phone a look that was very nearly a glare, if a glare could be affectionate.

Lincoln wandered farther into the room, finally grabbing the notebook from his own desk space like the whole incident had been staged just for his embarrassment. But instead of leaving right away, he hesitated.

That alone made Lori suspicious.

“What now?” she asked.

Lincoln scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing. I just… wanted to ask if you were still using my headphones.”

Lori stared.

Then she slowly turned her head toward the desk where, sure enough, a pair of Lincoln’s headphones sat tangled beside her phone charger.

Lincoln closed his eyes.

“Oh my gosh,” he muttered.

Lori sighed in the heavy, patient way of an older sister who had been alive long enough to see this pattern before. “Lincoln, sweetie, if you were any more unorganized, your own shadow would start looking for you.”

Bobby laughed so hard on the line that Lori had to pull the phone away from her ear.

Lincoln crossed his arms. “Okay, I get it. My stuff migrates. It happens.”

“In my room?” Lori asked.

“Apparently,” he said.

Bobby was still laughing. “Honestly, that sounds like a Lincoln problem.”

Lincoln pointed toward the phone. “See? That’s exactly why I came in here. I needed backup and got ambushed.”

Lori smiled despite herself. “You didn’t get ambushed. You got outmatched.”

Lincoln looked between her and the phone, then gave up with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’m leaving before I lose more dignity.”

“Smart move,” Lori said.

He took two steps toward the door, then stopped and glanced back. “You know, it is kind of weird hearing Bobby call you Sugar Bear.”

Lori’s expression turned smug. “And yet, here you are, still alive.”

Bobby’s voice came through the speaker, silky with teasing. “He can borrow the nickname if he wants.”

Lincoln made a face. “No thank you.”

That made Lori laugh for real, the kind of laugh that loosened the whole room. Even Lincoln cracked a grin before heading out.

As he reached the doorway, he paused again and said, “For the record, I did not mean to interrupt.”

Lori softened a little. “I know.”

And because she knew her brother would overthink it if she didn’t, she added, “Just knock next time.”

Lincoln nodded. “Deal.”

The door shut behind him.

For a moment, the room went quiet again, the way it had been before Lincoln entered, but now the quiet felt warmer, as if the interruption had left a little laughter behind.

Bobby spoke first. “Your brother always that dramatic?”

“Only when he’s wandering around my room like it’s a public park,” Lori said.

Bobby hummed. “So, am I still Sugar Bear?”

Lori smiled and dropped onto her bed. “For now.”

“That sounded like a threat.”

“It was a promise.”

He laughed softly. “I miss you.”

The words landed gently, the way Bobby always knew how to say things. Lori looked at the phone in her hand, then at the shoes lined up by the bed, then at the little slice of afternoon sun cutting across her floor.

She smiled, smaller this time, more private.

“I miss you too, Sugar Bear.”

And somewhere in the house, probably in the hallway, Lincoln was most likely realizing he still had no idea where his headphones had been before Lori found them.

But in Lori’s room, the call went on, the day settled, and the noise of the Loud house faded back into its usual familiar storm.