Chapter Nineteen
Sam lay naked on top of the covers, pressed against Connor’s warm body.
Connor had his eyes closed and one arm draped across Sam’s stomach.
Sam felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, and a lump lodged in his throat.
He thought of all those times he’d had sex, riddled with anxiety, willing it to be over, never knowing it could feel like this.
Sam had tried to hurry Connor—aided by an arsenal of lube—through his painstakingly gentle prep work.
But Connor displayed an attentiveness to Sam’s comfort that made him feel both indulged and embarrassed.
He took to the task with a pragmatism that Sam recognized from work, his eyes narrowing in concentration like they did when he was focused on a complex installation.
It would have been amusing if Sam hadn’t been so distracted by the sensation of Connor guiding one then two fingers inside him.
Connor drew his fingers in and out, curving upward to nudge Sam’s prostate and leaving him loose-limbed and panting.
He kissed Sam’s open mouth, their breaths mingling.
“That’s it,” he coaxed as Sam relaxed around him. “Feels better when you’re ready.”
And it did. Sam wondered if he’d ever really been ready before.
Connor retrieved a box of condoms from the nightstand and didn’t try to wheedle his way out of wearing one, which Sam had encountered all too often with other men.
Sam took the opportunity to admire how nice Connor’s dick looked in his hand as he sheathed it.
Connor caught him staring and returned a bashful smile that made Sam pull him in for another open-mouthed kiss.
As they got into position—limbs bumping awkwardly and snickering with first-time jitters—Connor reached for a pillow to prop up Sam’s hips, and Sam’s stomach squirmed with unease.
All the care Connor was lavishing on him made Sam feel exposed.
He wanted to skip ahead so there was less chance of Connor deciding he was more trouble than he was worth.
But Connor seemed determined to take his time. He reached down to smooth the line of worry from Sam’s forehead. “You know we don’t have to do anything, right?”
“I know. I want to.”
“Yeah?”
Sam nodded. “What about you?”
Connor was nestled between Sam’s thighs, and the way his eyes darkened sent the heat rising to Sam’s cheeks. “Fuck, Sam, I want you so bad.” His voice cracked with restraint, and he cupped Sam’s chin in his hand. “You have no idea.”
Sam arched his back instinctively. “Please, Connor...”
“I got you.” Connor ran his thumb across Sam’s lips then slipped his wide, warm hands behind Sam’s knees and lifted his legs. They both groaned when Connor teased the head of his cock against Sam’s slick opening. “Oh Christ...” Connor growled and held still.
Sam reached for Connor’s hips to push him forward, wanting to be filled, but Connor resisted, chuckling at Sam’s impatience. “All in good time, Samuel.”
Connor eased inside him, stopping to let Sam adjust as he went. When he was in to the hilt, Connor bent to kiss him, and Sam moaned into his mouth at the intensity of the feeling. Sometimes being immobilized set off a flurry of panic, but with Connor, he was anchored, secure.
Connor began to move, attuned to the slightest grimace, the softest whimper, a strange responsiveness that felt so out of place at first and then like the most natural thing in the world. They were in this together, building off one another’s pleasure.
Sam hadn’t realized how much more capacity he had to feel.
With the inner chatter turned down, his body tingled, arousal flooding his limbs, each thrust heightening the growing swell of his pleasure.
The weight of Connor’s hands against the backs of his thighs and the way he moved inside him set Sam’s skin on fire.
He gasped and ground his teeth, pulling Connor closer.
“You good?” Connor asked, his eyes searching Sam’s face.
“So good,” Sam whispered. “Don’t stop...”
Time seemed to expand and contract, blurring at the edges. Connor changed positions when the pressure got too intense, moving faster then slowing to keep Sam on the brink.
He pressed his mouth to Sam’s ear, his voice strained. “Look at you, so beautiful.” As if Sam were a masterpiece to behold and not a mess of nerve endings as he fell apart in the man’s arms.
Sam found himself once again on his back, Connor stroking his cock in time to his rolling thrusts, when he felt a shockwave ripple through his body.
He let out a cry of surprise as he realized he was coming, and then the release swallowed him whole.
Connor buried his face in Sam’s neck with a ragged groan and finished moments later.
Digging his fingers into Connor’s back, Sam sucked air into his lungs with shuddering breaths.
He felt raw and cracked open. Mournful yet deliriously happy.
They rocked together, still intertwined, as Connor kissed him tenderly, the world falling away.
Beside him in bed, Connor shifted. Sam swiped his eyes with the back of his hand.
“Hey, you,” Connor murmured into his shoulder.
“Hey,” Sam said, turning to face him.
“That was some crazy wish fulfillment.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve had a crush on you since high school.”
“No, you haven’t,” Sam scoffed.
Connor nodded seriously. “I don’t think I even realized it until recently. At the time, I just couldn’t get you out of my head.”
“Why?”
“You’re ridiculously cute, for one. And maybe a tiny part of me was envious.”
“Envious?” Sam repeated, incredulous. “You would’ve been the only one.”
“You were so up-front about who you were. Meanwhile, I was a cesspool of self-hatred.”
Sam propped himself up on his elbow. “What changed?”
“It’s weird, but it took actually getting with a guy to realize how much I like this about me.”
“Have you, um, been with a lot of guys?”
“I live in Oakdale, Sam, not under a rock,” Connor said with mock indignation. “I’ve had my share of variety.”
“You like variety?” Sam asked circularly, still not able to pin the man down.
“Sure.” Connor shrugged. “I was seeing someone casually for a while who hated ass play. Like anything to do with it.”
“You were with a side—” Sam caught himself. “Right, sorry, you don’t do labels.”
“We ended up having a lot of fun. He helped me up my game.”
Sam felt a stirring between his legs. “So sex changed things for you?”
“Well, I’d been with girls before and felt so hollow afterward,” Connor said, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.
“If it was just going to be the same with guys, I would have thrown in the towel and become the straightest version of myself I could be.” He grinned, tilting his head.
“But it wasn’t. It was fucking life-affirming.
I’d never felt more myself, more at home in my body.
I knew then it was too big a part of me to wish away. ”
“Maybe that’s why you’re so good at it,” Sam said.
Connor gave a short laugh. “Hardly. I’m not nearly as experienced—” He stopped, throwing Sam a nervous look.
“As me?”
Connor cleared his throat. “I wasn’t suggesting... the other day, you just sounded like—”
“Like I’d tried a lot of things?” Sam offered, and Connor nodded. “Does that bother you?”
Connor shook his head. “If you want to do something different, you can talk me through what that looks like. But I’m not going to hurt you, Sam. I’m not built that way.”
Sam rested his cheek against Connor’s chest. He was starting to think maybe neither was he. “You know, despite all that, I’ve never topped.”
“No?” Connor asked. Sam looked up, and Connor flashed him a smile, shy and sultry at the same time. “Would you like to?”
Sam blushed. He’d never been confident enough to inhabit the role. And people were quick to assume, just as he had with Connor. They took one look at Sam and decided for him.
“Maybe... I don’t know.” Sam chewed on his lower lip. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been curious. “I think... yeah. I think I would.” His stomach chose that moment to let out a rumble of protest.
Connor burst out laughing. “I’m a terrible host!”
Sam laughed, covering his face with his hand. “No, trust me, you are a very generous host.”
Connor stroked Sam’s hair back from his forehead. “I lured you here under false pretenses and didn’t even feed you. Let me get on to that.”
Sam would have been content to remain curled up in bed all evening if hunger hadn’t asserted itself into the equation. Connor pulled himself up and leaned over the side of the bed to reach for his pants.
“You’re not actually going to get out and make me dinner?”
“Nope,” Connor said, flopping back against the pillows with his phone in hand. “I’m ordering takeout.”
Sam lay watching Connor tap away at his screen. He was still wrapped in a heady glow, his body tingling with the memory of Connor’s hands on him. He placed a palm on Connor’s bare stomach and guided it along his chest until the man captured it in his own.
“What are you thinking about?” Connor asked, tossing down his phone.
“Nothing,” Sam deflected, embarrassed to have been replaying the encounter in his head.
“Liar.” Connor smirked and moved in to kiss him.
His warm lips pushed open Sam’s mouth, filling it with his tongue. Sam snuggled against Connor, seeking the heat of his skin. He wasn’t sure how long they lay tangled in each other before there came a loud buzz from down the hall.
“That’s some fast pizza,” Connor remarked, lifting his head.
“I’ll get it.” Sam pulled himself from bed and threw on his jeans. He reached for his sweatshirt, realized it was Connor’s, and shrugged it on anyway as he stumbled into the hall. “Wait, do you have cash?” he called out.
“There should be some in the key bowl.”
Sam fished out a twenty from the bowl on the hallway table and walked to the door.
When he swung it open, he came face-to-face with Brian, who was carrying a six-pack of beer at his side.
If Brian was surprised to find Sam at Connor’s apartment, hair mussed and wearing his boss’s oversized sweater, he didn’t show it.
“Sorry for the late call. Connor helped me out babysitting, and I finally got round to saying thanks...” He held out the beer.
Sam took it awkwardly, not sure what else to do.
“Was there enough in there?” He heard Connor’s voice behind him, and then Connor appeared in the doorway, stiffening as he caught sight of Brian.
“What is it, tax season already? This guy better be paying you overtime—” Brian stopped midsentence as realization dawned on his face.
All the blood rushed to Sam’s cheeks.
“Uh, actually...” Connor halted and cleared his throat. “Sam and I are sort of seeing each other.”
All three of them stood in silence for a moment, independently digesting the news.
“That’s awesome, man,” Brian said with a smile. “Happy for you.”
“But it’s not...” Connor stammered. “We’re keeping it—”
“On the DL?” Brain offered. “Don’t worry, my lips are sealed.”
Connor’s shoulders relaxed.
“Well, great chat,” Brian continued, reaching over to slap Connor’s arm. “I’ll, um, see you both at trivia Thursday?”
Connor gave a wooden nod, and they watched Brian walk back to his car. When Connor closed the door, Sam noticed his hand tremble as he drew the latch.
“It’s Brian,” he mumbled with a confused frown. “I knew he’d be cool, so why am I...?”
Sam put the beer down and took Connor’s hand in his. “It’s like a muscle. It gets easier the more you use it.”
Connor exhaled through his lips and folded Sam into a hug.
“Seeing each other?” Sam said into his shoulder. “What is this, a nineties sitcom?”
“Should I have said courting?”
“I think we just skipped a few steps in the courting department.” Sam smirked, pulling away. “You could’ve said we were hooking up. Friends with benefits.”
Connor blinked. “Is that what you think this is?”
Sam stared into those soft blue eyes, and his chest tightened. He shook his head. “No.”
Connor’s smile returned. “Good.”
The doorbell rang again, making them both jump.
“That’d better be the fucking pizza,” Connor muttered.