7. Chapter 7
I yawned as I shuffled into the hot shower.
I should’ve slept in after our late night.
Sam usually struggled to go back to sleep after one of his more terrifying nightmares, so he’d get up, putter around the apartment, and then he would meditate.
Sometimes I slept in, but this morning, I couldn’t, missing his warmth in bed.
The meditation for Sam had been Alpha’s idea after looking up ways to help him with focusing.
Alpha researched ways to help since I’d been clueless.
My reading wasn’t the best either, so it was hard for me to make sense of any research I did on my own.
So, I did my best and offered Sam my patience and friendship.
Living on the streets before we met Alpha didn’t leave us with too many resources to find help.
Thoughts about Sam needing a professional slipped into my mind again, but I shoved them right out.
I was too tired and just wanted a moment to relax.
Living with Sam wasn’t hard, for the most part.
I loved being around him. He was fun and sweet, especially when he felt good.
But no doubt, he had his rough days, which, in turn, could be rough on me, but I never showed it, or I tried not to.
I didn’t want Sam to feel guilty, which he inevitably would.
After lathering my hands with soap, I ran it over my dick, which instantly got hard, as my mind flooded with images of Sam, naked in bed, hovering over me as he pounded into my ass. Unfortunately, the closest thing I ever got to having sex was with my hand and my fantasies.
Neither of us had ever had sex before. I was stupidly saving myself for him, while Sam never seemed interested in anyone, either.
He’d never talked about wanting another guy or how hot some guy at the bar was.
I often wondered if he was asexual, but I’d never brought it up.
Did the conversion therapy do that to him?
I definitely wasn’t asexual, but I suppose since we never talked about sex at all, Sam could’ve assumed the same thing about me.
Was it sad to masturbate the next morning after spending my evenings in bed holding and consoling a suffering Sam? Probably. But I needed to do something to ease my urges.
I silenced my mind to seek out some sort of inadequate relief. It was better than nothing, but sometimes, nothing was better than reminders of what I could never have.
My soapy hand slid smoothly over my dick, giving it slow and methodical strokes as the hot water spilled over me. I should be making this fast because we’d run out of hot water soon. This apartment was shit with small water heaters.
Sam had my ass in the air, kissing my cheeks before he ran his wet, warm tongue over my hole. I tried to imagine what it would feel like to have him do that to me. It probably felt perfect. The very idea had my cock throbbing.
I stroked faster while using my other soapy fingers to rub over my hole.
My body grew warm on the inside, flushing my face and ears.
The pressure around my groin grew intense.
I shut my eyes and leaned against the cracked shower tiles before my balls shot out their load all over the tub and my fist. My body stilled and then shuddered, my hand stroking faster, pulling out every last drop and keeping that lingering climax going for as long as possible, but it was over as quickly as it started.
Before I could catch my breath, the water grew colder, so I quickly soaped up my body and rinsed it off.
By the time I finished, the water was freezing.
I dried off, wrapped the towel around my waist while shivering, and stepped out of the bathroom to find Sam watching me from our beat-up couch in the living room.
But he wasn’t looking at my face, but staring down at the towel.
Did he hear me in there? I thought I’d been careful not to make too much noise.
My face burned as I hurried into my room and walked into my tiny closet, where I kept folded T-shirts, jeans, shorts, and hoodies on the shelf above.
I snagged a black T-shirt, a pair of ripped jeans, some underwear, and a gray hoodie from the top of the pile of folded clothes, put them on, and headed to the kitchen to find coffee waiting for me.
“Thanks for making me coffee,” I said.
He gave me a big smile as if he hadn’t been suffering all night. It made my heart flutter. I loved his smile. It lit up his entire aura, making him more beautiful than he already was.
“Anytime, man.”
He would write himself notes and place them around the apartment when he needed to remember things.
It didn’t always work, but he had one right next to the coffeepot for when he got up before me, which said, ‘Make Nate some coffee with two scoops of creamer and two spoonfuls of sugar in the morning.’ I loved how he tried to take care of me, too.
Then, a feeling of suffocating sadness and loneliness hit me as I tried to beat it back with a stick.
Could I do this for the rest of my life?
I swore to him I’d never leave him, and he made the same promise to me.
But could I live a life without having him for more?
Could I live a life where I never had sex or experienced pleasure with a man?
What if I ended up finding someone? What if they didn’t like Sam?
No way. I’d never date anyone who wouldn’t accept him. Sam and I were a package deal.
Rubbing one out this morning reminded me of how lonely I was. It became a constant lingering emotion, like an itch I could never reach to scratch. There had been so many times I’d nearly given in and told Sam how I felt, that I loved him, and wanted to be with him for the rest of our lives.
I wanted to kiss him in the rain, as corny as it sounded, hold him every night instead of when he needed me, to make love in every corner of this shitty apartment. Hell, I’d take holding his hand whenever we were out grocery shopping or at the thrift store.
“You okay?”
Sam’s question silenced my thoughts. Thank god, because they were about to consume me.
It was getting worse. I’d been so good at controlling my feelings, but it got harder and harder as time went on.
It didn’t help as I watched Stix and Stone find love and show their happiness to the world.
I wanted that with Sam so much that I could practically taste it. My envy was nearly painful.
I smiled at him. “Yep. Just thinking about stupid shit.”
I walked over to the old brown plaid couch and sat next to him as it groaned under my weight, though I barely weighed anything.
“What are you looking at?” I asked as he scrolled through his phone.
Our phones cost a lot of money, and the monthly bill for Wi-Fi was a lot, but they were a necessary expense.
Fuck, that reminded me of the hospital bill coming up. I needed to set aside money for that from our tips. Maybe they’d let me make payments on it.
Sam bit his smiling bottom lip. “I’m looking up things for you and me to do.”
I rested my head on his shoulder to watch him, careful not to spill my coffee. “We do a lot of things together.”
“We skate and work together, and we live together, but we don’t do anything beyond that, and I get it.
We don’t have a lot of cash floating around.
I’m trying to find something that isn’t expensive.
I remember this park my mom used to take me to when I was little—one of the nicer and one of the few memories I had as a kid.
I remember the ducks, and Mom gave me some bread to feed them.
I would giggle at the waddling bodies as they fought for food.
You’re not supposed to feed ducks bread anymore, but we didn’t know better then.
Maybe Mom did know better.” He looked up at me with wide eyes.
“Maybe she was mean to ducks like she was mean to me. Do you think—”
I rested my hand on his arm. “Did you find anything fun to do?”
Sam nodded and leaned in to show me pictures of an outdoor movie night. He hadn’t showered yet, so his sleepy smell, mixed with coffee, lingered on his skin. I shut my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath of him before I focused on the website he showed me.
“This is Federal Hill. They’ve got a free movie night tomorrow.
The place is called Flicks from the Hill.
We’ll need to take a bus there, but it’s not too far.
I never even knew about it until I looked up things to do that were free.
It’s going to be cold, but we’ll bring our blankets.
Snow is also expected the next day, so there shouldn’t be too many people.
Maybe we can grab a pizza and have a picnic.
There’s a pizza joint nearby, if that’s okay.
Or maybe we can find a place that sells nachos.
I mean, that costs money, and I’m supposed to find something free. Sorry. Maybe not pizza or nachos.”
I smiled at his rambling. He kept quiet for the most part, but he felt comfortable talking around me, which I loved. I could listen to him all day. “Pizza and a movie sound perfect.”
He looked at me with his bright, gem-like green eyes under thick red lashes. “Yeah?”
“Yep. Sounds like a great time, man.”
“Cool.” He looked away and rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… you do so much for me and make me feel… safe, like I can always be myself without judgment or you getting angry.”
I reached for his chin and pulled him to look at me.
It took all my power not to stare at his full mouth with that cute hoop going through his bottom lip.
We sat so close that it would take nothing to lean in to kiss him and finally claim the very person who should be mine, but I managed to resist the urge.
“You should never be made to feel less. Our friends are good to you, too. I wouldn’t be friends with them if they weren’t. You’re special, Sam. After everything you’ve gone through… Fuck, to be so amazing despite it all.”
I love you for it. I love you.
“I… just feel bad sometimes. Like I’m a burden. And I know you want me to get help…”
“You’re never a burden. Ever. You hear me?”
He nodded, still looking uncertain. I’d learned enough over the years with Sam that it took more than words to heal someone. He really needed a professional.
“I understand your fears, but I’m worried that eventually I won’t be enough to help you,” I admitted. “Years have gone by, and… things aren’t improving for you. I’m just not qualified to help you sometimes, though I really try.”
His eyes met mine with furrowed brows. “You’re so wrong, Nate. So very wrong. You’ve got no idea how good you make me feel. Yes, I still struggle, but fuck, if I didn’t have you…”
He didn’t need to say the words, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear them. I often wondered what would’ve happened to him if he had no one he could cling to or have as a best friend.
The very idea of him all alone, suffering, made me want to scream or hurt something—hurt the very people who tried to destroy someone as special as Sam. He may suffer from time to time, but they didn’t destroy him, as he often claimed.
We found each other for a reason. Not only did he need me, but I needed him. Sam also helped me with my own personal demons and abandonment issues.
Maybe there was no such thing, but I believed in soul mates. Sam was mine. We existed for each other.
“This is your room,” says the portly man, my new foster father, who told me to call him Jimmy. One out of how many now? I never really knew since I didn’t learn how to count correctly until I was six years old.
“You have to share with Sampson. He’s a pain in the ass, so you’ll just have to suck it up. I have no more room for you. I wasn’t supposed to take another fucking kid in, but here we are.”
This will be another house that won’t ever want me.
No one ever wants me. There was only that one time, about five years ago, when I was nine, a family talked about adopting me.
My hopes had soared for the first time since I could remember.
They were so nice, with a pretty home and a cute cat.
But a few months later, the system dumped me off at another foster home.
Ever since then, I’ve promised myself that I will never hold out hope again.
Their abandonment had nearly crushed me.
I sobbed for days afterward. My new foster parents had hated that, not knowing what to do with all my stupid crying.
The man leaves me alone with my roommate, sitting in his bed, pretending to read a book, but his green eyes keep darting at me over the edge of the book. His red hair looks like he cuts it himself. I love the color. I’d never met a redhead before.
“Hi, I’m Nathaniel, but everyone calls me Nate.”
“I’m Sampson. Sometimes people call me Sam.”
Sam looks to be a couple of years older than me. He’s definitely bigger. And he’s really, really cute. He looks like someone I would want to have as a boyfriend.
He gives me a shy smile that has my heart skipping a few beats. It sucks me in like no smile has done before. That’s when I noticed the fading bruise on his cheekbone.
“What happened?”
His smile faltered, and he shrugged. “I… I’m just a bad person. I make people angry too much.”
I don’t see it. He doesn’t seem bad to me at all. He looks beautiful and kind of shy.
“How are you bad?”
He shrugs again, unable to look at me. “I dunno… I forget things too much and don’t do as I’m told. I can’t help that I forget stuff all the time. It’s hard to remember everything.”
“You get into trouble because you forget stuff, and they… hit you for it?”
“They try not to, but I make them so mad. I’m really bad and worthless. That’s what Jim calls me… that, and he calls me a piece of shit.”
My hands fist tightly, and my heart beats too fast with this sudden urge to protect Sam.
I don’t know where this protective need comes from.
I’ve had plenty of foster brothers and sisters in my life.
Some were better than others, but I never attached myself to anyone because everything in life is temporary.
“Then I’ll help you remember.”
He bites his bottom lip as he smiles. “Thanks.” His voice is just a whisper, but I feel his appreciation and need for a friend.
Yes, I would spend the rest of my life without someone else as long as Sam was always with me, even only as friends.