9. Chapter 9
Movement in my bed stirred me awake, breaking me out of one of my more pleasant dreams of holding a certain boy’s hand in the cold under thick blankets.
My eyes fluttered open to find Sam climbing into my bed.
Who else would it be? Regardless, he hardly ever came to me, probably so he wouldn’t bother me, but I never minded.
“Can I sleep here?” he asked, sliding under my covers before I answered because I always said yes.
“Bad dream?”
“Sleep fucking hates me. I’d never sleep if my body didn’t need it so much.”
“I get it.”
If only he’d finally get the help he needed so he could sleep and have fewer nightmares.
Sam had periodically told me stories of his life during conversion therapy, but only what he could stomach.
No doubt his time there had been a lot worse than he’d claimed.
My only assumption as to why it hasn’t been banned in this country is because of the continued resentment toward queer people and believing that we chose to be gay, not to mention the religious fervor against it.
They should call it what it was: torture.
I’d even heard stories about teens getting raped by the opposite sex as if that would miraculously ‘fix’ them.
I had no doubt those people had an underlying masochism to them.
The torturers derived pleasure from the children’s pain, not to mention my suspicions of grooming, masking it as ‘ treatment .’
I rolled onto my side as Sam snuggled into me, draping an arm over my waist. He closed his eyes, and I watched him try to sleep.
It must not have been one of his worst dreams since he’d never cried out and went back to sleep, so I wasn’t quite sure what brought him to me, not that I was complaining.
His breathing evened out, and the fingers touching my back twitched.
I smiled, grateful he’d get some sleep tonight, and so would I.
Sam didn’t have nightmares every night, but he had them often enough that I got little sleep myself, and I was tired throughout the day and most of the week.
Then, having to work late four to five days a week often left me exhausted.
It wasn’t Sam’s fault. Maybe one day it would finally be too much, and he’d finally seek the help he so desperately needed.
His fingers continued to twitch like a caress on my skin. My body shuddered for a moment, wanting to press itself tighter against him.
How could I know virtually every inch of Sam yet not have access to the most intimate parts of him?
What if he finally gave a hint that he wanted more with me?
Would I jump on the chance? Would I pretend I felt nothing out of fear?
I’d been pining for Sam for so long that I didn’t know how I’d react.
It would be stupid not to jump on the opportunity, though.
Despite being tired, I couldn’t close my eyes and drift off.
I reflected on the movie tonight, sitting so close to him under the blankets.
It had been so cold, but my body had been set on fire with his nearness, as it always was.
When I’d grabbed his freezing hands, I’d nearly confessed the truth then and finally told him I loved him.
The need to kiss him had been unbearable.
I didn’t know where I’d found the strength to hold myself back, but I did, pulling from deep within the wells of my soul, which was quickly running dry the longer I kept my secret.
His relaxed state held me captive, and I couldn’t stop staring at him.
The moment made me suddenly struggle to breathe out of desperation to claim him.
My wanting him could be soul-crushing sometimes.
Sam was my first and only love. He was mine, yet he wasn’t.
He was mine only in my dreams and fantasies, but we also belonged together.
We were soul mates. It fucking hurt sometimes, so much so that I’d break down whenever I got a moment of privacy.
I did everything possible to be strong for him, but when he wasn’t around, I allowed myself to crumble.
Sometimes it could be cathartic, but mostly, it just hurt more.
Sam needing me kept me going forward; that, and loving him.
Once I knew he’d fallen asleep, I gently leaned forward, careful not to move him around, and pressed my lips delicately to his. Only for a second. Nothing more . His warm breath ghosted my skin, and his lips were so soft. My heart ached with need before I pulled away.
When I did, wide eyes stared right back at me.
I gasped as Sam and I scrambled away from each other.
He looked appalled and shocked, while I was mortified and guilt-ridden.
I shouldn’t have kissed him in his sleep.
Why did I do that? It was fucking creepy, but I almost had no will against his pull.
He’d looked so beautiful sleeping, especially when his nightmares didn’t torment him.
I imagined he was happy, that we were boyfriends, and that he loved me back.
The street lights trickled in from the broken blinds, removing most of the color in my bedroom, casting dim, gray light over us, matching my sudden shift in mood.
We both sat on our knees, staring at each other, not saying anything.
Sam’s eyes grew wider as he touched his lips.
My heart hammered in my chest, and my stomach roiled in disgust at what I’d done and the fear of his reaction.
I fucking destroyed everything with my lack of self-control.
What was he going to do? I definitely had no idea what to do.
How could I fix this? Would he be angry?
Hate me? Push me away. I kissed him without his consent.
God, I’d ruined everything. My tears welled, and I tried to push them back, but a few slipped out.
“You kissed me,” he breathed.
I reached out to him before retracting my hand. “I’m… so sorry, Sam. God, how stupid. I shouldn’t…”
He dropped his hands into his lap and looked at them. “Have you… kissed me before like that?”
Another tear slipped out, and I angrily swiped it away and nodded. “I’m so sorry,” I said again.
Sam scooted back until he hit the wall behind him, drew up his legs, and wrapped his arms around them. “Why?”
His defensive posture set my guilt to peak levels.
His pulling away like that fucking hurt.
I shouldn’t have kissed him. It was so wrong to have done that without his permission.
I’d only given him a peck, but still… Now his body drew up tight, hating me for it, and I couldn’t blame him.
Shit, and he had so many other things to worry about without me creeping on him.
Fuck, it was now or never. Sam needed to know my feelings.
There was no turning back or hiding how I felt about him any longer.
How fucking stupid of me to assume I could keep this a secret forever.
Living with him and not having him was torture, but not having him in my life at all would fucking kill me.
All I could do was hope he would eventually forgive me.
My trembling, clammy hands tangled and twisted in each other, unable to look at him as I finally admitted the truth.
“I… kissed you because… I love you.” There, I said it. Everything was out in the wide open now, and there was no taking my words back. This was the moment of truth. The earth didn’t crumble and swallow me up. Lightning didn’t rain down on me. I was still whole as I waited for Sam’s response.
Would Sam climb out of my bed, pack up his things, and leave me alone forever? Or would he forgive me if I promised never to kiss him again?
Sam tore his gaze from his hands to look at me wide-eyed. Before I let him tell me never to come near him again, I plunged forward with the rest of my truth.
“I’ve always felt this way, Sam, ever since we were foster brothers.
We started out as friends, but over time, I just fell for you.
You hurt so much, and you… liked me and wanted to hang out with me.
All my life, I’ve felt alone and abandoned, but you took that away from me with your friendship and brightness.
Despite all your pain… how you could still smile was beyond me.
I wanted to be a part of that. And even with our lack of a decent education, you’re so fucking smart.
But mostly, I fed off of your kindness. It all culminated into this clusterfuck of want and need and fear and abandonment issues. ”
I scoffed and brushed an angry hand across my wet face.
“You always complain about your issues, but fuck if I don’t have my own.
You help soothe them and give me a direction in life…
a purpose I never had before. After being with you and taking care of you the best way I know how, you’ve given me a direction and a future when before I had none of that. Eventually, it all turned to love.”
“W-why didn’t you tell me? All… All these years…”
“Fear? Fear of being a burden to you. I was afraid you’d walk away from me, leaving me alone and without purpose. I didn’t want to know that you didn’t want me back because I’d rather have you need me. What if we tried to have more between us, and you left me? I… couldn’t fucking bear it.”
Sam picked at his nails, thinking about my words. He probably had a lot to process with my rambling. My brain and heart weren’t faring much better.
“Does anyone know about… how you feel?”
Shit, I hadn’t expected that question at all. “Yeah… I didn’t tell our friends anything, but they figured it out on their own and asked. I only told them I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, which is true. But they know nothing about… what happened to you or anything.”
“God, it makes so much sense now.”
“What does?”
“All those times they’d tease me about you. I thought…”
“What did you think?”
“That they assumed I was into you.”
I swallowed and dropped my head. He didn’t say he was into me, only that they’d teased him about it.
Fuck. This was why I hadn’t wanted to tell Sam the truth.
I rubbed my aching heart with my hand, unable to look at him, my eyes stinging from the weight of his rejection.
My lips trembled from the effort of holding back the dam. “Please don’t leave me, Sam.”
“Leave you? Hell, I’d never fucking leave you, Nate.”
He held open his arms, and I scrambled over to him like a magnet, wrapping my legs around his waist and looping my arms around his neck, pulling him hard against me. Sam’s calloused hands slid underneath my shirt and held me back as I rested my head on his shoulder.
My emotional turmoil came to a head, and the dam finally burst. My body racked with quiet sobs.
The excruciating pain of holding my feelings back for years was evident with each tear I shed.
I hadn’t realized how much of a psychological toll it’d taken on me until I finally admitted my love for him, along with the overwhelming fear of abandonment.
Everything was now out in the open. It was up to Sam to decide what was to become of us. All I could do was accept whatever he chose.