17 - Sam
S AM WAS ON THE LOW modern couch, watching the giant TV image projected on a waterfall that sheeted down the suite’s two-story wall.
It tumbled into a noisy froth, feeding a series of geometric channels and pools across the transparent floor.
Lights from underneath made the entire space dance with refracted blue light.
Sam had cranked the volume to hear over the waterfall. They’d just played the alien radio message, and the aliens seemed pissed. He was trying his best to not be freaked out about that, about Nico showing up any minute, about everything. The news wasn’t helping, but Sam didn’t know what else to do.
The newscaster was saying, “Picked up by the Deep Space Network, that recycled audio of human voices previously broadcast into space—sent back to us as a message—is fueling public speculation that a fleet of alien ships may be heading toward us.”
The image cut to a panicked marine, pointing up to the sky and getting much too close to the camera operator.
“What’s to say this ship is just scouts?
Reconnaissance? And then they follow up with marines…
alien marines!” Like he was ready to fight the first one that dared land on Earth, the panicked marine screamed right in the lens as he rushed the camera, “I’m a marine too, motherfu—”
The video lurched wildly as the feed cut off and the image returned to the news studio. “Jesus. Can we check Martino is okay?” the newscaster asked.
“You’re back,” someone said.
The newscaster bit back a curse and then focused on the camera. “Next we’re going to breaking news from the Norwegian island of Spitsbergen in the Arctic Ocean. Our reporter Alisha Whitney is on the scene.”
Against the waterfall, Alisha’s image was eight feet tall from her waist to her pixie cut.
Behind her, dozens of soldiers in light-blue helmets were setting up a military barricade.
About a football field behind them, a thin five-story concrete building jutted out against the sky, like a knife hilt stuck into the rocky slope.
“We’re here at the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, where United Nations troops have arrived to provide an extra level of protection against any extraterrestrial threat.
Through that doorway you see behind me”—Alisha gestured to the concrete knife hilt—“130 meters inside that mountain, are more than 1.3 million seed samples, an insurance policy for our world’s most precious resource: humanity’s food supply. ”
A rap on the suite door.
Sam nearly knocked the remote into the nearest channel of water in his rush to grab it. He turned the TV off, took a shaky breath to steady his nerves, and then forced himself to walk and not run to open the door.
Nico!
He just stood there. Looking adorable. Exhausted. And so, so sexy.
Why is he just standing there?
“Come in!” Sam was nervous. He wanted to hug Nico. Kiss him. But things felt off.
Nico walked in, fingers tapping against his leg in a disco beat, one finger on every pulse of the four count, another on one and three, and a third finger on just the third beat. Sam wished he’d brought his ukulele. Playing it would have made him less nervous.
Sam shut the door behind them and took Nico’s hand in his own. “Hey, you. It’s good to see you.”
Nico did that half smile that made Sam’s heart melt, and he stared at their hands. “You look good. I… I need a shower.”
“No.” Sam tried to explain. “I don’t mean… I mean, you do, but what I meant was…” Sam sighed. This shouldn’t be hard. They weren’t on the phone. Nico was right here.
Savta was right. If he didn’t say what he felt, if he didn’t make his needs known, how was Nico supposed to know?
Sam put a hand to Nico’s stubbly cheek. “I really missed you for Valentine’s Day. I was all excited to finally spend that holiday with someone I love, and you… pretty much ghosted me.”
“I…” Nico looked abashed, and then like he understood something he hadn’t before. “Oh! I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was such a big deal for you.”
“You haven’t had a valentine before, have you?” Sam asked.
Nico shook his head no.
“Me neither,” Sam admitted. The cards from his savta every year definitely didn’t count. “That’s why I wanted us to be together so bad.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Nico said.
And it occurred to Sam that he hadn’t told Nico it was important to him. So being pissy about it maybe wasn’t fair. “But you didn’t know,” Sam said, and some of the anger drained away.
Nico looked him in the eyes. “I promise I won’t miss it again.”
“For the record, birthdays are important to me too,” Sam said.
“Noted,” Nico said, his eyes twinkling.
“And Christmas, and Chanukah, and New Year’s,” Sam added.
“Got it. You like your holidays.” Nico’s smile was full now.
“I like our holidays.” Sam took a breath and plunged into the other things he needed to say. “And I’m sorry I’ve been badgering you about finishing high school, and all the travel for your job, and maybe I haven’t been the best listener—”
Nico put a finger across Sam’s lips. He strode over to the wet bar and took the empty plastic bag from the insulated ice bucket. He headed back over to Sam as he pulled his own cell phone out of his pocket and dropped it in the bag. He held the bag open for Sam to do likewise.
Sam’s two phones went in next to Nico’s.
Nico tied the bag with a knot and submerged the whole thing underwater, just a foot off of where the water pounded into the waterfall’s base. Sam thought that as long as the bag held, the whole thing was pretty clever.
“So we’re good now?” Sam whispered, even though he probably didn’t need to.
Nico leaned in and his lips brushed Sam’s lips—light and teasing. His tongue grazed Sam’s tongue—spicy and sweet, like he had been eating crystalized ginger.
Nico’s hair felt stiff with product but also kind of grainy as Sam pulled Nico’s mouth closer to him. So he could kiss him deeper. More fully. So he could lose himself inside the musky gloriousness of this incredibly hot man.
Sam tugged Nico’s jacket off his shoulders, then started on the buttons of his white button-down, which fell to the floor next.
They kept kissing, Nico’s stubble flinting sparks deep inside Sam.
Smiling under the intensity of their kiss, Nico pulled up Sam’s indigo Henley and his cool fingertips brushed the skin under Sam’s waistband. It made Sam shiver with thoughts of everything he wanted to do. That they were about to do!
Sam broke their kiss for a fast second to yank his own shirt off and toss it.
Chest on chest, skin against skin, heart to heart felt like they were building a fire between them. Sam licked Nico’s neck, below his stubble. Sweat. Salt. Like he’d gone for a swim in the ocean and then never rinsed off.
His tongue slid across Nico’s solid pecs. Down his crazy-defined abs.
“Huh-huh!” Nico inhaled sharply and Sam felt this surge of power. He could make Nico feel amazing! More , a feeling deep inside Sam demanded. More .
Sam traced a path from Nico’s belly button to the top of his moss-green khakis, which must be some uniform for his barista job, because Sam hadn’t known Nico to be a white button-down shirt and khakis kind of guy.
Sam pushed the distracting thought away. He pulled the fabric at Nico’s waist together to free the hook from the bar. Sam found the pant’s zipper pull, but Nico’s hands grabbed his.
“I really need a shower,” Nico said.
“I got you,” Sam assured him, standing back up so they were face to face. Lips to lips. Tongue to tongue. One tug and Nico’s pants fell to his ankles, like it was following Sam’s orders. Nico sighed into Sam’s mouth pressed hard against his, and it was the best sound Sam could imagine.
“I missed this,” Nico breathed.
“Come on.” Sam kicked off his own shoes and pants, and Nico did likewise. Leaving a trail of clothes in their wake, Sam pulled Nico to the elaborate walk-in shower.
Steamy hot water streamed at them from rainfall and massage showerheads above and on every side. Sam had figured out how to turn them all on, just in case things went to plan… And this was the plan.
Nico reached for the soap, but Sam stopped him. “Let me.”
Sam filled his palm with pumps of the grapefruit-scented body wash and took Nico’s right hand in his left.
He spread the soap across the gritty skin of Nico’s forearm and the coarse brown hairs on the outside part, rubbing it in and over.
He rinsed, then grabbed the loofah disc and more body wash, working up a lather, then rinsed again.
The second time left the area clean and smooth and very kissable.
Like Nico is some perfect sculpture and I’m a very gay art restorer.
Ugh. That metaphor made Sam think of his dad.
Focus, Solomon. Take your time. Let him know how you feel about him.
Sam washed his way down Nico’s beautiful body.
Arms, shoulders, back, legs. He moved to Nico’s front, raising one foot at a time to clean Nico’s feet, which weren’t ticklish at all.
Eyes gently closed, Nico held on to Sam’s shoulders for balance.
It made Sam feel solid. Like he was a rock Nico could count on.
Slowly Sam worked his way up and... they both got distracted.
Nico yanked Sam all the way up. With a sexy half smile he uncapped the whole container of body wash and poured it down their fronts. Nico pulled Sam into him and turned the friction between them into a sudsy, slippery fantasy where their bodies moved together in a building rhythm.
Sam felt himself getting close—much too soon—but it was an almost perfect moment and he had I love you on his tongue but held it, unsaid.
What if I say it and Nico doesn’t say it back?
What if Nico doesn’t feel the way I do?
What if he’ll suddenly see me as so needy he’ll be turned off?
He’ll just leave, right now in the middle of this, and go downstairs and hook up with someone hotter, who doesn’t need so much. Hot Australian Tank Top Guy. Or the whole cast. Or just anyone who isn’t me.