by Riley Knight
“So what about you? Why are you here?”
It was a panicked question, meant as little more than a distraction, but as he said them, Gunner realized that he really was curious. Sam was not only so smart that it sort of staggered Gunner, but he had an almost tangible distaste for everyone and everything in this little town. He was the sort of guy who would do well in a big city, where he could talk to other intellectuals about how superior they were to the rest of the unwashed masses.
Or maybe that wasn’t fair. Still, Sam’s unhappiness was something that surrounded him like a cloud. It came off as rudeness or coldness, but as Gunner got closer to him, he was starting to not fall for that quite as much.
“You mean here? At the bar? Or in Texas?” Sam prompted, and Gunner shrugged. Either, really.
“However you want to take it.”
Gunner would listen to anything, really. Why Sam was so deeply closeted but came to a gay bar often enough that people noticed when he walked in. That was a good question, too.
“I come to the bar because it’s the only bar around, and because my brother works there,” Sam said, his voice tense, like that was a subject that Gunner really didn’t want to get into with him. Gunner held his tongue, sure that there was more to the story, but did it really need to be said? One of the first things he’d noticed about Sam was how closeted he was.
“And why are you still in Texas?” Gunner prompted, and Sam sighed and rubbed at his temples. The poor kid had drunk quite a bit, Gunner had noticed, and it seemed to be catching up to him.
“Because I got kicked out of Harvard.”
Whatever Gunner might have expected, it wasn’t that. Mr. Perfect, the boy genius himself, getting kicked out of school? He would have thought, well, pretty much anything but that. For the moon to fall, or the sun to rise in the west and set in the east.
“What?” Gunner asked, feeling a bit stupid, but his genuine surprise came out. Sam turned to shoot him a wry little smile and shrugged, like he found it hard to believe, too.
“I got in with a full scholarship. Joined a fraternity, because that’s what you’re supposed to do,” Sam spoke in the tone of one confessing, and Gunner settled down to do some listening. He could tell when someone needed to get something off their chest, and that applied to Sam more than anyone else he’d ever met, maybe.
“I started partying, I guess. All through high school, I didn’t really have to try too hard, you know?” Gunner didn’t know, but he gave a little nod, more to ask Sam to continue than anything else. “There was this guy in the same frat, Caleb. We started to hang out a lot, more than either of us did the school thing.”
Oh. All of a sudden that made much more sense. Sam had developed a crush on this Caleb, that was clear by how he spoke about him. Probably neither of them had ever acted on it, in fact, Gunner knew that they hadn’t since Sam had come to him as a virgin.
It just made him surer than ever that Sam wasn’t straight. Not that he’d needed a lot more convincing on that particular front.
“I got kicked out. So did he. Last I heard …” Sam’s recitation ceased for a moment as he gathered his thoughts and rested his cheek against Gunner’s head. “Last I heard, he got married. He invited me to the wedding, but I didn’t go …”
As he spoke, his voice got more and more indistinct. How much had the guy drunk, anyway? Not more than Gunner, he was pretty sure, but it seemed like Sam didn’t have much of a tolerance. Then again, he was so young, only legally allowed to drink for a short time.
“Maybe he had the right idea,” Gunner murmured. Give up fancy, expensive school and settle down with someone, to Gunner, to part of him, at least, the part that wasn’t scared, the part that wasn’t running, that felt pretty much like heaven. Sam was passing out, anyway, so it was safe for him to say that.
“Mmm,” Sam murmured, and Gunner laughed softly and rose to his feet, supporting Sam on the way up.
“Okay, come here, sleepy,” he teased and slid his fingers into the pocket of Sam’s jeans. Snagging the cool metal ring of Sam’s keys, he drew them out and helped Sam down the rest of the stairs.
All of a sudden, it was impossible for Gunner to avoid feeling a bit tender toward Sam, who was so sleepy as he clung to Gunner. He aroused not only Gunner’s body but also his desire to take care of him.
It had just been so long since he’d had anyone to take care of. Gunner had kept himself so busy, and he told himself that he didn’t remember that sort of thing, or want it, anymore, but part of him obviously did.
“We can go back in,” Sam murmured, but he didn’t protest more than that as Gunner led him to Sam’s car. Gently, Gunner guided him into the passenger’s side, then went around to slip behind the wheel.
As he looked briefly back at the bar, he saw that Ben was there, looking at him, though Gunner couldn’t read the look on his face, backlit as Ben was. He raised his hand in farewell, hoping that Ben knew that Gunner would take care of his little brother, that he didn’t have to worry.
It was impossible to say what Ben thought, with his face in that thick, impenetrable shadow, but he did raise his hand in return. Gunner took that as a good sign, and when Sam slumped over in his seat, he tugged him closer and let the younger man rest against him.
The whole way home, they were silent. Gunner clicked off the radio, and Sam was half asleep, only the sound of his breathing, slow and steady, filled the car. But it seemed to Gunner that the things that they had said, the secrets they’d shared with each other, filled up the space between them and made it warmer.
At the farmhouse, the lights were all off. The inhabitants slept, and Gunner turned to look at Sam, shaking him to try to rouse him. Long, dark eyelashes flicked open, showing a mere gleam of jade green, but that was about it.
“Babe, we’re home,” Gunner tried again, but Sam still barely responded. Smiling a little, Gunner made a decision. One that was maybe just a little bit selfish, but honestly, he thought it was really the only option.
If he took Sam into the house, the man would stumble around, knocking things over, and he was too big for Gunner to keep him from doing so. Poor Ruby would be woken up, and there would have to be an awkward talk about why her adored big brother figure was shitfaced.
So Gunner got out of the car, walking through the smooth, cool night, the air finally starting to release the heat of the day, though it clung still to the baked, hard ground. Carefully, he opened the car and reached out, doing his best to ease Sam out.
“You’re too big for me to carry you out of there,” Gunner murmured. “You’re going to have to help me out here.”
He wasn’t sure that Sam was listening, or that he was even able to. Not until he felt the other man’s arm around his shoulder, then felt Sam’s weight on him. Staggering only a little, Gunner helped him out, then let him lean on him as he led him across the yard.
Gunner had been given a little converted barn. It wasn’t much, but it was all his, and it was going to be safer to let Sam sleep here than to try to get the poor, drunk man into his own bed.
Of course, the fact that it had been ages since anyone had shared Gunner’s bed, and that he’d almost forgotten what it was like to have arms wrapped around him in the night, might have had something to do with it. Call it a win/win situation.
Slowly, muscles straining, Gunner eased his sleepy young man down into the bed. What was Sam to him, anyway? Friends with benefits? Lover?
Boyfriend?
The idea wasn’t as terrifying as it should be. It wasn’t like Gunner had very good experiences with boyfriends, but Sam was a very different sort of person than Chad was. Somehow, Gunner knew that Sam wouldn’t ever pull the same shit than his ex had.
What a freeing thought, that he could actually be safe with this person, who he was coming to care about far too quickly. With great care and attention, Gunner tugged Sam’s clothes off, leaving him in his underwear, then tucked him under the light, smooth cotton sheet that was all that he would need
on a night as warm as this was.
Sticky and damp, Gunner slid out of his own clothes with a soft sigh of relief. The cooling air kissed his skin, and he realized just how exhausted he was, all the way down to his bones.
It was nice to lie down, the soft mattress accepting him in, yielding to his weight. It was even nicer to have Sam lying there, snoring softly, but even in his sleep rolling to wrap his arms around Gunner.
They settled into it like they were born to do this. Sam’s big, tall body wrapped around Gunner, cradling him from behind. Someone like Gunner, stocky and muscular, rarely got to be held like this, and they fit together like it was meant to be.
So he would let this be enough, for now. Sam’s sleepy body offered him comfort like he’d never felt before, and he relaxed into it, ready to drift off to sleep himself.
“Hey, Gunner?” Sam’s voice was a soft, sleepy growl, and Gunner shook his head ruefully, amused with himself. It took so little for Sam to get him going. Even now, when he knew Sam was too drunk, that voice could make him hard.
“Yeah, babe?” Gunner replied, and he felt Sam’s arm slip around his waist, one hand on Gunner’s stomach, stroking the skin there lightly. None of which helped with the arousal which Sam could so easily bring to the forefront of Gunner’s mind.
“How did you end up with someone like that? Someone who would stalk you for breaking up with them?”
Gunner sighed softly, closing his eyes. He should have known that someone like Sam would be too curious just to leave that alone, to be satisfied with what Gunner had already told him. It seemed like he was going to need to share a little bit more.
“My parents kicked me out when I was seventeen. He took me in. Protected me, for a while.” And please, please, Gunner prayed to anyone who was listening, let that be enough. Let Sam be too tired and drunk to push any further.
“Oh,” Sam said, apparently considering that. “Well, I still think he’s a dick.”
Which sort of summed the situation up perfectly, Gunner had to admit. To his relief, that did seem to be enough for Sam, who pressed against him from behind, his chest to Gunner’s back. The arm draped over Gunner relaxed and became heavy, but never, not even for a moment, did Gunner consider trying to escape.
It felt too good. Like coming home, which was not a thought that he’d ever really had, not since he’d had to leave his childhood home because his parents couldn’t handle his sexuality. He knew that it wasn’t a safe thought to have, not when he and Sam couldn’t be anything more than whatever they were now, but it was a good thought to have anyway.
Maybe he didn’t have to worry about it as much as he was. Maybe, just maybe, he could allow himself to feel these things. Could he let this thing with Sam be what he wanted it to be? Was that possible?
For a moment, he didn’t even dare to breathe. The enormity of what he was thinking rolled through him, staggering him, making him glad that he was lying down because otherwise, he might just fall over.
What if he stayed?
He had a job here, and a place to live. Ben and Isaac would surely be willing to rent out this place to him. And he had this thing with Sam, this thing which was almost, but not quite, something very serious. Or that’s how it seemed to Gunner, anyway.
It was like the thought broke down something inside of him, some sort of wall that he hadn’t even known he had up. The very rightness of it overwhelmed him, brought a smile to his face, and stayed with him even as he drifted off to sleep in Sam’s arms.
THIRTEEN
The first thing that Sam became aware of was his head, which was pounding like some manic drummer was inside of his head, beating on his pain centers like it was going out of style. His mouth was dry and tasted like whiskey, and someone must have snuck in while he slept and attached cement to his arms and legs because he was pretty sure he couldn’t move.
“Sammy?” The voice that spoke his name was unmistakable, even thick with sleep as it was. There was a man in his arms, a warm, familiar man who turned to face him and gave him a sleepy, beautiful little smile as their eyes met.
“Hey, Gunner,” Sam murmured back and then frowned as he looked around. “Wait, Gunner? Where am I?”
Groaning, Sam rubbed his head, which hadn’t stopped throbbing from the moment he’d first opened his sticky, gummy eyes. What did he remember? The last thing was chatting with Gunner, and then, things got embarrassing.
Sam was a grown man, and it wasn’t fun to think that he was the sort of person who thought he needed to be taken care of. He’d been so nervous, and he’d ended up drinking far more than he usually did, spurred on by those nerves but also by the fun that he’d been having with Gunner.
Though he spent a lot of time at the bar, he mostly spent it nursing a beer or two. He pretty much never got into shots, and his body was letting him know in no uncertain terms that it didn’t approve.
Still, it really didn’t suck to wake up next to Gunner, who had taken care of him the night before. Yeah, that was a little bit humiliating, but it was actually pretty easy to get past that when he got to look into sleepy, beautiful hazel eyes and feel a strong body rest against his.
“Never mind,” Sam murmured, then leaned in and, pounding head or not, laid his lips lightly against Gunner’s. Maybe Sam wasn’t at his best, with his hair a mess and his mouth still tasting of whiskey, but he still found Gunner waiting for him, returning the pressure of Sam’s lips.
When the kiss ended, Sam allowed himself to just look at the other man. The man who had taken care of him, though he totally could have dumped Sam off with Ben, if he’d wanted to. The man who was smiling at him now, and who didn’t seem to hold any of his weakness of the night before against him.
How had he not seen immediately how perfect Gunner was? Gorgeous, yes, but there was more to him than just his looks. There was a heart in there that even the gruffest, most obnoxious exterior couldn’t cover up. Not for long, not once you spent time with him.
“What’s up?” Gunner asked, and Sam frowned. He’d been staring, hadn’t he? That had to be a bit unnerving, and it would probably freak Gunner right the hell out if he knew just what Sam had been thinking about.
Then again, maybe that would be a good thing. Scare Gunner right off, have him end this so that Sam didn’t have to.
“I was just thinking,” Sam spoke carefully, looking right into Gunner’s eyes, “That it didn’t exactly suck to wake up with you here this morning.”
For some reason, that made Gunner smile, made his eyes light up, as they lay there in each other’s arms. Sam reached out, touching the angles and planes of Gunner’s face, tracing over the skin and feeling the slight roughness of the stubble which had grown overnight.
“Oh yeah?” Gunner asked, and Sam frowned, confused by his tone. It seemed almost over the top in how casual it was, but seconds later, he forgot all about that. “So how would you feel if I decided to stay in town? Would that suck?”
For a moment, the words stubbornly refused to make any sense. Sam knew that he knew each and every single one of them, but strung together the way they were, and he was sure he must be hearing him wrong. Misunderstanding. There was no way in hell that Gunner could possibly mean what it sounded like he meant.
“…What?” Sam finally managed, and Gunner gave him a guilty little smile that fast resolved itself into a confident smirk. It was an expression that Gunner pulled on, Sam was realizing, whenever he felt like he needed to protect himself. He pulled it on like Sam pulled on an air of intellectual superiority.
Different ways of hiding, but both of them were going for the same thing.
“Never mind. I was just joking. It’s a dumb idea anyway, right?” Gunner’s voice was defensive, and a sort of wall seemed to drop behind his eyes. It sort of broke Sam’s heart to see, though he wasn’t quite sure why he cared so much.
Unless he really did want to be with this man. Give it a try. Who knows? Crazier things had worked out, and Sam’s main objection would have alwa
ys been that he was straight. He was starting to think that might not exactly carry a lot of water anymore.
“It’s not a dumb idea,” Sam admitted, giving the other man a little bit of a smile. “If you stay, do you want us to …” His voice trailed off, and he just had to hope that Gunner knew what he was trying to say.
“Be together?” Gunner finished, and Sam nodded gratefully. He’d come a long way, but it was still strange to think about openly talking about being with another man. It would take some getting used to, maybe.
“Yeah. Is that what you want?” Sam asked, just a little bit cautious. He had to know what was being asked for before he could know if he wanted to give it or not, he figured. It just made sense.
“Yeah. If I stay, I’d like us to see where things go,” Gunner admitted, and Sam felt a clenching in his stomach that wasn’t painful but was intense.
“Can I think about it?” Oddly, Sam’s first reaction was to agree, to go for it, even though the only reason that he’d been okay with this at all was that it was temporary. He had known that Gunner would move on and this could all just fade into the ether, a weird thing that had happened once but which didn’t really have that much effect on his life.
It was then that he came face to face with the facts. He’d changed. He hadn’t meant to, and he would have fought against it with all of his strength if he had recognized it before, but now, it felt like it was too late. It felt like even if he tried to back away, he couldn’t do it, because he’d learned just how good it was, how irresistible Gunner was.
Still, to commit to something like a relationship? Sam’s mind whirled around dizzily with the implications. People had already seen them in public, and Sam knew that, in his drunken state, he had been all over Gunner. Still, people would forget, and probably pretty quickly.
“Yeah. Of course.” Was that a hint of disappointment in Gunner’s eyes? Sam thought so, but Gunner at least was giving him the time that he asked for and not pressuring him. Which was just one more thing that made it more tempting than ever just to close his eyes and jump off the cliff.
