by Aislin, Amy
“That’s some smile you’re wearing.” His mom leaned her forearms next to him on the corral and nodded at Bo. “Your man’s a quiet one.”
“Not usually,” Sam said, acknowledging without words that Bo had been unusually quiet earlier. “He hasn’t talked about it, but I get the impression that he doesn’t have a really good relationship with his family. I think ours threw him for a loop.”
He and his mom watched Bo run his fingers through Jelly’s mane. When his fingers snagged on a particularly huge knot, he frowned and crossed to a bucket in the grass on the other side of the corral, picking through it until he found what he was looking for. He walked back to Jelly with a brush designed for manes and tails.
“He had a pretty crap morning,” Sam said to his mom. He spoke quietly so his words didn’t carry to Bo. “I had a feeling the horses would cheer him up.”
“I think his good mood has less to do with the horses and more to do with you, hun.”
Her words made him smile.
Bo used the brush to untangle Jelly’s knot. Without bothering to brush out the rest of the mane, he returned the brush to the bucket.
“Your man knows a thing or two about horses,” his mom observed.
“He lived and worked on a horse farm for a while when he was younger,” Sam said.
His mom made a “Hmm” sound. Sam knew that sound. It was the sound his mom made when she had an idea percolating in her head.
“What?” he asked, wary.
“Nothing,” she said. “You bringing Bo for dinner tomorrow night?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“Bring him. It’ll do him some good, I think.”
Jesus, even his mom could tell Bo was lonely as hell.
She tipped her head in the direction of the field at the back of the property, where a group of riders emerged from the tree line. “Your dad’s coming back with the riders. Lunch’ll be ready in about ten minutes. Once the guests are gone and the horses settled, grab him and come eat, okay?”
She was gone before Sam could respond. Bo walked over and sat on the railing next to him.
“How many horses do your parents have?” he asked.
“About a dozen,” Sam said. He counted six riders behind his dad, and with the two in the corral, it meant the other three were in the stable.
“Does he need any help getting them settled?” Bo sounded eager to spend more time with the horses.
A couple of his parents’ stable hands came out of the stable. Sam gestured to them. “No, he’s good. My parents always have a few stable hands to help out with the smaller day-to-day stuff. Usually students in the equine management or animal biology programs at the University of Guelph.”
“Equine management?” Bo sat straighter on the railing.
“Mm hmm.” Sam eyed Bo closely while running a hand up and down his calf. His bare skin was sun-warmed against Sam’s hand. “It was Taylor’s major, too.”
Bo might still be trying to figure out what he wanted to do with his life, but to Sam it was blatantly obvious: The man was happiest around animals. He’d mentioned this morning that he didn’t want to run a rehab center like Big Sky because he didn’t like saying goodbye to the animals. That was understandable. Yet the way he’d talked about living on a horse farm when he was younger, the way he lit up while talking to Jelly and Moby, how he’d come to attention when Sam had mentioned equine management… How did Bo not see it?
Sam pushed off from the railing and stood in front of Bo. Bo widened his legs and Sam stepped between them. Placing his hands on the railing on either side of Bo, Sam leaned right into Bo’s personal space. Sitting on the railing like this put Bo at Sam’s height. Bo was smiling at him, hands around Sam’s shoulders.
Bo’s eyes were dark pools of warmth, and even though he squinted against the sun, Sam could see the gold flecks in them.
“You’re okay,” Sam concluded.
Bo nodded. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He pulled Sam into hug. “Thank you,” he said against Sam’s neck.
Sam placed a small kiss on the side of Bo’s neck before pulling back. “Come on,” he said. He took the sunglasses off Bo’s head and gently placed them over his eyes. “You ready for lunch?”
Bo smiled at him. “I’m ready.”
Chapter Seven
Bonobo: Are you still alive? Should I send out a search party?
S.P. McAuley: Sorry! Been super busy lately.
Bonobo: Don’t worry about it. So have I :)
S.P. McAuley: Yeah? Anything to do with the I-don’t-know-if-he’s-gay guy you told me about a couple weeks ago?
Bonobo: [sends blushing-emoji] He’s my boyfriend now :)
S.P. McAuley: Good for you! Coincidentally, I also have a new boyfriend.
Bonobo: [sends gif of clinking beer glasses] Here’s to us!
S.P. McAuley: LOL
Bonobo: I was just messaging to say the new chapter was brilliant!!!! When’s the next one coming out?
S.P. McAuley: So demanding.
Bonobo: Hey, I’ve seen your Tumblr page. I know I’m not the only one asking.
S.P. McAuley: True.
Bonobo: I noticed you didn’t answer any of them.
S.P. McAuley: Also true.
Bonobo: Will you answer me?
S.P. McAuley: …You’re sworn to secrecy.
Bonobo: I won’t say anything! Cross my heart. (You can’t see me, but I’m crossing my heart.)
S.P. McAuley: LOL the new SCENE (not chapter) will be posted in mid-July.
Bonobo: Ugh. Three weeks away? I hate you.
S.P. McAuley: fjkafnafnaiofjaeoamjfniqopmdnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
Bonobo: Um…are you okay? I didn’t mean it, you know. I could never hate the author of my favorite web comic.
S.P. McAuley: Shit, sorry. I dropped my phone and my cat pounced on it.
Bonobo: Awww, you have a cat?
S.P. McAuley: Yup. A little three-legged thing named Tripaw. I named the cat in Scythe and Swords after him :)
Bonobo: You have a three-legged cat…named TRIPAW?
S.P. McAuley: Yes? Like tripod. Because he has three legs.
Bonobo: No, I get it. Just…my new boyfriend has a three-legged cat named Tripaw. And he gave the same explanation for the name.
Bonobo: Sam?
S.P. McAuley: …Bo?
§§§§
“You must’ve thought I was such an idiot when I gave you my comics to read a couple weeks ago,” Bo said. “Going on and on about how awesome Scythe and Swords is.”
Bo was still a little bit shocked that Sam was the author of his favorite web comic, something Bo had only found out while chatting with S.P. McAuley this morning on Tumblr.
S.P. McAuley was Sam. Weird.
“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Bo.” Sam rubbed his hand up and down Bo’s arm.
Thunder boomed outside and rain lashed the windows. Bo ignored the movie playing on TV and rolled over on the couch to face Sam.
“Knowing you’re S.P. McAuley just makes you that much hotter,” he said, making Sam laugh.
They’d had plans for a hike today, but the rain had washed that idea away. Instead, after Bo had finished demanding answers from Sam, they’d headed back to Bo’s to curl up on the couch and watch movies.
After Sam’s last message had come through, Bo had marched outside, rain be damned, through the hedges dividing their driveways, into Sam’s backyard, and through his unlocked kitchen door, as had become their habit in the past couple of weeks. He’d found Sam in his office on the second floor, staring dumbly down at his cell phone.
“You have some explaining to do.”
Sam had the decency to look embarrassed.
“How could you not tell me? You know I love Scythe and Swords. I’ve been going on about it for weeks. Hell, you let me talk your ear off about it last week, and then we had that debate about who was cuter, James or Elliot.”
“Um…”
Sam stood with his shoulders hunch
ed, looking so miserable that Bo felt his ire cool.
“I wanted to tell you,” Sam said. “But I…” He leaned back against his desk and scratched his forehead. “I dated a guy last year for a few weeks. When he told me he was into Scythe and Swords I told him I was the author. That it was mine. And he accused me of bragging about it.” Sam sighed deeply. “It just stuck with me. I didn’t want you to think I was tooting my own horn or something.”
Bo’s ire came back with a fucking vengeance. “Fuck that guy!” Sam jumped at his outburst. “Scythe and Swords is fucking awesome, and you should brag about it. Anyone who tells you differently is just a giant fucking douche doughnut.”
Sam snorted a laugh.
“Fuck anyone who makes you feel like dirt,” Bo said. “Now, come on.” He turned and headed downstairs.
“Where are you going?” Sam asked, following behind Bo.
“We are going back to my place, where we’re going to veg on the couch all day watching movies.” Bo slipped into his damp shoes. “At some point we’ll eat too.” He eyed the rain still falling from the thunderous sky, then at his own rain splattered T-shirt and shorts. He looked at Sam: pressed jeans, blue polo shirt, styled hair. “Got an umbrella?”
Two hours later, the rain hadn’t let up, and the credits to the first movie they’d watched played on TV. Bo tucked his head in Sam’s neck, closed his eyes, and contemplated a nap.
“Is your name actually Bonobo?” Sam asked.
Bo snorted. “No. It’s a stupid nickname my family’s been calling me since I was a kid.” He hated it even as he loved it. Wasn’t that fucked up? “What’s the p in S.P. stand for?”
“Paul,” Sam said. “It’s my middle name. My dad’s name.” Bo felt Sam kiss his temple. “Are you taking a nap?”
“I was thinking about it,” Bo said.
“Go ahead.” Sam shifted and got up from the couch. “I’m going to make myself a snack.”
Bo didn’t know how long he’d been asleep for—or if he’d even fallen asleep yet—when his cell phone rang. He rolled over on the couch and grabbed it from the coffee table. The name on the call display made him curse.
Are you even fucking kidding me, right now?
Eight weeks he’d been here and Laura still called three times a day.
He answered with a super-friendly (read: super-annoyed) “What?” in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t in the mood.
“Hey, Bonobo!” Laura said in a tone that made it clear she either didn’t care or didn’t notice (likely the former) that he wasn’t in the mood. “How’s my place?”
Bo fed Laura his standard line between gritted teeth. “Still standing.”
“Great! We’re going on a field trip today so I’ve gotta go. I was just calling to check in. Talk to you later.” She hung up.
How could a twenty-second conversation make Bo’s blood boil so badly?
Sam walked into the room with a plate of cheese, crackers, and sliced fruit. “Laura?” he asked, sitting at Bo’s feet. Sam was now well-versed on The Many Check-In Phone Calls From Laura. “Maybe don’t answer next time?”
Bo huffed an unamused laugh. “I really think she’d call the cops and report me missing if I didn’t answer.” Not out of concern for him, oh no. It’d be out of worry that nobody was around to look after Big Sky.
Sam placed a slice of cheese on a cracker with deliberate care and handed it to Bo.
“What?” Bo asked before taking a bite of his snack.
“What?” Sam said.
Bo poked him in the thigh with his toe. “You have something to say, just say it.”
“I was just wondering…” Sam paused as if searching for words and placed his plate on the coffee table. “You’re doing her a huge favor by coming here and running this place while she’s away. Yet she treats you like… I just… She doesn’t appreciate you and… Is she always like this? Why do you put up with it?”
“That’s…” a complicated answer, Bo wanted to say, but it was too much of a non-answer and Sam deserved more. He deserved the part of Bo that Bo hated, the part Bo never wanted to share with him. His feelings for Sam were so deep, and he had a feeling Sam felt the same way about him. He was afraid his shit past would make Sam look at him differently.
Bo sat up, tucking a leg underneath him so that he faced Sam, and snagged a slice of apple off Sam’s plate. “You asked me a couple of weeks ago what made my stay at the horse farm in Saskatchewan not great,” he reminded Sam. “It was not great because my parents are lazy pot-heads who never take responsibility seriously.” He bit into the apple and chewed slowly, giving him a chance to think. “They never did the work they were supposed to at the farm, so I did it for them between homework and my own responsibilities. I was so desperate to stay there, I would’ve covered for them for as long as I had to. But eventually the owners found out and sent us packing. I cried for days.”
Sam’s hand landed on Bo’s knee. Bo traced his wrist with a thumb and didn’t look him in the eye. “So we left. And we went…somewhere else. I can’t remember where. Because for as long as I can remember, we were constantly moving from one job, one town, to the next. Always moving. Always running from angry business owners and pissed off landlords when we couldn’t pay rent. I never had a real home or real friends until I moved to Ottawa for university.” Those friends hadn’t gotten in touch with him in weeks, so he was now, as he always had been, friendless.
His eyes prickled, but he blinked the wetness away. “Instead of helping me or supporting me when I couldn’t decide on a major, Laura started calling me a flake, comparing me to our parents. Saying that I was just as indecisive as them. The thing is they’re not indecisive. They’re shitty parents who care only about themselves and their next high.”
“Where are they now?” Sam asked.
Bo still couldn’t look at him. “I don’t know. They haven’t gotten in touch since…October? I don’t care. I stopped keeping track of them a long time ago. I’ve known since I was a kid that I’d be better off without their poison.”
Sam cupped both hands around Bo’s neck and brought his head up, forcing Bo to meet his eyes. Sam’s were warm and understanding, and Bo might’ve detected a little bit of protectiveness there, too. A suspicion that was confirmed when Sam spoke. “Bo, the way Laura treats you? That’s poison, too.”
The words were hard to hear and brought the sting back to Bo’s eyes. “No, but you see, she wasn’t always like this. We were really close as kids. We had to be, you know? We only had each other. But then she went to university and she became…cold and distant and judgmental, almost like I wasn’t worthy of being her brother anymore. Something in her changed, or something changed her. And I just want to prove to her that I’m not like our parents. I don’t smoke or do drugs and I barely ever drink. I want her to see who I am, not who she thinks I am. Just because I’m indecisive doesn’t mean I’m unreliable.”
Sam sighed deeply. “That’s why you came here.”
“I want her to know she can count on me.”
“In the four years Laura’s had this place, how many times have you run things for her while she’s on vacation?” Sam asked.
“Maybe six or so. And I get what you’re saying: If she hasn’t seen by now that I’m reliable, how is this time any different? I’m here for four months this time when before it was only for a week or two. Maybe now she’ll see.” It was a long shot but it was all he had. He wanted his relationship with his sister back, but that wouldn’t happen if she couldn’t see past her own judgy-ness. “I’m the only one she asks to cover for her here, so she must trust me to some degree, right?”
“Come here.” Sam pulled on Bo’s hand until Bo moved, straddling his lap. He wrapped Bo in a hug and Bo buried his head in Sam’s neck, inhaling his scent. “I’m sorry your parents suck.”
Bo huffed a quiet laugh despite everything. “Thanks.”
“Bo, I…”
“What?” Bo pulled back with a slight smile and looked
at Sam. “Something else you think I need to hear?”
Sam frowned. “I’m just looking out for you.”
“I know.” Bo’s heart squeezed. He could take care of himself, but it was nice having someone in his corner for once. “I know you are. You’re the only person who does.”
“Because I love you.”
Bo froze, the hands he’d been running along Sam’s shoulders coming to a complete stop. Had he misheard?
Sam’s hands gripped Bo’s upper thighs and his eyes went uncertain. “Sorry if it’s too early to say that but you deserve to know how I feel about you. You’re so special, Bo. You deserve someone who’s yours, and I want to be that person.”
The tears Bo had been fighting during their conversation overflowed and spilled down his cheeks even as he laughed his delight.
“I love you, too,” he said, and kissed the corner of Sam’s mouth. He felt that mouth curve against his.
“Yeah?”
“Of course. How could I not? You’re pretty perfect.”
Sam snorted. “Are you conveniently forgetting the month where I took my anger over being sued out on you?”
“Yes, actually.” Bo sniffled and swallowed his tears. “And I know you’re not perfect perfect. But you’re perfect for me.”
Before Sam could say anything else, Bo slanted his lips over his. Mouths open, tongues tangling, Bo felt Sam’s hands clench his ass. Sam’s dick stiffened in his shorts and rubbed against Bo’s stomach.
Bo wrapped his legs around Sam’s waist when Sam stood.
“Where are we going?” he asked, planting little kisses along Sam’s cheeks.
“Upstairs,” Sam said, breathing unsteady.
“But I’m not tired anymore,” Bo teased. “I don’t need a nap.”
Sam made a sound deep in his throat that may have been a laugh or a groan. “Not for that kind of activity.”
Bo landed on his back on the bed, Sam hovering over him with a wicked grin that curled Bo’s toes and made heat pool in his groin. Their mouths continued to cling as they undressed each other amidst wandering hands, lazy kisses, and laughter.
