by Aislin, Amy
§§§§
Knock, knock, knock. “Bo?”
Bo ignored Sam and thumped his head against the bathroom cabinet behind him. He was so mad at Laura that he’d feared he’d take his anger out on Sam, so he’d locked himself in the second-floor bathroom. His ass was numb from sitting on the tile.
“Bo? Are you okay?”
Was he okay? Well, let’s see. In summary:
Laura had lied to him.
Laura had lied to him because she was selfish and thought it was okay to fuck with his life to get what she wanted.
Laura didn’t respect him.
Laura was never going to stop seeing him as an indecisive flake.
Ergo, he might as well stop trying.
He was never going to have the kind of relationship with his sister that Sam had with his own. One of camaraderie and trust and love. It was time he accepted that and moved on.
The red he’d seen while talking to Laura downstairs was gone, replaced with a sadness so deep it hurt his stomach. It was easier to be angry, easier to rail and blame.
He had no idea what to do with the hurt.
“You don’t have to talk to me,” Sam said from the other side of the door. “But I’m right here, okay?” Bo heard him slide down the wall, and when he spoke next, his voice came from much lower to the ground. “I’m here if you want to talk.”
The tears Bo had been fighting sprung to his eyes. Sam was the reason he’d walked away earlier. Looking at him had made Bo realize that the way Sam treated him—with care and understanding and kindness and affection—was the way he wanted to be treated by everyone. It hurt to drop people from his life—his parents, his sister, his so-called friends in Ottawa—but he didn’t want to be treated like an afterthought anymore.
“Bo,” Sam said, voice warm even through the door. “I don’t know if I ever apologized for the way I treated you when you first arrived.”
“You did,” Bo whispered, too softly for Sam to hear.
“I was freaked over being sued, sure,” Sam continued. “But I was also…warned against you, I guess. Laura told me that you were an irresponsible flake, and I didn’t need that in my life so I let it color how I looked and treated you. I’m sorry, Bo.”
Reason number fourteen-thousand why Bo was so done with his family.
Bo reached up for the doorknob and opened the door. And there Sam was, sitting against the wall right outside the bathroom, eyes filled with concern as he looked at Bo.
“Why are you telling me this now?” Bo asked.
“Because I want you to know that that’s not how I see you. You’re smart and kind and thoughtful and funny and you put others before yourself, even those who don’t have a voice, like the evil chickens, and all the animals you’ve looked after in the past two months, and the horses at the farm. You’re a little bit prickly, but I love that about you. I love everything about you.” Sam ran his thumb over Bo’s cheekbone, catching a tear on his thumb. “I see you, Bo. I see you.”
Unable to form words past the lump in his throat, Bo crawled over to Sam and snuggled up against him, laying his head on his shoulder.
Bo blew out a shaky breath against Sam’s neck, then ran his fingers over the goosebumps that formed on Sam’s skin.
“I’m sorry you had to see that down there,” he said.
Sam snorted. “Laura said the same thing.”
Just her name made Bo frown.
“Besides,” Sam continued, “I like seeing you all fired up. Total turn on.”
“What?” Bo chuckled despite himself. “It is not.”
Sam grabbed Bo’s hand and put it over his crotch, where there was a semi-hard cock under Sam’s jeans.
“Holy shit,” Bo said, laughing. “You’re not kidding.”
“Nope. You totally do it for me, babe.”
Bo kept laughing until a sob took him by surprise. Dismayed, he hid his face in Sam’s shoulder. Sam kissed his temple.
“Have you ever told Laura how you feel? I got the impression that she doesn’t really know how hurtful she can be.”
“‘Course I haven’t,” Bo admitted. “I’m a dude; we don’t talk about our feelings.”
“You and I do,” Sam countered.
“Yeah,” Bo agreed. “But you’re easy to talk to.”
Sam’s arm around his shoulder tightened. They sat silently for a few minutes. Bo breathed in Sam’s comforting scent and felt his soul calm. There weren’t any sounds coming from the kitchen and he briefly wondered where his sister was.
“I feel so used,” Bo said. “Used and hurt and… I guess, at the same time, I’m not even really surprised she did this. Truth is, had she told me up front what her plans were, I probably still would’ve come. I just wanted her to…” see me. He didn’t say it. Sam knew how he felt. Sam saw him.
“I know,” Sam said. His heart beat so strong under Bo’s ear. Bo wished he could take some of that strength and wrap it around him. As if Sam read his mind, he lifted Bo and sat him between his legs. Encircled in all directions, Bo felt protected and safe. Much like he’d felt when Sam had thrust Bo behind him when Laura had opened the door earlier.
Bo brought one of Sam’s hands up to his mouth and kissed his knuckles. “There’s a small part of me that’s not even mad, because had I not come here I never would’ve met you.”
“We would’ve met anyway,” Sam said. His deep voice rumbled in his chest and Bo felt the vibrations against his back.
“You think?”
“You’re going to WebconLite in October, aren’t you?”
“Yeah,” Bo said, though he had no idea where Sam was going with the question. “I signed up because I saw that S.P. McAuley was going to be there.” Realization dawned.
“See?” Sam kissed the back of his neck. “We would’ve met anyway.”
Bo smiled and hooked his foot over Sam’s. “I like that.” WebconLite was a small annual con in Toronto dedicated to all things web comics. “I was going to bring my hard copies of Scythe and Swords and ask you to sign them.”
“But now you’re not going to?” Sam asked. Bo could hear the smile in his voice.
“Actually I was going to the day I found out you’re S.P. McAuley, but I didn’t know if that’d be weird or not.”
“Not weird. Flattering. It’s really cool that you were a fan before we met.”
“And yet you still won’t share the upcoming storyline with me.”
“Nope. Sorry,” Sam said, sounding anything but.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs quieted their laughter. Bo felt Sam tense against him and rubbed his hand over Sam’s forearm. Bo was so utterly done with Laura that he just felt numb, but it was nice knowing that Sam was angry on his behalf, that he had Bo’s back.
Bo thought about moving—was it rude to snuggle with his boyfriend in his sister’s hallway while she was home?—but decided he didn’t feel like it. Laura knew he was gay. During their many phone calls he’d never once told her about him and Sam, but if she hadn’t figured it out while they’d all been in the kitchen then she was an idiot.
She reached the top of the stairs and made a right, then paused when she saw them sitting on the carpet. She opened her mouth to speak but shut it abruptly when she looked over Bo’s shoulder. Bo couldn’t see Sam’s face but he imagined it was reminiscent of a thundercloud.
“Um…” She cleared her throat. “I brought us a snack.” She held out a large plate as a peace offering.
Behind Bo, Sam’s head thumped against the wall and he swore under his breath. Bo couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s so funny?” Laura glanced in confusion at the plate of chopped veggies and egg salad sandwiches cut into triangles.
“He’s allergic to carrots,” Sam said, exasperation heavy in his voice. Bo kept the carrots as treats for the horses, not as food.
“Oh. I knew that.”
Yes, she did. They’d spent years looking after each other before she’d gone away to university and ret
urned as this weird, unapproachable, critical version of herself.
“Sam, can you give Bo and I a few minutes, please?”
Bo felt Sam’s stare on the back of his head. He patted Sam’s thigh and scooted forward, giving Sam room to get out.
“It’s fine,” he said. “Maybe take the food over to your place and get started on dinner? I’ll be over in a few.”
“Sure.” Sam kissed the back of his neck before heading for the stairs.
“Don’t forget the cookies!”
Sam winked at him. “Have I ever?”
He watched Sam descend the stairs until he could no longer see him and then turned to Laura. She sat on the carpet across from him. Bo leaned back against the wall and rested his forearms on his upraised knees.
“I know you guys said you had dinner plans,” Laura said, placing the plate between them, “but I thought…in case you’re hungry…”
He stared at her.
“So… You and Sam, huh?”
Bo raised an eyebrow.
“Right.” She nibbled on a celery stick. Bo waited. She finished her chewing and reached for a cucumber slice. Rolling his eyes, Bo stood up. “Wait, please.” Laura grabbed his wrist and tugged. “Just…sit for a second.”
He sat back down.
“How did we get like this?”
“Well, I’d say it started when you went to university, didn’t come home for four years, and basically started ignoring me unless you needed something.” He laid it all out bluntly, but then felt bad when her face paled. “Look. I don’t know what I did to make you treat me like you have the past few years. But it stops now. I’m not putting up with it anymore.”
“You never did anything,” Laura said. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “For a long time I thought the way we lived was normal. Going from city to city, job to job, following Mom and Dad around as they got fired from one place and moved on to the next. I guess I was in my teens when I realized we weren’t the norm, and when I came here for school? I met an exchange student from the Philippines studying medicine so he could go home and become his village’s doctor, and a film grad student who wanted to be the next George Lucas, and a pair of twins who’d grown up in the foster care system. And I met a lot of people who grew up with parents who worked the same job their whole lives. And I realized…the way we lived, it wasn’t normal. It wasn’t even safe. We lived in some horrible dives sometimes and…I just wanted to distance myself from that.”
“Yeah, I get that. I did the same when I left for Ottawa,” Bo said. “But by distancing yourself, you also distanced yourself from me and started treating me like a disease. All I wanted was to be close to you again, but… Did you really tell Sam that I’m an irresponsible flake?”
Laura winced.
Bo shook his head. “I’m not irresponsible. And I’m not a flake. Never have been. The fact that you lumped me into the same category as Mom and Dad is, frankly, insulting. I know I’ve had trouble deciding what I want to do with the rest of my life, but that just means I’m confused. Kind of like a lot of other twenty-four year olds in the world. Don’t think my situation is unique.”
“No, I know it’s not,” Laura admitted. “In fact, I have friends who still aren’t sure what they want to do. I shouldn’t have made you feel bad about it.”
“No, you shouldn’t’ve. I could’ve really used your help, you know.”
He was tired, so fucking tired of talking. He wanted to find Sam, have a quiet dinner, then take him to bed.
“I’m sorry, Bo. About everything. I’m sorry I lied about this trip, too. Sam said you probably would’ve come anyway had I told you the truth.”
“Yeah, I probably would’ve.” He laid his head back against the wall and closed his eyes.
“If that’s true then… Why are you so mad? If the end result would’ve been the same?”
Bo had to laugh. When had she stopped understanding basic human decency? “It’s the principle of the thing! You lied. You told me that you had a very important certification course you wanted to take, one that would take Big Sky to the next level and increase your visibility and reputation.”
She pointed a finger at him. “That’s still true even though the course was two months and not four.”
“Laura. Not the point.” He rubbed his face with his hands and considered walking away. “I feel used,” he said quietly, “and betrayed and like you purposefully lied to me to get what you wanted.”
Laura looked like she was about to refute, but then nodded instead. “You’re right. I did. I’m sorry, Bo.”
“And I’m sorry I never talked to you about any of this before.” He sighed. “What time’s your flight tomorrow?”
“Noon.”
Bo stood. “I’m going to spend the night at Sam’s. I’ll be back in the morning to give you a ride to the airport.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said.
Bo ignored her, said, “I’ll see you in the morning,” and left.
Chapter Eleven
Bo stood in Sam’s yard, off to the side where Sam couldn’t see him, and admired Sam’s tall, strong form as he barbecued their dinner. Just looking at him made Bo feel so much better.
He walked forward, left his telescope at the bottom of the deck stairs next to the small herb garden Sam was growing, and climbed the three steps onto the deck.
Sam smiled at him and the clouds threatening to drown him lifted. “Hey, baby.”
Bo went right up to him and placed the softest of kisses on his lips. Thank you, his kiss said, and I love you and You make me happy, all rolled into one.
“What was that for?” Sam asked, voice husky, eyes half-mast.
“Just because,” Bo said, and moved away from the heat of the steaming barbecue.
“Well if you feel like just becausing later, I’m all for it.”
Chuckling, Bo left Sam to finish cooking and headed inside for tableware, almost tripping over Tripaw in the process.
“Hey, Tripaw, have you been fed yet?” The cat’s empty food bowl said no.
He grabbed the cat food from the cupboard and filled the bowl. Bo had spent twenty minutes at the store earlier this week trying to pick a flavor for Tripaw. The customers must’ve thought he was a weirdo, standing there staring at bags of cat food, trying to figure out which one the cat would like best, picking up one bag, setting it down again, choosing a different one. Chicken, tuna, or mixed seafood?
He must’ve chosen well with the mixed seafood if the way Tripaw pounced on his food was anything to go by.
Sam was placing dinner on the table outside when Bo came out with plates and silverware. They were quiet through dinner, the clink of forks on plates mixing with the distant cluck of chickens from next door and the wind blowing serenely through the trees. Bo ate with one of his feet trapped between both of Sam’s beneath the table. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him during the meal, but he must’ve decided Bo was doing all right because he didn’t ask. Not until they’d both finished and were sitting back in their chairs watching the sun set over the fields in the distance.
Sam’s hand landed on his neck. “Want to talk about it?”
Bo shook his head. “I’m all talked out.”
“I’m here when you’re ready.” Sam’s thumb drifted over Bo’s neck, over his jaw, onto his lips. Bo sucked it into his mouth and made a small sound of satisfaction when Sam’s eyes heated.
“Sam?”
Sam grunted.
“Let’s clean up so you can take me to bed.”
In the bedroom ten minutes later, they lay on the bed kissing like they had all the time in the world. On their sides facing each other, Sam threw a leg over Bo’s hip, pinning him in place. Bo could feel Sam’s erection against his, but neither one of them was in a hurry.
“I forgot the champagne next door,” Bo said.
Sam pushed him onto his back and kissed down his neck. “There’s still tomorrow.”
“Or the next day.”
>
“Or any day after that.”
Or any day after that. Bo grinned at the ceiling.
They undressed each other lazily and when they were finally naked, Bo pushed on Sam’s shoulders to get him to move onto his back.
“Why?” Sam asked, but he went willingly.
Bo licked and kissed his way down Sam’s chest. Giving his hard length a preliminary swipe with his tongue, Bo smiled at Sam’s groan. He shot Sam his dirtiest grin and said, “I want to give you a celebratory blowjob.” He hadn’t forgotten that they needed to celebrate the dropped case.
He took Sam into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the cock head, tasting Sam’s pre-come. He used one hand to keep Sam’s dick steady; the other fondled Sam’s balls. Sam swore and widened his legs, giving Bo more access.
Sam’s pubes tickled his nose when he deep throated Sam’s cock. He hollowed his cheeks and sucked.
“Fuck, Bo.” A hand landed in Bo’s hair and tugged. “Get up here. I wanna be in you when I come.”
Bo gave him one last deep suck before complying. He licked and kissed his way back up Sam’s chest but got flipped mercilessly onto his back before he got to Sam’s mouth.
“Hey!” Bo said, laughing.
“You were taking too long.” Sam pecked him on the mouth then grabbed the lube out of the night table drawer.
Bo gasped and fisted the pillow behind his head when Sam inserted a finger into him.
“Baby, look at me.”
His eyes met Sam’s just as a second finger was inserted. Bo’s thighs shook when a finger rubbed his prostate, electricity jolting him.
“Sam,” he gasped.
Sam’s eyes went molten at his name. “One more. And then me.”
“Yes, yes, yes.”
A third finger stretched him and Bo swore under his breath, unable to breathe he was so damn turned on.
“Sam, I wanna ride you.”
The man didn’t need much convincing. He was on his back with a condom in place in less than ten seconds. Bo dribbled lube onto Sam’s thick cock, then lined himself up, taking him in an inch a time. The sensation of Sam rubbing up against his nerve endings made Bo shudder. He placed both hands on Sam’s chest and watched a muscle jump in Sam’s jaw. It looked like he was swearing under his breath.
