by Aislin, Amy
“Bo,” Sam groaned. “Shit.”
Seated to the hilt, they both took a moment to adjust. Bo sat up, threw a grin at Sam, and crooked a finger. “Come ‘ere.”
Sam heaved himself up, arms threading around Bo’s waist. Straddling Sam’s hips like this brought Bo’s head up a couple of inches above Sam’s. He buried a hand in Sam’s hair; the other caressed his strong back. Bo bit Sam’s bottom lip, sucked it into his mouth, let it pop back out.
“One of these days,” Bo said brokenly as Sam started to move, “we’re going to get tested—” gasp “—and get rid of the condom.”
“Fuck.” Sam shuddered.
They were breathing hard when their mouths met, and Sam groaned into Bo’s mouth when Bo started to pump his hips. Bo loved this position, feeling Sam’s strong thighs beneath him, his carved back under his hands, his defined chest against his own. Sam used one hand to clutch Bo’s ass; the other carved fingernail imprints into his lower back. Bo couldn’t wait to see those in the mirror later.
“Bo,” Sam said, voice tight and heavy. “Gonna come.”
“Yeah.” Bo moved harder and faster, and Sam met him with enthusiasm. “When you come in me without a condom, your jizz will leak out of my ass.”
“Oh, fuck.” Sam went still, body tensing, hand gripping Bo’s butt so hard it hurt, teeth biting Bo’s shoulder. The pleasure-pain made Bo’s balls tighten, sending Bo over the edge. He could feel Sam’s dick pulsing inside him, filling the condom, while his own dick erupted and painted their bellies white. “Shit,” Sam whispered against Bo’s shoulder, still breathing hard, beard scritching against Bo’s skin. Bo ran his hand through Sam’s sweaty hair, messing it up.
He kissed Sam’s hot temple. “Congratulations.”
Sam started to laugh.
§§§§
“Thanks again for the lift, guys.”
Sam pulled up to the departure gate at Pearson Airport and popped the trunk. Bo squeezed his thigh in silent thanks and opened his door.
“It really wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it.”
Laura was still talking. She’d talked the entire thirty-minute trip to the airport, as if trying to fill the silence. She didn’t know yet that he and Sam were often happy to sit in contented silence. They now knew more about wildlife rehabilitation than they’d ever wanted to and could ace a quiz called What Is Laura’s Vacation Itinerary? They probably knew down to the minute which city she’d be in.
“Bye, Sam,” Laura said, and got out of the car. Bo met her at the back of the car and helped lift her suitcase out of the trunk. “I, um…” She jumped when Bo slammed the trunk closed. “I probably won’t be able to call too many times a day with the time difference and all.”
How had she been planning on working around that before he’d found out about this? Deciding he didn’t care, instead Bo said, “Well, three times a day was a little excessive, so…”
She winced. “Yeah. You’re probably right.” She waved at someone over Bo’s shoulder. Bo turned to look. “My friends,” she said.
A tall guy with dreads and a woman with a blonde pixie cut stood next to the entrance doors.
“Bo, I wanted to say…”
He turned back to Laura to see her watching him.
“Thank you,” she said, “for watching over Big Sky while I’m away. I know I don’t need to call three times a day. Believe it or not, I do trust you to run the place, otherwise I wouldn’t keep asking you to.” It was nice to hear, yet Bo had to wonder if it was too little too late. “Do you remember Schnee and PomPom? You had them in early June, I think? Anyway, Mr. Vines—their owner?—he emailed me to tell me you were great and that his daughter’s pets seemed happy and healthy after their stay with you. Doc. Rajan was impressed too. You’re doing a great job.”
“I could do an even better one had you not told your regular clients that you’d be away for the summer.”
She bit her lip. “I was sort of hoping you hadn’t noticed that.”
“I’m not an idiot, Laura.” He was tired again. Would talking with Laura always make him feel like this? He felt like an innocent kid defending himself against a jury that’d already found him guilty, yet also like a worn out geriatric.
“No. No, you’re not. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like one.”
Bo nodded, acknowledging the apology—acknowledging all of the apologies that had fallen out of Laura’s mouth since last night—but not quite sure he was ready to forgive yet.
Laura kicked a pebble and sent it tumbling under the car. Bo followed its path, but then his eyes caught on Sam in the car: He’d turned around in the driver’s seat and was watching them out of the back window. Knowing Sam was looking out for him filled him with awe and a sense of belonging, turning his stomach all gooey and mushy.
“Do you think we’ll be okay?” Laura asked, fiddling with the handle of her suitcase. “I know I messed up, but…is it too late to fix it?”
Bo had messed up too by not speaking up sooner. Had he said something, maybe things would’ve been different. Hindsight was twenty-twenty and all that.
Maybe it wasn’t too little too late.
“Yeah, I think we’ll be okay.” Eventually.
Laura smiled tentatively, and Bo smiled back. She threw her arms around him. It was a bit of a shock to realize that she was an inch or two shorter than him, especially after he’d built her up as this larger-than-life character in his head.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” she said. “I’ll see you in a couple months.”
“Have fun.” Bo pulled out of the embrace. It felt a little weird to hug her after years of no physical contact between them. Good, but weird. “Sam and I will be here on September first to pick you up.”
“Thanks.” She squeezed his arm, grabbed her suitcase, and trotted up to her friends, blonde ponytail swinging behind her. She waved over her shoulder before entering the airport.
Feeling optimistic about their relationship for the first time in almost ten years, Bo rolled his shoulders to loosen them and got back into the car. Sam’s eyes were whiskey-warm when they met his. Bo’s stomach flipped at the way Sam looked at him as if he was the center of his universe.
Taking Bo’s hand in his, Sam kissed his palm. “Home?”
“Home.”
Epilogue
OCTOBER
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Sam’s mom kissed his cheek. “Dinner was delicious.”
“You’re welcome. Thanks for cleaning up. You didn’t have to.”
His mom winked. “It was Laura’s idea.”
Sam looked over to where Bo was holding out Laura’s coat for her. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, but it was getting better every day. Sam knew that Bo wasn’t putting himself fully out there with his sister; a part of him was hesitant to believe that she actually wanted to reconcile. It was hard to get over ten years of insecurity. But Sam also knew that wall was slowly coming down.
“We’ll see you Sunday for dinner?” his mom asked.
“Of course.”
He watched as she walked down the driveway to where his dad and sisters were already waiting in the car.
“Sam.”
He turned to Laura.
“Thank you for dinner, it was lovely.”
He accepted her hug. “Thanks for bringing the cranberry sauce. There would’ve been a riot without it.”
She laughed, said a last goodbye, and was out the door a second later.
Sam closed the door behind her, then leaned back against it and let out a tired sighed. “What do you think?” he asked Bo. “Should we host another holiday?”
Bo wrinkled his nose. “Maybe a non-important one, like… No, I take it back. No more hosting.”
“My parents?”
“At least they have the space.”
Their new place outside of Guelph was small, but the property was huge. Once Bo started classes at the university next fall, it would only take him fifteen minutes to get there. Sam’s
parents’ house—and thus Bo’s job—was only fifteen minutes in the other direction. They couldn’t have chosen a better location.
They’d moved in a week ago. There were boxes everywhere, but they’d managed to unpack their bedroom and bathroom, as well as the kitchen and dining room. They didn’t even have a couch yet. Why they’d decided to host Thanksgiving when they were barely moved in was anybody’s guess. Lesson learned.
Miraculously, they hadn’t had to move in with Sam’s parents before taking possession of the house. Bo had suggested that he get in touch with the Harrisons. Turned out they’d wanted to extend their stay in Vancouver to spend extra time with their daughter and her new baby and had been happy for Sam to stay in the house an extra six weeks.
Bo had moved in with him when Laura returned from her vacation. According to his boyfriend, it was “bad juju” to live in the same house as the person you were trying to reconcile with. Sam couldn’t argue; it would be stressful to say the least.
A couple of weeks ago, he and Bo had road tripped it to Ottawa to pack up Bo’s apartment. Bo hadn’t wanted to keep any of his big stuff—“I want to start fresh,” he’d said—so they’d sold off his TV, kitchen table and chairs, couch, bed, and small appliances, and driven home with his books and clothes.
“Want to see what came in during dinner?” Sam asked Bo now. He pulled his phone from his pocket and brought up the email app. “The magazine that’s doing the write up on my garden sent me the bio they wrote about me.”
He’d been sad to leave his garden behind at the Harrisons’, but as Bo had pointed out, he could plant one that was three times as big here.
“Already?” Bo asked. He came over to stand next to Sam. Sam threaded an arm around him. “Isn’t it for the spring issue?”
“I guess they’re getting a head start? I don’t know how magazine deadlines work. Here.” He handed the phone to Bo. “I’ll be right back.”
He already knew what it said anyway, right next to a picture of the two of them from a Jays game they’d attended in August.
Sam McAuley learned everything he knows about gardening from his father. Gardening with native plants is a hobby for the successful graphic designer, who is also the author of the popular web comic Scythe and Swords. Sam lives in Aberfoyle, Ontario, with his life partner, Bo, and their cat, Tripaw.
Sam went out the back door, grabbed what he needed from beside the deck, and came back inside to find Bo waiting for him in the kitchen.
“I didn’t know your dad taught you to garden,” he said. “And you called me your life partner!” His eyes looked a little glassy.
“That’s because you are,” Sam said. “I have something for you. Close your eyes.”
“Do couples do Thanksgiving presents?” Bo scowled at him. “I don’t have anything for you.”
“It’s not a Thanksgiving present. It’s a just because present.”
“Oh. Okay, then.” He closed his eyes.
Sam placed the little pot he’d been holding behind his back in the middle of the table. “Okay, you can open them now.”
“Awww, little blooming primrose.” Bo touched a leaf with a fingertip. “Like the ones you got me that first night.”
They’d been a bitch to find since they usually bloomed in spring. He’d wanted them for move-in day, but the nursery hadn’t been able to get them for him until today.
“Did you ever find out what they mean?”
“Yeah,” Sam said. “Depending on which website you take as truth, they can symbolize patience, kindness, and gentleness.”
“That’s you!” Bo said.
“It’s also you,” Sam argued, though he knew Bo wouldn’t believe him.
Bo rolled his eyes, confirming his suspicions. “Maybe not the patience part.”
Bo had more patience than he realized, but before Sam could make his point, Bo said, “But what do they mean?”
It was a total coincidence, but a happy one. He couldn’t have planned it better. Leaning back against the table near Bo, Sam brought Bo’s hand to his lips and kissed his palm. “They mean, I can’t live without you.”
Bo’s smile was beautiful.
About the Author
Amy Aislin started writing on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class was forced to stay inside for recess. Tales of adventures with her classmates quickly morphed into tales of adventures with the characters in her head. Based in Oakville, Ontario, she’s a marketer at a large environmental non-profit in Toronto by day, and a writer by night. Book enthusiast, animal lover and (very) amateur photographer, her interests are many and varied, including traveling, astronomy, ecology, and baking.
Visit Amy’s website at www.amyaislin.com.
Amy loves to connect with readers. Send her an email at [email protected] or find her on social media.
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