“Um, hello?It’s better than squirrel.Why would you want to call me that?”
“’Cause you like nuts.”Ian squeezed him.
Sam was silent a few seconds.“Why do you need to call me anything at all?I mean, other than Sam.”He didn’t sound annoyed, he sounded apprehensive.Tension started to invade his neck muscles again.
“Shouldn’t I have a pet name for my boyfriend?”Ian said and held his breath.
Sam rolled over on top of him completely, feeling his way along Ian’s arms to intertwine their fingers.Ian could sense his intent stare, even if he couldn’t see it.It was in the closeness of his face and the way he gripped him.“Am I your boyfriend?”
Hell.“Yeah, if you want.”
“I want,” Sam said immediately.Then he kissed him, tongue insinuating itself into Ian’s mouth, and Ian let him have control.Partly because Sam wanted it, but also because Ian needed him to have it.Sam was getting hard again, rubbing against Ian, capturing Ian’s thighs between his and using the hold for leverage.
Ian was suddenly so hard he ached.He lifted his hips into Sam’s, wanting to give him what he was already taking.Sam’s hands gripped tighter, trapping Ian’s.When Ian came, he came for Sam, out of control and moaning into Sam’s mouth, letting Sam draw it out of him.Sam came right after, and Ian understood in that moment what Sam was giving him.He couldn’t explain it later, but for a few seconds it was crystal clear.
When Sam finally let go of his hands, Ian couldn’t stop running them up and down Sam’s back, feeling the sweat he’d worked up.Jesus, eventhatwas for him, wasn’t it?This feeling had to be why people sometimes cried after sex.He blinked hard against the urge, but Sam somehow knew and kissed his eyelids closed.He couldn’t miss the wetness there.He didn’t say anything though, he just held Ian’s head between his hands and kissed him softly, over and over, until Ian felt almost normal and lost that weird urge to open his mouth and say things he didn’t know if he really meant.
He couldn’t stop feeling that Sam was holding his heart between his hands.
Finally Sam rolled over partway, almost falling off the couch, but Ian caught him.Sam grabbed the afghan off the back of the couch.“Is this washable?”
Ian had to clear his throat.“Yeah.”
Sam wiped them both off with it, then threw it on the floor.
Ian might have dozed off for a few minutes, lying there with Sam’s arm pillowing his head.When he woke up—after trying to move a half inch and discovering he had no room—Sam was still awake, snuggled under Ian’s chin and running fingers through his chest hair.
“I loved that.When you did that for me.The kilt and the war prize and ...you know.Played romance novel with me.”
Ian’s heart did a somersault, but he managed a normal tone.“We can do it again, it was hot.”
Sam stretched an inch or two, not quite enough to knock him off the couch.“Good.So, I guess I should have a pet name for you.”
“You could call me laird,” Ian suggested, even though he wasn’t feeling like one right now.
Sam swirled fingers in his chest hair, then tugged lightly on it.“Can I call you laird bear?”
“Hell no.”
Ian felt Sam smile against his neck.
“No,” he repeated.
“Okay,” Sam said agreeably, still smiling.
“Fuck,” Ian muttered.
Sam giggled.It was cute.
“Let’s go to bed,” he said, nudging Sam with his arm.“This couch is too small.”
“Okay, laird.Bear.”
“Ha.Ha.”
The bench at the bus shelter outside Fatty’s was uncomfortable.Actually, the benches in all the bus shelters in the city were uncomfortable, but since Sam was currently sitting on the one outside Fatty’s, it was the one he cared about now.
Fortunately, he had a book to distract him from his throbbing ass.Too bad it’s throbbing because of this damn seat.If it was throbbing in a good, Ian-induced way, he’d be fine with it.But it was Wednesday night, and he and Ian were responsible adults who had to get up early and needed their sleep, so Sam had no plans to go over to Ian’s place now that his shift at Fatty’s had ended.
