Sam nodded. “I agree. Mind if I jump in the shower first?”
“It’s all yours,” Ollie replied. “What do you want? I think the restaurant downstairs looked decent.”
“Surprise me?”
“Yeah, sure.” He gave Sam a soft smile and then moved across the room to the desk, searching for the hotel restaurant’s menu. As he opened the drawer and pulled out a black folder with the hotel’s information in it, he heard the duffle bag unzip behind him, followed by a quiet groan. He turned around to see Sam hunting through the bag with an almost frantic energy.
“I-I think I forgot my toothbrush and razor, I can’t—can’t find—”
“We probably both forgot,” Ollie cut in, and he put the folder down on the desk, stepped back over to Sam, and set his hand on Sam’s back. Tension rippled off Sam, and Ollie rubbed his back gently as he suppressed a frown, unsure exactly why Sam’s mood had changed so quickly. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. You go start your shower, and I’ll run downstairs. They always have extras.”
Sam nodded but didn’t immediately move or say anything. He just stared at the duffle bag for another moment, his hands clenched into tight fists against his sides.
“Sam, what’s—”
“I can’t come home with you.”
Ollie’s hand froze on Sam’s back as the words seemed to echo through the room.
Sam wasn’t going to . . . come home? What . . . what did that mean?
Some unpleasant emotion settled deep in the pit of Ollie’s stomach. The room began spinning, and Ollie screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, fighting against it.
“I’m—I’m sorry, you . . . what?”
He was suddenly in Sam’s arms again, pulled in against Sam’s broad chest, and lips pressed to his forehead and then his cheek and then his mouth in light flutters. But something felt wrong, stifling, claustrophobic almost, and he shook his head and pushed himself away from Sam as shock and confusion and so many other emotions swirled around, making him feel nauseous.
“Wh-what do you mean, you can’t come home?” he managed finally, his voice shaking. He pressed both hands into Sam’s chest and forced his eyes up. His boyfriend’s expression was filled with guilt and uncertainty and something else he couldn’t quite interpret. He bit his lower lip to keep it from trembling. “I... I don’t understand.”
Sam’s eyes widened, and he opened his mouth as though to speak, but no words came out. His arms dropped away from Ollie, and he sat heavily on the bed and lowered his head into his hands with a long, shaky exhale. The lack of response had Ollie’s stomach clenched again—knots of confusion twisting painfully.
“Sam?”
“I-I’m sorry, Oll, I didn’t mean . . .”
Ollie just stood there, unsure of what to do or what to say or what was even really happening. When Sam made no more effort to explain himself further, Ollie swallowed hard and blinked back tears.
“You said you can’t come home, Sam. S-so y-you must mean—you must have meant...”
He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t. Because if he was wrong...
“Of course, of course, I didn’t mean—” Sam let out another shuddering breath and reached up to rub his eyes with one hand. “For a few weeks. I meant I can’t come homefor a few weeks. I have to stay here to help—to help Barry and Jaz and make sure he’s... make sure they’re settled when he goes home. Sorry, I—that was—I misspoke. I just meant to tell you and that we should talk about it and—boy, did I mess this all up.”
Sam ran a hand through his hair and then pushed himself up off the bed, his expression filled with a mix of apology and regret. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before taking a tentative step forward, his worried eyes not leaving Ollie’s.
Ollie inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to steady his breathing and rein in the rapid beating of his unsettled heart. He wanted to speak up, but he couldn’t seem to respond right away, and for some reason, when Sam reached out toward him, he flinched away, moving back a step. It was involuntary; he hadn’t done it on purpose. But Sam’s face fell, any of the hope that might have been left in his eyes replaced with guilt and uncertainty. Sam immediately backed off, his gaze dropping to the floor and his hands disappearing into the pockets of his jeans.
A stifling silence filled the room, and the longer it lasted, the more the walls seemed to close in around Ollie, the greater the distance between him and Sam felt. When he finally found his voice, it was barely audible and shaky.
“Sam, I’m sorry for, um, the misunderstanding.” Fighting the part of him that wanted to retreat still—some intense and unpleasant reaction he could barely control, and he wasn’t sure why—Ollie forced his feet to move. It took him several small, unsteady steps this time, and when he reached Sam, he couldn’t quite seem to make himself do anything except stand there, his hands awkwardly clasped in front of him. His heart still raced, and he tensed as Sam lifted a hand and set it lightly on his upper arm.
His stomach lurched, and he closed his eyes, which he immediately regretted. His vision filled with... fear and pain. Not images, but feelings. The dark had a heaviness to it that seemed to sit on his chest, pushing out all the air. He... hadn’t felt this way in a while.
Ollie backed away again, just a step, and then he opened his eyes and shook his head as he turned away, his back to Sam.
“S-sorry, I—”
“No, love,I’msorry,” Sam said from a respectful distance behind him. “I just messed everything up. I—god, can we just reset or something? I... got flustered when I couldn’t find my toothbrush, and it’s been a really, really long day, and I just... I should have just told you we needed to talk about what the next few weeks might look like. I can’t believe I... I’m so sorry, Ollie.”
