Ollie made himself nod in response, but he still felt sick, dizzy even. “I-I understand. I’m sorry I-I just need to... to, um, I need a minute. I’m sorry. I-I should, um...”
“Of course, whatever you need. I’m so sorry. What—what can I do? Is... is it... bad?”
“A little,” Ollie admitted, and he turned around again so his back was no longer toward Sam as fear settled low in his stomach. The room around him was dark and hazy, though he knew the lights hadn’t been dimmed, and a painful ache began to grow in his chest. But mostly, he felt the heaviness again,pressing in on him. He backed up another step, reaching behind him with his hands until he felt the desk chair. Then he pulled it out and slumped down in it, lowering his head into his hands.
Despite the pounding of his own heart, he heard Sam’s light footsteps move just a little closer to him and then the sounds of Sam settling down on the ground. When he risked a glance at his boyfriend, he saw Sam sitting cross-legged a few feet in front of him, watching him with concern.
“I don’t know why...” Ollie started, trailing off as his stomach lurched again.
Sam’s eyes didn’t leave his, and Sam nodded slowly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re okay. You’re safe and loved. I love you, Oll.”
Sam scooted himself closer, his movement careful and controlled, his eyes asking silent permission. Ollie gave him a small nod, and Sam moved forward again, until he was close enough to set his hands on Ollie’s knees. Ollie forced himself not to flinch away, but a wave of nausea hit him, and he screwed his eyes shut and groaned.
Why now? Why like this? Of all times.
It had started with just a simple misunderstanding, and just because they were both tired and stressed. All the kissing and touching earlier had been fine. Better than fine, even. But this now was definitely not fine—and god, it was heavy and... threatening.
And all when he just needed to be strong—strong and here for his boyfriend.
“It’s okay, Oll. You’re safe and loved,” Sam repeated softly. “Deep breaths, count with me...”
Ollie nodded and reached out to set his hands on top of Sam’s as he followed Sam’s lead, taking several slow, deep breaths while Sam counted backwards from ten. Gradually,some warmth seemed to return, some light from the darkness, some clarity from the haze. He closed his eyes again.
“I love you, Ollie,” Sam repeated, his voice quiet and soothing. “I love you, and I’m so sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”
The words washed over him, and he found himself nodding slightly. “I know.”
“Maybe we, um, try again—to talk, I mean—after...”
Ollie took another breath, but this one was shakier. “Y-yeah. I’ll order us dinner, and you go shower, and when—and we can talk while... while we eat?”
“Right, yeah,” Sam agreed. “But I can run down to the front desk first, and I’ll get us both toothbrushes and razors. And anything else we forgot. So you don’t have to...”
The gentle hands on his knees squeezed him lightly, and Ollie nodded again. “O-okay.”
There was another silence—brief but not entirely comfortable—and Ollie felt as Sam stood slowly, his hands pressing into Ollie’s knees and then disappearing. Sam immediately backed up a step—so he wasn’t towering over him, Ollie knew.
“Can I help you up, love? Can I... hug you?”
“Yes,” Ollie said without hesitation this time. He lifted one hand up, and Sam took it and then gently pulled Ollie to his feet. Seconds later, Sam inched closer and then carefully, very carefully, embraced him.
With a muffled sob, which he hoped Sam didn’t quite hear, Ollie wrapped his arms low around Sam’s waist and leaned into Sam’s chest. A light kiss brushed against his temple, and the rest of the chill and darkness and haze seemed to dissipate, chased away by his boyfriend’s warmth.
“I love you,” Sam murmured again, and Ollie nodded into Sam’s chest, trying not to think about how on earth he was going to manage several weeks without this.
Chapter 20
Sam stepped out of the bathroom and paused, his eyes landing on his boyfriend. Ollie stood next to the desk, leaning over slightly as he set down his laptop and hit the power button. Most of his tension seemed to be gone. At least, that was the feeling Sam got from across the room. But he was almost scared to move closer, the memory of just a little while ago still fresh in his mind.
It had been a long time since anything had made Ollie flinch away from him like that. And it had felt much too much like it had at the beginning, in the first days and weeks after Ollie’s assault. Although at least this time, Ollie had recovered quickly, communicated that he just needed a minute, let Sam hug him afterward. And it hadn’t morphed into some full-blown flashback or prolonged panic attack.
Still, Sam wasn’t sure what all that meant or how to approach Ollie now. Maybe this was actually... progress? Maybe he should act normal? Like nothing had really happened?
Or maybe just the opposite. Maybe he needed to be extra careful now. Let Ollie take the first step, set the pace.
He’d already made enough mistakes—pushing too hard and fast with their kissing earlier and then... god, the stupid, stupid mistake of not finishing his sentence. Stopping after saying “I can’t come home with you,” when what he’d really meant to say was that he and Ollie needed to talk about him staying in Boston for a few weeks to help Barry and Jaz.
He wanted to kick himself.
