Page 90 of Give Me What You Will

“Perks of the ED.”

“Bullshit.”

He shot him a look, which Frankie countered with his own.

He released a long breath and nodded. “I’ve been working doubles.”

Frankie’s jaw twitched. “I fuckin’ knew it.”

He leaned forward, taking a sip of beer and feeling exposed.

“You don’t take care of yourself, and it fuckin’ bothers me,” Frankie grumbled. “I can’t always be here to take care of you. I gotta know you’re at least tryin’, baby.”

Something warmed his chest at the possessiveness in Frankie’s words and tone. “Yeah, all right.”

“You fuckin’ promise?”

He nodded, trying not to grin like a love-besotted idiot. Frankie grunted and tugged him back down into his side. “You take more naps than my ma’s cat.”

Sam chuckled, sinking into him and loving his warm, solid feel, breathing in his scent and relaxing.

“I like this,” he admitted after a while.

Frankie hummed, kissing the top of his head, “I like it more. You’re oddly comfortable for being mostly muscle.”

He laughed.

Frankie affectionately kissed his cheek. “We should’ve cuddled more often.”

“Yeah, right.”

He shrugged, “Guess we’re just gonna have to make up for lost time then.”

“What do you mean?” He asked, heart skipping.

“Cuddling is now a requirement in this relationship.”

His stomach swooped. “Relationship?”

Frankie stilled and glanced nervously at him. “I meant—friendship.”

“Friendship.” He stated the word, and it felt dry and bitter on his tongue, instantly souring the mood. He sat up, shifting away from Frankie, not sure why his heart felt heavy, weighted by an anchor he couldn’t seem to detach from.

His eyes fixated on the photos of Papi and Jack. Of the love letters he and Jack had written to each other during their time at war. So much hope for their future, even though they had no certainty of surviving.

“Did Papi ever tell you the story of how they met?” he heard himself ask, and Frankie, eyes alert and watching him closely, shook his head.

“Their sisters were best friends in high school, and they all happened to live in the same neighborhood. So, they hung out together after school and became friends. Then one day the draft happened. They were both barely 18 years old, going to war together. Papi said he was scared, but it helped that his best friend was with him.”

“Yeah, no shit. I was a fuckin’ knucklehead at 18. I couldn’t imagine havin’ to go to war, not unless you were with me. And even then…” Frankie shook his head, “I wouldn’t want you there gettin’ in harm's way.”

He turned to look at him, surprised, yet he felt the exact same way about him. And there it was again, that tender look in Frankie’s eyes that terrified him, because if he could look at him like that—if he could be possessive and protective—vulnerable and kind—it meant he could love.

And Sam, deep down, knew that Frankie did love him. But that love was reserved for friends, not this.

Sam cleared his throat. “Papi said it took going to war for him to realize that he loved Jack.” He reached for the stack of white, worn-down letters, his heart racing. “Papi was more scared about telling Jack how he felt than getting shot.”

Something I can relate to.