Endless, Forever (20 page)

Ignoring Sam’s bemused expression, Oliver clambered from the tub.  Grabbing a towel on the way out, he hurried into the bedroom.  Oliver dug around in his suitcase, and soon found the small, red box he’d tucked in with his jeans.  Clutching it in a bruising grip, he took a long breath, then hurried back into the bathroom.

Sam was waiting, his body low in the tub, chin propped up against the porcelain, and he sat up a little when Oliver slid back into the water.  Holding the box between his fingers, he handed it to Sam.

“I was thinking about what you said before.  Before we took the holiday,” he clarified as Sam took it into his palm.  “The thing is, I’m not ready to leave Leo, and he’s not ready for me to go.  But if you’re still interested…”  He trailed off and gestured to the box.

Licking his lips, Sam pried off the top, his light eyes going wide at the silver key nestled in a small bed of cotton.  “Is this…?”

“Key to my flat.  Ours, if you like,” Oliver said in a rush.  “Whenever you want.  I’ve talked to Leo about it and…
mmfph
!” His words were cut off by warm lips on his, a possessive, claiming kiss.

“Yes,” Sam muttered right up against Oliver’s mouth.  “Yes, I absolutely will move in with you.”

Unable to hide his grin, Oliver kissed back slowly, trying to shove every ounce of affection he had for this man.  It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t love.  But it was something.  It was the start to moving on.

And Oliver knew he could live with that.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Half expecting some massive, life-changing disaster to crash down on them during the weekend get-away, Oliver was on edge the entire time they were in Cornwall.  But as they made the drive back, holding hands every so often, telling jokes about co-workers and smiling fondly at each other, Oliver realized that everything was fine.

It was more than fine.

Sam was moving in with him, he was moving forward with his own life, and things were getting better.

The following Monday, Sam was out on assignment, and Oliver perched at his own desk editing a piece for the next morning’s print, when he heard a small giggle.  Peering up, he saw a pair of blue eyes poking over his cube, and he let out a sigh.

“Yes, Mel?”

Their office was very small, the online publication employing less than twenty people, so everyone knew each other’s business.  Melinda was another editor, employed six months longer than Oliver had been, and had been the one to originally point out Sam was taken with him the moment Oliver had been hired on.

She had appointed herself a Cupid, much to the chagrin of both men, but they were often too busy or too tired to argue with her.  “A little birdie told me you and Sam took a big step last weekend.”

“The little birdies round here need to keep their fucking mouths shut,” Oliver said, with only a hint of venom.  He sat back in his chair and reached for his mug of tea, giving her a challenging eyebrow.

A second later, she disappeared, then rolled back in her chair to invade his cube.  “Is it true, though?  Are you two moving in together?”

“I’m not entirely sure that’s any of your business,” he reminded her.

She scoffed, waving her hand dismissively.  “You know how this office is.  It’s everyone’s business.”

“Yes well, I am working on a deadline so…”

“So you’d better spill whilst you have the time, love.”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver sighed and realized it wouldn’t matter if he tried to keep it quiet.  The moment Sam changed his address on the payroll records, everyone would know.  “Fine.  Yes.  We’ve agreed to
try
living together.”  He paused and then added, “Please don’t make a big fuss about this.”

Melanie let out a small squeal, but covered her mouth.  “I’m so excited.  I should get a second job as a matchmaker.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Sure love, whatever you say.”

“So will there be wedding bells in the future?” she asked, waggling her brows.

Oliver, who had just taken a sip of his tea, choked a little.  “We’ve been dating six months.  You don’t think it’s a little early to be talking about marriage?”  Although truthfully, it was less the length of time and more making that kind of commitment to Sam.

Giving a dismissive wave of her hand, Melanie smiled, the expression a little smug.  “Look, he’s really fit and very nice.  You need to lock that down, you know?  I mean, it does pain me that the two fittest blokes in the office happen to be not only gay, but super gay for each other, but really, I just want to see you both happy.”

Oliver sighed, wanting to know why it was important to her.  He hadn’t been there all that long, and the idea of being invested in someone else’s relationship seemed ridiculous.  But he smiled at her anyway.  “Yes well, we are happy, darling.  So if that’s all…?”

“Yes, yes.  Alright.”  She quickly leaned over and pressed a slightly sticky kiss to his cheek, then swiped at the lipstick mark with her fingers.  “I’m happy too, you know, for you both.”

“Thanks,” he said with a gentle smile.

Sam returned to the office a few hours later, and before Oliver could warn him, Melanie was squealing again.  Sam was a little more enthusiastic about the whole thing, boisterously declaring his intentions, and Oliver sat at his desk with his head down, a faint blush across his cheeks.

It got worse when Sam kissed him.  He heard a few wolf whistles until their boss barked at them to get back to work, and he didn’t miss the knowing looks of several co-workers as the pair left hand-in-hand at the end of the day.

“That was mortifying,” Oliver complained as they headed for the street.

Sam laughed, giving his hand a playful tug.  “Aw, come off it.  It’s cute.”

“I just don’t see why they have to be all up in our business,” Oliver said with a shrug.  “I mean okay, it’s a small office so they’re going to have some idea.  But why get all…invested?”

Sam shrugged, his light expression hardening a bit.  “They want to see us happy, is all.  I mean, it gives people hope that things can work out.  So many romances are so bleak.”

Oliver could hardly argue with that, and instead of carrying on, suggested they grab curry to bring home.  Leo was still working hard on editing Oliver’s thesis, and there was a week left before it was due in.  Sam planned to move his things in after Oliver handed it in, during the two weeks Oliver would be using to prepare his defense.  It was a tense time in their house, but Oliver figured it would prove whether or not Sam could handle things at their potential worst.

The couple brought home several different curries to a grateful Leo who looked tired, eyes red-rimmed from the reading, but when Oliver tried to take the work back, he refused.  “You have a week left, and you need at least a couple days to go back over it.  Besides, I’m nearly done.”

Oliver sighed, but didn’t argue.  Instead he fixed himself a large bowl of tikka masala and rice, and curled up on the couch with a few of his favorite baking show re-runs.  Sam quickly changed out of his office clothes, coming to curl up next to him, and Oliver let himself peer into the idea of the future.

He let himself think about how
this
could be every evening.  Coming home from work, Sam curled up next to him, Leo in his chair, together like a small, cobbled family he had never expected.  He wasn’t sure if the idea terrified him or comforted him, but he was in it now.

In for a penny
, he thought to himself as he spooned rice and lamb into his mouth.

Sam’s hand fell onto his thigh and instead of tensing, he went lax.  The feeling of his boyfriend comforted him and he decided that things would be alright.  They really would be.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Oliver was pacing the house when Leo walked in, giving his brother a withering glare.  The defense was in three days, and Oliver was running himself mad over it.  He knew he was prepared, he’d been researching for years and his topic wasn’t very complicated.  However, his nerves were frayed with anticipation, and the idea that soon enough it would all be over and he would be done.

He would have his graduate degree, he would be a proper adult in a proper relationship, and the demons of his past were close to silent.

Reaching for the counter, he grabbed his glass of juice and drank half in one go as Leo shrugged off his coat and hung it on the back of a kitchen chair.  “Mobile off?”

Oliver raised a brow, then shrugged.  “Probably dead.  I lost it yesterday afternoon and couldn’t be arsed to have a proper look for it.”

Rolling his eyes, Leo went to the counter and flicked on the electric kettle.  “Dad’s been trying to get through since yesterday.  He says he’s going to be here for your defense.”

Having just taken another drink, Oliver choked, pressing his hand to his mouth to keep the juice in place.  He swallowed quickly, giving a few coughs to clear his throat, then turned wide eyes on his brother.  “He
what
?”

Leo scoffed as he got down a mug and bag of tea.  “You heard me.  He’s proud of you, you know.  Wants to celebrate.  Meet your boyfriend,” he added in a quieter voice.

Oliver froze, then took a step forward.  “You told him about Sam?”

“Well, he’s going to notice that we’ve got some bloke living here, isn’t he?  Sleeping in your bed, shagging your arse off every night.  It’s not like we could keep it a secret.”

“Christ,” Oliver groaned.

“He does know you’re a raging pouf by now, Ollie.  You think you’re in a closet to
anyone
?”

Oliver huffed, leaning onto the counter, and he dropped his head.  “It’s not about that, you shit.  It’s just… weird, alright?  It’s not like we were close to either of our parents.  One beat us horribly for the whole raging pouf thing, the other ignored us entirely.  So…”

“Yeah well, he’s trying now,” Leo said, and it was true.  Ren hadn’t been very active in their lives, but he was calling more, sending emails, and any time something came up, he offered help and support.  It was more than he’d done in their adolescence, and although it didn’t make up for anything, Oliver could appreciate it for what it was.

“Alright, fine.  I mean, I suppose there’s no stopping him, is there?”

“Doubt it.  He’ll want to do some posh dinner, which Sam loves anyway.  And he’s charming.  Dad will love him.”

Oliver couldn’t know that for sure.  He’d never had a frank talk with his father about his preferences, and although his father was had been least a little aware of his relationship with Gabe, it had never been discussed openly.

“Anyway, Sam also texted and said he’d be late tonight, and to eat without him.  I was thinking pizza.”

“Yeah, alright,” Oliver said absently as his mind went back to picturing his defense panel.  “Whatever you want.”

Leo snickered a little into his tea, then wandered off to leave Oliver to his fretting.  He moved to the sofa, drawing his legs up to his chest, and stared off into the distance.

That was how Sam found his boyfriend four hours later. 

It was nearing eleven when Sam finally walked in, looking exhausted and a little surprised to see Oliver still up.  He was curled up on the couch, the worried expression still marring his face.

Sam quickly shrugged off his coat, stepping around a pizza box left carelessly on the floor, and sat down a cushion away from his boyfriend.  “Alright there, cariad?”

“As I can be,” Oliver muttered.  He hadn’t looked over, but when Sam reached out to grab his thigh, he didn’t pull away.  “Work late?”

“Sharon was up my arse almost literally about this fucking footie piece.  Made me go down to that disgusting pub, you know where they all go for drinks after?  Once they saw my press badge, it was like rabid dogs or something.”

“Should’ve got pissed,” Oliver said, the absent tone still hanging on his words.  “Would have made it more bearable.”

“So is coming home sober enough to snog my boyfriend,” Sam pointed out.

Oliver turned his head slowly, unable to stop a slow grin.  “Oh?  Is that what you had in mind?”

“Unless you want to continue your worrying?”

Rolling his eyes, Oliver shifted over and twisted his fingers into the front of Sam’s shirt.  He pulled him in, kissing him deeply for a few moments.  “You taste like smoke.”

“Yeah well, I got that one center-forward from Chelsea to give me an exclusive as long as I smoked half a pack of those Turkish cigs with him.  Honestly, I feel a bit high.”

Oliver laughed and shook his head.  “You’re ridiculous.”  He tugged Sam down and kissed him again.  “You want to go to bed?”

“I thought your plan was to get absolutely no sleep and worry for the next three days.”

Oliver lifted his eyebrows.  “Who said anything about sleep, eh?”

Sam’s eyes instantly went darker as he rose, dragging Oliver with him.  They kissed once more before Sam propelled Oliver backward down the hall, and into the bedroom.  He closed it with a soft click, flicking the lock just to be safe, and turned as Oliver was pulling his shirt up over his head.

Licking his lips, Sam began to wriggle out of his pub-smelling clothes, leaving them on a pile on the floor near the bed as he took several, careful steps toward his lover.  His long, pale fingers ghosted up Oliver’s stomach, pausing to swirl around his nipples before lowering his head and running the flat of his tongue along the hard nub.

Oliver groaned quietly, tipping his head back as Sam’s mouth worked a trail up toward his neck, sucking dully at the sensitive skin just under his ear.  “Want you,” Oliver moaned.

“What a coincidence,” Sam said, and grabbed Oliver’s wrist, bringing the other man’s hand to the bulge in his boxers.  “It seems like I feel the same way.”

“You’re an idiot,” Oliver said with a laugh as he flopped back down on the bed.  Sam knelt between his knees, gently palming Oliver’s erection through the thin cloth, and leaned his head down for a slow kiss.

Their tongues slid against one another, hot and needy, and Oliver moaned again, right into Sam’s mouth.  “Want you inside me.”

This time Oliver’s groan was loud, all thoughts of waking his brother gone.  The only thing that mattered right then was getting Sam on his back, legs in the air, and cock inside him.  “Grab the…the…” Oliver barely managed as Sam slid his hand into Oliver’s boxers.  “
Fuck
.”  Sam began to stroke him with a firm, up and down motion, thumbing the top of his cock with each pull.

With his free hand, Sam groped around the drawer for the lube and condoms, wasting no more time.  He didn’t protest when Oliver flipped them over, or when Oliver squirted the lube onto Sam’s hand.  “Go on.  I want to watch you.”

Sam threw his head back, groaning even louder than Oliver had as he put one hand between his legs and began to prepare himself.  Oliver watched, licking his lips hungrily, barely suppressing a needy tremble.

He didn’t last long before shoving Sam’s hand away and slicking himself up over the condom.  Holding Sam’s legs behind the knees, Oliver pressed against him, and looked into his eyes.  “Ready for me?”

“More than. 
Please
,” Sam begged.  “Fuck me.”

Oliver gave a wolfish smile as he pushed forward, hard and fast the way Sam liked it.  His pulse raced at the sight of Sam’s head thrown back, a blush crawling across his cheeks.  His mouth was open, panting as he thrust his hips in time with Oliver’s canting.  “Good,” he groaned.  “Good, yes.”

Sam gave as good as he got, enthusiastic and needy as he reached between them to stroke himself.  The sight of him, the feel of Sam’s insides trembling and tightening around him, Oliver didn’t last long.  His head dipped forward and with a few, hard thrusts, he spilled into the rubber.

He was vaguely aware of Sam coming shortly after, a groan and a shiver.  Oliver took a moment to appreciate how delicious his boyfriend looked before pulling out and carefully tying the condom off.  He tossed it into the bin, then collapsed on the pillow.  A small smile crossed his face as Sam drew him close, pressing several kisses across his cheeks.

“That was amazing.”

“Mm,” Oliver agreed, unable to keep his eyes open.  “Knackered now, too.  I owe you one.”

“Maybe later,” Sam said, sounding muzzy with impending sleep.

All thoughts of worry and stress about the thesis and defense drifting away, Oliver let the warm arms and gentle breath of Sam lull him to sleep.