Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

Sam got as far as the trees outside the cabin before he kicked something. Unfortunately it was a tree trunk, and it hurt like a fucker, but at least it focused him.

Friends. Yeah, that would work.

Determined, he turned right and up toward Jay and Nate's place. They wouldn't have left for Carter's yet, and he'd force them to take him to the bar, right now, and he could work off some of this misplaced lust.

And if they weren't there, then he'd call a cab, because he sure as hell was going to get shitfaced tonight and not be able to drive.

"Sam!"

He stopped at the sound of his name, tension crawling into his mind as he turned to face Justin, who was hurrying up the path.

"What?" Sam said. "I have places to go."

Justin looked past him to Jay and Nate's place. "Fuck, Sam," he said with heat.

"What?"

"Don't go with Nate and Jay."

"Seriously, what?"

"I'll fuck you," Justin said a little desperately.

Sam looked at him steadily as Justin stepped closer; only moonlight showed the pathway. Had he heard Justin right? "Sorry?"

"Don't go to that bar. If you need something, I'll give it to you. You don't have to look at me, but I could make it good for you, and you wouldn't be with a random stranger."

Sam opened his mouth to ask what the hell Justin was talking about, and then just as quickly shut it. Didn't Justin realize that Sam's being with him to save—what? Sam's virtue?—was the last thing he wanted. "Let me think—" He tapped a finger to his lips. "—fuck off." He said heatedly and resumed walking up the hill.

Justin reached him in a couple of steps and yanked urgently at his shirt. "I don't know how to do this."

"Justin, I don't want you touching me."

"Please, Sam, this is stupid."

Sam stabbed him again with a finger. "You kissed me, and then you jumped out of my window. You haven't spoken to me much since that night. Hell, you go out of your way to avoid me."

"I don't know what to say to you."

"How about ‘hey Sam, how are you?'"

"We're past that!"

"Are we?"

Justin placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "What we had back at the cabin?—"

"You were mostly unconscious." Sam shrugged off his hand.

"We connected. You grounded me. You made me think that I could stop, that I could be something else."

The conversation was moving so fast that Sam couldn't keep up. "But you didn't stop. You left to finish your list. Which, hey, I understand, you needed closure. But you aren't exactly warm and fuzzy now you're done."

"What do you expect from me?" Justin snapped. "I didn't get to the end of the list, okay? I found Jamie, the last one, and he was… hell, he was a victim too, and I worked hard, okay? I made deals, all so I could come home. And Sam, I'm not sure I'll ever be warm and fuzzy."

Sam shook his head, clearing his thoughts, and yelped a little as Justin manhandled him into the trees, pressing him back against the nearest trunk and bracketing Sam's head with his hands.

Sam should feel nervous, right? Justin was all coiled power behind that young face, all lethal and focused, and right now all that focus was on Sam. And hell if that wasn't entirely too much for his body and brain to handle. He was hard, desperately hard, and all he wanted… everything he wanted… was right in front of him. He remembered the weight of Justin, the shape of his cock, the taste of his lips, and he wanted it again.

"I need you," Justin said, his lips only inches away from Sam's own. "To make things right in my head, to balance my life, to be my everything, to give me hope. And all I'm doing is fucking things up."

"Justin—"

"But I don't know what to say, or how to get you to see that, or even think that I deserve you."

Sam dragged him in for a kiss, fisting Justin's shirt and swallowing any further words. He wasn't going to listen to another reason why they couldn't do this. At first Justin attempted to pull away, but Sam didn't let go, insistently pressing his tongue to the seam of Justin's mouth.

Then Justin groaned and kissed back.

At last.

Justin's taste was intoxicating, heat and promise, and for a while he let Sam set the pace before stepping closer and pressing Sam to the tree, pinning him there with his body a little off- center, pushing his thigh between Sam's legs until they were firmly slotted together. Sam raised himself up a little, he was shorter, the fit not quite right, until Justin slumped, took Sam's weight, and forced him back. And there—that was just right.

They were hard, and Sam scrambled to find a hold, moving his hands around Justin's back, over his hard muscles, and up to his neck, linking his hands there and holding on for the ride. Justin cradled his face, tilted his head, and took control of the kiss, and it was more than Sam had hoped for.

They parted every so often for breath, and although it was too dark to read Justin's expression, Sam knew exactly how he felt and what he wanted, just by the way he wasn't letting Sam go.

For the first time in his life, Sam might just get off on kissing alone, but Justin had other ideas. He pulled back from the kiss—just his face, nothing else moved—and slowly rolled his hips. Sam keened.

"Can we take this indoors?" Justin asked.

Sam tightened his hold around Justin's neck. "Will you change your mind between here and there?" The question was a fair one. He didn't want Justin to have time to think ever again.

Justin eased away, supporting Sam's weight as he pulled away from the tree. "I promise you, I need you horizontal."

In silence, they trekked down the hill toward Branches.

"This way." Sam led them to the rear of the building. Inside, Ashley was visible cleaning tables; it was her late night, and Sam wasn't surprised that Gabe was there too, helping her. So much for the wedding preparation excuse to get out of dinner.

Sam unlocked the back door, let Justin in, and locked it behind them.

They climbed the stairs to Sam's small apartment. Only they didn't get far. Justin kissed Sam on step three, had his shirt off by step five, and was sucking heated marks to his skin before they even reached the top.

Not that Sam was hanging around. He wanted flesh as much as Justin did, and he pushed hands under Justin's T-shirt, finding soft skin and pushing the shirt up and over Justin's head. It caught on his neck and Justin laughed, a genuine laugh, and it was a lovely thing to hear.

They stumbled into Sam's bedroom. Sam didn't even care that his bed was unmade or his clothes were hanging off the back of a chair, all he focused on was Justin walking him backward to the bed without stopping kissing, his hands hooked in Sam's belt.

"We have too many clothes on," Justin murmured.

Sam's legs hit the bed and he tumbled back. Justin stalked him to the mattress, crowded him and covered him, and all the time, kissed him as if they were never going to kiss again. They somehow eased higher up the bed; Justin was a lot stronger than his slim frame showed. Then he was back at Sam's belt, opening it, all the time kissing while loosening the buttons, his hand inside Sam's boxers, closing his fingers around Sam's cock.

The kissing stopped. Abruptly, Justin eased up a little and away, and rested his forehead on Sam's own.

"Justin?"

Justin moved his hand, twisted it just so, and then eased down material with his other hand. Sam wriggled, doing his best to help, until his jeans and boxers were down to his knees, imprisoning his legs and fully exposing him to Justin's heated gaze.

"Need you so much," Justin muttered, arching his back as he spoke. With no finesse but with absolute focus, he swallowed Sam down.

Sam heard himself yell something, anything, a random noise of passion that escaped him, uncontrolled.

Justin released the suction just long enough to demand, "Your hands in my hair." He waited until, shakily, Sam pressed his fingers into the soft blond. Justin pressed against the hands and Sam got with the program. He twisted his fingers, finding purchase in hair that was longer than he remembered from the cabin. Then, as Justin sucked him down, Sam tugged tighter and got an answering groan from Justin.

How the hell was he going to last? Justin's hands pressed on Sam's hipbones, pushing him into the mattress. Sam's legs were in a prison of denim, his balls trapped, and the tension exquisite. If he stopped to consider what the most erotic thing ever was, it would be that.

Sam tightened his hold on Justin's hair the closer he got, but he didn't want to lose it so fast, so he pulled Justin up and away, ignoring his murmurs of complaint and yanking him up to kiss again. "All of it. Off."

Justin rolled off the bed, stripped in record time, then reached for the small lamp next to the bed; he turned it off, plunging the room into darkness. Sam was way too far gone to ask what the hell was going on, too close to the edge to tell Justin he wanted to watch everything.

Justin was back, caging him on the bed. More kissing and Sam lost himself in clutching Justin's hair and rocking against him.

"So close." Justin's voice was ragged.

Sam loosened the grip of one of his hands and ran it across Justin's back, his fingers smooth over the ridges there, then rested it on his ass. There was scarred skin there too, and Sam pressed his hand firmly to the area and urged Justin on. "More."

Justin was happy to push for more, groaning as he pressed and retreated, lifting a little between Sam's spread legs and sliding his cock behind Sam's balls. The head of his cock nudged Sam's asshole, and the thought of Justin being there, pushing inside him and fucking him into the bed, was too much.

Sam's orgasm was explosive. His shout of completion was lost in the kiss. Justin followed soon after, shooting the heat of his come onto Sam's balls and his ass.

Justin fell onto Sam and lay there, spent, and Sam held on tight.

Never letting him go.

At some point, Justin made a half-hearted attempt to clean them up, and then he lay back in the one place Sam wanted him—right between Sam's legs, covering him.

"You turned the light out," Sam observed.

Justin nodded, stole a heated kiss, and then pulled back a little. "Habit."

"To hide the scars, you mean? You know I don't think anything about them."

Even as he said it, Sam considered how Justin could know that. It wasn't as if he'd gone out of his way to talk about how brave Justin had been or how much pain he must have been in. So to give credence to what he was saying, Sam wrapped his hands around Justin's back and held him tight before caressing the scars, running his fingers over every raised bump. He wanted to show Justin with actions instead of trying to put everything into words.

"The scars are one thing, but it isn't just that." Justin's breath was warm against his skin. "When you're with someone like this, there's no way to hide what's in your head, and I don't want anyone inside my mind."

Sam refused to take that personally, because he had every intention of getting inside there. Then he felt inspired. He wriggled out from under Justin, who flopped on his back, his arms over his head.

Sam drew the drapes first, something they should have done when they first got in the room. Who knew who could see in the window, even this high up? Then he moved around the bed, tripping only once, and turned on the small lamp before rummaging in the top drawer and triumphantly holding up lube and condoms.

Justin quirked an eyebrow.

Sam scrambled back onto the bed, sitting next to Justin, who had his back against snowy white pillows. "Let's do this." He made it a statement so there was no debate about what he wanted.

Justin rolled onto his side and looked up at him. "Sam?"

Sam nodded. "I need this, and I want to show you something you've been missing in the dark. Just promise me something."

"What?" Justin looked suspicious.

"No touching. Not until I say so."

Justin's suspicion turned to a frown. "Okay…."

Sam insisted. "Promise me."

"Fuck, I promise."

Sam shuffled a little; finding exactly the right position, then coated the fingers of his right hand liberally and moved them to his ass. All the while he fixed his gaze on Justin. He eased the first finger inside—just the tip. A sigh left his body, unbidden.

"Shit." Justin scrambled up and reached for Sam, but at Sam's pointed look, he dropped his hands into fists. Sam watched him carefully. Need and lust were clear in Justin's expression, and boy, did Sam put on a show. With every press and stretch, he moaned and writhed, and the state of Justin's cock was evidence of how much he was into it too.

"Want me to add more?" Sam asked when he had three fingers stretching him. From this angle he wouldn't be able to add any more, but Justin could.

Justin nodded, stared up at him.

"You can touch. Help me." Once Sam gave his permission, Justin moved so fast that it would have been funny if Sam weren't so needy.

Justin moved closer and kissed him soundly, and that right there made Sam's heart swell. It was more than sex; it was connection… more even than that.

Justin pressed one of his fingers in beside Sam's and abruptly it was game on.

They laughed and pushed, and when Sam rolled a condom on Justin, he couldn't believe he had him here in his bed. Sam tried to move onto all fours, but Justin stopped him, kissed him hard, and moved up the bed until his knees spread Sam's thighs. He pushed a pillow under Sam's ass.

"Want to kiss you." Justin added lube and pushed inside a little, closing his eyes; the veins on his neck were prominent as he forced himself to go slow.

Sam whimpered at the first press, at feeling the head as it breached. He arched his neck.

"Too much?" Justin's voice was ragged with need.

Sam pressed down against Justin's hard cock and it slipped farther in. "Not enough," he whispered.

As they kissed, Justin pushed inside. Only when he finally bottomed out did he rear back a little, looking down at Sam as if he was experiencing something mind-blowing.

"I came back hoping for you," Justin admitted. He pulled back, and then pushed inside.

Sam gripped the back of Justin's head, twisting his fingers in his hair. "I'm so fucking happy you did."

Then there was no talking, only kissing, the sound of skin on skin, and an intense orgasm that wrung Sam dry.

When Justin followed, he sighed his completion and went rigid in Sam's arms before burying his face against Sam's throat.

"No," he whispered. "Thank you."

They lay quietly in each other's arms.

"What is wrong with you?" Justin asked.

"In what way?" Sam stretched a little and curled back against Justin.

"You didn't run. Ever. Even when you knew what I'd done, that I'd killed people."

"Bad guys."

"Fuck, Sam, this isn't the movies."

"No, I get that." Sam opened his eyes, and as quick as that, Justin was lost in the blue again. "The movies don't have real flawed heroes. They have caricatures—men who blow shit up, kill henchmen, and dramatically end the bad guy's life. They have it easy. You're the kind of man who is a hero without even realizing it."

Justin huffed. "Yeah, right."

Sam gripped his hair tight. "One day I'll make you realize it."