He hated himself for thinking about stealing from her, hated it even more because he knew what she’d had to do to earn that money in that yellow plastic canister. He would have put it back. Tried to anyway. Maybe Benny had some odd job somewhere that Brody could do for a little something. Benny usually had pills. A couple of Xanax would be good. Mellow him out a little.
“I’ve got to go out,” he mumbled. “I’ll be back later.” He threw the rumpled jeans back into the basket of laundry.
“Where are you going?” She sounded like an old mother hen. How could he possibly be in love with a woman who interrogated him, demanding to know where he was going? He was a grown fucking man, and it was none of her business.
“Just out. Maybe I’ll go look for a job,” he lied. Angel had put in a few applications already, so she might buy this story.
She pursed her lips, and Brody was fairly sure she knew he wasn’t telling the truth.
“You’re not going to look for a job,” she said. “Even if you really wanted to, you aren’t ready yet. You can’t even fold a pair of pants, for Christ’s sake!”
“I promised I’d get a job.” That much was the truth. Promises, he was full of them. Keeping them was another matter.
She laid her hand on his arm. “You know what? You should take Sam out to breakfast when he gets home from work. That little diner down the street looks like a nice place.” She began to chatter on about putting in an application there and how she hoped she got the job.
Brody tried not to look at her like she was completely insane. “How am I gonna afford that?”
“I’ll give you the money to do it.”
He shook his head. The idea of her giving him money felt just as wrong as him thinking about stealing it. “I can’t take your money.”
“He’d like it if you took him out.”
Sam would like a lot of things. Things Brody was incapable of giving him. Brody took a deep breath and tried to count to ten, but he only got as far as eight. “Look! I’m not taking your money. If you want to do something useful with that money, how about springing for a fucking bottle of wine?”
Angel flung a shirt down and stomped over to the refrigerator. She grabbed the container and threw it at him. It hit him squarely in the chest and then fell to the floor at his feet. The lid popped off, and a few bills fluttered out.
“Take it. Take it all. Spend it on whatever the fuck you want. There’s still a good bit there. Make sure you get some good shit.”
Even if he’d still wanted to take the money, right now he was incapable of holding it. The tremors in his hands seemed to resonate through his entire body as he bent and tried to pick it up to put it away.
The apartment door creaked open behind him, and he knew Sam was home. Nothing like an awkward situation becoming even more awkward.
“What’s going on?” Sam pulled his coat off, shaking snow away.
“Brody’s going shopping,” Angel said.
“Fuck this. I don’t need this shit.” Brody clenched his hands together tightly, trying to ease their shaking. “I’m so tired of this.”
Sam set a large bag down on the table. It too was covered with snow, and Brody glanced over at the window. It was coming down hard outside. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. It didn’t help. The world around him blurred until all he saw was white. His head felt weird, and bright flashes of light began to pulse before his eyes.
“I bought this…for you. For the cat.” Sam wiped water from the melting snowflakes off the chipped Formica tabletop with the palm of his hand.
Brody reached inside and pulled out a blue plastic tray. Inside of it was a bag of kitty litter and some canned cat food. For Krieger.
Brody’s chest tightened. It was an unexpected act. Brody knew he wasn’t capable of taking care of the cat on his own, not now, not the way he was. Half the time he couldn’t remember if he’d eaten himself. He couldn’t be counted on to take care of Krieger.
Everyone here wanted to help him, wanted to make him happy. It was too much. Sam had never seen him cry, and it was not going to happen now.
He pulled out a chair and sat down, resting his elbows on the table, holding his head in his hands.
“You okay, Brody?” Sam asked. “You don’t look too good.”
“Just…just having a bad morning.” Brody intentionally avoided Angel’s gaze. This isn’t her fault.
He picked up a can of food with a picture of a fancy, long-haired cat on the label. The way the ad executives at the company viewed that cat was the way he saw Krieger. Beautiful. Perfect, just as he was. The can slipped from his shaking hand and hit the floor. It rolled over beside the sofa.
Sam went to the bedroom. The window that led to the fire escape rasped open, and a few seconds later Krieger made an appearance at Brody’s feet. The cat promptly hopped onto Brody’s lap.
Sam picked up the litter pan and ripped open the pull string on the bag of litter.
“He’s ours now,” Sam said as he poured some litter into the pan. “He’s staying. I know how much you love this cat. I won’t listen to him cry outside anymore. If he pisses in here, he pisses in here. I’ll deal with it.”
Brody stroked the cat’s scarred head and glanced over at Angel’s face. He traced a scab beneath Krieger’s ear. Brody considered the sadness in her eyes. The girl never looked happy. Once maybe, the time when he’d walked in on Sam kissing her.
He knew he’d interrupted something. Some magical moment, something beyond just the two of them tasting each other’s mouths; there was something that went deeper than that. Something he wasn’t sure he could feel. Perhaps he could feel it, because he was certain that he did, but he had no idea how to act on those feelings, how to show Sam just how much he loved him. The intensity of his feelings for Angel further muddied the waters. Brody had never been able to convince Sam that he loved him when it was only the two of them. How could Sam possibly understand that there was room enough in Brody’s heart to love them both?
Angel needed someone to love her, and she deserved it. She deserved a whole lot more than someone like Brody. So did Sam. Maybe they should be together, without him in the way.
The two of them, Sam and Angel, they needed each other. Maybe if they weren’t so busy worrying over him, they would be able to see that.
He was always messing things up. Getting in the way. He’d ruined his parents’ marriage; not that he felt the least bit bad for his prick of a father, but his mom was another story. Now she was alone. She was alone because of him. That house had been hers, left to her by her father, and after Brody’s father had hit him hard enough to break Brody’s jaw, she had no trouble kicking his dad out. Brody had been ecstatic. It had been well worth the pain to be rid of the man who’d caused it.
He hated to think of her there now. By herself. It wasn’t like he could have stayed forever; kids were supposed to grow up, move out, have their own lives. But he still felt bad for going away.
Leaving wouldn’t solve things for Angel and Sam. If he was out on the streets, they would just be worried more, and there was no way he could be without Sam. Much as he hated to admit it to himself, drinking wasn’t going to help either. Neither was drugs, but damn, he wished he had some.
“I’m so sorry, Angel,” Brody said, listening to Krieger purring. “Sorry I’ve been such a dick.” He pressed his nose against the cat’s. “And Sam…I’m just generally sorry. Sorry I fucked up.” He swallowed hard, emotions nearly turning to tears. “I’m sorry to you too, Krieger. Sorry I’m too fucked-up to take good care of you.”
“I’ll help you take care of him, Brody,” Sam said. “It will be okay.”
Okay. There was that fucking word again.
“Why are you so nice to me, Sam? Why? I don’t understand. I’ve let you down over and over. I keep fucking things up, and you treat me like I’m some goddamned prize!” He slammed his hand on the table, hard enough to make his palm throb, and he focused on the pain in his hand, trying not to
let his other emotions out. Krieger leaped from his lap, digging the claws of his back feet into Brody’s thigh. The thumping in his head, the cat scratches on his leg, none of those could take his mind off how he really felt. He didn’t want to feel. Didn’t want to feel pain, didn’t want to remember that the world was fucked-up and that nothing was okay.
Angel picked up the money and put it back into the canister. The lid snapped on, and she set it down on the table beside him.
“I’ll help you too, if you want. We could make a chart. Just write down when he got fed or when his litter was changed.”
Brody stared at her. Such a perfect woman; all soft curves and compassion. She seemed much smaller and more vulnerable standing beside Sam.
There was a time in his life when he intentionally chose women like Angel. Woman who were sad. Women with low self-esteem. They were always more pliant, more eager to please. Behind Angel’s street-tough persona she was insecure. There was something more than what had happened to her that night he’d found her. Something had happened before that—long before that. Whatever it was, it had damaged her. Made her fragile and weak.
Brody didn’t want to exploit her weakness. She brought out a strange nurturing feeling in him. He wanted to protect her. He wanted to see her strong. Wanted to see her smile a real smile and make all that pain inside of her disappear.
Sam was the answer. The key to unlocking her pain and setting it free. Sam could change her. Maybe Brody could too, but he knew without a doubt that that girl would change if she knew how much Sam wanted her, if she could understand what a monumental thing it was that Sam wanted her.
Brody licked his dry lips. “Look, Angel, don’t ever leave, okay?”
She smiled at him, wet eyes shining like emeralds. “It will be all right, Brody,” she said in an annoyingly cheerful tone. “I’ll help you take care of Krieger as long as you want me to.”
“I don’t want you to take care of Krieger. I want you to take care of Sam.”
“I’m not the one who needs to be taken care of,” Sam said. He threw his hands up. “You know what? Fuck you, Brody! I realize the world revolves around you, but you could at least say thank you, even if you don’t mean it. You think I want a cat? No. I did this for you.”
Brody looked at him, seeing the hurt beneath Sam’s anger. Sam just wanted a thank-you. That was all. Why wouldn’t Brody give him one? Brody pressed his hand down on his stomach, trying not to think about how badly it hurt. It cramped again, and he suppressed a gag. Why did he have to feel like this?
The drugs…the fucking drugs… He needed something. Something. A blinding pain flared up in his temple.
“I’m sorry, Sam,” Brody heard himself say. His voice sounded strange to his own ears, like it was far away, floating in the wind. He slid from the chair and clumsily got on his knees. “Thank you,” he whispered. It wasn’t just a thank-you for cat food or a litter pan. He felt a rush of air as he slumped forward. Something hit his head, and a brilliant flash of light pulsed before his eyes. He tried to get up, but he couldn’t move. The carpet felt dirty and gritty beneath his cheek.
Angel was talking. Something about that diner again, but Brody couldn’t hear her right. It was just words, garbled and unintelligible.
Then he couldn’t hear her anymore. What if she wasn’t real? What if she really had died that night? Cold panic tightened his chest, and he couldn’t catch his breath.
He smelled something but wasn’t sure what it was. A thick, metallic taste permeated his mouth. Something hit him in the head and he bit his tongue, and the coppery taste of blood mingled with the other strange, metallic tang in his mouth.
Sam was helping him. When had he got on the floor? Nothing seemed right or real anymore. Maybe he was the one who was dead.
“I want to go home,” Brody mumbled. “I shouldn’t have left, shouldn’t have ever left. I wouldn’t be like this if I’d have stayed.”
“It’s okay, Brody,” Sam said. “I’m real proud of you. You’re doing good.”
The bed was soft beneath Brody’s back as Sam lowered him down on the mattress. Sam undressed him, and Brody’s cock stiffened in response to Sam’s touch against his bare skin. His whole body came alive beneath Sam’s calloused hands.
I’m alive. I’m alive, and as long as I’m alive, I can still feel. I can still love. I can change.
Brody fought to keep his eyes open. His vision seemed clouded with a gray fog, but when he managed to rise above that fog, he found his head cradled lovingly by Sam, who held a glass to Brody’s lips.
“Take a sip of water.” Sam’s deep voice seemed to make Brody’s whole body vibrate. Brody struggled to swallow the cold liquid, and he shivered as some ran down his chin and dribbled onto his bare chest. The sudden chill tightened his nipples. He sputtered and coughed until Sam took the glass away.
“You okay? I’m here.”
“I know you’re here. You’ve always been here, always been here for me.”
Sam’s hand slid down Brody’s side and rested on his hip. “I’ll always be here for you.”
Brody heard himself giggle. “You’re waking up the giant.”
“I see that.” Sam chuckled. “What’s got into you all of the sudden?”
“I know what I’d like to get into you.”
“I don’t think you’re quite ready for that yet,” Sam said. “Maybe later, if you’re feeling better.”
Brody blinked, looking at the ceiling, trying to focus. The room wobbled. The world had suddenly tilted on its axis, and everything was different. Brody was not in control right now. Sam was, and it felt good. It felt damn good.
“I love you, Brody.”
“Thank you.” Brody sighed as Sam’s mouth pressed against his.
“I love you,” Brody said loudly after Sam had kissed him.
Why not say it? Why not fucking scream it, shout it from the goddamn roof? It was true.
“I love you, Samson. I love you, Sam Marcello. I fucking love you.” He thought he heard Sam laugh. It was a pleasing sound. “What’s funny?”
“Nothing. It’s okay. You’re just a little out of it right now.”
“What did I do?” Brody couldn’t think straight. Shit. He’d done it, hadn’t he? Stole that girl’s money and ran out and bought some drugs. Now he couldn’t even remember what the hell he’d taken.
“Nothing, it’s okay.” Sam’s voice was soothing. “I think you must have had a seizure or something.” Sam stroked his hair. Goose bumps raced across Brody’s shoulders. “You bumped your head on the table leg. Does it hurt?”
“I don’t know.” Brody squeezed his eyes shut tight. It was hard to think of anything hurting right now while Sam was taking care of him like this. Sam kissed his neck, and his mouth moved slowly down Brody’s chest, kissing and nibbling a warm trail.
“This is nice,” Brody murmured. “I don’t know why you always want pain, Samson, not when this feels so fucking good.”
“What feels good, Brody?”
“This. You, touching me.”
Sam’s lips were suddenly warm on Brody’s stomach, and Brody whimpered like a starving puppy.
“Yes…please…”
“What, baby? What do you want?” Sam whispered, each word a warm caress on Brody’s skin.
“You.”
Sam reached under Brody, wedging one hand between him and the mattress, cupping Brody’s ass cheek. He leaned down and teased the head of Brody’s cock and licked in a slow circle. Brody’s cock grew harder, so hard that it ached. Sam cradled Brody’s balls in his other hand while he used just the tip of his tongue, swirling it over the slit in the head.
His beautiful Sam. Brody could dominate him, but in so many ways Sam was the one with all the power.
Brody found the top of Sam’s head with a shaking hand and grabbed a fistful of his thick, dark hair. Greed. Hunger in the pit of his stomach. The bristly stubble on Sam’s unshaven cheek jagged at the tender skin on Brody’s hip.
&
nbsp; Sam’s mouth closed over his cock, and Brody gasped as the heat enveloped him. Nothing had ever felt like this: the way Sam made him feel.
Sam’s calloused hands moved over Brody’s skin, stroking along his hips and ass. Sam drew a slow circle around Brody’s asshole and slid down, caressing the sensitive skin between his ass and balls, his mouth wrapped tight and warm around Brody’s throbbing cock.
Brody tightened his fingers in Sam’s hair. Aching, throbbing, and grinding, Brody arched his back. So close.
It took only a few more pitiful seconds before Brody felt his release begin. Red-hot pleasure surged through his body. He was soaked with sweat, and his heart pounded like there was a giant drum in his chest. His cock thumped in time with that drum, and he rocked his hips furiously. The world went white. Sam was swallowing noisily. Brody gasped for air, trying to catch his breath, and then he was in Sam’s arms. Kissing Sam. Tasting himself on Sam’s lips.
Cradled and safe.
A strange, hard lump welled in Brody’s throat. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“I want to make you come too.”
“No. This was about you. My Brody. This is just about you right now.”
The warmth of a tear streaked on Brody’s cheek. It was the first time he’d allowed himself to cry in front of another man since he was a child. He remembered his father’s words. “I’ll give you something to cry about, you little queer.”
That memory broke the dam inside of him, and Brody couldn’t stop despite his best efforts to hold back. He sobbed in earnest, salty tears rolling hot down his face, his voice rasping in his throat.
“I’m sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry I got like this…so sorry I’m nothing…”
“You aren’t nothing,” Sam said gently. “You’re the man I am in love with. I live for you, Brody.”
“I’d give you anything.” And he would. Like Angel. The girl that Brody wanted, because he knew Sam wanted her just as much.
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