by Ally Blue
At that, Sam’s control snapped. He jumped to his feet, crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed Bo by the shoulders. “We weren’t even supposed to be there, Bo! You fucking dragged us out there, then you have the fucking nerve to tell me I’m not doing my job?” He shoved Bo hard against the wall, then let go and backed away. “Fuck you.”
Bo stood stock-still, hands hanging by his sides, eyeing Sam warily. “You wanted to go as much as I did.”
“Yeah, I wanted to go, sure. The difference is, it wouldn’t have bothered me if we didn’t go. You just wouldn’t fucking leave it alone.”
Silence. They stared at each other, neither speaking. Neither giving any ground. Suddenly Sam felt horribly tired. Turning away, he went to the sliding glass doors, opened them and walked out onto the porch.
He leaned against the rail and gazed into the darkness. The night air felt wonderfully cool on his face. He could smell the ocean, could hear the whisper of the waves on the sand, but he couldn’t see a thing past the glow of light spilling across the sand from the house. A thick cloud cover had rolled in over the last couple of hours, obscuring the moon and stars. The blackness mirrored Sam’s mood.
Footsteps sounded behind him. He didn’t turn around, but when Bo’s arms enclosed him, he laid his hands over Bo’s and leaned back into his lover’s embrace.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” Bo murmured against Sam’s ear. “You’re right, we were only there because I insisted. I had no right to accuse you of not doing your job. Especially when you’re one of the most conscientious workers I’ve ever known.”
“No, you really didn’t have any right to say that to me.” Sam lifted one of Bo’s hands and kissed his knuckles. “I have to tell you the truth here. It really worried me that you wouldn’t even consider the possibility of what you experienced having any kind of significance. After Oleander House, and especially after that thing bit you at South Bay High, I’d think you’d at least want to keep an open mind. You could be in danger here.”
“What kind of danger are you afraid of, Sam?” Bo tilted his head sideways and rested his cheek against Sam’s shoulder. “I don’t feel as if my safety is threatened, if that makes you feel any better.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Then tell me what you’re afraid is going to happen to me. Help me understand.”
Sam stared into the night, trying to find the words to articulate his fears. Everything he could think of to say sounded paranoid, even to him.
“I don’t know,” he admitted at last. “It’s just that you’ve never had any experiences like that before, and this one just happened to be exactly like my dream. When that happened at Oleander House, when we all had the same dreams, Amy died.”
Bo’s arms tightened around Sam’s waist. “This isn’t the same. Whatever it was that happened to me at the fort, it was only for a second. I didn’t actually see anything, I just felt as if I were somewhere else. Something like that can be attributed to a thousand different causes.”
“What about what Cecile and Andre felt?”
“You didn’t feel it, and you’re the one who’s usually the most sensitive to the…” Bo trailed off, his body shifting. “To changes in a place’s energy. Even without your senses in full use, I’m positive you would’ve noticed if it were anything strong enough to be dangerous. Besides, Cecile and Andre both agreed that it’s difficult to get an accurate psychic reading at the fort.”
Sam laughed in spite of himself. “There’s no such thing as an ‘accurate’ psychic reading.”
Bo’s soft chuckle vibrated against Sam’s back. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah.” Turning in Bo’s arms, Sam framed Bo’s face in his hands. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m letting past experiences cloud my judgment in this case.”
“That’s all it is.” Bo’s hands covered Sam’s, holding Sam’s palms to his cheeks. “After all we’ve been through in the past few months with the portals, I can’t really blame you.” He leaned forward and pressed a swift kiss to Sam’s lips. “I’m not in any danger at the fort, Sam. None of us are.”
Sam wasn’t sure he believed that, but he had to admit Bo had a point. It was possible that Sam’s mind, fueled by memories of Bo’s near death, was making connections that weren’t there.
Dropping his hands to Bo’s hips, Sam pulled him close. “Just promise me you’ll tell me if you have any more of those visions, okay?”
“Hallucinations,” Bo corrected with a grin. He molded his body to Sam’s. “Let’s go to bed.”
One of Bo’s legs slipped between Sam’s. A firm thigh pressed against his balls. Sam gulped. “Promise me first.”
For a second, Bo’s eyes hardened. Then his mouth curved into the smile that always made Sam’s knees weak. Bo stepped back, letting his hands slide down to grasp Sam’s. “Whatever you want, Sam. Now come to bed.”
Sam’s feet were moving before he gave them permission, led by the promise of a different sort in Bo’s smile. He followed Bo inside, shut the door and drew the curtains.
Later, lying wide awake with Bo sleeping beside him, Sam realized Bo hadn’t promised him anything at all.
***
Sam jolted awake, his heart slamming against his ribs. The first dawn light leaked around the curtains to lend a dim illumination to the room. Sam sat up and looked around, trying to figure out what had woken him. The dream he’d been yanked out of was just as horrible as the one from the previous morning, but it wasn’t what had disturbed Sam’s sleep. It was something else, some sort of noise or movement in the bedroom.
A low, ragged moan drifted from the pile of covers bunched on the other side of the bed. Bo’s body jerked, throwing off the corner of the bedspread which had obscured his face. His brows were drawn together in fear or pain, or both. Little whimpers bled from his open mouth. When Sam laid a hand on Bo’s bare shoulder, he could feel Bo trembling.
Sam frowned. In the short time he’d shared Bo’s bed, the man had never suffered nightmares. The fact that he seemed to be having one now of all times made Sam feel cold all over.
“Bo, wake up.” He gave Bo’s shoulder a shake.
With a sharp cry, Bo shot to a sitting position, panting like he’d just sprinted a mile. His wide-eyed gaze darted around the room. The fear melted from his eyes when they met Sam’s.
“Fuck.” He flopped onto his back. “God, I’m glad you woke me up.”
“You’ve never had nightmares before,” Sam pointed out, keeping his tone carefully neutral. He lay down beside Bo and propped himself up on one elbow. “What was it about?”
“Damned if I know.” Bo tugged at a lock of tangled black hair lying across his chest. “I don’t remember anything specific. Just…weird images. They were terrifying when I was dreaming them, but I couldn’t even tell you what they were now.”
“Strangely enough, I just woke up from another dream like I had yesterday morning. And now you’re having them too.” Sam licked his lips, hoping his next words didn’t touch off an angry tirade. “Was this nightmare anything like what you saw at the fort?”
“Not really, except for the general sense of fear, and not being able to breathe properly.” Bo darted a pointed look at him. “I know what you’re thinking, Sam, but I really don’t believe the two are related. I don’t usually have nightmares, that’s true, but I have had a few in my life. The hallucinations I had last night probably triggered one, that’s all.”
A hard chill raced up Sam’s spine. “I thought you said it only happened once.”
“It did.”
“Then why did you just say ‘hallucinations’, plural, like it happened more than once?”
A muscle twitched in Bo’s jaw. “I didn’t mean to say that. I meant to say ‘hallucination’, singular.”
“But—”
“For God’s sake, Sam, drop it!”
Anger and frustration boiled up inside Sam and bubbled over. He kept his voice calm with an effort. “I will not drop it.
This is important. I’m sure of it.”
Sighing, Bo pressed both palms to his eyes. “Look. I know you’re worried, and I understand why. But one strange feeling during the investigation and one nightmare do not add up to anything dangerous, or even concerning.”
“Even though I had a very similar dream yesterday morning, and again just now?” Sam persisted. “Even after the dreams at Oleander House?”
“This is nothing like Oleander House.” Turning onto his side, Bo folded an arm beneath his head and gazed into Sam’s eyes with a pleading expression. “Don’t you think I’d tell you if I felt this was anything to worry about? Do you really think I’d put everyone in danger by keeping it to myself?”
“No, of course not.” Sam tucked Bo’s hair behind his ear, fingers brushing his neck. “But I don’t think you’re seeing this situation clearly.”
Bo’s fingers curled, bunching the sheet between them. He looked away. “What makes you think I’m not being clearheaded about this?”
“I don’t know, exactly.” It was hard for Sam to say, but it was true. He couldn’t lie to Bo, no matter how difficult it might be to tell the truth. “All I know is, you’re not acting like yourself. And that worries me.”
With an impatient noise, Bo kicked the covers aside and started to get up. Sam wrapped both arms around his waist and rolled on top of him, pinning him to the bed.
“Let me up,” Bo growled, dark eyes flashing.
“No.”
“Sam…”
Fisting a hand in Bo’s hair, Sam leaned down and kissed him until the angry tension melted from his body and his mouth opened beneath Sam’s.
The kiss went on for endless, blissful minutes. Sam didn’t break it until Bo’s legs opened to cradle Sam in the space between his thighs. Drawing back, Sam stared down into Bo’s heavy-lidded eyes. Bo’s pupils were dilated, his breath coming short and quick. The sight made Sam’s chest ache.
“I love you,” Sam said, putting his whole heart into the simple sentiment. “Maybe these dreams and visions of yours mean something, and maybe they don’t. I think they do, but I don’t know for sure. All I know is, I’ll do anything to keep you safe. Even risk you hating me.”
The lingering anger in Bo’s eyes faded into a familiar affection. He reached up and laid both palms on Sam’s cheeks. “I could never hate you. I’m grateful every single day to have you in my life.”
Sam’s throat closed up. He couldn’t say what he felt right then, but he thought Bo understood.
Bo’s gaze dipped to Sam’s mouth. When he looked up again, lust had replaced the tenderness in his eyes. Sam’s body responded with a predictable rush of desire. He tilted his hips, rubbing his naked prick against Bo’s equally bare crotch. Bo moaned, low and rough. His thighs slid against Sam’s ribs, one heel lodging in the small of Sam’s back. Sam could feel Bo’s cock filling, the hardness pressing against Sam’s own growing erection.
A tiny corner of Sam’s brain wanted to disentangle himself from Bo’s arms and legs and continue the conversation Sam was beginning to realize Bo had successfully distracted him from. But the clutch of Bo’s limbs around him, the increasingly frantic movement of Bo’s hips and the needy little sounds he made, silenced that part of Sam’s mind. One arm beneath Bo’s neck and the other braced on the bed, Sam took Bo’s mouth in a bruising kiss as they thrust against one another.
It was over far too fast. Bo shook and whimpered when he came, his teeth digging into Sam’s shoulder as his semen spread between them and mingled with Sam’s. Sam collapsed onto his side with Bo still plastered against him. He pressed a kiss to Bo’s forehead and let his eyes close.
When Sam woke again, late morning light flooded the room. Bo was gone. Once again, nothing had been resolved between them. With a deep sigh, Sam hauled himself out of bed and went to get dressed.
Chapter Six
Jogging along in the humid shade of the live oaks lining the footpath, Sam stared at Bo’s bare back with a mixture of irritation and longing. Dragging Bo away from evidence review for a run had been hard. Convincing him to try the recreational pathways through the nearby public park instead of running to the fort again had been even worse. Bo had eventually agreed, but only after Sam accused him of having an unhealthy obsession with the fort.
He hadn’t spoken a word to Sam since. They’d run in silence, with Bo staying several strides ahead. Sam couldn’t help but wonder if keeping Bo away from everything to do with the case had been worth it. He missed their usual camaraderie, the way they’d tease and prod each other to keep up the pace and pass the time.
Stop blaming yourself. He’s the one being unreasonable. He is obsessed with the Fort Medina case, he just won’t admit it. It’s not your fault he’s acting like a child.
Bo turned a sharp corner of the path and disappeared from Sam’s view. Wiping the sweat from his eyes, Sam forced his feet to move faster. His limbs felt slow and heavy in the sticky afternoon heat. He and Bo were usually pretty evenly matched in their running pace, but today Sam struggled constantly to keep up with Bo. He didn’t know whether he was slower than usual or Bo was faster, but it was frustrating either way. For reasons he couldn’t define, he was anxious to keep Bo in sight.
Putting on a brief burst of speed, Sam rounded the bend. He nearly plowed into Bo, who was standing stiff and still in the middle of the path, head bowed and hands clenched at his sides. He didn’t even look up when Sam skidded to a halt beside him.
Sam touched Bo’s arm. “Bo? Are you okay?”
No answer. Heart galloping and mouth dry, Sam walked around until he could see Bo’s face. Bo’s eyes were wide and blank, staring at the ground.
Sam’s stomach knotted. He grabbed Bo’s shoulders. “Bo!”
Bo gave a violent start. His head snapped up. “What? What’s wrong?”
“You tell me.” Sam let go of Bo and stepped back, watching Bo’s face. “You were just standing there, staring at the ground. You didn’t even answer me when I asked if you were okay.”
Fear flashed through Bo’s eyes before his expression closed down. “Oh, that. I felt dizzy and sick all of a sudden, so I stopped. I heard you, I just couldn’t answer. I felt like I was going to pass out.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I didn’t mean to worry you. Sorry.”
He’s lying. To Sam’s knowledge, Bo hadn’t lied to him about anything in months. Not since the first days they’d known each other, when Bo had tried to deny his sexuality and his attraction to Sam. It was disheartening to think he would do so now, but Sam was certain that was exactly what he was doing.
“It must be the heat,” Sam said, and wondered why he wasn’t confronting Bo with his deception. Maybe he was just tired of fighting. “Let’s sit down and let you cool off for a minute. You can have the rest of my water.”
They walked over to a nearby bench half-hidden in the trees and sat. Sam handed Bo his mostly full water bottle. Bo’s fingers brushed Sam’s as he took it, sending sparks up Sam’s arm. Bo put the bottle to his lips, tilted his head back and drank. Sam watched his throat work and had to fight off the urge to gather Bo into his arms and plaster kisses to his sweat-slick skin.
Bo lowered the bottle with a sigh and leaned back against the bench. “Thanks. That helped. I guess I was setting too hard a pace for this heat.”
“It’s supposed to be a record high for today’s date.” Sam stared into the shadows beneath the oaks. A squirrel darted through the undergrowth and raced up a tree with a scrabble of claws on bark. “Want to go for a swim when we get back?”
Bo was silent for a moment. Sam clasped his hands together so hard his knuckles turned white. Please say yes. Don’t go back to helping review the evidence from last night. Just spend some time with me, please, please…
“Okay, sure. A swim’ll be perfect today.”
Turning, Sam caught Bo’s gaze. Bo’s smile thawed some of the apprehension lodged like a ball of ice in Sam’s gut.
Sam took Bo’s hand in hi
s and squeezed. “Thank you.”
“What for?” Bo asked, his expression puzzled.
For not brushing me off so you could work on the case. For putting us first for a change.
Sam swallowed. “For spending time with me today. It means a lot to me.”
Without even checking to see if anyone was around, Bo leaned forward and captured Sam’s mouth in a swift, hungry kiss. He nipped Sam’s lip as they drew apart, and rested his forehead against Sam’s.
“I want to spend time with you,” Bo murmured, long fingers caressing Sam’s cheek. “I love you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a prick lately. I don’t know why I’ve been acting that way.”
It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to bring up Bo’s dreams and visions, but he kept it to himself. He didn’t want to dredge up that argument again, just when Bo seemed to be coming back to him. He didn’t have anything concrete to go on anyway, merely a vague sense of connection between Fort Medina and the strange things Bo had experienced. There was no reason to suspect that any of it had anything to do with the interdimensional gateways, or the things living on the other side. The fact that Sam believed it did probably said more about his own state of mind than anything else.
Staring into Bo’s eyes, Sam made a silent vow not to bring it up again until he had solid evidence, something Bo’s scientific mind couldn’t ignore. With any luck, there wouldn’t be any need for such evidence. Sam hoped not, because finding concrete proof would mean Bo was in danger, and Sam didn’t want to face that again.
Forcing a smile, Sam pulled back. “You feeling better now? Ready to head back?”
“Yes, on both counts.” Bo stood, one hand on Sam’s shoulder to steady himself. “Let’s keep the pace slow this time. I’m a little shaky still.”
“Sure thing. You were almost too fast for me to keep up with you before.” Sam rose, lifting Bo’s hand from his shoulder and winding their fingers together. He kissed Bo’s knuckles before letting go. “Would you rather walk?”