Skyfall

Skyfall: Reboot Chapter 2

The story you are about to view contains content only suitable for adult readers and has gay themed sexual descriptions. Please forward your comments to operidot1919@gmail.com. Donate to Nifty! (http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html)

-          Peridot

Chapter 2

"Get the fuck away from ME!" Sam screamed. His body was coated with a furry sheen of sweat and his lungs were heaving with the beat of his manic heart. His body felt light as if he were about to float off and it filled him with an unusual sense of disorientation.

"Woah woah woah, there," he felt a hand on his shoulder. Sam blinked, his eyes adjusted to the pitch black room.

His senses were scattered like shells on a sandy shore, and he was child picking them up and putting them into a bucket. He faintly heard something as the mania dissipated and everything came into focus.

"Evan?" he asked; reaching across his bed to touch the warm body next to him. The connection—like anaesthesia—numbed the effects of adrenaline surging through him.

"Yea Sammy?" Evan's voice was just as soothing; it pulled the weight back down on his bones and kept him feeling grounded.

"What time is it?" he groaned the question, rubbing at his eyes and squeezing his fist to control his heart rate.

"Sammy, you okay? You had a burning fever when we found you earlier," Evan began.

"Found me? What do you mea—," like horses out the starting gate, the thoughts galloped to the finish line of his hippocampus. He gripped his head for a moment then ran a hand across his would have been injured side. He hurriedly got up from his bed, flipped the bathroom lights on and ran to the mirror.

Evan kept behind him like a tail, flitting from side to side inspecting him with an eerie glower. He watched as Sam touched his sides and chest, as if he had lost something along his skin.

"Sam?" Evan asked folding his arms across his chest expectantly.

Sam stared into the mirror, their eyes meeting in the reflection. He was carefully avoiding the glare of his friend. His memory was sketchy at best and what he did remember wasn't worth saying at all.

"I don't know what happened, maybe it was a dream—but I think I was attacked by a guy who threw a tornado at me!" he sputtered. Avoiding eye contact and refraining from any further searches for bruises across his body.

"Who hurt you?" Evan's voice had turned to ice; Sam didn't need to look at Evan to know that he was ready to hurt whoever had touched him.

"What happened?" Sam asked, before sitting on the toilet to pee. He didn't want this to progress into something further. He clearly had no injuries, so maybe it was all in his head. "Where'd you find me?"

"Me and Rov found you over on Gale Road. Rov was worried, you know how he gets," Evan recounted rolling his eyes. Sam sensed something behind the gesture, but almost immediately brushed it off as a contextual reaction.

Rov was the biggest drama queen in their gang. He was the one who reacted with the most emotion on the surface. Sam had noticed it long ago, that he overplayed situations to avoid the attention of others. Who would question your deeper feelings if you attempted to wear them on your face?

"I told him to carry us here, fast-forward a couple hours of us in bed and here we are," Evan finished, leaning on the sink cabinet. "You're deflecting, who attacked you?"

"What about Jess?" Sam sighed, not looking up from the tiled floor. He refused to meet the spikes of ice Evan's eye's had possibly formed bridging the gap between them.

"I left her a note explaining what happened. It was rather detailed if I do say so myself," he explained by dramatically gesturing to his bare chest. A smirk formed as he dared to continue. "She popped in to look at you and we talked and she was like `blah blah blah, doctor in the morning, blah blah blah.'"

"Why are you naked?" Sam asked, pointedly just realizing that his friend was sporting a semi, his member massive and gaze attracting as it lay across his tan legs like a sand covered beached whale.

"Same reason you are," he pointed out. "Body heat."

As realization dawned on Sam's face, they laughed mirthlessly at first, but eventually progressed into true humour. Sam could see the tundra melting away and they were just very close naked fiends sharing a joke.

"Again, who attacked you?" The smile held on tightly to the edge of Evan's lips as if an Earthquake had forced, albeit unsuccessfully, over a cliff.

"I really don't know. I don't know if it's a dream or what, but I just thought—like I'd told you before—some maniac was throwing me around in his gusts!" Sam sputtered, his voice hinging on flustered. He met Evan's eyes, shook his flaccid cock, flushed the toilet, washed his hands whilst avoiding Evan's body pressed against the sink and returned to his room without a word being exchanged between them.

He listened intently to the sound of the toilet replenishing itself before the soft footfalls of Evan came along. They weren't the pair to fight, but Sam knew this conversation was idiotic and he might have just fallen ill in the rain, with no signs of it now. He knew he was tired from the previous day and often times he ran himself ragged.

Evan walked around the bed, eyeing his friend suspiciously. Though Sam's eyes appeared to be on his phone, Sam was watching Evan's penis slap against his thighs like the most sexually charged game of patty-cake, ever.

Sam gulped admittedly; he had run himself ragged earlier with the run-in with Charlie. And the thought flashed through his mind if Charlie might've been the one to knock him out and leave him. He brushed that thought off, the way Charlie had thrown himself at him, it was impossible that he'd attack Sam and just leave him in the rain. His mind pondered as he looked at the messages on his phone; Rov, Mariana, numerous group chats, even Logan... but no Charlie. Interesting, maybe.

Maybe—.

"You up for some fun?" Evan asked, stroking himself at the foot of the bed. Sam's eyes followed the flesh tube as it rose to full mast. Evan held a neutral expression as his hands worked his meat like the precise and graceful strokes of an artist's paintbrush against its canvas. It jutted out at a ninety degree angle bobbing giddily as if it were more excited than anyone else.

Sam's breathing grew shaky and his heart started to beat in shaky wallops against his chest as if it were begging meekly to be let out. His blood turn to ice before quickly h and the temperature in the room started to rise. His hairs stood on end and his skin pickled where his pores opened.

"No, I'm—" Sam's stomach growled obscenely. A welcomed distraction, Evan's cock was a pole at a fire station that he did not want to slide down tonight, especially since his body and heart craved it.

"You're in luck. I was gonna bribe you with dick... but I can't resist feeding you," he laughed and left out the room dick first.

Sam watched his backside sway away from the room feeling like a tool in his best-friend's toolbox. He was in love, or a severe form of lust that left him feeling clingy and annoyed at himself times. He knew it was a cliché story arc of the gay best friend falling for his seemingly immaculate straight bestie; but he had known him for so long, even lost his virginity to him. It just made sense that their friendship would evolve into a relationship.

Alas, he'd fallen for his straight best-friend and now needed to fall in the opposite direction before it got more serious, or maybe before he deluded himself even more. He leapt off the bed and clambered behind him, naked backside as well.

It wasn't uncommon for them to walk around the house naked, the day Evan had asked Sam to fellate him, all the barriers started to crumble. A couple days later when Evan took his virginity, there was nothing left. He looked around the kitchen and the living room, Evan hadn't made it downstairs as yet. He quickly went to the fridge and decided to treat himself for his struggles.

"The ice creams lookin' a little melted and soft... but I guess it'll do," Sam called to Evan who had yet to make an appearance. Sam moved to gather bowls and laid them out on the marble counter of the island. His finger ran over a groove that brought a smile to his face; it immersed him in a memory of a previous night similar to this.

"Are you sure?" Evan peeped from behind Sam, startling him.

"Don't do that! You asshole!" Sam laughed and slapped Evan with the serving spoon.

"Sorry," Evan chuckled, moving towards the counter. "I went to check on Jess, she's out so you know what that means?"

"NAKED NIGHT IN!" they yelled in unison, not caring if they woke anyone up, as they usually didn't. The neighbouring houses were a good breathing distance away. They laughed and smiled with each other; Evan smiled at his best friend and the relationship seemed pure.

"Go set up the movie, I'll handle the ice cream," Evan said clapping Sam on his round and pert backside.

"Movie?" he questioned.

"Yeah, start the big screen up," he responded.

"What are we watching?" Sam called from the living room.

"It's your birthweek," Evan retorted. "Also, this ice cream's tough as shit."

"We're watching Prisoner of Azkaban," Sam yelled back. "You always seem to make it hard. I kinda hate you for that."

"Why?" Evan asked as he entered the room with the carton of ice cream and two spoons.

"The ice cream never melts when you're here! It's so annoying. The moment you stop touching it, it's like a floppy dick or something else that's flaccid and melty and droppy," Sam droned on as Evan smiled, watching him rant about the simpler things.

"Are you done? It's starting to melt," Evan said, his smile growing brighter as he sat in the couch waiting on his friend who was currently bent over in front of the TV giving him the view of a lifetime.

"You're such a liar," Sam mumbled as the movie started and he sat beside his friend.

"Couldn't we have started with Chamber? You know it's my favourite," Evan scoffed, spooning ice cream into his mouth.

"Fffut up!" Sam growled, his mouth stuffed with the thick ice cream. "Fffee? when I shecked the ice cream," he swallowed, "it wasn't this hard. I swear to gawd you're a freaking wizard... Harry."

Evan glared at him for a moment, and then punched him in the arm. Their joint laughter turned to silence and the scent of caramel fudge became associated with a boy wizard's struggle to get back at the guy who he thought killed his parents.

Evan reached across and grabbed the remote from Sam; pausing the movie. He put their empty carton of ice cream down and looked at Sam who was expectantly gazing back.

"What?" Sam asked. He was growing lazy at first, a good movie, a warm body and ice cream always made him sleepy, but now he was jolted back to life at the semi-serious tone of his friend's voice.

"Did Charlie attack you?" Evan inquired; his face a thundering storm of a scowl.

"What? Why are you—how'd you know about Charlie?" Sam perked up even more and eased away from his friend. His eyes scanning the room for a place to rest as they wildly avoided Evan and his question.

"He—we, kinda hooked up yesterday," Sam admitted rather quietly. His eyes rested on the empty carton by Evan's foot. He stared, almost lovingly, at a fudge stain on the rim.

"Was this the first time or are you guys dating?"

"What? Psssh, no! It's Charlie!" he angrily retorted.

"When does that mean you guys can't be a thing?" he responded flippantly with a toss of hair over his shoulder.

"Because it's Charlie. I mean, it's not him. It's just, it's him!" he sputtered, incapable of expressing that he thought of Charlie as a friend and not a lover, but wouldn't feel similarly towards Evan if the opportunity presented itself.

"Why won't you tell me who hurt you then? Who left you in the streets? Like garbage just blowing about in the storm," he asked exasperatedly. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed heavily.

"I've told you already. I think I was just dreaming. I've told you about my nightmares, maybe I passed out even," Sam suggested, eagerly, but hesitantly wanting the conversation to change.

Lightning tore across the sky, turning the night into day for a second before thunder hit the house like an abusive lover; rattling everything and leaving Sam jumpy and dazed. He was clinging to Evan—who was grossly unbothered by the anomalous weather—like gum under a table.

"Um, how'd you know about him though?" Sam asked, inhaling the salty scent that wafted from Evan's chest.

"He swung by yesterday, he came to check on you," Sam looked up at his friend to hear better, a confused grimace marred his face. "He ran through the rain but Jess didn't care. She got rid of him, so maybe if you go to school today you'll see him and sort whatever you two are going through out."

"There's nothing to sort out, I think he wants me, but I don't want him," Sam closed, realizing now why Charlie hadn't messaged him. He reached for the remote, pressed `play' and let the movie fill the silence.

As the movie played out, Sam fell asleep on his best friend who whispered just how much he loved him into his forehead before planting a kiss and going to sleep himself.

Sam jumped up, a knock at the front door had pulled him from his dreams, his eyes shifted to the frozen television, it was a half past ten and this might've been the doctor Evan had mentioned was coming.

He lumbered to the front door, pulling it open and letting the sun and morning air in.

"Hey, there Sam," he was pleasantly surprised to see that it was his sister's ex, Mohamed. He was usually a tall and skinny Cuban-Egyptian stud. Sam rubbed his eyes as he took in the now more muscular form.

"Mohamed, what happened?" Sam exclaimed. He rubbed his eyes to better to take in the brown-sugary skin of his physician. His cheekbones were more prominent, and his hazel eyes sparkled in the morning sun.

"Maybe you should put some clothes on?" Mohamed pointed out, staring intently at Sam's genitalia.

"Well, this should be embarrassing," Sam scoffed, scratched his balls, not feeling a lick of shame as his own eyes trailed across Mohamed's exposed and muscular arms. "I mean, you will be examining me right?"

He noted the very visible and audible swallow in Mohamed's throat, "I guess."

"Where would you like me?" Sam asked, leading him through the foyer to the living room. He had always had a crush on him, and though he wished he had the audacity to flirt with him, he instead was ostentatious.

"I would say in the kitchen, but that doesn't seem too—sanitary," he replied. Sam took the moment, to salivate at Mohamed's pink lips and the longer length of his hair, neatly swept back.

"Let's go up to my room—fuck!" Sam screeched rushing up to his room, seeing his bedroom window open and Pyli perched on a cushion near the window.

She piped up, cocking an eye at him. Not really moving, just preening her feathers and acting nonchalantly as if she hadn't been waiting for him for well over 3 hours. She hit him with an intense glare and hopped to the window before fluttering away in a fluted screech.

"Samuel?" Mohamed panicked rushing into the room behind him. "You still own that flying parasite?" his voice low and drowning in ridicule; Sam immediately found him annoying as he stalked into his bathroom.

"Pyli is a part of this family. The very same family you were tryin' to get into," Sam hissed.

"I would've been your brother-in-law, wouldn't you have wanted that Sammy-bear?" Sam's breath caught in his throat as he heard Mohamed mention their old nickname for him. His annoyance ebbed as he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror, the wood of the cabinet rubbing slowly across his now hardening dick.

"Let's get this over with," Sam whispered exiting the bathroom. He felt something coming over him as Mohamed still stood at the door his bag in hand and a stethoscope in the other.

"Let's get you on the bed," he directed, obviously ignoring the growing length between them. He proceeded with a few of the basic questions and tests. Sam zoned in and out as they passed by rather quickly.

"How much longer? I want to go out."

"I want your sister, but you don't see me stripping naked and trying to seduce her," he replied, producing a thermometer from a pocket and shoving it in Sam's mouth.

Sam rolled his eyes at Mohamed's comment—his nudity had nothing to do with Mohamed, he refused to let him feel guilty or ashamed for being lazy—and stated to remember a bit of why his sister left him. He was an arrogant arse and often times; it pushed through what would be his pleasant demeanour with heavy condescension and entitlement.

"Your heartbeat is a little irregular," Mohamed reached for the thermometer, standing directly in front of the sitting Sam who felt to grope his sister's past suitor. "Your temperature is alarming to say the least."

"Why? What's wrong with me?"

"Your temperature is lower than normal. And your heart beat is a bit sluggish for one so energetic. You should... be ill?" he questioned scratching his head looking from the teenager to the thermometer.

"That's not so bad. I thought I was in heat or something," Sam giggled and winked. He mentally berated himself for flirting with a douche-bag first, then for being cheesy.

"Let's set you a cold shower," Mohamed concluded, heading to the bathroom and doing as such.

"I was joking about the being in heat thing... I don't wanna do that. I really hate cold showers, unless, y'know," Sam glanced downwards at his now flaccid member nesting happily atop his unusually symmetrical testicles.

"Mhmm," Mohamed responded, pulling him into the bathroom, turning on the shower and filling the bath.

"This seems inhumane, Meddy, please?" he pleaded. He didn't understand what a cold shower would solve.

"Get in," his voice resolute and authoritative, Sam groaned and threw his body into the tub ensuring to splash his doctor.

His skin barely felt the sting of the water; he sighed in relief and grinned as he realized it felt no different from the room temperature water he often showered with. He refused to tell Meddy he had made a mistake and would instead bask in the glorious shower he had been given.

"How are you feeling?" Mohamed asked, five minutes into Sam laying under the spray.

"Fine, actually, I think I'm about to fall asleep. There's something calming—," he yawned vociferously, the sound resounding like a giant brass bell's chime, cutting him off as he shut his eyes.

Something about the cold spray was flashing in his mind like streaks of white hot lightning across his mind. He saw himself hurtling away from the sky and falling into a storm above the Earth. His eyes watered as he spun haphazardly through the atmosphere; the smell of ozone and fluffy wetness of the clouds quickly passed by. She—the Earth—was calling for him and he hurtled towards her, the sheer force of her gravity pulling him in.

"Woah," Mohamed jumped up and felt the spray of the water and pulled his hand back as if it were fire. The water was colder than ice; he quickly turned it off and pulled a sleepy Sam from the tub.

"Calm down," Sam started, his words slurring as Meddy pulled him from the nightmare and rushed him to his bed. The warmth was readily recognized, as he flew towards the sun to feel it reinvigorating him.

He enjoyed drifting in this familiar space; he stared at the distant stars and nebulae—the cosmic clouds of colours, potent reds and blues, streaks of yellow-gold and the mix in between—filled him with joy, knowing he'd escaped her again. A fire burned in his back and he yearned for the warmth to enter him. He turned around and gazed at the sun, a mass of burning gas, blazing gloriously in the centre of the solar system; its one true heart.

He felt the familiar itch, something calling him, pulling him to Earth again, even at this distance; the warmth in his backside growing and coalescing all along his spine. He gasped as goose pimples marathoned across his back. The feeling extended and exploded inside him with the intensity of the sun.

His mind reeled from the heat; his being encompassed itself in a swaddle of passion coloured in the recherché of the nebulae he longed to cosmically swim through. It prickled his flesh, begging to be in his blood, covering him from head to toe in its power. He moaned as the power caressed his throat, and wormed its way to his lips, wriggling and tantalizing as it entered his mouth and transformed.

Warm and wet and breathing heavily as it tasted him with the same fervour he now felt to reciprocate. The sun pulled him in, running its heatstroke inducing beams across his body. He gave into the sun; kissing back with more heat than it could muster, inducing supernova. The sun absorbed the energy growing bigger and brighter; consuming the planets closest to him, sucking them in, desperately trying to contain Sam.

He held his stance and added to the erotic energy the sun built, as it breathed off wafts of concentric orange heat waves. The sun still increased in size and its fiery orange dulled for a moment before it grew even brighter as cracks appeared along its body. A blue light shone from underneath as it blasted apart in spectrum of colours. Sam gasped and his eyes opened.

"Meddy?" Sam whispered pulling himself up from the sheets bundled around him. Mohamed lay beside him, sweaty, red and splotchy. Sam pulled the covers back and noted the deflating erection on Mohamed's abs and the copious flow of pearlescent slime.

"Sammybear," Mohamed whispered weakly, he sounded incredibly thirsty as if the sheets had dehydrated him. Sam, looked at his own body and found himself the complete opposite of his doctor. He wasn't sweating, hot or splotchy as if he'd been in a sauna.

"What happened?" he touched Mohamed's skin and pulled it away. His skin was scorching; instinct filled Sam as he rushed to get Meddy some water and fed it to him.

"What happened?" he repeated, slowly dribbling the water to his elder. It dawned on him how strange the event was as he glanced at the clock. The shower was an hour ago, all of the time that had passed by, swiftly for him, was an intense and weird experience. His body still felt the energy of the sun surging under his skin.

"No, you—you were as cold as ice," he ejected sitting up and drinking the fluid. "So I used body heat. But it got so hot, it's like, the heat was just growing and I got tired."

"You're a shitty doctor, y'know that?" Sam scoffed, giving him the bottle of water to nurse himself and moved away towards his closet to get dressed.

"Now you wait a second," Mohamed said, the strength had come back, but in breathy string of words. He slid out of the bed, naked as the day he was born, hairy and towering. Sam did his best not to look, but the semen flooded down Mohamed's abdominal muscles coating him in his now clear goo; shocking him at what the doctor had to offer. "You were a Popsicle 20 minutes—," he started before looking at his watch. " An hour ago? What the.... I dunno how the time escaped me. But you were freezing, I felt it. And body heat seemed like the safest and quickest bet."

"Can we just return to your medical care, please?" Sam interjected, still watching as the curtain of cum travelled down to the thick, albeit flaccid, messy and dripping mushroom atop a previously neat bush of trimmed hair.

"I, will be fine. This is more important, you're more important. I was dehydrated, as if you sucked the heat from me," he said meekly—the British accent he tried to hide was rearing its head—before draining the bottle and popping open another one and finishing it as well.

"Slow down," Sam chuckled, it was humorous to see Meddy's behaviour, but the possibility of something bad happening because he was rushing, scared him.

An hour had passed before Mohamed felt well enough to leave, much less drive Sam to the mall. The car ride had become an awkward-palooza as neither had anything to say to the other. Sam had purposefully ignored the river of cum Meddy had left on his sheets, he imagined they would be as brittle and dry as the leaves still falling from tress around them, when he got home and they'd hopefully dried. And his ignoring of the topic made things more unbearable, not to mention the kiss. His lips were a little puffy and Mohamed's were worse.

"Did you turn the temperature down?" he asked Sam. He split his attention away from the window to look at the driver whose eyes were intent on the road. He knew they had kissed; it wasn't the stupid sun he thought he'd seen in his fever dream-vision-thing.

"When would I have done that?" Sam responded, his tongue and teeth laced with venom.

"It's freezing in here," he breathed visibly.

"That's really weird," Sam noticed he hadn't felt the cold, nor was his breath showing signs of it. He puffed a couple times, and nothing. No mist, no nothing. He felt weird, and his mind immediately flashed back to the instance of the sun, delighted in him still holding the heat in himself. But then, wouldn't he be puffing like a smoker?

He looked over at Mohamed and felt nothing more than a tingle of lust at the base of his spine. What had caused that stint in his bedroom? He berated himself and stonewalled himself in, looking back out the window. Two men in two days, though his actions with Mohamed were sketchy and accidental, he felt guilty. He could never tell Jess about this, it would be an ultimate betrayal. He didn't know if he could tell his friends either.

He knew that nothing had happened, maybe a kiss, yes a kiss. But nothing else had occurred, he, the doctor, was dehydrated and decided to treat himself to a summer self-sprinkler-run-through under the sheets. Sam hadn't done anything but witness it, unconsciously at most. Then he recalled, that for some of it, his back was turned, he was certain of it. He'd felt the jabs and stabs in his back and probably still had the scars to show for it, if he needed to be that emphatic.

"Turn the heat up please," Mohamed chattered, his teeth resounding like castanets. Sam looked at him, freezing, and was baffled as to what was going on. He quickly did as he was told, and watched as it made little difference. He was too intent on ignoring how he was starting to feel—different—and preferred to focus on the mall coming into view.

Sam moved to the get out the car as Mohamed stopped in the parking lot. They stared awkwardly at each other for moment and Sam felt himself growing prickly and irritated; an unusual reaction to someone who had just spared him a bus ride.

"Thanks?" Sam muttered and pushed his door open. He stopped suddenly as Mohamed grabbed his arm. A cruel sound escaped his mouth and his eyes glazed as he shook violently as if the contact had done something to him. "Are you okay?"

Mohamed twitched for a moment, ignoring the softly worded question from Sam. He sneered for a moment, and pulled himself into his car door, trying to shrink his massive frame.

"Meddy? What happened," Sam inquired reaching across to touch him.

"No, get out!" he roared, frightening Sam, who quickly followed slamming the door behind him. No sooner was Mohamed speeding off and away from the mall.

The day kept getting stranger he thought to himself as he entered through the sliding doors. He was one to bask in a fantasy flick, but he didn't need to become one. His bed was flooded with cum, he passed out in the rain, he kissed his sister's ex, he kissed his once upon a time best-friend. He was growing more annoyed and felt the porcupine becoming his spirit animal.

He wondered about the mall for a half hour, getting lost in his thoughts and revelling in the lack of familiar faces; realizing that was exactly what he craved at the moment. He made his way up to the third floor and waltzed towards Peter's store.

"Welcome to FLEX, the shop where we give you the necessities to stretch those kinky muscles," Peter introduced, smirking at Sam.

"Peter!" Sam yelled, rushing towards his sister's lumberjack-sized boyfriend. He jumped on him and wrapped his legs around him. He was the hot older brother nature had granted him for good behaviour.

He was burly and barrel-chested, built like a woodsman with short spiky hair. He had the warmest brown eyes and a toothy grin that made Sam feel loved and included. Sam enjoyed spending time with him—which had become a little difficult with Jess's new hours—and his inherited sex shop.

They spent a good while making jokes at Mohamed's expense; he was a tool that not even a seasoned salesman such as Peter could sell. Sam didn't dare breathe a hint of anything even physical between them beyond the medical definition of the word.

Sam knew he always had a part-time job at the store if he ever needed it. He enjoyed the ambiance, the freedom and he really loved Peter. He was a constant source of joy in his and Jess's life, especially after spending his morning with Mohamed. He contemplated mentioning it, ultimately he decided against it. It might've been too weird for their friendship, and he would be putting Peter in an awkward position with his sister. He wasn't going to be toying around with her current sex toy and the previous model.

"I'm gonna get something to eat," he called to Peter as he left the store. He checked his phone in the meantime; he had a message from Logan, which he immediately ignored. He didn't see anyone or anything else immediately deserving of his attention.

He made his way to the food court and settled on something greasy and went straight for the pizza place. It was a great way to better the high he was currently experiencing. The only thing that would make it better, he thought, was room for ice cream after.

He settled into a seat directly under the giant skylight. The clouds were blocking the sun, so it wasn't an oven, not that it would be in autumn. He saw black specks zooming about far above, he assumed they were birds prepping themselves to go north or they were mating or something. He was uncertain and their actions didn't warrant a lot of attention, so he returned to fidgeting with his phone. As the pizza arrived, he tipped the guy, who smiled at him. He looked him over, and didn't mind that he was maybe an inch or two taller than Sam, the stocky solid build wasn't an issue and neither was the blonde peach fuzz buzz-cut .

"You're welcome," he winked, strutting back to the restaurant.

"You know that's how you get out of paying, right?" he heard a familiar voice behind him say. He turned to see Rov, and scowled.

"I'm not sharing with you!" Sam sneered.

"That's too bad, guess I'll have to just eat these extra tacos myself," he said with an oily smirk coating his cheeks.

"Damnit, fine. You win," Sam chuckled and split his pizza. "You're such a crook."

"I got it from my papa. So what're you doing here, Sammy?" Rov asked, running a hand through his dirty blonde locks.

"Same as you are, I figure," he responded before stuffing his mouth with a soft shell taco.

"You're buying a gift for your best-friend too?" Rov asked, before taking a bite of the pizza.

Sam chewed quickly and swallowed before saying, "Nah, Evan hates gifts. He prefers to just hang out."

"Ouch..."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Sam asked, wiping his hands off in a napkin.

"Just my pride."

It took Sam a moment to realize what had happened. When the realization slammed its breaks to avoid crashing into his common sense, his mouth curled into an `o' and he leapt from his seat and hugged Rov.

"I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot. Omg. I'm so sorry Rovington!" he gushed into his friend's neck. At some point in their hug, he had slipped into Rov's lap. Quite comfortably he still held him, looking into his sparkling eyes. "I don't deserve a gift from you."

"It was nothing. I wanted to get you something. You're important to me, you know?" he wrapped a hand around Sam's waist, slowly running his finger across the navy blue cotton.

"I thought Mariana was your best-friend. You two do everything together," Sam responded, one hand resting on Rov's chest and the other playing with Rov's fingers.

"Who do I go on the roof with? Who did I meet first? Who was the first to swim in my pool? You get where I'm going with this?" Rov spoke with a calm but strong voice. He really wanted Sam to feel the words, and soon enough, Sam could feel Rov's passion across his backside.

"I'm sorry about yesterday on the roof," Sam whispered, looking down before confronting his friend's eyes.

"I'm sorry too, I guess I get jealous with the attention you give Evan," he said pausing to look away before continuing. "Compared to the rest of us."

"I guess, it's because I've known him so long. There's just history—"

"Sir, your fries," the pizza-guy had returned; the order in his hands as he laid the food on the table.

"I didn't order... fries?" Sam cocked an eyebrow at the young man.

"They were complimentary," he said in a low voice, looking away.

"Oh my gosh! It's not what you think," Sam's screeched, a few people around were already staring at their lap show and now even more were looking. He scrambled back to his seat and accepted the fries. He looked at the young man's nametag and opened his mouth to respond.

"It's, fine," Marlon said, heading back to the restaurant. The confident strut from before was absent from his walk.

"I'm single, he's just a friend!" Sam yelled after him, eliciting even more attention, now from the passersby.

"Subtlety, try it," Rov said with the straightest face he could muster before laughing.

"You were right. That is how you get free food," Sam sulked pulling his hair away from his face.

They finished the meals shortly after, and went for Sam's bag up in the store. He had long decided ice cream was a no-no and contemplated having a more important conversation. Why hadn't Rov mentioned yesterday as yet? What was he waiting on? Had Evan told him to shut up about it, or was he just being polite?

Then there was the situation earlier with Mohamed. He had to talk to someone; he didn't want to bottle just how weird it was. It didn't seem right. Rov called him his best-friend; maybe he should treat him with the same respect.

He mulled over his thoughts, waiting by the exit as Rov went for his car.

"I saw you with Rovington moments ago, where is he?" Sam was pulled from his thoughts by an older gentleman in a black jacket and tight blue jeans that seemed to compliment his mahogany skin. Sam pointed to the direction Rov had stalked off to. Watching as the stranger ran off.

A shiver ran up his spine and he looked up, birds were flocking above, circling and weaving though each other like a tapestry. He watched their wings flex and spread, it was beautiful and enthralling. He could make more out of their mysterious movements now, as opposed to before through the meagre view the skylight allotted.

Rov's car screeched to a halt beside him, he popped his head out the passenger's window and yelled, "Get in!"

"Hey! Stop him!" the man screamed, running towards the car. Sam looked at the panic on Rov's face and scrambled into the passenger's seat.

"What the fuck is happening?" he shouted, the roar of the engine loud in his ears, his hair billowed about as they sped onto the road. Sam's face full of shock perspired with anticipation as he gazed expectantly at his NASCAR-enthused friend, hoping for an answer this circuit.

Rov's eyes did not leave the road as he responded, "He's a truant officer."

"So?" Sam shrieked, hurriedly putting his seatbelt on. "That gives you the right to speed away? What the fuck is wrong with you? Now we're in more trouble!"

"Me, not you. Just... shut up and let me think," he hissed back as the car swerved slightly before slowing down.

"Why weren't you thinking five minutes ago before you dragged me into a car chase?" Sam asked exasperatedly, his hands thrown up in defeat.

"I'm sorry," Rov whispered and a tear streaked down his cheek. Sam looked at him and felt a little sorry for him, but he knew this was Rov's dramatic capabilities coming out to play; he knew he wasn't faking it, but he couldn't help but to victimize himself a bit.

"I'm sorry too," Sam said, smiling before he looked out the window.

"PULL OVER NOW!" there he was again, screaming from his own vehicle beside them, Sam could stretch his hand out the window and touch him.

"Oh my god!"Sam yelled, his heart leaping into his throat. "Rov, what are we gonna do?"

"Kid, tell your friend to pullover!" he yelled across to Sam, stretching his hand out the window to hit his door.

"Rov..." Sam groaned, he looked up and noticed birds circling—hundreds making rings above them.

"I'm so, so sorry Sam," Rov whispered and punched it. The car lurched forward, gliding across the open road. Fear flooded Sam, like gas to the engines, he was genuinely afraid of the way Rov was reacting.

"JUST LEAVE HIM ALONE!" Sam screamed as the man closed in on them again.

And then his car skidded. The sound of screeches, calls and a familiar flute of an eagle's cry, Sam looked out the window behind him. The officer's car was covered in poop, the windscreen was caked up and the wipers were broken and waving carelessly as the car spun. Sam saw it tipping to turn over—

"NO!" he yelled again, the car made a sickening crunch and the speed had all but disappeared as if it had slammed into a wall. It careened slowly but steadily off the road into a ditch.

""Fuck. FUCK. FUCK FUCK!" Rov seethed, his knuckles white as they tightened around the steering wheel; his grey eyes frantic and his body oozing anxiety. Sam pushed his own fear aside and grabbed Rov's hand from the wheel and held it. He quickly inspected the road and marvelled, inconsiderately at how absent of life it was.

"Come on," he said, letting an air of calm wash over him before he jumped out the vehicle and started punching in the number for emergency services.

By the time he'd gotten off the phone, Rov was still, frozen in shock with his eyes on the scene and his hand reaching for Sam's. Sam took his hand and hugged him. Rov put his lips to Sam's ear, he sniffled before whispering, "I've killed him."

"He's not dead. Stop overreacting. Don't you see all these birds? It's a miracle they didn't shit on your car too." he responded, squeezing his friend's hand as they parted. He looked at all the birds flying away and was certain he noticed Pyli, before she too flew away. "Let's go before the paramedics or someone else gets here."

For another twenty minutes, the road was empty, as if it were foretelling something. The car was just as silent; the only communication shared were the occasional squeezes Sam fed to Rov as they held hands. Another ten minutes and they were in the gated neighbourhood that Rov's parents' mansion was built in.

When the car stopped, it didn't push either of them to move. They stayed in the car staring at the wall of the garage and held hands. Rov's whimpering was a little annoying, Sam was uncertain how, but he knew the guy was okay. He knew that he had a few injuries but he was far from dead.

Rov sniffled, pulling Sam away from his thoughts, before saying, "Let's go inside. Maybe go for a swim or something. I don't know, anything to get my mind off this colossal fuck up." Sam looked at him, his eyes were red with grief; the annoyance evaporated in Sam before its puddle grew any depth in him.

Sam nodded and followed him into the house. It was truly grand, beautiful black wood floors, walls made of glass, white and pale stones and wood. An elemental ambiance of yin and yang energies that effortlessly represented the owners—Rov inhabited the space—but he didn't live in it, it belonged to his parents. Rov had skulked off to the kitchen, as far as Sam had seen. He made his way up the ornate curved stone staircase to his friend's room, always enjoying the high ceilings.

Rov's room was different from the rest of the house, far different. The walls weren't neutral tones, they were baby blue, and everything else was adorned by yellow accents. The room was a giant space; it had housed many sleepovers comfortably—because, if necessary, it could fit two additional CalKing mattresses without disturbing any of the furniture.

His room held a balcony and just beside the doors that lead out to it, his bed which lounged directly across from the giant LED SmartTV and the couch and the gaming consoles in front of it. Furniture and electronics were littered around the space but the centre was always left empty. It's where they often gathered and it's where Sam often pulled a bean bag chair to and sat in it stared at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling.

"Hey, look what I found," Rov giggled, stumbling into the room with a hand behind him.

"What?" Sam asked, cocking an eyebrow at his behaviour. Rov's demeanour had stopped and done a complete 180 in the opposite direction.

"The or something," he laughed waving a bottle of vodka at Sam.

"That's not the best way to—" he started but was interrupted as Rov turned serious.

"Please, I need this. Okay?" he interjected looking down, before putting the bottle to his head and taking a swig.

Sam sighed, shrugged then said, "Fuck it." He launched across the room and took the bottle from Rov and took a drink. It burned at first but the staunch flavour was attempting to flood his nose with its caustic essence as it burned through him, reminding him of the sun from earlier.

"Hey, give that back," Rov yelled and pulled the bottle from him, pushing him on to the bed. He took a mouthful, groaned as he swallowed then wore the smirk of a champion. Sam lay on his bed, smiling, feeling the sun tingling through his parts and electrifying his body. He looked up and saw Rov staring down at him, one eye wider than the other.

"Why do you look at me like that?" Sam interrogated. He watched as Rov froze before moving to the entertainment system and plugging his phone into the speakers.

"How?" he finally responded before taking another sip of the liquor.

"Don't bullshit me, Rovington."

"How about you don't bullshit me, Samuel," he responded, turning around and pointing a finger at Sam. He staggered back to the bed, Sam realized he needed to take the bottle from him; he'd had too much too soon.

"What are you talking about?" Sam inquired; Rov had clearly tumbled down the hill of inhibition and was rolling into the valley of speaking-his-mind. Though it was a bit manipulative, Sam was intent on having his question answered; there was an unusual sparkle in the way Rov had looked at him and his tipsy mind wanted answers.

"You're always so strung up on fucking Evan. Evan this, Evan that!" he roared, staggering to the bed, his hand on the wooden frame. "Even earlier, when you didn't even fucking think of me as a best-friend!"

"Rov, that was unintenti—" he began.

"Unintentional?" Rov finished. He laughed raucously for a moment, frightening Sam who leaned back and away from him. "You're always so fucking into him, and up your own ass, you don't even have time to notice the other people who might even fucking like you... maybe even fucking love you."

"What? I'm not into Evan..." Sam's heart sped up for a moment. "I'm not into him."

"Who are you trying to convince?" Rov countered, laughing again. "Did you even look at the gift I bought you?"

"No? You left it in the car. Should I go for it?" Sam asked meekly.

"No! I'm trying to tell you I love you, why are you always focusin' on the wrong fucking things!" his voice was raw with emotion and his reddened face showed it. "Ever since the first day I saw you. You never even noticed that I always stayed single... cuz I was waiting on you! And all you ever had eyes for was that guy. I'm so fucking jealous of him."

"Rov, you're not in love with me. You're just lonely because Mariana rejected you. You're not even bi," he whispered and looked away, not daring to touch Rov's jealousy.

"I'm lonely because you're wasting your affections on him and he doesn't even care." he shrugged and threw himself onto the bed. "I'm lonely because Mariana is a fucking consolation. I want you Sam. I want you so bad sometimes, that when I jerk my shit, I cum so hard I see stars. And the fucking funny thing is, you still burn brighter in my mind than any of em."The bottle tipped over and spilled; but just as quickly Sam took it from him and put it aside on the night stand.

"Why've you never said anything before then?" he was genuinely interested to more. Rov was beautiful, and easily one of the hottest guys Sam knew. His words had him hardening in his pants and it left him breathless and heady as if they'd been kissing.

"Because I wanted you to see me," he sighed. His voice was weak with emotion.

"I do see you," Sam said, looking at him upside down. He moved his head above Rov's and kissed him on the forehead before repeating his words.

Rov held Sam's face above him. He stared at Sam's lips and whispered, "Can you see me like this?" He pulled Sam's face down and let their lips touch.

Sam felt the electricity surge in him, powerfully this time. Rov groaned into Sam's mouth as their tongues tied and the emotion swelled. He truly felt Rov's passion and it touched him. He'd never been kissed so passionately before; he felt the sun from earlier pale in comparison to this supergiant of the heavens; bright, warm, powerful, breathtaking, intoxicating, hypnotic—Sam's mind raced through adjectives. There was lust, but it felt sinless, it was so different from the way Logan or any of the other guys had kissed him. And the way Rov's fingers moved through his hair, he was really touching him.

"Rov," he said, out of breath and with very little strength in his voice, as they parted. "I'm speechless."

Rov's eyes were closed and his breathing was restful, he slowly nuzzled Sam's nose, then lips before falling back and exhaling heavily. It took Sam nary a moment to realize he had passed out. He kissed Rov's head before reaching into his pockets to get the car keys. He was going to see what the gift was.

A minute later he was in the driver's seat. He reached behind him and took the gift bag with him. He grabbed his phone as well and headed back up to Rov's room. Rov hadn't moved an inch and Sam didn't like the way he had fallen asleep. He pulled his body up onto the bed and took his shirt and jeans—totally perving on the engorged bulge—off; leaving him in a tank top and boxers. He quickly stripped down to follow suit, though he was shirtless.

He returned to the bag and pulled a box out; he supposed it held jewellery. He knew Rov was aware of his relationship with jewellery, it reminded him too much of his mother who always had an entourage of bangles and bracelets clanging like cymbals on her wrist everywhere she went. He took the higher road, especially after everything that Rov had shared, he would appreciate it regardless, because Rov had proved be so... amazing. He opened the box and gasped as it spoke.

Will you be mine? Happy Birthday Sam, I love you. It was in Rov's voice. Sam froze as he realized what the box held. They were a matching pair of silver banded gold trim shackle anklets. They were an unusual gift, but Sam was obsessed with the look. He quickly put them on and squealed. He leaned over to Rov and kissed him on the lips before putting the box beside the vodka. He pulled his phone out and saw messages from Mariana.

He glimpsed them, there was a guy asking for him, he didn't care much and didn't bother to respond. He hoped she would get that message. He saw another from Logan inquiring about where he was, asking why he was at the mall in some guy's lap and where he went with him. He felt slightly disgusted at someone reporting to him, it was creepy and he felt insecure. Finally he saw a message from Evan telling him to enjoy his day off. He smiled before putting his phone down to take a nap beside Rov.

Once sleep descended, the void was quick to grab him up; he felt weightless, as if gravity had taken him and discarded him somewhere. He tried desperately to fight it, but he knew it was futile. The only thing that existed in the void other than him was darkness. There existed no air to breathe or carry the sound of his screams, it wasn't space—at least he could traverse the stars—this was something depressing and life-force consuming.

He would spend lifetimes in the void, waking up to only have slept for a minutes or hours, time passed differently here; it was erratic and seemed to respond to his moods before he fell into it. It was annoying that this had decided to rear its ugly head now, when he was truly feeling happy, the first in a long while. He looked down at his feet, the anklets weren't there.

He shut his eyes after a moment, and willed his form to ascend back into his body, to be back beside Rov. He reached for the golden sun beneath his skin, shimmery and radiant, he wanted the light to burst this space open and crawl out with none of it clinging to him, trying to pull him back into its suffering. He was trapped here, starved of the sky and its power, but he felt something deep in him, something left with enough power to set him free.

He charged up the electricity he had been feeling and tried to send it out. He let it sizzle in his fingertips and toes; his hair stood on ends. He demanded to be taken back, and felt warmth along his stomach. The power fizzled away slowly; he did feel something, a hand across his abdomen before. He saw it sliding down to rest on his waist, spinning around to find who it belonged to and found no one. He kept spinning, searching for an owner, trapped to a disembodied arm.

The warmth of the limb, soaked into him and he felt the love. He could feel him; the supergiant behind him was pulling him up and out. He didn't resist the gravity this time. He laughed soundlessly and felt coolness around his ankles; the anklets had returned. He felt the enormity of Rov's presence willing him from the dark expanse. The darkness flickered and he saw a grey landscape. It was devoid of life and colour, flickering in and out.

Immediately he knew something was happening that wasn't supposed to be happening. This was different. His prison world was under attack.

Cracked earth, parched for centuries, stretched out its dirty fingers for miles in all directions. His ascension picked up and he found himself rising even faster. He looked around faster, seeing more, feeling more. There was no breeze, no wind; the air was as stale as the ground it blew dust across. He felt a nauseating cord tethered to his heart pulling him there; he closed his eyes, sick of looking at it and not readily wanting to revisit it anytime soon.

He blinked slowly and touched the hand around his waist, Rov was behind him, holding him—also pressing a major bone into him, but that was a different concern—and it, he believed had saved him back from the nightmare. Something not even Evan had been able to do, sleeping with his arms wrapped around Sam.

This he believed was the ultimate sign that Rov was the step he needed to take; the direction he was hoping to fall into that didn't begin with the name `Evan.' He ground his hips into Rov, feeling him respond a little before lightly snoring into Sam's ear.

He reached for his phone, without waking his companion and checked the time. Four hours had gone by, it was no surprise—the void didn't give a shit about time—it just left him miserable, but for the first time in a year, he was hopeful about it.

The void had been the total opposite of his dreams of travelling the celestial heavens. It was either one or the other, he dreamt of nothing else, ever since he turned sixteen a year ago. They haunted him, one being the embodiment of happiness and the other isolation—though he felt both did bring him isolation; flying through space and controlling it just seemed a lot more fun.

He saw another message from Evan: Where are you?

He thought for a moment before responding: I'm with Rov, y?

He watched the ellipsis dance before Evan responded: Did you go to the mall? There was an accident that injured the truant officer for our school.

Sam paused, and listened to the soft and steady breathing Rov was producing. Guilt filled him about the situation, he hadn't thought about it since they'd left the car. He sighed and responded: Well, there's a story about it, I'll just have to explain it to you later.

No need.

Sam looked at Evan's response and repeated it in his head. It was so abrupt and callous it made him embarrassed. He felt like a door had been slapped in his face; he put the phone down and turned around, shifting Rov's hand to the small of his back. He shut his eyes and put his face to his friend's chest. He felt utterly rejected and though he knew it shouldn't be affecting him the way it did, he couldn't help it. He just hoped that he wasn't about to use Rov to fill this void in his life.

He would pray, if he believed in it; he wanted to truly fall into Rov. He wanted to share his heart with him, the way in which he'd read about and seen in movies. The way he never thought he could have any time soon. He knew where this road began and the kind of selfish sacrifice he was about to make. If he wanted to be with Rov, to attempt to be happy for himself without anyone else's needs and wants hanging over him like one of the little tree air fresheners every car carried around at one point in time. He was not going to take Rov's heart and use it like a napkin to wipe Evan out of him.

He had never even moved on before. This was all new territory and scary was not the word he would use to describe it. He pulled away from Rov, who frowned momentarily before slipping back to sleep. Sam fetched some bottles of water from the kitchen and some pain relievers from the bathroom medicine drawer; he laid them where the vodka had been. He wrote a note apologizing for his absence but that he and Rov would talk more later about where their friendship could and would go.

Rov's parents were often away, a necessity for being business moguls; he was left there alone, and occasionally was joined by the cleaning staff. Otherwise he was alone and stuck with himself, waiting for company to come by. Sam promised he would change that, if they were to work out. He put the bottle in the kitchen, admiring the beauty of the home once more, imagining the possibilities before heading out.

He stepped out of the Daniels's Mansion and walked along the winding drive way till it touched the electronic gate he had been gifted with a key for long ago; only now realizing that he alone in their group had one. Rov's home was always open to him and now he intended to help him keep it warm. He smirked as the gate closed behind him.

"Cocksucker? Is that you?" he heard from a rhythmic Trinidadian accent. Sam turned around to see none other than Scott Wynters; the captain of the track team and someone Sam didn't want to have to interact with at this point, especially since there last run in—pun intended—had left Scott in the dust.

"What do you want Scott?" Sam asked, sighing, his posture became agitated as he prepared for the usually aggressive student to do something. He had heard it from Mariana that he attributed his aggression to his Caribbean heritage. That he liked to hammer away at the white girls because they deserved to be punished with pleasure for what their ancestors did to his. However, it seemed hypocritical to Sam since Scott was half-white, and was just perpetuating a silly way to hate one half of who he was.

"I was wondering your tight little ass disappeared after PE yesterday. But now I'm more interested in what you were doing at the Daniels Mansion," he smirked moving towards Sam; his big afro of loose curls bouncing as he came closer. Sam's heart caught in his throat and he wondered how far he could get before a track star caught him. He figured he could call for the speed again, but he didn't want to think about it too much and took off. He put one foot in front of the other as adrenaline flood his being.

Fuck the sunshine, he needed speed. He wanted to call for the wind but he was breathing too heavily already. Scott was playing with him; his tread was steady and his footfalls rhythmic as he closed in on him. He finally stopped in a nearby park and turned to look at the lean muscle machine slowing down, a sweat barely broken as he pulled his hair back into a bun.

"Thanks for the jog fag, I needed the exercise. It proved to me your ass was cheating on the track yesterday!" he said looking around at the park they were in, smiling. "This is a good location to suck my cock. You know I like it public."

"No," Sam breathed catching a breath before looking up at him. "It's not your cycle. I'm not yours till January."

"Fuck that, I haven't cum in days. My bitch left me and my balls drag me down when they're full," he grunted.

"No, Scott. That's now how this works," Sam began. "You know how the system is. You only have access to me during your season!"

"And my season starts in December. I'm already training now," he smirked as he grabbed Sam's hand. He looked around the empty park lit by the occasional lamp and whatever glow the stars could muster. He pulled Sam towards a tall fence of bushes; he intended to get what he came for. Sam refused to subject himself to this now, he would not sully himself like this for Scott's cheap thrills in a park.

"No, you know I'm currently Logan's!" he hissed, pulling his hand away and walking off. Confidence surged through him, building into an electrical current.

"Don't make this hard on yourself. You know when my season begins..." he paused, his threat imminent and carrying the weight of his title. "I won't shed a fucking tear to have the whole team fuck your hole to shreds. Fucking watch me."

"I'm ignoring you Scott," he called back, walking away.

He heard a grunt and the quick battle of feet vs. the ground rushed towards. Scott pushed him to the ground; he tumbled over, stunned and shocked. Scott wasn't allowed to hurt him; he was the place where the athletes stored their cocks during their seasons when girls were too problematic. He couldn't do his job if he were injured. He remained stunned, staring at Scott, who he now realized had clearly lost his mind.

The boy stood at his feet, heaving. His Under Armour joggers were distended downward with the thick eight inches of sickle curved cock he used to savagely reap his rewards from girls and Sam. He moved closer, not caring that they were in the open and pulled the fabric down, freeing the sandy brown appendage. He inched forward with a devilish look in his hazel eyes. He would force himself on Sam right here, right now if something didn't intervene.

Sam still sat there, in shock, taking in the situation. He was frozen as the jock came closer with his favourite weapon, second to his track spikes.

"No!" Sam whispered as the electricity buzzed behind his skin. He found himself reaching for the sunshine beneath his skin as well. The lightning and light meshed and converged in him. It swelled and surged everywhere, bursting its way out of Sam's pores; his skin tingled with its release leaving him lightheaded. The energy gushed out rippling the air; Scott fumbled, his hand loosened on the band of his pants as it snapped his thick member upwards as if it were asking God `why?'

Pyli's call sang through the night as she landed right in between Sam's open legs. She flapped her wings and screeched at the frightened young man. It was a second before Scott realized she was allowing him to escape that he took off without glancing behind him.

Sam looked at Pyli, not realizing just how much he appreciated her. He hugged her to himself, crying as she squawked for freedom. He knew she was only trying to cheer him up, and it was working. Something was different about him. He was feeling things and seeing things. His life was weird and he just wanted to go home.

"Let's go home girl," he sniffled, picking himself up before she flew to his shoulder and perched. She didn't need her talons to stick to him; it was a talent she had mastered over years of mutual respect and genuine love.

*

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I hope you guys enjoyed Chapter 2. Lemme know your thoughts. Please, I'm begging.

Thank you Sam, my wonderful editor!

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