Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All the resemblances are completely coincidental. All the characters, situations, and everything else in the story is owned by myself beloved. Contains descriptive sexual scenes between males. If you are not supposed to read it, do not read it! Feel free to e-mail me.
This is a sequel to Specter' Gamblehttp://www.nifty.org/nifty/gay/sf-fantasy/specters-gamble/. You don't have to read the first one in order to get this one, but it would make it easier to understand the characters in this story.
- XII -
When he parked his car next to Blair's house, it was 3:10. He looked at his palm and blinked when he saw that the cut didn't look as bad anymore. In fact, it looked a lot smaller and it stopped bleeding.
"I guess he was right..." he muttered with slight amusement.
He got out of the car and walked towards the front door of the house. He was about to ring the doorbell when the door opened and a young blonde woman with a hefty size shoulder bag stepped outside with Blair following her. Sam blinked and stepped aside.
"Hey, Sam," Blair smiled.
"Same time next week?" young woman asked professionally.
"That works," Blair nodded.
"Thanks for the tip," she smiled brightly.
"Yeah, you deserved it," Blair hemmed in somewhat embarrassed manner, and Sam blinked again. Tip? Well, she certainly didn't look like someone who would be delivering food, he thought darkly.
"See you next week," the woman chirped brightly and walked away, hugging her shoulder bag.
"Come in, Sam," Blair said, as if not noticing the look on Sam's face. "What's with the hand?" he noticed the pink by now napkin.
"Oh," Sam waved his hand in the air. "Café mishap... Nothing serious... Umm, I'd better go home..."
Blair rolled his eyes and shoved him on the shoulder lightly.
"Just get inside," he said with small laughter. "Come on! Please...?" he added.
Sam let out a small tight sigh.
"Yeah," he said. "Okay... I can't stay too long though..."
"Uh huh," Blair waited for him to walk inside the house, and slammed the door shut. "Want coffee? I am actually okay at making coffee," he nodded.
"You don't have to make any," Sam muttered, feeling tight, miserable, and confused.
"I want some too," Blair nodded. "Come on."
Sam kicked off his sneakers automatically. He remembered about Blair's warning when he already took them off, and just sighed, thinking that he should be fine without his shoes for fifteen minutes.
He followed Blair into the kitchen, without even registering the fact that the huge pile of the old newspapers by the small table that was sitting there this morning, has disappeared. He walked into the kitchen and then he froze in his tracks. He looked around, blinking rapidly, unable to say anything. The entire place was ridiculously clean. Blair watched his expression with a small smile.
"Like?" he asked finally, and Sam blinked again and looked at him.
"What...?" he said dumbfoundedly. "How...? What...?"
Blair laughed.
"Terese did a hell of a job, huh?" he said, turning on the coffeemaker. "Took her almost four hours to clean this pigsty and she didn't finish the entire house... That's okay though, she'll finish it next week," he nodded.
"Terese..." Sam repeated, still frozen in one spot.
"Yeah," the taller man glanced at him through his eyelashes. "Found her in one of the house-cleaning agencies, they said she was the best. She certainly is," he nodded. "That's why I gave her a hell of a tip. A woman, who can clean this place in less than four hours, certainly deserves it."
"She is a house-cleaner?" Sam muttered, feeling like an idiot.
"Who did you think she was?" Blair looked at him with genuine curiosity.
"I don't know..." Sam's ears immediately started flaming hot-red again. "I just didn't think... She said tip, so... I don't know," he finished, feeling his neck and face joining his ears in flaming contest.
"Right..." Blair hemmed and got two mugs out of the cupboards. "Well, the coffee should be ready in ten minutes or so. Do you wanna hang out here, since there is no danger of being attacked by something on the floor anymore?"
"Yeah..." Sam was finally able to look the other man in the eyes. "Yeah, sure..."
"Okay," Blair smiled. "Call my phone; I never got your number."
"Right," Sam muttered, and did just that.
It was two hours later, and they were playing poker. The score was a tie. Blair's expression was somewhat dumbfounded, as if he couldn't believe that he actually managed to lose to Sam more than once.
"Raise you fifty," he said carefully, eyeing the younger man's face intently.
Sam blinked and seemed thoughtful. Blair cursed in his head silently when he couldn't figure out whether it was an act or not. He didn't expect Sam to be good at poker, so when the younger man offered a game, he immediately said that they wouldn't be playing for actual money. That was when Sam sighed and said, "Pity." Well, Blair was not the one to be mocked, so he shrugged and said that fine, they'll play any way he wants, but if ends up losing his cash tonight... That was when Sam shot him a very quick glance and said, in his mild manner, that it might not happen. Blair shrugged again and said that they would only play five games, since he didn't want to rip Sam off. Well, now it was their fifth game, and the score was a tie.
Sam hesitated for a little bit too long and finally, he threw in his fifty, his left hand slowly getting hold of one of the longer strands of his hair (damn, Blair loved that new haircut!) and twisting it absent-mindedly between his fingers. Blair almost grinned but kept his expression the same. This was a new gesture, and it seemed that Sam wasn't even aware of the fact that he was doing it. Blair's shoulders relaxed slightly (he felt pretty safe; Full House was a nice bet), and he said:
"Call!" and threw his cards on the table.
Sam blinked, let go of his hair, looked at Blair's Full House, and his mouth twitched slightly. Blair was almost positive it was disappointment, when Sam carefully laid down his cards and looked into the older man's eyes. Blair stared at his Four-of-a-Kind dumbfoundedly, thinking that he was probably seeing doubles.
"Holy hell..." he said finally.
Sam melancholically swiped the bills off the table and shoved them into his pocket.
"Holy hell..." Blair said again and this time, he couldn't help but grin. "That was a hell of a good game, Sam... Where in the world did you learn poker so well?"
"Desmond mostly," Sam nodded with a small smile. "Well, Gabriel too," he shrugged. "That last hair-tug made you call, didn't it?"
Blair blinked and nodded silently. Sam grinned.
"I thought it would," he said. "Got it from Gabriel."
"Okay, the name Desmond sounds familiar," Blair said carefully. "He is your friend with the car that got `appled'... Who is Gabriel?"
"Desmond's mate," Sam said simply, and Blair's shoulders relaxed slightly.
"Okay," he said and shuffled the cards. "Enough cards for tonight..." he glanced at Sam when he snorted lightly. "I will get my money back, just so you know," he said seriously, and Sam just nodded without saying anything. "Do you want more coffee?"
"I am good, thanks," Sam smiled with the corners of his mouth.
"I can use the refill," Blair sighed. "Be right back."
He came back from the kitchen a few minutes later, his mug refilled. Sam was sitting on the couch, looking through one of the large art books Blair had on the shelf nearby. The older man put his mug on the table and sat next to Sam.
"I got that book a while ago," he said. "Never really looked through it... You like art?"
"Love it," Sam said seriously and shot Blair a quick glance through his eyelashes. "You?"
"I enjoy it," the older man nodded. "I am not really into it, and I don't know much about it, but I like it."
Sam gave him another one of his corners-of-the-mouth smiles, and Blair decided to take his chances. He took the book out of Sam's hands, and the younger man just blinked at that and gave him a questioning look when the book was relocated onto the floor next to the couch.
"I am going to kiss you now," Blair said quietly, and Sam's eyes widened.
Blair didn't give him any time to digest the information, and he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Sam's. At first, Sam's entire body has gone rigid, and Blair almost panicked, thinking that he just screwed everything up. But then, a minute or so later, he felt the younger man relax slightly, and then his lips parted slowly, inviting Blair in. Blair silently thanked whatever divinity was watching over him right now, and accepted the invitation, slowly running his tongue across Sam's lips before carefully starting exploring his mouth.
Sam's hands tentatively slid up, fingers tangling up in Blair's hair, and Blair shivered when he felt that. His own hands started caressing Sam's neck slowly, fingers running over that quickly pulsating spot on his throat, brushing gently over his collarbones. He slid his palms down the younger man's chest, and Sam tensed up a little and pulled away ever so slightly.
"Blair..." he muttered. "Don't..."
Blair just nodded without saying anything, and buried his fingers in Sam's hair instead, pulling him towards himself once again. Sam closed his eyes and let out a small sigh into Blair's mouth that drove the older man wild. He shivered once again with raw desire and immediately screamed at himself silently:
"Don't even think about it! Don't you bloody dare!"
He ran his fingers through Sam's hair, wrapping one arm around his neck carefully, cupping his face with his palm, caressing his jaw with his fingers. Sam's pulse fluttered against Blair's fingertips and it felt wonderfully desperate. "God," Blair thought hazily. "Oh, God, this is..." He never finished his thought because Sam's tongue suddenly dove into his mouth, and now it was Blair's turn to let out a small sigh, when he felt his careful exploring. Careful transformed into bold rather soon, and Blair's eyes squeezed shut when he felt Sam nibbling on his lower lip tentatively.
They moaned at the same time, and it sounded better than any music in the world to Blair's ears. Sam's arms wrapped around his neck, and he wasn't even remotely tense right now. Blair dared to press a little harder into him, hungry for the feeling of Sam's body against his, craving his heartbeat. Sam wrapped his arms tighter around his neck, diving his tongue deeper into Blair's mouth, making small whimpering sounds that made Blair shiver all over. He could feel the younger man shaking against him uncontrollably, his fingers digging deeper into Blair's neck, and he pulled him towards himself even more, his mouth hungry, desperate, and cautious at the same time. "God," Blair thought again. "Oh, God, I will do anything for him... It doesn't even matter what... I will do anything..."
They kissed for what felt like an eternity and a fraction of a second at the same time. Finally, Sam moaned once again, nibbled on Blair's upper lip carefully, making the older man squeeze his eyes shut yet again, and then he pulled away just a little, gasping for air, his eyes half-lidded, body shaking. Blair never let go of his hair, keeping his fingers buried in it, his eyes half-opened, his mind beyond hazy. This was bizarre, he thought. He had more than a fair amount of partners before, and he would never feel so desperate, uplifted, and longing with any of them. He also never made any silent promises to do anything for them.
"Do I love him?" he thought, and it made him blink. "Holy hell..." he thought, and closed his eyes. He never even met him until two days ago when Sam made him drop his beer – a thing that almost pushed Blair off the edge; it's been a while since he had beer, and the fact that he just lost it thanks to some clumsy idiot, made him beyond frustrated. Then he looked at the culprit and his anger pretty much disappeared into nothing when he saw those dark-blue scared eyes. He kept kicking himself for not asking at least the culprit's name, let alone the phone number before he left that gas station. Finally, he was so frustrated that he decided to walk to the damn gas station to get the beer he still craved for, when he saw three dickheads assaulting someone. He decided to help the guy out; it seemed that the dickheads got some serious shit kicked out of them before they got him down, and after everything was resolved, he couldn't believe himself when he saw the same pair of dark-blue eyes staring at him.
After he realized it was indeed the same pair of eyes, he did everything he could to get that culprit to contact him again. At first, he simply considered asking him for his phone number, but then the culprit (Sam) said something like, "If I had to go through that again..." That made Blair stop in his fast-running tracks immediately. He might not even think about answering his phone if he sees an unknown number, he thought. It was obvious that Sam had some seriously messed-up past, and Blair didn't want to risk it by pushing too hard.
Well, one strategically placed phone later, Blair finally got a call he was waiting for, and the next day turned out to be one of the best days in his life. When he saw Sam emerge from the chair in that hair salon, the new haircut literally made him speechless. He was perfectly aware of Sam's reaction to him – Blair wasn't blind and neither was he dumb. However, he didn't want to push too hard too soon, so he decided to play it safe, praying silently for Sam to forget about the damn phone. To Blair's greatest relief and gratitude, he did.
Earlier today, when he came to Blair's house, he was clearly upset when he saw Terese, and when he heard her saying, "Thanks for the tip!" his expression darkened immensely. "Oh my God," Blair thought in astonishment. "Is he jealous?" It seemed to be the case, because the minute Sam realized that Terese was just a house-cleaner and not something else, his face, neck, and ears started burning the delicious shade of burgundy-red.
Blair had no idea if he was about to ruin everything by kissing Sam when he did. He was afraid that Sam's reaction would be the opposite of what he hoped for, and when it wasn't, the relief that flooded him, was indescribable. He had no idea how it was even possible for him to feel this way towards someone, he never even met until two days ago, and he didn't care. Blair was never the one to overanalyze and complicate things; he simply accepted everything the way it was.
He slowly ran his fingers through the younger man's hair and traced his eyebrow with his thumb.
"You taste like rain," he whispered, and Sam looked at him. "So fresh..."
"You taste like coffee," Sam said in a low voice with a small smile, and Blair blinked.
"Ugh, sorry about that..." he muttered. "I..."
"Don't be," Sam interrupted him softly. "I love coffee..."
Blair didn't say anything to that; he just pulled him even closer, and then he found his mouth once again, his fingers never leaving Sam's hair.