Fic: Intentions
Sam looked a lot like his father. Saul Miller was an inch or so shorter, his nose a bit bigger, his hair a bit curlier, and gray, of course, but overall there was a strong resemblance. And he was a friendly man, or at least friendlier than Eric had ever expected the father of a gay man to be. It was still a little shocking to him how a father could be so casual about having a gay son, but not nearly as shocking as the fact that he had agreed to meet said father and stay in his house for an extended weekend.
He knew he was scoring major points with Sam, though. Not that it was an unreasonable request on Sam’s part to ask the man he was living with to meet his family. As he’d so cleverly pointed out, Eric couldn’t expect to declare his desire for their permanence and then think it was okay to hide from the time-honored duties of a significant other. But he knew Sam appreciated the fact that he was stretching outside of his comfort zone, and that Sam would show that appreciativeness in some pretty great ways. It was just a pity he was going to have to wait till they were back home to reap any of those benefits.
But by the second morning he awoke on the fairly uncomfortable mattress with Sam on the other side of a blanket barricade, he was already growing weary of the whole affair. He’d had enough of the awkward social banter and of feeling like a stranger in his own skin. And what he hadn’t had nearly enough of was alone time with Sam.
He dragged his feet in the shower, savoring the time to think privately before dressing and reluctantly heading out to the kitchen where Sam and his father were already sitting at the table with bowls of cereal.
“Good morning,” he said with a yawn.
“Morning,” Saul replied. “I was just talking with Sam about some things you two could do today. I’m sure you’ve had enough of hanging around with me. Sam could take you into the city . . . or maybe you would like to go skating? Sam said you were a hockey player . . . there’s a little park nearby with a shallow pond that freezes over where the neighborhood kids go skating.”
“We didn’t bring any skates, Dad,” Sam cut in immediately.
“I kept yours and your brother’s . . . they’re in the garage.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t think we need to dig them out. Besides, isn’t it supposed to be really cold today?”
“Actually, that sounds like a good idea,” Eric surprised himself by saying. It had been a very long time since he’d been on the ice, and in truth, he’d been avoiding it. There was certainly nothing wrong with his legs, but it felt strange for him to be skating without a hockey stick in his hands and a puck to be launching at a goal. His arm was still not even near one hundred percent, and probably wouldn’t be for some time, if ever. He was supposed to be doing regular exercises to continue to improve his flexibility, but he’d been slacking as there didn’t seem to be much of a point anymore. Now, though, some time away with Sam, doing something he was actually good at, seemed like a nice remedy to the uneasiness caused by his unskilled attempts at socializing.
“I dunno, Eric. I’m not that great a skater.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He grinned, hoping Sam would recall the debt he owed him and go along.
“Alright, I’ll go find the skates,” Saul said, standing up and making his way outside before Sam had a chance to respond.
Sam’s eyes followed his father out and he frowned.
*
Eric knelt over to lace on his skates. They were old and beat-up looking, and certainly not all that comfortable, but they’d do the job. He and Sam had arrived, as promised, at a very tiny and shallow man-made pond that was frozen solid. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, but it seemed that someone had come by and swept it off the makeshift rink.
Sam sat himself down on a snow embankment and took considerably longer to put on his own skates. Eric was already on the ice before Sam was even up, feeling out the slightly uneven surface with his rather dull blades. He circled around the small area a few times, enjoying the bite of the fresh air on his face and the feeling of being truly free for the first time since he’d landed himself in the middle of this little family encounter.
“Are you coming?” he called out to Sam on his third trip.
Sam frowned again. He’d been frowning a lot since the whole skating idea had come up. “I don’t know if I remember how.”
“Of course you do, it’s like riding a bike.” Eric laughed, beckoning him over. “Let’s go. On the ice.”
Sam took a wary step onto the pond, pushing his feet forward awkwardly. He got about three strides out before he wobbled and sank down to his knees.
Eric had to bite down his laughter, but he was pretty sure Sam could see how amused he was. “I was never really good at this to begin with,” Sam said sullenly.
“Come on, Sammy. You’ll get the hang of it.” Eric took a moment to spin around and better observe his surroundings. The scene was amazingly serene-- white waves cresting upon the ground and the stately conifer trees, and not another soul in sight. Just the way he liked it when he was with Sam.
He slid up to Sam and helped him to his feet, then grabbed him by his elbows and began slowly skating backwards. “Just push your feet, one at a time,” he coaxed as he led Sam forward.
Sam grinned at him and began to put in some effort, working up to a reasonable speed. They skated like that, arm in arm, around the pond several times before Eric finally let go and allowed Sam to make a few laps by himself. Sam slowed down considerably when he was on his own, but at least he was making progress.
“See? What did I tell you?”
Sam laughed, which evidently threw off his balance, and this time he waved his arms in a frantic attempt to catch himself before plummeting down and landing on his back. The force of the fall pushed up his jacket, exposing his shirt to the ice.
“This sucks,” Sam muttered as Eric quickly made his way over.
“Everybody falls, Sam.” Eric laughed. “You just gotta pick yourself up and go at it again.”
He helped Sam to his feet with the intention of continuing to lead him by the hand, but Sam pushed him away.
“I’m good, Eric. How about I just stand here and get my ice legs for a little bit while you show me what you can do? I don’t want to be holding you back the whole time. This is the first time you’ve skated since . . . since . . . you know.”
Eric nodded, scratching at the ice with his blade as he looked down. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Then he grinned and took off, dashing back and forth across and sending waves of ice spraying as he stopped short at the edges of the pond. Midway through one of his runs he glanced back over at Sam, who was watching him with considerable awe, and he sped up in the hopes of being even more impressive. But when he looked back, against all odds Sam seemed to have fallen down yet again, despite the fact that he’d been standing still.
“I think I’m going to take these off now,” Sam said from flat on his back as Eric approached. “And you can go ahead and laugh at me. I know you want to.”
Eric tried very hard to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. “Okay, so skating is not your thing,” he remarked as he bent over to get Sam up. Halfway to a standing position Sam’s skates slipped again, and this time his leg flailed forward and caught Eric in the shin, sending him careening. They wound up back on the ground with Eric halfway on top of Sam, laughing so hard it hurt.
“S-s-sorry,” Sam said, his teeth chattering. “C-can we go back home now?” He blinked up at Eric with bashful blue eyes.
It had been far too long since Eric had kissed him properly, and at that moment he couldn’t think of a better place for it than lying on top of him in the middle of an icy pond in the pristine winter air. So he did kiss him-- a long, deep, kind of kiss that made it almost imperative that they continue their activity somewhere a little more private.
He broke away and Sam was smiling up at him with those dreamy eyes he tended to get whenever he was particularly aroused. Sam stretched his head up for another kiss just as the sound of children’s laughter was carried in on the wind.
“Hurry up!” a boy’s voice cried.
Eric shot up quickly and tripped backwards over Sam’s leg, landing on his backside in the snow as a couple of kids and their father made their way into sight. Sam laughed as he crawled to the edge of the pond to stand, making sure to keep his feet on the soft earth rather than on the ice. He extended his hand to Eric and Eric took it, grinning sheepishly.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go in. This won’t be nearly as fun if we can’t fall on top of each other and make out,” Eric said.
Sam rolled his eyes, but he kept on smiling.
*
Sam’s teeth had not stopped chattering on their walk back, and he was visibly shivering by the time they entered Sam’s father’s house. Eric noted with considerable pleasure that Saul Miller’s car was no longer parked in front.
“Damn it, my dad always keeps it so cold in here,” Sam grumbled. “He doesn’t like to spend the money on the heat.”
Eric observed Sam’s discomfort as they made their way to the bedroom and he quickly began to plan the ways he could alleviate Sam’s distress . . . and his own.
“It’s freezing in here,” Sam whined, holding his arms tightly around his chest as he shook. His lips actually looked like they were tinged with a hint of blue.
Laughing, Eric moved in close to undo Sam’s jacket. “You don’t have enough body fat to survive this kind of weather,” he teased. “Come on, you need to get out of these wet clothes.”
Sam stood by patiently and let Eric undress him, his eyes going soft and dreamy again. Once he was standing naked Eric took the throw blanket from their bed and tossed it over Sam’s shoulders, locking him a tight cocoon while he quickly shucked off his own clothes.
Most of the time, Eric was painfully aware that Sam was the caretaker in the relationship. But every once in a while, like on the plane ride over and now as he rubbed down Sam’s shoulders through the blanket that surrounded him, Eric got the chance to take care of Sam. Ironically, it made him feel like more of a man, even though taking care of another guy wasn’t exactly included in the traditional description of masculinity.
He opened the cocoon to step into the blanket and press himself up against Sam, running his hands along Sam’s slender chest. “Let’s get you warmed up,” he murmured, drawing Sam’s lower lip into his mouth. It was cold at first, but after a few seconds he felt it warm as he worked his own lips around it.
Sam moaned a little against him, pressing his groin forward and making it clear there was a part of his anatomy that was plenty warm enough already. But just as Eric started to let his hands roam downwards, a thud reverberated through the house.
“Sam? Eric? You boys home?”
Eric pushed back from Sam’s body and had to exercise more self-control than he thought he had in order to keep from stomping his foot in frustration.
Sam gave him a forlorn look. “Sorry,” he said.
Eric hung his head. “I’m going to go take another shower,” he sighed as he turned towards the bathroom. “A long shower.”
***
Somehow Eric had managed to keep from being alone with Sam’s father for the first two days of their visit. But on the third day when he stepped away for a moment to take a phone call from work, Sam went and screwed things up.
He heard the sound of the front door closing as he reentered the living room. They’d been sitting around the TV, enjoying a lazy morning in, although Sam and his father had been paying more attention to their chess game than to the sitcom. But now as Eric scanned the room, Sam was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Sam?” he asked Saul.
“It’s starting to snow out there,” Saul said. “Sam went to go pick us up some groceries so he can make dinner tonight. It’ll be nice to have one of his home-cooked meals again.”
Fuck, Eric thought as he felt his heart start to pound a little erratically. He’d been uncomfortable enough making small talk with Sam in the room, but now he was stuck there alone, and he didn’t think it’d be appropriate to duck back into his bedroom and hide until Sam returned. So Eric was forced to resign himself to his fate, although he was going to make sure he and Sam had words about his treacherous abandonment later that day.
He sat down on the couch beside Saul, focusing his eyes on the TV but glancing sideways every so often to see if Saul was similarly engaged.
He wasn’t. “You play chess, Eric?” he asked.
“No, not really.” Eric shrugged.
Saul nodded. “So, you’re working in radio, Sam tells me.”
Eric nodded. “Sports commentating.”
Saul was silent for a few moments, and Eric dared to hope that maybe he’d run out of things to say, but he was not so lucky.
“You used to play for the Leafs, huh. What was that like?”
Eric’s gut twisted, though he realized there had been little chance of them avoiding the two topics that made him most uncomfortable-his shattered career, and Sam.
“It was . . . fun while it lasted,” he mumbled.
Saul nodded, his eyes shifting about the room. Eric noted that he looked rather uncomfortable as well, probably because Eric was not helping him out any by keeping the conversation alive.
Suddenly deciding that he’d had enough of the forced banter, Eric stood. “I’m going to . . . grab a glass of water. Would you like anything?”
Saul shook his head. “No, I’m alright,” he said, but he narrowed his eyes and turned to stare after Eric as he made his way out of the room.
Eric had just grabbed a glass from the cabinet when he was startled by the voice behind him.
“So, Eric,” Saul said. “What exactly are your intentions with my son?”
Eric spun around, gripping the glass so tightly in his hands he was afraid it might implode. “W-what?”
“What are your intentions with my son,” Saul repeated more slowly.
“I-I . . . uh . . . well, to . . . to live with him,” he stuttered out.
“Your intentions are just to live with him?”
Eric felt the color drain from his face, and rather wished it would stay that way, but a second later the draining was followed by a rush of heat that could only mean he was turning red. “W-well . . . I . . . I . . .”
“Do you love him?
“Y-yes . . .”
“Don’t you think you should have led with that, then?” Saul said, crossing his arms.
“I . . . I guess . . .”
Keys jangled at the front door and Sam stepped into the kitchen a few seconds later. He surveyed the room, his eyes taking in his father’s crossed-armed stance and Eric, who by this point had literally backed himself into a corner.
“What are you doing, Dad?” he asked with concern as he sat the grocery bags down on the kitchen table.
“Interrogating the man you’re dating. Isn’t that what a father is supposed to do?”
Sam blinked a few times, then put a hand to his forehead, shaking his head in dismay. “No, Dad. No it isn’t. Not when your son has been out of high school for over a decade.”
Saul merely shrugged.
Sam gritted his teeth and began rapidly tossing the perishables into the refrigerator. “And besides, we’re not just dating. I told you it was more serious than that. We’re already living together-- we have been for a while.”
“In your condo?”
“No, in our house,” Eric interjected, and then regretted it when he saw the shocked look on Saul’s face.
“You bought a house together and didn’t tell me?” Saul asked, a look of hurt flashing across his eyes.
“It’s Eric’s house, Dad,” Sam sighed.
“But I’ll put his name on the deed . . . I mean, if he wants. He is helping me pay down the mortgage, after all,” Eric threw in quickly.
He caught Sam’s eye as the words left him. A smile had sprung to Sam’s lips, but it was his eyes that had really captured Eric’s attention, as they were alit with appreciation, adoration, and ardor all at once. It was a look that suddenly helped Eric find the previously unavailable courage to finish up what was now tantamount to the most awkward conversation of his life.
He took a deep breath. “Look, Mr. Miller, I’m not going to lie to you. I not exactly comfortable with . . .with being . . . gay. But Sam seems to be, or at least more so than I am, and luckily for me he is incredibly patient, and kind, and generous . . . and I know I probably don’t deserve him, but I will try my best to make him happy.”
Saul nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, I guess that’s acceptable.”
Eric finally let his chest contract to make room for a new breath while Sam rolled his eyes at his father. “Okay Dad, if you’re done interrogating . . .”
“Yes, I’m done. Gonna go take a shower,” Saul announced as he headed off to his room.
Eric quickly retreated to the bedroom with Sam close on his heels.
“I am so sorry, Eric,” Sam said, holding his hands out in front of him and clasping them together in remorse. “I forgot how weird he can be sometimes . . .”
Eric sat down on the bed and put his feet along the bed frame so that he could sink his head down into his knees. “Sam, can we please, please get a hotel?”
Sam’s face fell. “Oh, Eric, come on. I’ll talk to him. I promise he won’t do anything like that again . . . please, just give it another chance. We only have two days left.”
Eric looked up at Sam’s distraught expression and shook his head. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered.
Now Sam looked even more hurt. “I’m driving you crazy? What . . . what did I do?”
Eric rubbed at his temples, frustrated that he clearly wasn’t expressing himself properly. “No, Sam . . . I mean . . . it’s driving me crazy, being here with you . . . and not being able to . . . to be with you.”
Sam relaxed, his face easing into a grin. “Eric . . . you know you don’t have to keep me away from you at night with that damn blanket. We can have sex here.”
“Nope.” Eric shook his head, waving his hands emphatically. “No we can’t.”
“My dad’s bedroom is at the other end of the house,” Sam countered.
“Yeah, but the kitchen is right out there,” Eric shot back, folding his arms defiantly.
Sam laughed. “I don’t think he’s going to stand around listening with a glass pressed up against the door.”
“No, Sammy. Just . . . no.”
Sam approached, leaning over and resting his forehead against Eric’s. “Well, how about right now then?” he murmured, running his hands over Eric’s body. “My dad’s in the shower, and he tends to take long ones.”
“I said no,” Eric replied, trying to pull back. “What if he comes out before we’re done?”
“Alright then,” Sam said, refusing to be deterred by Eric’s attempts to squirm away from his touch. “What about if we go take a shower then? He won’t hear anything that way, even if he does get out before us.”
Try as he might, there was just so way to stop the bodily reaction that Sam’s suggestion engendered. Sam didn’t miss it, either.
“Shared showers always get you going, “ he whispered seductively into Eric’s ear. “I bet you had a lot of locker room shower fantasies-“
Eric cut him off as he stood abruptly, grabbing Sam by his hips and pushing him towards the bathroom, thanking the gods above that it was inside their room. “Shut up and hurry up,” he growled.
Sam glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “From the looks of things, that’s not going to be a problem for you,” he said.
******
He knew he was scoring major points with Sam, though. Not that it was an unreasonable request on Sam’s part to ask the man he was living with to meet his family. As he’d so cleverly pointed out, Eric couldn’t expect to declare his desire for their permanence and then think it was okay to hide from the time-honored duties of a significant other. But he knew Sam appreciated the fact that he was stretching outside of his comfort zone, and that Sam would show that appreciativeness in some pretty great ways. It was just a pity he was going to have to wait till they were back home to reap any of those benefits.
But by the second morning he awoke on the fairly uncomfortable mattress with Sam on the other side of a blanket barricade, he was already growing weary of the whole affair. He’d had enough of the awkward social banter and of feeling like a stranger in his own skin. And what he hadn’t had nearly enough of was alone time with Sam.
He dragged his feet in the shower, savoring the time to think privately before dressing and reluctantly heading out to the kitchen where Sam and his father were already sitting at the table with bowls of cereal.
“Good morning,” he said with a yawn.
“Morning,” Saul replied. “I was just talking with Sam about some things you two could do today. I’m sure you’ve had enough of hanging around with me. Sam could take you into the city . . . or maybe you would like to go skating? Sam said you were a hockey player . . . there’s a little park nearby with a shallow pond that freezes over where the neighborhood kids go skating.”
“We didn’t bring any skates, Dad,” Sam cut in immediately.
“I kept yours and your brother’s . . . they’re in the garage.”
Sam shook his head. “I don’t think we need to dig them out. Besides, isn’t it supposed to be really cold today?”
“Actually, that sounds like a good idea,” Eric surprised himself by saying. It had been a very long time since he’d been on the ice, and in truth, he’d been avoiding it. There was certainly nothing wrong with his legs, but it felt strange for him to be skating without a hockey stick in his hands and a puck to be launching at a goal. His arm was still not even near one hundred percent, and probably wouldn’t be for some time, if ever. He was supposed to be doing regular exercises to continue to improve his flexibility, but he’d been slacking as there didn’t seem to be much of a point anymore. Now, though, some time away with Sam, doing something he was actually good at, seemed like a nice remedy to the uneasiness caused by his unskilled attempts at socializing.
“I dunno, Eric. I’m not that great a skater.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun.” He grinned, hoping Sam would recall the debt he owed him and go along.
“Alright, I’ll go find the skates,” Saul said, standing up and making his way outside before Sam had a chance to respond.
Sam’s eyes followed his father out and he frowned.
*
Eric knelt over to lace on his skates. They were old and beat-up looking, and certainly not all that comfortable, but they’d do the job. He and Sam had arrived, as promised, at a very tiny and shallow man-made pond that was frozen solid. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, but it seemed that someone had come by and swept it off the makeshift rink.
Sam sat himself down on a snow embankment and took considerably longer to put on his own skates. Eric was already on the ice before Sam was even up, feeling out the slightly uneven surface with his rather dull blades. He circled around the small area a few times, enjoying the bite of the fresh air on his face and the feeling of being truly free for the first time since he’d landed himself in the middle of this little family encounter.
“Are you coming?” he called out to Sam on his third trip.
Sam frowned again. He’d been frowning a lot since the whole skating idea had come up. “I don’t know if I remember how.”
“Of course you do, it’s like riding a bike.” Eric laughed, beckoning him over. “Let’s go. On the ice.”
Sam took a wary step onto the pond, pushing his feet forward awkwardly. He got about three strides out before he wobbled and sank down to his knees.
Eric had to bite down his laughter, but he was pretty sure Sam could see how amused he was. “I was never really good at this to begin with,” Sam said sullenly.
“Come on, Sammy. You’ll get the hang of it.” Eric took a moment to spin around and better observe his surroundings. The scene was amazingly serene-- white waves cresting upon the ground and the stately conifer trees, and not another soul in sight. Just the way he liked it when he was with Sam.
He slid up to Sam and helped him to his feet, then grabbed him by his elbows and began slowly skating backwards. “Just push your feet, one at a time,” he coaxed as he led Sam forward.
Sam grinned at him and began to put in some effort, working up to a reasonable speed. They skated like that, arm in arm, around the pond several times before Eric finally let go and allowed Sam to make a few laps by himself. Sam slowed down considerably when he was on his own, but at least he was making progress.
“See? What did I tell you?”
Sam laughed, which evidently threw off his balance, and this time he waved his arms in a frantic attempt to catch himself before plummeting down and landing on his back. The force of the fall pushed up his jacket, exposing his shirt to the ice.
“This sucks,” Sam muttered as Eric quickly made his way over.
“Everybody falls, Sam.” Eric laughed. “You just gotta pick yourself up and go at it again.”
He helped Sam to his feet with the intention of continuing to lead him by the hand, but Sam pushed him away.
“I’m good, Eric. How about I just stand here and get my ice legs for a little bit while you show me what you can do? I don’t want to be holding you back the whole time. This is the first time you’ve skated since . . . since . . . you know.”
Eric nodded, scratching at the ice with his blade as he looked down. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” Then he grinned and took off, dashing back and forth across and sending waves of ice spraying as he stopped short at the edges of the pond. Midway through one of his runs he glanced back over at Sam, who was watching him with considerable awe, and he sped up in the hopes of being even more impressive. But when he looked back, against all odds Sam seemed to have fallen down yet again, despite the fact that he’d been standing still.
“I think I’m going to take these off now,” Sam said from flat on his back as Eric approached. “And you can go ahead and laugh at me. I know you want to.”
Eric tried very hard to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. “Okay, so skating is not your thing,” he remarked as he bent over to get Sam up. Halfway to a standing position Sam’s skates slipped again, and this time his leg flailed forward and caught Eric in the shin, sending him careening. They wound up back on the ground with Eric halfway on top of Sam, laughing so hard it hurt.
“S-s-sorry,” Sam said, his teeth chattering. “C-can we go back home now?” He blinked up at Eric with bashful blue eyes.
It had been far too long since Eric had kissed him properly, and at that moment he couldn’t think of a better place for it than lying on top of him in the middle of an icy pond in the pristine winter air. So he did kiss him-- a long, deep, kind of kiss that made it almost imperative that they continue their activity somewhere a little more private.
He broke away and Sam was smiling up at him with those dreamy eyes he tended to get whenever he was particularly aroused. Sam stretched his head up for another kiss just as the sound of children’s laughter was carried in on the wind.
“Hurry up!” a boy’s voice cried.
Eric shot up quickly and tripped backwards over Sam’s leg, landing on his backside in the snow as a couple of kids and their father made their way into sight. Sam laughed as he crawled to the edge of the pond to stand, making sure to keep his feet on the soft earth rather than on the ice. He extended his hand to Eric and Eric took it, grinning sheepishly.
“Yeah, okay. Let’s go in. This won’t be nearly as fun if we can’t fall on top of each other and make out,” Eric said.
Sam rolled his eyes, but he kept on smiling.
*
Sam’s teeth had not stopped chattering on their walk back, and he was visibly shivering by the time they entered Sam’s father’s house. Eric noted with considerable pleasure that Saul Miller’s car was no longer parked in front.
“Damn it, my dad always keeps it so cold in here,” Sam grumbled. “He doesn’t like to spend the money on the heat.”
Eric observed Sam’s discomfort as they made their way to the bedroom and he quickly began to plan the ways he could alleviate Sam’s distress . . . and his own.
“It’s freezing in here,” Sam whined, holding his arms tightly around his chest as he shook. His lips actually looked like they were tinged with a hint of blue.
Laughing, Eric moved in close to undo Sam’s jacket. “You don’t have enough body fat to survive this kind of weather,” he teased. “Come on, you need to get out of these wet clothes.”
Sam stood by patiently and let Eric undress him, his eyes going soft and dreamy again. Once he was standing naked Eric took the throw blanket from their bed and tossed it over Sam’s shoulders, locking him a tight cocoon while he quickly shucked off his own clothes.
Most of the time, Eric was painfully aware that Sam was the caretaker in the relationship. But every once in a while, like on the plane ride over and now as he rubbed down Sam’s shoulders through the blanket that surrounded him, Eric got the chance to take care of Sam. Ironically, it made him feel like more of a man, even though taking care of another guy wasn’t exactly included in the traditional description of masculinity.
He opened the cocoon to step into the blanket and press himself up against Sam, running his hands along Sam’s slender chest. “Let’s get you warmed up,” he murmured, drawing Sam’s lower lip into his mouth. It was cold at first, but after a few seconds he felt it warm as he worked his own lips around it.
Sam moaned a little against him, pressing his groin forward and making it clear there was a part of his anatomy that was plenty warm enough already. But just as Eric started to let his hands roam downwards, a thud reverberated through the house.
“Sam? Eric? You boys home?”
Eric pushed back from Sam’s body and had to exercise more self-control than he thought he had in order to keep from stomping his foot in frustration.
Sam gave him a forlorn look. “Sorry,” he said.
Eric hung his head. “I’m going to go take another shower,” he sighed as he turned towards the bathroom. “A long shower.”
***
Somehow Eric had managed to keep from being alone with Sam’s father for the first two days of their visit. But on the third day when he stepped away for a moment to take a phone call from work, Sam went and screwed things up.
He heard the sound of the front door closing as he reentered the living room. They’d been sitting around the TV, enjoying a lazy morning in, although Sam and his father had been paying more attention to their chess game than to the sitcom. But now as Eric scanned the room, Sam was nowhere in sight.
“Where’s Sam?” he asked Saul.
“It’s starting to snow out there,” Saul said. “Sam went to go pick us up some groceries so he can make dinner tonight. It’ll be nice to have one of his home-cooked meals again.”
Fuck, Eric thought as he felt his heart start to pound a little erratically. He’d been uncomfortable enough making small talk with Sam in the room, but now he was stuck there alone, and he didn’t think it’d be appropriate to duck back into his bedroom and hide until Sam returned. So Eric was forced to resign himself to his fate, although he was going to make sure he and Sam had words about his treacherous abandonment later that day.
He sat down on the couch beside Saul, focusing his eyes on the TV but glancing sideways every so often to see if Saul was similarly engaged.
He wasn’t. “You play chess, Eric?” he asked.
“No, not really.” Eric shrugged.
Saul nodded. “So, you’re working in radio, Sam tells me.”
Eric nodded. “Sports commentating.”
Saul was silent for a few moments, and Eric dared to hope that maybe he’d run out of things to say, but he was not so lucky.
“You used to play for the Leafs, huh. What was that like?”
Eric’s gut twisted, though he realized there had been little chance of them avoiding the two topics that made him most uncomfortable-his shattered career, and Sam.
“It was . . . fun while it lasted,” he mumbled.
Saul nodded, his eyes shifting about the room. Eric noted that he looked rather uncomfortable as well, probably because Eric was not helping him out any by keeping the conversation alive.
Suddenly deciding that he’d had enough of the forced banter, Eric stood. “I’m going to . . . grab a glass of water. Would you like anything?”
Saul shook his head. “No, I’m alright,” he said, but he narrowed his eyes and turned to stare after Eric as he made his way out of the room.
Eric had just grabbed a glass from the cabinet when he was startled by the voice behind him.
“So, Eric,” Saul said. “What exactly are your intentions with my son?”
Eric spun around, gripping the glass so tightly in his hands he was afraid it might implode. “W-what?”
“What are your intentions with my son,” Saul repeated more slowly.
“I-I . . . uh . . . well, to . . . to live with him,” he stuttered out.
“Your intentions are just to live with him?”
Eric felt the color drain from his face, and rather wished it would stay that way, but a second later the draining was followed by a rush of heat that could only mean he was turning red. “W-well . . . I . . . I . . .”
“Do you love him?
“Y-yes . . .”
“Don’t you think you should have led with that, then?” Saul said, crossing his arms.
“I . . . I guess . . .”
Keys jangled at the front door and Sam stepped into the kitchen a few seconds later. He surveyed the room, his eyes taking in his father’s crossed-armed stance and Eric, who by this point had literally backed himself into a corner.
“What are you doing, Dad?” he asked with concern as he sat the grocery bags down on the kitchen table.
“Interrogating the man you’re dating. Isn’t that what a father is supposed to do?”
Sam blinked a few times, then put a hand to his forehead, shaking his head in dismay. “No, Dad. No it isn’t. Not when your son has been out of high school for over a decade.”
Saul merely shrugged.
Sam gritted his teeth and began rapidly tossing the perishables into the refrigerator. “And besides, we’re not just dating. I told you it was more serious than that. We’re already living together-- we have been for a while.”
“In your condo?”
“No, in our house,” Eric interjected, and then regretted it when he saw the shocked look on Saul’s face.
“You bought a house together and didn’t tell me?” Saul asked, a look of hurt flashing across his eyes.
“It’s Eric’s house, Dad,” Sam sighed.
“But I’ll put his name on the deed . . . I mean, if he wants. He is helping me pay down the mortgage, after all,” Eric threw in quickly.
He caught Sam’s eye as the words left him. A smile had sprung to Sam’s lips, but it was his eyes that had really captured Eric’s attention, as they were alit with appreciation, adoration, and ardor all at once. It was a look that suddenly helped Eric find the previously unavailable courage to finish up what was now tantamount to the most awkward conversation of his life.
He took a deep breath. “Look, Mr. Miller, I’m not going to lie to you. I not exactly comfortable with . . .with being . . . gay. But Sam seems to be, or at least more so than I am, and luckily for me he is incredibly patient, and kind, and generous . . . and I know I probably don’t deserve him, but I will try my best to make him happy.”
Saul nodded thoughtfully. “Alright, I guess that’s acceptable.”
Eric finally let his chest contract to make room for a new breath while Sam rolled his eyes at his father. “Okay Dad, if you’re done interrogating . . .”
“Yes, I’m done. Gonna go take a shower,” Saul announced as he headed off to his room.
Eric quickly retreated to the bedroom with Sam close on his heels.
“I am so sorry, Eric,” Sam said, holding his hands out in front of him and clasping them together in remorse. “I forgot how weird he can be sometimes . . .”
Eric sat down on the bed and put his feet along the bed frame so that he could sink his head down into his knees. “Sam, can we please, please get a hotel?”
Sam’s face fell. “Oh, Eric, come on. I’ll talk to him. I promise he won’t do anything like that again . . . please, just give it another chance. We only have two days left.”
Eric looked up at Sam’s distraught expression and shook his head. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered.
Now Sam looked even more hurt. “I’m driving you crazy? What . . . what did I do?”
Eric rubbed at his temples, frustrated that he clearly wasn’t expressing himself properly. “No, Sam . . . I mean . . . it’s driving me crazy, being here with you . . . and not being able to . . . to be with you.”
Sam relaxed, his face easing into a grin. “Eric . . . you know you don’t have to keep me away from you at night with that damn blanket. We can have sex here.”
“Nope.” Eric shook his head, waving his hands emphatically. “No we can’t.”
“My dad’s bedroom is at the other end of the house,” Sam countered.
“Yeah, but the kitchen is right out there,” Eric shot back, folding his arms defiantly.
Sam laughed. “I don’t think he’s going to stand around listening with a glass pressed up against the door.”
“No, Sammy. Just . . . no.”
Sam approached, leaning over and resting his forehead against Eric’s. “Well, how about right now then?” he murmured, running his hands over Eric’s body. “My dad’s in the shower, and he tends to take long ones.”
“I said no,” Eric replied, trying to pull back. “What if he comes out before we’re done?”
“Alright then,” Sam said, refusing to be deterred by Eric’s attempts to squirm away from his touch. “What about if we go take a shower then? He won’t hear anything that way, even if he does get out before us.”
Try as he might, there was just so way to stop the bodily reaction that Sam’s suggestion engendered. Sam didn’t miss it, either.
“Shared showers always get you going, “ he whispered seductively into Eric’s ear. “I bet you had a lot of locker room shower fantasies-“
Eric cut him off as he stood abruptly, grabbing Sam by his hips and pushing him towards the bathroom, thanking the gods above that it was inside their room. “Shut up and hurry up,” he growled.
Sam glanced over his shoulder and laughed. “From the looks of things, that’s not going to be a problem for you,” he said.
******