Every Shade by Nora Phoenix

6

Asober Samuel was cute, but a drunk Samuel was irresistible, Tris discovered. He'd taken him to a bar around the corner from the burger restaurant, more than willing to accommodate Samuel's wish to get drunk. Hell, the guy had every reason to after what he’d survived today.

Tris was so grateful he'd thought of changing Samuel's locks in time. That could’ve been a disastrous mistake, had Evan managed to get into the apartment. His gut instinct had been spot-on that Evan would try to gain access. Tris wasn't sure why, but he had a nagging suspicion that Evan had been after more than just Samuel’s personal belongings. It could've been revenge that he’d wanted, but the whole thing didn't sit right with Tris.

Why was the man so hell-bent on staying in a relationship with Samuel when he clearly had zero intention of being faithful? Why marry him if it was obvious it was never going to work? Tris had kept wondering this, until Samuel had provided his address. Upper East Side. If he could afford an apartment there, he had money. Big-time money. And that would explain Evan’s motives. From anyone else, Tris would’ve thought twice before accusing them of being such a cold, money-grabbing piece of shit, but it fit everything else he’d learned about Evan.

He hadn't discussed it with Samuel, not wanting to add to his already considerable grief on this day. The man had endured enough hits. Tris was surprised he was still standing after being confronted with what Evan had tried to do. It showed how trusting Samuel still was. It had never even occurred to him that Evan would try to steal from him or whatever he’d been up to until Tris had brought it up. And even now, the fact that he trusted a complete stranger enough to get this drunk, it said a lot about him.

Tris found it endearing. Irresistibly so, in fact. But that could also be because the more Samuel drank, the more touchy he got. And not touchy as in short-tempered, but touchy as in having his hands all over Tris. He didn't even seem to realize it, how he kept reaching out to Tris to pet his arm, caress his leg, bump his shoulder, hold his hand. It seemed to come completely natural to him, and Tris found himself enraptured.

Samuel pulled on his sleeve. "I love this song," he said, his eyes going dreamy.

Tris cocked his head, trying to recognize the song over the sounds of bar patrons chatting. It was “(Everything I Do) I Do It for You” by Bryan Adams. "A classic ballad."

"Kevin Costner was hot in that movie," Samuel said.

Tris chuckled. "You're way too young to remember that movie. That's from the nineties."

Samuel hummed a few notes from the song. "I'm a bit of a movie geek," he said. "I've made it a mission to watch the most popular movies from every decade. Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves was a perfect movie. Well, it would've been even better had Robin turned out to be gay, but all things considered, I really liked it."

He'd put his head against Tris's shoulder, and he smiled at the intimate gesture. For years, he had told himself that he wasn't ready for a new relationship. When he had married Cara, he had never expected them to divorce. It had hit him hard, feeling like a failure, even though they had parted on the best of terms. So when the divorce had become final, he had thrown himself into his work, determined to grow his company into a solid success, while at the same time prioritizing spending time with his boys.

He'd had a few hookups over the years, but they had been few and far between. He’d dated once or twice, but it had never moved beyond a second date. He kept telling himself that he wasn't in the market, but right now, with Samuel's head resting on his shoulder, he questioned the truth of that. Maybe he was in the market, but he just hadn't met the right person yet. A person like Samuel.

It didn't make sense, this instant connection he felt with him, but he couldn't deny it. It was a tad inappropriate, considering the guy had literally come out of a two-year relationship hours before. The last thing he needed was another relationship, and yet Tris had already considered several ways of keeping in touch with him.

He could be his friend, he decided. Be there for him, support him, and then hopefully, take it from there. He'd have to be patient, as Samuel clearly wasn't ready for more. He would have to give him time, but he could do that. He'd been single for years now, and a few months more wouldn't hurt.

"Dance with me," Samuel said, and Tris was shocked.

"What?" he asked.

Samuel lifted his head from Tris's shoulder and pointed toward the corner where the bar had created a small dance space. There were a few couples slow dancing to the music, creating an atmosphere far more romantic than was usually the case in this bar. Right, Valentine's Day, Tris reminded himself. He'd tuned out the overabundance of red hearts in the tacky decorations as soon as they'd walked in.

Samuel slid off the barstool and held out his hand. "Come on, big guy. Dance with me."

How did he say no to that? It turned out he couldn't, and Tris allowed himself to be pulled toward the dance floor, where Samuel nestled himself in Tris's arms without a second doubt. He wrapped his arms around Tris's torso, resting his head against his shoulder, his mouth pressed against Tris's neck.

Oh god, holding Samuel again was everything he remembered from the elevator and the long hug they'd shared outside. His body fit so perfectly against Tris's, despite their difference in height. It made Tris feel so big and strong, and as caveman-like as that sounded, it did something to him inside. Like he was Samuel's protector, and he liked it.

Bryan Adams’s timeless classic made way for another slow song, and Tris gave up pretending he didn't want to dance. As far as you could call this dancing in the first place, since it was more coordinated swaying to the music, their bodies so close you couldn't fit a sheet of paper between them.

Samuel’s breath danced across the skin of his neck, and with every breath, Tris grew harder. He had to bite his tongue not to tell Samuel how much he wanted him, but then Samuel whispered against his neck, "You're so fucking hot, and you feel so good against me."

It was the alcohol talking, Tris knew, but still his body responded with fervor. "Right back atcha,” he said, allowing himself to at least be truthful about that.

"I'm really horny," Samuel said, and Tris almost choked on his own breath.

"W-what?" he asked, thinking that he must've misunderstood.

"Evan always complained I was too needy. In case you missed the memo, that's a code word for wanting to have sex, which according to my asshole ex, is a bad thing. When we started dating, he was in for some fun and games in bed, but after that, he didn’t want to do anything experimental. Hell, I had trouble even getting him to fuck me properly. Don't ask me how, but I managed to find the one guy who doesn't like to get laid. I’ll add it to the long list of reasons why I should've known better. Wait, what was I saying?" Samuel rambled, stuttering on his consonants several times.

Tris swallowed. "Something about you being horny," he helpfully supplied.

"Right. I haven't been fucked in a week, and I desperately need a good fuck. Wanna head to the bathroom?"

Tris felt like all of his blood had accumulated in his dick, which really was hard enough to pound nails, as the expression went. He should know, having swung a hammer more than enough times. Was Samuel making things up when he was drunk? Because how could that asshole ex of his have complained about Samuel wanting sex? God, Tris would kill right now to sink inside him. Except he couldn’t. No fucking way.

"You're drunk," he said, reminding Samuel as much as himself.

"Yeah, so?"

"So you can't give consent."

Samuel let out an adorable grumble. "Leave it to me to proposition the one guy with morals."

Tris grabbed his neck and gently pulled his head back so he could look him straight into his eyes. "We both know you would regret this tomorrow, and so would I.”

Disappointment flashed in Samuel's eyes, but then he pulled his mouth into a pout so cute that Tris wanted to kiss it off his lips instantly. "And if I weren't drunk?"

Tris put one hand on Samuel’s ass and pressed their bodies even closer together. "If you weren't drunk, I would be balls deep inside you right now."

Samuel’s mouth sprang open in a little O of surprise, and before he thought better of it, Tris bent forward and took his mouth. The connection was instant, like he'd been shocked by an electric charge. A soft little moan felt from his lips, straight into Samuel’s mouth. Tris shivered at the intimacy of it, this first exploration.

It took Samuel two seconds to catch up, but when he did, he went all in. He opened up for Tris, and Tris swept inside his mouth, not satisfied until their slick tongues brushed against each other. His right hand was still on Samuel’s ass, and he squeezed it, causing Samuel to gasp into his mouth.

Tris found a rhythm, thrusting into Samuel’s mouth while kneading his ass at the same pace, flexing his hips every now and then to grind into him. He was delighted to notice that Samuel was doing the same to him, unabashedly rubbing against his body, like a cat seeking friction.

When he broke off the kiss, they were both panting, and Tris's cock was leaking in his pants. He'd better stay plastered against Samuel until he had cooled off a little, because stepping away right now would definitely expose the other bar patrons to something they might not want to see.

Then Samuel looked up at him with those dark blue eyes and said, "I don't want to go home tonight."

Tris shook his head at him. "Nothing can happen. Not today and not while you're drunk."

Samuel’s smile was an equal mix of sweet and sexy. He rose to his toes and pressed a soft, wet kiss on Tris's lips. "I understand, and while I regret the hell out of it, I'll respect it. But I still don't want to go home tonight."

Tris's mouth opened of its own accord and words came tumbling out. "You can come home with me."