Page 41 of Sam & Justin

He seemed to sense when I was getting too close, and he changed shit up. He changed angles. He changed positions. He’d push me down into the mattress. When it finally got too much, he pulled out completely and flipped me back over. He lifted my legs over his shoulder and buried himself back home. And that’s what it felt like.

Home.

For the first time in my life, Gomillion felt like home, and it was all because I was looking into his eyes.

He slowed down and the way he was fucking me changed. The passion didn’t change, but the speed and the feeling? It allchanged. It turned to something deep and intense and real. It scared the hell out of me.

And when he leaned down and kissed me, that was it. I don’t know if it was the intimacy of the moment or the shift in position. I just knew that his lips touched mine, his tongue breached my mouth, and suddenly I was shooting hands free. Hot jizz covered my stomach, and his hips faltered. A few thrusts later, he was groaning himself as my dick twitched uselessly on my chest. I didn’t want it to be over, but I had nothing left in me.

I don’t think he did either, because he eventually collapsed on my chest, still kissing me. We kissed until he went soft and slipped out of me, and only then did he pull away. It was just long enough to pull off the condom, tie it off, and toss it in the trashcan beside his bed. Then he was kissing me again. Neither one of us cared about the cum drying between us. That was a problem for later.

I woke up a few hours later, just as the sun began breaking through his open windows.

Justin’s arms were draped loosely around me, and fuck, I wanted to stay. I wanted to stay exactly where we were. But I couldn’t. Because I had to check out of my hotel in a few hours, and I had to hit the road.

I didn’t want a long goodbye. I didn’t want to deal with those emotions.

I slipped out of his arms, quiet and careful not to wake him. I found my boxers, my pants, and my shirt. My tie was still lying on the ground, but I left it there. It wasn’t like I planned on wearing it again, and every time I saw it, I’d just think back to the way he led me through the house and fucked my brains out. I paused at the door, giving him one more look, before I left his bedroom.

I left him sleeping in his bed with nothing more than a note, and damn did it hurt.

16

Reunion - Sunday Morning

I woke up alone.

Sam’s clothes were gone from my floor, all except for his tie. It was the only proof that the night before had even happened. Well, that and the used condom resting in my trash can, on top of tissues and scraps of paper. The other side of the bed looked slept in too, more proof that I hadn’t dreamt the night before. For half a moment, I had a glimmer of hope. Maybe Sam had gone to the bathroom. Maybe he just hadn’t felt comfortable walking around my house naked, and that’s why his pants and shirt were gone. Why his tie was still on my bedroom floor, a small sign to assure me he’d be back.

I waited in the bed for ten minutes. He didn’t come back. I closed my eyes and listened. The house was quiet. Too quiet. I pulled on a pair of basketball shorts and went to go find him.When I stepped into the hallway, I saw that the bathroom door was open, and the room was empty. The living room was empty. But I could smell coffee, so I went to the kitchen. Maybe he was in there. Except he wasn’t. It was empty too. My stomach sank through the floorboards.

He was gone.

The weekend had officially ended, and I hadn’t gotten a real goodbye.

Then I saw it: a folded up piece of paper propped up against an empty coffee mug. Beside the coffee mug was a pot of freshly brewed coffee. I ignored the coffee and the mug and went straight for the note. I unfolded it and read his scribbled text.

J,

So glad I got to reconnect with you. I want you to keep in contact, okay? Don’t want to go another twenty years not talking to you.

- S

At the bottom, he’d scribbled his phone number.

It wasn’t enough for a goodbye. It didn’t feel like it matched everything that we’d shared this weekend. My eyes moved to the clock over my stove. It was 10:15. I usually woke up hours before this, but at least there was still a chance. If the motel waslike others I’d stayed in, check out wouldn’t be until eleven or possibly noon. Maybe I’d just missed him, and I could catch him before he left Gomillion.

I didn’t stop to think. I turned off the coffee maker and raced back to my room. I picked my shirt up from the floor and slid it on. I didn’t care that it was wrinkled or that it smelled like sweat and booze from the night before. I just cared that it was convenient, the closest thing in my reach. I slid my feet into the flip flops I kept by the front door and raced outside. I barely remembered to lock my front door.

A stupid part of me hoped that his car would still be outside, that he’d still be parked in front of my house, unable to leave without a goodbye but unable to get back inside. It was a stupid hope, and I knew it even as I thought it. I wasn’t too surprised to find that the spot in front of my house, the one he’d parked in the night before, was empty.

I got into my car and drove like a bat out of hell toward the motel. The entire drive there, memories of the weekend flooded me. The moment I saw him at the welcome reception and the way we’d been paired together. It was like fate or something. And if the universe had a say in that, then it wouldn’t let him be gone yet. There were so many other moments that felt like fate had intervened. Moments like me leaving my phone in his hotel room, so he had to come to the tour and I could see him a little early. All of the conversations. The way Gabe had welcomed him with open arms at prom the night before.

And there had been choices too, choices that made everything mean so much more. His choice to go with me to Timbers and Tallboys. The fact that he chose to sit with me at the basketballgame, at lunch, every single moment that we spent together. Hechoseto share those moments with me, even though I was being pulled in a thousand different directions all weekend. And his suit. He’d chosen to go to the thrift store and buy a suit for a prom he hadn’t even planned on going to.

Why would all of that happen just for him to leave without a proper goodbye? The universe had set up too much. He’d chosen too much. So had I.

The universe owed us a proper goodbye.