To be given a chance - (BxB)

Chapter nineteen - Too close for comfort

A/N: Hi... don't be mad at how long this has taken again... sorry. Mental health and all that jazz. But here I am (Finally) with a new chapter!!! Yayy!
Uh... I have a warning though...
There's a bit of a implied/referenced NSFW moment... kinda... um... (My innocent babies! Why have you done this to me!)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy! (Sorry if it's crappy)

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I wake up happy and refreshed for the first in a long while. I feel freer somehow. Better. Almost like I can finally be who I have been repressing for so long. I'm gay, and that's okay. I have come to accept that it's part of me and I can't change it no matter how hard I try to pretend that I'm not. This is who I am. I am Sam Royster. I work at a homeless shelter. I am twenty-three years old, and I am gay. I feel the corners of my lips quirk into a tiny ghost of a smile at the thought.

I can be the real me now.

I can be Sam.

A small dip of movement in the mattress beside me grasps my attention, warmth growing closer, his arm lopping over my torso just above my waist as he turns over in the bed. Harry. A tiny quirk of a smile tugs at the corners of my lips as I watch the sleeping beauty beside me. He wriggles closer, the palm of his hand shifting to rest under my back, pulling me toward him. It's as if he's making sure I won't leave. Though, I don't blame him. He still finds it hard being on his own for too long without me, and after a few nights of sleeping next to me, it's become somewhat of a routine for him. I don't mind. I've actually found it quite nice having someone to snuggle up with... empty beds are always so lonely, he needs comfort and maybe I need a little bit too. We're here for each other, and I like that. We're no longer alone in this... we're fighting our battles together.

Harry has had it rough these past few weeks. Especially after Eric and I found his injuries, he then started to withdraw himself even more. Limited eye contact, if any - I was lucky if I even got a glace from him. The panics would get worse. It would be over anything, things that were less obvious to me. A soft tap. A wrong type of glance. A sudden bout of movement. Anything would set him off into a state of a frenzy of panic. But now... now he seems to be getting there slowly but surely, and that's okay.

I'm glad to see that most of his injuries are healing up, thanks to the help of Eric and his knowledge of first aid. I really should get my first aider certificate soon... Especially if something happens to Harry. I need to know I can be there for him when he needs me to be. And since Marie is... well... I had to let Marie go. I couldn't have her working at the Shelter after what she did to Harry. It wouldn't be right having her still there with people who are most vulnerable. Not only would it ruin the Shelters reputation, but the way people trust the place. No one should have to feel scared when they're somewhere that says they will help them.

My mind slips out of my thoughts as Harry's legs find mine, tangling together like some sort of vines, tugging at me to the point where one of his knees is resting on my inner thigh. The heat rushes to my face when something slightly hard presses against the top of my leg. My heart thuds against my chest as I bite my lip to hold back a squeak, lifting the covers a little, breath hitching at the sight. I slam the covers back down, eyes wide, face burning. I try pulling away from his grip only for him to bring me back into his hold, the pressure on my leg growing.

"S'mhmm..." Harry mumbles my name into my shoulder and I suddenly find it hard to swallow. I chew the side of my lip and adjust my boxers as a problem of my own begins to occur. He's still sleeping. Is he... I feel the heat rush to my cheeks again. Is he dreaming about me... like that? I clamp my eyes shut and try to ease out of his hold, he groans softly, hands slipping and loosening their grip as he turns over. A small sigh pushes past my lips as a grimace grows on my features.

Harry, with those apple green eyes, freckles and curly brown hair - is not as innocent as I thought... but that's okay.

I gently slip out of bed, careful not to wake him up, and steer into the bathroom making sure the door is locked. I let my head thud softly against the door, smile on my face as I rest my back against my hands. Harry likes me in that way? For how long? Why? Will he remember about it when he wakes up? I shake my head, shoulders sagging. Maybe it wasn't me he was dreaming about... he could have mumbled anything beginning with an 'S'. Or maybe it wasn't even a word. I sigh and push away from the door, shuffling over to the sink to freshen myself up and wait for the problem in my boxers to go away.

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Harry's POV -

Sam isn't beside me when I wake up. My heart sinks into my stomach as I shift in the bed, pushing myself up against the pillows. The fact that the bed is dry makes me smile a little bit. Maybe it's because I didn't have a nightmare this time. Another smile spreads across my lips, wider this time. No. I had a dream... I didn't have a scary nightmare filled with Marcus' torture. I had a dream about Sam. Me and Sam. A nice dream. It felt so real, so close... and then I woke up to no one.

I let my hand slowly glide over to Sam's side of the unmade bed, feeling nothing but cold. My fingers trail over his pillow before pausing there for a few minutes. Why didn't he wake me up? He almost always does - I bite my lip, nose scrunching up as I think... he wakes me up because I'm usually having a nightmare, or wet the bed, but I didn't this time.

My mind drifts back to the dream, wishing what had happened was true...

The way my subconscious painted a fantasy of us - together. His gentle touches, my careful hugs, his slow hands.

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I slip my hands around his waist bringing him closer as I bury my head against his chest. The thump of his heart vibrates at my temple as I try and savour this moment. I feel his chin rest on my curls and I can't help but smile as fingers timidly trail up my back, stopping between my shoulders. We sway. Back and forth. No music. No lights. No people. Just us. 


Sam's other hand slides down to the lower half of my back and I look up at him. His eyes shine like honey in this light, lips pursed, shy smile, soft hands. It sends a strange tingle through my entire body and I grip onto him, tighter, pulling him close. He's so warm and comfy. He wraps me in his arms and I never want him to let go. His touch is Heaven to me - something I've waited so long for. 

Love. 

Does he love me? Will he ever love me? Am I dreaming? 


I feel a hot breath on my neck, then the tender brush of lips. Another shiver rushes through me. His lips quirk up into a smile against my skin, I can't help the whimpers. He stops, pulling away slightly. Sam's hands move to cup my cheeks and I look at him. 

"I luh-uve yuh-you..." I say and bite my lip. He stares at me for a while and before his lips can move to reply, I wake up. 

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I grip the covers until my knuckles turn white. My head is playing tricks on me again. Sam could never love someone like me. A freak. A pathetic excuse for a person. Maybe that's why he didn't want to wake me up - I never leave him alone. Am I too clingy? Does he want me to leave him for a while? I bite down on my tongue to keep myself from crying out, tears filling my eyes faster than buckets. A whimper pushes past my trembling lips, my chin jitters, throat burns, heart and lungs ready to pop with sorrow. I should have never dreamed something like that! Why did I?! If Sam finds out I did he'd hate me even more. I can't! 

These past few weeks have been different. Sam has been different. He smiles more. Laughs louder. He likes eating a little now... the way he looks at me is... different... 

I know I shouldn't, and I can't help it, but... I think I'm in love with Sam.