Fic: No Regrets, Part 2
Thinking of Sam’s worthless excuse for a brother got Eric’s blood pumping, and he used that venomous feeling to psych himself up, shake off his fear, and plow on through the door.
*
“Glad you could meet with me,” Greg said. He got up halfway to shake Eric’s hand. “Please, have a seat.”
Eric did so, searching Greg’s expression for some indication of how the next several minutes would go, but the man was hard to read as he held a straight face very well.
“So I talked to Nula,” Greg began after the short and awkward silence. “She told me what was going on with the boy you were watching . . .” he trailed off, leaning back in his seat and cringing slightly when it let out a loud creak. For the first time, Eric was able to see how uncomfortable Greg was as he squirmed around with the chair’s audible groans. Instead of making him feel even more humiliated, it actually rather pleased him to see someone else in his shoes.
“Yeah, Scot’s a good kid,” was all he could think of to say.
“Good skater, too,” Greg added.
Eric nodded and more silence followed.
“Well, look,” Greg finally said. “I have to take you off the World Juniors . . . but you’ll probably want to spend more time with the family right now anyways. I have a kid, and I get why they’re important enough to have to leave work for. Maybe you were a little too green for that spot anyways. Otherwise, though, you’re doing a pretty good job here, and I think we’ll leave everything else the way it is.”
Eric nodded again, relief putting a smile on his nervous lips.
“And as for the other thing . . . the, uh, matter of your private life . . . well, what you do on your own time is no concern of mine. You’ve got a lot of potential here, so just keep up the good work and I’m sure we won’t have any problems in the future.”
Greg stretched out his hand again and Eric shook it as he stood to leave. But at the threshold of the door he paused, suddenly and inexplicably struck by a need to clarify things for Greg.
“You know, I’m not just gay 'on my own time',” he said, surprising himself with his boldness. “That’s not really how it works.”
A mortified expression crossed Greg’s face. “Right, of course, that’s not what I meant . . . I just mean . . . that it has no affect on how I view you as an employee.”
“Right, right.” Eric grinned, taking malicious pleasure in making Greg so uncomfortable.
Greg stood and followed him to the door. “I’m glad we were able to resolve this amicably. I hope you realize there was no need to consult a lawyer.”
“A lawyer?”
Shifting his weight, Greg looked away with a frown. “Nula mentioned something about you seeing your lawyer.”
Eric interrupted him with an uncontrollable bout of laughter. “Seeing . . . well, 'living with' might make that picture a little clearer.” He’d have to remember to ask Nula if she’d let that tidbit of misinformation slip intentionally.
Greg blinked rapidly, looking everywhere and anywhere except directly at Eric. “Oh . . . right. Okay, well go see Nula, she’ll tell you what’s on for today.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Eric said, feeling the urge to whistle a Christmas carol as he left Greg’s office.
Nothing catastrophic had happened. He hadn’t lost his job, he hadn’t lost Greg’s respect . . . maybe the guys around the office would look at him a little differently, but maybe not . . . and maybe dealing with a few looks would be easier than dealing with the heavy weight of the secret that had constantly been on his shoulders. And maybe it was even more worth it if he got to keep having amazing sex with Sam like he’d had that weekend . . . as long as they could keep Scot from interrupting them.
There’d been something different about their passion those past few days-something deeper. He’d felt more connected to Sam than he had in quite some time; not that things had ever been bad with Sam, but it was easy to get complacent after having been together so long. This past weekend, however, had been anything but complacent.
And whatever it was that was coloring their relationship, it was an addictive feeling. Just thinking about it was making him crave Sam in a way that was preventing him from really focusing on anything at work, which was probably not a good start to the rest of his career.
Hoping a little time with the object of his desire would help him get some of the craving out of his system, at lunch time he threw a “be back in a hour, or a little longer,” at Nula before taking off for Sam’s office.
***
In the three years that Sam had worked at this firm, Eric had only been inside once, when Sam had called in one of his first months there to say he’d left a file he’d been studying on the kitchen counter. Eric had reluctantly dashed in and deposited it with a receptionist, slinking out again without even so much as saying hello to Sam. Today he hoped to make a better impression.
He found his way to Sam’s office, where he was stopped by a girl who looked all of eighteen wearing an extremely tight black pencil skirt and an equally restrictive blue sweater. “Can I help you?” she asked, looking up from the papers she was filing.
Eric searched his memory and landed on the name he hoped was that of Sam’s paralegal. He’d spoken to her on the phone often enough lately, when he’d been unable to reach Sam on his cell and something Scot-related had come up. “Paula?” he asked.
“Paula’s out on vacation. I’m Becca, I’m a temp,” the girl responded. “Do you have an appointment with Mr. Miller?”
“Uh, no . . . actually I was hoping to be able to take him out to lunch.”
“Oh, alright.” She glanced over at the door to Sam’s office, which was closed. “Let me just put in a call and see if he’s free.”
Sashaying around the side of her desk she bent over to retrieve the phone, but paused with her finger hovering over the buttons. “Who should I say is here?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m Eric . . . I’m his partner.”
Becca’s brows knit together in confusion. “At this firm?”
“Not that kind of partner,” Eric responded, turning at the same time to see Sam had just emerged from his office. He stood frozen a few feet away, a beautiful and amazed smile springing to his lips as he had evidently caught the tail end of the conversation.
He looked so damned proud. But then, he’d always looked proud to be with Eric. On the rare occasions when he’d gotten to introduce Eric to people as his partner he always wore that same expression of pride.
Eric, however, had never felt the same way. He’d felt happy, of course, and certainly lucky. Lucky to have found someone who was as good to him as Sam was, happy to have his emotional and physical needs met when he was at home. But he’d never been proud.
And why hadn’t he? Sam was a catch, after all. He was a good-looking man, with his beautiful lips and soulful blue eyes. He was tall and trim and amazing in bed. Aside from the physical, he was sweet and compassionate and caring and funny, not to mention intelligent. So what was there not to be proud of?
The only reason, Eric realized, that he’d never been proud to be with Sam was because it meant he was gay. But that was not, and never had been, Sam’s fault . . . so maybe it was about time he showed some pride.
With a hesitant glance at the smiling Becca, who by now had put two and two together, he steadied his nerves and went up to Sam, popping a quick and innocent kiss on his lips. “Hey, I wanted to see if you were free for lunch.”
Sam blinked at him a few times with that wide smile of his, but he recovered quickly. “Yeah, I’m free. I’ll be back in an hour, Becca,” he added, never taking his eyes off Eric.
*
“So, this is . . . unexpected,” Sam said as they drove off towards the diner.
Eric decided to play dumb. “What are you talking about? I’ve taken you out for lunch before.”
“Yeah, but you’ve never gone into the office . . . and you’ve certainly never introduced yourself as my partner to anyone there.”
“Yeah, well, I’m turning over a new leaf,” Eric responded with a shrug.
Sam turned to look out the window as they drove past a few snow-dusted trees. “I like this leaf,” he said quietly.
At the diner, Eric slid into the booth alongside Sam instead of taking his customary spot across the table, thoroughly enjoying the shocked looks Sam was giving him every time he did something out of character.
This move was no exception. Sam grinned a flustered grin and nervously fidgeted with his cutlery and napkin.
“Everything okay?” Eric asked him.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam shot him another bashful smile. “It’s just . . . we’ve had all these rules, you know, about how we were and weren’t going to act in public. I guess I’m just wondering which ones still apply with this new leaf of yours.”
Eric thought for a moment. “Well, I don’t think we should grab each other and start making out. I mean, I don’t think anyone should do that, gay or straight.” He laughed, and Sam laughed with him, looking more relaxed. “But . . . maybe something like this would be okay.” He glanced around to make sure no eyes were on them before sliding his hand along Sam’s thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze.
Sam shifted away quickly, squirming and rearranging his legs. It took Eric a couple of seconds to realize he was fighting to contain an erection.
“Uh, maybe not.” Sam chuckled, his face reddened and an embarrassed smile on his lips, but it quickly turned into a brighter expression. “I feel like I’m falling in love with you all over again.”
Though Sam’s look was one of complete pleasure, the words struck a raw chord in Eric as he suddenly wondered if there’d been more to their dry spell in the bedroom than just Scot and the pressures of work. “You fell out of love with me?” he asked, unable to hide the fear from his voice.
“No, no, of course not,” Sam said in a rush, waving his hands emphatically. “I just meant this is nice, being able to be here with you, like this.”
Eric blinked a few times, attempting to swallow down the lump that had formed in his throat along with the strange urge to apologize to Sam for . . . for something.
“I know I’ve been difficult lately, with Scot coming and everything,” he said softly.
Sam shook his head. “No, no, it was a major change, I understand . . .”
“I know I’ve let you down in the past,” Eric continued anyways. “I know you must have regrets about choosing to be with me . . .”
“I don’t have any regrets, Eric.”
“Maybe you should have been with someone who was more like you . . . someone more affectionate . . . someone who could be a better parent to Scot . . .”
“I said, I don’t have any regrets,” Sam interrupted more forcefully, grabbing Eric’s face with his hands and laying a firm kiss on his lips to stop him from talking. He pulled away abruptly as looks of shock, contrition, and fear flashed across his eyes in rapid succession. “Shit, Eric, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I just did that . . . the one thing you told me not to do . . . I’m really sorry.”
Eric drew in a shaky breath and looked around. The diner was not that crowded, and few people seemed to be paying them any attention. He caught a couple of girls, probably in their early twenties, giggling lightly. A few other people seemed to be whispering to each other, but for all he knew they could have been talking about the weather. And just a couple pairs of eyes seemed to be trying so hard not to look at them it was obvious they’d prefer to be staring.
“It’s okay, Sam,” he said gently.
Sam nodded, but still looked dismayed. He’d followed Eric’s eyes to the giggling girls. “Sorry,” he said again.
Eric forced himself to look back at Sam and shut the rest of the room out. “Don’t be sorry. We should be able to do that, right? I mean, we’re adults, we’ve been together for a long time . . . we should be able to kiss like that in public without being afraid of what people think, right? I mean, you didn’t even use any tongue.”
Sam swallowed. “Yeah, yeah, we should,” he said gruffly.
Eric let out a sad sigh. “Scot’s going to have it harder than us, isn’t he.”
“How so?”
“Because he’s . . . he’s . . .”
“More obvious?” Sam supplied helpfully.
Eric chuckled a little. “Yeah. Because he’s so obviously different . . . more people will stare. More people will judge.”
Sam nodded. “Yes, that’s probably true. But Scot’s a tough kid. He’s been through a lot already, and he’s still going strong . . . and besides, he’ll have both of us there to help him from now on.”
“Yeah,” Eric said, his own voice growing hoarse. He had no idea how he could be of any help to Scot, though, when it seemed he’d been unable to help himself conquer so many of his own fears.
Sam smiled encouragingly and reached out to pat his hand, then retracted it sharply-old habits died hard, evidently. He reconsidered after a moment, however, and placed it back again, giving Eric’s fingers a light squeeze before coming to rest there.
Suddenly, Eric didn’t feel very hungry anymore. “Hey, let’s get out of here.”
*
Eric pulled the door of his SUV shut and Sam followed a second later. “I’m really sorry, Eric,” he said again.
“I told you to quit apologizing,” Eric replied, shoving Sam’s hands away from the seatbelt he’d drawn out before he could click it into place. “I’m not upset.”
To prove his point, he lifted his armrest so he could scoot to the edge of his chair and capture Sam’s body in his arms and his mouth in a kiss. This time, they did use tongue.
Sam slid his arms around him as well, fully engaged in their activity until Eric dragged a hand along Sam’s waist and began to undo his belt.
“What are you doing?” Sam pulled away nervously.
“Relax,” Eric teased, undoing the button before Sam was able to get his hands down there to block him from getting to the zipper.
“Eric, we’re in a public parking lot at a diner.”
“I know that,” Eric replied. His voice was calmer than he felt, because what he felt was the need to tear off all of Sam’s clothes and have him in the backseat, then send himself to a psychiatrist to be analyzed for temporary insanity. “But there’s no one around us. No one is watching. Let me do this for you, Sam. I want to. I need to.”
Sam’s eyes were wide and just a little frightened, but he moved his hand away and Eric pulled down the zipper the rest of the way, shifting Sam’s boxers around so he could get clear access.
“Eric . . .” Sam said hesitantly, clearly reconsidering his earlier agreement.
Eric crouched down in the space between the captain’s chairs and grabbed Sam’s coat from the back of his chair, placing it over top of himself and Sam’s lap. “Better?”
“Not really,” he heard Sam reply warily, but the rest of whatever he had to say was cut off as Eric took his mouth to him, licking a wide swath before drawing him in as fully as he could before fabric got in the way.
“Oh, Jesus,” Sam muttered.
He’d have liked to tease him more, but given the time constraints and the fact that they were, after all, in a public parking lot, Eric kept up a steadily accelerating rhythm. One of Sam’s hands slid under the coat and wove itself into his hair, pulling at it roughly. He could only tell from those little jerks of the wrist when Sam was close, since audible cues were at a minimum. Even though he missed hearing the effects of his labor, Eric had to admit it was probably a good idea for them to practice having quiet sex now that they had a kid in the household.
When Sam came it was with a brief cry and warm trickle down the back of Eric’s throat. Eric didn’t usually swallow, but there wasn’t much of an option unless he wanted a mess all over his car and Sam’s coat, which he was sure Sam would not be happy about. He licked off any remaining traces and tucked Sam back in gently, buttoning his pants and redoing his belt before pushing aside the coat and reemerging from the darkness. Sam rolled his head over to face him.
Though he'd never managed to be a teenager in love, as Eric stared into Sam’s glazed-over post-orgasm eyes and felt his own hard dick twitching in response, he imagined this is what it must have felt like-- crazy, ridiculous bouts of passion that made you go down on your lover in the middle of the day in a car in a public parking lot without rhyme or reason or a second thought to anything that lay beyond the here-and-now.
“Fucking amazing leaf,” Sam whispered.
*****
Next : Part 3