When Sam hugged him, Sy wanted nothing more than to pour his heart out and tell him everything. But he kept silent. How could he? He'd only ever told one person about that time period and there were things still he didn't reveal to Shelly. Things he would likely never tell anyone.

The kiss still lingered against his lips, tingling and euphoric, and he tried concentrating on that feeling rather than the assault of memories that he can neither forget, nor escape from.

On the normal day-to-day, no one would ever know something was wrong with him. He smiled brightly to passersby and the few friends he kept around (other than Shelly) only knew him as the happy-go-lucky guy that's always smiling. But now as he lay in the arms of the one person he had been yearning for, along with the happiness came the overpowering and endless depth of pain he had been swallowing and burying for the last twelve years, beginning with the moment his father found out the truth.

He pulled away with a small smile. "Sorry. I...I don't want to lose it on you." He took a deep breath. And another.

"Sy." The word was so softly spoken, so gently delivered that Sy felt his chest tighten and his eyes sting. Sy briefly looked at him before his gaze flitted away again. He jumped slightly, a small gasp making him bite his lip as Sam cupped his cheek. "Whatever you need from me, I'm right here."

Sy looked at him for a moment, looking down when Sam dropped his hand. He felt the lingering heat of Sam's palm against his skin, wishing with all his might he could have it back. "Sammy..." He took in a ragged breath and closed his eyes. "Sammy, I've been so alone. I've never really needed anything but you. And later Sammy. Sammy was an unexpected gift that has brought me through the last six years. But you...I never expected to see you again." Sy halted in his speech needing to collect himself. "My father..."

Sam watched as Sy pulled completely out of his reach, his arms curling grippingly around his ribs, his head lowering. "What happened that night? Before you came to my house."

Sy shook his head slightly. "Sammy..." He was so close to breaking. And breaking in a way he hadn't in years. He couldn't do this. He couldn't meltdown in front of him on their first real meeting. Now the feeling to run that had sparked upon arrival and grown sharp and persistent and he was finding it harder and harder to ignore.

Sam sighed. "I'm sorry." He paused. "I never expected to see you again, either. Why you left me has been the one question in my life I've never been able to answer. And the one moment I've never been able to escape." Sam's voice had an undertone that made Sy shrink away. He cleared his throat. 

"I'm sorry." He retook Sy's hand and kissed the inside of his palm. "It's been hard for me, too." He drew Sy's gaze with a finger under his chin so they made eye contact. "I really am sorry. For this. For whatever put that look in your eyes." Sam lightly touched his fingertips to Sy's cheek.

Sy looked at him then just as deeply as Sam was looking at him. Mirroring Sam's movements, the slightest touch of fingers to cheek, he said, "And I'm sorry, Sammy, that I ever was put into a position to put that look in yours."

Sam squinted against his words but not with hostility. "I keep myself so hidden. How do you see it?"

Sy smiled sadly. "Some things don't change between two people with the passage of time. You were never able to hide from me."

"Nor you me," Sam agreed.

"Sammy?" Sam's heart ached every time he called him that. Leaving his tattered and tired soul wanting of what once was. What he hoped could be again.

Sam licked his lips. "Yeah?"

"Would...I mean..." He trailed off. "Fuck it." He pulled Sam closer, their lips joining. Neither of them opened up right away, but Sy felt the tip of Sam's tongue quietly asking permission for entrance. He granted it and he felt himself melt into Sam's embrace. Sam wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close.

This is how it was always supposed to be. The two of them. Alive and together and happy to live and love as they saw fit. Sy dared to wonder if he was getting a second chance to set things right. If they were getting another chance at a love that never died despite every force against them. They pulled apart slowly, their foreheads touching. Sy's watch beeped marking the hour and he sighed. "I need to go. I have to be up for Sammy in the morning."

Sam nodded. "Would it be too forward if I said I wish you didn't have to?"

Sy smiled. "No. Because I don't want to, either. I don't want to let you out of my sight. What if you're gone again when I wake up?"

Sam grinned. Reaching into his pocket he produced a sharpie and pulled at Sy's arm. With the cap in his mouth, Sam wrote along the underside of his forearm. Turning his arm face down, he said, "Don't read it until you wake up. Then you'll know it wasn't a dream." He kissed him again, unable to get enough but willing to take what he was given. "Promise."

Sy smiled. "I promise."

"Can I see you again?" Sam sounded like he wasn't sure if he would be granted this request.

"God, yes. Text me tomorrow sometime?" They both stood.

"I will. I'll text you when I wake up." Sy nodded and Sam bent to pick up the blankets. Sy couldn't help but look at the perfectly shaped ass that presented itself to him. He had to suppress a whine at the sudden want that filled his body. Stronger than he'd experienced in so long it sent him reeling. He shook the many thoughts from his brain as Sam stood back up, the blankets folded for easier carry.

 "Can I walk you to your car?"

Sy smiled. "I think I parked next to you."

Sam chuckled and the sound went straight to Sy's balls. "Well then, that should make things simpler." They walked in comfortable silence to the parking lot, stopping by Sam's car to throw the blanket in the trunk, before walking the two spaces over to Sy's. Sy leaned casually against the driver's side door, a small smile playing at his lips. "I'm glad you came tonight."

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world." There was so much more he wanted to say but kept it on the tip of his tongue. "I'm still in disbelief that we met up again. But I'm so glad we did."

"Me, too." Sam had a look in his eyes that told Sy he also wanted to say much more than he would allow himself.

Sy touched his face, feather-light and still so unsure. "This is real, right?"

Sam stepped up a bit closer, pressing his body down the length of Sy's, his arms coming up, trapping him against the car. He stared into his eyes for a span of time that felt like eternity, before gently pressing his lips against Sy's. Sy's hands found their way to Sam's hips and held him there against him. He whined with want when Sam bit down with the perfect amount of pressure, sucking his bottom lip wantonly into his mouth. Sam shivered at the sounds escaping Sy. Sounds he had only heard in his memories and dreams for over a decade. He forced himself to step back before he lost control. The look in Sy's eyes, the heated lust that presented itself openly for Sam to see, made him want more. Made him want everything.

 "It's real, baby. It's always been real."

When Sy returned home Shelly was waiting for him. He smiled to himself. He knew she would. She had been just as nervous and excited as he had been when he left.

On the way home his mind was a whirlwind of mixed thoughts and feelings. The darker side of those two things were waging against the sheer happiness he had experienced while with Sam. Simply being in his presence. He felt like he could breathe for the first time in so long. That finally, the smothering plastic bag that had been stretched across his airways was starting to tear, allowing sweet oxygen to flow back into his lungs.

Those mixed thoughts and feelings continued to wage against him as he sank down onto the sofa next to his closest friend. "That's a face," Shelly said. "Things not go well?" She furrowed her brows.

He snapped out of his thoughts, his mind and eyes clearing of all the darkness, and he smiled. "Things went... amazingly." His smile dropped slightly. "Things kinda got intense there for a moment...emotional...on both our parts, really...I wanted to tell him why I had to leave. He asked what happened that day...but I just...I couldn't...I wanted to tell him everything." Sy sighed heavily.

"Why didn't you?" Shelly asked gently as she leaned forward, her arms braced against her thighs matching him.

He shook his head slightly. "I froze. Everything started coming back to me. When I tell him one part...I won't be able to stop. And that conversation needs to wait a bit. We need to find our ground again. Or at least I do." He looked at her. "But he kissed me."

Shelly's mouth dropped open, with a huge grin accompanying it. "No, shit!" she said a little too loud. She made a 'whoops' face and glanced down the hall toward Sammy's room. When the boy didn't rouse she looked back at him. "He kissed you?"

Sy smiled and looked away as he felt the heat rising up his neck. "Yeah. And we talked some more. He hugged me and then...I kissed him. He kissed me again before we left at the car." He felt his face becoming purple, far surpassing crimson at this point.

Shelly giggled like they were in high school, bumping shoulders with him. "You dog, you. Look at you go." She laughed playfully, slapping his arm. He laughed along with her. Her smile softened as she looked at him. "It's good to hear you laugh, sweetie. It's been a long time since you really laughed."

His smile faded and he looked away, the truth of her words hitting him solidly. "I know. Aside from Sammy, there hasn't really been much to laugh about. Shelly?" He looked at her then, his brows drawn together, the blush gone from his cheeks, and she watched as desolation filled his features.

"What, baby?" She slid her arm around his back, smoothing her fingers over the tense muscles and through his hair at the back of his head.

"Do I..." He stopped and looked down. She noticed his hand was shaking when he wiped his hands over his face with a heavy sigh.

"Do you what, love?" She prodded softly.

He hugged himself, feeling the tremors running head to toe as all the images flashed before his eyes as if he was strapped to that chair all over again. He let out a shuddering breath. 

"Do I deserve happiness if I want it with a man?"

She knew where the question was coming from and it broke her heart. "Oh, baby," she said and pulled him to her. He clung to her as if he would be pulled adrift into a wild ocean if he let go. She clung to him equally, keeping him within a safe haven as his mind ripped him apart. 

"My love," she continued gently, "you deserve happiness no matter who it's with. You deserve to be loved fully, both emotionally and intimately. You deserve to be happy, baby, because you are a wonderful man. What you don't deserve is this pain you carry around. What you don't deserve is what they did to you." She held him tightly as he quietly trembled in her arms.

"He's all I've ever wanted, Shell. But I can't get it out of my head." His voice was jagged and restrained.

"What, love? What can't get you let go of?" She tightened her grip around him, kissing his head. This was why she had waited up for him. She knew he didn't need to be alone tonight.

"What they did to...fix me," Sy whispered. There was so much pain in those six words that Shelly's eyes watered on their own accord.

"That's...you didn't need to be ‘fixed’, Sy," she told him softly against his ear.

"Don't I?" He curled in tighter to her.

"No, baby. You're not broken because you're gay. You're not wrong to fall in love with whomever is worthy of that love. Do you think I need to be fixed? ‘Cause I tell ya, I'm a different gay than you, but nonetheless, I enjoy pussy as much as you enjoy cock. Do I need to be fixed?"

He chuckled slightly at her words before shaking his head. "No. You're perfect."

She kissed him again and pushed him back by the shoulders to look in his eyes, once again serious. She smoothed his hair back away from his forehead, wiping the tears stuck to his face. "Let me ask you something." He nodded and she continued. "When you were with him tonight...how did you feel? Focus on the good feelings," she added, wanting to make sure his mind didn't go the other way.

He smiled even as more tears pooled, making his green eyes sparkle like emeralds. "Happy. I remembered what the word happy meant tonight, even before he kissed me. I felt...elated and...like I could finally breathe. Like the anvil was finally taken off my chest. I felt free." He paused as he took a broken breath deep into his lungs. "I felt found." 

That last sentence was said so quietly Shelly scarcely heard it. He continued before she could comment. "I've been so lost, Shelly. I've been so lost for so long, I don't know where or who even I am anymore. I've just been wandering in a daze only catching glimpses of sunlight. And that's really only been since Sammy was born. He's the only reason to smile. The only real and pure thing I have. Everything else is just...plastic. And you, Shelly. You've helped me in so many ways, I can never repay you."

Shelly sighed lightly against him, her chin resting on his shoulder. She kissed his cheek. "I don't want you to repay me. You're not in my debt. I love you, Sy. I just want you to be happy. Really happy."

"How do I escape what they did to me, Shelly?" he asked so brokenly Shelly felt it in her soul.

"Let yourself feel those good feelings when you're with him. Know and accept that's who you are. And eventually, my love, tell Sam. Tell him everything. I know with as much as you've told me over the years, there's so much more you haven't said. Maybe it’s time you do."

It was after midnight that Sy finally crawled into bed. He was worn out entirely, both mentally and emotionally, but it seemed his mind wanted to do anything but sleep, even as his body begged for it. He sighed and rolled over, trying and failing to keep his eyes closed and clear his mind enough to at least doze off. His head snapped toward the door as he heard it open and quietly close. He smiled as he felt a tiny body crawl up onto the bed and under the covers before that tiny body sidled up against him. Sy snuggled into his son and kissed his head affectionately, inhaling the sweet scent of his shampoo and body wash in combination with his own boyish smell. 

"Hi, baby. Have a bad dream, hm?"

The boy nodded and turned to face his father, burying himself closer. "I was lost and I couldn't find you. And no one paid any attention to me and I just cried and you never came." He was getting upset as he recalled the dream, remembering how it felt to be that scared and alone.

Sy pet Sammy gently, soothing him with soft kisses and loving whispers. "Just a bad dream, my sweet love. Know how it was a bad dream?" Sammy shook his head again and sniffled, settling back down again. "Because Daddy will always find you if you get lost. No matter how long it takes. I love you so much, Sammy. No matter what, Daddy will always love you."

The boy pushed back to look at his father, a smile adorning his face. "I love you too, Daddy. Daddy?"

"Hm?" Sy was beginning to get tired, his eyes starting to droop.

"How come you never talk about your daddy?" Sy's eyes opened and he looked at his son, his face painted in shadow, the moonlight reflecting golden in his blond hair. "Will I ever meet him one day?"

"No, baby. We don't have anything to do with him. I don't talk about him, Sammy, because when I was seventeen, he hurt your daddy very, very badly. And when I was able to, I cut him out of my life." He always believed in being honest with his son. 

While Sammy was only six, he wasn't treated as a child. His questions were answered when he asked them and he was encouraged to ask them.

Sammy studied his father for a moment before speaking. "How come he hurt you, Daddy?"

Sy thought for a moment on how to answer this question. "Sometimes mommies and daddies...well...they love their kids on conditions. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I don't think so," he said with a shake of his head.

"They want their child to be a certain way. And if they don't turn out to be that way, they don't love them anymore. Or they try to make them change to keep their love," Sy told him.

Sammy took his father's hand and absently played with his fingers. "Is that what happened to you, Daddy? Did your mommy and daddy love you on conditions?"

"Yeah, Sammy. But Sammy, I want you to hear what I'm about to tell you, okay, so I want you to listen really, really hard." At Sammy's nod, he continued. "I will always love you. Always. No matter what. There is absolutely nothing you can do that would make me want to change you or love you any less. You are my son. And I'm proud of you."

Sammy smiled and leaning forward gave him a kiss with a loud MUAH sound. He giggled as he pulled back. "I love you too, Daddy. Daddy, can I tell you something?"

"You can tell me anything, Sammy." He smiled lightly as the boy picked up his hand again.

"If I wanted something to change, would you be mad at me? I mean...I don't love you on the condition of it, but there is one thing." Suddenly he seemed unsure and bit his lip nervously.

"No, baby. What's wrong?" Sy's heart rate picked up, nerves ringing out so loudly it was hard to focus on what the boy was saying.

"I...you're sad all the time, Daddy. That's why I try and make you laugh all the time. 'Cause, you're sad. And I don't like that you're sad. And if I could change that...if you could be happy more...I would change that."

Sy couldn't breathe as he felt his heart being ripped in two by his son's words. "Come here, Sammy," he said as he reached his arms out to him.

"You're not mad at me?" he asked again.

"No, love, I'm not mad at you at all," Sy croaked out.

Sammy crawled back against his father, both of them getting comfortable before, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"Are you sad because of what your daddy did to you?"

"Something like that, Sammy. Go to sleep, baby boy. It's very late." He kissed his son's hair and took a calming breath.

"I love you no matter what, too, Daddy. I just wish you could be happy. Night night." Sammy said, sleep creeping into his voice.

"Night night, sweet Sammy."

Saturday morning rolled around and both Sy and Sammy slept in. On any normal day Sammy was up with the crows, but this morning he slumbered peacefully ensconced in his father's arms. 

Sy woke first, which immediately surprised him, and slipped his arm out from under Sammy's sleep-heavy body, and padded into the bathroom. Stumbling forward while rubbing his eyes, he relieved himself. He decided to forego the shower for the moment, wanting to at least have breakfast cooking by the time Sammy woke up. He figured it was a race against time.

He wasn't wrong. He was just turning off the stove when Sammy rounded the corner. His hair was sleep messed and sticking straight up on one side and walked directly to Sy. Sy picked him up and he held him close for morning cuddles, the boy laying his head sleepily against his father's shoulder. "Good morning, sleepy boy. Sleep well?" He smoothed the boy's bed head with a small chuckle. Samy nodded as he rubbed his eyes, yawning. 

"Hungry? Breakfast is ready." Sammy was not a talker in the morning. He needed his customary morning cuddles and breakfast, only then would he engage in any conversation. Sy attempted to set him down next to his typical chair, but the boy held onto him a bit tighter, denying Sy the ability to put him down. "What's up, baby bug, huh? My snuggle bug need extra snuggles this morning?" Sy asked as he straightened back up. Sammy nodded lightly. "Breakfast is gonna get cold," he said, not making another attempt at putting him down. Sy grabbed the plate off the counter and took it and his charge into the living room where he sat down on the couch, Sammy in his lap. The boy took the plate and began slowly consuming his scrambled eggs and bacon.

When he was done he set the plate down and curled back into his father's chest. Sy ran his hand up and down the child's back, his other arm wrapped securely around him.

 "What's the matter, Sammy?" Sy asked softly after several minutes. He still didn't say anything or move from Sy's lap. Sammy sniffled lightly which instantly caught his attention. He angled his head to see the boy's face. "Why tears, sweet boy?"

Sammy pulled Sy's arm to his chest, circling his tiny arms around Sy's forearm. With tears in his eyes, Sammy said, "Daddy, did my mommy love me?"

Sy frowned slightly but tucked a strand of hair from Sammy's face and answered carefully. "Of course she did, baby. Your mommy was very excited to meet you. You were all she talked about the whole time you were growing inside her. She loved you so much, the whole time she never stopped smiling."

Sammy smiled and wiped his eyes. "Daddy?"

Sy thumbed tears missed from Sammy's hasty wiping. "What, baby?"

Sammy's bottom lip quivered and protruded, his eyes displaying such heartbreak Sy's chest tightened. "You're not mad at me are you?"

Sy frowned, threading his hand through Sammy's soft locks. "No, baby. Why would I be mad at you?"

Fat, crocodile tears rolled down his pouty cheeks. "Because of last night. Because of what I said about you being sad all the time."

Sy smiled gently and again wiped his son's tears. "No, Sammy. I'm not mad at you. Not now, not last night. I promise, my love. If you have questions, I will answer you. Okay?"

Sammy nodded. "Is that all that was bothering you, my love?" Sammy nodded. "Or is there something else you need to talk about?" As Sammy scrutinized him, Sy could see there was something else but didn't press the matter when Sammy shook his head. He knew that he would come to him when he had all his thoughts organized and when all his data was collected. With the way he processed information, categorizing and analyzing until he came up with a sound hypothesis to back said data, he often gave thought that the boy would become a scientist of some sort.

"Daddy, can I watch cartoons?" Sammy asked, effectively ending their heart-to-heart.

"Sure, Sammy. Watch your cartoons. Will you be alright here while I take a shower?" Sammy slid off his lap and nodded, grabbing the remote and turning on the large, flat-screen television.

"I'll be fine, Daddy. Can I have some juice first?" Sammy asked before Sy left the room.

Sy changed his step and padded barefoot into the kitchen, poured Sammy a glass of apple juice, delivered it to a smiling boy, ruffled his hair, and proceeded to his bedroom and into the master bath. He turned on the water, turned the knobs until the water steamed, stripped, and stepped inside the bathtub. The water spilled down his body, letting it pour over his face and abdomen and back and legs. As images flashed through his mind, and with them the feelings that erupted within him, he moaned almost imperceptibly. Sammy, his long-lost love, his first love, the boy he clung to, the man who kissed him last night, whose arms he never wanted to be away from, invaded his mind. The feel of his hands against his hips, his lips on his, bodies pressed together, the small sounds of Sam moaning against him as their lips battled.

Sy's hand slid down to grasp his hardening cock, biting his lip to muffle the moans that fail to escape completely as he imagines Sam's mouth around him, sucking and teasing and bringing him closer and closer...Sy released in his hand, the explosion through his balls curled his toes, and he bit hard to nix the deep scream that wanted to bubble up. He didn't want his son to hear and come running.

God, it had been so long. So long since he allowed himself to think about a man in this way. So long that he didn't guilt himself out of it before his dick could twitch with the want of a touch from another man. There was no use in thinking about women. It just wasn't...it just wasn't. He was left panting and dizzy, and when his feet finally touched back down, he finished his shower, going through the motions with his mind a million miles away, and returned to his son who was still watching his cartoons.

He checked his phone as he sat down next to Sammy. He smiled. As promised there was a text from his son's namesake.

Sam: Good morning. Though, I'm sure you've been up for a while. You always were an early riser. I'm still laying in bed, my eyes barely open--as I'm sure you probably guessed. That habit of mine hasn't changed. I hope you slept well.

Sy read the message twice before typing his reply.

Sy: Two points for you. I slept..." He typed 'good' but looked at the word with an offended frown, erased it, and typed, I didn't really sleep at all, actually.

There was just a moment before Sy's phone buzzed in his hand, his screen lighting up with Sam's name and the first two words of his text. Why didn't... He opened the message to read the entire thing.

Sam: Why didn't you sleep?

Sy: My mind was too busy to really let me sleep.

He frowned as he read his own message popping up in the conversation bubbles. Why was he being so fucking open and honest? He hid from everyone. He kept everyone at some kind of arm's length, and while he hated it, it was safer that way.

Sam: Mine, either. There was a pause before another text came through. Wanna talk about it?

Sy smiled sadly to himself.

Sy: I don't know.

Sam: Mind if I say something?

Sy stared at the message for a long time before finally typing out his reply.

Sy: Sure.

Sam:  Actually, never mind. I'm sorry. Forget it.

For some reason, Sy felt saddened as he read the message and he wasn't sure if it was his own pain or Sam's pain he was feeling. The sudden back peddling and pulling back–there was fear within it..

Sy:  Sammy. Really it's okay. You can talk to me. If you want to.

He added the last bit to make the blow a little less than if he declined again, as well as to not seem too pushy and overbearing.

Sam: I'm afraid if I say too much too fast, you're going to disappear again and I don't think I would handle that well. I can't say I was doing very well before, but...I don’t think it would turn out too well for me. And that scares me.

Sy frowned at that cryptic message. He didn't understand what that meant, but the dark and possible underlying meaning of those words sent chills so harshly down his spine he gave a visible shudder. 

"Are you cold, Daddy?" Sammy asked with a quirk of his eyebrows.

"No, just a chill." He smiled and poked the boy's nose, who giggled and turned back to his show, which featured a dog with a badge. He frowned. What are kids watching these days? To Sam he texted,

Sammy...do you want me to leave you alone? Answer honestly.

  Sam: No.

The reply was instant.

Sy: Then here I am, Sammy.

A full fifteen minutes pass before Sy's phone chimes again. His heart had been beating wildly against his chest and as time ticked by, he began to wonder if Sam was going to reply at all. Then his phone buzzed again and Sy let out a slow breath.

Sam: I was thinking about you. I was thinking about what it would be like to sleep in your arms again. To wake up next to you in the morning. I was thinking about how much I've missed you. About how numb I've been...how cold I've been...I've been so cold, Sy. And last night when you were in my arms was the first time I've felt warmth since the last time I woke up in your arms.

Sy knew that the morning he referred to was the morning in which his father found out about them. The last happy moment they had together before Sy left for home, his ruin waiting in unknowing ambush. Nonchalantly Sy got up from the couch and went into the kitchen, far enough away Sammy couldn't see him or his reactions to this conversation, but close enough he could still hear him if he called.

"Me too," he replied, saying the words aloud as he typed. He hoped that what he wanted to say was conveyed in those two, short words. Because he meant so much. So much that he couldn't bring himself to say. Not now. Things were too new. It had only been four days now since their impromptu and total chance meeting and Sy was feeling suddenly very overwhelmed.

His first feeling was to run. Run far and run fast. Runaway from the potential, or eventual, Sy supposed, heartbreak. Because he knew that the honeymoon wouldn't last. Once Sam finally notices how broken he really is, when the novelty finally wears off he'll be gone again like he was never there in the first place. And then where would he be?

A smear of black down his arm caught his eye and he remembered that Sammy wrote something on his arm last night. To remind him it was real. As he read it, his heart clenched and his eyes instantly watered.

 Don't leave me this way. I can't survive without your sweet love. Oh baby, don't leave me this way.

He knew the line well enough. He closed his eyes against the memories that threatened to overwhelm him, sucked in insufficient oxygen, and bit his lip. 

"Fuck. Of all the things...you wrote that..."