Page 20 of Protecting Paul

We head to the bedroom, hand in hand. This is a routine now. I spend almost as much time in Sam’s room as in my old room at the house. Sometimes he falls asleep at my house. I realize suddenly that I spend more nights in his arms than not.

When we reach the bedroom he turns to kiss me again and slides his hands up under my shirt. His big hands spanning the width of my low back make me feel warm and safe. I reach between us to undo the buttons on his shirt at the same time that he pulls my t-shirt over my head. The laugher and tickling kisses that follow fill up my chest and makes my heart hurt. After enough kisses to make our lips numb, our pants come off more smoothly. His lips around my cock seem to feel better each time, and the taste of him is sweeter than honey. Naked, panting, post-orgasmic, I lie on his broad chest.

His fingers find their way into my hair, unsurprisingly. We don’t speak, just relishing each other’s warmth and company. I hear him snoring softly after a little bit. His hand goes limp but doesn’t move out of my hair. I wrap my arms around him tighter as if he’ll fly away if I don’t.

I’m falling hard for Sam Conroy. I think, and the thought sends fear through me. I’m already nervous about saying goodbye, but this complicates things even more. When I return to Colorado, I know I will miss nights like these. I know I’m going to miss everything about him. What the hell do I do?

11

Sam

Thingshavebeengreatlately. As much as my heart broke when Jerry attacked Paul, it’s whole again. It feels bigger and fuller than ever. Even if this is temporary, that doesn’t change much for me. I’ll make the most of my time with this fuzzy feeling in my heart. I’ll miss the feeling when Paul’s gone, but I’ll try to let him go with a smile. If leaving is what’s best for him and what will make him happy, I have no right or desire to stop it.

“Where are you running off to so fast?” Sanchez asks me as I gather my things up at the end of the day. Only then do I realize I’m moving at lightning speed, eager to get to Paul’s place.

“Uh…” I stand up straight and run a hand through my hair. I feel like a teenager who’s been caught by his parents sneaking out. “Just going to Paul’s. I’ve been helping him fix the place, and it’s been going well since we got his uncle out of the picture.”

“Good to hear.” He pats me on the back. He has a knowing look on his face, the same as the last time he called me out. Luckily, he doesn’t push any further. “Have fun, buddy. See ya tomorrow.”

I’m well aware that the entire department knows about my relationship with Paul now, but no one is being weird about it. I’m grateful for that. I almost want to tell Paul honestly and prove that Shafter Falls isn’t as bad as he thinks.

I don’t, though. I know Paul is wary of cops, to begin with. I doubt he would take it well to know all the cops in town know we’re… well, I don’t know what we are. I’m not sure that he would be comfortable with all my co-workers knowing we’re together romantically.

I’m exhausted as I drive from the precinct, but I usually am. Once I pull up to Paul’s, that tiredness will go away. He gives me that sweet smile, and I feel rejuvenated every time. When I pull into the driveway this time, things are different. Instead of excitement to see Paul, I feel a nasty churning in my gut. The house looks like a whole different place since I was here just yesterday.

I slam the car door and run up the driveway. I pass by some of the destruction as I do. Some of the porch steps Paul and I recently replaced are smashed to the point where I have to leap over them.

I stop and stare, reading the spray-painted graffiti decorating the outside. The porch is covered in red paint, screaming the words ‘queer’ ‘cocksucker’ and ‘pansy.’ There’s more of the same covering the driveway, which I overlooked until now.

The front windows are smashed in, and I have to dodge a handful of glass shards to get to the front door. The front door is spraypainted with the words, ‘get out of town, faggot’.

I knock on the door softly. I’m full of anxiety as I do. I can’t imagine how this makes Paul feel if it’s affecting me this much. There’s only one person I can think of who would do this.

“Paul!” I say as the door swings open, revealing a dejected-looking Paul before me. “Are you okay?”

I don’t wait for his reply before wrapping him up in a hug, squeezing him tight against me. He wraps his arms around me and leans all his body weight into me. He doesn’t answer me yet, and that’s okay. I’m happy to hold him until he’s ready.

“I’m fine,” he says as we pull apart, and he looks up at me. “I wasn’t here whenever it happened, thankfully. I guess he realized I wasn’t home last night and took the opportunity to fuck all of this up.”

He moves away from me so we can walk inside. He gestures to the inside of the house. I see more destruction everywhere. There are glass shards from the windows all over the floor. It looks like the front windows weren’t the only ones smashed in.

“I should’ve changed the damn locks,” Paul mumbles, shaking his head as we walk around. “It was stupid to think Jerry would respect a restraining order. The asshole is unhinged, Sammy, completely unhinged.”

“You’re not wrong.” I frown, taking in the upsetting scene. More slurs and insults are spray painted inside over the fresh paint we just put down. “Jeez. I can’t imagine putting this much energy into being hateful.”

“Yeah, well, you’re a good person. Can’t say the same for Jerry.” He sighs heavily. I turn back toward him and see the look of helplessness on his face. It hurts me deeply. He kicks an overturned pot on the floor. “It’s like he waited until we were making progress to strike. The son of a bitch has been watching this whole time.”

“He probably has.” As if beating the shit out of Paul wasn’t enough, Jerry is still plotting in the shadows. “There’s no way we could’ve known, though. We did everything we could have.”

“Well…” Paul looks down, wringing his hands and mumbling. “I noticed some little things here and there, but nothing like this. I thought some things were disappearing and being moved around when I wasn’t home, but I guess I was in denial. I chalked it up to forgetfulness or whatever else made sense at the time. I should’ve told you. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, what are you sorry for?” I reach over, tilting his chin so he can meet my eyes. “Don’t beat yourself up. You’re not in the wrong here, Paul. It’s easier to explain things away like that than accept the truth.”

“Yeah, I guess, but you spent all this time helping me. It’s ruined now because I didn’t do more to prevent it.” He looks at me with a gaze full of guilt. “I wasted your time. That’s why I’m sorry.”

“Paul, come on.” I shake my head. I moved my hand from his chin to cup his cheek gently. “I didn’t waste my time. I insisted on helping you, and I loved every second of it. Even if we have to start over it, I wouldn’t consider it a waste of time. We had fun doing it, right? That means it was worth it.”

“Jesus, Sam,” Paul grumbles, but it has a fondness. He leans into my palm. “Stop being so charming. It’s annoying.”

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