It was Friday evening, and Sam's day out at the vocational institute had been long and tiring. He'd been out with his team for their first round of practicals and it felt like they'd worked on all the bad furnitures of Massachusetts that day. Their last job had been particular stressful, an emergency call to fix a long towering shelf owned by a stingy baker. The wood had cut in two, wrecking damage on the confections displayed for sale on it and the entire floor was soiled with slippery icing and puddles of chocolate syrup which meant they needed to get the job done fast to enable the baker clean up and close on time.

They had all dispersed, some lucky enough to catch the five-thirty bus. But Sam missed it so he ended up waiting an extra thirty minutes for the six o'clock bus to drive by. He was tired and starving, still aching from the bruise of an iron that happened to fall on his back while he hammered the nails into a new plank. It had been a sour day and he wasn't in the best of moods. But once he was finally seated in the bus, heading downtown towards home, his anger began to dissipate at the prospect of his movie night with Clay.

Sam pulled out his phone from his pocket, slid sideways and began to text Clay.

Sorry I'm running late. I'll see you around nine.

With the help of his autocorrect, he was able to get the words correctly but that didn't still lessen his difficulty in spelling simple words correctly. In the past, he never bothered about spellings when he texted his twinks to come around so he'd mess with them because they'd been solely interested in his body not dylexia. But as it was Clay, Sam felt the need to make an impression. He didn't want the brunnette to think he was dumb.

He texted his Mom next:

B home by 7.

Sam's Mom on the other hand didn't attach much importance to his spellings, being aware of her son's condition. She never imposed education as the only way to be successful, unlike his Dad who made it a point of duty to humiliate him whenever Reece returned home with a trophy for winning a spelling bee competition. He hated how his father's words ran deep, keeping him up late at night as he tried to understand the letters of the English alphabet and forming simple sentences with them. Sometimes he often ended up with stiff headaches, other times he felt depressed but he'd been made to give up his night studies by his Dad after the latter had been threatened with a divorce by his wife for mounting pressure on their son to boost his social ego.

His Mom replied immediately:

Okay honey, how was your day? You can reheat your lasagna because I dished it over an hour ago. I'm off for shopping. See you later.

When Clay had texted Sam the following day after that first lesson, thanking him for a great time, Sam had beamed for a long time. Though Clay hadn't indicated any interest in meeting again, Sam figured that any positive contact after a hookup meant the person was up for more. So he replied that morning, asking if Clay wanted them to get together again. They'd settled for Friday night so Sam could sleep over and he'd been looking forward to it since the beginning of the week.

After he'd showed that Tuesday evening, Sam didn't stay back for long. They'd cleaned the beds together, stripping the sheets off the bed and Clay washed it afterwards. They'd sat down to hot buns, Clay seeming shy and awkward in the aftermath so Sam didn't wish to inconvenience him any further, sticking to safer, irrelevant topics about family, hobbies and everything in between. But when they'd set the empty plate aside, Sam had pulled Clay into a deep kiss which the brunette responded to quite eagerly, pushing back to let Sam roll onto his thighs so they could grind together as they made out. Sam had been really tempted to rip Clay's clothes off for round two but didn't want to outstay his welcome. He'd eventually said his goodbyes and headed off to his apartment, slightly disappointed that Clay hadn't persuaded him to stay further.

The city streets, forever bursting at night gradually faded into a rural scene made up of fewer houses and more foliage and patches of woodland and fields dotting closer to larger houses set in bigger plots of land. It was a normal evening, devoid of clouds and Sam could see the dilapidating bridge hanging over a lake in the distance. He let his mind drift off to Clay again.

Clay had evidently enjoyed what they'd done but Sam had been a bit nervous, knowing it was Clay's first experience with a guy and therefore struggled to make it perfect after Clay had told him that it was what he'd always wanted. Sam didn't want to be an experiment Clay would later think back on and regret.

He'd been patient while Clay massaged him, letting him get comfortable with touching another man. Sam had been hard, so hard and eager to turn over and do all the dirty things he'd been itching to do since he set his eyes on the brunette. But he'd made himself wait. Then Clay had made him turn over and saw his erection, desire burning in his eyes - Sam had been chuffed, wanting to suck him off - but no, he'd wanted to worship Clay's body first, to show he was into it too, to have Clay genuinely convinced that his desire was being reciprocated.

Sam shifted uncomfortably, his cock hardening as those thoughts ran through his mind. He chuckled to himself, recalling how Clay's desperation had got in the way for him to suck and lick on the brunette's nipples. His positive response had emboldened Sam and when Clay had started humping the mattress, his whimpers mixing with the rhythm, Sam decided to roll him over so he could blow him.

Shit! He couldn't wait to see Clay again.

—

Sam made it home after dusk fell. It was a little before seven and his mother had returned from her shopping, her burly frame behind the gas cooker as she asked. “Would you like to have your lasagna now? I've reheated it.”

“Evening Mom.” Sam lingered in the doorway. “Not now. I want to take a shower before anything else. Can't eat with all this grime.”

He still had a boner from thinking about Clay on the bus and would like to sort that out too with a wank. But it'd be the death of him if he let his mother in on his dirty fantasies and activities in the bathroom.

“Okay, well it's on the table if you want it,” She finally turned to him and smiled. “Your dad's not returning today. He was called to Florida to oversee the five-star hotel construction going on there. How do you feel about that?”

“Cheers, Mom.” The house was more peaceful without him around.

Sam came downstairs an hour later, looking more relaxed and less wound up with sexual tension, and wearing a black turtleneck; one with nautical stripes and a scowling hedgehog embroidered on it. He paired it with new denim shorts he picked up from a yard sale the week before, his damp hair sticking to his forehead and he was also clean shaven. He had looked at his reflection in the mirror appreciatively, butterflies hosting a wild party in his stomach as he thought about his date with Clay. In truth, it was more of a booty call than a date since they'd agreed to have no commitments and they weren't eating out, but he didn't care. The experimentation afforded him the opportunity to satisfy his sexual urges at least, with someone worthwhile and dashing as Clay.

“Wow, hot date huh? Who's the new one?” His teenage sister, Andrea asked upon his entry into the kitchen, never taking her eyes off the screen as she typed furiously. Their mother was still there too.

“None of your business, you gossip,” Sam retorted lightly, scooting a chair back to sit. He drew his dinner closer and clasped his hands together to pray briefly. He had nothing against religion even though his lifestyle wasn't ‘supported.’

But these little prayers were what Sam deemed necessary.

“You look lovely, son.” His mother came to sit next to him. “I'm sure whoever he is will find it hard resisting you.” She wiggled her brows teasingly.

His Mom had been a bit alarmed when she learnt he was sleeping with his vocational training teacher and had asked him to call it quits with such a ‘withering old man.’ She'd been quite fond of Frank too but ever since the latter moved away, Sam knew she was waiting for him to start seeing someone new, even though she didn't voice it out at all. He wasn't really up for telling her about Clay because what they were doing was for fun's sake. She was a helpless romantic who was just waiting for him to fall in love and have someone by his side who'd made him smile a little more. But Sam believed those only happened in fairytales; he couldn't envision it happening to him.

“Yeah, sure he will.” He guided a forkful of lasagna into his mouth while Andrea gasped in delight.

“Aha! I knew you can't stay single for the love of God. Go on, tell us about him. Put Mom out of her misery, or she'll explode.”

“Shut up dear,” his mother scolded. “I'm not one of those meddlesome mothers who feel they have to know everything that goes on in the lives of their children. It's his choice to tell us who it is or not.”

Sam grinned. It was true; she never pestered him for any information, but he knew she'd be dying to know because she cared about him and wanted him to be happy.

“This tastes great, Mom,” he gave her a thumbs up. “And yes, I'm going on a date, kinda.”

There was no point explaining an arrangement she'd find horrifying if she came to know about, so Sam was fine calling it a date. “But it's casual, nothing big to it so don't let your hopes up so much.”

“Don't be so sure about that. I've never seen you look so aglow, what's his name?”

Sam smiled as warmth crept up his neck and tainted his cheeks pink. “Clay,” he stuffed his face quickly to distract himself.

“You do like him, don't you?” Andrea's blue eyes crinkled at him softly. He held her gaze, noting the swirls of brown in those eyes, just like his. “You went red when you said his name.”

Sam felt his cheeks flame up even more, unable to deny it.

Women were so bloody perceptive.

“I barely know him,” he shrugged calmly. “We just got started a few days back.”

His mother glared at Andrea when she attempted to speak again. “Off to your bedroom now, Andrea. And get off that Wattpad site. It's time to make a headway on your homework. Off you go!”

Sam chuckled, watching his sister grumble as she retreated into the inner rooms.

“Well dear, when you're ready we'd love to meet him.”

Sam smiled up at her. Best Mom in the world.