A Tinge of Chemistry - 1. A Tinge of Chemistry

"What do you want from me?" Bellowed Sam lest his words be muffled by the storm. "How can they all be wrong? How can it possibly work between us?"

     

"I know we are from worlds apart; I know we have few similarities and even fewer common interests,” said Shawn solemnly as he closed the distance between him and Sam on a deserted street of London amidst a torrential summer storm. He pierced deeply into Sam's deep brown eyes partly hidden behind layers of soaked dark brown fringe while firmly holding Sam by his shoulders. “But we have chemistry, and that is all we need to keep us happily together.”

     

Sam let out a deep sigh as Shawn pulled Sam into his tight embrace. He then whispered softly into Sam's ears, “My heart will never allow me to believe that we don't belong together.”

     

    * * *

     

“Mr. McGuire. Mr. McGuire?” Said the man, waking Shawn from his trance. “Would you like to take a break?”

     

“No, it's fine,” a drop of tears travelled from Shawn's piercing green eyes to his lean chiselled cheeks. “My mind just wandered somewhere else. Where were we?”

     

“You were about to tell me about Jonathan, Mr. Matthews' new love interest,” said the Man, who was sitting on a stark wooden chair facing Shawn who had elegantly draped his six foot three athletic torso across the couch.

     

“Right,” said Shawn with a tinge of melancholy in his voice.

     

    * * *

     

“Well, I first met Jonathan in a venture capitalist convention. We were simply having a perfunctory networking exchange, though as we found similar interests in politics, economics, philosophy, history, travelling and a variety of other areas, we decided to extend our friendship beyond business,” said Sam nonchalantly. “I introduced him to Shawn shortly after our friendship begin to blossom. We would engage in activities, in which Shawn would never, in his life, join me – video gaming, operas, theatres, debates, and even things like chess. And I suppose, as the months pass by, we grew to become close friends.”

     

“And before last week when Shawn had caught the two of you kissing, had the both of you engage in other similar intimacy?” Asked the woman.

     

“No, not that all,” replied Sam. “Before last week, I didn't even think he was interested in me romantically. I honestly saw our relationship as nothing but a rather close friendship.”

     

    * * *

     

“That was such an interesting move!” said Sam in awe, and half in jest as he stared agape at Jonathan while having cards of Civilisation, the Board Game, on one hand, and a glass of red wine on the other. “I've never seen it played like that before in the few games that I had with Shawn!”

     

“Well, I'll take that as a compliment,” quipped Jon as they both giggled.

     

“Sam, I've always wanted to ask you something,” Jon interrupted both the silence and Sam's deep deliberations on his next move. “I hope I'm not sounding too crass here, but for the short few months that I've known you and Shawn, the both of you seem to have nothing in common! I mean, how do you guys stay together?” Asked Jon. “Of course, despite the fact that he is hot as hell; I mean, he is a model after all,” added Jon, in hopes of lightening his earnest enquiry.

     

“All of our friends seem to wonder at that as well. The thing is, we've known each other since forever – since high school. And we've been together for a good five years too. I know that the stories that I tell you often reflect badly on the two of us, but we do love each other,” said Sam.

     

“So you mean, there are other untold love stories besides all the verbal abuse, temper tantrum throwing, and occasional physical abuse stories that you lament to me?” Jon pried with a tone of sarcasm.

     

Sam gave Jon a mock menacing look, acknowledging the contemptuous sarcasm behind Jon's question. “I am sorry. That was inappropriate,” Jon responded in jest, while lifting both his hands up in the air, soliciting a giggle from the both of them.

     

“Focus on the game! Or risk losing all your cities to me!” Sam said with the mimicked tone of a stereotypically vicious and cruel emperor.

     

“Oh Samuel Alistair Matthews, I'd willingly offer all my cities to you in exchange for your hand,” said Jonathan without a trace of mockery.

     

As Sam quizzically looked up to determine if Jon was joking, Jon, in the slickest of gestures, slid his hand to hold the back of Sam's head and moved forward to land his lips on Sam's. Caught amidst the surprise, coupled with the undeniably mild attraction towards Jon, Sam unwittingly returned Jon's gentle kiss.

     

Neither Sam nor Shawn knew if Jon had strategically timed his manoeuvres with the usual time of Shawn's return, but if he did, then he timed it with impeccable precision. Only seconds into the kiss, the apartment door swung open as Shawn entered.

     

It did not take long for Shawn to absorb the scene unfolding before his eyes. Even before Sam and Jon could gain composure after parting their lips, Shawn charged right at Jon and thrust him up against the wall. Jon had a physique similar to Sam; and hence Shawn had little trouble entirely subduing Jon by pinning his lean five foot seven torso against the wall.

     

“Shawn! Please stop!” Shouted Sam as he shut his eyes tight, refusing to confront Shawn's menacing gaze. Shawn's glare pierced deeply into Jon's fearful eyes as he released his grip on Jon's quivering body.

     

    * * *

     

“So your friends seem to think that your relationship with Shawn is unhealthy, would you elaborate on that?” asked the woman.

     

“Well, aside from our almost complete lack of common interest,” Sam sighed “there is also the issue that he is entirely financially dependent on me. His modelling job can hardly support his lifestyle; and I'm technically the sole breadwinner in our relationship. He also has a very short temper and sometimes would physically express his anger.”

     

Sam chuckled. “Ironically, our incompatibility was how we became friends in the first place. He was my physical protection while I was his financial provider.”

    * * *

     

It was but ten years back when Sam and Shawn first conversed in the hallways of South Hampstead High School.

     

Three upper sixth students were surrounding Sam, who was in lower sixth and was but sixteen years old.

     

“What's wrong puny? Mommy and Daddy don't feed you enough? ” Said the lead bully, Anthony who pushed Sam's petite body against the lockers. “Opps, I forgot! You don't have Mommy and Daddy.” Anthony mocked at the fact that Sam was an orphan ever since the age of five.

     

“Hey!” The football star shouted from across the hallway. “Aren't you guys too old to be bullies?” Though he was in Sam's year, and hence a year younger than the bullies, his popularity, reputation and daunting physique were adequate in deterring any upper year students from getting on his bad side. “Besides, don't you think that bullying an orphan would put you on the lowest level of all bullies?”

     

The bullies decided that it was in their best interest to walk away, though they didn't leave without first taunting Sam with glares and mildly pushing him against the lockers.

     

“Hey, I'm Shawn,” the six foot three tall figure stood in grandeur as he extended his hand to Sam.

     

“Sam,” replied Sam meekly while he gave Shawn a weak hand shake.

     

“Let me know if they give you any trouble again, alright?” Winked Shawn before he ambled down the hallway, exuding an aura of confidence and poise.

     

For the next few months, aside from acknowledging nods on the corridors and hallways, the two did not have any substantial encounters until around the start of their upper sixth year. It was drizzling on a Saturday afternoon as Sam was trying to navigate around the east end of London – a rather poor neighbourhood. While arduously trying to spot familiar road signs, Sam's sight landed on a familiar figure sitting on the roadside, surrounded by a few luggages. Curious, Sam drove up for a closer look.

     

“Shawn!” Sam said, as he unwind the windows, “what are you doing out here?”

     

Shawn lifted his head and parted his damp jet black hair, exposing his swollen eyes rimmed with tears. “Nothing,” he replied dejectedly.

     

The coincidental encounter would in days to come be cited frequently by Shawn as an indication that it was fate's intention that the two of them be together despite the lack of acceptance by their peers.

     

“Put your stuff in the trunk and get in the car,” said Sam assertively but Shawn remained still.

     

“You can either do as I say, or I will drag your luggage and your gigantic body myself, which would not only get me all wet and unpleasant but would probably injure my petite body in the process” said Sam once again, with a lighter tone. With that, Shawn did as Sam said.

     

Sam was dialling a number on his cellphone when he noticed that Shawn was standing still next to the car door. “I'll get your car wet,” replied Shawn when Sam's gaze met his.

     

Sam rolled his eyes before reaching over to open the passenger seat door and uttered assertively, “Come in!”.

     

“Hi, Lizzy?” Sam spoke into the cellphone as Shawn sat awkwardly beside him, trying his best not to make a mess of Sam's car. “Please apologise profoundly to Keith and let him know that I will not be able to attend the meeting with Mr. Jackson this afternoon due to a personal emergency. Let him know that he can debrief me tomorrow after our weekly meeting.”

     

“Oh God, I am inconveniencing you aren't I?” said Shawn as he was just about to open his door. Noticing his gesture, Sam immediately pushed the central lock button beside his seat, rendering Shawn's attempt to open the car door abortive.

     

“Can you please stop trying to get away and cooperate with me?” uttered Sam without a scintilla of annoyance in his tone. “I am lost, help me get out of this neighbourhood. Seriously, with my sense of direction, I really should not be driving.”

     

With Shawn's help, the two of them finally arrived at the apartment in which Sam lived. With Shawn's physique, they had little problem in lugging Shawn's belongings into Sam's double room unit.

     

“Who do you live with?” Shawn enquired while admiring the apartment; it was almost as luxurious as a condominium – at least relatively luxurious compared to Shawn's former abode.

     

“Oh I live here by myself,” replied Sam as he looked into Shawn's astonished and befuddled stare. “Well the apartment is not mine, obviously, since I am but seventeen. It belongs to Keith, this person I work for. I got acquainted to him when he offered some internship positions at his venture capitalist firm to the kids at our orphanage. I had worked for him in the past two years, and he allowed me to stay in this empty apartment of his.” Sam paused and gave Shawn a moment to absorb all the information. “So what's your story? Why were you by the road with all your belongings?”

     

Shawn remained silent, hesitant to answer Sam's questions. He looked around at all his luggage around Sam's apartment and realised that Sam probably would not let him out of the apartment if he didn't answer the questions anyway.

     

“My dad kicked me out,” Shawn stuttered. “He had been hitting my mom, and I couldn't take it any more so I hit him back.” In a way, Sam was quite fascinated by the situation as he had never seen the vulnerable facade of the ever confident football star before.

     

“Well it's really not all that bad,” Shawn tried to lighten the mood. “It's really not all that rare in our neighbourhood. I'll probably just need to take a break from school for a year, and earn some money so that I can finish up the year after. And I can probably move in with my aunt.”

     

“Why don't you stay here for now?” asked Sam, which elicited a blank stare from Shawn. “I've always wanted to get a housemate to be honest; just didn't have the time to look for one. The apartment is pretty large, and it's such a waste of space. And unless you live on exorbitant feasts, I can cover for decent meals for the both of us. I can also provide for a reasonable amount of allowance for your miscellaneous expenses. If you feel bad about it, you can be my driver and drive me around since I spend way too much time getting lost. I probably should have invested in that new global positioning system technology. You can also clean the apartment since I hardly have time. You don't need to if you don't feel like it though; let's just say that I am repaying you for the months of not having to be bullied.” Sam winked with a smile.

     

    * * *

     

“And that was the foundation of our relationship,” Sam gave a light laugh. “I'd rely on him physically; he'd drive me around, clean the house, handle the furniture or anything that required physical finesse, while he'd rely on me financially.”

     

“What about instances of abuse?” asked the woman.

     

“Well, it's really not as bad as it sounds; it's just that he is a little hot-headed and can be a little rough sometimes.” answered Sam. “Like that day after Jon left the apartment.”

     

    * * *

     

Shawn was still panting with anger as Jon hastily collected his belongings before leaving the apartment. With his eyes still shut, Sam could feel Shawn's piercing glare on him. Sam slowly dilated his eyes to Shawn's visage which was seemingly furious but was in actual fact imbued with pain. Shawn walked towards Sam with palpable disappointment and agony.

     

In a swift moment, he swept Sam into his hand, and held Sam firmly in his arms as he walked into their bedroom. With a swing of his leg, he slammed the door behind them, and threw Sam onto their bed. Shawn then saddled Sam firmly between his muscular legs and pinned Sam's arms down with his calloused hands. Shawn ripped his v-neck shirt off, revealing his well-toned pectorals and abs. He then violently tore Sam's dress-shirt apart as he forcefully kissed and sucked on Sam's neck and chest.

     

“Shawn...” Sam whimpered.

     

In the same rough manner, Shawn removed every strand of clothing between them. Using only spit as lube, Shawn forced his fingers into Sam's puckered ass, as he suckled and bit on Sam's nipples. Then, without warning, Shawn thrust his 9-inch pulsating dick into Sam, eliciting a moan laced with pain. Like a wild animal, Shawn thrust in and out of Sam. He maintained his stern gaze on Sam as he watched Sam squirm under his sweating torso.

     

“You're mine; you're all mine,” Shawn whispered as he intermittently ran his tongue along Sam's ears, neck and chest.

     

“Oh I'm going to cum; you're going to make me cum so hard babe,” Shawn moaned. “Will you cum for me too babe?” Shawn slid his hand to Sam's cock and brought it to life as he firmly stroked it. “Oh yeah, baby, oh yeah!” Shawn wailed as he forced a final thrust into Sam's hips, squirting gallons of warm cum into Sam's ass. Right on that cue, Sam too ejaculated on his chest.

     

Then, like most nights after orgasm, when the couple would bask in their afterglow, Shawn cuddled up to Sam, laid his head on Sam's chest and wrapped his limbs to engulf Sam's torso. Alas, unlike the other nights, the mood was much more solemn that night.

     

“I'm sorry,” murmured Shawn as a drop of tears fell on Sam's chest.

     

“Shh... shh...” consoled Sam as he gently stroked Shawn's hair. “It's alright. I'm sorry.”

     

“Do you love him?” asked Shawn as he cringed at his own question.

     

“No, I definitely do not love him,” answered Sam.

     

“But you have feelings for him?” probed Shawn.

     

“I guess I do,” sighed Sam. “I don't know what's wrong with me Shawn; maybe I'm being affected by all the disapproval on our allegedly unhealthy relationship and all those talk on how we'd never work out.”

     

“Or maybe they are right, and that I am not good enough for you,” Shawn strengthened his grip on Sam at his own statement.

     

    * * *

     

“So you see, it's really not as bad as people would like to believe. I have never really objected to his occasional violence, and he has never gone so far as to really hurt me,” said Sam. “That's how we work. He enjoys being in a position of physical supremacy and I enjoy knowing that I provide for us financially.”

     

“And you don't see how that's unhealthy?” responded the woman. “Sam, what he did to you was rape. You're in a relationship where both parties want to exercise power on the other – you, financially; and him, physically. There is a huge power imbalance there. You have also been led to believe that it is okay – that the abuse is okay – but it is not. And these kind of relationships where there is a power imbalance never lead to happiness.”

     

“Hold on a second, you lost me there,” said Sam. “The relationship Shawn and I have seems to provide the two of us more happiness compared to the relationship of our peers. To others, it might be perceived as 'power imbalance', but to us, we are complementing each other with our competitive edge. And you're telling me that even if we were to both tell you that we are happy with what we have, you'd say that it is because we have been tricked to believe that we are happy, and hence are not truly happy?”

     

“In a way yes. I have seen countless examples of such relationships and it might seem inconceivable, but once you step out of it, you'd be able to see how manipulated you were,” said the woman.

     

Sam chuckled. “So even if someone is happy, they might not be truly happy, but can be instead being manipulated into happiness. And I guess, you get to decide what constitutes true happiness and what constitutes manipulated happiness, right? Sometimes I feel that we have become obsessed with working on these so called 'flaws' of a relationship – power imbalance, age difference, mentality difference, etc. I guess the argument is that it'd make the relationship better? But perhaps, if both parties can be happy living with the flaw, why stress over fixing it? Arguably we would always find flaw after flaw anyway, so maybe if we learn to be happy with it, it would be better than obsessively working to remove countless flaws after flaws.”

     

    * * *

     

“I know it sounds horrible, but it's just how we roll,” said Shawn. “I can get a little rough sometimes, but I don't think I'd ever have the heart to hurt him if he insisted that I stop. Like when I had Jonathan up against the wall, my blood was boiling with rage, but all Sam needed to do was to tell me to stop, and I'd release Jonathan without even thinking of hurting him.”

Shawn hesitated momentarily. “Though sometimes I do lose my temper a little and shout at him. Maybe he was never okay with it even though he has always told me that it was fine. Maybe that's why he doesn't love me as much any more,” Shawn said with tears brimming in his eyes.

     

“How was it that the both of you fell in love in the first place?” asked the man.

     

“After high school, he furthered his studies in the Imperial College of London while I started working at a pub while seeking modelling opportunities. He continued to work for Keith and even bought the apartment as soon as he was eighteen. He insisted that he would rather have me as his personal driver as opposed to receiving rent and food payments. I decided to also do the cleaning and cooking as well. To be honest, even then, I really enjoyed spending time with and doing things for him. I suppose, in retrospect, one would say that I was infatuated with him even then in our teenage years, but I have never expected anything beyond friendship. I knew I was interested in men, and had dated many guys during those years, but I just never thought I would ever end up dating Sam. Well, first off, I always assumed him to be straight since he didn't mention anything when I told him I was gay. And I suppose, back then, I did feel that we were indeed from two different worlds, and I would never dream to be with such an intelligent, successful and handsome man – he was like the most eligible bachelor in town.

     

And despite our lack of common interest, we really just enjoyed being in each others' company. We would always eat dinner together, and even if we had no topic of conversation, we could enjoy the pleasant silence between us. Instead of isolating ourselves in our respective rooms, we'd also prefer to spend time in the living room. We'd both be sitting on the same couch with our laptops – he'd normally be working while I was typically surfing for hot hookups.” Shawn chuckled.

     

    * * *

     

Sitting on the long black leather couch facing the wide-screen television on the news channel was Shawn and Sam with their laptops – both intently attending to their own work, basking in the comfortable presence of the other.

     

“So handsome,” said Shawn to Sam. “A few friends and I are going out tomorrow evening, and there is a girl you might like to meet. And don't even bother telling me you're busy, I checked your schedule.”

     

Sam looked up at Shawn and gave a light sigh, though before he could speak, Shawn interjected. “I know, I know, you don't like clubbing and dancing, and have never really seem interested in all my female friends before, but this one is different. Amber is actually pretty intellectual, and pretty hot too! You know there is no point being the most eligible bachelor in town without bothering to actually date the girls.”

     

Sam took a long pause to search for words but ended up with another sigh. “Fine, if reason cannot persuade you, I'd have to use force then!” Shawn lunged towards Sam, pinning him down on the couch after placing their laptops on the coffee table.

     

“Are you going to come?” Said Shawn as he tickled Sam eliciting involuntary laughter.

     

“Shawn, I don't think it's a...” Shawn did not wait for Sam to finish his sentence before he started tickling Sam mercilessly once again.

     

“Alright, alright, stop, stop!” Sam yielded. “I'll go, but I probably won't be interested though I don't mind being friends.”

     

    * * *

     

“And it was that night that I finally realised that I have always wanted to be more than just friends with Sam. Amber and him hit it off much better than I had imagined in my mind. We were having a couple of drinks in a friend's house before heading off to a club, and they were just in their own world talking about topics like economics and politics.

     

I realised that I have never seen Sam flirted with anybody before. And although I knew he was straight, in my mind, I had the illusion that he was mine, since I was his only close friend. And when he talked so cordially with another girl right before my eyes, pangs of jealousy pervaded every inch of my heart."

     

    * * *

     

The walls of the club reverberated with the latest hip music as Sam, Shawn and their friends danced vigorously on the dance floor.

     

“You lied!” shouted Shawn to Sam's ears amidst the loud clubbing music. “You told me you've never been to a club before, but the way you dance says otherwise.”

     

“It's called blending in, it's part of my job,” Sam shouted back. “Monkey see, monkey do!” Sam winked, which elicited a flutter from Shawn's stomach. 'God he is cute,' Shawn thought to himself.

     

Shawn tried to ignore the fact that Sam was dancing away with Amber to no avail. 'Oh screw it, I'll regret this tomorrow and Amber can blame me for being a bad friend, but I can't take this any more,' Shawn thought as he sneaked up behind Sam.

     

Shawn placed his arms on Sam's waist and uttered in Sam's ears, “can't have you leaving tonight without seeing how we gays dance.” Shawn then proceeded to pull out every seductive dance move he had on his sleeves for Sam. From manoeuvring his hands all over Sam's body to grinding his hips into Sam's, Shawn essentially performed a mild strip tease for Sam, eliciting whistles from the crowd.

     

Later that night, Shawn held a rather drunk Sam back to his bedroom.

     

“You're such an obedient drunk,” Shawn commented as unlike his other friends, Sam didn't fiddle or struggle much when Shawn carried him home or placed him on his bed. “That'll make changing your clothes much easier too.”

     

Sam chuckled. “I am not that drunk to not be able to change myself.”

     

“You just lay there, relax and enjoy Shawn's Special Treatment for Drunk Lads,” quipped Shawn as he arrived with a warm towel – with an ulterior motive in mind.

     

He first removed Sam's shirt, and gently dabbed the warm towel along Sam's upper torso – from the forehead, to the neck, to the pectorals and finally to the abs. Upon removing Sam's pants, leaving Sam with only his boxer briefs, he deftly manoeuvred the towel along Sam's inner thighs, stimulating every erogenous zone of a man.

Shawn has perfected the technique along the years; gay or straight, any man would be aroused at the end of it. And in line with Shawn's expectations, Sam's hard-on was visible through his white boxer briefs.

     

Shawn took the bold move to cup his hands over Sam's dick. “I guess I'll have to take care of that too,” he said before sliding his warm mouth along Sam's hard cock through the sensual fabric of Sam's briefs.

     

“Shawn, what are you doing?” Sam mumbled, half in trance.

     

“Shh, it's alright,” Shawn whispered as he moved up to gaze into Sam's mesmerising brown eyes. “It's just a little fun between dudes.” Shawn could not resist but to have his lips meet Sam's. As Shawn explored Sam's mouth, he stroked Sam's dick into a pulsating six inch hard-on, eliciting moans and squirms from Sam.

     

Shawn then fully undressed himself before removing Sam's briefs, stained with pre-cum. He easily took in the entire of Sam's hard cock. Shawn adeptly worked on all of Sam's six inches with suction and tongue play as Sam thrust his hips into Shawn's face while tightening his grip over Shawn's hair. Shawn proceeded to lie above Sam and frotted his pre-cum dripping cock against Sam's while nibbling on Sam's ears and neck.

     

“Shawn, you're going to make me cum,” Sam murmured into Shawn's ears as he tightens his grip around Shawn's back. Right after ending the sentence, Sam squirted all over their bodies, serving as lubrication to the frotting.

     

“Oh God, Sam, I'm going to cum too!” Shawn moaned. “Ah!” Shawn gave out a wail as he shot out stream after stream on Sam.

     

    * * *

     

“I probably never had a better orgasm before then; I was even surprised that I could get one just from frotting. We slept peacefully in each other's embrace that night. It was interesting how with all other guys, they usually cuddle up to me since I almost always have a bigger torso, but with Sam, even though he was probably half my size, I would entwine myself all around Sam and lay comfortably on his chest. Around him, I could allow myself to feel all vulnerable and to nestle in the sense of security he provided. Maybe it was because we have known each other for a long time; or maybe it was because he has seen me in my weakest moments and never failed to help me; or maybe it was because I was starting to fall in love with him.”

     

    * * *

     

“Good Morning,” said Sam in a rather cheerful tone to a rather drowsy Shawn who was beginning to rouse himself from slumber by slowly dilating his eyes. Shawn took some time to absorb the scene laid before him – Sam engaged in his typical Sunday laundry routine while he himself sprawled naked on Sam's bed with a duvet barely draped over his waist to keep his modesty intact.

     

“Why aren't you freaked out?” Asked a rather bemused Shawn to Sam who was about to leave his room with a basket filled with laundry. “Well, most allegedly straight guys freak out after a night of fooling around,” said Shawn as he sat up casually, pulling the duvet with him. “Or did you not remember what happened last night.”

     

Sam chuckled. “I love how you all just assume that I'm straight without actually asking me.” Sam said as he walked out of the room with his laundry. “I don't think I was that drunk to engage in sexual behaviour with someone of a gender that I was not inclined to find sexually attractive.”

     

Bewilderment would be an understatement to describe Shawn's pale visage and bulging eyes as he took a moment to absorb Sam's words.

     

“What do you mean you're not straight!” Shawn shouted as he attempted to rush out of the room, hardly having dressed himself with his white boxer briefs lying on the floor.

     

“What do you mean you're not straight,” repeated Shawn as he stood before Sam with but a pair of white briefs that was hardly able to conceal his full-fledged nine-inch morning erection. Though modesty was not too much of a concern for a man who just discovered that the man he realised he had long harboured romantic feelings for was actually gay.

     

“It means I'm gay?” Sam shrugged. “Always have been; it's just that nobody asked.”

     

Partly astounded and partly befuddled, Shawn stood transfixed – confused on whether he should be feeling happy or morose upon the new revelation. 'Why has he not told me for the years that I have lived with him?', 'Why is he telling me this now?' Thought Shawn.

     

“So last night...” stuttered Shawn, who did not know how to complete the sentence.

     

“I understand, it was just in good fun,” said Sam without even so much as to look at Shawn, occupied with stuffing his laundry into the washing machine. “Won't happen again.”

     

'It was all in good fun' thought Shawn. 'I guess that's why he never bothered telling me – it didn't matter because he wasn't interested in me anyway. Why would he be?.'

     

In the next few weeks following the revelation, Shawn had a surge in his sexual activities – partly to take his mind off the new-found unrequited love for Sam, and partly, which he bitterly admitted, in hope of triggering some sort of jealousy within Sam which would perhaps then result in Sam discovering his dormant love for Shawn. For clarification purposes, a surge for Shawn meant increasing from one new hookup a week to three.

     

It was on just another Saturday night when Sam came home to two conventionally muscular and hot young lads passionately entwined on his couch making out. Shawn was careful to not pick body types close to Sam's to effectively serve his purpose of seeking distractions to drown out his desire for Sam.

     

“Sorry! Didn't know you'd get home so early.” Shawn uttered while he temporarily broke off from being glued from head to toe to his weekly boy toy; though Shawn knew perfectly when Sam would be arriving home from his conference.

     

“Don't let me bother you, just ignore my presence as I scuttle to my room,” said Sam in jest. “You're just trying to tempt me to join by doing it on the couch aren't you?”

     

“Care to join?” said Shawn, with his best efforts to feign nonchalance. A laugh was all that statement elicited from Sam as he entered his room while shutting the door. Shawn could not deny that, albeit the response was no more than expected, his heart crestfallenly sunk. At the risk of sounding cliché, despite the ripped pectorals, toned abs and model-worthy faces at Shawn's grasps, all he could ever wish for was Sam's relatively slender body and cute smile.

     

“Give it up,” said Jane, a rather close companion of Shawn on one of their lunch dates. “Even if he did return your feelings, it would never work anyway. The two of you literally resemble the sun and moon, the earth and sky, north and south...”

     

“Alright, we're from two different worlds, I get it,” interrupted the surly Shawn.

     

“Nothing good would have came out of it honey. You don't have common friends or even common interests. He won't be able to indulge in your clubbing lifestyle and you probably would rather die than to attend his networking events,” continued Jane. “I am sure I am not the only one telling you this, and I am sure you see it yourself too – Sam and you just do not belong together.”

     

    * * *

     

“And with that consensus – 'Sam and I do not belong together' – from literally every close friend, I tried to get Sam out of my head. I even tried dating guys instead of having hookups; alas, to no avail as well. The entire farce lasted for about three long months.”

     

    * * *

     

“So what are you up to tonight?” asked Shawn to Sam in another one of their typical couch-conversation moments.

     

“Nothing much, you?” responded Sam, without removing his eyesight from his laptop.

     

“Oh, nothing much either. I am going on another date with Kevin though,” responded Shawn. “I think this one might actually last a little longer than the others. I mean, he is actually nice, and kind, and pretty intelligent too.”

     

“That's great,” said Sam while actually diverting his attention from his laptop by turning towards Shawn with a wide smile.

     

“Fuck, Sam!” Shawn yelled out of no where while erecting himself from the couch.

     

Startled, Sam stood up as well. “What's wrong?” Silence loomed between them amidst the resonating sound of a downpour outside. In but a split second, Shawn thrust Sam against the wall and pinned Sam's body firmly against it. He stared straight into Sam's confused brown eyes and pressed his lips against Sam's. Though, before the flabbergasted Sam could even respond to his sudden kiss, Shawn pulled back and retreated a few steps from Sam.

     

“I can't do this any more!” cried Shawn with tears cascading down his cheeks. “I don't think even dating the world would make me love you less. I end up just trying to get you jealous but you don't even seem to be affected by it, so in the end it makes me feel like the greatest fool in the world! I am sorry for just blurting this out to you Sam; you don't deserve this shit, but I am just going insane! I love you Sam.”

     

“You what?” uttered Sam in shock.

     

“Right, feign innocence; that's what you do best isn't it?” said Shawn, irrationally lashing out at Sam. “You conveniently left out the fact you were gay throughout all these years that we've lived together even though you knew I was. Then you just suddenly drop it like a bombshell on me conveniently the day after I realised that I've been in love with you for as long as I knew. And I know you're not interested in me, but how can you not feel even a tinge of jealousy when you see me hooking up and dating all these random people! Is there not even a scintilla of affection for me in there?”

     

“Wow, hold on there,” said Sam, having recovered his composure. “I didn't tell you I was gay because I thought it would be irrelevant anyway. It's not like I would ever date or bring a guy home; and it was not like you would be interested in a skinny geek like me. And how could I even feel jealous. I mean, technically, if you love someone, you want them to be happy even if they are not with you right?”

     

“But I'd only be happy if I am with you!” Shawn paused; he slowly lifted his face to meet Sam's, whose eyes brimmed with tears. “Did you just say that you love me?”

     

Sam who was close to having an anxiety attack from the confrontation, in a flash of the moment, ran out the apartment door right next to him. Shawn kept up behind, following Sam into the streets of London mildly flooded by the torrential storm.

     

“Sam! Stop!” Shouted Shawn with all his breath.

     

“What?” responded Sam as he turned to face Shawn, with rainwater beginning to soak their hair and attire.

     

“So you mean you love me?” asked Shawn. “More than just a friend?”

     

When Sam remained silent for more than half a minute, Shawn understood the silence and proceeded with another question, “Since when?”

     

“Since when you first winked at me after saving me from a bunch of bullies ten years ago,” answered Sam meekly.

     

“Back then?” said Shawn, who then became the shocked one instead. “So you already had feelings for me when you took me in after my dad threw me out?”

     

“Yeah,” responded Sam. “But it was not like I expected anything more than friendship. I was really just happy being able to contribute, even a little, to your well-being. Who in their right mind would think that you could return my feelings? Besides, everybody was telling me that even if you did, by some sort of miracle, we would never work out anyway; we're from two different worlds.”

     

“So you're going to ignore the fact that we've both been pining for each other just because people think that we don't belong together?” asked Shawn despite being afraid of the answer.

     

"What do you want from me?" Sam bellowed lest his words be muffled by the storm. “You come now, suddenly telling me that you love me after I have long resigned that I would be contented for the rest of my life just loving you from afar. And now, in the middle of a storm, you are asking me if I think we should get together? How can they all be wrong, Shawn? How can it possibly work between us?"

     

"I know we are men from worlds apart; I know we have few similarities and even fewer common interests,” Shawn said solemnly as he closed the distance between him and Sam on a deserted streets of London amidst a torrential summer storm. He pierced deeply into Sam's deep brown eyes partly hidden behind layers of soaked dark brown fringe while firmly holding Sam by his shoulders. “But I can't just ignore all that has happened between us. I mean look at all the wonderful coincidences – meeting you at the hallway; meeting me at the street pavement. And don't you enjoy just spending time with me? I know I do. I know that when I am beside you, even if we are doing nothing, I would feel more warmth and happiness than I would ever feel doing all of my favourite things. Can't you just hear that voice in you that tells you that we belong together despite what the world says? We have THE ingredient – one that most other couples would die to have. We have some sort of magical chemistry ordained by fate, and that is more than what we need to keep us happily together.”

     

    * * *

     

“I guess I was naively optimistic after all. Why would anyone like Sam stay in love with someone who is not only useless but also verbally and physically abuses his boyfriend?” Shawn lamented, with streams of tears damping the couch he laid on.

     

The door flung open, revealing a rather apprehensive Sam. Both the man and Shawn stood out of astonishment at Sam's interruption.

     

“I don't care any more,” said Sam, who stood transfixed in the doorway. “We might not be the best match or the happiest couple around, but we do have something – we do love each other. We might not have a lot in common, but why does it matter when we are happy just being with each other, even in silence? Sometimes things get tough, and I forget all the special things we have; but I am willing to work through it with you.” Sam gulped. “If you are willing to give me another chance, that is.”

     

Without a word or even a breath, Shawn leaped towards Sam and pulled Sam into his tight embrace. Shawn held their heads together, while deeply breathing in Sam's distinct scent, feeling that he would never ever let Sam out of his embrace ever again.

     

    * * *

     

“You were so flirting with him!” Shawn yelled at he slammed the door behind him on one Thursday five years after the therapy session.

     

“That's part of my job Shawn,” said Sam, sounding defeated. “And it's not flirting, it's just networking. Why would I bring you to social events if I were actually trying to flirt with guys?”

     

“So you're selling your charms for financial gain now?” said Shawn, fuming with anger. “What's next, sleeping for money?”

     

“Well Shawn, who else is going to bring in the money for your exorbitant partying lifestyle!” said Sam, having lost his composure.

     

“That's swell, bringing up that card again aren't we?” retorted Shawn.

     

“Oh God, please don't tell me we'd have to see the therapists again,” said Sam. With that comment, a sudden rush of emotion pervaded the both of them. The vile argument suddenly transitioned into silence with the both of them intently staring into each others' eyes.

     

Without having another word pass between them, they rushed towards each other, engaged in a passionate kiss with hands groping one another through the sensual fabric of their dress suits, while gradually moving towards their bedroom, and eventually falling onto their bed as they clumsily remove what stood between their aching naked bodies.

    * * *

     

“Sure, our relationship would never be rid of occasional disagreements, arguments or fights, but as long as we remind ourselves that our relationship was never built on similar mindsets or matching personalities but something much much stronger, which we always do, we would never find it in our hearts to stop loving one another, and would never fail to compensate fallouts with very very hot make outs,” quipped Samuel.

     

“Very very hot,” added Shawn.

     

Perhaps sometimes, with a tinge of chemistry, there is nothing more one could wish for.