After they showered, Clay was glad Sam agreed to stay for a bit. He'd been blown away by the thrill of Sam's fingers inside him and how he found himself responding. He wanted the reassurance of Sam's presence to help him deal with the self-loathe that came with the aftermath. When Sam wrapped his arms around Clay's neck, it felt right.
Sam was so free, so sure of himself and what he wanted that Clay envied him. Clay envied his ease and s****l confidence, his body and his wisdom. He hadn't disclosed his age, but Clay placed him to be older by some years. Not that age mattered.
“How old are you?” he blurted out before he could help himself.
“Twenty-five,” Sam replied. “You?”
“Twenty-two,” Clay was relieved.
Being Twenty-two had been a factor in his finally admitting to himself and to Ti
