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Fall was easily Sam Wilson’s favorite time of year, and not just because his birthday helped kick the season off. Muggy Louisiana mornings shifting to cooler, crisper temperatures; leaves changing colors, before blanketing the earth in rich golden, burnt orange, and copper hues; college football on the television all Saturday long; cookouts and bonfires, his mama’s crockpot cider—Sam loved it all.
Especially Halloween.
From his very first Halloween, dressed up in a skeleton onesie because he was all of one-month-old and his mama wasn’t about to waste money on an outfit that would just make her baby hot and miserable to last year’s Blade banger, he could rock a costume.
This year was different though.
At 18, officially out to his parents and openly dating his first real boyfriend, Sam wasn’t about to kick up a fuss. Since Micah wasn’t into the whole dressing up thing, Sam shelved the impulse, compromising with a date to what was being touted as the scariest haunted house in all of New Orleans instead. Sam had sprung for tickets to tour it on October 31st, no less, the perfect way to cap off his favorite holiday. If Micah had insisted on inviting his football friends along, no bother. They’d driven separately. Most of them had brought their own girlfriends. This was still a date. Micah was still his boyfriend. And it was really no big deal.
Sam tamped down his disappointment, everything with Micah never going quite like he expected. Their first kiss sloppy and laden with alcohol. Their first time rushed and painful, the next few not all that much better, Micah more focused on finishing for himself than Sam’s needs. He told himself that was okay—they’d both been virgins and these things took time, but Sam couldn’t shake the fear that Micah might not grow out of these selfish tendencies.
Now, they were in the darkened corridor that led to the start of the house, anticipation churning through Sam because it was almost their turn, even as he also scrolled diligently on his phone. Not great date behavior he knew, but Sam had an excuse. His sister-in-law was currently at Ochsner, giving birth to the first of the next generation of Wilsons, Sam’s phone blowing up with texts from a frantic Gideon, an exhausted Kendra, his excited mom, a prayerful dad, and an upset little sister. “I’m sorry,” Sam murmured, peering at his phone as he reminded Sarah that Kendra and Gideon had only wanted their mothers at the hospital, so she wasn’t being slighted. He sent the text, immediately fielding the next one that came through. “I know this is annoying,” he told Micah, impressed that his typically self-centered partner had been so patient with him. He leaned back against Micah’s chest, soaking up his sturdy strength. It was nice, being able to lean on someone like this, after so many years of hiding. Of feeling alone. “I know I keep getting distracted. I’m just worried about Kendra, ya know?” He took a deep breath, willing his anxiety away. Women had babies all the time. His mother was there. Gideon was there. Kendra would be fine. His soon-to-arrive nephew would be fine. “I’m putting my phone up. Promise.” He closed his eyes, burrowing into the haven provided by the rock-solid torso behind him. He reached back, grabbing Micah’s arm and bringing it around so that it could wrap around his abdomen. Sam draped the hand that wasn’t clutching the phone over it, humming in contentment. “This is perfect,” he said, smile weak and pensive, the slight heaviness that suddenly filled his chest upon uttering the word alerting him that something wasn’t right. Nothing had ever felt ‘perfect’ with Micah. Most days they teetered somewhere around just okay. Yet here he stood feeling completely safe, all wrapped up in Micah’s arms, wrapped up in his scent…
Except…
That wasn’t really Micah’s scent. Too much amber, not enough pine—because Micah went hard on the antiperspirant and always smelled a little like a Christmas tree. His arm felt different too, wrapped all protectively around Sam with nary a hint of grinding in sight. Micah…well, Micah wasn’t much of a cuddler. Any attempt Sam made usually led to roving hands and expectant kisses.
Sam’s stomach hardened as he took a shaky breath, his thoughts jumbled and flailing. He fumbled for his phone, striking the side button to bring his home screen to life as he spun around and cast light on the person behind him. To his horror, it wasn’t his boyfriend but a stranger staring back at him in bewildered panic. “Hi?” the guy, who looked to be about his age said, voice small and uncertain. “I’m Bucky.”
Sam pushed the arm still wound securely around his waist away. “What the hell, man?!” His whisper was accusatory but hushed, since he didn’t want to draw attention from anyone waiting in the line behind them. Who the hell was Bucky…and what had he done with Micah?
The guy—Bucky—held up his hands, retreating a careful step though there wasn’t much room to move with the line of bodies pressing forward wanting to get into the haunted house. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”
Sam let out a huffy breath. “You knew I thought you were someone else. Ain’t nobody gonna go around grabbing a stranger like that. And you just let me…why’d you do that?”
“Apparently you haven’t been to many clubs. Plenty of people feel free to grab strangers all they want.”
“Well, I’m not one of them. And we’re not in a club. And you know damn well, I thought you were someone else.”
“Look, I wasn’t trying to be creepy,” Bucky rushed to defend. “You just took me by surprise, is all. And before I could process what was happening, you figured it out and it got all weird. I just didn’t know what to do.”
Sam cringed, because yeah, this was all on him. He’s the one who had basically groped Bucky in the darkness, accident or not. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s a dick move to be blaming you when I’m the one who grabbed you like that. I thought you were my boyfriend. He was standing right behind me like a minute ago.” He angled his head, staring down the line of people. No Micah in sight. “Now, I guess, he’s not.”
“That guy you were with? Backwards ball cap? Obnoxious laugh? Stupid-looking shirt? He stepped out of line a few minutes ago and went that way.”
Sam arched both brows at the less than flattering description before all of Bucky’s words fully registered. “Wait. He just left me here? In this haunted house line by myself? When we’ve been waiting for thirty minutes?” Sam might have felt bad for not noticing his boyfriend had left, but didn’t he deserve a heads-up at least? It wasn’t like he was the only one glued to his phone, half of Micah’s days spent on Snapchat and Insta. At least Sam had a solid reason for being preoccupied tonight. What was Micah’s excuse every other damn time?
“Maybe he’s coming back?”
“When? We’re next in line! That door is gonna open any second now. And here I am getting groped by strangers.”
“I thought we just established you did the groping, and I was an innocent bystander.”
“Yeah, you still had plenty of time to pull away and say something, don’t play.”
Bucky ducked his head, his expression sheepish. “Yeah okay. You’re right. I’m sorry about that. About, ya know, not saying anything.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Look, you shocked me, okay? I really didn’t know what to make of the whole thing, that’s the truth. And I don’t know. It was kinda nice, I guess. I mean, look at you. The hottest guy in the pumpkin patch puts his hands on you. What are you gonna do? Me? I’m gonna hold on. At least until he comes to his senses.”
Sam’s mouth went dry, his pulse leaping at Bucky’s candor. “You can’t just say things like that to me. I have a boyfriend.”
Bucky gave a lopsided grin, glancing around in exaggerated curiosity. “Do you? I couldn’t tell.”
“You know what? No. You don’t get to do that.” He had enough people in his life telling him Micah wasn’t worth his time—his parents, his siblings, Titi, Riley. He didn’t need some stranger adding fuel to that fire. Even if said stranger had a point. Even if said stranger was also ridiculously attractive in a pretty, chiseled kind of way. Sam wasn’t even sure what his type was at this point. The few furtive kisses and touches he managed with other closeted boys before Micah did not give him a clear indication. But he had to admit, there was something about Bucky’s shrewd blue-gray eyes and easy smirk that was enticing. “Also, we’re not at a pumpkin patch.”
“Shame. Call me dorky, but I love a good pumpkin patch.”
Oh that…okay, yeah. So, this was happening. Sam’s heart did something funny. How could it not, when Micah had flat-out refused to take him to one last weekend, calling them (and thus, Sam by association) too childish. Laughable really that a guy who liked to screech like a pterodactyl at frat parties would call anyone childish. “Me too.”
“Huh, imagine that. Guess we’ll just be dorky together.”
“Wait, did you just call me a pumpkin?”
“A hot one.”
“I can’t even begin to unpack that right now.” He blew out a breath, shame washing over him. “Damn. This is so embarrassing. All of it. Accosting you like that…” Standing out here about to go into a scary as hell haunted house alone, because his date had wandered off. He didn’t say that part though. He had his pride, after all.
“Really. It’s all right.”
Sam cast a mournful look at the door, blowing out a disappointed sigh. “I guess I better go. Find him. We came with some friends, he’s probably back somewhere with them. Getting concessions or something.”
“Wait, so he got out of line to go hang out with his buddies and didn’t tell you. Now you’re going to get out of line, too, even though it’s your turn and go join him?”
Sam winced, because that…that made him sound pathetic. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?”
“Make me sound like a Stepford Wife right now.”
Bucky titled his head to the side, a slow smile building on his face as he tentatively reached for Sam’s hand. When Sam made no move to pull away, he carefully leaned down to inspect it. Sam vehemently tried to ignore the shiver of awareness dancing down his spine. “I definitely don’t see a ring on it.”
He hesitated, swallowing hard, glancing back at the door with indecision.
“Come on. This line is stupid long. You really wanna go through it again?”
Bucky had a point. He’d bought the damn tickets, planned the date, and compromised on costumes. The least Micah could do was not blow him off to go hang with their friends. This was supposed to be something fun to do with his boyfriend, but his boyfriend had dropped the ball. Now what? He really wanted to see this house, but… “I don’t wanna do it by myself.”
“You won’t have to.”
There it was, the idea tantalizing, just shy of forbidden. Bucky was standing here alone. Sam was standing here alone. They could do this together. There was nothing inherently wrong with Bucky’s suggestion…but it also didn’t feel exactly right. Before he could answer, the door started creeping open. It was now or never. Get out of line and go find Micah. Or stay. Take a chance on Bucky. Sam shoved his phone in his back pocket, licking his bottom lip as he threw caution to the wind and grabbed Bucky’s hand. “Fuck it, let’s go.”