Round Robin: Part XII

Once again, it's my turn to add to the round robin. I hope you all are enjoying the story so far. Please forgive any boo-boos, as it's late here and I'm in the middle of a not so fun nicotine fit. Quitting smoking is the pits.

*

Sam stared into Blake’s fathomless eyes and prayed it was his lover running the larger man’s body and not the thing—Gregory—that had been in control earlier. Poor Greg had never been the sharpest crayon, but Sam’s guilt-ridden decision to transform his then lover had only made things infinitely worse. He should have killed Gregory when he had the chance, instead of letting him live, and go on to become the ghoul he was today.

None of that mattered now though. What concerned Sam was whether or not he could discreetly find out who he was dealing with, without informing the staff of what they were dealing with. He had too much on his hands to spend the night in a straight jacket, and that was what would surely happen if he started spouting nonsense about vampires, ghouls, and whatever-the-hell-else was lurking around the corner and waiting to take him on the moment his back was turned.

“Blake,” Sam said, taking a step toward his ex. “You shouldn’t be up, babe. You should be resting.”

“Babe?” Blake said, one dark brow arcing. “You know I hate pet names, Samuel.”

“I’m sorry.” Sam exhaled in relief. He could deal with Blake. “It slipped my mind.” He took Blake by the arm and guided him toward a chair sitting directly inside the door. “Sit please. I need to take care of this,” he gestured to Ken, “and then we need to talk.” If the man was able to walk, then he felt no guilt about putting him on hold while he tended to Ken.

A man could only juggle so many lovers, whether they be ex or current, over the course of one night.

Sam could feel Blake’s angry gaze on his back as he rushed to help Cecilia tighten the restraints on Ken’s arms and legs, but, thankfully, the man remained silent. He ordered a sedative for Ken, praying it would work and buy him some time, and then found an abandoned wheelchair sitting out in the hall for Blake.

He pushed it inside the room, stopping in front of where Blake sat, and set the brake. “Get in.”

“I am not—”

“Shut up,” Sam ordered, the last of his patience withering away.

Blake’s full lips pursed and stood. He stared at the chair as if the seat was going to bite him in the ass the moment his cheeks pressed against it.

“Thank you. Now sit, please. We need to talk in private, but you’re in no shape to be up on your feet.”

Sam pushed Blake down the hall, trying to think of somewhere they could talk without being overhead. There really wasn’t anywhere they could go and be assured of any privacy, so he chose to head back toward Blake’s room. He waited until they were inside, the door closed tight and locked, before letting go of his temper. “All right, big boy, spill your guts. I want to know what’s going on and, so help me God, you’re going to tell me.”

“Or, what? You’re going to have a temper tantrum.” Blake smirked. “The Samuel I knew and loved knows better than to make a threat he can’t back up.”

Sam leaned over the chair, his hands fisting the cold metal framing the chair. “I’ve been threatened, my boyfriend has been attacked and is lying tied to his bed, and I’m fucking exhausted. You have no idea what I’m capable of right now, Blake, so don’t fuck with me.”

Between one needless breath and the next, Blake exploded out of his chair and had Sam shoved up against the wall. He fisted one long-fingered hand in Sam’s hair and jerked his head back, exposing the long, vulnerable line of his throat. “What was that, boy? Don’t fuck with you? I seem to recall you liking my cock buried in your ass. How could I forget the pretty way you begged for me to take you, over and over again until you’re tight hole couldn’t take any more?”

“I…” Sam panted, wide-eyed and hard, as he felt the evidence of Blake’s desire pressing into his abdomen. Jesus, how did he get himself into this shit? “I… We don’t have time for these games right now, Blake.”

Blake licked a long trail up Sam’s neck, from bottom to top, and then nipped at the fleshy lobe of his ear. “I’d say this is exactly what you need. Maybe after I fuck some sense back into your head, you’ll remember your place.”