Heart's Redemption (MxM)

Chapter 7 ~ Ian

The more I learn about Sam, the less I know what to think of him.

He'd told me all about demons and stuff over the seven hours we spent on the road today, but to be honest I didn't understand much. There were too many names to remember, too many 'levels' and 'realms' and too many rules. In the end, I gave up trying to learn anything and just listened. It kept him busy, and he's got a nice voice.

The important thing, as far as I'm concerned, is that Sam can see the damn things and tell if a person is possessed or not. That's good enough for me.

There's been no sign of trouble since the diner, but we've stuck to back roads and we've barely stopped all day.

My truck already stands out, and with a busted window and a few bullet holes, it'll be hard for anyone who's looking for it to miss. I need to get it fixed as soon as possible, so, when our route took us through this little hamlet and I'd spotted the garage with the sweet pickup out front, I knew it was time to call it a day.

I can tell Sam is nervous about stopping, but I haven't had a good rest in three days, and I'm determined to sleep in a real bed tonight—demons be damned.

Now that we've settled in, I figure we might as well get some supplies and some things for Sam.

Sure, it's not my habit to shell out cash for a guy I just met, but Sam is different. He needs me, and I want to help.

This town is small—barely a few streets—but it has a thrift shop, and after making sure it's demon-free, we go in and manage to find Sam a few decent outfits. The rest of what we need I get from a drugstore nearby.

As we're walking back to the motel, shopping bags in hand, my eyes are drawn to a little street-corner pub, and I propose a detour. Sam ensures it's possession-free, and then I treat myself to curly fries, a cheeseburger, and a rich, dark stout.

Not exactly heart-healthy, but no one lives forever, right?

Sam orders a grilled-cheese and a cola, and we pick a small table near the back, away from the window.

When the server brings our food, I eye him with suspicion—he's not the same as the one who took our order—but Sam shakes his head in reassurance. Not a demon this time. Just a waiter.

"Here you go, handsome," he says, setting my plate down with a wink. "Enjoy."

"Oh. Uh, thanks," I say, looking up in surprise.

He flashes me a bright smile, and I'm almost certain Sam's eyes flash red a second later, but it might be a trick of the light.

"Name's Carlos," the waiter says. "My pleasure to serve you this evening. If you need anything, just...give me a call." He winks again and saunters away, and I find myself checking him out. He's looks to be in his late-twenties, has long dark hair in a pony-tail, a medium-complexion, and a nice face.

"Is that your type?" Sam asks, and I look over to find him watching me with an unhappy turn to his mouth.

"No, er. Not really," I say. "I was just surprised. People don't usually peg me for gay at first sight."

Sam rolls his eyes. "I don't think he did. He just took a chance because you're hot."

"I am?"

"Well...yeah."

He blushes, a light pink flush spreading across his cheeks. It's adorable, and I clear my throat and take a drink of beer to hide my smile.

Unlike at breakfast, the service here is almost too good, and after the fourth time Carlos stops by to check on us, Sam tells him "we're fine" with a tone that clearly translates as "fuck off," and he leaves us alone until we've finished our meal.