“You know, I had planned on giving you the seeing to of your life tonight, but I don’t think I can perform with an audience.” He nodded to the door that stood ajar. To his immense relief, Tristan smiled. It looked like he tried very hard not to, but it crept out.
“Let’s not fight,” Sam whispered. “I couldn’t bear to fight with you again.”
Tristan came and stood before him and put one hand on his chest. “I am not going to fight you. Let the boys get a little sleep and then we will make a move.”
Sam put a hand over Tristan’s and then pulled it to his lips and kissed it, then they were in each other’s arms, holding tight. Sam buried his nose in Tristan’s neck inhaling the very essence of him, remembering him.
He felt Tristan swallow, and then he pulled away, turning his head to one side as if to hide his eyes. Sam let his hand linger on his shoulder until he moved away.