Love is Always Write Anthology Volume 6

went sideways. All you could do was hang on for the ride and try not to crap your pants. Keep holding on, being yourself, and not let it take your pride away. Not let it change you.
    Everything he said to Brandon was true. The man was special, and he deserved way more than what he'd been given. Now, Sam was adding to his distress. He was such an oaf!
    Cautiously, as if approaching a spooked horse, he walked up to the little human and sat down on the couch. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to frighten you."
    As Samael reached his hand over, Brandon jumped before he had even touched him. "You have no need to fear me. I would never harm you," he said softly. "I know you don't know me, but I am loyal to those that deserve it. You have earned that and more by assisting me, when you could have left me to rot."
    Brandon searched his features for long moments, saying nothing, before finally taking a deep breath and relaxing a little. This time when he touched the man's forearm, there was no flinch. "I want only to help you, as you did me. I don't have much to give– no money, nor belongings, but I do have my body, and I will protect you and assist as much as I can."
    Bran's hair was in his eyes again, hiding him a little, even as he nodded his acceptance. "Okay, thanks," he said with a shy smile, and Samael's chest felt lighter.
    "What was your plan?"
    "Oh, ummm… I don't know." Brandon's voice was small and he looked at the floor. "I have twenty-four hours to come up with the money, or…" He swallowed hard.
    "Or what?" Samael knew, his gut told him that it was bad, but he wanted the words.
    "Or… I die."
    Sam took in a gulping breath. Yeah, that's what he had thought, but to hear it aloud had done something in him unexpected. His heart sped up, and he felt sick. A world without Brandon in it felt wrong somehow.
    "No. I will not let you die." The words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was going to say, but they were exactly right. He would not allow anything to happen to this extraordinary man, who was so full of life and heart. Brandon was different, unique; and Samael didn't know why, but he was drawn to him, like a moth to the flame. He just hoped he didn't become engulfed and turned to ash in the process.
    "How are you going to stop it? These guys are no joke."
    Samael grinned wickedly. "Nor am I. Tomorrow, we shall go and visit this man you were dating, and see if we cannot talk some sense into him." His smile faded, as he became uncomfortable. "I will need some clothes, and a few supplies. Could you… I mean, would you mind…" He couldn't continue. He'd never asked for necessities before in his long life, and now he was beholden to this human. It was a very humbling experience, to say the least.
    "Yeah, sure. I can take care of that for you— get you a few things. If you are going to help me, I will owe you huge. So, no problem." Brandon had hope in his eyes, and that combined with his kindness, caused Samael's throat to swell.
    "Right." He smacked his hands on his thighs and stood. "Well, let us get some sleep, so that we will have our strength for tomorrow."
    "Oh… umm… yeah." Brandon looked down, flipped his hair into his face, and got up. "Why don't you take my bed, in there?" He pointed at the door next to the bathroom. "I'll take the couch; cause there is no way you're gonna fit on this thing." The man was grinning and that sparkle was back. Samael inspected the small piece of furniture he'd been sitting on. No. Bent in half, he still would not be able to lay on it.
    He glanced back at his rescuer. "Thank you. For everything."
    Brandon blushed and his ears turned almost purple. And there was that hair flick again, hiding the man from his gaze. So endearing. "You're welcome."
    Samael moved to his assigned room, and opened the door. It was well lived in. The bed rumpled, a pair of black jeans and matching shirt thrown over the footboard, random things spewed across the dresser top. There were a few posters on the walls. An alarm clock and empty glass on one of the bedside tables, along with a bottle of some clear fluid that he did not recognize. Brandon came in behind him, flushing; he snatched the bottle, and pushed it into a drawer as quickly as possible.
    "Sorry. It's a little messy in here." The man was looking everywhere, but at him.
    Hmmm. Wonder what that is about? "It's fine."
    "Okay, lemme just grab a pillow and sheet, and I'll be out of your way." Brandon, loaded the items into his arms