Waiting for a Prince by K. C. Wells

a shock was
    something of an understatement. He tilted his head. “A bed partner who seems remarkably calm
    about being in bed with a gay guy.” That last thought gave him pause. “Anything you want to
    tell me, Sam?” He kept the tone light, but in his head there was a list of questions which was growing longer by the minute.
    Sam paled. “Oh fuck…” he said weakly. His gzae dropped to the sheet which covered
    him. Mark pulled back his hand and threw off the sheet. He got out of bed and picked up his
    robe from where he’d dropped it earlier and pulled it on. He stood at the foot of the bed and
    gazed at Sam.
    “I think you and I need to talk, because right now, I’m confused. I’m going to make
    some coffee.” He turned and exited the room. Inside his head was a mass of tumbling,
    convoluted thoughts. He thought back to the hurt he’d felt when Sam had accused him of
    manipulating the situation. Sam had been the epitome of the indignant straight guy. But a
    straight guy doesn’t climb into bed with his gay friend, does he? And judging by Sam’s reaction just now, there was more to this than not wanting to be alone. He switched on the kettle and
    dumped coffee into two mugs, his thoughts never straying far from the man in his bed. The one
    thing that refused to leave him was the thought that Sam had looked damn good in it.
    From behind him, he heard movement. He looked over his shoulder to see Sam pulling
    on his jeans, his face flushed. Mark turned back to his task. When he picked up the two mugs
    and went toward the sofa. Sam sat on the edge of the seat cushion, his torso and feet bare,
    elbows resting on his knees, head in hands. Mark set the mug down in front of him and then sat
    at the opposite end of the sofa. A little distance was required right now.
    Mark sipped his coffee, wincing as the hot liquid burnt his lip. The silence spun out
    between them until it was almost tangible. Sam wouldn’t look at him. Finally, Mark couldn’t
    stand it any longer.
    “All right, talk to me. That’s what you came here for, after all, wasn’t it?”
    Sam looked at him warily. Mark kept his face neutral.
    “I’m sorry about what I said last night,” Sam said at last. “I had no right to say those
    things. I knew as soon as I said them that you wouldn’t do something so… so…”
    “Underhanded? Mean? Sneaky?” Mark suggested. Sam nodded unhappily. Mark pushed
    out a long stream of air. “Then why did you leave like that?”
    53
    Sam hung his head. “Because if I’d stayed, I might have told you the truth,” he
    whispered.
    Mark stilled. “The truth? So that implies what, that you’ve been lying to me?” Sam kept
    silent. Mark put down his mug and moved closer, until he was sitting so close to Sam that he
    could feel the heat pouring off him. “Come on, Sam, you’ve gotten this far. Don’t stop now.”
    His heart pounding, Mark stretched out a hand and cupped Sam’s chin, tilting his head upward.
    Sam’s lovely blue eyes had a tortured expression in them. “It’s okay,” Mark whispered.
    Sam blinked, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed several times. He straightened
    and looked Mark in the eye. “I’m gay, Mark.”
    Mark froze, staring at him in confusion. “What?” The words wouldn’t register in his
    brain. “I don’t understand.”
    Sam stared at him miserably. “I’m gay.”
    “Since when?” Mark demanded. A thought suddenly hammered in his brain. “Oh, God,
    you’re not gonna tell me that I have anything to do with this, are you?”
    Sam’s eyes widened. “Oh, God, no! I’ve known I was gay since I was in high school.”
    Mark’s mouth fell open. “You what?”
    “Remember me telling you that Mr. Edwards was the one who caught me on the
    computer, watching porn?” Mark nodded. “Well, what he didn’t tell anyone was that it was gay
    porn.”
    Mark was dumbfounded. “Really?”
    “Yeah,” Sam admitted quietly. “He said he had to inform the Head, but that