The living room of Riley and Sam’s tiny apartment was a chaotic masterpiece of mismatched furniture and lived-in clutter. A sagging, plaid couch sat as the centerpiece, its faded fabric barely holding together under years of wear. A chipped coffee table was buried under a graveyard of empty soda cans and crumpled snack wrappers, while a crooked lamp in the corner cast a dim, yellowish glow over the scene. The air smelled faintly of motor oil and lavender—Sam’s lingering presence clashing with Riley’s softer touch.
Curled up on the couch, Riley was a pastel-colored bundle of misery. His oversized lilac sweater swallowed his delicate frame, and his tight jeans hugged his slender legs as he buried his face into a throw pillow, muffling the soft, hiccupping sobs that shook his shoulders. At 19, Riley was all soft edges and vulnerability, a femboy with a penchant for pretty things and an unfortunate knack for attracting trouble. His pale fingers clutched the pillow tighter as another wave of humiliation washed over him, the cruel words from earlier echoing in his mind.
The front door slammed open with a force that rattled the walls, announcing Sam’s arrival before she even stepped into the room. At 25, Sam was a storm in human form—a no-nonsense tomboy with a cropped, jet-black haircut and a leather jacket that had seen better days. Her heavy boots, still smeared with grease from her long shift at the garage, thudded against the hardwood floor as she strode in, wiping her hands on a rag that looked as worn as she did. Her sharp hazel eyes scanned the room, landing on Riley’s trembling form almost instantly.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, kid,” Sam groaned, tossing the rag onto the coffee table with a flick of her wrist. “What’s got you bawling into my good pillow this time? Spill it before I start charging you for emotional laundry.”
Riley sniffled, lifting his head just enough to peek at her with red-rimmed eyes. His voice came out small, barely above a whisper. “I’m not bawling. I’m just… upset.”
“Upset, my ass. You’re soaking that thing like it’s a sponge at a car wash.” Sam dropped onto the couch beside him with a heavy sigh, the cushions sinking under her weight. She kicked her boots up onto the coffee table, sending a few empty cans clattering to the floor, and turned to face him. “Come on, princess. Out with it. I’ve had a long day of wrestling engines, and I ain’t got the patience for guessing games.”
Riley hesitated, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweater. His cheeks flushed a soft pink, a mix of embarrassment and lingering hurt. “It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh.”
“Try me,” Sam shot back, arching a brow. Her tone was sharp, but there was a glint of curiosity in her eyes as she leaned closer, her arm resting on the back of the couch. “I’ve heard plenty of stupid in my time, and I’m still here, aren’t I?”
He let out a shaky breath, finally sitting up a little straighter, though he kept the pillow hugged to his chest like a shield. “I was at the café down the street, just trying to get some sketching done, and… these women came up to me. They started saying stuff. Mean stuff. Called me a ‘little boy playing dress-up.’ Said I looked ridiculous and that I should ‘man up’ or whatever.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he ducked his head again, mortified.
Sam’s jaw tightened, her fingers drumming against the couch as a flicker of anger passed through her gaze. But she kept her tone light, almost mocking, as she tilted her head to study him. “And what, you just sat there and took it? Let a bunch of bored housewives chew you up and spit you out? Damn, Riley, I thought I taught you better than that.”
“I didn’t know what to say!” he protested, his voice rising in a defensive whine. “There were, like, three of them, and they were so loud, and everyone was staring. I just… I froze.”
Sam snorted, shaking her head as she reached over to ruffle his already-messy blond hair. “You’re such a crybaby, you know that? I swear, if I wasn’t around to save your cute little ass, you’d be roadkill by now.”
Riley pouted, swatting her hand away half-heartedly. “I’m not a crybaby. And I don’t need saving. I just… I didn’t expect it, okay? It hurt.”
Her expression softened—just a fraction, barely noticeable if you didn’t know her well. She let out another sigh, this one less exasperated and more resigned, and slid closer until her thigh pressed against his. “Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist. I get it. People are dicks. Especially to pretty boys like you who don’t fit their boring little boxes.” She hooked an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a rough, unceremonious embrace. Her calloused hands rubbed at his back, the gesture clumsy but genuine. “Still, you gotta toughen up, kid. Can’t have you falling apart every time some bitch looks at you funny.”
Riley leaned into her touch, his body relaxing slightly despite the lingering sting of the day. Her leather jacket smelled like oil and faint tobacco, a grounding contrast to the floral scent of his own sweater. “I’m trying,” he mumbled into her shoulder. “It’s just hard sometimes.”
“Yeah, well, lucky for you, I’m harder.” Sam’s lips quirked into a smirk as she pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her eyes glinting with mischief. “And I’m gonna make damn sure those bitches regret opening their mouths. Next time I’m with you, I’ll march right over there and give ‘em a piece of my mind. Maybe a piece of my wrench, too, if they’re real lucky.”
Riley blinked up at her, a tiny, hesitant smile tugging at his lips. “You’d really do that?”
“Fuck yeah, I would. Nobody messes with my boy and walks away unscathed.” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a low, teasing growl. “And after I’m done with them, I’m coming back to toughen you up, too. Gotta make sure you can handle a little heat, don’t I?”
His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of pink, and he fidgeted under her intense stare, suddenly hyper-aware of how close she was. “W-what do you mean by that?” he stammered, though the spark of curiosity in his blue eyes betrayed his nervousness.
Sam chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent a shiver down his spine. She reached out, tipping his chin up with a grease-streaked finger, forcing him to hold her gaze. “Oh, don’t play coy with me, princess. You know exactly what I mean. I’m gonna teach you how to stand your ground—starting with how to take a little rough handling from yours truly.” Her thumb brushed against his jaw, a deliberate, lingering touch that made his breath hitch. “Think you can keep up, or are you gonna cry on me again?”
Riley swallowed hard, his heart racing as he tried to muster a response. “I… I can keep up. I think.”
“You think?” Sam’s smirk widened, and she leaned in until her lips were just inches from his, her breath warm against his skin. “Better be sure, pretty boy. ‘Cause once I start, I don’t play nice. And I don’t stop ‘til I’m satisfied.”
His eyes widened, a mix of nerves and anticipation flickering across his face as he nodded, almost imperceptibly. “I’m sure,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but laced with a quiet determination.
“Good boy.” Sam’s tone was pure command as she pulled back, though her hand lingered on his chin for a moment longer before dropping away. She stood, stretching her arms above her head with a casual air, as if she hadn’t just set his entire world on fire with a few well-placed words. “Now, clean yourself up. I’m grabbing a beer, and then we’re figuring out how to make sure you don’t turn into a puddle every time someone looks at you wrong. Deal?”
Riley nodded again, a little more confidently this time, as he wiped the last of the tears from his cheeks. “Deal.”
As Sam sauntered toward the kitchen, her boots thudding with every step, Riley couldn’t help but watch her go, a strange mix of comfort and nervous excitement settling in his chest. She was a force of nature—rough, unapologetic, and fiercely protective—and he knew, without a doubt, that she’d always have his back. Even if her methods were… unconventional. Especially then.
The night was still young, and with Sam in charge, Riley had a feeling things were about to get a whole lot more interesting.
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