#fae!sam

[indigostreaking]

Fae Sam

[pre-series-samwinchester]

Changing of Seasons(closed to @rocksaltwhiskeyandbulletholes)

“C’mon De! We’re going to be late for the Ceremony!” a soft voice tittered and a young boy with bright hazel eyes and a crown perched on his head tugged at the older boy’s hand impatiently. As one of the crowned Princes of the Summer Court, Sammy knew that it was rude to arrive late to any social gatherings, something he always argued with his big brother Dean.

The smaller faerie let out a huff and plopped on his bed, an elaborate Lily of the Valley, and crossed his arms with a pout. “C’mon Deeee. I want to be there when the nectar is served fresh!”

[marvelingjules]

This takes place a handful of months - idk, don’t ask me precisely, maybe five? Maybe seven? - after this. (Also, someone remind me next weekend to update the B&F page, yikes.)

All because @bloody-bee-tea reblogged this art of Steve/Sam, and because I for some reason cannot fucking focus on academic writing that doesn’t sound repetitive and stilted. So maybe writing B&F fic will help? Somehow?

----

Sam muffled a yawn in his shoulder as he stretched up to grab a mug from cupboard. The coffeepot was making the final gurgle noises, almost ready. He rubbed his foot over his ankle, moved to the fridge to pull out milk, and grabbed a spoon on his way back to the coffee machine.

He took a long drink once his cup was made, sighing contently after.

Sunshine warm arms wrapped around him from behind.

Chuckling slightly, Sam shifted, and Steve adjusted his grip so that he had one arm slung over Sam’s shoulders, turning so his nose brushed Sam’s temple.

“Good morning,” Sam said, amused, and glanced down, brow raised. “I see you decided it was too much effort to get dressed.”

“Fuck pants,” Steve mumbled.

Sam snorted, grin breaking over his face. “You’re ridiculous,” he said, absolutely unabashedly fond.

Steve smiled, eyes closed, leaning against Sam. “Come back to bed.”

“Not without my coffee.”

Steve made a grumpy noise - peeled open an eye to give the coffee a baleful look. “Fine. It can come too.”

Sam laughed the entire time Steve tugged him down the hall back to the bedroom.

Also, his coffee ended up going cold.

[marvelingjules]

Does Sam ever talk with anyone about the team not coming to rescue him in B and F?

…I… heh. Spoilers?

He hasn’t yet. Not really. He’s mentioned it, here or there, briefly. Tony’s probably offered to listen, if Sam ever does wish to talk about it, and maybe Sam’s mentioned a thing or two, but he’s not really TALKED about it.

(Sam probably knows he needs to, but Sam’s also human - in a sense lol - and talking about the things that genuinely hurt us isn’t something I think is ever easy.)

He will, though. Trust me. It’s something I’m going to get to, it has to happen, because he’s still holding a LOT of it inwards and that’s never good, you know?

(I can almost feel the glare @bloody-bee-tea is giving me for this, honestly. lol)

[nikistillbelieveinheroes]

Steve/Sam edit from this verse of @marvelingjules ,i’m sorry i couldn’t resist i had to do it

@bloody-bee-tea​ 

Sources: x, x, x ,x, x

[marvelingjules]

The last Steve and Sam B&F drabble was this one. This takes place nearly a year after that.

----

Sam found he enjoyed bartending. He enjoyed listening to stories from regulars and strangers, enjoyed mixing drinks, enjoyed the atmosphere of the place he worked and the kind of people it attracted.

Sometimes he helped the Avengers. When they needed him, when it was important. He still talked with them - even Steve, when they were in the same room, casual small talk. And of course, Tony and the pups were often visiting.

It’d been a quiet few weeks. Tony, the pups, and Bucky were visiting Trip’s pack, which left Sam’s apartment emptier than usual. He wasn’t exactly enjoying that, but it wasn’t unpleasant either, necessarily. It was the middle of the week, during a late afternoon shift, that his quiet few weeks changed.

It didn’t take him more than a few seconds to recognize the man who came in; despite the beard and the darker hair, there was no mistaking that unique taste of power.

He limped over and sat at the bar, head down, baseball hat low over his eyes.

Sam set aside the glasses he’d been putting away and went to pop open a beer. Setting it down he said, “Let me guess - everyone you know is trying to kill you again?”

“That was Nat’s line,” Steve mumbled, rough-voiced, like he hadn’t talked a lot lately. He took a sip of the beer, then added, “And not everyone. Just some bad guys.”

“So the usual, then.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a soft huff. “The usual.”

~*~*~

Steve seemed indescribably out of place in Sam’s little apartment. Somehow too big and too quiet for the space, all at once. Still, Steve murmured his thanks, settled on Sam’s couch with a blanket pulled tight around his shoulders, and almost immediately fell asleep.

For Sam, sleep was more elusive.

~*~*~

If Steve simply being in his apartment had been strange, waking up to Steve freshly showered (still with a beard) and making breakfast in Sam’s kitchen was surreal.

Steve shot him a slightly uncertain grin, gesturing at the food on the stove, saying, “Bacon.”

Sam blinked. “Cool.”

Neither of them spoke - even after all this time, there was so fucking much said and unsaid and Sam didn’t think either of them knew how to go forward from it. But they moved around each other in the small kitchen just as easily as ever.

~*~*~

Things didn’t stay that calm, that quiet. Someone tried to break into Sam’s apartment, but Sam had spent long enough there that the place wasn’t defenseless.

Still, it wasn’t as strong as what he used to do. The two of them bolted for somewhere safer, one of many boltholes the team had gathered around the city.

For five days they were either constantly moving, fighting, running, or hiding and quiet and still. In the moments of movement, it was like all that had gone wrong between them had never happened. But whenever they stopped for more than a breath, it reared up, the damned pink elephant in the room.

When finally, the bad guys had been thwarted and they were back at the Tower, bruised and sore and exhausted, but mostly unharmed, Sam decided something had to be done.

“Sometimes I wish we could start over, completely.”

Steve glanced over at him, head resting on the back of the couch, bruise on his cheek already a lurid green-yellow color.

Sam did not look back at Steve.

After a few more moments of silence, Steve finally spoke. “I don’t.” He sighed. “For a while, I thought... that might be best, too. But... there were good times, you know? And I wouldn’t want to lose those.”

“We could make new ones,” Sam pointed out, finally looking over at Steve.

Steve stared him straight in the eye, serious as anything. “We can do that without starting over.”

“I don’t know, man,” Sam murmured. “Doesn’t seem to be the case.”

Swallowing, Steve shifted, drawing one leg onto the couch to face Sam. Without thinking, Sam copied him, and realized both of them were leaning closer.

“Maybe we weren’t trying hard enough. Either of us. And I’m not... I’m not saying it’ll be easy,” Steve admitted. “But I think it could be worth it.”

Sam stared at him, searching his face, considering. Steve’s blue eyes were earnest and hopeful and utterly unchanged from the last time Sam had gotten to look into them this close, for this long. Fucking gorgeous, they were.

He’d never stopped loving Steve, even if he’d let that love fade into the back of his thoughts, there but mostly unacknowledged. He’d long ago given up hope that the same was true for Steve but... maybe....

“If it’s what you actually want...”

“Yes. But only if you do, too,” Steve added quickly.

“Okay,” Sam sighed, and the moment should have felt huge or like a weight lifting, Sam thought, but it felt the same as all the others.

Steve grinned, wide and relieved and happy. Sam hadn’t seen that smile turned on him in a long time, and it felt like the first warm touch of sunlight after a long fucking winter.

“Friday? Seven?”

“Eight. I get off work at seven,” Sam said.

“Sounds good,” Steve said, a little breathless. “I can’t wait.”

[marvelingjules]

Listen, this is basically @bloody-bee-tea‘s fault. She encourages this kind of thing, don’t let her convince you otherwise. ;)

----

Thor had returned a week ago.

Steve was almost always around him.

Sam knew they’d had a casual thing, before, whenever Thor and Jane weren’t together. It didn’t take a genius to figure out they’d picked that back up now that....

Steve laughed, loud and happier than Sam had heard in a long time, and Thor threw an arm over Steve’s shoulders, grinning. Even if they were still just casual, they had more of a relationship than Sam and Steve did anymore.

Steve trusted Thor. Sam didn’t think Steve would ever trust him again.

It hurt watching them hang out together, easily, joking and laughing and working out and ragging each other. It hurt more to see how Steve was when Thor wasn’t around. Less laughing, less talking to the others, avoiding looking at Sam at all.

It felt like what tiny bit of progress they’d made - strained civility - had vanished.

And Sam... well. He began to think that it’d be better for everyone if he just wasn’t there.

~*~*~

“What?” Tony said, tilting his head, like he’d misheard Sam. “You want to-”

“Move out of the Tower,” Sam said.

Frowning, Tony asked, “Did something happen?”

Sam shook his head. “No. I just - I figure it’d be better for... everyone... if they had some space. From me.”

“You mean for Steve,” Tony said. Scowling, he insisted, “You’re Pack just as much as-”

“I’m moving, okay? Just let me - let me give him space. I owe him space, Tony, and if he needs it to feel better, then-”

“Okay, okay,” Tony said, raising his hands. “If you want to move out, fine. Can’t stop you. But you’re not disappearing into the ether on us.” He pinned Sam with a nearly fierce look. “I’m not letting you do that to the pups.”

Sam looked away and nodded. “Course,” he said quietly.

~*~*~

Sam’s apartment was small.

He liked it. It wasn’t soaked in his energy as his floor in the Tower was, but he didn’t think it’d take long for the place to feel safe and his. It had enough windows that the space felt open, let the sunshine inside to warm the floors and walls.

Most of the time it was quiet.

Even when Tony or one of the pups was visiting, it was still... calm. Not loud or chaotic, but... relaxed. Alex would catch the subway after school to visit, sitting on the floor to do his homework. Marissa and Seb visited a few times, Hope and Bryce a handful between them.

Tony came by it seemed more often than not in a week. At first, when Sam moved in, Tony was there almost every day. Helping unpack, or setting up some discreet security, or making sure Sam wasn’t “moping.”

After several weeks, it was closer to every second or third day. Tony would walk in without even waiting for Sam to answer the door, always heading for the kitchen first to drop off leftovers from a team dinner the other night, or baked goods from Sam’s favorite bakery he’d picked up, or some other thing.

Most of their time was spent at the scratched kitchen table, small and round and in the best patch of sunlight for mid-morning coffee.

Sam hadn’t been confused at first; his apartment wasn’t big or fancy or anything Tony would be used to, but he came all the time. It couldn’t just be for any ‘wolf and pack reasons, Sam wouldn’t have thought.

Eventually, he decided to roll with it; Tony had always been oddly unconcerned with things, and more interested in people.

Besides... it was nice, to just hang out as friends.

~*~*~

Steve was watching Bryce, Marissa, and Seb while Tony and Bucky were in a meeting and on a mission respectively. Hope and Alex had had a school field trip, and weren’t due back until sometime that evening.

“I miss Uncle Sam,” Seb mumbled, walking up and crawling into Steve’s lap.

“I’m sure you can go to his floor later tonight,” Steve offered.

Seb frowned at him. “It’s old-smell there, though, Uncle Steve. And I want Uncle Sam to play with me.”

“I... old-smell?” Steve asked, frowning back at the kid.

Bryce was watching them, and when Steve looked up, made an odd face and looked away.

“Marissa?” Steve tried.

She frowned at him, confused. “You know, old-smell... like, it’s faded and not fresh?”

“Why would Sam’s floor smell like... that?”

The two older kids didn’t answer, and Seb just looked confused Steve was even asking. Finally, Bryce sighed and mumbled, “Sam doesn’t live here anymore.”

“What?” Steve demanded.

Shrugging, Bryce said, “He moved. Couple months ago.” He glanced up at Steve, something hard in his eyes. “Alex said you didn’t care.”

“No, I - I didn’t know,” Steve said, almost babbled, eyes wide.

Bryce just stared at him, shrugged, and turned back to his homework.

~*~*~

“Tony, where did Sam go?” Steve asked as soon as Tony picked up the pups.

Tony raised a brow at him. “You just noticed?” Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, he picked up Seb and nuzzled his cheek briefly.

“I - I haven’t seen - I was trying to...”

“Avoid him. Yeah, everyone noticed, Steve. Including Sam.”

Steve winced. He wanted to defend himself - defend his need for space and for not having to make himself deal with all the complicated feelings and thoughts being around Sam inspired. But he doubted Tony would listen.

“I - where did he go, though?”

“He left. That’s all I’m saying to you about it.”

Steve sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair and following Tony and the kids down the hall. “Just... tell me he’s okay? That he’s safe?”

Tony paused in the doorway, having ushered out Bryce and Marissa ahead of him. Seb was resting his head on Tony’s shoulder, blinking sleepily.

“He has a phone, Steve, if he wanted you to know anything.”

Steve swallowed. “Tony-”

Stroking a hand through Seb’s hair - leaving his hand cupped over Seb’s ears and dropping his voice to a very soft whisper, Tony said, “I tried to wait for you guys to work things out. It didn’t happen, and all I saw was Sam struggling with everything. I’m done waiting, and mediating. If you want to know, you’re going to have to damn well ask yourself.”

Tony didn’t slam the door on his way out, but he might as well have.

~*~*~

Sam glanced over to the other end of the couch, Tony sprawled out with a tablet in his lap, working on something while they watched the game.

“Hey,” Sam said, waiting until Tony looked up at him. “Thanks.” He tilted over his beer bottle.

Smiling slightly, Tony tilted his own soda bottle over and tapped the necks together. They both drank, and Sam relaxed further back in his couch, letting out a deep sigh.

This was good. The apartment felt like his, but also had the feel of that strange ‘wolf pack magic or energy at the edges. He had a job interview next week at a nearby bar, and plans for the weekend to help Hope with a school report.

He felt... steadier than he had in a long time, like he could breathe again.

This was good.

[marvelingjules]

Okay, I promised @bloody-bee-tea and a few others of you that these two idiots would finally talk so here you go. (Link to the previous drabble.)

----

“We need to talk.”

Steve was startled, though he hid it pretty well. For a long moment, he considered Sam across the gym, eyes guarded. He carefully set the weight back down and sat up, straddling the bench.

“Don’t see what there is to talk about,” he said.

Sam swallowed. “You didn’t get to just watch one of the pups freak out because he thinks the pack is going to fall apart.”

Steve winced. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Alex okay?”

“Tony’s got him,” Sam replied. He took a deep breath. “But that’s why we gotta talk, man. What’s up between us is hurting them. Sounds like they can feel discord in the pack or something.”

Steve shook his head, muttering under his breath, hands on his hips.

“Look, I’ve tried giving you space,” Sam said. “I’ve not pushed, and-”

“What, like you’re the victim in this-”

“Damn it, Steve, I’ve been waiting to apologize!”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Apologize. Like it’ll be that simple.”

Sam closed his eyes, took deep breaths, ignored the twinges of pain in his back and the hot-earth smell of Steve’s anger in the air.

“No, I know it won’t be. But why can’t it be a start?”

“You used me, my feelings for you-”

“You’re acting like I was the one to kiss you first!” Sam snapped. “Like I planned out some damn seduction and-”

“Didn’t you?”

“No, I fucking didn’t, Steve.”

“Yeah, well you sure took advantage of my kissin’ you,” Steve said back, old accent slipping into his words. “How long didja even wait before concocting how in love with you I had to be before you tried luring me into Faery?”

Sam laughed, scoffed really, and shook his head. “Right, because that’d be the easiest path to take. Sure.”

“You said that you-”

“That I had thought of it.” Sam rolled his eyes. “Fuck, you’re so bad at not-lying, you know that, Steve? I thought of how I could get you into Faery if you fell in love with me. I also thought about how I could probably get you drunk on Faery wine, or how it wouldn’t be hard to dare you to race down a path and stumble into Faery, leave you there and report to-” He choked on the words, had to swallow several times.

“Thought of a lot of fucking ways to get you into Faery.”

“I think I’m missing whatever point you’re trying to make here.” Steve’s voice was tight, guarded.

Sam slumped against the wall and closed his eyes. “i thought of all those plans... and then of all the ways they wouldn’t work. Told myself, hey, he’s a tactical genius, so you need to have a sound plan with not even the smallest room for mistakes. Never found one, and so I couldn’t ever get you into Faery.

“And my orders had been very specific. Find the human will stolen Fae-blood, bring him to Feary for.... So I never had to tell her I found you. Or where you were. How to get to you. Hell, you think I was happy to actually find you?” He shook his head.

“What?”

Sam opened his eyes, stared at the ceiling. “Where I was, there was no one ordering me around, Steve. My fuckin’ logic that let me get away with not actively looking was that there’s a fucking insane number of humans all over this place, and it’d be smarter to stay in one spot, where maybe you’d end up wandering by. It wasn’t supposed to fucking work.”

“You’re telling me that you never wanted to do what you were told?”

“At first, sure I did. Later... freedom’s a heady thing.”

Steve considered Sam, slumped against the wall, arms wrapped slightly around himself. He wasn’t sure if it was just that the sweatshirt was so big, or if Sam really had lost that much weight. He seemed smaller.

More fragile.

“You were gone for two years.”

“Seventeen weeks,” Sam croaked. “I waited there for seventeen weeks.”

The silence after that was heavy, and awful, and Steve felt his blood start rushing, even as the bottom of his stomach dropped. “Waited?”

Sam didn’t answer.

“Sam...”

“If you’re waiting for me to do it again, I won’t. Doesn’t matter, cause I’ve been banished out of Faery. If I go back...” He swallowed, throat tight. “I can’t chance going back.”

Steve didn’t realized he’d stepped forward, not until Sam actually shied back from him, into the doorway.

“You have every right to be pissed, Steve. To not trust me. But I’m fuckin’ sorry for not telling you. I should have at least told you what I was, and....”

Steve struggled for words, for some handle on what he was feeling. He was still mad, but it was muted, and he felt guilty and worried and-

“Did you love me back?”

Sam looked at him, slow and expression oddly... dead, empty, like someone that had been broken too much and given up on feeling anything again, for fear of worse pain.

“I’m Fae, Steve. I can’t lie.”

“I need you to tell me that you loved me back, really... really loved me.”

“I loved you then,” Sam replied, voice almost monotonous. “Not one thing about how I felt for you was a trick, lie, or twist of the truth. I loved you back.”

Steve let out a shaky breath, swallowed. “Do you still love me?”

Sam stared at him, then asked, “Do you?”

Steve had no answer for that, expression pinching and mouth working soundlessly. This was so much more complicated than that, it wasn’t that simple, how come everyone kept acting like it was so easy? Sam had lied to him, and yeah, maybe he’d not planned on acting on any of the ways he’d played Steve, but... but it wasn’t that easy.

It wasn’t.

Steve tried to tell himself that as Sam walked away, and the heavy feeling in his chest left him feeling like he’d made a mistake.