Mail: "Why you gotta be so rude?" "Life couldn't get much sweeter." "Let me kiss you in the pouring rain." / then for Maddie/Leon: "I'm not a saint." "I don't wanna be without you." / and then Sidney/Sawyer: "I wish I was in love but I don't wanna cause any pain." "I never meant to hurt you." "I hate that I made you think that the trust we had is broken." "Lately I've been waking up alone."
Mail: “Why you gotta be so rude?”
First, you should know that immediately when I read that I started singing and everyone stared, so really who is the rude one here? But then they gave me a round of applause and some even untwisted their knickers to join in so I suppose thanks are in order (I might be making that up, so don’t actually expect a thank you card to accompany this letter). Second, I won’t apologize, but I didn’t mean for it to come off rude. I guess that’s the problem with writing, sometimes you can’t tell how the writer intended for it to be read. But well, if you don’t think you can do it then I’m not going to force you. Like you said in the beginning, this is for fun, something to decrease our boredom, so there’s no pressure. And this isn’t one of those times where I say no pressure and there really is a ton of pressure, so please, don’t think that. In other news, do you realize how hard it is to approach people in the city of Wilmington? People are so rude.
Maii: “Life couldn’t get much sweeter.”
The moon reflected offthe gentle motion of the river, dancing to an unknown beat only it could heardespite the array of music winding up and down the streets; it stood alone. ButMaison didn’t notice any of it. The moon, the music, the little lights coveringthe trees in tiny homes for fairies, all of it went unnoticed. His eyes neveronce left Melanie. “Is that a pun?” He laughed, nodding towards the waffle coneheld in her hands, defying the notion that ice cream was only meant for thewarm days of the summer even as the chilly air forced a shiver through hisspine. His arm naturally wrapped around the girl’s shoulders, pulling hercloser to him to make sure she was warm enough. “I think it’d have a hard timetrying, me self.”
Mail: “Let me kiss you in the pouring rain.”
Is that a challenge, Mel? Other than the possibilityof catching pneumonia, I don’t think it’s much of one, just so you know.Because I’d let you kiss me anywhere. You don’t even have to ask. But only ifyou return the notion, alright? Let me kiss you in the moonlight. Let me kissyou in front of anyone that might doubt us. Let me kiss you in the ‘employeesonly’ section I convinced you to sneak into. And I’ll gladly let you kiss me inthe pouring rain where we’ll most definitely catch a cold and when we do, I’llmake you soup accompanied with a letter until you feel better and until you getanother crazy idea from the movies you love to watch. Because if it’ll bring asmile to your face, I’ll do whatever you ask.
Maddie/Leon: “I’m not a saint.”
“Now I don’t know much,but I’m pretty sure it’s in an angel’s definition that they are in fact asaint,” Maddie tried to joke, but she knew it would be to no avail as hershoulder collided with the male’s. She let a sigh fall from her lips. Angels.If she heard herself a few months ago she would have turned herself into theloony bin, and now she was sitting beside a fallenone at that? Trying to cheer him up? Wasn’t it generally supposed to be theother way around? But then, even the heroes needed someone, Maddie supposed. “Hey,”she whispered, afraid to break the silence that had fallen over the two. “Hey,”Maddie repeated, a little louder, slipping from her place beside Leon to standin front of him. “Nobody’s a saint…I’m not either, y’know?” She placed a fingerunder his chin, raising his drooping head to look at her. “But that doesn’tchange the fact that despite everything, despite your knowing that you’d loseyour wings, despite knowing you’d lose everything,you saved me. I didn’t even believe—but you…” A small smile tugged at her lipsas she moved closer, wrapping her small frame around the angel. “It doesn’tchange that I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. And I don’t know, thatkind of…sacrifice. Maybe it doesn’t make you a saint, but so what? It makes you…something,”She sighed, placing a small kiss to Leon’s shoulder, her hand tangling into hiscurly hair.
Maddie/Leon: “I don’t wanna be without you.”
Maddie pressed her lipstogether in an attempt to stop their quivering. So don’t. Stay with me. I—I love you…She wanted to beg, doeverything she possibly could to make him stay, but she knew it would be invain. “I don’t think you have a choice…” She whispered, and despite thesoftness in her voice, it still came out stronger than she felt. Her eyeswouldn’t dare to look up from their spot on the ground. She tried to imaginethe spot would keep herself grounded, that when the inevitable happened shewouldn’t feel like she was right back in her mangled Beetle. And she tried notto think it, knew that if Leon could read her thoughts he’d lecture her, but itdidn’t stop her from thinking it. Maybe she should have just died there, alone.And then they wouldn’t be here now. Maybe she would have met him anyways…in hisown world. Where he was meant to always be. He would have proven her wrong justas he did here, but he wouldn’t have had to give it all up. And for what? A measlylittle bakery owner? She hadn’t made a difference in the world. She wasn’t somehero or…anyone. Hardly anyone even visited her small bakery. Only people whohappened upon the store on their way to somewhere bigger. Maddie sniffled,trying to keep what little composure she still had left. “Maybe we’ll see eachother again…eventually.”
Sidney/Sawyer: “I wish I was in love, but I don’t wanna cause any pain.”
“A little late for that,don’t you think?” A wet laugh seemed to echo in Sidney’s throat, causing her tocough in an attempt to stop it all. “Don’t worry, though. I’ll be gone soonenough.” And perhaps that was her own hopeful thinking since her mother hadn’thinted that they would be leaving yet again. In fact, it was the opposite. Hermother had begun to unpack Sidney’s things where the girl had refused,something she never had done before. It seemed as if her mom had hopes thatthey would be staying here for longer than they had originally thought. And ifSidney was honest, that scared her more than having to start anew again. Shewasn’t sure she could keep this up any longer, not with the boy she had trustedthe most turning on her now. “I think you should leave,” Sidney blurted,stopping herself from saying what she truly wanted to…I wish I wasn’t in love…
Sidney/Sawyer: “I never meant to hurt you.”
Sidney was taken back toevery time she had read those words in the books she had let become the onlyconstant in her life. How most of the time when those words were said it led toa heartbreak for only the moment, but eventually the two would come backtogether, maybe some distance in the future, but they would love each other inthe end. But now…now that the words had been said to her, she didn’t believeany of it could be true. Happy endings were just for the books, a way to endthe story before it truly began, before the real heartbreak started. It couldnever truly work out, right? She had her mother as an example of that. Her fatherlong gone from the pictures Sidney kept in a shoebox amongst the things shecouldn’t dare leave behind. She shrugged, letting the tears ruin the makeup shespent so long on despite hating the goopy feeling it caused. “But that’s whatthey all say, isn’t it? And it never changes anything. It doesn’t stop thehurt, you know.”
Sidney/Sawyer: “I hate that I made you think that the trust we had is broken.”
“It was always broken,Sawyer,” Sidney shrugged, folding her legs over one another. The confidence shehad built only slightly quivering at the boy’s words. But really, what did heknow about her? Their entire relationship had been based on lies from thebeginning. The only reason Sidney had approached him in the first place was dueto the camera hanging around his neck. She had pretended to be more interestingthan she truly was when in reality she would go home every day to a smallapartment, where she still refused to unpack, and crawl into her mom’s armswith a book cradled to her chest. It was nothing like what she had madeeveryone in this new school believe. Including the male standing in front ofher now. Sure she had been more truthful to him than anyone else, but she stillhad to keep up the lies that were floating around. Really, how did they expectsomething to last between them…or at least she had. “We lied to each other fromthe beginning,” Sidney thought out loud, cradling her legs in her arms.
Sidney/Sawyer: “Lately I’ve been waking up alone.”
“Is that supposed tomake me feel better?” Sidney begged, fighting the urge to cross the room andfall into the boy’s arms once more. “I’m sorry,” She said, despite a smallfeeling that the words didn’t belong on her tongue. “You shouldn’t be alone…noone deserves to be alone.” She meant it though in the moment she wasn’t surehow, she had felt alone for so long and now more so than ever, but she stillbelieved he deserved someone. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be her, but somedaymaybe he’d find someone who’d change his ways. Someone that would make him stoptoying with hearts. Or maybe he’d find solstice in something else. Either way,despite everything, she wanted him to be happy.
The career path Samuel has decided to follow demands that he’s constantly working on deadlines. That’d be fine, obviously, if he didn’t have two days to go through six rough drafts of books, around a hundred pages each, filled with misspelling and grammar mistakes, a lot of discontinued plots and sentences that made zero sense. And he tries to be understanding, he does, especially because he lives with a writer, so he knows how the writing process can be, but there’s a limit even to his brain.
At the moment, he’s stuck on the fifth draft and it’s fifteen past two am of the second day, meaning he’s not likely to get any sleep tonight, considering how he has to finish this one, the next one and still send out emails to authors and editors and whatnot. That’s Sam’s mistake, clearly, that during a season as busy as this one, he’s still thinking about getting some sort of sleep. He should be used, by now, to the fact that the bags under his eyes are a permanent thing.
He’s working downstairs, by the desk he shoved into the living room, alternating between reading the manuscript and typing furiously at the computer, making notes because unlike Austin, Sam prefers typing rather than writing things down with a pen. It makes his thoughts string together in a much more organized matter, and Sam likes working with cleanness. This particular book has been so flat out terrible to read that the annotations he’s done on the margins – which usually aren’t substantial, since he’d rather sit down with the author and discuss everything instead of putting his thoughts next to their words – cover every inch of the paper that isn’t filled by the person’s atrocious writing.
It’s only when Sam reaches page seventy-three and the main character is trying to save his girlfriend from a five headed monster that he finally lets go of the pen and the computer, letting out a groan and burying his face on his hands. He has half a mind to completely abandon this one, tell his father it’s impossible for anything to be done with this story, and simply go upstairs, wrap himself around Austin and fall asleep. Because that’s what Samuel assumes Aus is doing by now - sleeping, like the younger man had told him he’d try to do, a couple of hours ago.
His boyfriend – and Samuel fights away a smile whenever he thinks of Austin as such, even if it’s been a couple of years since they’d first met – is working on his own book, the second that is going to get published after the one he had with him and they met at the elevator. He’s much further into it than any of the authors Sam is revising, probably only needs a couple of chapters before the draft is sent into revision and the book can start taking up a proper shape. He’s brilliant, also, not only with the way he writes but the content of what he writes, and Sam knows he’d rather be the editor in charge of Austin’s book. There’s a thing called conflict of interest that stops him from being able to do so, but it definitely doesn’t keep Sam from reading whatever Austin is writing before it’s submitted to his editor.
After a considerably long writer’s block that kept both Austin and Sam up for many nights, was the responsible for the downing of more tequila bottles than either of them can count and also caused more than a handful of partially serious fights between the two of them, Austin managed to get the handle back, and it’s been a week since Aus went back to writing without stressing himself out due to frustration of words that never came to him. He’s even getting more sleep than usual, smiles and eats more and is definitely constantly in a much better mood than Samuel can bring himself to be.
“If you’re going to keep napping you should just quit this altogether and go to bed,” a voice interrupts his thoughts and startles Sam slightly. He raises his head to see the younger man walking down the stairs. The longer strands of hair are tied up in a ponytail on top of his head and Austin is wearing the freaking burgundy silk robe he acts like he hates – but loves – over what Sam believes is actually his boxers. He walks towards Sam in a slow pace, seducing without even putting his mind into it. Or maybe it’s the sleep deprivation catching up with Samuel’s brain, making him see whatever he wants to see instead of the actual reality.
(He doubts it, though. Austin has always, amongst many, many other things, a sensual being without having to stress himself about it.”
“Not napping, jus’ tired,” Sam points out, eyes roaming down Austin’s body when the younger man comes to stand next to him. A chuckle slips from his lips when a finger comes to rest under his chin, pushing his head up and forcing Sam to look at Austin’s face instead. “I thought you were asleep.”
Austin snorts, moving so he can climb over Sam’s lap, sitting down sideways, an arm going around Samuel’s shoulders, free hand playing with the older male’s hair. His own arms wrap around Austin’s waist, keeping him up right and preventing him from falling backwards. Sam leans into the touching, nuzzling against Austin’s palm for a moment and dropping a kiss there.
“Please, Samuel, when do I ever go to sleep before three am?” He asks, fingers toying with Sam’s hair.
“When you’re drunk off your ass,” at that remark, Austin rolls his eyes. “When we have sex. When you’re exhausted. You go to sleep early sometimes, it just takes a bit of convincing, most of the time.”
There’s a grunt in reply and Austin simply turns his head, letting his eyes drift away from Sam’s face and rest on the manuscript on the table. He’s picking it up before Samuel can tell him not to, flipping it back to the first page and running his eyes over the words, reading at a much faster pace than Sam can allow himself to, since he has to nitpick the mistakes here and there. Austin’s face is impassive as he reads; not letting out any sort of reaction to the bullshit Sam knows it’s there.
Since Austin seems so interested in reading as much as he can, Sam busies himself with burying his face on the younger man’s neck, pressing kisses to the skin while he brushes a finger on the exposed skin right above the elastic of his boxers. The exhaustion is finally catching up to him, and his eyes slip closed before Samuel can help himself.
They stay there for a while, the subtle rise and fall of Austin’s shoulders as he breathes lulling Sam into an almost asleep state. He’s comfortable and he’s quickly realizing this is somewhat of a constant state he’s been in ever since the two of them met. It’s almost like his entire life only started falling into place the minute Austin walked into it.
“This is shit,” Austin points out, eventually, dropping the stack of papers back on the table and getting Sam to let out a chuckle. “Complete and total shit. If this is the type of thing your father gets you to read then I completely understand why you’re complaining about your job so often.”
A hand comes to rest on Sam’s hair, fingers playing with the short strands and causing Samuel to let out a pleasured moan, tightening his grip around the younger man’s waist.
“But I mean it, Sam, go to bed, you’re exhausted,” Austin’s tone is soft and caring, warm, comforting in a way that almost makes Samuel cry because he is overworked and fatigued, needs to rest for a bit so he can go back to being himself, but there’s still so much to do.
“Can’t,” he draws back, resting his head against the back of the chair, hiding a yawn against his shoulder. “I have to finish this and another one, then I have to send out a few emails and walk our dog, since I know you won’t.”
There’s a smile that Austin fights against at the mention of our, that he expects Sam not to see, but they’ve reached a point now in which Samuel simply knows Austin, knows what to look for when he wants to find out whether the younger man is pleased or not. It’s there – the soft crinkling next to his eyes, the tiny tug at the corners of his lips, the way he lowers his chin a bit as if to hide the satisfaction on his face – and Sam knows how to find it.
“Come on,” Sam says, patting Austin’s bum twice before stretching his arms over his head. “Go to bed, let the grown up finish his job.”
“You know,” Austin starts, climbing out of Sam’s lap far too slowly for his taste. “It’s pretty worrying that you’re constantly referring to yourself as the adult and me as the youngling. Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Samuel?”
Sam laughs, wide and loud, throwing his head back in delight. The joke wasn’t even funny, and here he is, making Austin think he’s the funniest person Sam’s ever met. However, his laugh is cut loose when, instead of walking away, Austin simply rearranges himself so he’s kneeling on the floor between Sam’s legs, reaching for the fly of his jeans.
“Austin, what- what are you doing?” Sam asks, his head tipping forward and his eyes glued to the top of Austin’s head, and it’s only after the question is out there that he realizes how dumb he sounds.
The younger man simply clicks his tongue, letting go of Sam’s jeans only to pull the band out of his hair, letting the strands fall loose. It’s an invitation, of sorts, for Samuel to run his fingers through it, tugging softly when Austin leans forward and presses a kiss right below Sam’s belly button.
“I’m helping you relax,” he explains, before moving lower.
Sam allows himself to loosen up, head falling back once more, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his grip on Austin’s hair tightens.
Yeah, maybe his job wouldn’t be half as bad if he had Austin around at all times.
Isaac/Esther: “Love has a nasty habit of disappearing over night.” / ♤ / 1 for image drabble / “I should just tell you to leave ‘cause I know exactly where it leads.” / “Where have you been? Where did you go?” Austin/Esther: “Go away, leave me alone.” / “You’re going to lose that boy.” / “You always knew how to push my buttons.” / “You are in love.” / “Yeah, my boyfriend’s pretty cool. But he’s not as cool as me.”
Isaac/Esther:
“Love has a nasty habit of disappearing over night.”
Esther’s eyes are narrowed and she feels not only angered but also uncomfortable. It sets a disgusting feeling in her stomach, something akin to disappointment, but she knows it goes deeper than that. She’s scared. “I hope you’re not assuming that my feelings for you are going to subside anytime soon,” or worse, that his feelings might disappear.
“I should just tell you to leave ‘cause I know exactly where it leads.”
This right here is the type of situation that’s always kept Esther weary of relationships. They are bound to come eventually and as much as she can stand her ground usually - has to, since she wants to be a lawyer - she doesn’t know how to handle this without shaking, without knowing where her head is properly at. It makes her angry and her hands are unstable when she points a finger at him. “You don’t get to fucking do this shit where you push me away because you’re scared,” Esther tells him, trying to keep her voice steady. “Not at this point, not anymore. Stop being a pussy, Isaac.”
“Where have you been? Where did you go?”
Esther knows he’s drunk. It’s written all over his face, it’s in the way his shoulders are slouched and he doesn’t seem to be able to stand on his own two feet. She tosses her keys to the bowl next to the door, letting out a sigh. “I was studying with a couple of friends at the library,” Esther explains, walking towards him and taking his hands in hers. “I have an exam next week and stuff. Why don’t we take a shower and then put you to bed, hm?”
Austin/Esther:
“Go away, leave me alone.”
Esther snorts, getting rid of her jacket and throwing it over the armchair. She kicks out her boots next and then climbs into bed, under the duver and as close to Austin as possible. He’s facing away from her, but Esther doesn’t shy away from being the big spoon, throwing an arm around his waist and tangling their legs together. She presses a kiss to the back of his neck when he doesn’t move away from her. “I know Sam is my cousin, but you need someone more than he does at the moment and Daniel isn’t here,” Esther tells him, voice soft and reassuring. “So you can either rent my ear or just let out those tears you might want to cry and I will be here. I’m always here for you, Austin.”
“You’re going to lose that boy.”
That’s not what she wants to hear right now, but it’s definitely what Esther needs. A reminder that her and Isaac are extremely fragile, especially while they are away like this. She lets out a sigh, resting her forehead against the door and clutching onto the phone. “I don’t know what to do.”
“You always knew how to push my buttons.”
Seeing Austin flushed and bothered by anger is more entertaining than most people would assume. At least for Esther it is. It’s just super funny for her that people think Austin is completely robotic and doesn’t have reactions to most things, or is in a complete neutral state, when it’s always been the easiest thing for her to get to his nerves. Call her a bad friend, but it’s not like he doesn’t do the same to her sometimes. “Someone has to, Mr. Robot,” she tells him, smiling widely. “We wouldn’t want your brain to lose contact with your emotions anytime soon, would we?”
“You are in love.”
Esther head snaps up, but instead of denying like she’s been doing for the past months, she only snorts. “No shit, Sherlock, did you realise that yourself? We would’ve thought a future doctor-” she ignores the way he grunts at the word, knows he’d rather refer to himself as a future surgeon. “A future doctor would have more brains than that.”
“Yeah, my boyfriend’s pretty cool. But he’s not as cool as me.”
Esther shakes her head. “I don’t know, man, at least your boyfriend isn’t covered in paint like you are,” she's laughing when his eyes widen, right before she dumps the gallon of purple paint she has in her hands over his head. “There you go.”
Every bone in his body is yelling at him to simply fall face first onto the bed and sleep until the morning – if not more, actually. The exhaustion had settled in his limbs halfway through the trip back, the only thing keeping him from falling asleep being his hands on the steering wheel and knowing he had two people other than himself to get home safely. One quick glance to the side and Sam knows Austin is the complete opposite.
The younger male look as exhausted as Sam feels – far more, actually -, but his eyes scream that he’s not going to get any sleep anytime soon. It’s too subtle but Sam notices – he notices everything – how his hands are shaking as he goes to remove his jacket and put it over the chair. He’s so out of himself at the moment that he seems completely oblivious to the fact that Sam has yet to walk away from the door and start getting rid of his clothes, eyes glued to the Rickards boy. Sam leans back against the wall, watching Austin unbutton his shirt in movements that aren’t far from robotic and automatic, his thoughts obviously somewhere else. It’s not until he sits down in bed that Sam finally moves.
Memories from the night get back to him. The tension in the room, palpable from the moment they’d walked in, only slightly broken once Penny ran to jump into Lauren’s arms. The hesitancy in Austin’s every move, completely different from the person he actually is, fear translated whenever he dared to break stillness. The eyes that refuse to meet either Sam’s or Austin’s but that still were so effective at showing their disapproval. Samuel had grown with judgmental stares and hurtful comments, but not even he knew how to deal with Austin’s father’s dismissal. What should’ve been a delightful night – Sloane’s birthday, of all people – had ended up being a night in which Samuel had watched his fiancé curling in on himself, being reduced to nothing but a child who only knew what being a disappointment felt like.
Only thinking about not ruining Sloane’s night had stopped Samuel from snapping.
He kneels in front of the raven haired man, softly batting his hands away so he can work on getting Austin rid of his shoes. There are no complaints – Sam didn’t really expect them – as he unties the laces and throws his boots aside, pulling his socks next. Austin’s toes wiggle on the carpet and he makes to stand up, but Sam stops him with hands on his thighs.
“Look at me,” Samuel asks, to no avail. Austin keeps his head turned to the side, giving Sam a perfect vision of his neck, but that’s not what he wants. He calls again. “Austin, look at me.”
Once again, it doesn’t come, so Samuel takes it into his own matters, letting go of one of Austin’s thighs to grab his chin and force Austin’s gaze to meet his. It’s a testament to how tired he is that there’s little to no resistance. So Sam starts talking.
“There’s nothing in the world I want more than to go back in time and remove from your past every single person, every single circumstance, that has ever made you second-guess yourself, including your father,” Austin snorts, rolling his eyes and probably gearing up to contradict what Sam’s just said, but Samuel cuts him off. “No, shut up, I’m talking. You have no idea the lengths I would go to make sure you never went through the situations that made you feel like you deserve less than you do, or that you’re worth less than you are. You hide behind a mask of arrogance and cockiness that gets everybody fooled because sarcasm and wit are genuine traits of your personality, but that’s what it is. A façade, something you fall back on so no one, including yourself, can realize how you actually feel. And it doesn’t bother me, you get to act however you want, but every single time you dismiss a compliment or changes subjects when I’m trying to show you how much you mean to me, my heart aches, Aus.”
Austin forces his head out of Sam’s grip and he lets him, watches as his fiancé looks away once more, teeth sinking into a wobbly lower lip. Samuel’s own head falls onto Austin’s lap, his arms wrapping around the younger man’s legs as he tries to keep his breathing constant, any thought of sleep long gone.
“I don’t- It kills me to stand there and watch you being the target of your father’s coldness,” there’s a sound of distaste that comes from Austin and Sam looks up to see parted lips and a pained expression on the other’s face. “You think you deserve it, but you don’t. You don’t, Aus. You don’t deserve punishment for past mistakes you’ve long redeemed yourself for. Nor do you deserve punishment for being born, contradicting your dad’s wishes to not have another kid. It’s not your fault he can’t see he’s in the wrong here. And I know you’re biting your tongue to defend him, but just listen to me, okay? Just listen,” he takes a deep breath, tears dampening his own face – Sam’s never known how to handle his own emotions. “I know people have made you feel and believe you’re not enough but you’re more than that. You love so strongly and deeply and unconditionally. You’re extremely caring and selfless, you’d never judge someone based on the person’s past. You see me beyond my faults and flaws, you’re extremely hell-bent in believing I’m a saint – me, of all people – simply because I never plan on stop making you happy.
“You know how I tick, you took the time to learn about all my quirks and habits I can’t shake off and you don’t mind the fact that, sometimes, I have to turn the lights on and off eighteen times before we can go anywhere. You love me more than I ever thought anyone could love me. You took to my daughter – our daughter, faster than I could’ve hoped for and you are-“
Austin finally cuts him off. Honestly, Sam’s surprised he’s managed to come this far. But the younger man pushes him away and shrugs out of his grip, walking away from Sam with his back to him. Samuel is quick to stand up, thought, making his way towards Austin in two large steps and wrapping his arms around him from behind. Aus tries to get rid of it but it only gets Sam to tighten his grip around him, up until Austin finally lets go and lets his body sag against Sam’s, his naked back pressed to Sam’s still clothed front.
They stay in that position for what feels like an eternity. It’s almost unnoticeable, but Sam feels Austin shaking in his arms, to which his only reply is to tell the younger man to breathe, pressing kisses on the back of his neck, behind his ear, on the top of his head, anywhere his lips can reach.
“Sam,” Austin is the one to break the silence, but Samuel shushes him.
“Shh, I know you’re going to be embarrassed tomorrow and probably want to hide away from me, probably also hate me a bit” Sam’s already dreading it but he can handle it. He has to. “But for now, just let me tell you I love you. And you’re worth it, and that you’re far better than you give yourself credit for. You’re the love of my life, Austin. You’re my better half. And I can’t live with knowing that you don’t understand what that means.”
Neither of them says anything after that. And if Sam pulls Austin closer when the weakest of sobs rips through the younger man’s body, then well. It’s only them in the room.
The weight of Austin on top of him should probably bother Sam more than it actually does, but he knows for sure that he doesn’t want the other man anywhere else in the world than in his arms. At least for tonight – or if he isn’t denying to himself how much he can’t properly function without Austin around him, for the rest of their lives would be a good enough time to have him right there too.
He knows that, logically, the extra infatuation and over emotionality that came with Austin saying yes to his question should be gone by now. The happiness and riding on the recently engaged wave should have calmed down, and yet here they are, four weeks and two days later, cuddling in bed without the prospect of sex anytime soon. Not that any of them would mind – in the past month, Sam doesn’t think there has been a day in which the two of them hadn’t touched each other -, but the moment is too precious to tarnish. If anything, Sam knows it’d be a dumb move to put to waste Austin’s willingness to cuddle.
Sam’s hands rest low on Austin’s back, fingertips brushing against his skin and serving as an anchor for the two of them. Meanwhile, Austin plays with the collar of Sam’s pajamas shirt – he’s already poked fun at the older man earlier, for being an actual old man and wearing pajamas. His breath is warm against Sam’s face as he speaks, telling Sam something that happened in his anatomy class. Or was it biochemistry?
Truth is; Sam is not paying attention. How could he, with the love of his life mere inches away from him and so, so beautiful, in a breathtaking way. His eyes are glued to Austin’s lips, watching them thoroughly as they move, and he pictures leaning forward, breaking the distance between the two of them, tugging on Austin’s lower lip with his teeth before running a soothing tongue over it. Instead, Sam focuses on the cold metal on his skin, the white gold of Austin’s engagement ring that keeps brushing against his collarbone as Austin fiddles.
“Are you even listening to me?” Austin’s question works wonders at breaking Samuel out of his reverie. Part of him is embarrassed to have been caught in his act, but the other just knows it’s a thing that happens far too often with Sam for Austin to not be at least slightly used to it. It’s not that Sam is condescending towards him by not paying attention sometimes, but it’s hard, when the two of them are standing too close or just together in bed, and Sam’s eyes are on Austin, for him to be able to focus in more than one thing. He reckons that’s probably going to be an issue, in the future, in case the two of them end up going into surgeries together, but Sam reckons he has enough time to maybe try to work on it.
“Would you believe me if I said I am?” Sam counters, earns a roll of eyes from the younger man, but it’s laced with fondness and no matter how hard Austin tries to hide it, it’s been too long since Sam’s been able to see through most of the walls he puts up. He does try to shimmy away from Sam’s grip, but the older man simply tightens it, bringing the other closer to him, even if he didn’t think it was possible. “Come on, I’m sure it was interesting and all, but I have more important matters to focus on here.”
“Oh really?” Austin’s eyebrows arch at that and his eyes are trying to express a fire which his lips contradict, with the way the corners are slightly curled up in a soft grin.
Samuel only nods, a smirk on his face that he doesn’t bother fighting back. On the contrary, he only lets it grows as he leans forward, his lips brushing against Austin’s in a fleeting kiss that does nothing to quench his need of having his mouth mapping the other’s body. It is enough for now, it has to be, because neither of them is willing to move further than that at this point.
“Yeah,” he whispers against Austin’s chin, leaving a kiss on it before trailing his lips up Austin’s jaw. “Like your face. Your eyes, your nose, your cheekbones, your lips.” Sam lets out all at once, knows he needs to get rid of those words stuck inside his throat before he explodes and affection slips out of his tongue with more easiness and freedom than it has right now. “Your body. You being here, in my arms, and cuddling me.”
He chuckles because he sees it coming when Austin opens his mouth to protest, but Sam is quicker. He flips them over, until he’s the one on top and Austin is too light headed to actually form proper and coherent sentences in order to contradict what Sam had said. His palms are flat on the bed and he ducks his head in order to capture Austin’s lips in a kiss, but they are interrupted by the sound of soft knocks on the door. Sam has half a mind to ignore it, knows if something really bad had happened to Penny the girl would be crying instead of being as quiet as she is, but Austin shoves at his shoulders, mumbling something about him being the sensible father between the two of them.
Samuel crawls out of bed, hisses slightly when his feet hit the cold floor, and makes his way towards the door as quick as possible. His five year old daughter is standing on the other side, clutching onto her unicorn plushy for dear life. Sam notices the visible distress on her face and scoops her up. Immediately the girl wraps one arm around his neck, her face buried on her father’s shoulder.
“What’s wrong, P?” Sam asks, adjusting her on his arms. She still fits, even if she’s no longer a baby, and Sam knows he’s always going to find a way to make sure she can find solace in him. “Did anything happen?”
“Can’t sleep,” she replies without offering further explanation. Samuel doesn’t bother questioning her, knows she’s been in a foul mood for a couple of days and it’s probably because of a cold or something in those lines. Austin sends him questioning looks and Sam shrugs, mouths the same words she had offered to him before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Want to stay here with me and abbu?” Samuel asks, and Penny shakes her head no. He frowns, nudging her so she will draw back and look him in the face. “Why not? I thought you couldn’t sleep?”
“I’m a big girl now,” she explains her reasoning with a pout, and Sam hears the fond chuckle that Austin lets out. “Big girls don’t sleep on their parents’ bed.”
Both Sam and Austin laugh at that, and Penny goes back to hiding her face on Sam’s shoulders, undoubtedly embarrassed by what she had just said. He rubs a hand up and down her back, presses another kiss to the side of her head, watching as Austin get out of bed and walks towards them. He’s only clad in a pair of boxers and one of Sam’s t-shirts, even though it’s colder today than it’s been all year.
It surprises him when Austin goes to take Penny, but Sam lets her go. Even if he didn’t want to, it’s not like she doesn’t reach for the younger man in any case, wants to wrap her limbs around him almost as much as she does Sam. Moments like this allow him to know that he’s never going to regret popping the question at Austin so soon. Besides his own personal feelings, the tingling under his skin translated as the necessity of being close to the other man as often as possible, the easiness in which Austin and Penny had settled into a relationship of father and daughter does it for him. Sure, it was hard during the first year when Austin was still hesitant, still tiptoeing around the two of them, but not anymore. They are a family, his family.
“What if I play you something on the piano, hm?” Austin asks her, already moving towards the door with the girl in his arms. “Would you like that, beti?”
Sam sees it when Penny nods, and he can’t help but following the two of them, down the stairs and into Austin’s piano room. The black grand piano Sam gave him for his twentieth birthday takes up most of the room, but it’s not like anyone spends time around here except for Austin. And Sam, sometimes, whenever the distance becomes too unbearable and Aus is in a good enough mood to not mind if Samuel is lingering as he plays. It definitely is a gorgeous piano, but it won’t stop Sam from being annoyed at the fact that sex on it is a proposition Austin still denies.
The younger man takes his seat with Penny still in his lap, opens the fall board and starts playing in a matter of seconds. Sam is mesmerized, like he always is, by Austin’s talent and the way his fingers just know what to do and how to play, the proper way to press the keys. It brings a smile to his lips because Austin goes for the Cloud Atlas Sextet, the one that is ingrained in his brain – his favorite, Sam’s favorite and, seemingly, also Penny’s favorite.
Eventually he moves, gets Austin to scoot to the side so he can sit down next to his two favorite people in the world before he’s pulling Penny to his own lap. Austin doesn’t complain, doesn’t even stop playing, and the girl just curls up in Sam’s arms, resting her head on his chest and watching as Austin plays. No one says a thing, and it’s only a handful of minutes before Penny is sleeping soundly in his arms, her small fingers still holding tight onto her unicorn.
“She’s so big,” Samuel whispers, almost sadly, brushing her hair away from her face and dropping a kiss to her temper. “She won’t stop growing up.”
Only then does Austin stop, hands moving and taking Sam’s face in them. He rubs a thumb over Sam’s cheekbone, head tilted to the side and a soft frown on his features.
“She’s growing up to be a sensational kid because you’re doing an amazing job at all,” Austin reassures him, bites down on his lower lip before continuing. “We’re doing an overall decent job. She keeps telling me stories about school, about how nice she is to everybody and therefore all the kids are nice right back. No one gives her grief for having two dads, no one gives her anything because she’s too good-
“She’s far better than we are,” Samuel cuts him off and Austin tuts, shakes his head disapprovingly.
“She’s a reflection of you, sunshine,” Austin tells him, seriousness taking over his features. “Penny is only this good because of you. You’re the one to discipline her and teach her on the importance of being kind. You teach her limits, what’s right and what’s wrong, and you’re adamant about her giving a massive importance to God in her life. You’re amazing.” It baffles Sam, how Austin can turn into this person sometimes – the only one that can make Sam feel good about himself, that manages to take down all the insecurities that force him to lower his worth to a level he deems more adequate but which Austin disagrees with completely. “Besides, if you weren’t half decent I wouldn’t say yes to marrying you, would I?”
He smiles at that, shakes his head no because he knows Austin wouldn’t have said yes if he wasn’t completely sure of his decision. The younger man is not one to take this lightly and make choices based on impulse only – saying yes to Sam’s proposal meant Austin was a hundred percent sure of it. For reasons Samuel still can’t grasp his mind around of, Austin wants to marry him, be with him for the rest of their lives. It gets his heart to grow ten times bigger.
“I’m going to take her to bed,” Sam tells him, leaning forward and brushing his lips against Austin’s. Penny is still unfazed, little snores slipping from her open lips. “And then we can have engaged sex round number… fifty-three?”
“Six,” Austin corrects him, doesn’t shy away from Sam even though he rolls his eyes at the older male. “We’re not having sex on the piano, Sam.”
Samuel groans, standing up and walking to the door, Penny in his arms.
“Bring the lube when you’re back,” he turns around before leaving, questioning Austin with his eyebrows. There’s a sly smirk on the younger male’s brims, and it scares Sam because he’s one for a devilish mind at times. “I’m not, however, opposed to piano bench sex.”
It’d be a lie if he said he didn’t run up the stairs.
For the past couple of weeks, it hasn’t been a common occurrence. It’s become a routine, of some sorts, for him to wake up with arms around a smaller and thinner body, face buried on pitch black hair and a laziness settled on his bones that can only be associated to a great night of sex. He usually wakes up sated, but tightens his grip around Austin and pulls him closer all the same, lips brushing over the younger man’s earlobe as he finds out whether his advances are welcome in the morning or not.
This time, he wakes up and there’s no one next to him in bed. The other side – the one he hasn’t started describing as Austin’s yet, but the two of them surely know it’s unavoidable and inevitable that they might started referring to it as Austin’s side – is empty but still warm. Sam wants to refrain from burying his face on the oth- Austin’s pillow, but it’s stronger than him. He does so, pressing his nose against the satin and it makes him want to cry, because no one should smell as good as Austin does and no one should actually leave behind their smell this much.
Being infatuated is something Samuel still isn’t comfortable with, but every single day that passes he realizes he has no choice but to accept that there’s no turning back.
He hears a few noises coming from the kitchen and his body is certainly more awake that he’d hope for. Sam has a hard on he was hoping to take care of with Austin’s help, but when five minutes pass and the younger man doesn’t join him again in bed, Samuel lets out a groan, crawling from under the covers and sitting up. He stretches, hands going above his head and listening to the small cracking sounds from his spine. There’s a fleeting thought of not bothering to put on clothes, just appearing to Austin with his cock out and see what the other’s reaction is going to be – Samuel is willing to bet he won’t even bat an eyelash, though, so he reaches for his briefs, putting them on before going down the stairs to the living room of his loft.
Austin is facing away from him, staring at the pictures on the wall next to Sam’s desk. He notes, with a great amount of satisfaction, that Austin is wearing the silk robe he had teased Samuel about. With a grin, Sam wonders if that’s the only thing covering the younger male’s body – he doesn’t doubt it, especially because he’s a hundred percent sure he saw Austin’s boxers on his bedroom floor. He has a mug in each of his hands, is taking a sip from one of them when Sam makes his way towards him. Samuel ignores any sort of personal space limit because they’re far past the point, and only wraps one arm around Austin’s waist, pulling him closer when the younger man startles a bit.
“Morning,” he croons, pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of Austin’s neck.
There’s a chuckle that escapes Austin’s lips and he shakes his head – he subtly tries to move away from Sam’s mouth, but the older man is nothing but persistent. He stays where he is, tightens his grip around Aus and nibbles on the skin until he feels the other finally starting to relax in his arms.
“Good morning,” Austin replies, offering Sam the mug he wasn’t drinking of and Samuel frees one of his hands so he can take it, but doesn’t let go of Austin completely. “Sleep well?”
Samuel nods, nose brushing against Austin’s skin as he does, and if he thought the pillow was good, this is his nirvana.
“Would’ve been better if I hadn’t woken up alone,” he points out, moving back just so he can bring the mug to his lips and take a sip of probably the best cup of coffee he’s ever drank – he’s biased. “Which, by the way, was extremely rude.”
He can’t see Austin’s face but he’s sure the younger boy rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t move away from him which is in itself a great sign.
“I’m sure you’re going to survive it.” Austin offers, head turning to the side a bit and Sam’s eyes meet his for the first time that morning.
His breath doesn’t hitch, but it’s an almost.
Sam does let go of Austin then, because he’s suddenly overwhelmed and this is not the type of feeling one wants to associate with a Saturday morning. No, he wants to feel comfortable and at peace with his feelings, not with his insides churning and a severe case of butterflies in his stomach that have started to appear for no reason at all besides hazel eyes.
He drinks his coffee, instead, almost wishes he could pour half a bottle of gin in it if only to make him forget about the fact that his body itches to be touching Austin’s at all times. Sam can’t even bring himself to step too far away, his arm brushing against Austin’s shoulder, his eyes locked on the younger man’s face as he lets his own gaze stray towards the pictures.
“Is this your mother?” Austin asks, finger pointing at the picture Sam took with his mom on his graduation party. It reminds him that even though Austin knows Sam’s dad – there’s no other option here considering the circumstances – he’s never actually met his mother.
“Yeah,” Sam nods, eyes going back to Austin’s face so to study his reactions. “High school graduation. There’s a picture of us in my college graduation too, but I think it’s in my office.”
But when he’s done talking, Austin is already focused on another picture. Samuel has his arms around two other guys – he’s not entirely sure, but he thinks their names were Alex and Toby – and he’s naked save for the smallest swim trunks he’s ever worn in his life. Sam remembers, with a smile, that it took him over two hours to scrub all that glitter off his body. Austin is smiling too, amused.
“Partying hard?” He asks, arching his eyebrows.
“Nah,” Sam shakes his head, fond memories even if he spent most of that day drunk – not on alcohol, but on the sheer happiness of the people around him. “Pride.”
It’s obvious not the answer Austin is expecting because he finally turns to him, any trace of amusement gone from his face and it makes Sam worry because if Austin has any problem with pride then well… This is not going far. There’s a question in the younger boy’s face and Sam doesn’t know how willing he is to answer, but he lets out a sigh anyways, knows he owes him some sort of explanation.
“I don’t look like the type of guy who’d go to pride parade, I know,” Sam shrugs, takes another sip from his coffee – that ends up being a gulp, the warm drink the any sort of liquid courage he can get at the moment – before putting the mug down on his desk. “But I’ve never wanted to hide who I am. Everybody I know knows I’m gay and I’m proud of that. I have nothing to hide or to be ashamed of, no matter what my grandfather and pretty much ninety percent of the world population wants me to believe.
“I started going in 85, shortly after Will passed,” Sam adds, brown eyes locked with hazel as he searches for the sign that Austin remembers what Sam told him the week before. The younger boy nods. “I think I thought I owed it to his memory or something, but it ended up being something I do for myself. That picture was taken last year. It’s the best feeling in the world not being scared. It’s like,” he’s moving his hands now, trying to convey in words and a limited range of movements how he feels. “It feels so good having one day where I just can be myself and not having to worry about people around me judging me for it. It’s good to have people I have never met in my life smiling at me and sharing this moment, you know? And although it’s insanely sad, it also feels good being able to hold the hand of people who are dying of AIDS, people who need more support than anyone else in the world and fail to get it simply because everybody is still afraid of the unknown.”
He spreads his arms then, gives Austin a shrug of his shoulders as he sinks his teeth on his bottom lip.
“It just honestly feels amazing yelling that I really like sucking dick and not worrying about anyone throwing stones at me for it.”
Austin is quiet for a couple of minutes after Sam’s admission. He looks like he’s studying Sam, raking his eyes up and down the older man’s body, and Samuel would coward front the scrutiny but he doesn’t want to regress back to when he still tiptoed around Austin. He really is proud of everything he is and everything he does, and what some boy has to say about it, if it’s a negative thing, won’t change how highly he thinks of himself.
When Austin moves, it’s to walk towards Sam, putting his mug next to Sam’s. His right hand comes to Samuel’s face, resting against his cheek, and he can’t help but appreciate the contrast of the burgundy of the robe against Austin’s skin.
“You never fail to impress me, Samuel Dawley,” he whispers, moving onto his tip toes and grazing his lips against Sam’s, fleetingly. “And here I thought you were nothing but some white rich boy.”
Sam chuckles, shaking his head. He goes to rest his hand on Austin’s waist but the raven haired boy sneaks out of his reach before he can, looking at him teasingly as he plays with the strings of the robe.
“Maybe I should take you to pride this year,” Sam suggests, following Austin as he takes steps back, the robe almost falling open. “You’d look good in a pink tutu.”
Austin tuts, shakes his head and licks his lips. Sam’s turned on just by the sight of him being a tease, he has no idea how he handles having Austin in his bed and actually lets him leave.
“We should talk about it on the shower,” Austin suggests as he finally lets his robe fall and quickly makes his way into the bathroom.
Samuel’s eagerness to follow causes him to almost fall when his boxers get stuck on his ankles.
Moodboard: Cora Hayes and Darion Kostas (Persephone and Hades)
"he showers her in roses, plants a flower garden for her on black stone, he builds her a castle under the earth.
this is the lord of hell, he will give his queen, any piece of it that she likes.
she rules by his side, an equal not a right hand, she reaps her own crops.
graceful persephone, spring princess, autumn queen.
looming hades, summer king, winter lord.
they rule side by side, a wasteland of the dead, a wasteland of promise."
