by Aiden Bates
The silence of the house closed in on Sam once more, but it wasn’t nearly as heavy as it had been before, and he didn’t feel quite so boxed in because of it. With a firm nod to himself—because it was just as he had told Adam, that life didn’t stop because he was going through a drop—and brought his orange juice up to his bedroom with him.
It was time for work, after all.
There was something comforting in the monotony of his job, of being able to mechanically work out his contracts and speak with his clients as he went about his day, and it was a nice distraction to what he was experiencing emotionally. He didn’t want to completely ignore what the breakup with Dustin was making him feel, just that he didn’t want to try and address it while his body was working through no longer having a mark—one step at a time, he told himself as he continued to work.
Eight hours of answering client questions, making corrections in designs, and sitting in conference calls later, and he clocked his time on his company timesheet, happy that his day was done and that he could take the rest of the day to relax. As he stretched his arms over his head, he spared a glance over at the clock—only just five in the evening at that point. But it was the dead of winter, and so it was already getting dark outside, he noted glumly as he glanced out the window.
It was strange, he thought to himself as he lightly touched the bandage on his neck. Strange how he had been so utterly emotionally devastated yesterday, and yet today he was merely…numb. That was the best way to describe how he was feeling, in so much as he simply wasn’t feeling. Was he already out of the worst of it? It shouldn’t have been surprising; he and Dustin’s relationship had been crumbling for a while now, and he knew that, in his heart. To say nothing of the…complicated feelings that he had for Adam. Feelings that he might as well unpack now, he decided as he stood from his desk and took his cup to the sink downstairs.
For however much his heart ached at the thought of Adam, there was one easy thing he could acknowledge: he was attracted to him. It wasn’t even something he had to question. Adam was a good looking man, kind, considerate, and had a long history with Sam that had forged a bond strong enough to make it through the worst of times. He was steadfast in his dedication to his friends, to Sam, and had always stuck his neck out for those he cared for. He had so many admirable qualities, so many of them that Sam had cherished and reveled in over the years that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had taken for granted.
That was not to say that he took Adam for granted—he wasn’t physically capable—it was just that he had been so close to Adam for so long, that even when he was with Dustin and their relationship was at its best, he still couldn’t see his life without Adam in it, beside him, in some capacity. It didn’t matter whether he had tried to picture the family he would start, or where he would find himself in ten years, Adam was there, in his mind, right next to him—even when he couldn’t picture Dustin there, he could see Adam.
Looking at it from that angle, it was a marvel that he hadn’t realized what he had felt before—although admittedly, he was reluctant to call it love simply by virtue of how soon it was after his breakup and how tentative his feeling okay currently was, but he could still trace the start of his feelings, and knew that they were something that had almost always been there.
The question left was a simple one that posed no immediate answers: what was he to do about what he was feeling?
Sam gave a sigh and raked a hand over his face, feeling even more tired than he already had. As much as he didn’t want to simply toss himself onto his bed and nap until his problems went away, the allure of his bed was almost too much to ignore, though he perked up when he heard the front door open, alerting him that Adam had come home from work.
“Adam?” Sam called out, stepping into the hallway and peering over the railing of the stairs to see the Alpha stepping out of his dress shoes.
“Hey, Sammy,” Adam greeted with a grin. “Finished up work early, so I’m home.” He trotted up the stairs. “What d’you want for dinner? I was craving pizza.”
“Pizza…actually sounds really good.” Sam admitted quietly. “Though just cheese—or maybe cheese and veggies.”
“Right, no cooked meat smells.” Adam said as he slipped into his own bedroom to change. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in a movie mood. What do you think?”
“Pizza and movies?” Sam asked, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. “Sounds like us in high school.”
“And middle school!” Adam called out from behind his door.
“I’m down for that,” Sam agreed, nodding. “Want me to order the pizzas?”
“Sounds like a plan—just mushrooms and green peppers on mine, please!” Adam called out, though his voice sounded more distant than it had before—likely because he was in his closet rummaging for clothes.
Sam pulled up his phone and placed an online order for their pizzas—cheese for him and the requested mushroom and green pepper for Adam—and about that time Adam stepped out in some clean pajamas. Perhaps it was fresh awareness of his feelings—or at least, his final acknowledgement of the feelings that had always been there—but even in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, Adam looked marvelous, with every muscle on display for Sam to drink in. And he did—like a parched man in the desert drinking from an oasis.
“I’m thinking we could watch a bunch of really, really bad movies and make fun of them.” Adam suggested.
“I mean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “If we’re going to do that, we might as well just watch Mystery Science Theater Three Thousand because they’ll do it better than we will.”
“Ohh, hadn’t thought of that.” Adam conceded, tapping his chin. “Sure, I actually think I still have that box set stashed in my closet. Let me try and dig it up real quick.”
“If you don’t, I think I have almost all of the seasons saved on my computer.” Sam reassured him with a laugh. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Do you want anything?”
“Nah, I still have some tea in my thermos.” Adam reassured him. “I’ll go poke around, see if I can dig up the DVDs.”
Sam was fairly quick with pouring himself some juice, and by the time he had stepped into Adam’s room with his cup, Adam was stepping out of his closet, huffing in mild irritation.
“I take it you couldn’t find it?” Sam offered, smiling.
“Sadly, no.” Adam grumbled. “I’ll have to really poke around my storage later, see if it wound up somewhere else.”
“It doesn’t have to be now.” Sam shook his head, walking over to one of the tables on either side of the bed and setting his glass down. “Let me go and get my laptop. Do you have an HDMI cable?”
“Yep!” Adam said, popping the ‘p’ as he nodded.
Sam went and fetched his laptop from his desk, opening it as he walked back to Adam’s room. Adam handed him the needed cord, and Sam was quick to set up the laptop and a playlist of the movies they wanted to marathon. Adam had trotted off to grab dishes for their food and back down the stairs again to get the pizzas when they arrived not long after Sam had gotten their makeshift theater set up. Before long, they were sprawled out on Adam’s spacious bed, their pizza boxes open and their spirits merry.
“So,” Adam said as he pulled a slice of his pizza out of the box and carefully set it on his plate. “Ready for another movie marathon?” He asked, wagging his eyebrows dramatically.
“Aren’t I always?” Sam asked, giggling as he took a bite of his pizza.
“True, true,” Adam conceded, nodding his head as the opening credits of the first episode began to play.
As they tucked into their food and began to laugh along with the movie, Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly as he let himself enjoy the familiarity of this situation—nestled in a cocoon of comfort, with Adam’s warmth at his side, the Alpha’s scent lingering in the air, and them both munching on pizza as they looked forward to spending time together.
“Oh, hey, I remember Gamora,” Sam co
mmented as he chewed on a mouthful of pizza.
“I remember hearing about it,” Adam noted. “But I don’t think I watched any of the solo movies—just the ones with Godzilla in them.”
“Honestly? You pretty much saw the Gamora ones, then.” Sam admitted, and they shared a laugh. “Oh, hey, did you know that the man that had to wear the suit for Gamora passed out from heat exhaustion on more than one occasion?”
“Really?” Adam said, blinking owlishly at him. “You’d think they’d fix that so he wouldn’t have to suffer.”
“One would think.” Sam said, clucking his tongue. “But this was decades ago. I don’t think there were a whole lot of actor protection regulations at that point.” He took another bite of his pizza, chewing for a moment before continuing, “There was one good thing about it, though—the stage hands helped modify the suit so that it was more breathable, and later on they actually figured out a way to put fans inside the suit.”
“Fans?” Adam asked, sounding surprised.
“The system has evolved into a more complex and effective cooling system, but it’s still nice to see that such constraints helped to create innovation.” Sam said, his smile growing soft. “It’s just…it’s just really nice that, that the actor’s peers all saw him suffering and worked as hard as they did to help him be safer while he worked.”
It was a silly thing to gush over, Sam knew. It was just a bit of film history that he happened to know because he loved the old black and white films that he grew up on, watching reruns of them as a kid. Yet, the anecdote was something that struck a chord with him, especially considering that he had only managed to get out of the situation that he was in because those that he had surrounded himself with—his friends, his chosen family—all looked at the situation that he was going through and all worked together to help keep him safe. The thought brought tears to his eyes, and he felt a spike of frustration because of it; it was only something that he even knew because he liked movie trivia, but here he was, crying about it like it was a Hallmark Christmas movie.
And yet, Adam seemed to pick up on it, reaching over with his free hand to help wipe away the tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes. Sam looked over at him, turning his face toward his, and knew that Adam had, at the very least, figured out that Sam was doing better. He wasn’t okay, not yet, but he was healing, and he was healing as well as he was because Adam was there—because he was always there for him. There were no more words shared between the two of them on the matter, but the moment was poignant enough that they both still seemed to understand.
While their banter quickly returned to lighthearted fun, and they enjoyed their food, their movie, and their company, Sam felt like they had shifted, where they were poised on the precipice of something more than what they were, though he found himself unsure of what any of it meant, only that he wanted to see where it led.
10
More than Okay
By the time the two of them finished it was shockingly late, and it soon became clear to the both of them that they were both beginning to wilt. Sam found himself beginning to doze, leaning back into the pillows on the bed, and after seemingly only a few moments of silence he opened his eyes again, wondering when he had shut them to begin with, only to find his friend fast asleep. For a moment he wondered if perhaps he’d be better off slipping out, going down the hall, and going to his own bedroom but he worried about waking Adam up; the Alpha had been going nonstop on his behalf for almost three days now, and he wanted him to at least get some rest. He frowned a little as he struggled with himself—would it have been better to leave and have Adam wake alone or stay and make an easy excuse? It wouldn’t have been hard; an innocuous ‘I fell asleep while we were talking,’ would hardly be something out of the ordinary for either of them, even given the setting and their history; it had happened with such frequency over the years that neither of them had ever even thought twice about it before.
But that was before, he noted quietly to himself.
What ultimately settled him on staying was how peaceful Adam looked in that moment, despite the deep purple bruises under his eyes, and Sam recalled something about him from when they were still kids having sleepovers: whenever he didn’t sleep well, Adam had nightmares. Terrible, cold-sweat inducing nightmares that often left him gasping for air and clawing at the blankets. His mind made up, Sam closed his eyes again, resolving to be there if Adam woke up startled at any point in the night. If he had to be there to wake him up and remind him that he wasn’t alone and that everything was alright, he was more than happy to do so—Adam had done that and so much more for him already.
If Sam had any dreams of his own throughout the night he couldn’t remember them, and he roused himself slowly, as he always did, though feeling more than a bit disoriented and keenly aware of the ache in his neck. As the fog of his lingering sleepiness cleared he realized that there was a warm weight resting against his side, and for a brief second he had a jolt of panic that set his heart to pounding until he remembered that he didn’t fall asleep on the bed alone— that it wasn’t even his bed that he fell asleep on to begin with—and that the someone he was sleeping beside was Adam. Everything was all right as long as it was Adam that he was sleeping beside.
He exhaled slowly, quietly, and closed his eyes again, relaxing back against the overstuffed pillows Adam was so fond of and looking at the mop of unruly brown curls resting against his shoulder. His fingers twitched with the urge to card through the wavy locks, just a little, but he refrained from doing so, contenting himself to rest the hand half trapped by Adam on his side as the man slept half on top of him, snoring gently.
Sam had almost fallen asleep again when the dozing Alpha drew a slow breath and shifted a little, leaning a bit more of his weight and warmth against him. A moment of indecision struck him then—should he pretend to be asleep, or would it have been better to try to find something to say, he wondered—but neither of those things were even given a chance to happen. Adam rolled over more fully against Sam’s side, the movement made his eyes widen slightly, and he flushed deeply at the way that the new position made it impossible to avoid feeling the firm, pulsating length of heat pressed against his thigh. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat and tried to think of something, anything that would keep his body from reacting, though he failed spectacularly.
A quiet moan from Adam set his pulse racing again, and he closed his eyes tight in an effort to contain his reactions. God, he really should not be here. He should just slip away before Adam moved practically on top of him and go to his own bed and try to pretend that this had never happened…perhaps even after a frantic bout of relieving himself. But he wanted to be there beside Adam, very much, and that sinful thought made his face burn with shame. As luck, be it good or bad would have it, Adam blearily opened his eyes and looked at him as he shifted again with a roll of his hips that almost felt deliberate, one hand coming up to clutch at Sam’s sleeve, and he let out a low, soft growl.
Sam opened his mouth to say something—I’m sorry being the most likely candidate—but the word promptly fled his mind when his lips were swallowed by a needy kiss as Adam pulled himself up and claimed his mouth for his own. Though his eyes widened in shock, he was helpless against the onslaught, his own hands came up to grip at the Alpha’s broad shoulders, his strong biceps, anywhere he could reach because this was happening. Finally, this was happening. Any protest he may have had died before he could even think to voice it. He didn’t dare try to rip this sliver of happiness, of heaven, from himself or from Adam. As much as he might like to pretend not to know how long they both had been wanting this, he knew they had both been pining for years. As shameful as it was to take advantage like this, he was too weak to fight against his feelings and draw away. Adam’s kisses felt like drowning and flying all at once, and Sam clung to the Alpha all the tighter as he shifted over him fully, pressing against him in just the right way that Sam let out an unconscious cry of pleasure
.
Sam wasn’t quite sure who flinched first at the sound, but they parted with a gasp and a low whine he couldn’t even pretend to try to hold back, lips swollen and parted. Adam’s eyes were wide and wild, their pupils blown out in desire, and once again Sam tried to say something—a plea for more, an excuse as to why this was happening in the first place, anything that could make them and what was going on okay—but a subtle movement from Adam’s hips made a groan bubble up low in his throat and what came out instead was a mumbled, half desperate keening from the back of his throat.
“Adam,” he whined, unable to stop his hips from grinding up against Adam’s. “Adam, Alpha, please don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”
There was a split second of hesitation, a pause that lasted the span of a few heartbeats but stretched out into eternity as Sam tipped his head back imploringly, though he still made a point to hide his scars; he wanted to be marked by Adam, his whole body cried out for the bonding, but he was still afraid of the rejection that could follow—he could hardly blame Adam for refusing to mark him when he had just been frantic to not feel empty after removing Dustin’s mark—because things were different now. He could no longer run away from what he was feeling. Though that did little to stop the fear gripping at his heart. He could handle being turned away by most anyone in this world, but Adam…Adam was different, he always had been, and the only thing that Sam regretted was how long it took him to see that.
Sam blinked back the sting of tears at the thought, met Adam’s heated gaze, and watched those glittering eyes snap from his to look down at the flesh he’d just bared to him. The Alpha’s eyes darkened even more as they grew glassy with the haze of instinctual desire. Adam’s clever tongue darted out to wet his lips as a shudder rippled through his entire body as he dove into Sam, and then suddenly that searing mouth was attached to the Omega’s neck, nuzzling at his pulse point and biting ever so carefully beneath his scent gland so as not to leave a visible mark. It was a tease, and Sam knew that, but it didn’t stop the scar on the other side of his neck from itching with the need to be replaced.