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There were very few things Jack Wright liked about Sammy Stevens. He’d made a very long list of these reasons, written on scraps of paper and in notebooks and in an app in his phone, and he spent a lot more time than he’d like to admit cycling through them in his mind.
For one, he didn’t like werewolves. As far as Jack was concerned, a person who didn’t like werewolves (or, horror, a person who didn’t believe in werewolves) was not a person worth knowing. If they didn’t believe in werewolves, they probably also didn’t believe in things like vampires, or lake monsters, or fae, or aliens or magic or true love. What was the point of bothering to interact with somebody like that.
Sammy was also really secretive. Jack didn’t know if it were on purpose, but if you asked him something about his family or his life before college, or even as simple as his interests, he would answer in the vaguest, most awkward way imaginable, before trailing off and abruptly changing the subject. Jack wasn’t sure what his deal was - assumed the most likely reasoning was that he just didn’t like him much. Which was fine, he got it. He was a lot to handle, but Sammy could at least not be weird about it.
There was also that real annoying thing Sammy did with his hair. He was constantly playing with it - tugging it, running his hands through it, snapping it, twirling it with his fingers. Jack found himself unable to focus on much else when he was around, and he caught himself beginning to ascribe words like ‘lush’ and ‘beautiful’ and ‘shiny’ and ‘caramel coloured’ to it, and that just made him feel incredibly queasy. The part of Jack that was fascinated by Sammy’s hair, also knew that Sammy would be disgusted by him if he knew.
Also, Sammy seemed to have all the worst traits of his sister, Lily. Not that he didn’t love Lily, snark and all, but when there were two of them in a room together, it was just exhausting. Sammy was petty, and angry, and sarcastic, and sometimes Jack couldn’t tell if his ‘teasing’ was supposed to be affectionate, or just flat out mean. He seemed to do it more often than necessary, at any rate, and it felt more like a performance for Lily than anything real.
He wished he would just tell him if he didn’t like him. People didn’t always have to get along. It was fine, really. Jack had no idea where he stood with Sammy, and that made him nervous. He was always clear about his intentions, with everybody. No matter the cost. If he liked somebody, they knew about it. If he hated them, only god could help them. But he found himself hesitating during every interaction with the older man, withdrawing within himself, holding back his feelings.
Which was partly why it was a shock to him when Lily approached him with the idea. A Radio Show. The three of them. Morning Drive. Sammy and Lily, the on-air talent, and Jack Wright, Producer Extraordinaire. For some reason, Lily was pretending the offer to join them was Sammy’s idea, but it didn’t matter to Jack really. He was on board immediately, of course he was. This was The Dream, and he wasn’t going to let Sammy Steven’s ruin it for him.
Sammy Steven’s who regarded him with narrowed blue eyes, and a guarded smile, and who bit his lips way too often in a way that was incredibly distracting.
Sammy Stevens who was Lily’s best friend, and way too beautiful and funny and clever for his own good.
Sammy Stevens who took up 80 per cent of his waking thoughts, and 100 per cent of his dreams. The good, the bad and the super inappropriate.
It’d always been his and Lily’s dream. The two of them.
Somehow, two had become three, and Jack should’ve been less okay with that.
He wasn’t okay with that.
(He was okay with that.)
Because Jack would watch the way that Sammy joked with Lily, and watch the way that Lily casually slung her arm around his waist, and he would smile wistfully as Sammy smothered her face with kisses whilst she shrieked in horror. It was easy for him. They loved each other, genuinely loved each other. It was sort of beautiful, in a way that made Jack’s heart ache. He wanted that too, more than anything. Not with Sammy, of course not with Sammy. But with somebody, anyway.
That wouldn’t stop him from being pleased when Sammy gestured for Jack to join them, and he would feel a burning in his chest every time they locked eyes. That was normal though, for friends.
Sammy loved Lily, surely, so anything else was out of the question. Jack would never dream of getting between Lily and the probable love of her life. Especially not when that person were Sammy (who, upon reflection, he maybe didn’t dislike as much as he he had once thought, once hoped.)
Being part of JackAndLilyAndSammy was everything to him, even if he were mostly just the third wheel. He's far from jealous - couldn't think that of Lily, ever. Wouldn't want to of Sammy, either. The sun never bothers being jealous of the moon and the stars.
(But maybe one day, Jack could fall in love with somebody just as wonderful, and three would become four and everything would be perfect.)
For now, he could be happy for his sister, and their shared radio show, and the stolen glances, and brushing of fingertips and whispered encouragements and concerned looks and kind gestures were good enough. Sammy was family, and he was fantastic. Sammy, Jack and Lily were family - three in one. Three stooges, maybe, but perfect nonetheless. Because for the first time, he felt he belonged somewhere.
There was no way he would ruin that for a stupid, fleeting crush.