Work Text:
“I can’t believe you didn’t know who Fred was,” Kate slurred. Sam’s birthday party had stretched into the wee hours of the morning. “He’s lived here for moooonthhhssss. Sorry he’s kind of a wet blanket though.”
“Hey, I’m right here,” Fred protested, as Anthony, Lulu, and Melody laughed.
“Fred is a fucking ray of sunshine,” Sam said, grabbing Fred’s face to plant a sloppy kiss on his cheek. Again. “He lights up my life.”
Everyone laughed this time, even Fred. “You could really use that,” Melody said with a yawn.
“If I throw up in my bed, I’m sleeping in yours,” Sam told Fred as he uncurled from the couch and headed upstairs after the others. He unbuttoned his shirt as he entered his room and threw his clothes in a pile on the floor before falling sideways across the mattress. He closed his eyes and waited for sleep that wouldn’t come. Instead, his brain was stuck in a loop. On Fred. Because the problem was – he really did think Fred was a fucking ray of sunshine. And no one could have been more surprised than him.
------
For the next few days, Sam didn’t bother asking himself exactly why he couldn’t stop thinking about Fred. Fred was a shiny new toy and Sam just wanted to keep playing. He teased Fred, cajoled him, tricked him, and harassed him – loving every minute of it. And Fred really didn’t seem to mind.
With a growing feeling of possessiveness, Sam found himself tricking Fred into coming with him the day Sam’s family was spreading his father’s ashes. Sam didn’t understand why he needed Fred, but a deeply buried instinct told him Fed could provide something Sam rarely felt. Even among his family, Fred was the one Sam wanted to be next to.
------
Sam didn’t want the day to end, so he suggested to Fred that they watch a movie together. Sam honestly wasn’t sure if it was his wiles or Fred’s that had them watching the movie practically snuggled in bed together, but neither seemed likely to complain.
During a slow point in the movie, Fred looked over at Sam and asked quietly, “how…how did your dad die?”
“Duck attack,” Sam shot back without thinking.
Fred looked horrified. “My god! Was it the pond…where it happened?”
Sam started giggling but sobered quickly. “Ball cancer. Runs in the family apparently.”
“I’ll check yours if you check mine,” Fred answered in a cheeky way Sam loved. Sam giggled again and then, out of nowhere, started crying. Grief and fear were a dangerous cocktail and Sam couldn’t tell if he was crying for his father or for himself. Sam could feel himself working up to a sob, when Fred’s arms wrapped around him tightly and Sam turned toward him, slipping almost naturally into his embrace.
“Thanks for the day, Fred,” Sam whispered. Sam could feel his body relaxing inch by inch as his breathing started to echo the steady rise and fall of Fred’s chest. He sat up and sighed, slowly realizing that Fred was stroking his hand.
“Fred,” Sam said softly.
“Yeah?”
“This ain’t never gonna happen. Okay?”
Sam glanced up to see an unmistakable flash of regret cross Fred’s face as he slowly unwrapped his arms from Sam’s shoulders. Sam leaned away from Fred but did not get out of bed. Sam told himself that he just wanted to finish the movie, but the truth was, Sam hadn’t felt more comfortable in years. He wanted to stay in Fred’s arms. Sam looked down at his hand. The spot Fred had been caressing moments before felt cold and Sam realized with a jolt of surprise that he longed to feel that caress again.
Later, as the credits rolled, Sam began to stretch and looked over at Fred. Fred had fallen asleep with his head on the edge of Sam’s pillow. Sam froze mid-stretch and slowly relaxed back onto the bed. He carefully moved the computer onto the floor and then glanced back at the other man. Fred’s face was fully relaxed and slightly squished from laying on his arm. Sam couldn’t help but notice how soft Fred’s full lips looked, slightly parted and slightly puckered. Fred’s forehead and jawline were far more chiseled than Sam had realized, especially when not wrinkled or clenched in anxiety. Sam grinned slightly – he knew he was the cause of much of that anxiety in the last week – and an unexpected and pleasing sense of belonging stole over him again. He had adored teasing Fred the last few days. In some indefinable way, teasing Fred had felt like coming home.
Sam’s grin widened as a thought occurred to him. He lifted his hand and quietly moved his finger toward Fred’s nostril, giggling silently in anticipation. But as his finger neared Fred’s face, Fred moved slightly and Sam’s finger brushed Fred’s lips instead. Fuck, Sam thought, they ARE soft. He started to pull his hand away but almost involuntarily his finger slowly skimmed Fred’s bottom lip again.
“What the hell?” Sam said aloud, jerking his hand back and jumping out of bed.
“Whaaa?” Fred mumbled as the bouncing mattress jolted him awake.
“Movie’s over sugar lips. See you later,” Sam threw over his shoulder as he practically ran out the door. His last sight of Fred was startled dark eyes in a comically surprised face. Fred’s mouth even made a perfect “O.” Sugar lips? Sam thought to himself, shaking his head. Where did that come from?
It was a question that haunted Sam over the next few weeks.
--
Sam was exhausted. Even with his adrenaline in overdrive after seeing Fred collapse in a hospital waiting room and be rushed to a bed and pumped full of fluids, Sam had never felt more weary. The last few weeks had tested him, drained him, and almost convinced him he was going crazy.
His head propped up on one arm, Sam sat next to Fred’s hospital bed and watched Fred’s face relax as he dozed off again. The moment felt oddly familiar and Sam suddenly remembered the first night he and Fred had spent together, watching a movie in Fred’s bed. Sam also remembered how he had almost managed to tickle Fred’s nostril and a devious smirk slid onto his face. He raised his hand again and slowly moved his finger toward Fred’s face. This time he made contact with the nostril, but Fred just wrinkled his nose without waking up.
Sam’s eyes trailed down, for the thousandth time, to Fred’s soft enticing lips. He waited for the warm feeling of belonging that often came when he looked at Fred, but a deep ache of longing bubbled up instead. Sam had been vigorously ignoring that feeling for weeks and tried everything to get rid of it; sleeping with Lulu, propositioning Melody, tormenting Will, blustering and posturing whenever he was with Fred. Of course he touched Fred and flirted with Fred and teased Fred just like he did everyone else, but he couldn’t keep denying that with Fred it was different. A fucking lot different. Whenever he touched Fred he didn’t just want attention or distraction, he wanted Fred. He wanted Fred’s full and undivided focus. He wanted Fred’s hands on him. He wanted to pull Fred into the nearest room, slam the door, and never stop touching Fred again.
As Sam stared at Fred’s peaceful face, the ache grew into a stab of pain and Sam imagined what it would feel like to give in. To acknowledge and accept the longing. To share his feelings with Fred. And maybe have those feelings returned. It sounded a lot like….freedom. It also sounded absolutely terrifying - a step into a deep unknown and a space of vulnerability he’d never shared with another person. But for the first time Sam realized that this type of freedom might be worth it. Worth the fear, worth the risk, worth the leap. For the first time, he understood what true desire felt like.
It happened in a moment. Staring down at Fred’s face, Sam suddenly let himself go; releasing his fear, his preconceptions, his vanity. In one gentle motion he embraced the passion that had been pounding in his head and his heart for so long and leaned over and pressed his lips firmly to Fred’s beautiful mouth. Sam felt immediately weightless, as if nothing existed in that moment except their connection. Sam felt Fred lean into his kiss but not quite return it and he pulled back to see Fred open his eyes slowly.
“My tiny prince,” Fred said wonderingly, gazing straight into Sam’s eyes.
Sam’s heart soared and a laugh bubbled up in his chest. He turned the laugh into a wry grin and let the rest of his inhibitions float away. Is this happiness? he thought. He sunk back in his chair, gathered Fred’s hand closer, and carefully laid his head on the edge of Fred’s bed, feeling something suspiciously like contentment for the first time in his life. But Fred gripped his hand tighter and started to pull Sam back toward him.
“Do you mean that?” Fred whispered. “Really mean that?”
“Course I do, sugar lips. I know what I want.” Sam’s bravado was back, but he couldn’t hide his joy.
Fred smiled then too. A smile that, although weak and tired, transformed his face and lit up his eyes. Fred leaned forward and slid his hand to the back of Sam’s head, pulling him in. Fred stared into Sam’s eyes for a long moment, then kissed Sam with a ferocity that belied his current position in a hospital bed.
Apparently, Fred knows what he wants too, Sam thought with wonder…and delight.