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About a month ago Alex caught himself looking at Sam differently. And not in a weird way. No, no, of course it wasn’t like that. It couldn’t be like that. It was more so… admiration. Alex could appreciate anyone that tried as hard as Sam did. And it wasn’t that he was a show off, that would’ve pissed him off. Sam was simply the kind of guy that wanted to do his best and pushed himself until he achieved that goal.
Like with his guitar. No matter how messy his style of music and play was, it was intentional; and if he unintentionally got it wrong, he would sit there and troubleshoot until he got it right.
Sam had tried to explain this to him once, words as messy as his thoughts probably were, so he just invited him to come watch Goblin Destroyer practice. “It’ll be fun,” he’d said, “You’ll be a special guest. Like, the first guest on our guest list!” Sam had beamed at the idea but Alex was just glad he didn’t have to sit through another ten minutes of music theory and Sam banging on his desk in attempts to explain his musical process.
Though when he got to his house the following week, he understood even less than he had before. He wasn’t upset, merely glad to be there in the first place, but Sam clearly was. He’d messed up his riffs, dropped his pick more than once, and blanked out on lyrics several times during a song they’d allegedly finished weeks ago.
“Did you forget how to play guitar, dude?” Abigail eventually snorted, mindlessly drumming a tune on her snare. “I thought you were ready to go big?”
“Shut up,” Sam shot back. There was a bite to his words, eyes unmoving from his guitar as he carefully plucked the metal strings. “I have it, it’s just… I don’t know. Gimme a second.”
Alex watched Sam’s left hand slowly move along the neck of his fiery guitar, fingers sometimes stretching far apart. He had a concentrated look in his eye, choppy layered hair dangling in his face and slipping over his shoulder. He almost seemed to be in his own world, unable to be drawn back to reality until he was ready. That is, until Sebastian quietly made a snarky remark and Sam heard.
His hand had slipped, pick awkwardly scrapping a string and making the guitar ring out a horrible note. As he quickly muted the strings, his head snapped in Sebastian’s direction. “What?”
Sebastian shrugged nonchalantly. Whether or not the comment was for himself clearly didn’t matter, as he repeated himself with such smoothness. “I said, you act like we have an audience. It’s just Alex.”
At first the comment kind of stung, made Alex feel as if he wasn’t meant to be there. He hadn’t exactly been the kindest to Sebastian in high school, so he got it, but it still hurt to be boiled down to someone you hadn’t been in a long time.
Sighing, he tried to ignore his own feelings of inadequacy and turn them into something worthwhile. “If it means anything, I can’t exactly judge when I can’t even play a kazoo. I always thought you were meant to blow into them…”
Sebastian subdued a laugh, a ‘tch’ like sound coming out his mouth. “Good Yoba.”
Sam barely moved, eyes flicking in Alex’s direction instead. His expression was unreadable. “It doesn’t even matter if you don’t play. I know. And also, one’s an audience. Always will be. If I can’t play for one person like they’re a thousand, I can’t really play at all, can I?”
He didn’t really know why his chest tightened at that. Maybe he felt appreciated, thought it was cool Sam would try that hard for an audience of one. Yeah, that was it. He admired his determination. Nothing more, nothing less.
There was also that time a few weeks ago when he caught Sam retching behind the Joja Mart while on a jog.
“Hey, man!” Alex had shouted across the stream, holding up his water bottle. “You good? Need a drink?”
Sam jolted up from his half bent over position, covering his mouth with a crumpled brown paper towel. It looked like those rough ones from public restrooms. The ones that simultaneously caught no water and disintegrated upon dampening. “You didn’t see that, right?”
“I did.” Seeing Sam frown, he faltered, looking for something better to say. “Kinda. Nothin’ crazy gross. Happens to the best of us though.”
Stepping back from the mound of trash bags and his own mess, Sam took a deep breath. “Can I take you up on that offer?”
Alex hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be right there.” Caring for someone wasn’t exactly on his list of things to do that day, but as he ran up and across the tiny plank bridge, down passed the bookseller and more Joja Corp mess, he realized maybe it should’ve been. Sam was a sickly pale, hand sprawled out against the concrete exterior wall of his work. The position seemed necessary, like letting go would have him crumbling to the ground.
“You don’t have to tell me I look like shit, I know. Shane already told me to stay away from him six times today. He says I look like a sickly Victorian child and that he doesn’t want my disease.” He let out a gruff laugh, but Alex knew it was only to soften the reality of his words.
Alex popped the top of his clear and blue water bottle, holding it in Sam’s direction. It was about half full of a red, fruit punch flavored liquid. “You’re lucky today, Samster, usually I just bring water but I was feeling a bit dehydrated this morning and figured sipping on this periodically would help.”
Sam took the bottle and without hesitation, began downing the drink. Alex, in horror, snatched it back before he could get a second large gulp. “Hey!”
“No!” He cried. “Are you crazy? You have to sip or you’ll be sick again.”
With the kicked-puppy look Sam now gave him and the fact he was standing in front of him in his work uniform, Alex very much knew the answer to that question. He almost felt bad even asking, rhetorically or not.
“I wish I could go home,” Sam eventually mumbled, wiping his hands and face of the spilled drink, “But I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Won’t get paid. That’s why I’m here.”
“Oh.”
“I tried to call out last night but I don’t have any sick days and Morris won’t let me pick up another shift next week to make the time up. And I need the money to help my mom out so, y’know,” he tittered, “I’m here.”
Alex wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, so he said the next best thing: “It gets better.”
Sam groaned and dropped his head to Alex’s shoulder. “I know. It will. Sometime.”
There was no real reason for the hesitance in Alex’s actions that day. He was a big hugger, would hug anyone if they just asked. But now his reaction time was slow. He was a bit too in his thoughts, thinking about how sweet it was Sam would forgo his health for the sake of helping his mom with whatever it was. It was admirable and he knew he’d do the same for his grandparents.
He did eventually get that hug out, though, making sure his water bottle was closed shut before wrapping his arms around Sam. He could feel the other sink into him, his body easing from the tension that’d built up.
“I’m glad you happened to run by, by the way.” A pause, then a laugh. “Sorry you saw me like that though. ’S gross.”
For another inexplicable reason, he found himself rubbing Sam’s back with his free hand. “Yeah, man, it’s cool. I’m just glad you’re feeling better.” What an assumption to make. “‘Cause you are, right?” He clarified.
“Yeah. I’m pretty alright. At least it’s outta my system.”
Alex refused to let that interaction tumble around his head very much. He was just being a good friend, that’s all. A good friend that enjoyed his friend’s company; a good friend that wanted his friend to be okay. And that was perfectly normal.
Just as normal as their workouts together.
He and Sam had been workout buddies for a while now. Sam wasn’t as consistent as Alex was, sometimes skipping out to hang out with his other friends. Like when Sebastian needed help planning out their next Solarian Chronicles session or Abigail needed help sneaking out to go to a concert with Haley. It’s not like he was jealous of them, of course not, he just missed the competition.
Sam was strong and had enough stamina to keep up with Alex’s workout routine, but not enough to ever beat him in any proposed challenge. He’d throw out a random number, a number he knew he could reach, and bet gold on it. Push ups, burpees, mountain climbers… it didn’t matter, he was betting.
“A hundred push-ups, 10g if you beat me, right now, go!” And without a beat he’d drop down to the ground, practically planking until Alex followed with a sigh and joined him. He’d waste all his energy going quickly on the first fifty or so before slowing down considerably. Then he’d get to a hundred, arms wiggling beneath him until he collapsed. Alex never paid him any mind, never collected his winnings, he just continued his push ups and watched Sam roll on the ground in laugher until he too couldn’t continue.
It never seemed to him like Sam actually wanted to win, he just wanted to do what he could and make a game out of it. He was never upset when he lost and never truly rejoiced the few times Alex slipped up (like the one time he didn’t properly chalk his hands and lost his grip mid pull up). It just seemed like the company was all that mattered to him and, when he wasn’t there, Alex felt like something was missing. Even when Alex tried to play a game by himself, set timers and try to reach insane numbers, that void was not filled. Frankly, he felt lonely, so demotivated he wanted to find excuses not to work out too.
So he just stopped doing those things without Sam. His workout routine was practically cut in half, reduced to the running and lifting Sam could care less about. Those things had been what he started with anyway, quiet pastimes that kept him in his head lest he listen to music and sing instead.
He hadn’t even considered that maybe that behavior was a bit strange, far from the admiration he’d chalked it up to, until Sam popped his head into the gym on a whim after not being seen all week.
“Lexamillion!”
Alex had earbuds in, but his music was awfully low, always hoping (maybe even praying) he’d hear that obnoxiously loud voice once again. Lowering the two twenty pound weights from above his head, he sat up, and looked toward the door. He felt a little dumb for smiling, for getting excited he was already changed into his workout clothes and ready to join him. But it was fine, this was fine. Close to normal enough behavior. Yes. He was just excited his workout buddy was back.
He pulled out his earbuds, not bothering to shut his music off, and stuffed them into the pocket of his basketball shorts. “Hey. You’re back. Missed ya, dude.” He didn’t have to say that last part, didn’t really mean to either, but he was glad to have aired out his thoughts. For some reason it made him feel better.
“Y’know, I was kinda starting to miss the awful smell of the locker room. Not that it’s been all that long, but…” Sam shrugged, hand coming to the back of his neck as he smiled bashfully.
Oh, oh no. Alex looked down at the black bench he sat on, feeling his face get hot. And not just his cheeks. Beneath his eyes, his ears, the bridge of his nose, his whole fucking brain as it turned to mush. This was different, this was more than admiration. There was no excuse this time. He couldn’t say he admired his determination. He couldn’t say he admired his care for his family. Fuck, he couldn’t even say he admired his nonchalant outlook on keeping fit. He’d missed Sam, he’d missed him so much that he hadn’t realized what missing him really meant.
“Hey, you good, dude? You look kinda flustered.”
Alex moved the weights to the side and scooted back on the bench, resting his head against the wall with his eyes closed. “Yeah, I’m good. I mean, I guess I’m good.” He didn’t have to look down to know Sam had taken his place, sitting down on the other end of the bench.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Alex tilted his head slightly, one eye open as he made eye contact with Sam. Sam and his stupid green eyes. His pretty green eyes. “It’s really fuckin’ stupid,” he said, facing him properly.
Sam gasped dramatically. “How could you say that about me?”
That was a joke, Alex knew it was a joke, but it still scared him. The idea that Sam somehow knew the problem was him was absolutely terrifying. Yet, it still made his heart ache, still made his ribs squeeze the air from his lungs.
He must’ve been quiet too long, because now Sam was red. “You’re joking, right? Not that that’s a bad thing but like—”
“It’s new.”
“How new?”
“Just now. I just realized.”
“Like—”
“Yeah.”
Sam scooted forward, bringing his hands to either side of Alex’s face. “I’ve been so bad about hiding it.”
“Yeah, I also just realized that.” He’d never really gotten to take a look at Sam’s face this close, or at all, really. He knew he had piercings, almost always the first to notice a new one. He knew it took until early winter for his summer freckles to fade. He knew his nose was a bit crooked from the time he fell face down into the pavement after fucking up a skateboard trick and broke it. He knew all these things, but this close he could actually see them, take them in.
“You said you missed me?” Sam asked, getting closer. “I’m sorry. I should’ve made time.”
“You’re my best friend,” he whispered, swallowing, “And I think I’m in love with you.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, Alex now able to see the gap in his teeth (also from another skateboarding incident).
“Yeah.”
“That’s okay.” First he brought their foreheads together, noses brushing in the process. Then he spoke, words only audible at this distance. “Me too.” And then his lips were against Alex’s. Oh how he admired and yearned to feel those chapped lips a million times after this.