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Higgs never fit comfortably in Sam’s embrace. His taller form made him have to bend down far enough that his lower back would get stiff after a little while. If Higgs tried to place his hands on Sam’s upper back, his neck would scrunch in an uncomfortable manner, forcing his fingers to loosely intertwine just above Sam’s bottom for a more comfortable hold.
Or when Sam would let him into his bed even after all the terrible things he’d done to him. To Fragile. To Louise. Higgs couldn't help but feel out of place despite how warm Sam’s arms were, wrapping around the taller man's back and pulling him flush against him. Higgs would have to curl up his knees if he didn’t want his feet to be hanging off the bed. He’d never fit on any of his beds. Even when he was small, Daddy made him sleep on the armchair. The ghost of the couch’s arm had dented his body, his neck’s posture poor and pushed forward. Higgs jutted out in odd places, both physically and emotionally, never seeming to squeeze in perfectly with anything or anybody.
Sam himself, though, never seemed to notice how out of place Higgs was. That was one secret that Sam seemed to hold from him, the art of unconditional love. Through every fist slamming against toughened muscle, sharpened nails digging out blood, and the meaningful way Higgs would wrap his fingers around Sam’s neck and squeeze when he would let his guard down at night. Sam never pushed him away completely. The older man would resist and stop him from killing him, but he never exerted any sort of unnecessary force against Higgs.
One time Higgs had pretended to make Sam dinner, a simple pasta dish with a sauce that was thick enough to conceal the glass shards he’d laced Sam’s bowl with. He remembered how Sam immediately spit out his first bite. Droplets of blood dripping past the glass keep them from gushing out of Sam’s mouth. Sam didn’t eat anything offered to him for at least a month after that, he still had a faint scar on his lip aswell. Higgs still couldn’t understand if the memory brought shame from breaking his trust or pride at how much Sam had trusted him.
Higgs didn’t know why he was like this. Sam was so perfect and patient. Yet he couldn’t help but want to ruin everything. Sam stayed with him. Maybe the old bastard was tired of being alone. After Higgs had robbed him of raising his daughter and of Fragile, Sam’d finally lost it. The two knew more about each other than anybody else; it made sense that Higgs was the one he’d decided to stick to. Higgs admittedly felt drawn to Sam too, so badly so that Higgs had found his insecurities again now that he had someone to compare himself to. Someone that he cared about.
He felt like a stray, biting any warm hand that dared to show him kindness even if Higgs didn’t mean it. He couldn’t help himself.
The shelter they hid away in was small, and dark. Its layout was far too familiar for Higgs to be completely comfortable with, a dull reminder of his first house. But the shelter held the standard format of every prepper shelter isolated from the bigger cities. Sam would sometimes come home from long orders late in the night to find Higgs standing in the doorway like a lonesome puppy whose cage had been left open. Wide awake, waiting for somebody. Anybody. Sometimes when he was alone he would hear Daddy again, if only in his head. Higgs knew the man was dead. Hell, Higgs was the one that ended his miserable excuse of a life. But his brain refused to take in the facts. Daddy was the first human he killed, yet it was so long ago that Higgs barely remembered the bigger picture.
Smaller details like the weight of his hands around Higgs’s thin neck, or the curve of his snarl whilst he would spit venom at his nephew. The ache of his wrist after he’d stopped stabbing and Daddy’s sticky dried blood was permanently engraved in his mind. Higgs could never describe those finer details to Sam, though Sam wasn’t the type of man to pry. The journals that Higgs had given him seemed to be enough information on the subject for Sam.
Tonight was one of those nights where he leaned against the doorframe just in front of the shelter's stairs. Only wearing loose-fitted sweatpants that hung off his frame, his sleepy form would be re-awakened by the cold brush of AC against his bare torso. A constant reminder of why he was waiting in the first place. Higgs couldn’t remember the last time he slept without Sam. Well, at least sharing the same bed with him as they both tried to sleep. Both were plagued with nightmares constantly, a symptom of their DOOMs. Something that kept the nightmares away, if only for a moment, was Sam. Higgs mentally joked that it was Sam’s dream catcher that Amelie had made that kept the nightmares at bay. He didn’t like being alone.
Higgs perked up at the sound of the front door swishing open. He snapped out of an unfocused state and fixated on the edge of the stairs. Sam always tried to be quiet but Higgs was already awake, Sam’s footsteps were more like music to his ears. A sound only he could hear, like a dog whistle calling him forth. He waited. His eyes watered at the sight of Sam’s silhouette, impatiently staying still whilst he waited for Sam to descend the stairs. Higgs was glad that Sam couldn’t see his face. Sam paused momentarily in front of Higgs at the doorway before gently grabbing his wrist. More gentle than Higgs could ever deserve. The gesture brought a quiver to his lip, letting Sam guide him through the dark and to their bed.
His lover let go of his hand, presumably to untie his hair and finish taking off his porter suit. Said garment fell to the floor with a soft thump. Higgs lingered on the edge of the bed, his fingers absentmindedly beginning to pull at each other as he waited for Sam to undress.
Sam’s weight joined him on the bed, allowing the porter to guide Higgs onto his back. The older man hovered over Higgs briefly, pressing a fleeting kiss to Higgs’s forehead hesitantly. He then slumped on to the mattress beside Higgs. Higgs had no clue how Sam slept on his back so comfortably. Every time he’d tried to sleep in such a position his feet would get cold from hanging off the edge, or his back would start hurting from forcing himself to stay straight for a long time.
Even though he knew trying to sleep on his back would be futile, Higgs stayed through with the position. Until he couldn't. Change is inevitable no matter how hard you try to keep things where they’re at. Though it may not always be welcome at first, change is necessary for the soul. There is only one way to improve or continue carrying oneself. A concept that Higgs seemed to struggle grasping, even after his 36 years of living.
Higgs yearned for him the moment he stood at the doorframe, waiting for Sam to come back. The taller man turned onto his side. His eyes focused in the darkness on how softly Sam’s chest rose and fell. Higgs shuffled closer, swinging a lanky arm and leg over Sam. The silence felt nearly unbearable. Though like most of these nights Higgs found himself at a loss of words. Sam’s breathing stopped abruptly by the way Higgs pulled into his side protectively. As if caught off guard. Higgs rested his cheek upon Sam’s breast, his ear pressed flush against him.
How quickly Sam’s heart pulsated was a stark contrast to the slow, and lazy way Sam’s arm pulled itself from underneath him and instead curled over Higgs. The calloused pads of his fingers were warm on his shoulder. Higgs could feel the tears pushing up to his eyes already. His kohl was already smeared from earlier when he’d taken a shower, neglecting to take off any leftover kohl and apply a new layer.
Higgs had already spent thousands of years alone on that damn beach. It made him feel pathetic now that he’d wait for Sam to come back from porting everyday. But when 5 hours turned to 10, the nagging question of whether Sam would come back at all would chew away at his mind. He couldn’t stand to be alone for so long again. But he most certainly did not deserve Sam’s kindness to ease that anxious ache. Especially now when it’s god knows how late and how tired Sam must be.
“Higgs.”
Sam was so quiet, Higgs nearly missed his gravelly voice. So lost in his own thoughts. Higgs didn’t look up, content with listening to how violently Sam’s heart would thump against his ribs. Higgs stared into the wall, one of his eyes shut closed against Sam’s skin. He appreciated how the older man's heartbeat would silence any of his thoughts. Easing his mind.
A waiting tear dripped from his eye from the tender pressure of Sam’s lips on his scalp. Sam rubbed his thumb gently into Higgs’s shoulder. Higgs couldn't find the sob waiting to wrack from him, instead, his tears filled in that occupation. Sam didn’t have to deal with Higgs. Sam didn’t have to treat his wounds every time Higgs decided to hurt himself. Sam didn’t have to keep Higgs out of the UCA’s exploitative grasp.
But he did. And that's what hurt the most. Higgs knew he was awful, irredeemable, ending countless innocent lives so carelessly was not something he was proud of in his past. But the past didn’t seem to haunt Sam as much as Higgs thought it would. He’d never directly forgiven Higgs outloud, and he would never expect Sam to. Though he couldn’t help but feel like he was given a second chance. He didn’t deserve that sort of chance, especially not with Sam.
Sam was never good with emotions and Higgs never expected him to know exactly what to say. He knew Sam wasn’t some wizard who would magically cure all of Higgs’s diseases. Higgs didn’t want him to. He knew how Sam handled his own emotions, shoving them down and away in favor of taking care of others. Higgs sometimes wished he was like that. Instead of lashing out at Sam like he always did.
He sniffled, pushing back the snot threatening to leave his nose. Sam repositioned himself, guiding Higgs off of him for a moment before he got on his side as well to properly face Higgs. Sam’s frown etched into his tired features, his scruffy eyebrows pushed towards each other in concern. Higgs couldn’t bear to cry in front of him like this. For such a stupid reason too. Guilt.
Higgs dug his fingers into Sam’s side, trying to hide his face in Sam’s embrace but Sam put a hand between them. A confused cry choked its way from Higgs’s throat, nosing desperately at Sam’s palm.
“Please,” He pleaded, aching to disappear into Sam. Just for a little while.
“Tell me what's wrong,” Despite his worn tone, Sam kept his concern firm and insistent. Higgs knew he cared but he wished Sam would just let him cry and not ask anything. It was always easier like that. He hated being vulnerable, he hated how Sam made him want to be vulnerable.
“I missed you,” He sucked in a breath. “S’all,” A quick and easy response that wasn’t exactly a lie. But it wasn’t the root of his distress. Higgs curled his hands over Sam’s, trying to intertwine their fingers so he could move Sam’s hand out of the way. Sam sighed, allowing Higgs to push away his hand and bury his face into his neck.
“‘M here,”
Higgs appreciated Sam’s gentle squeeze of reassurance to his palm. The taller man cleared his throat, still sounding fragile.
“I know,”
A certain quiver carried over, inhaling Sam’s scent as much as he could with a stuffy nose for comfort. Sam’s non-intertwined hand drifted to the back of Higgs’s head. Thick fingers began to softly card through his blonde hair.
“I love you,” Sam murmured.
Higgs wanted to ask why. He didn’t though. Pressing a wet lick to Sam’s throat instead. Higgs drug another lap of his tongue before lightly teething other the spot. He bit down, eliciting a grunt from Sam. If he really wanted to, he could tear a sizable chunk out of Sam. Higgs brushed the thought away when strong fingers strengthened their grip on his roots as what Higgs interpreted was a warning.
He released the sensitive patch of skin, anticipating the bruise that will have formed by morning.
Higgs nuzzled into Sam, his tears, wetting his lover's warm flesh. Sam scratched delightfully as his scalp before lightly moving his hand down to tap on Higgs’s shoulder.
“Go blow your nose,” that was the only warning Higgs was given before Sam gently pushed him away to sit up. Higgs was about to protest but a strong sniffle kept away any complaints for the moment.
“Yeah, yeah” Higgs mumbled, following Sam out of bed and to their bathroom.
Sam ripped off a couple pieces of toilet paper, handing them to Higgs. He took a couple pieces and blew into them all at once. Higgs was suddenly grateful for the tissues. His least favorite part about crying was how his nose would run too. Sometimes the snot would make him feel worse.
“Ya don’t gotta, y’know,” The taller man mumbled, crumpling the wet toilet paper before trying to toss it into the trashcan beside the toilet.
“‘Don’t gotta’, what?” Sam inquired, by the raise of his eyebrows Higgs had missed the trashcan entirely.
“Come with me to clean up, cuddle up all snug at the end of every night with me, everything else that you let me do to you.” He got quieter at the end, guilt building up inside of him again.
Sam frowned. The older man grabbed some more squares of tissues before standing in front of Higgs. He gently dabbed at Higgs’s tear-streaked cheeks and eyes.
“I want to.” Firm and brief. Blunt as Sam always was. He threw the tissues away once Higgs’s face was dry. Despite Sam’s efforts Higgs could feel tears glazing his eyes again. Sam sighed, tilting his head up to press a kiss to his lover. “Come porting with me tomorrow.”
Higgs sniffled, straightening the hunch in his back.
“Thats the best damn idea I’ve heard in a long while Sammy,” Sam only gave him a small nod, also giving Higgs another mass of tissues so he could blow his nose.
Once Higgs was physically straightened up, the taller man urged that they go back to bed. The bright bathroom light was beginning to bother him. Sam climbed into bed first, letting Higgs mold himself into Sam the way he wanted to.
Higgs didn’t want to bother Sam anymore with his emotions (not that he actually was), so he sucked it up, and held Sam as close as he could.
His insecurities could wait for the morning.