Work Text:
Sammy hated parties. The sheer concept of a hundred people packed together in a room talking and laughing with music so loud you could barely hear your thoughts drove him insane, and on top of that everyone had to bring something for a potluck. He was planning of not going, of finding a random excuse good enough to not show up, but honestly? He couldn't think of a believable lie that Joey wouldn't look straight through. His only consolation was that Jack was going, because unlike himself, Jack did enjoy parties.
In a rare moment of kindness from the studio, all employees were allowed the day off to prepare accordingly. Both men had decided to go together, and at 9pm Sammy was already outside Jack's building.
He was a punctual man. Always on time, not a minute more, and not a minute later. Jack was the total opposite, always 15 minutes late to everything, so Sammy had told him he would pick him up at 8:45 so he would be ready by the time he got there. Sammy got up to the second floor and knocked twice on Jack’s door, who opened it a couple of seconds later.
The man was wearing a white shirt, a velvet vest with an almost invisible rose design, a suit of the same color and a black tie that matched his shoes. What Jack lacked in punctuality, he had it in style, and Sammy always thought he was a well dressed man.
—It’s only a work party, do you really have to out-dress us all?— Sammy said with a playful tone.
—Just because it's a work party doesn't mean I have to dress poorly,— Said Jack with a slight smile. He approached Sammy who had gotten inside the apartment. —and learn how to tie a tie properly, it’s loose.
Jack fixed Sammy's tie quickly, who looked the other way as he did it. The composer was wearing a bone colored shirt, suspenders that matched his shoes, and a brown suit that matched the tie. His hair was slicked back, but a curl was poking out at the front, as every time he tried to push it back in place, it would always end up poking out back again. Jack thought it was kind of cute.
—So, did you remember to make something? For the potluck, I mean. —Sammy leaned on the side table behind him as he spoke.
—Oh. No. I was hoping you could share what you made.
—You have to be joking. —His expression changed instantly, directing a piercing look at Jack.
—Of course I am you idiot. —He hit Sammy’s leg lightly with his cane, and left to the kitchen. He quickly came back with a glass casserole. —Can’t believe you fell for it. Again.
—Jokes are meant to be funny, aren't they? —He reached his hand to remove a bit of the aluminum foil covering the container, but Jack pulled it away before he could.
—Don’t we have a party to go to?
Both men left the apartment and were quickly outside of the residential building. They got into Sammy’s car, who turned it on and began their way.
It was dark and slightly cold, and Sammy’s car was covered in the smell of cheese, onion, and potatoes, clashing strongly with the smell of the orange cream cake Sammy had baked. Turns out that they didn’t only excel at opposite areas of music, but also of cooking. The car’s radio was playing “All this and heaven too” by Frank Sinatra and the Tommy Dorsey Orchestra, just loud enough so you could tell what song it was. Each of the men were concentrated in their own thoughts.
Jack was in the passenger seat, looking through the window. There was a light layer of snow covering the streets, and the sidewalks were lit by the light of nearby businesses and street lamps. Passersby were carrying bags full of gifts and food, walking their pets, or holding the hands of their loved ones, and Jack payed special attention to the latter.
He had been described as quite an attractive man a few times before, and he had no trouble in the world of love. He had dated a few women in the past, but none of those relationships worked out in the long run. While they always ended in friendly terms, he had never been able to picture himself living the rest of his life by their side. While he knew how to treat women, it seemed he didn’t quite know how to love them.
Jack liked the idea of marriage, though. Of settling down and waking up next to that someone, but it couldn’t be just any someone. What if he got married and then found out it was with someone he didn’t really love? All of that time wasted, and what would be left? Even then, he still believed in true love, although he was almost 34 and still hadn’t found “the one”.
Most of the times that he had tried to picture himself standing at the end of the aisle, looking at the bride in the eyes, she never seemed to have a face or any features at all. But those few times where she did, he had always shaken the thought as quick as he could, because “she” was always a “he”. And that “he” had a name, and a face, and a voice, and that “he” was sitting right next to him.
Sammy was driving steadily next to Jack. He usually drove quite fast, but the fact that the road was icy and that he didn’t want to arrive at the party made him slow down. His eyes were on the road, but he was also immersed on his thoughts. He was grateful Jack was there, as he wouldn’t be able to survive such an event on his own. It was going to be an insufferable night full of people you don’t know trying to make conversation all of a sudden ‘cause they are too drunk and bored out of their minds, and he was not in the mood to deal with that right now. At least Jack, who didn’t have the same sentiment but at least understood him, was going to be there to keep him some sort of company.
They had their disagreements. Multiple times, actually, but they always ended up finding a solution. That’s the only way a 20 year old relationship ends up working anyways. When Joey hired both of the men to the studio, Sammy didn’t think it was going to work out for both of them. They had big dreams about their career together, but a rough time finding work made them get into a couple of heated discussions were the worst traits of the other came to light. It happened well over 10 years ago, but thinking about it really made Sammy wonder how a man of his temper managed to keep such a good friend as Jack for so long.
For Jack, it felt like hours, but for Sammy, it had only been a couple of minutes since they had hit the road, and now they were right in front of the studio, which seemed pretty lively from the outside. Sammy parked the car and both men grabbed their things, heading into the brick building.
It was noisy, people were talking and music was playing just loud enough so you could hear people speak, but not low enough to be able to make out their words. They set the food on the table next to everyone else’s, and before they realized, Joey Drew had spawned behind them and laid one hand in each of their shoulders.
—Sammy! Jack! I’m so glad you two made it, —the man was grinning and smelt like expensive cologne. —this party would have been incomplete without you.
—We wouldn’t miss it for the world, Mr.Drew. It’s a nice event you have here.—Jack replied. Joey’s sudden apparition had startled him, unlike his partner who seemed more annoyed than anything.
—The music could be lower, though. —Sammy removed Joey’s hand from his shoulder, but the devilish looking man put it back in place immediately.
—Haha! You’re a funny man Sam. There’s more people I have to talk to now, but I'll see both of you later. Enjoy!
The man disappeared as quickly as he popped up, and Sammy left out a noise of annoyance.
—Did he just call you “Sam”?
—Not even my mother calls me that. I need a drink.
They both grabbed a plate from the table and served themselves. Everyone had brought something, as it was obvious from the random assortment of food and drinks laid out. They each grabbed a share of the food and quickly found an empty table to sit at. It had to be said, the place had been decorated quite nicely, albeit it didn’t look all that like a Christmas party.
The table only had 2 chairs, and everyone seemed too immersed in their own conversations to join them. Some members of the music band greeted the men, but didn't speak to them for long. They chatted for an hour or so, although it was Sammy doing most of the talking. Even if Jack was the one with the better people skills, he had always been a better listener than a talker.
The table had a dim light as a centerpiece, and it lit both of their faces nicely. Some people had said that under certain lighting Sammy looked sharp, insect like even, but Jack never saw it that way. His angular face was one of the things he liked the most about him. Jack’s face was rounder, and his hat was casting a shadow just above his eyes, while the light made their color pop. It was a hazel brown, and Sammy hadn't noticed how beautiful the lyricists eyes were until then.
They kept chatting for a while, until a familiar voice interrupted them.
—Mr. Lawrence! Mr. Fain! It's nice to see you both! —Wally emerged from a group of people and got close to the table, he had definitely had a couple of drinks already. —Y’all look great, by the way!
—You look rather nice yourself, Franks. —Said Jack. Wally was wearing a simple but nice gray suit with a white shirt, but the top buttons were unbuttoned and he was wasn't wearing a tie. Maybe Jack was a little overdressed.
—Hey, I actually wanted to ask if any of you knew who brought that orange cake?
—It was me. Why? —Sammy replied and raised an eyebrow.
—Oh! Mr. Lawrence you should leave some talent for the rest of us then! I was lucky to have a piece and I must tell you, that was some of the best cake I've had in my entire life. And I'm not exaggerating! Shawn can tell yo-
—I believe you Franks. Thank you, —Sammy tilted his head to be able to see the food table, and noticed the only thing left was the plate. —It seems to have been a hit.
—I mean it was really good. —Jack added, he had tried Sammy's baking before and could attest to Wally's claims.
—And the casserole was amazing too! If I find who made it, I'm gonna give her a fat kiss. —The janitor started looking around, as if trying to “find” who made it.
—Mm, I don't think I want a kiss from you. —Jack smiled as he spoke, he was flattered, in a way.
—Huh, I didn't even think it could be you. Maybe I am a bad person. —Wally laughed. —Well, I'm now gonna leave you very talented gentlemen alone. I wanna try some of that new cider and I don't think Shawn saved me a glass. I'm outta here!
Wally left immediately and approached a group of people who greeted him warmly. Sammy heard Jack laugh, and turned around to see the man was laughing at him.
—What’s so funny huh?
—Nothing… just pictured you with a bun and an apron baking the cake.
—Oh you are so immature. —Sammy rolled his eyes, but he wasn't annoyed. —…do I at least look good?
—Very cute.
They talked for a bit more, and before they realized, another hour had gone by. Maybe this party wasn't that bad.
The number of people had been reduced. Some had left and some had disappeared to other parts of the studio. Mr. Drew himself was nowhere to be seen. Sammy had decided to stand up and grab too glasses of cider for him and Jack, and had just returned.
—Oh, thank you.
—It's nothing. —Sammy took a small sip. —Eugh, what the hell is this?
—Uh, cider?
—I know that, genius. It tastes like crap.
—I don't think it's bad, actually. Just, I don't know, different. —Jack said, and then took a longer sip. —It doesn't taste like anything, really.
Sammy drank it anyway, was he supposed to throw it? They started talking again, although Jack was the one leading the conversation now.
A couple of minutes passed, and Jack noticed that Sammy's mood had changed. He looked at his watch, almost midnight. It was clear the brunette was bored out of his mind, so Jack had a risky idea.
—Hey, want to ditch this party?
—Oh thank God. —Sammy immediately stood up. —I was wondering when you would say that.
Jack told Sammy to wait for him at the stairs, as he had to look for something. The man returned after 5 minutes with 2 cold beers in his hands.
They went up the stairs, and realized that's where some of the guests had gone. Most of them were couples, and they saw some people making out that had never made out before. They were all too focused on their own business and didn't pay attention to Jack and Sammy as they made their way up to the stairs.
—Was that Grant Cohen I saw down there with Joey's secretary? —Sammy said, as both of them exited the stairs to the rooftop and were away from everyone.
—To each their own, although I think she was way too excited… —Jack chuckled. People were having fun and that's what parties were for, right?
The rooftop was empty and almost silent, as only the faint sound of the music downstairs and the noise made by the passing cars could be heard. It was almost creepy to see it like this, and oddly reminiscent of their first meeting with Joey Drew all those years ago.
Both men were now truly alone. Jack pulled a couple of chairs stashed in a corner of the roof, as it was common for people to come up here to smoke or chat during their breaks. They sat down and Sammy carefully opened both bottles with his lighter.
—Is that what you do with the lighter I gave you? —Jack grabbed the beer Sammy was giving him.
—Do you want it back?
—Who said I was complaining?
Sammy smiled. Jack had gifted it to him last year for his birthday. It was a Dunhill French lighter with his initials engraved on it, and he had no clue where Jack even found it. He didn't accept it at first, it was too expensive, and 25 dollars for a lighter was no joke. Still, Jack wouldn't take no for an answer, and Sammy took really good care of it, almost looking brand new asides from a small dent on the backside.
They sat down and talked. About life, about the view, about the ever so annoying Joey Drew. They liked the studio. Both of them wanted stardom, but they didn't mind working here in the meantime. The time would pass anyway.
And so it did. Time passed as they talked and drank their beers, and they weren't bothered by anything or anyone. It was nice, watching as the snow settled on the city of New York.
20 minutes had gone by, the bottles were empty, and they had gone quiet, listening to the sound of the voices slowly fading as people were going home.
—Guess the party is almost over, —Jack said, without taking his eyes off the night sky. —and I thought you would have gone home by now.
—So did I. Guess I changed my mind. —Not a word was spoken for maybe a minute or two. —…You know, I'm glad it's you.
—What do you mean? —Jack turned his head to the side, looking at Sammy's profile. The musician didn't look at him as he spoke.
—I’m glad that I'm doing this with you. This whole “partners” thing. Even if we don't make it big, I would be fine with it. I feel like I'm actually doing something with you.
Jack never thought he would hear those words come out from Sammy's mouth. He was a reserved man, not even with Jack was he ever that open. It wasn't an alcohol driven confession either, they hadn't drank enough. It was genuine, he had chosen to tell him that right there and then, and Jack couldn't be more glad.
He didn't reply. He just… stared. At his face and how pointy it was when looked from the side, how his glasses reflected the city lights, how his hair was flowing with the wind.
He looked at his eyes, his nose, and finally his lips.
—Are you going to say something or- —Sammy turned his head to face Jack, and was immediately interrupted by the lyricist leaning in and kissing him.
For a second, none of them pulled away. Sammy kept his eyes wide open, and Jack closed his. One couldn't believe what was happening, the other hoped he was making the right choice. Jack pulled away after a couple of seconds, opening his eyes but not having the guts to face Sammy to his face.
—Sammy I- I'm sorry. I didn't- I didn't think it through and- —he was stuttering. He had always had a way with words, as they came naturally to him. But not now. Now, it felt like he was in high school again, hiding behind the bleachers giving his first kiss to Mary from calculus. He apologized profusely, and his face was red. Was he blushing, or was it pure embarrassment? Maybe it was a mix of both. Sammy didn't say anything for a while, but Jack felt the man's stare penetrating his soul as he spoke.
—No.
—…What? —Jack finally faced him. Sammy was looking at him with an expression he couldn't decipher as either confusion or disgust.
—No. Do it again.
Jack's mouth opened to speak, but he kept the words in and shut it again. Without question, he did as the man asked. They kissed again, now for longer. Jack leaned from his seat and Sammy put his hand over Jack’s chest. He could feel his heartbeat, his heart pounding, like it was about to break through his ribcage. They separated and both of them made eye contact for a second before immediately looking away.
Sammy turned around in his seat, making sure no one had seen them. He wasn't a religious or superstitious man, but God, did he hope that no one was secretly watching.
Maybe 15 minutes passed. They didn't talk or move or look at each other. They were as silent as they could be, seeing the city but not looking at it anymore.
Jack didn't know how to feel, his breathing was odd and he kept biting his bottom lip. He did it. He kissed the man he had dreamed about, the man who always took the place of the bride in his fantasies, the man that was sitting next to him and that had been right by his side his whole life. Thoughts were racing his head. How could Sammy be so calm? What did he think? Did he hate him now? He couldn't even dare to look at him, what if he had ruined 20 years of friendship in one instant? He wasn’t one of them queers. He had nothing against them but he liked women. That's just not who he was… right? And even if he was, if he hypothetically liked both, what was he supposed to do?
Sammy was silent. He kept trying to focus on something. The stars, the buildings, the noise, anything that could take his mind away from this moment. But it didn't work. It all kept coming back to here, to the now, to the fact that his best friend since childhood had just kissed him in the mouth and that he liked it. That he didn't pull away but leaned into it's as if he had been waiting for him to do that. He hated it. He was a man, for fucks sake. He couldn't be a faggot. But… it was true that he had never kissed anyone before. That he had shown no interest in romance before. Until now. Could that be the reason? That he never understood romance, because he was looking in the wrong place? How did Jack feel? Did he really love him? He didn't know the answer to any of that, but it would be a lie if he didn't say that sharing a kiss with Jack didn't take a weight off his heart.
Both of them had the same questions on their minds. Of what to say, of what to do, it was all so strange. They were too scared to say something, to figure out what the other thought, to speak up first. After a while, it was Sammy who took the first step.
—Let’s never talk about this again.
Jack thought about his words carefully, but finally, he replied.
—…Okay.