return_to_nola

Being away from Oliver was difficult; at some point, maybe, a 24, 36 hour separation wouldn't ache. But right now, it did, and maybe that was because it was new love, or co-dependency, or any number of reasons, but it was one thing Sam didn't really wish to rationalize. Sam (and Scott, especially Scott) were prone to rationalization above all us.

With Oliver, he tried just to feel.

Sure, they had already seen each other again after Sam's overnight -- Sam had stopped by Oliver's studio as promised, for a quick hello and a kiss and a cup of coffee -- but a quick, public moment like that couldn't replace the moment they were both at home together, alone, with nothing to do but be with each other. It was the only company Sam wanted.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, was a pang of guilt for not devoting his spare time to solving their 'situation' -- but they really didn't appear to be in danger, and the situation could wait.

Right now, Sam was coming home to the man he loved, who promised to wait by the door for him. To test that theory, he knocked on the door rather than opening it himself.

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Oliver was still kissing Sam when he came again a short while later. It was less intense and sharp this time, more like a warm wave washing over him, coaxing out his orgasm. This was pleasure he could linger in, press his hands flat against Sam's chest and gasp and murmur to him: oh and look what you and fuck yes and God, I love you, I love you. And when it finally ended, he trusted that Sam would be there to hold him.

It was beautiful. It was so beautiful. Oliver was so beautiful. Sam loved watching Oliver, loved the things he said and the ways he touched, and yes, he did immediately, when it was over, wrap his arms around Oliver and hold him close. “Hey handsome,” he murmured fondly. “I love you too."

"Good, thanks," Oliver sighed, and curled in tight against Sam. If he could just snuggle deep into Sam's arms and never have to leave, that'd be fine by him. "Your wrist's probably sore now, sorry."

Sam laughed, softly. “It is, but it was worth it. I haven’t been injured on the frontlines in a while.” And this was a much better way to be injured than, for example, fighting government-sponsored killer robots. He kissed the top of Oliver’s head, lovingly.

Oliver rested his head on Sam's shoulder and smiled against the crook of his neck. "But if you get carpal tunnel, what good will you be to me then?"

“I’ll still have my mouth,” Sam pointed out. He loved when Oliver curled into him like this.

"Fuck, that shouldn't be hot," Oliver mumbled, laughing. He loved when Sam held him like this.

“It was supposed to be!” Sam protested, but he was laughing too, so loved and happy here.

"I meant so soon after coming." Oliver gave Sam's neck an apologetic kiss, the effort of raising his head too much to even consider. "You're very hot, sugar."

What a sweet apology from a very sweet man. Sam kissed the top of Oliver’s head in response. “I think a third time might be beyond even us."

"Not without a few hours and some Gatorade. And protein, probably." Oliver considered that for a moment before deciding, confidently, "We could do it."

“Well now you’ve given me a challenge.” Yes, Sam wanted to see if it was possible.

"Okay, just give me a minute." Oliver's eyes were closed.

“While you have a quick naked nap in my arms on the couch?” Sam asked, charmed.

"Mmhmm." He petted Sam's arm clumsily. "The best naps are naked, and with you."

“You don’t want to nap in bed?” Sam hadn’t planned on napping, but why not? It meant all he had to do was be with Oliver.

"Okay, bring it here." He did not move.

“We would have to go to it, babe,” Sam replied apologetically.

Oliver made a soft sound of distress. "You promise the bed's better?"

“I could spoon you, you could stretch out…” No one would wake up with an aching neck or back...

"Mm, okay, you convinced me." Oliver opened his eyes and sleepily got to his feet, waiting for Sam.

And Sam slipped his arm around Oliver, more or less steering him directly into their bedroom. “You’re extremely cute when you’re sleepy,” Sam told him casually as they moved, and then he helped Oliver into bed. “My heart could burst looking at you."

Oliver slid over onto his side of the bed and turned to watch Sam, his eyes soft in the dim light of their room. "I hope not. I like your heart."

“You’re incredibly sweet,” Sam replied as he wrapped himself around Oliver from behind, holding him warmly. Oliver’s sweetness had been a wonderful surprise.

"Don't tell anyone, it'll ruin my image." Oliver snuggled back against him. "And I'm only sweet because of you anyway."

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