Oliver

[nola_cyclops]

Sam had started the drive from Westchester to Connecticut quietly, shifting between X-related rumination and affection for Oliver. He would drift away on some thought or memory or other (a softball game, a funeral, a moment with a student, playing chess with Charles) and then return back to reality -- back to Oliver -- and reach out to him with some topic of conversation or other.

But as an hour turned into two hours, Sam was feeling more solid. His shoulders loosened, the knots in his muscles gradually uncoiled, and he found his smile more frequently. He even, at one point, sang along to the car radio. It was good to be going home, to be chasing a tricky Scott moment with a positive Sam one.

And now it was time for Oliver to meet the Scotts. When they arrived (they had pulled over to cast critical eyes over their appearances; Scott had changed his shirt and combed Oliver's hair), it was like stepping into a sunny patch of day, even though it was getting late.

Sam had grown up with just his mom and his aunt. His mom had bought the house when she was pregnant with Sam; they had lived here his whole life. It had never been weird that he raised by his mom and her sister; they loved him like parents and loved each other like best friends, and they were fun, outgoing, loving people. They were women quick to laugh, women who played board games like they were the coolest thing in the world, women who owned a karaoke machine and who still, even without Sam, hung out at the piano in the living room and sang songs together.

When they arrived, it was all a happy blur. Sam's aunt ("Call me Sarah", she had ordered Oliver with a hug and a kiss on each cheek) had greeted them with cocktails. Well, more specifically, a cocktail called "The Oliver," which was minty and zesty and disturbingly accurate. She was talkative and friendly, and she managed to take Sam and Oliver on a tour of the house -- excluding Sam's room -- in which she lovingly made fun of Sam in every single room. (If Oliver had been nervous about fitting in with this family, maybe this introduction would make him more relaxed).

And then Sam's mother had arrived home from work, and Sam, who now remembered a life where he had lost a mother in a horrific way, hugged her a little too hard and too long. But he was comfortable here at home, and he held Oliver's hand under the table at dinner and laughed as he accused his mother and aunt of cheating at a brisk game of monopoly (Oliver had been given first pick of player piece, because he was the guest).

Finally, though, they were alone again, and now, Sam could show Oliver his room. It was exactly as it had always been: neat and orderly, clean, a slate of neutrals. There was a Top Gun poster on the door, of course, and a keyboard stand and guitar stand next to it in the corner (the keyboard was in New Orleans, the guitar was exactly where Sam had left it). His bookshelf was stacked with books and model planes, and a few model cars; there was a framed photo of Sam, his mother, and his aunt on his desk (his mom must have kindly removed the photo of Sam and his ex that used to sit beside it). There was a corkboard with old pennants, photos of Sam in baseball uniforms or costumes, an invitation to a wedding he'd attended with his ex, his college acceptance letter, little slices of his quiet little life. The room was an oasis from the colour and happy noise of the rest of the house, and it was here that Sam leaned against the wall, finally fully loose-limbed and comfortable, and watched Pietro-Oliver meet baby Sam through his things. For once, there was a free and uncomplicated smile on his face. "So this is it."

Comments

[nola_cyclops]

"You hold a lot back from me," Sam replied, quiet but not upset. It happened often, but it had happened a lot today -- Oliver would say something simple and keep harder things to himself. Sam noticed. "I'm not judging you for it. God knows I operate like that too. I understand it better than anyone. I don't want to ever force you into something you don't want to do, but I think... at some point, you might need to open up about all the things you shove aside. It doesn't have to be to me, but I hope you know, when that moment comes, that you can always come to me, and I'll always listen."

[nola_quicksilver]

"I don't..." Oliver found himself blinking back tears, and he had to take another moment to get that under control. Tonight had been happy. He wanted them to stay happy—both of them had had so little of that toward the end, as Scott and Pietro. It didn't make sense to him to heap pain back on. To talk about how Father's Day had been hell, how the Wanda in this world's indifference to him felt like he'd let her down somehow. They could be happy instead.

"I can't right now," he finally said. "But thank you."

[nola_cyclops]

"I know. It's okay. I just want you to know that I see it. I see you. And I love you." Maybe one day he'd be able to show it in the ways Oliver showed it to Sam, like earlier today, in the middle of a field full of broken dreams and failures and enormous hopes.

[nola_quicksilver]

"You're the best thing in my life," Oliver told him, quite honestly, and kissed the top of his head again.

[nola_cyclops]

"You're the best thing in mine. I hope you believe that." Sam -- well, Scott -- understood what self-loathing could do.

[nola_quicksilver]

"I do. And I know you love me." Oliver looked down at Sam with a faint smile, reaching out to trace the slope of his nose with a fingertip. "I even think that if we did go back, we'd fight to stay together."

[nola_cyclops]

What a sweet little touch. Sam smiled. "We would. That's a fight we'd win." Something new to live for and build on for Scott and Pietro.

[nola_quicksilver]

"How do you think people would react to us?"

[nola_cyclops]

"Which people?" Sam had some ideas.

[nola_quicksilver]

"Your people." Oliver had his own ideas.

[nola_cyclops]

"I don't have many of those left. Emma, wherever she is, would get it. She'd hate it, hate you, but she'd get it. If Alex didn't remember from here, he'd laugh for a week. I think Illyana would enjoy it." Sam had, genuinely, thought about this. "Logan would be concerned. There would be a lot of jokes about our -- about the Professor and Magneto. But a good group of mutants are convinced that I need to chill and they probably think me being with someone makes me a little less tightly wound. What about your people?"

[nola_quicksilver]

"I think there'd be a lot of jokes about me obviously wanting Alex and settling for you," Oliver said flatly. He was mostly thinking of Guido and Jamie then...well, maybe most of X-Factor. Regardless, it was obviously bullshit. "I don't think any of the Avengers would care. Wanda would welcome you to the family with open arms. I don't know what my father would think. Who ever knows what he thinks?"

[nola_cyclops]

Sam thought a lot of the Avengers would care, but also, fuck the Avengers. "Alex wishes," Sam scoffed, kissing Oliver's cheek. Sam also had an idea of what Erik would think, but he could keep that quiet.

[nola_quicksilver]

"Ugh, I hope not." He made a face. "I'm not interested in double dipping into the Summers family."

[nola_cyclops]

"Yeah, that's never happening again." It was bad enough when Madelyne did it.

[nola_quicksilver]

"Don't worry, it won't." With genuinely no offense meant to Alex, the thought made Oliver queasy. "I only want you, no matter the universe."

[nola_cyclops]

"And I'm not going anywhere. No matter what happens." This was it. This was who he was now. He was Sam, and he was Scott, and he was with Oliver/Pietro.

[nola_quicksilver]

"Damn straight. You're mine and I'm yours." He wasn't losing this. He refused.

[nola_cyclops]

"That's right. Even if we go back. Especially if we go back." Sam couldn't say it enough.

[nola_quicksilver]

"You'll stand in front of the X-Men and proclaim your strange new love for Quicksilver?" Oliver couldn't help laughing at the mental image.

[nola_cyclops]

"Sure." He'd done it for Madelyne and he'd done it for Emma; he wouldn't hesitate before doing it with Pietro. "Right now we're working out of the back of a bar, everyone spends their nights sitting in the booths. My granddaughter is there, it'll be a special moment for her. I'll walk in with you and say Logan, put down your beer, everyone, I'm in love with Quicksilver. Any questions? And then there will be too many questions." He smiled, a little.

[nola_quicksilver]

"Wait, if we're living in a bar with everyone else, where will we have sex?" Oliver, of course, concentrated on the most important questions.

[nola_cyclops]

Sam laughed. “There are rooms above the bar. Someone’s probably already having sex in theirs, people always are.”

[nola_quicksilver]

"Okay, good." But another distressing thought had already occurred to him. "Do you think you'll be attracted to me as Pietro? Physically, I mean." Asking Scott to want to sleep with someone who looked like a younger version of Magneto was...possibly a big ask.

[nola_cyclops]

“I’m also not saying you have to live in the bar and join my team—“ Though it wasn’t like Scott could abandon this last ditch effort. Oh, and Magneto had been on his hit list... but listen to the question, Sam. He smiled, and reached out to touch Oliver’s hair. “With your hair that does the thing? Yeah, I think I can manage. We’d get to learn each other all over again.”