return_to_nola

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."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

nola_cyclops

Sugar. It was still a pleasure to hear. “You make me feel valuable.”

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Because you are," Oliver said, sounding surprised. Surely Sam knew that.

From:

nola_cyclops

It was complicated. But when Sam was with Oliver, it all became a lot less complicated. “You’ve stopped asking questions,” he pointed out, a slight shift.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver decided to let him get away with the subject change, He'd had a day, after all. But that didn't mean Oliver was going to give him easy questions.

"How did you lose your virginity?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam laughed, surprised. “How?”

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Not, like the mechanics of it," Oliver clarified. "Just the story of how it happened."

From:

nola_cyclops

“It was with my high school girlfriend on the debate team. We were practising together at her house and her parents weren’t home.” Scott’s story had been different, obviously.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"How wholesome!" Oliver teased. "But do I need to go out and confront her about deflowering my future husband?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Future husband. Usually Oliver was the one ducking away from those kind of references. Sam glanced down at his hands, but he was beaming. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t have to do the deflowering?”

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Why would I be glad about it?" Oliver wasn't feeling jealous or anything, but it's not like he was thrilled Sam had slept with other people.

From:

nola_cyclops

“It would have made our first time a little more fraught,” Sam offered diplomatically.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"I mean, I like to think I would have been a little more, you know. Tender about it." If Sam had been a virgin, that is.

From:

nola_cyclops

“I wouldn’t change a single thing about it.” Not if it led them here.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Really? I'd change a lot. Like all the parts where I was horrible." He still hated himself a little for being such a dick after their first time.

From:

nola_cyclops

“That’s not what I remember when I think of it now.” He kissed Oliver’s cheek once, twice. “When I think of it now, I think of us both trying but not quite knowing what to do with each other, and with our feelings for each other. And I think of how far we’ve come together.”

From:

nola_quicksilver

"You didn't have feelings for me then," Oliver said, but he was obviously feeling soft right then, tracing Sam's bone structure with the tip of his finger.

From:

nola_cyclops

“A lot of my feelings started right there and then. I remember thinking that finally we were reaching each other. Starting to think that maybe we had something. It meant so much.” Sam was quiet, because he didn’t want to disturb Oliver’s finger.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Sam..." Oliver's finger trailed along Sam's mouth. "You believed in us so soon?" What an amazingly Scott thing to do, seeing into the heart of a vital matter like love.

From:

nola_cyclops

“I felt it. I believed in it after Valentine’s Day, but I was feeling it. I saw glimpses of the you I fell in love with.” Sam, and Scott, took love seriously, believed in its power sincerely.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver clutched Sam's shirt and hid his face in the crook of his neck. He was feeling too much right now. "You were so sweet to me. You touched me like I was worth something."

From:

nola_cyclops

“Oliver, you’re worth everything,” Sam murmured, stroking the back of Oliver’s head. “I don’t know who made you feel worthless, and I would destroy them if I did. To me, you’re unspeakably precious.”

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver raised his head to kiss Sam, warm, lingering. It was too complicated to explain that it was the result of hundreds of interactions as Oliver, and all self-directed as Pietro, who'd caused too much damage to the world to not hate himself, underneath all the arrogance.

From:

nola_cyclops

At some point, maybe, Sam would have to press Oliver into opening up a little more. He held back a lot of his pain, and Sam wanted to help. But for now, at least, he could kiss Oliver back, and make sure that the hands on him were loving hands.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver loved Sam's hands. He also loved his arms and his legs, his chin and cheek, and right now, most of all, his mouth. The kiss was deep but unhurried, the kind of making out he and Sam might have done in this room had they somehow met as teenagers. Oliver loved this too; they rarely took the time to just linger on kissing. They'd rushed into everything in their relationship right from the start, and had just never stopped.

From:

nola_cyclops

Scott had grown up in a mansion that didn’t exist in this reality. Sam had grown up in this exact room. Today, he and Oliver had kissed each other in both of those places, trading memories and histories. This relationship meant the world; it was maybe stronger than reality, because it transcended those blurred lines of history and identity. Scott genuinely believed he was done with love; Sam never expected to find it like this. It all meant that kissing the man he loved here and now was a luxury and a pleasure, and Sam wanted to live fully inside the moment. He held the back of Oliver’s neck like it was precious, because it was.