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

"Of course." They would be there together, on another plane, in a place where the telepaths weren't bombarded by noise or the effort of keeping it out, and where Scott could share his whole self without agonizing over the words. Everyone said Scott was closed off, and he was, except with those he loved. "And I'm glad you think that. Because when we're like this, in the dark and naked and talking, all I want to do is keep this feeling." The intimacy of it. The world reduced to only the bed, only the two of them.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"You make me feel so good, Sam," Oliver murmured, looking down into his eyes. Eyes he might not always be able to see, but that was all right. Sam was so much more than that part of him. "And not just when we're naked."

From:

nola_cyclops

"Please tell me when I don't. I'll want to know." Don't hide your tears, Oliver, was the message here.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"I'll try," Oliver said. It was as honest as he could be.

From:

nola_cyclops

"Thank you. And you never have to stop asking questions of me. If there's something you want to know, I want you to know it." If Sam could make anything easier for Oliver, let it be that.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"You've set a dangerous precedent. I hope you're ready. And you can ask me anything too." Lord knew Oliver liked to talk.

From:

nola_cyclops

"I've never been more ready." Sam wasn't so much of a talker, but he would absolutely answer a question. "And I'll ask you things too, yes." Lucky Sam liked the sound of Oliver talking!

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Was this what you were starting to tell me, or is this another tangent?" Because they were excellent at those.

From:

nola_cyclops

"If it wasn't this, it was definitely something like this." Something about love and honesty.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Mm, okay." Oliver paused for a second before he asked, "Do you have a middle name, and if so, what is it?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam smiled. The question game was a cute one. "Nope, no middle names. Do you have one?"

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Yeah, Thomas." It was not especially interesting, especially when compared to Oliver and Lindqvist, but it was what he had.

From:

nola_cyclops

“Thomas. Oliver Thomas.” Yes, that would come in handy. “I like it.”

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver laughed a little. "Try introducing yourself as Oliver Thomas Lindqvist, but as a lisping kindergartener." School hadn't started off on the right foot for him, basically.

From:

nola_cyclops

“Oh my god. I would kill for that little boy with a very big name.” That was so cute!!

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Please don't!" Oliver said, laughing more now. "He needs to get out of childhood relatively unscarred so he can move away and find the love of his life."

From:

nola_cyclops

Yes. This was the one. This was the person. “Oh, now I have my next question. What did that boy, or that teenager, think the love of his life would be like?”

From:

nola_quicksilver

That took some thought. "I...guess I assumed I'd end up with a woman, because I didn't really—I was drawn to some of the boys, but it took me a little while to realize those were crushes too? So as a kid I thought I'd meet a girl who was pretty and fun and wanted to have adventures, and we'd get married."

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam smiled. Swing and a miss. “I guess I at least think adventures are exciting in theory?” Also he was a superhero and didn’t know how to live his life without adventure. “What about older, wiser, Oliver? What did he want?”

From:

nola_quicksilver

"As a teenager I thought everyone I had a crush on was going to be my soul mate. Then for a while I thought I might never meet anyone, and pretended to be okay with it. And then I met you." He ran his hand into Sam's hair, kept it there. "And I finally understood what an adventure was."

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam closed his eyes and smiled, enjoying the touch, committing the sensation to memory. "Four words I'll never forget: 'You're my big adventure, okay?'"