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

"I remember. You were so good to me. The Sam part of me is better at being taken care of than the Scott side, I think. But it means everything to me that you try."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"So Scott wouldn't have let me try?"

From:

nola_cyclops

"He might have, but I think his pain threshold and mine are very different." He, I, it was all the same. "But now I'm both Scott and Sam, terrifying as it is, all I want is for you and me to take care of each other."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"We will," Oliver promised, and then he smiled a little. "Can you imagine Pietro feeding you Tylenol and sips of water? Making you chicken soup?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam grinned. "Absolutely not. But now I know his secret."

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Which is...?"

From:

nola_cyclops

"Pietro Maximoff would do anything for the select group of people he dearly loves. And he loves me so dearly."

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver's face softened. "Sam..." He brushed a kiss across his mouth. "...you're okay, I guess."

From:

nola_cyclops

“High praise.” But that kiss was lovely.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"I mean, you'll do." Oliver kissed him again.

From:

nola_cyclops

“I’ll do, that’s all?” Sam could kiss Oliver forever, so he answered that kiss with another.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"You meet my needs adequately." One more kiss.

From:

nola_cyclops

“That’s it, if we ever go back I’m making you join the Starjammers.” Adequately?! Still, he wasn’t going to not give him a kiss.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Aw, but then who'll take care of this for you?" He rocked their hips together and raised an eyebrow.

From:

nola_cyclops

“Of wh— oh.” Oh, that. No, he couldn’t be without that.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver's expression was incredibly smug. It was possible he'd never looked more like Pietro. "Want to rethink those space plans?"

From:

nola_cyclops

“You’re insufferable, Maximoff.” That was yes, in the language of Cyclops. Like it might distract from Oliver winning, Sam curled a hand around Oliver’s hip, pressing him down against Sam again.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver inhaled sharply. Oh, hi, this wasn't just joking anymore. He ground down a little, testing him. "I wouldn't allow it anyway."

From:

nola_cyclops

“You wouldn’t allow it?” Sam really wanted to sound wry, or something, but was he getting turned on all over again? Again?! His hold on Oliver tightened.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"I'm not being separated from you." He rolled his hips and quirked an eyebrow down at Sam. "And I have a feeling you're not joining the Starjammers."

From:

nola_cyclops

"I kind of just did." Well, the young, time-displaced Scott had. "But it's not really a long-term... oh, god." Yes, that was annoyingly good; Sam pushed up into it.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Wow, it's like I don't even know you." Oliver bit back a groan and planted a hand on either side of Sam's head so he had a little better balance as he started a slow, rolling rhythm. "But I'm still not leaving you."