fletcher, fletchling. ah.

didn't take sam a minute to figure out. it wasn't an alias, it was a failsafe. it was something that knox did to keep himself hidden and grounded because of shady things the prescott family was involved in.

but what knox didn't know, was that where sam sat, in the mass of graves, at the peak of mt. pyre, on his fucking mountain... there were no sides. there was only one power there, and that was death. not rocket, not league. not good, not bad. just death, the final destination for all souls.

"at least you saw a fletchling, and not something else. fletcher's a good cover name."

sam's not playing at anything and he shows as much by setting aside his notebook and leaning forward, to look knox in the eyes.

"your life is your business, knox. you don't owe me anything. not an explanation, not a story... if you want to give me one as a friend, then i am willing to listen until my ears bleed."

because i've grown fond of you in ways i don't dare try and explain.

perhaps the silence and the look in sam's eyes speak for itself.

"and then, perhaps, i'll tell you my own stories... but for now, for the sake of business," he took the notebook and started to scribble over what he'd written, correcting the surname. "it's a pleasure to meet you mr. prescott."

knox prescott

...had he...had he caused knox to, to blush?

there is something like pride in sam. a warm and fuzzy sort of pride he's not sure he's ever felt. he liked seeing knox so comfortably flushed. it was, to sam, as if knox wasn't sure what to do with how sam was treating him. with kindness? or was it sam's openness?

unsure of what it was, sam decidedly didn't stop himself. he just continued to be himself. or perhaps he was just too tired form mt. chimney to keep up polite smiles and the charade of manners his mother instilled into him when doing business.

instead, it's a genuine smile that meets knox. a smile that sam wasn't sure he'd really given many. for it wasn't any old smile, it was a smile that started in sam's stomach as unfamiliar flutters and bubbled up into his lips with a quiver.

"you're most welcome, knox."

his name falls without effort, seamless and easy. knox makes sam feel less overwhelmed with the day and sam shows as much with how he relaxes.

"and, don't thank me just yet. i haven't even gotten your will fully written."

perhaps a bit of humor would lighten the blush from knox' cheeks... pity.

knox prescott

"@eden," sam mumbles the name while writing and then glances to the roster, setting it with his notes. he dates the paper, which he'll scan and add to the will virtually at a later time. "anything else to add? or just where your pokémon will go? if anything else is in your name, it will default to next of kin otherwise."

or storage in a locker, depending on his death, but sam kept that bit to himself.

he instead looked up and noticed that knox was still a bit flushed. was it warm? had he embarrassed knox in some way?

concerned it might be the temperature, he sets his notes down and turns enough to get the window beside the couch their sitting on open. he's got burns about his body, so a little breeze would do his own skin some good.

which i should likely see somebody about... his mind moves to Rory Faust, so he makes a note on the notebook he picks up in short hand reminding him to text rory and ask him how to tend to the wounds he'd gained.

knox prescott

"i think she's too well endowed to pull them off."

sam had, in fact, met Summer Atreides. they worked together to complete a task sanctioned to them by the league. he looked to knox, wondering if he knew that or not, finishing his shorthand after eye contact.

the little shocks? he's used to being mildly abused by pokémon. at least the shocks were a present thing. his ghosts usually just haunted his dreams and gave him goosebumps, odd feelings. while his dark types tended to bite him and leave marks.

"i'm... probably alright. with my own medical experience, i won't get infections, and with a bit of medicine i'll be able to sleep until i can manage to make an appointment and be see by a friend."

he set the notebook down and shrugged, a breath taken in slowly.

"as for business, you're all set. if you want to look over the details, you're more than welcome before you leave."

and since he hadn't given the notepad to knox just yet to look over, and instead leaned over enough to set them on the desk, he was pointedly saying he didn't want knox to leave yet.

knox prescott

the silence is something sam is comfortable with, but he's not a telepath and can nearly hear knox' thoughts vibrating in the air. like fuzz on a television with no signal. or static on a radio.

and for those silent moments, sam watches knox' movements closely. he looks to his eyes, from one to the other and then both. then, for some strange reason, he's finding himself looking at his lips, the curves of his jaw. then to his chin, and his collarbone.

as knox scoots closer, it's as if sam has jumped into an ice cold pool after a morning jog. his thoughts are cleared and he watches as knox puts his head in his hands. confusion rattles his brain.

the question is asked, but the tone seems ... confused? hesitant? no... anxious, he'd wager.

"at..." he looks at his clock. "eight thirty in the morning? no, i'm afraid dinner isn't possible."

sam raises a hand to put on knox' shoulder. just to sooth, to try and calm that anxiety. hopefully touch doesn't make knox' anxiety worse.

"but you can take me to breakfast."

knox prescott

"if we did, it'd be killer."

the extremely dark dad joke leaves his mouth before he can stop it and sam finds himself frowning at the line. it's awful. it's so bad, and then he's chuckling as he leans forward a bit to cover his mouth with his free hand.

"i'm so sorry, that-- i'm tired, i usually don't say those things out loud."

not that he didn't think them in general. oh no, he did. he usually just kept those thoughts to himself. it was the sense of humor that he and his gengar, alecto, had in common. a humor that most of the time had gotten him into fist fights. which was why he never really voiced it.

knox prescott

the laughter doesn't make sam feel embarrassed. because it isn't a pointed laugh. it isn't a laugh that says sam is an idiot or that is mocking him. it's laughter to be had with sam, and he does. he laughs alongside knox. though not as much and only because knox' laugh is something sam finds contagious.

after the arm is moved around his shoulder, sam leans into knox. he doesn't mind the close proximity. he never has. he's had plenty of people in his personal bubble. some by request, for a hug or for comfort, sometimes even support in physical situations. but other times not by request.


knox didn't smell and being surrounded by him was comforting. sam found he would request this kind of closeness from him, given the chance and thought.

"what would be the price i would have to pay, then?"

best to know what the consequences were before they switched topics.

knox prescott