"would i haunt you?" he says incredulously. on their way to wherever sam is taking them, they walk by an open area with floor-to ceiling windows. the view is breathtaking. now that dawn has had a chance to break, the sun has evaporated a decent amount of fog, but there's still a white sheen over the trees that flourish on its descent. 

"only if it kills me," he says, albeit a bit more softly. 

as unappetizing as a small kitchen sounds (he can't remember the last time he's made food for himself), he can't say no. not with a view like this.

and not with how fucking exhausted and beat up sam looks. no, he can swallow his pride for one day and enjoy what will probably be a terrible breakfast with some wonderful, vexing company.

samuel carter

☉

he usually skips breakfast and instead, gets his energy from the nearest upper wherever he wakes up. but as sam goes to rattle off a list of food, his stomach grumbles. he's made one (1) of the things off of the list himself and if sam thinks knox is about to whip out some impressive culinary skills, he has another thing coming.

"i make a mean bowl of cereal," he says, turning to find sam just kind of...looking at him. he raises a brow. "like what ya see?" 

he looks at the pans and the cooktop and the mixing bowls and everything in this kitchen that could possibly help him to succeed, and instead he grabs a seat, telling himself he'll buy sam a fancy dinner some other time to make up for it. 

"i nearly burned our house down trying to cook eggs once. if summer hadn't kicked my ass, the maid would've." he snorts. "so unless you're pining for some cereal, i can't be of much help."

he ruffles his hair. "sure you don't want me to take you somewhere?"

samuel carter

☉

i'd rather cook than deal with people that aren't you right now. that and sam's gentle hands smoothing down his hair does it. there goes knox! tripping head over heels and falling in love with the next boy who dares show him a shred of decency and affection. 

he doesn't want to. really, he doesn't, but his love comes easy and it comes freely. the only thing standing in his way now is that stupid, incessant word in his head: different. don't do the knox thing and wring him out so you have to hang him up to dry while you keep splashing about. 

he drops his chin on his hands, elbows crooked on the table to keep him up, and he smiles dumbly. "i'm throwing a party soon. restraining order against my house has been lifted," he jokes, simultaneously thinking wait, fuck, you dumb shit - don't let him see that knox! 

but the party'll be all the more fun with sam there 'cause knox knows that's all he'll be thinking about when he's fucked up and spinning. and no sense ruining his buzz before it can even start. 

he sniffs. "smells good."

samuel carter

☉

he doesn't even have to get the words out. sam accepts the invitation before knox can properly offer it - which works just fine for him. he'd been positive he'd have to ask at least a few times to get the mountain shut-in to go to something as dastardly as a party. 

(perhaps he should warn him what a prescott party is like.) 

but he doesn't, and it might make him a bad person, but he's 1,000% selfish and isn't going to risk sam changing his mind. 

"what is this - a little 'i show you mine, you show me yours?'" he stretches. can't sit still for too long. "theme's space. i encourage you to show up looking ridiculous. summer'll have her way with you if you don't."

samuel carter

☉

"shirtless? if i'd known all it takes is a party to make that happen, i'd've planned one sooner." the words come easy out of his mouth, but he's no longer afraid of taking it a little too far. 'cause sam's already picked up what he's been putting down and knox responds quite well to positive reinforcement. 

he grins devilishly. "well, someone may have inspired it." yes, it's no coincidence that right after running into him again, knox had seen it as a sign from the heavens above and demanded something be done about it. all it took were a few drinks and some of summer's more agreeable company to make him realize he could make something spectacular happen.

"water's fine," he chirps, eager to dive into the meal set before him. his maids are exquisite cooks in their own right, but he can't say anyone's ever made a home-cooked meal for him. 

things taste different when there's a little bit of love involved. that's a saying, right?

he doesn't wait. he grabs a forkful of the hash browns and bites down. they're salty and buttery and have just enough crunch to make his eyes water. with his mouth still full, he mumbles, "ohmyfuckinhod, isso good."

samuel carter

☉

he doesn't respond, not verbally at least. the enthusiasm with which he eats just tells sam how good it tastes. and maybe it doesn't actually taste that good. maybe it's because he can't remember the last time he's eaten, really eaten since getting kicked to the curb and left to fend for himself.

by the time he's polished off the meal, sam's barely made it halfway through. his stomach actually hurts a bit from the amount of food he's inhaled, but it's a discomfort he can deal with. the taste that lingers in his mouth is worth it. 

"so," he says, "every pretty client that comes your way get the same treatment?"

samuel carter

☉

knox doesn't peg him as a man-whore like himself, but still, he's curious to know if sam has a side he hasn't shown yet. one behind the curtains, so to speak. and at first he thinks he's getting shut down, in a gentle not your business sort of way, which would have hurt, but then sam recovers. 

he wants to banter back, say the 'pleasure is all mine' or something just as cheesy, but sam looks exhausted. and he really must be, if what he'd said back at his office was true.

"i've heard it's hotter when you mix 'em both," he says and drains the rest of his water. 

"i'm glad we got the will outta the way though. now that you've been fed, you should shower and sleep off whatever happened." he waves to the dirty dishes. "i'll clean these and let myself out. least i can do."

samuel carter

☉