"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

☉

as he enters the kitchen he opens his cabinets and waves toward the fridge behind him.

"pancakes, eggs, bacon, cereal, oatmeal, cream of wheat."

everything one could think of for breakfast, sam has the ingredients for. why?

"i like breakfast foods."

the views are the same he sees every day. so when he turns to look at knox to listen for his reply, he's caught looking at the only new thing in the room. knox himself.

and oddly enough, it's only then that he realizes just how much he likes the way the boy looks... huh.

knox prescott

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

☉

like what you see?

so the really bizarre thing was that sam wanted to answer with, i do, yeah. but he didn't get the chance, so he didn't. instead, he soaked in the thought that he did in fact like what he saw. but why? what about knox made sam like what he saw?

was he just a carbon copy of his mother and needed something to fix?

no... no, there was nothing wrong with knox, not that sam could tell. he just liked having knox around. knox made him feel like he could exist without consequence.

the story about getting kicked out and him nearly burning the house down had sam smiling. he nodded slowly, glancing knox' way as he ruffled his hair.

reaching over, he fixed knox' hair, just a few of the pieces that stuck up oddly, while waiting for the food to cook for a moment.

"i don't mind cooking, and i'd rather cook than deal with people that aren't you right now."

knox prescott

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

☉

as knox' face falls to be hidden, head on the table, sam resists the urge to touch the back of his head. why was that an urge?

it's not like he's never liked somebody before, it's just that physical attraction wasn't something he ever allowed himself to deal with. he'd been romantically involved with nobody, not ever, because he'd been too busy working or people were pricks and only wanted to shag him and leave. but knox, getting to know him, it was nice.

and he'd even at this point allow the shag and leave, and allow the heartbreak-- but that's what stops him. he won't allow himself to be ruled by desire and instead he puts his hand to use making their breakfast instead.

"thanks," in reference to the food smelling good. "and... a party?"

the idea of a party makes sam feel a bit queasy, or maybe he's just hungry and tired.

"i mean, i wouldn't mind seeing your house. you've seen mine, feels fair."

he doesn't deny the invitation, and instead, accepts it. "just send me a time and date, i'll be there."

knox prescott

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

☉

"i'll just walking shirtless. i've got enough tattoos to look ridiculous in any setting."

99.999999999% of why he got his tattoos was so that people who weren't worth his time would leave him alone, avoid talking to him because of his tattoos. it worked out well so far.

"i like the theme choice," but he knew knox knew that. they'd spent their first time in each other's company beneath a blanket of stars on the mountain side. "by the way."

he set down the bacon, eggs, and hashbrowns he'd made for knox, then got the ketchup, salt, and pepper and set it beside his own plate of the same. he got himself a glass down.

"i'm just going to have water, do you want juice? i have a variety."

knox prescott

"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

☉

the shirtless comment made sam roll his eyes and blush a bit. he got knox some water as well and took a seat finally, sitting beside him.

it was followed by mention that sam had been inspiration and for whatever reason, that had been possibly the nicest thing anybody had ever said to him. that he was muse enough to be inspiration for something. even if it was just a party.

so he smiled, took a forkful himself of his eggs and hash that he'd mixed a bit, then started to add salt. right about the time knox started mumbling praise about the breakfast.

"...is it?" it had smelled pretty mediocre to him. perhaps it was placebo that made it taste so good for knox. sam took a bite, then made a face as he took a drink. "tastes the same as when i always make it, but i'm glad you are enjoying it..."

though with how he was scarfing sam had to wonder if he fed himself ever. unusual, how he was smiling at the boy across from him, before taking another bite and finally forcing his eyes away from knox to focus on the food.

knox prescott

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

☉

"how i treat a client isn't based on their looks," sam begins, taking knox' words literally because he's absent minded and a little tired. "i treat everybody the same in my business."

then it hits sam and he decides to fix the foot he just shoved half way down his throat.

"with that being said, this is not business." he tapped his plate, then waved a finger between the both of them.

"this is--" well if it's not business then it's that other thing. "pleasure."

was that too bold? did he mean that? well he did mean it, but he wasn't sure if it was too bold. and damn was he nervous it might have been.

knox prescott

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

☉