all of it as in, like, at least a couple minutes out of the seven spent in heaven. at least a covert kiss, a blush between temporaries, anything vaguely resembling attraction. and knox doesn't know whether to not believe him or to be incredibly flattered. his confidence tells him that, yeah, of course that makes sense - of all people, of course it'd be him. he's godsdamn irresistible. 

his brows furrow. but the more sam talks, the more, surprisingly, knox understands. 

he scrunches himself up to a seated position, rolls his neck to the side. and then he stands. now that he's dry, he tries to rub off some of the glitter - to no avail. so he gives up and goes to sit on his bed. 

he pats the spot beside him. "first thing's first: if you were, are, ace, it doesn't mean you're broken. so get that straight people shit out of here."

he waits until sam sits down to take his hand, and then he says, "and i think that's beautiful.

"it took me a while to figure it out," he says with a shrug. "i've always liked people; it just took me too long to realize i don't like everyone sharing my bed." 

he sighs. "sex is . . . important to me though. and it's why i don't like commitment labels. gods, compared to you, that makes me sound like a superficial asshole." and then he frowns. "but if, when, we do share that and if it's not for you, be honest with me. we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

and just like that all his ifs have turned to whens. turns out talking things through is helpful. who would have thought?

samuel carter

☉

as knox stood sam found himself standing as well. like a frenzy. because what if he'd said too much and knox was going to leave again?

but he doesn't. he sits, invites sam to sit, and when sam does sit he takes sam's hand and anchors him. pushes all of his anxieties away. makes him feel normal, not broken. not like a robot, or a hollow husk. he's not a ghost with knox.

a smile forms. the ifs turning to whens. it'll happen, he has confidence now, in these moments, that knox won't just abandon him. he might create distance for a time, to think, but sam maybe foolishly allows himself to believe that knox will come back to him eventually.

because he refuses to cage him, no labels, nothing.

"i enjoy kissing you... it made me feel good. i didn't feel like i was the wallpaper anymore, i felt like i was present, in the room."

he wasn't sure how to explain it, really.

"i've researched every label and the best i can come up with is greysexual. i have plenty of friends i'm close to that i don't want to kiss. i have plenty of attractive people in my life that are actually superficial and easily accessible and i have no desire to be with them."

his eyes trail to their hands, thumb gliding over knuckles, smile forming on his features.

"but you? i can't stop thinking about it. i've wanted to kiss you since we watched the stars on the mountain...i've neer thought about that with anybody else."

in other words, it was definitely a when, not an if.

knox prescott

well, at least he won't have anything to compare it to, but even that has its drawbacks. because knox knows he's a fucking amazing lay, but what if sam can't tell because he's never had it done badly with anyone else? does that mean you want him to have shitty sex??? with someone else?

"for the record, i also enjoyed kissing you. like, i really liked it." and i feel real fuckin' dumb not doing so right now. 

"well, whatever it is, it's you." that's one thing he actually hasn't written off, though - being people's experiments. fuck, he's had homophobes in his bed before, whispering in his ear 'i'm not fucking gay' as they plow him from behind (ok, bud). 

he listens to sam talk about his first wanting and knox thinks yeah, i almost kissed ya then, but he doesn't say it. he just lets that happiness roll over him - that they were on the same wavelength, that sam probably wouldn't have turned away if he'd just done it. 

no, he just turns, and he kisses sam's cheek, and the corner of his mouth again, and teethes gently at his bottom lip. "i thought about this," he whispers.

samuel carter

☉

what a rollercoaster of emotions and feelings it had been. feelings that he'd never had. emotions that were also new. and it wasn't the drugs or the alcohol in his system, it was just knox.

his knox.

and each kiss has sam feeling further and further away from the fear that he'll end up alone again. instead, he moves his free hand to knox' neck, slowly caressing the soft skin there, enjoying the way knox' teeth feel against his skin. he smiles, enjoying how it feels, eyes half open as he watches the movements as well as he can at such a close distance.

he's read or seen enough, he figures, that as long as knox doesn't tell him to stop he'll be fine. so he turns his head to get a better angle and takes knox' lips with his own.

he wants knox, in every way, and he doesn't even care if it's not anything more than making out. and feeling how knox' muscles feel beneath his fingertips.

knox prescott

and think about this he had - more than that first night, for sure. even when sam's figure was still just a blur of unfamiliarity in his head, when he was still inviting men to his motels, going home with them for a bed to sleep in. but their happenstance meeting, all this time spent texting in between, and he's felt weird trying to pick up other guys.

the party had been a selfish invite because knox knows how fucked-up knox likes to end his nights, and he'd wanted to end it just like that with him. 

oh, so now you're working, he thinks to his crotch as sam touches that turn-on spot on his neck and sends shiver down his spine. he twists his hips, lifts his leg so he can straddle sam's waist. 

he forces sam's lips apart again and explores his mouth in earnest; tasting him only make him want him more. his fingers knot in his hair, tugging, as his shoulders dip and he leans into him.

samuel carter

☉

the same can be said for sam's crotch. he's hovering over knox and giving him kisses, but with the way knox moves and rotates, sam finds himself leaning onto his forearm and allowing his weight to fall on knox, but mostly the bed.

he's fit enough he won't tire too soon. which is good, because he's learning. making an internal map of knox' mouth and body. the hand on his neck explores, moving along his chest, his ribs. each curve and dip of knox' body is beneath his fingertips, as much as that hand can reach.

all while repaying each kiss, eagerly, and sometimes playfully. like a purposed 'pop' here or a pull on a lip there.

he's having fun, his body language shows as much, and every once in a while when knox hit's a spot just right his eyes roll closed and he has to take a deep breath to try and ground himself, or he'll get carried away.

and he's not sure if they're just making out or if he's allowed to get carried away. but he really likes the way knox feels on his skin, so he's determined not to blow it.

knox prescott

of course the boy's a fucking natural. sam meets him more than halfway, with an enthusiasm that makes knox's cheeks flush. his stomach pulls in, breath going shallow as sam's hands lower. everything is pointing to yes, because he forgets where he is and completely leans into this desire he's been holding back. 

their teeth click together with the tussling nature of their messing around. knox slips a grin against his lips, breaking their kiss in the process. his hands make their way down sam's sides - they follow the path of his tattoos until he circles to the side of his hips.

knox's own move on their own accord and he's cursing the layers between them, but it's also so fucking hot that he doesn't mind. underneath that smell of the salt-water pool, he can smell sam. and it's sam in his nose and sam in his mouth and sam all over his skin and he never wants it to stop. 

samuel carter

☉

truthfully it feels good enough with the clothes on that sam's not even thinking about the clothes. he's too busy focused on the way knox feels and smells, the way he tastes and how his hips are moving. sam's whole body is on fire and he's sober, he's stone cold sober.

it was the scare of emotions and feelings that sobered him and it's knox that inaborates him now. he's sinking in the sea of their motions and he doesn't want air.

the motion encourages his own. timid at first, because it's new, because he's paranoid he'll do it wrong. but then he can feel why knox had began the motion and he was furrowing his brow, mouth open, breaths heavy. the broken kiss allowed him the ability to breath while the motions of their hips was simultaneously stealing the breath from his lungs.

soft, audible breathing left him, mouth half open. one hand migrated to the lower back of the one beneath him while the other moved into that mess of glitter and color atop his head. not pulling, just to caress his head, softly, with purpose.

knox prescott

there is an elastic feeling coiling at his navel and he chases it with a fervor, spurred by sam's hot breath in his ear, tangled in his hair. minutes go on for hours and the rainbow washes over them and knox realizes it's not the act itself he's been starving for during his abstinence; it's this knotting of arms and legs and feeling like he's more than himself. 

i want to see more of you, sam. i want to listen to you breathe my name and feel you claw into my back and i want you to be mine - all mine. 

he wants to say as much, but his mouth has gone dry. and suddenly the vertigo hits him. his body's needs break through his desires and he stops suddenly, pitches sideways and falls on his shoulder. 

he keeps his eyes open like a pro, fixated on the biggest glow-in-the-dark star on the ceiling (which is his 'you're super fucked up right now and the room is spinning and i'm the anchor') star. he thinks hey, old friend. meet sam, while he pinches the bridge of his nose and waves to his nightstand. 

"fuck, sam. sorry. it's - comedown's hitting me hard." he smiles weakly. "haven't done this in a while. be a dear and grab the pill box in the drawer?" there's a water bottle, unopened, still slightly chilled, waiting for him. (more of marcus' doing.)

"the box. not the bottles. box has all my vitamins." 

samuel carter

☉

of all the things sam had been expecting, knox rolling onto his side and groaning about the need for a box wasn't one of them. his brain was in a haze, confused, a little love-drunk.

"uh... right, yeah. hang on."

he's pulling himself together and trying to do the mental equivalent of a cold shower to right his brain so he can do as knox asked him, mumbling the words to himself.

"not the bottles. box. vitamins."

the contents of the drawer are curious. he glances them over after he retrieves the box and hands it to knox. he sits up enough for knox to sit up, but not enough to not go snooping in the drawer. because his eye are on the condoms. he picks one up and flips it over, reading the instructions like a tween.

he's not sure if he needs one. does he? they're both men-- nobody can get pregnant, but it's more than that, isn't it?

he wasn't sure, his mother's extent of the birds and the bees was him correcting her about several statistics she misquoted and had literally nothing to do with same sex intercourse. just ended with,

'well it sounds like you've got it covered i'll just keep to myself then!'

"do you need anything else? also, these are expired." he fingers through the contents of the drawer, save an old pair of boxers? because he's not sure about those...

knox prescott

and here it is, folks. this is why knox's whores don't stay with him past the morn. usually he lasts a lot longer, and usually he's sated them at least somewhat, but the dreary end of the night can only spell a disaster in the morning, and who wants to live that when they can leave with memories of ecstasy unblighted? 

knox finally gets his bile to settle back in his stomach (pulling through like a fucking champion) and grabs a pillow, shoving it behind his head so he can prop himself up. he takes the box and opens three of the compartments, sliding the supplements for acid, liquor, and coke into his hand. 

a supplement a day keeps the doctor away. 

he knocks them back with a painful swallow and wedges the water bottle in the crook of his arm. and then he watches sam, chuckling when he sees him pouring over the condom like there's a whole damn book on the back. 

"more condoms, apparently," he quips. "haven't used 'em so i wouldn't know." he looks thoughtful for a stint. "although guess i should've been a bit more prepared, knowing you'd be coming.

"granted, that's a moot point now for several reasons." because knox got tested recently and he's clean as a whistle and sam's already made it clear he hasn't gotten cooties from anyone. 

he sighs, traces an idle fingers on sam's thigh. "mm, i am sorry. it was nice. you're nice."

samuel carter

☉

well, since he doesn't use them anyway sam begins collecting them like a squirrel in hibernation. he glances around until he finds the closest trash bin, then he drops the expired condoms in. because he'd rather somebody didn't use one than to use an expired one and some disaster happens.

namely he's a smidge ocd, it's fine.

knox' hand on his thigh feels nice and he shows as much with a smile. his skin tingles, like fire and ice across his senses all over again. goosebumps ripple his flesh, he takes a breath to ground himself, then shifts to sit beside knox.

"why are you apologizing? i'm still enjoying your company."

sure, nearly getting thrown up on wasn't super great, but he understood. he also understood his tongue in knox' throat was the last thing knox wanted.

"did you want to turn on a movie? or do you read? i can get your book for you, or movie started if you want. should you try and eat something?"

the process is all very new for him, clearly.

knox prescott

if sam wants to clean up his messes, then he's more than welcome to. he doesn't have the heart to remind him that come morning, the ban on his own household is going to be lifted again. technically, it isn't, and if his father found out he were here, he'd get strangled by his bare hands. 

"you seemed to be enjoying it then, too," he says with a smirk, fingers ghosting off his thigh and in between his legs instead. but then he pulls back just as quickly. 

at the mention of food, knox grimaces. but then he laughs, screws the cap of his water back on so he can properly lay on his side and face sam. "shush. this is all i want right now. you're enough."

samuel carter

☉