technically, he's still recovering. so he managed to make a makeshift shirt with a back opening for the date. the once grunge band t-shirt had the back cut in a way that had little fabric along his shoulders and neck to help the fresh bit of ointment breathe and help with healing.

the lack of sleeves helped to show off more of the burns, more of his tattoos. he had his phone in his hand, having googled what 'nvm' meant and as he went to text back, he was at the square, and he could see knox.

and boy did he smile. shoving the phone into his pocket, he walked toward him. partnered with the sleeveless, custom cut, t-shirt is a pair of modern parachute pants-- his favorite. light, relaxing. it's what he wears aside from activewear, so.

"hey. i hope you didn't wait long."

knox prescott

the seaside air is actually a little chilly. he'd forgotten that lilycove's fall season began just a bit earlier than most with the water so near, so he's thankful he'd donned a hoodie (even if it had been to look nondescript and to cover his face). the hood is down now and he's toying with the tassels when sam nears him. 

he didn't think he'd lie about the sleeveless shirt, but seeing it on him is another thing. knox has certainly sized the boy up in their time together, but it's really now that he notices sam's muscles. 

unabashedly and shamelessly, he reaches out to touch them. (he's careful to avoid his burns, of course.) "we look like a couple of movie stars," he says. with his three-day-old eyeliner, smoked and faded around his eyes, and a touch of glittery mascara, next to the boy with his casual pants and grunge shirt, they look more like members of a washed-up rock band. 

still hot, but nonetheless. 

"okay. it's not breakfast, but i think you're gonna like it," he says.

samuel carter

☉

"in your company i would enjoy eating paper."

if it's cute, it's cute. if it's weird, it's weird. sam is just saying things because he's so excited to be near knox. he glances at knox' hand, but restrains himself from taking it. because he's not sure where he stands or what his boundaries are. he's going to let knox decide, because he's not sure.

and for the first time in his life he's being timid about something. he's not just opening his mouth and saying whatever's on his mind. because he's not comfortable enough it won't scare knox away.

knox prescott

"i'm flattered," knox says with a laugh. he's not dumb. he knows how these walks go, what the language between them means. the tension is there and he knows that glance, and it's so goddamn cute that knox just starts chuckling. 

"relax," he says and brushes their hands together. "we're on a date, sam." he wiggles his fingers and then curls them around sam's bicep, pulling him close. "you can hold my hands if you want to. you probably should, honestly, 'cause they tend to wander otherwise." 

he winks as they walk down the street, arm in arm, thinking nothing more than the fact that he's just happy to be there. and also if sam would really eat paper for him. 

he leads him to a lovely seaside restaurant right on the water. there's a table waiting for them, of course. he hadn't been able to do anything ridiculous like get flowers set up, although he would have had he had time, just to see sam's face. 

but it's still a lovely set-up and they look completely out of place, but knox wouldn't have it any other way. 

"so aside from breakfast," knox asks as he pulls out sam's chair and then seats himself, "what do you eat?"

samuel carter

☉

the fact that knox had pulled sam's chair out has sam smiling. it was cute, this whole thing was cute, and knox had put in a lot of effort to spend time with him. that made sam so unbelievably happy he couldn't barely sit still. he shimmed several times into his chair before knox spoke and caused him to settle.

"i like italian food, pastas, breads. i'm not terribly picky, i don't care for fish, but i like crustaceans. and mollusks."

the thought of holding knox' hand causes his own to twitch within his lap. he's interested in trying it, maybe when they leave the table...

knox prescott

well, he's glad he didn't go with the seafood place. granted, he's starting to think that sam would've eaten anything he'd ordered with a grin on his face. which is crazy. that's a crazy thing for someone to do. because knox certainly wouldn't. 

"well, at least we can agree on that. anyone who doesn't like bread is an idiot." he's had his share of exotic foods, gourmet dishes, but there's just something so homey about fresh baked bread. he often thinks, when getting his hands on some, that maybe he'd like to be a baker. 

and then the bread gets eaten, the thought is gone, and he's back to the same old routine. 

the server comes over; she's a small little thing, who obviously has some reservations about the out-of-place boys, one of which is grinning at her like he's won the lottery. "how are you gentlemen tonight?"

knox waves a hand with a laugh. "he's the only gentleman here, my dear. what's your name?"

"marcy?"

"marcy, we're gonna make this easy for you. we'll take the risotta alla almia, the truffle bistecca, oh, sorry, yep, take your time. mhm, the bistecca, and how about the ribollita to start? and a bread basket, if you have them."

"anything else?" she asks, straining as she writes it all down.

"a couple bottles of wine of whatever you think pairs best, and your favorite bottle on the menu. and after that, don't worry about anything but dropping the dessert menu. we'll be staying quite a while because i'm a selfish man and would like to keep this man as long as i can." 

she flushes. "o-okay," she says. he can see she wants to smile, maybe even laugh, but she scurries off to get their order started. 

knox lays his napkin across his lap. old habits die hard. and then he puts his elbows on the table, props his chin in his hands, and grins at the boy across from him. 

"i dare not trust another with my road," knox says, quoting some of sam's first words to him, some of the only words he remembers from that night. the rest of the memories are electricity, flashing images filled with feeling and belonging and a place in the stars.

"you still think there's not enough room for someone else?"

samuel carter

☉

as knox orders what felt like the entire menu sam furrows his brows in mild confusion. it's only has knox turns to look at him in a way he's not sure he's ever appreciated from another human being that sam wonders exactly what it was he did to deserve a falling star as stunning as knox prescott.

there are flaws in him, he knows this. knox randomly left his room for a reason. but sam pointedly lives in the present. because of this, he often purposes not to think about people's pasts. tries not to judge them to harshly based on things that happened. he instead focuses on what they choose to do with the time they're living through.

what choices they make, that's what shows the type of person they are.

but knox never makes the same move twice, it seemed. or so, that was sam's hope. with the way he orders the entire menu and then quotes sam back to himself, eidetic memory coming in clutch, sam finds himself smiling in a way he didn't realize he could when looking at anybody but his mother or another pokémon; and even then, it's different.

fondly; but reserved just for knox.

"suppose there is plenty of room if i bring them along my road on my back or shoulders."

knox prescott

"won't that get tiring?" he says. in the short midst of their discussion, marcy has gathered their wine glasses and brought the wine to the table. she presents a bottle of both white and red, and a third - a new world bordeaux blend (not that knox understands any of what it means) - and when she goes to open it, knox holds up a hand. 

"ah, just add it to the bill and take it home with yourself. please." he winks and she attempts to argue; after some back and forth, she finally relents, looking sheepish, but less like this table is going to ruin my fucking night, isn't it? 

and when she's gone, promising that their first course is on the way, knox is reabsorbed back into his conversation with sam. 

"granted, you really are so fit. i noticed on the mountain, obviously, but it was dark and i was tripping, and you weren't wearing this beautiful sleeveless creation. what do you do? crossfit? a thousand push-ups a day? sell your soul to a demon?" 

he narrows his eyes. "you're not, like, one of those avatars, right?"

samuel carter

☉

the mention of how fit he is as sam glancing at his shoulders, then up and at knox. is he fit? knox says he is, so he supposes that he is fit. mental note: fit.

when asked what he does, he furrows his brows in thought.

"i jog every morning, walk the mountain during the day, and dig graves..."

well that got dark quick but he reserves to the notion that knox won't take the fact that he digs the graves himself as something that is odd. after all, least he could do for those who had lived and were now dead was use his own hands to dig the graves.

that and he's a perfectionist, but, shh.

knox prescott

"who knew working with the dead for a living gets you absolutely shredded?" knox says. he almost wants to pitch the idea that sam could open a crossfit studio or something; just tell a bunch of people to dig graves and they'd do it for him. but he decides not to because that's his and sam's mountain, and the more people, the more he has to share. and also sam probably wouldn't like the idea. 

but still, a good idea. 

"i always liked swimming more than anything else. though i maybe would've liked it more if i didn't grow up in a city." he blinks. "where are you from, by the way? you don't sound hoennian, but you're also kinda a shut-in so."

samuel carter

☉

the notion of him 'also kind of being a shut-in' has sam smirking. he is definitely an old hermit, his mother had always said as much. he's reminded then to call her, but he'll do it later, she'll understand. hopefully she won't worry he's died... which, knowing her, the second the news reaches hoenn she'll be lighting up his phone with text messages and voicemails.

"i'm from lavender town in kanto. my mother and i have run the pokémon tower my whole life. when mr. dom pey was returning here in hoenn, he requested i take over for him if interested-- we'd done some work with him in the past and he rather liked how we conducted things. similarly to himself, yet more 'modern.'"

dom pey hated technology, which was fine. sam didn't much care for it either, but it made the job more accessible to the public and encouraged people to reach out while grieving. better to talk to a piece of technology instead of talking to another human being... he understood that all too well.

knox prescott

the top floors of the pokemon towers. he remembers him saying so, because he'd thought about what the top floor was, if he'd ever get there, if he'd ever been there. or was there ever a glass ceiling, and had he shattered it before he'd known what it was? surrounded by such abstraction, the memory is a distant one, but it's there nonetheless, and he's annoyed with himself for not making the connection sooner.

"d'you ever miss it? kanto?" he'd never been. summer had been privy to all sorts of business trips with their father, but knox had always drawn the shortest straw. 

not that he minded.

samuel carter

☉

"i miss... the chaos."

while most wouldn't say so, most would say hoenn was a breath of fresh air aside from the freak accidents and rocket invasion.

"going from a place of war, to a place of mock peace, and now to hoenn where there is war beneath the surface... it's odd, and i was culture shocked for a bit. i might still suffer a bit of it. it's why i busy myself on the mountain and rarely come to town except on business trips.

"it hasn't been an easy adjustment."

as he finishes, he reaches up to take a sip of his water, shrugging his shoulders.

"mt. pyre has its charms, as does hoenn. if i hadn't come here, i would have never met you. that, i would truly regret."

you've been hit by, you've been struck by, a smooth criminal.

knox prescott