he sinks into all that color and sound. as the last of the sun slips behind the horizon and darkness befalls them like a blanket. it's here, now, in this semi-darkness, that he realizes how familiar the body is beneath him. his hands curve knowingly over sam's muscles. his lips move rhythmically, hypnotizingly against his own. 

this is what it means to know someone, he thinks. and a thrill goes through him. 

"i'm glad i waited," he says suddenly, half mumbling against his lips. "i wasn't meant to kiss you then." he kisses behind his ear, that patch of skin he loves so much, where sam's hair tickles his nose and sam's jaw just brushes against him. "i think maybe i just knew i was meant to kiss you now." 

he speaks in body language. he speaks in signs. he speaks in star-addled eyes and euphoric wiles. or, he did. but this knox, him, real or mirage or a fever dream, has words welling in his heart and he refuses to bottle them up any longer. 

his lips graze sam's shoulders, his collarbone. "this will be the most important thing i ever do," he whispers. "i'll take you, sam carter. all of you. and i'll give myself in return."

☉

do you believe in fate? star crossed lovers and all that romantic shit?

fate...perhaps. star crossed lovers? undoubtedly.

words they said to one another at a restaurant shortly after knox fled from himself. that's what sam realizes now. each time knox was running, it wasn't exactly from sam, it was from himself. sam happened to be the one who drew knox' self to the surface, it was why he would panic.

but now, they are melting into each other. they're accepting each other through body language. it's not sam's first language, but, he's learning and adapting to it. a quick study, thankfully, means he's learning to keep up with knox.

movements of his tongue and his lips, his hands along familiar curves and dips. shifts of his hips, bending of his knees to feel knox more closely, or to rotate his hips just right.

all while knox speaks sweet things to him and leaves him panting, wanting, aching.

"so long as you never stop taking, i'll never stop giving." he breathed, paranoia being pushed down, dashed away into the recesses of his mind.

but what if after this, he's done with you and casts you aside? then it will have been worth the moments i had.

and so he wills himself to remember these moments. the moments with knox, the promises. all of him to all of knox.

"there's--" he shifts, hand swatting at the bag as he turns to look. "it was part of the surprise, i have--" one of what they'd bought a few days ago goes tumbling out of the bag and he holds it up, sighing in relief.

knox prescott

sam's breath is on his hair. sam's hips are pressed against his. sam wants him, as he is, and right now, while they're doused in a rainbow of color, that is more than enough for knox. he is back in that moment of euphoria on the mountain, an indescribable want inside of him, and he is also here, flaring it, coaxing it, riding off of it.

he is lost in his own kissing. he travels familiar routes, the ones he knows sam likes. he leaves smatterings, folded love notes from pursed lips. his hot, shallow breaths speak his want.

sam jostles him and he withdraws, bleary-eyed, a little fuzzy. "what?" his brows furrow. in the semi-darkness it's hard to see; as his fingers touch the bottle, he realizes what it is and he laughs. then it was true, his premonition.

and how perfect it is now.

he kisses sam sweetly. the bottle rolls out of his hands and makes a noise that startles him. distracted, he reaches for whatever it hit and finds his phone tucked under sam's hip. 

he makes a face, drops his weight onto sam's chest, and then makes a show of turning his phone off and chucking it into the grass several feet away. 

"we will not be interrupted again," he growls.

his eyes glitter as he sits up, straddling sam's hips, one hand gently stroking, teasing him through the last layer of clothing that separates them. he takes the bottle and pops the top, and then pauses, and his features soften. 

"tell me what you want, my love. i'll have you any way i can."

samuel carter

☉

the brightness of the screen causes sam to wince. it's sweet and sam shows as much with gentle kisses and a smile. barely lit enough to see by the dim light of his umbreon's blue shining rings.

he can still feel hot and shallow breaths along his skin. he has always been sensitive with each sense. usually it bothers him, causes him to withdraw, move away. but with knox he just finds that he's happy he has these sensitivities. because it means he can feel more.

and feel more he does. knox is an expert and sam is panting and wanting. it's clear when knox moves against him, crystal clear.

so as knox sits up and calls sam my love, sam finds himself stunned. shocked. yes, they had said i love you. yes, they had said i see you. but this is something else. this is possession of love and sam recognizes it for what it is to them.

it's acceptance on an intimate level.

"i want it all." sam admits, not caring how selfish that sounds, or greedy. "but start with what feels right."

he mimic's knox' movements, reflects them against knox, remembers how he'd moved his hand before and gotten knox so close, and he attempts to replicate that as well as he can through fabric.

knox prescott

SPOILER: Click to show

🍆

i haven't felt this way before. knox's arms tighten. a smile graces his lips. his brain is still buzzing, thoughts still swimming, reliving as much as he can of those moments as the pleasure fades into quiet intimacy. and he realizes something profound. 

"i haven't either," he whispers. it's not a line and it's not a lie. 

he kisses the side of sam's neck. his skin is still feverish, still hot to the touch, and knox can taste his sweat. as their sweat dries, he shivers. the night, up here on the mountain, is cooler, especially without clothes and more importantly, without the heat that comes hand in hand with lust. but he'd rather lay here with goosebumps than break this spell. 

he sighs. his thoughts are uncharacteristically quiet. and at this realization, his eyes burn and he starts crying. and quickly, as they roll down his cheeks and onto sam, he goes to explain himself. 

"you make me so happy."

samuel carter

☉

those words sink into sam's core as well. i haven't either. what a beautiful thing.

he feels proud, even as knox kisses his neck and sends a fresh wave of goosebumps over his body. that, mixed with the cold night air against his skin? he's content, could nearly fall asleep.

but knox shivering jostles his brain into being away. he'd closed his eyes and images of them flashed through his mind. feelings, sounds, them.

then, something falls, and sam wonders if it had started to rain. he curiously looked up, rolling a bit toward knox in order to see the sky. but then he hears the tell tale sounds of knox crying and he shifts more completely, sure not to squish or hit knox in the process.

he doesn't wipe the tears, but he does kiss knox' lips. he sears those words into his brain, etches them onto his heart, convinces himself that this is the moment that he'll remember anytime it gets bad between them.

"you make me just as happy, knox." slowly his thumb strokes knox as he pulls closer, tangling their limbs, pulling the blanket up and around their bare skin to block the cold. "happier than i've ever been... and, i feel free when i'm with you."

knox prescott

later, he knows, they will return. when sam is off to work and the world goes grey again, they'll come to haunt him. they will remind him that he will break it, that this moment only means so much because of the damage he will inevitably wreak upon them. 

but now, with sam's beaming smile before him, promises on his lips, he can't hear any of that. a thrill goes through him and he tucks the words away for later. for when he really, truly needs them.

sam folds the blanket over them, draws it up, and knox is grateful, but then something wet is on his arm. confused, he draws the blankets back and squints. and when he realizes what it is, he bursts out laughing. 

"sam." he folds the blanket again so that is tucked away, but his arm still glistens. 

samuel carter

☉

he's not embarrassed, but he does make a face. just as knox laughs, his face squints. unacceptable. because that can't-- that bit of sam can't just stay there! he glanced around, then rummages for the napkins in the bag.

he doesn't leave the tangled space he is in with knox, gets it the napkin out, and he wipes himself off of knox and tucks it into the bag where it won't make more of a mess.

"sorry."

there is a smile on his lips regardless, and as the mess is cleaned from knox' are, and the other is tucked away in folds of the blanket, sam breathes out a relaxed sigh and pushes his forehead against knox', nuzzling his apology with a brush of his nose against knox'.

knox prescott

knox is perfectly content to deal with it later. he's never really been the 'we have to get squeaky clean after fucking and before tucking into bed' kind of guy. it's a habit that forms after so many times passing out in a stranger's arm, he supposes. so he's content to leave it for the time being, because it doesn't bother him, but the next thing he knows sam is scrambling to grab napkins. 

"don't apologize," he says. he cocks a brow. "kind of flattering, how much there was."

still, he brushes his nose against sam's. he tucks a hand behind his head as a makeshift pillow; the other brushes idly along sam's shoulder as he squeezes him close.

"so," he says, hopeful. "guess this means we can do this more often? you liked it well enough?"

samuel carter

☉

"i enjoyed it more than i ever thought i would. i can see why it's addicting." sam admitted, moving into the movements, the squeeze of his arm, and the brush of their noses. his eyes are studying the boy before him, taking in what features he can in the dark.

"although i can't imagine allowing anybody else to touch me like that..." he frowns at the idea of anybody else doing it, and maybe this is what elijah gardner had meant when he once asked sam if he could imagine himself 'settling down' with anybody.

"i only want you this way," he smiles confidently and then nods. "and as often as you want... or rather, that we'll have time for."

knox prescott

like music to his ears. leave it to sam to go and bolster his confidence, if only because he knows he'd be brutally honest if his feelings were any less. well, that's one hurdle we won't have to overcome. he thinks back his room, back to what he'd said. if sam didn't like it, to tell him the truth, and they'd figure it out from there. 

as much as it had felt like a lie then, and maybe it's still a lie now but it's easier to swallow because it won't be like that - despite all that, he feels like he would have tried to make it work. 

and that's comforting in itself. 

"good," he says and nips at his nose. "because you're mine." 

his brows furrow and he looks a little sheepish. contemplative. "just so you know, i haven't slept with anyone else since..." he trails off as he thinks about it. "a few days before our dinner date. and even then, that's kind of why i texted you." his nose scrunches. "i couldn't get you out of my damn mind and i felt bad being with someone else."

he squeezes again. "i really am yours, you know. that's all i'm trying to say."

samuel carter

☉

being claimed felt better than he thought it would. he always thought he would feel suffocated, like he felt he wouldn't be able to breathe if somebody 'claimed him.' but perhaps there's weight to the saying, 'you never know until you try it.'

well, now he knows. and he likes it, a lot. his eyes remain open as he gives knox a kiss, slowly closing as the kiss lasts. when it pulls apart, sam moves a hand up to card through those fading colors.

"i ... never doubted you, if you can believe that. you never gave me a reason to. even when you were out with your sister, i just, didn't think you being unfaithful was an option."

which he supposed was naive, or perhaps stupid of him, looking back.

"you said i was your sam, and i said you were my knox. it meant as much to me then as you claiming me now. me claiming you."

soft tones, low voices. the sounds of nature around them, the soft shift of his umbreon getting more comfortable. her movement causes thier shadows to dance in the darkness, but sam is unafraid, and holds knox close to be sure he doesn't become afraid either.

"as i am yours, so too are you mine."

knox prescott

sam kisses him and the world keeps turning. he's eight days sober and he's in love and even though everything feels so fucked up sometimes, it feels right now. he clings tenaciously to this moment, believes if he holds tightly enough it won't get ripped away from him. 

but you still didn't see me as i was. dancing with bodies that weren't sam's, feeling hands around him, caressing him, because they were all just one big, glowing pulse, a part of something bigger than themselves. if sam had been a wallflower, he may have minded their touches on his cheek, his neck, his hips. the places knox claims are his. 

he swallows past this because it is behind them. he hasn't lied. he hasn't slept with anyone else and he hasn't felt like this with anyone else. even if someone takes my body, you'll always have my heart. that must mean something.

he chases the thoughts like a dog might chase its tail and at the end of it, he decides they're meaningless. because he's sam's and that's all there is to it. 

and the world keeps turning.

he draws the blankets up more until they're covering his nose. "so what's in the pot i almost spilled?" he asks, voice muffled as he speaks through the blanket.

samuel carter

☉