"absolutely not," knox says with a roll of his eyes. talking about it doesn't help it go away, but at least sam can't get in edgewise. only takes having a lame shoulder for knox to be strong enough to keep him restrained. y'know, at this point he'll take it. 

"it's so dorky." it might be the first time he's ever actually spoken about his insecurities. like, with anyone, and he even surprises himself that he's said it. he's helpless and they've reached the stairs so for safety's sake, they're going to have to give up on their awkward shuffle.

samuel carter

☉

knox is at a loss for words. he sheepishly looks over his shoulder and then turns all the way, jaw dropping just a smidge. just enough that the sound of disbelief slips past his teeth. and he looks at sam and then down the stairs and he has an equally dumb idea. 

so a few months of exercise and sam telling him he should do yoga led to, well, some muscle. is it the smartest thing to try and carry sam down the stairs? absolutely not. but is he going to? absolutely. 

he gets behind sam, puts his hands on his waist so sam knows he's there. then he puts an arm through his legs, one down his spine, and grunts as he pulls him up. 

and severely overestimates his strength. and also how much sam weighs. because sam doesn't look like much, but his muscles are compact and they are there and he is heavy. he loses his balance and the air gets knocked out of him as he pulls sam onto him. 

"fuck, sam! is your shoulder okay? shit."

samuel carter

☉

he broke sam. like, he must have broken sam. because he's twisting in his arms and he's not saying anything. the dull pain in his ribs means nothing because sam is in severe pain because of him. because he's stupid and doesn't think and - 

music. it's music, a trill that dissolves any ounce of stress that had bundled up on his face. he glows brightly, grinning like a lovestruck fool at the boy in his arms. and after a couple beats of stunned silence, he can't help himself. 

he laughs too. a shaking, shuddering laugh that brings tears to his eyes. his arms come around sam and he holds him close, buries his face in his hair. breathes him in through their combined laughter. 

"i'm so sorry," he crows through cheeks that are starting to hurt. 

samuel carter

☉

"i know i've never heard you laugh like that," knox agrees, albeit breathlessly. his eyes are lighter than they've been in months. that brooding self has been stripped away. what they should be exists now, here, and the stark difference of it is something that will trouble him later. 

or maybe, finally, it will give him something good to strive for. something to run to. 

he doesn't need to say it, but he wants to. he wants to say it a million ways because even after that, it'll never feel like enough. "i love you. i love you, sam. i love you." his lips are still in sam's hair and his words steadily drop to a rapturous whisper as he curls ever closer.

samuel carter

☉

i want you to be different. that's the thought that plagued him for so long in their beginning. that fear that sam could be just like everyone else, that knox could possibly give him the old one and done. how absolutely ridiculously naive he'd been. as though sam hadn't wrapped him around his finger since day one. as though sam hadn't practically declared them soulmates that night up on the mountain. 

and well, sam on his chest, shaking in his arms, laughing like he is? knox is absolutely decimated. knox has crossed the threshold of be good and has plunged headfirst into fuck that and fuck me and i'm going to fuck you. 

the last shred of wait, maybe we shouldn't goes away when sam nuzzles his nose. he's acutely aware of sam on top of him, of how close their lips are, and it's not enough. not enough with all he's feeling right now. 

so he melts into him with a tilt of his head, lips parting, tongue coaxing sam's own to make this bad decision with him. 

samuel carter

☉

and, just as expected, sam is more than willing to indulge. i'm addicted to you. those words float through his head, but he doesn't mind them. because it's true. in every sense of the word, sam's addicted to him and fuck, he doesn't mind it anymore. not if it feels like this. with sam's fingers knotted in his hair and his weight on top of him. 

not with his taste in his mouth, languid strokes as they tilt in tandem, falling into cadences that are theirs and only theirs. 

but knox doesn't let him completely readjust. he follows him up, one hand at his back because oop, they're pretty damn close to the edge of the stairs, the other resting in the hollow of his throat. his fingers curl under his shirt collar. he pushes lightly.

"don't fall down the stairs please," he says playfully, "but hop off for a sec?"

samuel carter

☉