The End of You Too
Sam/Laurie, pea.gee xiii (mild drug use)
A/N: Not entirely sure what possessed me to write this. Title from Metronomy
- - - -
“You are the nicest prostitute I’ve ever met.”
“What? Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
Sam shrugs. He’s not entirely sure it was supposed to be anything. He’s not sure about much right now. They lock eyes. It’s fast enough for her to notice that his eyes are blue on red and long enough to see that he’s lost interest in the conversation. She rolls her eyes; exhales.
“I’m not very good at this,” Sam says, his voice small and slow.
Laurie laughs, “Not at all."
Another shrug (at this point it’s easier than talk). He’s been thinking though. He’s been thinking about sobering up and walking out. Closing his eyes and imagining what awaits him in the shadows of a parked car.
“Bastards,” he blurts out. Her bed is so comfortable. Rolling onto his side he watches her watch the ceiling.
“Who,” she asks, eyes staying above her.
“Hmm,” Sam mumbles. He props his head up.
“The bastards,” Laurie says and looks at him.
His head lists lazily then stills. “The press… Cameras,” he muses, “Though I guess you can’t use a camera without…” he trails off and closes his eyes. “Great bed.”
“Is there anything in this apartment you don’t like?”
A serene smiles smoothes his face, “You don’t have a dog.”
“Like I have time for a dog,” she scoffs.
“You could,” he says softly. He’s no longer paying attention to the inflection the words he says carry. He no longer cares.
“Sam…” she strokes his head hesitantly. Domesticity, it makes her fingers curl and she shifts slightly, farther away from him.
“You’re better than this.”
“I’m better than getting high with the deputy communications director? I like to think so too.”
“I don’t want to fight,” he murmurs, drifting slightly into sleep. It’s silence they lay in, the room completely still before he says, “You have a funny way of making me feel like a jackass.”
Laurie snorts, “You have a funny way of being a jackass.”
Sam flops onto his back. “Let’s go back to being quiet.”
“Fine with me,” she says and snuffs the joint out.
A/N: Not entirely sure what possessed me to write this. Title from Metronomy
- - - -
“You are the nicest prostitute I’ve ever met.”
“What? Is that supposed to be a compliment?”
Sam shrugs. He’s not entirely sure it was supposed to be anything. He’s not sure about much right now. They lock eyes. It’s fast enough for her to notice that his eyes are blue on red and long enough to see that he’s lost interest in the conversation. She rolls her eyes; exhales.
“I’m not very good at this,” Sam says, his voice small and slow.
Laurie laughs, “Not at all."
Another shrug (at this point it’s easier than talk). He’s been thinking though. He’s been thinking about sobering up and walking out. Closing his eyes and imagining what awaits him in the shadows of a parked car.
“Bastards,” he blurts out. Her bed is so comfortable. Rolling onto his side he watches her watch the ceiling.
“Who,” she asks, eyes staying above her.
“Hmm,” Sam mumbles. He props his head up.
“The bastards,” Laurie says and looks at him.
His head lists lazily then stills. “The press… Cameras,” he muses, “Though I guess you can’t use a camera without…” he trails off and closes his eyes. “Great bed.”
“Is there anything in this apartment you don’t like?”
A serene smiles smoothes his face, “You don’t have a dog.”
“Like I have time for a dog,” she scoffs.
“You could,” he says softly. He’s no longer paying attention to the inflection the words he says carry. He no longer cares.
“Sam…” she strokes his head hesitantly. Domesticity, it makes her fingers curl and she shifts slightly, farther away from him.
“You’re better than this.”
“I’m better than getting high with the deputy communications director? I like to think so too.”
“I don’t want to fight,” he murmurs, drifting slightly into sleep. It’s silence they lay in, the room completely still before he says, “You have a funny way of making me feel like a jackass.”
Laurie snorts, “You have a funny way of being a jackass.”
Sam flops onto his back. “Let’s go back to being quiet.”
“Fine with me,” she says and snuffs the joint out.