igrab
in
the_grrrrid
There is Another Sky | Sam/Junior/Jack
title. There is Another Sky
author. igrab
pairing Sam/Junior/Jack Mercer
wordcount. 3,600
summary. He can't keep Jack all to himself forever.
SAM
He takes the steps two at a time in a rhythmic lope. Two, four, six. He's not looking forward to this conversation. Actually, that's a huge understatement. If he could be anywhere else, fuck, he'd be there. But the alternative is to go to Alan's, because Sam has to talk to someone about this, it's driving him crazy, and this is the lesser of two evils.
What he's not expecting - okay, the last thing he's expecting - is for the door to Junior's dorm room to fall open, and they're not alone.
JACK
He doesn't know what to do with his hands. He's always like that with strangers, for some reason. He can play it cool, he's a Mercer for Christ's sake, but if there's nothing in his hands, they just sort of flop about aimlessly. He looks around for something - a guitar pick, a cigarette, a guitar even - but there's nothing ready, so he tucks them under his knees and tries to look like he belongs here.
Junior's friend - he's got to be a friend, he has a key and everything - is, well. Handsome. Not just, you know, pretty, like Junior - really pretty - but he's all clean lines, big hands, warm smile. Jack feels all young and awkward and coltish. So handsome. And he's looking right at him.
"Hey," he says warmly. "I'm Sam."
JUNIOR
He's a ridiculous jumble of emotions, now. He's anxious because he hasn't heard from Sam in a while, hasn't seen him in class recently, but on the other hand, he's glad to see him. But also anxious, again, because Jack. So far, he'd managed (not entirely on purpose) to keep them apart, but now - he's just worried.
It isn't that he's jealous or anything, though he has a good idea what would happen if they ever met. That is to say, he's jealous, but he can't really make up his mind who to be jealous of. Sam - he's had a thing for Sam for years, now. Maybe he's always had it. He can't escape it, can't run from it, no matter how many people he meets or - or how many strange boys he befriends in bars. And Jack is just - Jack is Junior's, for once. He doesn't have a lot that's truly his.
"Sam - "
SAM
"Hey, Junior." He shines his smile his best friend's way and holds up a fist for a bump that Junior, reluctantly, taps with his own. He looks nervous. Good. That way, Sam didn't have to be.
He ignores him, then, in favor of the boy on the couch. Look at him, all legs and arms and swept-back hair - with his fingers, like he's got a habit of running them through. Baby-faced. Fucking gorgeous.
He offers his hand and the boy, after a moment, takes it with a bit of surprise. It's like no one's ever been nice to him before - not like this, with simplicity and warmth. Junior, he's nice, but he's nice in the off-hand ways, like knowing how to plan a perfect date night or exactly what to get someone on Christmas or sending them a hundred and one texts right when they're really down and they need someone. That's it, Junior's nice because he's there, one hundred percent, when you need him. But he isn't very good at doing the reaching out. And that's what Sam's here for.
JACK
"Jack Mercer," he says, shaking the hand slowly. It feels so warm and big but not at all rough like Jack expected. Maybe he's just used to rough hands, maybe that's why Junior's are so fascinating to him (and he's got such long, pretty fingers, with perfect nails, and Jack really needs to stop thinking about his friend's hands because he really, really doesn't want to fuck this up), but Sam's just look like they should be. Rough, that is. They look callused on the outside, even. But the inside - no, they're all softness and a measured, even strength.
Sam grins at him and Jack's heart does veritable flip-flops. "It's good to meet you," he says - and it sounds like he means it. Jack can feel himself going red, and he's glad when Sam finally lets go, because that means he can scoot over and reach for his guitar and hope he can fade away into the background.
JUNIOR
Sam comes back over and Junior pushes his hair out of his eyes and purses his lips. He doesn't want to answer any questions about Jack. He just doesn't. Jack is a friend and he's here more often than not because he probably has a bad situation... wherever he is, and Junior maybe has this thing with people needing him. That is to say, it happens so rarely that when it does, he's weak as a kitten and can't resist.
But Sam blows all of that out of the water.
"I'm dropping out," he says, and for a moment, Junior feels it like a sick swoop in his stomach.
SAM
"Of - CalTech?" Junior manages, gesturing vaguely around the dorm - the dorm that, for the past two years, has often been Sam's second home.
"Yeah." This is what he was dreading, that look of disappointment on Junior's face - like Sam was breaking up with him or something. This is what he'd been afraid of. And that's the thing; Sam isn't afraid of much. He isn't afraid of dying or pain or spiders or jail, but sometimes, he's a little afraid of living. And he's afraid, sometimes, of getting too close to people, because it hurts too much when they go away.
But if he leaves, if he ends things on his terms, it's okay. As long as he doesn't have to see their face when they realize that something is ending.
JACK
Jack watches, listens, can't help but overhear. He's known what school Junior goes to (duh) and he's heard about Sam Flynn, though he's gotten this feeling that Junior never really wanted to talk about him, and now - now, Jack sort of gets why.
He knows, even from just a handshake and a smile, that Sam is someone special. He doesn't know the details yet, but it's a pretty strong feeling, that Sam is special and that he bends the world when he walks in it, and Junior - Junior likes being bent. Jack's sort of gathered that, and the thought makes him nervous in all kinds of ways. He defies words. And now, he's leaving.
Hell, even Jack feels sad about that, and he's known him for all of ten seconds.
JUNIOR
"....Why?"
He's not asking to be accusing. He really just wants to know. Sam's grades are fine. He's doing well. He even got a few job offers and internship opportunities, but that might have been the whole son-of-Flynn thing. And yet, Junior doubts it. Sam's as brilliant as his father, or better. Junior likes to believe that he's better.
"Because this isn't my life."
What isn't? College? Programming? Staying up at Junior's until 3am playing a bootleg of Tron that they ported to his playstation? Hacking into the school's mainframe to leave little notes and snatches of Dickinson? Getting tacos on study nights? Junior?
If this isn't his life, than what is?
SAM
He has to clarify that, and quickly.
"...I mean, all this corporate stuff. Everyone expects me to be some kind of genius and, okay, that's great and all, but it's not like I'm ready to - "
"Sam." Junior cuts him off. "What happened?"
See, that's the thing, with Junior. He just has this way of getting right to the heart of the problem - no extraneous information, no needless worrying. A tension Sam didn't even know he was feeling drains out of his spine, and for a second, his knees threaten to buckle. He backs up until his legs find the couch, and he sits down.
"...Encom sent me an offer. For CEO."
JACK
Jack doesn't know what Encom is, but he does know that Sam looks like he needs a hug, so he just - sets his guitar down, scoots over the two feet or so, and puts an arm around Sam's shoulders. Sam, for his part, doesn't flinch or move away or act surprised in any way, like Jack half-thought he might. Instead - he leans into it, smiles all grateful and sweet out of the corner of his mouth. Jack can get to that.
Junior, halfway across the room, looks like he needs to sit down as well, but there's only one couch so he sits on the floor. Jack makes a small snorting noise of oh no way man and gestures, with his free hand, to Sam's other side. Hello, Sam needs hugs. And floors are not for sitting, his mom's voice reminds him helpfully.
JUNIOR
He really can't resist Jack anything, can he?
Sam chuckles when Junior settles into his side, all low and entertained, and Junior can feel it bleed through like the heat from where their legs are touching. He's hypersensitive of everything - Sam's back, his arms, Jack's arm, Jack's hand, his fingers touching Junior's side, everything. It's a good distraction, though. It gets him over the surprise enough to ask.
"CEO? Isn't that a little premature?"
Sam laughs, tightly. "Yeah. Tell me about it."
And, Junior realizes, they won't give up until they have him. They won't let him accept a position at a rival company, they won't let him work in a more creative field, they won't let him develop as a person. He understands, now. He gets why Sam has to leave. He just doesn't want him to.
SAM
There's a long, brooding silence after that. It's a little difficult, when your boyfriend doesn't know he's your boyfriend and if he did know, it'd be easy as anything for Sam to swing a leg over his lap and press his shoulders back into that faux-suede couch back and kiss any doubt of his away. If Junior knew, he'd get that Sam isn't leaving him - he's just not going to be a CalTech student anymore.
And it's Sam's fault, really, for not telling him sooner. By the way, we're dating. We've been dating for like, a year, you were just too stupid to realize it, and I was too much of a coward. But then he was still a coward, again and again and again, and now he's here and he finally wants to have actual boyfriend time and he can't because they're not alone.
Not that he even minds Jack. He doesn't need to know or care what he's doing in Junior's dorm, he's pretty certain they've done exactly nothing, because Junior's a good boyfriend. He doesn't cheat. Sam, not so much. And he likes Jack, can tell that Jack likes him.
So maybe he can wait on the boyfriend thing until the morning.
JACK
That can't be the end of this conversation. It really can't. Junior still looks like a wounded puppy and Sam, just as bad, though maybe for different reasons. Jack's still not clear on what exactly the terms are, but he knows that Sam's leaving and Junior understands why (but he's still upset) and Sam's upset, everyone is upset but this is way not something Jack can involve himself in. Hugging is one thing, but he's clearly out of his depth.
But next to him, Sam yawns. "Can I crash on your couch," he mutters in Junior's direction, with the buttery familiarity of an oft-spoken phrase.
Junior sighs. "Sure," he whispers. He sounds like a wreck, and Jack wants to - to hug him, maybe, or kiss him until he forgets everything. "Might have to share, though."
Sam's eyes flick at Jack, almost like he's asking permission, and Jack raises an eyebrow. He turns to Junior and grins.
"What, he doesn't sleep in your bed?"
JUNIOR
Junior smacks him, hard, but not hard enough because Sam just chuckles. He leans back and stretches with that good-natured grin and Junior loses his train of thought faster than the Flash and decides, at that moment, that Sam probably has the right idea of it. Bedtime. Definitely. He was already exhausted before Sam showed up, and now he just feels wrung out.
"You can take my bed," he says to Jack, as he gets up a little too quickly. "I can..." But he doesn't know, does he, because he can't possibly sleep that close to Sam on purpose without turning into a nervous wreck, though the couch is roomy enough and they've shared it before.
"Oh, no. Don't worry about it. You have an early class, right? Get some sleep." He reaches a hand out - for what, Junior can't tell, but he's reaching back anyway before he can think twice, and Jack - Jack just curls their fingers together and smiles, for a moment. Junior's heart does double-time.
"Another time," Jack says, so quietly that Junior doesn't even know what he says for a minute - it's not until he's in his room and half-undressed that he suddenly realizes what Jack could possibly have been talking about.
Sharing a bed. This bed. Like what Sam said.
And Jack says, another time.
Oh, yeah, sleeping. Because that will be really easy now. Not.
SAM
So they're finally alone. Neither of them, it seems, are too attached to things like pajamas and pillows and blankets; or Jack's just too polite to ask. Sam has a feeling it's something of both. He might've liked pillows at least, but he won't think of it, and if he did, he wouldn't want to ask.
Sam gets a few pillows.
It's in this process - of arranging the pillows and finding a comfortable place on the couch - that Sam finally just gives up, shakes his head, and pulls Jack all up against him from chest to thigh. It's more comfortable this way, side-hugged or spooning, and it makes kissing a lot easier.
That transition, from repositioning to kissing, is seamless. Sam doesn't even know who made the first move - all he knows is that they're kissing, and he's melting like a spring thaw. Jack's so beautiful, so passionate, under that social-polite shyness that Sam gets right in under. He's so slim, so bony. Sam wants to just wrap him up in his arms, he wants to hug him in tight.
Mostly, he wants to scratch the itch that Junior's been giving him. Jack's. Sam, well, Junior drives him crazy, yeah, but he's a bad boyfriend so he figures that's his due. This is all for Jack.
JACK
He's practically drowning in the kiss, scrabbling for everything - breath, sanity, control. The last is given to him instantly and graciously, to his surprise, and with this new-found freedom Jack rolls onto Sam's chest and slides his hands into his short, fuzzy hair and kisses the absolute everloving out of him. It's gratifying, to feel the way that Sam shifts under him, to hear a needy whimper as soft as a breath. Large hands grasp at his hips - not demanding, and Jack flinches for a second before he realizes that it isn't, he's safe, it's the grip of a man who's falling and he needs to hold on to something.
But Sam notices it - the hesitation, and he stops and looks up at Jack in the moonlight with eyes like dark water.
JUNIOR
He lies back in the dark and thinks about the bizarreness of life. Sam, leaving - Jack, staying, out on the couch with him and suddenly, Junior isn't even jealous. He can't be. How can he be jealous? He's been too scared to act for, what, months? And with Sam - years. And Sam's leaving now, so he doesn't begrudge them this.
They're the two best people in the world, he's sure of that. He's just so happy to know them, to be a part of what they are - of something so much better than himself.
SAM
"I'm fine," Jack breathes, and Sam doesn't believe it for an instant. He doesn't say so, but he moves his hands - a bit higher, chaster, though 'chaste' is the last thing on his mind. He hadn't expected this. He thought it would be - he didn't know, really, didn't think this through. Maybe he just wanted to make Junior jealous, maybe he just wanted a distraction. But Jack is more than a distraction. Jack could easily become an addiction.
He leans in and kisses him again, once again keeping the force low and the gentleness high, and letting Jack dictate the terms. And it's enough. It shouldn't be enough for him, but it is, because Jack's innocence is in no way innocent, and he's alternately all shy and all bold, he's driving Sam crazy. Crazy like Junior. What is he doing? He's only just met him.
"You like him, don't you," Sam mouths against his lips. "I could see you watching."
JACK
Jack shakes under Sam's hands and his lips but at those words, it's like something just runs right out of him, drains away, and he's buckling and falling down with his face against Sam's chest. Sam pulls him up a little and it sets off sparks - they both make quiet sounds - but kissing him is like being wrapped in something warm.
"Yeah," Jack says, and he's never tried harder in his life to talk silently. "You too, huh."
It's all that needs to be said. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and it's like they're both reaching for something, through each other, but it isn't like Jack thought it would feel like, with all angst and all guilt. They find each other, too. So there's something beautiful in that.
JUNIOR
He's half-convinced that he's half asleep and completely sure he's lying, when the door whispers open.
It's Jack, he thinks first, but right on the heels of it - No, it's Sam.
As it turns out, it's both.
"What are you - "
SAM
They pile onto his tiny college bed, one on either side of him, and Jack giggles, honest-to-god giggles. It's a thing of pure loveliness, and Junior isn't asleep, of course he isn't.
Sam sets himself in the crack between the bed and the wall and keeps one hand on Jack so he doesn't fall off. Jack's perfectly willing to wrap his arms around Junior to stay close, and Junior, well, he doesn't even know what to do.
"We're here to be greedy for your affection," he says. He grins when Junior looks shocked.
JACK
"Among other things," Jack says. Then he reaches up and turns Junior's face to his and kisses him for the first time, and it's all the things he's thought and more - sweetly tentative, fiercely needy, all contradictions and stops and starts. Junior's hand comes right up to grip in his shirt - then he lets go, just as suddenly. He pulls and pushes, he goes still.
Jack laughs against his lips and wriggles in underneath the blankets, until he can touch skin.
JUNIOR
Junior is just going out of his fucking mind.
There's Jack at his front, tongue sliding at his lower lip and hands teasing at his shirt hem, and there's Sam behind him, an arm around him, being warm and solid and patient. Very, very patient. Junior presses back against him.
Sam ducks his head immediately and presses his lips to the juncture of jaw and neck, and Junior shivers from head to toe. All right, then. This is real. This is happening. This isn't just a dream.
SAM
"I'm not leaving you," Sam whispers in his ear. "I'm leaving CalTech and Encom and everything else, but I'm not leaving you. I can't. You're the best part of me."
JACK
And Jack thinks, then, that maybe things will be all right.
author. igrab
pairing Sam/Junior/Jack Mercer
wordcount. 3,600
summary. He can't keep Jack all to himself forever.
SAM
He takes the steps two at a time in a rhythmic lope. Two, four, six. He's not looking forward to this conversation. Actually, that's a huge understatement. If he could be anywhere else, fuck, he'd be there. But the alternative is to go to Alan's, because Sam has to talk to someone about this, it's driving him crazy, and this is the lesser of two evils.
What he's not expecting - okay, the last thing he's expecting - is for the door to Junior's dorm room to fall open, and they're not alone.
JACK
He doesn't know what to do with his hands. He's always like that with strangers, for some reason. He can play it cool, he's a Mercer for Christ's sake, but if there's nothing in his hands, they just sort of flop about aimlessly. He looks around for something - a guitar pick, a cigarette, a guitar even - but there's nothing ready, so he tucks them under his knees and tries to look like he belongs here.
Junior's friend - he's got to be a friend, he has a key and everything - is, well. Handsome. Not just, you know, pretty, like Junior - really pretty - but he's all clean lines, big hands, warm smile. Jack feels all young and awkward and coltish. So handsome. And he's looking right at him.
"Hey," he says warmly. "I'm Sam."
JUNIOR
He's a ridiculous jumble of emotions, now. He's anxious because he hasn't heard from Sam in a while, hasn't seen him in class recently, but on the other hand, he's glad to see him. But also anxious, again, because Jack. So far, he'd managed (not entirely on purpose) to keep them apart, but now - he's just worried.
It isn't that he's jealous or anything, though he has a good idea what would happen if they ever met. That is to say, he's jealous, but he can't really make up his mind who to be jealous of. Sam - he's had a thing for Sam for years, now. Maybe he's always had it. He can't escape it, can't run from it, no matter how many people he meets or - or how many strange boys he befriends in bars. And Jack is just - Jack is Junior's, for once. He doesn't have a lot that's truly his.
"Sam - "
SAM
"Hey, Junior." He shines his smile his best friend's way and holds up a fist for a bump that Junior, reluctantly, taps with his own. He looks nervous. Good. That way, Sam didn't have to be.
He ignores him, then, in favor of the boy on the couch. Look at him, all legs and arms and swept-back hair - with his fingers, like he's got a habit of running them through. Baby-faced. Fucking gorgeous.
He offers his hand and the boy, after a moment, takes it with a bit of surprise. It's like no one's ever been nice to him before - not like this, with simplicity and warmth. Junior, he's nice, but he's nice in the off-hand ways, like knowing how to plan a perfect date night or exactly what to get someone on Christmas or sending them a hundred and one texts right when they're really down and they need someone. That's it, Junior's nice because he's there, one hundred percent, when you need him. But he isn't very good at doing the reaching out. And that's what Sam's here for.
JACK
"Jack Mercer," he says, shaking the hand slowly. It feels so warm and big but not at all rough like Jack expected. Maybe he's just used to rough hands, maybe that's why Junior's are so fascinating to him (and he's got such long, pretty fingers, with perfect nails, and Jack really needs to stop thinking about his friend's hands because he really, really doesn't want to fuck this up), but Sam's just look like they should be. Rough, that is. They look callused on the outside, even. But the inside - no, they're all softness and a measured, even strength.
Sam grins at him and Jack's heart does veritable flip-flops. "It's good to meet you," he says - and it sounds like he means it. Jack can feel himself going red, and he's glad when Sam finally lets go, because that means he can scoot over and reach for his guitar and hope he can fade away into the background.
JUNIOR
Sam comes back over and Junior pushes his hair out of his eyes and purses his lips. He doesn't want to answer any questions about Jack. He just doesn't. Jack is a friend and he's here more often than not because he probably has a bad situation... wherever he is, and Junior maybe has this thing with people needing him. That is to say, it happens so rarely that when it does, he's weak as a kitten and can't resist.
But Sam blows all of that out of the water.
"I'm dropping out," he says, and for a moment, Junior feels it like a sick swoop in his stomach.
SAM
"Of - CalTech?" Junior manages, gesturing vaguely around the dorm - the dorm that, for the past two years, has often been Sam's second home.
"Yeah." This is what he was dreading, that look of disappointment on Junior's face - like Sam was breaking up with him or something. This is what he'd been afraid of. And that's the thing; Sam isn't afraid of much. He isn't afraid of dying or pain or spiders or jail, but sometimes, he's a little afraid of living. And he's afraid, sometimes, of getting too close to people, because it hurts too much when they go away.
But if he leaves, if he ends things on his terms, it's okay. As long as he doesn't have to see their face when they realize that something is ending.
JACK
Jack watches, listens, can't help but overhear. He's known what school Junior goes to (duh) and he's heard about Sam Flynn, though he's gotten this feeling that Junior never really wanted to talk about him, and now - now, Jack sort of gets why.
He knows, even from just a handshake and a smile, that Sam is someone special. He doesn't know the details yet, but it's a pretty strong feeling, that Sam is special and that he bends the world when he walks in it, and Junior - Junior likes being bent. Jack's sort of gathered that, and the thought makes him nervous in all kinds of ways. He defies words. And now, he's leaving.
Hell, even Jack feels sad about that, and he's known him for all of ten seconds.
JUNIOR
"....Why?"
He's not asking to be accusing. He really just wants to know. Sam's grades are fine. He's doing well. He even got a few job offers and internship opportunities, but that might have been the whole son-of-Flynn thing. And yet, Junior doubts it. Sam's as brilliant as his father, or better. Junior likes to believe that he's better.
"Because this isn't my life."
What isn't? College? Programming? Staying up at Junior's until 3am playing a bootleg of Tron that they ported to his playstation? Hacking into the school's mainframe to leave little notes and snatches of Dickinson? Getting tacos on study nights? Junior?
If this isn't his life, than what is?
SAM
He has to clarify that, and quickly.
"...I mean, all this corporate stuff. Everyone expects me to be some kind of genius and, okay, that's great and all, but it's not like I'm ready to - "
"Sam." Junior cuts him off. "What happened?"
See, that's the thing, with Junior. He just has this way of getting right to the heart of the problem - no extraneous information, no needless worrying. A tension Sam didn't even know he was feeling drains out of his spine, and for a second, his knees threaten to buckle. He backs up until his legs find the couch, and he sits down.
"...Encom sent me an offer. For CEO."
JACK
Jack doesn't know what Encom is, but he does know that Sam looks like he needs a hug, so he just - sets his guitar down, scoots over the two feet or so, and puts an arm around Sam's shoulders. Sam, for his part, doesn't flinch or move away or act surprised in any way, like Jack half-thought he might. Instead - he leans into it, smiles all grateful and sweet out of the corner of his mouth. Jack can get to that.
Junior, halfway across the room, looks like he needs to sit down as well, but there's only one couch so he sits on the floor. Jack makes a small snorting noise of oh no way man and gestures, with his free hand, to Sam's other side. Hello, Sam needs hugs. And floors are not for sitting, his mom's voice reminds him helpfully.
JUNIOR
He really can't resist Jack anything, can he?
Sam chuckles when Junior settles into his side, all low and entertained, and Junior can feel it bleed through like the heat from where their legs are touching. He's hypersensitive of everything - Sam's back, his arms, Jack's arm, Jack's hand, his fingers touching Junior's side, everything. It's a good distraction, though. It gets him over the surprise enough to ask.
"CEO? Isn't that a little premature?"
Sam laughs, tightly. "Yeah. Tell me about it."
And, Junior realizes, they won't give up until they have him. They won't let him accept a position at a rival company, they won't let him work in a more creative field, they won't let him develop as a person. He understands, now. He gets why Sam has to leave. He just doesn't want him to.
SAM
There's a long, brooding silence after that. It's a little difficult, when your boyfriend doesn't know he's your boyfriend and if he did know, it'd be easy as anything for Sam to swing a leg over his lap and press his shoulders back into that faux-suede couch back and kiss any doubt of his away. If Junior knew, he'd get that Sam isn't leaving him - he's just not going to be a CalTech student anymore.
And it's Sam's fault, really, for not telling him sooner. By the way, we're dating. We've been dating for like, a year, you were just too stupid to realize it, and I was too much of a coward. But then he was still a coward, again and again and again, and now he's here and he finally wants to have actual boyfriend time and he can't because they're not alone.
Not that he even minds Jack. He doesn't need to know or care what he's doing in Junior's dorm, he's pretty certain they've done exactly nothing, because Junior's a good boyfriend. He doesn't cheat. Sam, not so much. And he likes Jack, can tell that Jack likes him.
So maybe he can wait on the boyfriend thing until the morning.
JACK
That can't be the end of this conversation. It really can't. Junior still looks like a wounded puppy and Sam, just as bad, though maybe for different reasons. Jack's still not clear on what exactly the terms are, but he knows that Sam's leaving and Junior understands why (but he's still upset) and Sam's upset, everyone is upset but this is way not something Jack can involve himself in. Hugging is one thing, but he's clearly out of his depth.
But next to him, Sam yawns. "Can I crash on your couch," he mutters in Junior's direction, with the buttery familiarity of an oft-spoken phrase.
Junior sighs. "Sure," he whispers. He sounds like a wreck, and Jack wants to - to hug him, maybe, or kiss him until he forgets everything. "Might have to share, though."
Sam's eyes flick at Jack, almost like he's asking permission, and Jack raises an eyebrow. He turns to Junior and grins.
"What, he doesn't sleep in your bed?"
JUNIOR
Junior smacks him, hard, but not hard enough because Sam just chuckles. He leans back and stretches with that good-natured grin and Junior loses his train of thought faster than the Flash and decides, at that moment, that Sam probably has the right idea of it. Bedtime. Definitely. He was already exhausted before Sam showed up, and now he just feels wrung out.
"You can take my bed," he says to Jack, as he gets up a little too quickly. "I can..." But he doesn't know, does he, because he can't possibly sleep that close to Sam on purpose without turning into a nervous wreck, though the couch is roomy enough and they've shared it before.
"Oh, no. Don't worry about it. You have an early class, right? Get some sleep." He reaches a hand out - for what, Junior can't tell, but he's reaching back anyway before he can think twice, and Jack - Jack just curls their fingers together and smiles, for a moment. Junior's heart does double-time.
"Another time," Jack says, so quietly that Junior doesn't even know what he says for a minute - it's not until he's in his room and half-undressed that he suddenly realizes what Jack could possibly have been talking about.
Sharing a bed. This bed. Like what Sam said.
And Jack says, another time.
Oh, yeah, sleeping. Because that will be really easy now. Not.
SAM
So they're finally alone. Neither of them, it seems, are too attached to things like pajamas and pillows and blankets; or Jack's just too polite to ask. Sam has a feeling it's something of both. He might've liked pillows at least, but he won't think of it, and if he did, he wouldn't want to ask.
Sam gets a few pillows.
It's in this process - of arranging the pillows and finding a comfortable place on the couch - that Sam finally just gives up, shakes his head, and pulls Jack all up against him from chest to thigh. It's more comfortable this way, side-hugged or spooning, and it makes kissing a lot easier.
That transition, from repositioning to kissing, is seamless. Sam doesn't even know who made the first move - all he knows is that they're kissing, and he's melting like a spring thaw. Jack's so beautiful, so passionate, under that social-polite shyness that Sam gets right in under. He's so slim, so bony. Sam wants to just wrap him up in his arms, he wants to hug him in tight.
Mostly, he wants to scratch the itch that Junior's been giving him. Jack's. Sam, well, Junior drives him crazy, yeah, but he's a bad boyfriend so he figures that's his due. This is all for Jack.
JACK
He's practically drowning in the kiss, scrabbling for everything - breath, sanity, control. The last is given to him instantly and graciously, to his surprise, and with this new-found freedom Jack rolls onto Sam's chest and slides his hands into his short, fuzzy hair and kisses the absolute everloving out of him. It's gratifying, to feel the way that Sam shifts under him, to hear a needy whimper as soft as a breath. Large hands grasp at his hips - not demanding, and Jack flinches for a second before he realizes that it isn't, he's safe, it's the grip of a man who's falling and he needs to hold on to something.
But Sam notices it - the hesitation, and he stops and looks up at Jack in the moonlight with eyes like dark water.
JUNIOR
He lies back in the dark and thinks about the bizarreness of life. Sam, leaving - Jack, staying, out on the couch with him and suddenly, Junior isn't even jealous. He can't be. How can he be jealous? He's been too scared to act for, what, months? And with Sam - years. And Sam's leaving now, so he doesn't begrudge them this.
They're the two best people in the world, he's sure of that. He's just so happy to know them, to be a part of what they are - of something so much better than himself.
SAM
"I'm fine," Jack breathes, and Sam doesn't believe it for an instant. He doesn't say so, but he moves his hands - a bit higher, chaster, though 'chaste' is the last thing on his mind. He hadn't expected this. He thought it would be - he didn't know, really, didn't think this through. Maybe he just wanted to make Junior jealous, maybe he just wanted a distraction. But Jack is more than a distraction. Jack could easily become an addiction.
He leans in and kisses him again, once again keeping the force low and the gentleness high, and letting Jack dictate the terms. And it's enough. It shouldn't be enough for him, but it is, because Jack's innocence is in no way innocent, and he's alternately all shy and all bold, he's driving Sam crazy. Crazy like Junior. What is he doing? He's only just met him.
"You like him, don't you," Sam mouths against his lips. "I could see you watching."
JACK
Jack shakes under Sam's hands and his lips but at those words, it's like something just runs right out of him, drains away, and he's buckling and falling down with his face against Sam's chest. Sam pulls him up a little and it sets off sparks - they both make quiet sounds - but kissing him is like being wrapped in something warm.
"Yeah," Jack says, and he's never tried harder in his life to talk silently. "You too, huh."
It's all that needs to be said. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and it's like they're both reaching for something, through each other, but it isn't like Jack thought it would feel like, with all angst and all guilt. They find each other, too. So there's something beautiful in that.
JUNIOR
He's half-convinced that he's half asleep and completely sure he's lying, when the door whispers open.
It's Jack, he thinks first, but right on the heels of it - No, it's Sam.
As it turns out, it's both.
"What are you - "
SAM
They pile onto his tiny college bed, one on either side of him, and Jack giggles, honest-to-god giggles. It's a thing of pure loveliness, and Junior isn't asleep, of course he isn't.
Sam sets himself in the crack between the bed and the wall and keeps one hand on Jack so he doesn't fall off. Jack's perfectly willing to wrap his arms around Junior to stay close, and Junior, well, he doesn't even know what to do.
"We're here to be greedy for your affection," he says. He grins when Junior looks shocked.
JACK
"Among other things," Jack says. Then he reaches up and turns Junior's face to his and kisses him for the first time, and it's all the things he's thought and more - sweetly tentative, fiercely needy, all contradictions and stops and starts. Junior's hand comes right up to grip in his shirt - then he lets go, just as suddenly. He pulls and pushes, he goes still.
Jack laughs against his lips and wriggles in underneath the blankets, until he can touch skin.
JUNIOR
Junior is just going out of his fucking mind.
There's Jack at his front, tongue sliding at his lower lip and hands teasing at his shirt hem, and there's Sam behind him, an arm around him, being warm and solid and patient. Very, very patient. Junior presses back against him.
Sam ducks his head immediately and presses his lips to the juncture of jaw and neck, and Junior shivers from head to toe. All right, then. This is real. This is happening. This isn't just a dream.
SAM
"I'm not leaving you," Sam whispers in his ear. "I'm leaving CalTech and Encom and everything else, but I'm not leaving you. I can't. You're the best part of me."
JACK
And Jack thinks, then, that maybe things will be all right.