Chapter 14
Title: Chapter 14
Fandom: Breakfast with Scot
Pairing: Eric/Sam
Rating: PG13ish
Summary: Beginnings story cont'd
Disclaimer: No ownership of characters of course
Link to all chapters unavez18.livejournal.com/2044.html
Sam was sitting on the couch in the living room with expectant eyes, but Eric wasn’t really sure what more to he could say at that moment to make things right between them. He fluffed a pillow and nervously sat down a ways away, being sure to maintain his physical distance in an attempt to keep his mental acuities somewhat clear. He’d already screwed up on their coffee date, from his inability to act natural with Joan-as ill-advised as her plan had been-to blurting out his desire to live with Sam. Not that he was even sure where that had come from, other than the fact that he’d been dreaming about having Sam next to him in bed since their split, and he couldn’t imagine a day would go by where he wouldn’t want Sam lying there by his side.
But he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and now he was sure Sam was spinning the wheels in his head, trying to figure out a way to let him down gently, because, after all, Sam was that kind of guy.
From where he sat he suddenly noticed an empty pretzel bag and two beer bottles that he’d carelessly thrown under a chair a few days before. Grinning sheepishly he got up and grabbed at the items, quickly shoving them into a nearby wastebasket.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t take you very long to go back to your old ways, huh,” he said.
“You shoulda seen it before Joan and I cleaned up a little,” Eric began with a laugh, then clamped his mouth shut with chagrin. “Not that I’m going to be that way anymore,” he added quickly. “I mean, I’m going to pick up after myself. I know you couldn’t live in a place where . . . not that I think you’re going to live here . . . Jesus, I’m just going to stop talking now.” He sank down on the couch with his head bowed and began restlessly twisting at the fabric of his jeans.
Sam’s hand appeared in his lap then and took hold of his nervous fingers. “I don’t really mind that you’re messy,” he said, and by the time Eric turned his face Sam had already inched his way over, purposefully causing their lips to collide in a kiss.
Afterwards they smiled and kept their faces pressed up against each other for a moment. “Are we okay?” Eric whispered.
“Let’s just take things one step at a time,” Sam answered, but as he did his hand trailed to the buttons on Eric’s shirt and deftly began to undo them. Evidently, his next step was to get Eric naked.
*
Long after the fervor of the makeup sex wore off Eric found he couldn’t stop holding onto Sam. Or rather, they couldn’t stop holding on to each other. He was lying across Sam’s chest in a way he’d been longing to do for some time, but hadn’t been able to because of the cast and the strain it had put on his shoulder. One of Sam’s arms was wrapped around him and the other was casually running through his hair.
He wasn’t quite sure which part of what he’d pulled off was more shocking; that he had won Sam back, or that he had actually grown a pair and admitted that he wanted to win him back. Being alone for the rest of his life no longer seemed like a tolerable sacrifice, and even if he wasn’t entirely ready to ask the world to accept him, he’d finally come to terms with the fact that the only way he’d ever be happy was if he accepted himself.
He smiled as he listened to Sam’s heartbeat, letting the soothing rhythm lull him into a state of calm. “I can’t believe I tried to pretend I didn’t want this,” he mumbled. He knew he was bordering on the overly emotional, which wasn’t a place he went to frequently, but he figured Sam deserved the openness after what he’d put him through. “I’ve always wanted this . . . I’m so sorry I made you feel like you weren’t enough.”
He felt Sam’s chest rumble under him and looked up to see him chuckling softly. “It’s alright. It’s not like you were the first.”
Eric leaned up on his elbow and regarded Sam curiously for a moment before gently brushing back the lock of hair that had a tendency to bounce its way onto Sam’s forehead. He could see Sam’s eyes glowing with pleasure at being touched like that. “Well I hope I’m the last,” he said.
Sam’s eyes shot wide and his eyebrows approached his hairline.
“Uh,” Eric lowered his head with embarrassment, “I mean, you deserve a lot better than that, Sam. I’m not even sure how you put up with me. You’re such an incredible person . . .” he trailed off as Sam was starting to blush under his praise. “And another thing, if I ever lay eyes on this Mark guy, or your brother for that matter, I’ll show them just what I think of them. I may be injured, but I’m still a fighter.”
The responding smile started slowly-- first just a twitch of Sam's lips and then a full grin showing his white teeth and spreading to his eyes.
“Thanks,” he said.
Eric reached up and gave him a long, deep kiss, and then, even though he knew he shouldn’t press, least of all that night, he had to ask again. He didn’t think he could sleep without knowing. “Are we okay?”
Sam smiled again. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
Returning to his resting place, Eric hugged Sam tightly around his narrow chest; so tightly he heard Sam struggling to draw in air.
“You’re going to break a rib!” Sam squeaked.
“Sorry,” Eric replied, but he only relaxed his grip slightly before falling asleep.
**********
Sam woke up with a happy smile playing on his lips before he even remembered what it was for. He could hear Eric rummaging around downstairs as he got up and dressed himself quickly, thankful he’d left a shirt or two in his abrupt departure three weeks ago. But as he looped on his tie he lingered a little longer than necessary, imagining what it would be like to wake up every morning in that same room, secure in the fact that he had a home and a warm body to come back to at the end of the day.
His happily-ever-after reverie was cut short by the sight of the clock, however, which reminded him that he still had to get to work. Grabbing his jacket, he tossed it over his shoulder and pounded down the stairs, absentmindedly straightening his tie until he came upon Eric standing by the open front door with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in his hands.
Eric was smiling in a forced manner at a short, older woman with a pug nose and a surprisingly boisterous voice who was welcoming him to the neighborhood. She paused in her speech about just having returned from her Jamaican vacation with her husband George when she saw Sam standing behind Eric’s frame.
Eric turned around and gave him a nervous glance. “Uh, Mildred, this is . . . this is . . .” he began awkwardly.
At the moment, Sam was still overcome with all the gestures Eric had made in the course of the last twenty-four hours to feel some compassion for his fear, and he decided to give him a break. After all, he didn’t expect the change to happen over night. He extended his hand. “I’m Sam Miller, Eric’s lawyer.”
Mildred took it, but dropped it quickly as Eric shook his head. “No, no he’s not.”
“He’s not?” she asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.
Sam’s eyes shot from Mildred back to Eric, who looked like he was battling for control over his faculties of speech.
“No.” Eric took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Sam is my . . . well, he’s . . . he’s my . . . uh . . . he and I . . . we’re in a relationship,” he finally managed to say.
Mildred’s eyes widened ever so slightly as she registered her understanding. “Oh, well isn’t that nice. Alright, boys, if you need anything, George and I are right across the way, okay?”
“Okay, Mildred,” Eric replied as she waved and walked away. He shut the door quickly and leaned heavily against it, his eyes closed, and Sam could swear there was actually sweat gathered on his forehead.
“How . . . how do you feel?” he asked, as it was all he could think of to say. His own eyes were still wide with surprise.
Eric glanced at him and swallowed hard. “Fine. Maybe a little hungry. These cookies should do the trick,” he said, but his pale face belied his anxiety.
“Seriously? You’re okay?” Sam pressed, his breath becoming ragged with emotion he didn’t expect to be hidden there. Strangely, he felt on the verge of tears.
“Are you going to cry?” Eric asked, now looking amused.
“What? No, of course I’m not,” Sam grumbled and rubbed at his eyes, which evidently had started to water. “I just can’t believe you . . . you just did that. It’s like you confronted your worst fear or something.”
“Then maybe you should take this from me before I drop it, because I actually am feeling a little light-headed, and I’d hate to ruin our neighbor’s stuff,” Eric joked.
“Our neighbors?” Sam laughed as he took away the plate of warm cookies and they trailed into the kitchen.
“Yes, ours,” Eric replied cheerfully, having regained his composure. “And that wasn’t my worst fear. My worst fear is being miserable for the rest of my life.”
“Well, I think that’s something we can avoid,” Sam said with a grin. “But I’m glad to hear that fear supersedes the other. It’s much more logical.”
“Yeah,” Eric agreed with a sigh. “Logical. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
Sam smirked. “I have to run,” he said, but that wasn’t what he wanted to do at all. What he wanted to do was drag Eric back upstairs and do ridiculous things to him in bed, and then hold him for the rest of the day, reveling in the fact that for once someone had decided he was worthy enough to change for and not the other way around.
Eric grabbed at his hand, awakening him from his daydream. “Wait, Sam, I have to tell you something,” he said urgently.
“Okay.” Sam tilted his head, chewing slightly on the inside of his lip in nervousness.
“Look . . . I’ll probably let you down again,” Eric began, and Sam felt his earlier elation begin to sap out of him rapidly.
“I mean, I don’t want to,” he added in a rush. “It’s just that I know I probably will, because I’m not that great at expressing . . . emotions . . . or . . . being affectionate . . .”
Sam blinked, torn between laughing out loud or running away from whatever else Eric had to say.
Eric swallowed before continuing. “But I want you to know . . . I’m not going to break your heart . . . because . . . because . . . I’m so sorry I couldn’t say it before . . . but I do. I love you, Sammy. I’d be crazy not to.” His voice had grown strangled and his eyes were pinched shut by the end of the declaration, as if it were an extremely trying task for him to utter those words. He stretched out his arms blindly, not quite reaching Sam in an embrace.
Sam balled his hand into a fist and used it to push roughly against his own eyes, wiping away the moisture that had gathered there. He knew he was about to hand over his heart again, but somehow he felt that this time it would be safe-- that they’d be safe with each other.
Stepping forward, he latched onto the waiting arms. “I love you, too.”
Eric opened his eyes and leaned in to touch Sam's lips softly. “Are you sure you want to do this with me?” he asked when he was finished with the gentle kiss. “Even if I’m kind of an asshole?”
“Yeah,” Sam replied breathlessly. “I’m sure . . . I really like this house.”
He received a punch in the shoulder as a response, but immediately afterwards they wrapped themselves in each other’s arms with the ridiculous grins of two men in love.
*********Fin
Fandom: Breakfast with Scot
Pairing: Eric/Sam
Rating: PG13ish
Summary: Beginnings story cont'd
Disclaimer: No ownership of characters of course
Link to all chapters unavez18.livejournal.com/2044.html
Sam was sitting on the couch in the living room with expectant eyes, but Eric wasn’t really sure what more to he could say at that moment to make things right between them. He fluffed a pillow and nervously sat down a ways away, being sure to maintain his physical distance in an attempt to keep his mental acuities somewhat clear. He’d already screwed up on their coffee date, from his inability to act natural with Joan-as ill-advised as her plan had been-to blurting out his desire to live with Sam. Not that he was even sure where that had come from, other than the fact that he’d been dreaming about having Sam next to him in bed since their split, and he couldn’t imagine a day would go by where he wouldn’t want Sam lying there by his side.
But he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, and now he was sure Sam was spinning the wheels in his head, trying to figure out a way to let him down gently, because, after all, Sam was that kind of guy.
From where he sat he suddenly noticed an empty pretzel bag and two beer bottles that he’d carelessly thrown under a chair a few days before. Grinning sheepishly he got up and grabbed at the items, quickly shoving them into a nearby wastebasket.
Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Didn’t take you very long to go back to your old ways, huh,” he said.
“You shoulda seen it before Joan and I cleaned up a little,” Eric began with a laugh, then clamped his mouth shut with chagrin. “Not that I’m going to be that way anymore,” he added quickly. “I mean, I’m going to pick up after myself. I know you couldn’t live in a place where . . . not that I think you’re going to live here . . . Jesus, I’m just going to stop talking now.” He sank down on the couch with his head bowed and began restlessly twisting at the fabric of his jeans.
Sam’s hand appeared in his lap then and took hold of his nervous fingers. “I don’t really mind that you’re messy,” he said, and by the time Eric turned his face Sam had already inched his way over, purposefully causing their lips to collide in a kiss.
Afterwards they smiled and kept their faces pressed up against each other for a moment. “Are we okay?” Eric whispered.
“Let’s just take things one step at a time,” Sam answered, but as he did his hand trailed to the buttons on Eric’s shirt and deftly began to undo them. Evidently, his next step was to get Eric naked.
*
Long after the fervor of the makeup sex wore off Eric found he couldn’t stop holding onto Sam. Or rather, they couldn’t stop holding on to each other. He was lying across Sam’s chest in a way he’d been longing to do for some time, but hadn’t been able to because of the cast and the strain it had put on his shoulder. One of Sam’s arms was wrapped around him and the other was casually running through his hair.
He wasn’t quite sure which part of what he’d pulled off was more shocking; that he had won Sam back, or that he had actually grown a pair and admitted that he wanted to win him back. Being alone for the rest of his life no longer seemed like a tolerable sacrifice, and even if he wasn’t entirely ready to ask the world to accept him, he’d finally come to terms with the fact that the only way he’d ever be happy was if he accepted himself.
He smiled as he listened to Sam’s heartbeat, letting the soothing rhythm lull him into a state of calm. “I can’t believe I tried to pretend I didn’t want this,” he mumbled. He knew he was bordering on the overly emotional, which wasn’t a place he went to frequently, but he figured Sam deserved the openness after what he’d put him through. “I’ve always wanted this . . . I’m so sorry I made you feel like you weren’t enough.”
He felt Sam’s chest rumble under him and looked up to see him chuckling softly. “It’s alright. It’s not like you were the first.”
Eric leaned up on his elbow and regarded Sam curiously for a moment before gently brushing back the lock of hair that had a tendency to bounce its way onto Sam’s forehead. He could see Sam’s eyes glowing with pleasure at being touched like that. “Well I hope I’m the last,” he said.
Sam’s eyes shot wide and his eyebrows approached his hairline.
“Uh,” Eric lowered his head with embarrassment, “I mean, you deserve a lot better than that, Sam. I’m not even sure how you put up with me. You’re such an incredible person . . .” he trailed off as Sam was starting to blush under his praise. “And another thing, if I ever lay eyes on this Mark guy, or your brother for that matter, I’ll show them just what I think of them. I may be injured, but I’m still a fighter.”
The responding smile started slowly-- first just a twitch of Sam's lips and then a full grin showing his white teeth and spreading to his eyes.
“Thanks,” he said.
Eric reached up and gave him a long, deep kiss, and then, even though he knew he shouldn’t press, least of all that night, he had to ask again. He didn’t think he could sleep without knowing. “Are we okay?”
Sam smiled again. “Yeah, we’re okay.”
Returning to his resting place, Eric hugged Sam tightly around his narrow chest; so tightly he heard Sam struggling to draw in air.
“You’re going to break a rib!” Sam squeaked.
“Sorry,” Eric replied, but he only relaxed his grip slightly before falling asleep.
**********
Sam woke up with a happy smile playing on his lips before he even remembered what it was for. He could hear Eric rummaging around downstairs as he got up and dressed himself quickly, thankful he’d left a shirt or two in his abrupt departure three weeks ago. But as he looped on his tie he lingered a little longer than necessary, imagining what it would be like to wake up every morning in that same room, secure in the fact that he had a home and a warm body to come back to at the end of the day.
His happily-ever-after reverie was cut short by the sight of the clock, however, which reminded him that he still had to get to work. Grabbing his jacket, he tossed it over his shoulder and pounded down the stairs, absentmindedly straightening his tie until he came upon Eric standing by the open front door with a plate of chocolate chip cookies in his hands.
Eric was smiling in a forced manner at a short, older woman with a pug nose and a surprisingly boisterous voice who was welcoming him to the neighborhood. She paused in her speech about just having returned from her Jamaican vacation with her husband George when she saw Sam standing behind Eric’s frame.
Eric turned around and gave him a nervous glance. “Uh, Mildred, this is . . . this is . . .” he began awkwardly.
At the moment, Sam was still overcome with all the gestures Eric had made in the course of the last twenty-four hours to feel some compassion for his fear, and he decided to give him a break. After all, he didn’t expect the change to happen over night. He extended his hand. “I’m Sam Miller, Eric’s lawyer.”
Mildred took it, but dropped it quickly as Eric shook his head. “No, no he’s not.”
“He’s not?” she asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.
Sam’s eyes shot from Mildred back to Eric, who looked like he was battling for control over his faculties of speech.
“No.” Eric took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “Sam is my . . . well, he’s . . . he’s my . . . uh . . . he and I . . . we’re in a relationship,” he finally managed to say.
Mildred’s eyes widened ever so slightly as she registered her understanding. “Oh, well isn’t that nice. Alright, boys, if you need anything, George and I are right across the way, okay?”
“Okay, Mildred,” Eric replied as she waved and walked away. He shut the door quickly and leaned heavily against it, his eyes closed, and Sam could swear there was actually sweat gathered on his forehead.
“How . . . how do you feel?” he asked, as it was all he could think of to say. His own eyes were still wide with surprise.
Eric glanced at him and swallowed hard. “Fine. Maybe a little hungry. These cookies should do the trick,” he said, but his pale face belied his anxiety.
“Seriously? You’re okay?” Sam pressed, his breath becoming ragged with emotion he didn’t expect to be hidden there. Strangely, he felt on the verge of tears.
“Are you going to cry?” Eric asked, now looking amused.
“What? No, of course I’m not,” Sam grumbled and rubbed at his eyes, which evidently had started to water. “I just can’t believe you . . . you just did that. It’s like you confronted your worst fear or something.”
“Then maybe you should take this from me before I drop it, because I actually am feeling a little light-headed, and I’d hate to ruin our neighbor’s stuff,” Eric joked.
“Our neighbors?” Sam laughed as he took away the plate of warm cookies and they trailed into the kitchen.
“Yes, ours,” Eric replied cheerfully, having regained his composure. “And that wasn’t my worst fear. My worst fear is being miserable for the rest of my life.”
“Well, I think that’s something we can avoid,” Sam said with a grin. “But I’m glad to hear that fear supersedes the other. It’s much more logical.”
“Yeah,” Eric agreed with a sigh. “Logical. Maybe you’re rubbing off on me.”
Sam smirked. “I have to run,” he said, but that wasn’t what he wanted to do at all. What he wanted to do was drag Eric back upstairs and do ridiculous things to him in bed, and then hold him for the rest of the day, reveling in the fact that for once someone had decided he was worthy enough to change for and not the other way around.
Eric grabbed at his hand, awakening him from his daydream. “Wait, Sam, I have to tell you something,” he said urgently.
“Okay.” Sam tilted his head, chewing slightly on the inside of his lip in nervousness.
“Look . . . I’ll probably let you down again,” Eric began, and Sam felt his earlier elation begin to sap out of him rapidly.
“I mean, I don’t want to,” he added in a rush. “It’s just that I know I probably will, because I’m not that great at expressing . . . emotions . . . or . . . being affectionate . . .”
Sam blinked, torn between laughing out loud or running away from whatever else Eric had to say.
Eric swallowed before continuing. “But I want you to know . . . I’m not going to break your heart . . . because . . . because . . . I’m so sorry I couldn’t say it before . . . but I do. I love you, Sammy. I’d be crazy not to.” His voice had grown strangled and his eyes were pinched shut by the end of the declaration, as if it were an extremely trying task for him to utter those words. He stretched out his arms blindly, not quite reaching Sam in an embrace.
Sam balled his hand into a fist and used it to push roughly against his own eyes, wiping away the moisture that had gathered there. He knew he was about to hand over his heart again, but somehow he felt that this time it would be safe-- that they’d be safe with each other.
Stepping forward, he latched onto the waiting arms. “I love you, too.”
Eric opened his eyes and leaned in to touch Sam's lips softly. “Are you sure you want to do this with me?” he asked when he was finished with the gentle kiss. “Even if I’m kind of an asshole?”
“Yeah,” Sam replied breathlessly. “I’m sure . . . I really like this house.”
He received a punch in the shoulder as a response, but immediately afterwards they wrapped themselves in each other’s arms with the ridiculous grins of two men in love.
*********Fin