Sam and her boys, 7b: Life, PG13, Sam/Jack/Siler
Back to Chapter 7a: Retirement
or to Chapter 1 for info
To read it all the chapters on one page, click here
Summary: Flowers
Chapter 7b: Life (PG13)
AN: Still not wholly satisfied with this.. but much thanks to kirsty841 for the help cleaning it up from it s messy state
Strolling into the bedroom while listening to Sam and Jack chit chat downstairs, Siler saw the red roses on two of the pillows and his breath caught just slightly for a second before a grin broke out on his lips, more than a little surprised at his own reaction. Sam had walked through the door just as Siler started up the stairs; there was only one person who could have put the flowers there.
Although even *he* hadn't thought to buy any bouquets since that first time, several *months* ago now. Wincing and making a mental note to rectify that, soon, Siler nonetheless was quite sure the dustiness he'd encountered on that vase meant that Jack was even worse at that particular romantic gesture. And yet, there those perfect buds were. Sitting, not quite on 'his and Sam's' pillows, but that was only because somehow they were all as likely to end up in the centre of that bed; no pillow belonged to anyone. For that matter, going to the bathroom in the middle of the night often meant finding his previous spot taken. Luckily he was just as happy sleeping between them as wrapped around one or the other.
His eyes wandered to the rest of the room; the side tables that held a reflective mix of Sam's hand cream, Jack's heat rub, *his* painkillers -and that only by virtue of his needing them more often-. Two alarms that he and Sam went back and forth on, wallets, keys, change, pocket pens, watches, jewelry... All mixed up on the assorted surfaces.
Slowly stripping out of his smelly work clothes, Siler kept staring, unable to remember the details of the room as it had been when he'd first set foot in it, thinking that he was just a friendly guest. Had, just *maybe*, found some friends with benefits with whom the friendship was as important as the benefits. But *never*, for even one second, considering that he'd soon have a toothbrush next to the sink and his college ring in a peanut tin with a pair of Jack's cuff links and some wire nuts he'd found in his pocket one night and never remembered to take with him in the morning.
He hadn't noticed *when* it had changed; when they'd, wordlessly and unobtrusively, made an easy place for him in their already complicated life. Staring in the closet, where a noticeable sprinkling of blue jumpsuits broke up the mostly plain-coloured, simple-cut male shirts, still well held at bay by the multi-hued, multi-shaped apparent chaos that was Sam's personal apparel and uniforms, he had no hesitation -didn't even think about- reaching in and taking a random shirt. Hell, he was so used to Jack's larger ones lately that he had to stop and pay attention before he could call this one his. He'd even grabbed boxers often enough by accident that Jack had stopped separating them in the now *two* drawers they shared...
He had hidden stashes in the kitchen of his emergency rations -that Jack would steal, given a chance-, the general had actually switched to Siler's shaving gel, and the smell of Jack's shampoo was as familiar as his own. More so. He'd even been known to borrow the electric shaver, especially after a Friday or two when Sam had given away her appreciation of the not-so-close shave, at least when she didn't have to go to work the next day...
Huh. The reality wasn't half as scary as the words 'living with them' had been, just a few days ago.
He was downright smiling as he gave the hand-razor's blades a wipe with the old toothbrush he kept out of the way behind the tightly-arrayed bottles of mystery Sam-things; since Jack had the annoying habit of leaving it filled with hairs. Siler'd cut himself with it all of *once* before he started checking it before use. He supposed it should piss him off.. and it did, some days. Especially when he'd discovered the state the lawnmower's engine was in; he'd almost blown up at *both* of them for that one. But he also knew damn well that Jack wished he'd take mothering better, and that Sam wanted to smack him for leaving his boots laying haphazardly all the time.
Sly Siler in a real relationship. There were people who'd kill themselves laughing at the idea. Including his younger self.
None of that mattered when, most of the time, what he remembered was just about always falling asleep so fucking satisfied that he couldn't even make himself think about planning the next day's work. Not to mention getting to tease the hell out of both of them any time he had the urge.
And morning cuddles. Those two had seriously addicted him to cuddling. Taking a couple seconds to brush the razor clean just wasn't a big deal compared to the hours that they spent together. And one of his favourite memories was the afternoon he'd rebuilt that poor old two-stroke engine with Sam; sitting on a tarp in the driveway under the warm sun, with Jack safely off to the side, watching them as his fingers played with some twisted pieces of metal Sam apparently kept around for the purpose. The smell of grease, gasoline and some neighbour cutting *his* grass had soaked into him right along with Sam's laughter and Jack's needling. Heaven by any other name, even though he'd never have conceived of it on his own.
Cleaned, dressed and about to go back downstairs, he gave the nearest flower a twisted grin and gave into the temptation to pick it up.
Walking into the kitchen, he found the reason Sam hadn't come upstairs: she'd weaselled fresh coffee out of their houseman. Which had no doubt been terribly painful; Siler smirked to himself at the thought. He dropped a nuzzle on the crown of her head where she sat at the table watching Jack pulling the makings of supper onto the counter.
"Hey."
Her welcoming smile made Siler rethink his itinerary; he kept his hand down by his thigh and took the offered puckered lips, grinning at the gritty dust he got from the corner of her mouth, "You need a shower, colonel-ma'am." He stole another kiss from her pout before winking and continuing on his way.
Instead of going straight for a much-anticipated cold beer, he stopped by the man prepping wings. Ignoring both the distracted grunt of acknowledgement and the questioning look for his stopping, he leaned over and snuck a hand to Jack's pant-zipper for a fondle. Siler grinned into the responding raised brow, bringing the rose out of hiding and up to slide the soft petals from the hollow of the now fully-attentive general's throat to his lips. Jack's breath caught and Siler muttered into his ear a teasing 'Sap', hearing Sam hum appreciatively behind him.
The twitch of the general's shoulders made Siler think of an aborted hunch as the man cleared his throat with a slightly defencive glower.
Then he suddenly smirked, eyes clearing as he obviously came up with a good cover story, and Siler's smile widened, waiting patiently as he continued to stroke Jack's throat and cheeks lightly.
"What? You've been coming home so wiped you're not even in the mood," he shrugged elaborately as Siler gapped at him and Sam failed to choke back giggles, "I read somewhere that flowers and food are supposed to help-" Siler had finally recovered from the unexpected blandishment and wrapped his hand around the general's jaw, pulling his lips over with a growl. The kiss hardly merited the name since they were both chuckling within seconds and couldn't get a proper lock on each other, in the end giving in and simply leaning forehead to forehead and smirking at each other.
"Five-year-olds."
The tenderness in Sam's voice as she suddenly appeared besides them was matched by her touch as she peeled back Siler's hand to take the thorny stem away and kiss the light scratches it left on Jack's cheek and Siler's palm. Siler pulled his hand back to wrap it around her waist, just to touch; sliding his other from Jack's crotch to his lower back. Listening as Sam teasingly congratulated Jack for following Siler's good romance example; the needling deflected by her using the rose herself to make him shiver, standing tightly close in the circle of their bodies.
Yeah. Cuddles. And teasing and sex. If *this* was 'living together'... maybe he'd been missing something all these years after all.
Next in the verse is Chapter 8: Of home and friendship
or to Chapter 1 for info
To read it all the chapters on one page, click here
Summary: Flowers
Chapter 7b: Life (PG13)
AN: Still not wholly satisfied with this.. but much thanks to kirsty841 for the help cleaning it up from it s messy state
Strolling into the bedroom while listening to Sam and Jack chit chat downstairs, Siler saw the red roses on two of the pillows and his breath caught just slightly for a second before a grin broke out on his lips, more than a little surprised at his own reaction. Sam had walked through the door just as Siler started up the stairs; there was only one person who could have put the flowers there.
Although even *he* hadn't thought to buy any bouquets since that first time, several *months* ago now. Wincing and making a mental note to rectify that, soon, Siler nonetheless was quite sure the dustiness he'd encountered on that vase meant that Jack was even worse at that particular romantic gesture. And yet, there those perfect buds were. Sitting, not quite on 'his and Sam's' pillows, but that was only because somehow they were all as likely to end up in the centre of that bed; no pillow belonged to anyone. For that matter, going to the bathroom in the middle of the night often meant finding his previous spot taken. Luckily he was just as happy sleeping between them as wrapped around one or the other.
His eyes wandered to the rest of the room; the side tables that held a reflective mix of Sam's hand cream, Jack's heat rub, *his* painkillers -and that only by virtue of his needing them more often-. Two alarms that he and Sam went back and forth on, wallets, keys, change, pocket pens, watches, jewelry... All mixed up on the assorted surfaces.
Slowly stripping out of his smelly work clothes, Siler kept staring, unable to remember the details of the room as it had been when he'd first set foot in it, thinking that he was just a friendly guest. Had, just *maybe*, found some friends with benefits with whom the friendship was as important as the benefits. But *never*, for even one second, considering that he'd soon have a toothbrush next to the sink and his college ring in a peanut tin with a pair of Jack's cuff links and some wire nuts he'd found in his pocket one night and never remembered to take with him in the morning.
He hadn't noticed *when* it had changed; when they'd, wordlessly and unobtrusively, made an easy place for him in their already complicated life. Staring in the closet, where a noticeable sprinkling of blue jumpsuits broke up the mostly plain-coloured, simple-cut male shirts, still well held at bay by the multi-hued, multi-shaped apparent chaos that was Sam's personal apparel and uniforms, he had no hesitation -didn't even think about- reaching in and taking a random shirt. Hell, he was so used to Jack's larger ones lately that he had to stop and pay attention before he could call this one his. He'd even grabbed boxers often enough by accident that Jack had stopped separating them in the now *two* drawers they shared...
He had hidden stashes in the kitchen of his emergency rations -that Jack would steal, given a chance-, the general had actually switched to Siler's shaving gel, and the smell of Jack's shampoo was as familiar as his own. More so. He'd even been known to borrow the electric shaver, especially after a Friday or two when Sam had given away her appreciation of the not-so-close shave, at least when she didn't have to go to work the next day...
Huh. The reality wasn't half as scary as the words 'living with them' had been, just a few days ago.
He was downright smiling as he gave the hand-razor's blades a wipe with the old toothbrush he kept out of the way behind the tightly-arrayed bottles of mystery Sam-things; since Jack had the annoying habit of leaving it filled with hairs. Siler'd cut himself with it all of *once* before he started checking it before use. He supposed it should piss him off.. and it did, some days. Especially when he'd discovered the state the lawnmower's engine was in; he'd almost blown up at *both* of them for that one. But he also knew damn well that Jack wished he'd take mothering better, and that Sam wanted to smack him for leaving his boots laying haphazardly all the time.
Sly Siler in a real relationship. There were people who'd kill themselves laughing at the idea. Including his younger self.
None of that mattered when, most of the time, what he remembered was just about always falling asleep so fucking satisfied that he couldn't even make himself think about planning the next day's work. Not to mention getting to tease the hell out of both of them any time he had the urge.
And morning cuddles. Those two had seriously addicted him to cuddling. Taking a couple seconds to brush the razor clean just wasn't a big deal compared to the hours that they spent together. And one of his favourite memories was the afternoon he'd rebuilt that poor old two-stroke engine with Sam; sitting on a tarp in the driveway under the warm sun, with Jack safely off to the side, watching them as his fingers played with some twisted pieces of metal Sam apparently kept around for the purpose. The smell of grease, gasoline and some neighbour cutting *his* grass had soaked into him right along with Sam's laughter and Jack's needling. Heaven by any other name, even though he'd never have conceived of it on his own.
Cleaned, dressed and about to go back downstairs, he gave the nearest flower a twisted grin and gave into the temptation to pick it up.
Walking into the kitchen, he found the reason Sam hadn't come upstairs: she'd weaselled fresh coffee out of their houseman. Which had no doubt been terribly painful; Siler smirked to himself at the thought. He dropped a nuzzle on the crown of her head where she sat at the table watching Jack pulling the makings of supper onto the counter.
"Hey."
Her welcoming smile made Siler rethink his itinerary; he kept his hand down by his thigh and took the offered puckered lips, grinning at the gritty dust he got from the corner of her mouth, "You need a shower, colonel-ma'am." He stole another kiss from her pout before winking and continuing on his way.
Instead of going straight for a much-anticipated cold beer, he stopped by the man prepping wings. Ignoring both the distracted grunt of acknowledgement and the questioning look for his stopping, he leaned over and snuck a hand to Jack's pant-zipper for a fondle. Siler grinned into the responding raised brow, bringing the rose out of hiding and up to slide the soft petals from the hollow of the now fully-attentive general's throat to his lips. Jack's breath caught and Siler muttered into his ear a teasing 'Sap', hearing Sam hum appreciatively behind him.
The twitch of the general's shoulders made Siler think of an aborted hunch as the man cleared his throat with a slightly defencive glower.
Then he suddenly smirked, eyes clearing as he obviously came up with a good cover story, and Siler's smile widened, waiting patiently as he continued to stroke Jack's throat and cheeks lightly.
"What? You've been coming home so wiped you're not even in the mood," he shrugged elaborately as Siler gapped at him and Sam failed to choke back giggles, "I read somewhere that flowers and food are supposed to help-" Siler had finally recovered from the unexpected blandishment and wrapped his hand around the general's jaw, pulling his lips over with a growl. The kiss hardly merited the name since they were both chuckling within seconds and couldn't get a proper lock on each other, in the end giving in and simply leaning forehead to forehead and smirking at each other.
"Five-year-olds."
The tenderness in Sam's voice as she suddenly appeared besides them was matched by her touch as she peeled back Siler's hand to take the thorny stem away and kiss the light scratches it left on Jack's cheek and Siler's palm. Siler pulled his hand back to wrap it around her waist, just to touch; sliding his other from Jack's crotch to his lower back. Listening as Sam teasingly congratulated Jack for following Siler's good romance example; the needling deflected by her using the rose herself to make him shiver, standing tightly close in the circle of their bodies.
Yeah. Cuddles. And teasing and sex. If *this* was 'living together'... maybe he'd been missing something all these years after all.
Next in the verse is Chapter 8: Of home and friendship