Briefcase Buddies

04,01,2020

Sam: So, let me get this straight. From everything you've just told me, you'll eat liverwurst-

Guy: Yep.

Sam: Horseradish-

Guy: Yep.

Sam: Regular pickled eggs-

Guy: Yep.

Sam: Your pizza, macaroni and beef stews slathered in ketchup-

Guy: Yep, yep and yep.

Sam: But you find green eggs and ham too gross to try.

Guy: Yep.

Sam: *exasperated laugh*

Ok y’all already talked about how the “there’s only one room left, you’ll have to share” fic trope is in Green Eggs and Ham...but why is no one talking about this other fic trope? The one where Person A&B are stuck in a box or other tightly enclosed space?

Not a single soul:

Sam:

After looking pretty much everywhere, turning the kitchen upside down and tearing drawers from cupboards, Sam clicks his tongue in distaste, whirling round to throw his hands up and holler.

  “Guy? Best boyfriend of mine! Have you seen my special fork?”

  The knox in question pokes his head around the door frame, taking a moment to arch his brows at the chaos that has become their kitchen. He sighs in exasperation, gingerly stepping into the room to weave his way through the destruction.

  “Maybe before combusting our kitchen, you should have asked me first. I did the dishes and cleaned it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wash it…” Guy drawls, and Sam visibly perks up, throwing himself into his seat at their kitchen table. Plates of green eggs and ham steam lazily, filling the air with an all too familiar eggy aroma.

  “I choose to live in the moment! Now let’s have breakfast, I’m starving, and the eggs are a particularly scrumptious green today!” he beams in excitement, pumping his fists gleefully as Guy retrieves his special fork. The knox hands it to him as he moves to take his seat, and Sam does a little dance before preparing to dive right in, brandishing his fork.

  But he stops, caught off guard as something dangles off the utensil, glinting in the morning sunlight.

  A ring. Gleaming gold, with a humble diamond that refracts the light in rainbow colours.

  Sam gawks at it, lost for words, and it only gets harder to form coherent words or thoughts as he realizes Guy has pushed some of the debris away and sunk down to one knee beside him, a nervous, lopsided grin on his face. That smile that has Sam’s stomach doing backflips.

  “Samuel I Amuel?”

  This was actually happening. Sam’s heart seems to explode in his chest, rising up into his throat, making his eyes sting.

  “I was wondering if you’d… give me a try, as your husband? Would you marry me-”

  Before the words are even properly out of his mouth Sam bodily launches himself at his beloved grump, throwing his arms around him to hug him with such force that Guy is sent sprawling backwards, fighting for breath.

“Oooooh my lovable grrrrrumph, yes! Yes, yes, yes, a zillion times yes!“

-

Guy’s brain came to a screeching halt as Sam’s lips pressed forcefully against his. How had they gone from admitting lifelong failures and traumas to each other to a kiss!?

That’s when a thought came to him. If Sam really had grown up in an orphanage, had no family, had no friends, he was most likely starving for some sort of physical contact.

Sam needed this.

"You're a ballerina!?"

"I mean, ballerino, 'cause I'm a boy, but yeah. Did you think I was born with these legs?"

"I thought you did martial arts!"

"Nah, I use a ninja suit but it's just for stealth. I never wanted to hurt anyone, just be sneaky and flexible. Every profession that requires good balance and flexibility said ballet or gymnastics did wonders for their work. Since I was poor growing up, I couldn't afford gymnastics but the community center had free ballet lessons every week."

"Were you any good?"

"Have you not seen my mad skills in action?"

"I mean did you ever do anything with it? Make a name, you know?"

"Oh. Well, I was dancing to get better at traveling and doing jobs to find my mom, you know? And I'd be lying if I said I'd never considered. It could have worked to help find her but I'd have needed money I didn't have to get started and more time than I was willing to put in. Plus, dancers have super strict diets I'd have never been able to adhere to!"

"...would you dance for me sometime?"

Husband: Stands up.

Husband: Sits back down.