#findingherown

of course! the prompt is here

abigail: blanket forts and twinkling lights, the warmth of the sun for the first time after a week of rain, soft hair on your skin

they’re not friends who talk all the time

but from the time they first talk, jean just knows he can call or text her about anything

he doesn’t talk to her for days

then one day, practice is too much and he goes back to his room - too empty, too silent, too stark - and dials her number before he even thinks about it

they don’t talk about what happens

she tells him about her day and he just feels warm inside

this happens infrequently, but it’s enough for jean that he can just sit and close his eyes and feel warm

he can forget the reality of the nest

it’s why he lets her take him from the nest when things get too bad

he trusts her in a way he’s never trusted anyone else

when he’s settled with the trojans, warm isn’t a foreign concept anymore

everyone’s nice to him, he can see and feel the sun on his skin whenever he wants to, and people actually care about him

but he still calls renee

he can tell her about his day, too, and she sounds genuinely happy for him

now they can also meet up

and they do, when they can

they meet for coffee, to explore a new city, to discuss books and cute people

oh god if i were you i’d evaluate the situation? like…. is the reason ur scared bc she may be homophobic???? or something similar????????? because i mean there’s always the chance it’ll all be okay too u cant lose ur hope !!!!!! and maybe u could explain how important ur friendship is too and that u wouldnt jeopardize that if u could avoid it?? 

Sam laid on his back, text book covering his face to block the sun from his eyes. When he was a kid, Sam spent more time traveling around the mid west than anywhere else, so the summer heat of California was difficult for him. Even worse, Sam couldn't take his shirt off like his friends because of all the scars running down his body. He'd already had the awkward conversation about them with his roommate, Brady, he did not want to explain them again to the rest of his friends.

Brady himself was in the park along with Sam, though he was playing soccer with a few of their friends. He'd long since taken his shirt off, dumping it on Sam's head before charging off again. From behind his book, Sam watched Brady run around with Luis. Sweat was just dripping off him, but Sam’s attraction could not be swayed.

Jess was laid by Sam’s side, wearing only a bikini stop and a mini skirt. Her long hair was tied back and pushed out of her face by her sunglasses. Sam definitely needed some of those, not just to protect his eyes from the sun but there were some good spying opportunities that came with the dark lenses. While Sam carefully peeked at Brady, Jess had her eyes on Sam.

“You like him, don’t you?” She accused.

“What, who?” Sam spluttered. “Brady? No, no. Of course not. He’s my roommate, that’d be weird.”

“You’re being weird,” Jess replied with a shrug. “Shame though, you’d make a cute couple.” Biting her lip, Jess went back to reading her magazine, an art magazine run by a local gallery. It took a second for Sam to realise what Jess had said.

“We’d make a cute couple?” He asked. With a smile, Jess put her magazine back down on the grass.

“Yes, you would,” she replied adamantly. “So get up and go play some soccer with Luis and Tyson and the rest.”

Following Jess’ advice, the next time they took a break Sam asked if he could join the game. Before anyone could say yes, Brady pulled Sam onto his team, claiming it was only fair they got the muscles, considering Luis’ friend Kurt played soccer semi-professionally. It made sense to Sam, though a little part of him hoped that wasn’t the only reason Brady wanted Sam.

By the time they got to another break, Sam was wiped. Despite his years of training, trying to keep up with Kurt and Luis was a task and half. It didn’t help that Sam barely knew the rules of soccer. He kept getting called out by Becky for being offside, whatever that meant. Either way, Brady kept teasing him because of it - still Sam didn’t particularly mind.

“C’mon, Sammy,” Brady called across the pitch. “I know you can do better! All that effort you put into your grades, surely you can figure out how to kick a damn ball.”

“Shut up, Brady,” Sam yelled back. “It’s an English sport, a stupid one as well. I never learned this shit growing up.” Brady kicked the ball over to Sam, who was able to successfully pass it to one of Brady’s friends from his sociology class. Triumphantly, Sam stuck his tongue out at his roommate.

“Well done,” Brady clapped sarcastically. “One pass, one single pass. Meanwhile Kurt has scored 3 goals in the last 15 minutes.” They were a lot closer together now, stood only inches apart.

“Brady, shut the fuck up and leave Bigfoot alone,” sociology-guy snapped. He got in between the two of them and pushed them apart, sending Brady to strike and leaving Sam in defence. He seemed to fare a lot better in defence, stopping Kurt from pushing through too often. Despite this, when Becky blew her whistle, Sam decided to sit out the next part of the game so he could try and pick up on the rules.

“You were great out there, Sam,” Jess grinned. “Brady was totally checking out your moves, by the way.”

“He wasn’t,” Sam shook her off. “I was barely making any moves. I suck at soccer, let’s be honest.”

“Alright you were terrible,” Jess laughed. “But Brady was checking you out regardless.” Brady turned around at that moment to find both Jess and Sam staring at him. Embarrassment took over Sam, and he quickly looked away, but Jess smiled and waved at him.

“I’m just gonna study some history,” Sam grumbled, picking his textbook back up. “Maybe go crawl in a hole and die.”

“Stop being dramatic, you idiot,” Jess punched Sam’s arm. “You’ll end up dating, trust me.”

Sam wanted to believe her, he did, but he could barely believe Brady was into anything other than pretty girls. During all their late night conversations, the topic of sexuality had never been broached, but Brady had detailed Sam his first time, with his then girlfriend on their prom night in junior year. Which meant that Brady was definitely into girls - whether he was straight or bi was a different question.

Sam spent the next hours alternating between studying for his finals and playing soccer with his friends. At one point, Jess decided to jump around, pretending to be his personal cheerleader. He was grateful, because with Sam on their side, morale on Brady’s team was low. In the end, Kurt and Luis' team won, though they quit when Kurt had to leave for work.

Instead they sat on the field and traded anecdotes. Sam didn't have much to share outside of hunting with his family, so stayed mostly quiet. Brady noticed, but didn't push Sam to talk, just subtly held his hand in comfort.

When the sun started going down, the sky turning a pastel pink, Brady and Sam began to walk back to their dorm. The temperature had dropped enough for Sam to get goosebumps on his arms, but Brady was still topless, his shirt tucked into the waistband of his shorts. As they walked through the quad, Brady wrapped his arm around Sam's waist - almost guiding him as they moved through the campus. There was a comfortable silence between them; every so often, Brady would tell Sam a joke to which they would both laugh.

They soon got back to their apartment, Brady pulled away from Sam and flopped face down on his bed. Sam sat on the edge of his, placing his history textbook on his pillow. From the corner of his eye, Brady was watching Sam carefully. Coughing, he turned to Sam, catching his roommates attention.

"Sam?" Brady started. There was a soft sigh from him, and he pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked so serious so sudden, Sam felt his heart catch in his throat. Was Brady upset with him? "Sam... I know you were staring at me earlier. When we were playing soccer, I mean."

Sam's eyes widened with fear. He'd fucked up, Brady was gonna kick him out of their dorm, he was going to lose all of his friends. Hastily, Sam tried to splutter out a response, but Brady put his hand on Sam's arm to calm him.

"Chill, dude," Brady laughed, smile wide on his face. "I just wanted to tell you I didn't mind."

"You didn't?" Sam questioned hopefully.

"I didn't, Sam," Brady promised. He reached forward and took hold of Sam's hand. "In fact, I don't think I'd mind if you did a little more than stared."

Without much more warning Brady was knelt in front of Sam, between his legs, inches away from Sam's face. A second later, and Brady surged forward to kiss Sam on the lips. For a moment, Sam was too stunned to respond, but he soon melted into the sensation, kissing his roommate back. Within minutes, Brady had gotten Sam on his back and was leaning over him. He slipped his hand under Sam's shirt, gently stroking his sides, which caused Sam to tense and push Brady away.

"Sam?" Brady frowned. "Is this because of the scars? 'Cause you gotta know I don't care. You're beautiful."

"Brady, it's not that, it's-" Sam sighed, wiping a hand down his face. He didn't know how to explain it to Brady, because it would probably be a deal breaker for them. "Look, Brady, I'm asexual. I don't - I don't feel sexual attraction to people, sex isn't something I particularly enjoy. I get that you probably won't want to date me because of it-"

"Sam, stop talking," Brady shook his head. "If I was in this for the sex, I would have hit it and quit it months ago. I like you, really like you, and I'd still love to give this a go."

"Really?" Sam asked. It had never gone this well for him before, and Sam was genuinely surprised.