gifts freely given;

He’d been praying for the go ahead. The text to confirm that Samson was no longer being held on his own, free to walk the halls, free to go back to the room he shared with Lucas. The proof that he was safe. He tried not to think too heavily on how much he needed that message, to know that they’d both be able to relax again.

Leon didn’t bother replying to the message. The minute he knew? He was slipping away from his own room, and instead stopping off in the pair’s room.

[txt;samson] See you in a minute.

And so, he waited.

@letxtherebelight​

Lucas removed the protective gear as fast as he could. Even one minute felt too long for Samson to wait. Once he was back on t-shirt and jeans, he got out of the staff room and shut it behind him, grinned at Samson and wrapped his arm around the man’s waist. “Come on,” Lucas walked out of the medical ward with his roommate, “I am pretty sure he is waiting too.”

They have never talked about this. Still, they both knew they had a mutual attraction to Leon. Instead of complicating things, they let things play out the way it did. Lucas has never imagined himself to be a believer in polygamy, yet, the relationship between the three of them somehow felt like the most natural thing. It worked, for the three of them.

Lucas was happy to see Leon already waiting in front of their room by the time they made it back to their corridor. He grinned, pushed Samson toward the man as he fished the key out from his back pocket and unlocked the door. 

@untilvoid​

even if it wasn’t clear to the others, samson knew how he felt about both men. what they meant to him, especially after spending those weeks without them. waiting for lucas to change was nothing, since he knew what was waiting for them, deeper into the building.

as soon as leon came into view, samson charged him just like he did lucas. a near-tackle, with arms and tendrils wrapping around, the latter wrapping again and again, pulling them tight together. samson buried his face in leon’s neck, letting out a trembling breath, as lucas got the door in order.

“--I missed you,” he said softly, as his hands slid down to leon’s hips. “both of you,” to lucas behind him. “my plan was for all of us to talk in a few days, after I got home from work, but the attack, and I had to get home.” he looked into leon’s eyes, his usually cool exterior somewhat cracked. “I didn’t want you two to worry.”

his immediate welcome was more gentle in nature -- but with dante’s response, he knew some form of storm was coming. and he’d earned it. he broke protocol. his actions reflected on dante, and whether or not the man was reprimanded for his return to the base during lockdown, samson didn’t think it mattered.

he broke trust.

so, samson made his way to the emergency chamber, combat-ready, head held high. he would face what consequences came with his decision. (despite any...soreness in particular regions.) rather than hesitate, he badged his way in as soon as he’d arrived, not giving himself time to fret or reconsider.

“I am sorry, Samson. I shouldn’t have done that.” Lucas was quick to put the smile away, worried his little joke might have backfired. “But you are good. You are fine.” He reached out with his arms, pulled Samson close and pressed their bodies against each other. Slowly, he removed the protective mask from his head, felt the cold fresh air and breathed it in.

“You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Lucas buried his face against Samson’s neck. He missed Samson’s scent. His body warmth help Lucas settled. For the past two weeks, it felt like he has been missing a piece of his life. A void that even the heavy workload couldn’t fill or help him to ignore.

 No more. No longer.

“Let’s go home,” Lucas said gently, “Back to our room. You should text Leon, tell him to join us. He was worried sick too.”

all samson did was squeeze lucas harder, wrapping and re-wrapping his arms around the man, as if he could somehow pull him closer. lucas was warm against him, even through all the layers -- cloth, plastic, proof of the separation that led them to the moment.

“I’m not. I never was. I knew you were waiting for me.” samson pulled back, only to look into lucas’ eyes. “both of you.”

samson let himself take one kiss -- just a quick one, but firm, enough to almost feel stolen.

“I’ll do it while we walk.” everything samson had in the room, was borrowed, save for his clothes. he left it as it was, sliding an arm around lucas’ back as they walked, and he pulled his phone out with the other.

[txt:leon] Lucas came and got me. I’m out.

@untilvoid​

“Samson, the result is out.” Lucas walked in, his form covered in protective gear. He wasn’t making eye contact with Samson, eyes down with a tight grip at the file in his hands. Of course, the results. It was the end of Samson’s isolation and this was the moment where they had to find out whether Samson was infected by the pollens or not.

“…There are a few immediate actions we will have to do,” Lucas said, his voice was low, yet clear and professional, “A few options, but first, we have to…Samson, I am so sorry,” He finally looked at the man, paused for a second before he continued.

“I am afraid you have no choice but to pack your things and move back into our room at once.”

Unable to hold it any longer, Lucas’ lips widened into a smile, which quickly became a grin.

“Results are negative. You are as healthy as a person with shadow tendrils gets. You are free to leave this room as long as you promise to not break any more quarantine protocols.”

he made it in.

samson almost desperately looked up at lucas, even in all the protection gear. the apology made his heart sink, but it made sense. he took a risk, to try not to worry the ones he cared about. but at least one of them was giving him the news...

until the smile. samson charged from the bed, tackling lucas with so much force, he almost knocked him back into the bare, concrete wall.

his chest shook, breaths a little shaky against the bulkier male, arms and tendrils squeezing tight around.

“--please don’t do that,” he said, softly -- his voice breaking, just a little. “I trust you too much to not fall for it.”

In many ways, that was where they were similar, like two sides of the same coin. He and Devrim were separate beings with individual thoughts, feelings, wants, desires, and even though they came from different origins, they were also one. In the same way, with him and Lucas — light and dark; one cannot exist without the other. There was that constant push and pull, like the tides, or the cycle of life and death, or Ea (ᛠ) as Devrim was inclined to give it a name.

Empyrean was appreciative of Samson’s response and ease of following orders, he didn’t want to step in if he didn’t have to. The mentor looked at the unfolding events clinically, and eventually the other was laid bare before his steel eyes. Nudity did not phase him, and were it not for social constructs he would not have bothered with ‘clothes’, real or imagined into existence by molecules. His other self would have afforded the man a degree of privacy and turned away till something happened — but Empyrean would not be doing his due diligence if he were to miss anything. A split second twitch was all it would take.

The med-techs proceeded to prod at Samson, taking samples of skin, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids; checking his vitals, his statistics and the like. Most of these were to be sent for deeper analysis and testing, but he could already see some of them already working their centrifuges and microscopes for the quick and dirty version, wanting Samson to be in the clear just as much as anyone else.

the similarities were lost on samson -- all he understood were the differences. empyrean’s light, to his own darkness. mentor, as opposed to protege. two distinct entities, instead of one that acted with almost two minds.

tacit approval, at least, was a start. he didn’t want empyrean to dislike him -- his proximity to lucas meant risking the two’s potential partnership. for lucas’ sake, he’d bear whatever he needed to, from empyrean.

after the examination, the medical staff sigh a collective immediate relief -- but the tension still isn’t gone. they depart from the room to confer where samson can’t hear them, leaving him alone with empyrean, once more. samson doesn’t try to cover himself, from his slightly furred chest, down to the line from his navel to the bush above his idle cock. he was laid back, head staring at the ceiling.

@letxtherebelight -- @heroicvanish

samson always believed he was an introvert.

“with me in isolation, I don’t know what could be going on with the rest of the advocates. and I don’t own lucas. nobody does. if he wants to have sex with lazav, then what reason would I have to stop him?”

it’s not safe. ian’s not well. the memory of the ache in his hand whispers of a deeper pain, simply transferred from one party to another. lazav is a psychic. what does it mean? what does it mean? what does it mean?

“I trust ian. as long as lucas is a consenting party.”

why are my shadows so agitated?

It wasn’t Samson’s presence he loathe, at least not really. Just the extensions of his very self. The entity’s trepidation over the darkness, what it represented to him (and him alone) was not quantifiable — Devrim didn’t exact have an issue with it like he did, but their bond was enough to cause the ex-astronaut hardship. They were in essence one and the same person, no matter how much they differed.

He knew the shadows that Samson possessed weren’t actively going to hurt him, but a lot of this was the reactionary nature that was deep rooted in him way back before he even was a him. Before he actually could speak or utter words. Before he could feel and touch. Before he’d transformed from mere star stuff and molecules held together by the burning power within him into a living breathing thing. 

“Till they clear you. Probably at least a few — one or two — hours at most if you’re not infected.” Empyrean gestured at the doctor and nurses who just affirmed his sentiment. There had to be some tension from their earlier interaction in the room that they were actively trying to ignore so they could do their damn jobs. The entity pulled a nearby chair towards him and sat down, giving the reins over to the medical staff while he watched with unblinking eyes.

samson could bear empyrean’s ire -- regardless of where it was aimed. as he saw it, himself and the shadows were ‘one’, for lack of any other way to interpret. this was in the name of protecting the advocates. he’d broken protocol, even if it was for, what he felt, was the right reasons. this was what he’d earned.

“understood, sir.”

the cold stare was met with one of samson’s own, until the doctors and nurses, masked and gloved as they were, blocked empyrean from sight. samson was stripped, layer by layer, each article of clothing isolated for testing. even his leather apron was hung up on its own, until he was laid naked on the table, not moving to cover himself at the slightest. his hands were at his sides, palms flat on the cold metal, no matter how many goosebumps rose on his skin.

[txt] Lucas, what’s wrong?

“Don’t fret. You would, of course, be allowed to play with my pets.“

Throughout his life of fighting crime, Dante had seen dozens of heroes in a variety of shapes and sizes. Their body type didn’t matter nor did their social skill. Ultimately he only cared for their resolve and dedication to justice. Samson might not have been a social butterfly but he appeared to have a heart of gold which was what really mattered to Dante. “Alright then, it’s settled. I’ll put in a word to Torque and I’ll get that sorted out. I gotta nab you fast before one of the other mentors gets ya.” He reached up, giving the lanky hero a pat on his cheek. “This is gonna take some getting used to. My last protege was a dwarf in comparison.” Dante playfully made a face, withdrawing his hand. 

the hand on his cheek, samson turned into it, a little. having someone to look up to -- not just a leader, but someone assigned, someone he knew would say what they meant, would take time to work with him, rather than watching and waiting on the sidelines, not wanting to ask?

after a few beats, samson felt his breathing picking up. he took a few seconds, but he made an unsure step towards dante. then another. a third, and he got close enough to put his arms around dante’s sides, turning his face away as he rested it briefling on dante’s shoulder. 

“--thank you. for taking a chance, on me.”