"You'll be fine, yeah? I told you, Bobby's chill." In a Bobby way, anyway. Sam approached the door and knocked it in the known pattern. It took a little bit before Bobby opened, so Sam explained it to Harry. "He's a bit slow sometimes, with the chair."
"I ain't deaf though, you idjit," Bobby said, having opened the door at just the wrong point. Sam was trying to defend himself and Bobby waved it off, turning his focus to Harry. "Did that idjit not tell you to dress properly? Get inside, son, I ain't heating for the coyotes."
Sam walked inside with Harry, pulling the door close behind them. "That's Harry, Bobby. And that's Bobby."
"Think he's put that together." Bobby held a hand out to Harry. "Welcome. Had a tough ride?"
Bobby was definitely as described, though Harry had no idea what to make of him. Usually people didn't yell nicely at him so that was definitely new. He walked into the room and started to take off his shoes, not wanting to track snow and gravel into the house. Once they were off, he held out his hand. He didn't know how to do casual handshakes so he shook hands like a business man. "Hello, thank you. It wasn't too bad, no."
It was pretty crappy but he didn't regret it. He finally got to experience the all American road trip. Complete with weird diners and some strange roadside attractions.
Harry wasn't really a self conscious person, he didn't have much issue socialising but the sudden pressure of this being basically Sam's dad got to him a little so he stuck closer to Sam than he might have. "You get some real cold winters out here. It's my first time in the Midwest." And it was fucking freezing.
"Not so bad these days. Back in the day, you could just ice skate all the way from here to Deadwood." Sam rolled his eyes at Bobby sounding like an old man, but he couldn't deny the wave of fondness. "I've turned up the heating for you city boys. Sammy, get your luggage and bring it up to your old room. I ain't about to do it and your sweetheart here is our guest."
He rolled further into the living room, gesturing Harry along. "Have a seat. You want a beer or something? Or is that not your style?"
"Be right back," Sam assured Harry, kissing his cheek and heading back outside to get their stuff, as instructed.
"Nah, beer is fine but I think I'll stick to water, is that's okay?" He wasn't a beer drinker but he wasn't about to admit to that cause he just walked into a house like this with a guy like that and he wasn't about to add to it. Not that he minded beer, though he tended to drink light beer. "Thanks, I get a little ... car sick. Water is better."
Harry looked around the place, hands in his pockets, wondering if maybe he should have worn something more dressed down. He didn't think the Prada patterned shirt with sweater vest was really screaming South Dakota vibes.
Sitting himself on the couch, he tried not to look as awkward as he felt. "You got a nice place, sir."
"You've got manners, son. You don't gotta bother, just call me Bobby. I know the place is a shithole, but now that some idjit's put all that money into making it accessible for me, I guess I'm stuck." He had moved into the kitchen and then came back with a bottle of water, shrugging as he handed it to Harry. "Here. That's the water a friend of mine likes to drink when he's not just drinking straight up whiskey. It's imported or some shit."
Who imported water? Dumb thing to do.
"I'm taking it all upstairs," Sam called out before bounding up the stairs. Bobby looked up, raising his eyebrows.
"That boy moves like he's still a kid instead of some giant baby." His steps could certainly be heard throughout the house.
He took the water and then turned it around in his hand, looking at where it was imported from. "Huh, Fiji. Your friend drinks like my dad." He laughed at that and then cracked the bottle open, resisting the urge to ask to see the whiskey. He fucking loved whiskey, that was more his area but he knew he had to be careful with that. He didn't want to get himself wrecked at Sam's family house.
Harry snorted in amusement, watching Sam carry their bags with a slight tilt of appreciation. God, he was so damn strong. It was such a turn on.
"He never knows his own size. He's like a dog that still thinks he's a puppy. It's cute." Or he found it very cute, at least. "He was excited to come, he's shared so many stories on the way."
"Yeah, he's not so bad." Bobby heard him rummaging about upstairs, wondering whether the woman whom he had paid to tidy up had messed about too much. Whatever, nothing to be done about it now. "Don't be uptight about it. I ain't got a problem with you unless you start one. You make my boy happy enough he wanted to bring you by, so you're doing something right in my book."
He looked Harry over, a little confused by his outfit, but ultimately he simply shrugged. "I figured he'd pick someone with blue eyes. He's always liked that."
"I'm not really looking to start a problem, especially not with a guy like you. I figured you'd run me over before I could even throw a punch. Plus I have low bone density so even if I landed one, I'm shattering my hand." Harry joked, smiling awkwardly at Bobby. "I'm just glad you let me come, I was looking at a winter break alone. And Sam would have missed me."
Obviously. Sure, he could have gone somewhere warm for summer but he wanted to be stay with Sam, no matter what. "You know, all us with blue eyes have a single common ancestor who developed blue eyes. I guess I can thank some random manslut who spread that mutation around. Got me Sammy."
"Cheers to the manslut, I guess. I know Sammy is gonna tell you some crap about caring only about the inner beauty, but I know my boy. It's all in the eyes." Bobby spared something close enough to a smile, coming from him, and then Sam finally came back down.
He sat down next to Harry and looked at Bobby. "My room's never looked so tidy."
"Yeah, I had to pay someone to come in and clean. I ain't going up the stairs for that."
"I'm so excited to see your room." Harry admitted because he had so many images in his head and he was so curious what sort of posters he had up and what books he owned, how much random crap he'd accumulated. "I will pick it apart slowly and enjoy every detail." Harry never really had a bedroom so it was another one of those fun, foreign concepts. He had a board school he never left and a room back at his dad's where he stored stuff.
Sam had to have one of those classic rooms where his socks were everywhere and he had shitty band posters and models he felt were hot up on the wall.
Bobby's phone vibrated on the coffee table, it was Matty finishing up his job.
Bobby sent the response while Sam decided to be brave, holding a hand out to Harry. "Come on up."
Might as well get it over with. "We'll be right back," he told Bobby as he pulled Harry along up the stairs.
"Yeah, I ain't gonna run off," Bobby grumbled, good-naturedly, and Sam felt a warmth inside him.
He gestured to various doors once they were up the stairs. "That's Matty's room, that used to be Bobby's bedroom and that's the bathroom. And that's the door to my room."
He opened said door and let Harry inside, bracing for whatever comments Harry might make.
The room was pretty orderly. There was still his desk against one wall, with the Stanford banner hanging over it and several of the uni brochures stacked on the wall, all signs of how excited he had been. There was also a post it reading 'Stanford SMELLS' right there, thoughtfully placed by Matty. He had all his text markers, pens and pencils still in the cup he'd always had them in. There were books on the bookshelf, he could have gone right back to studying.
There was a wardrobe built into the wall that was thankfully closed and, Sam hoped, more orderly than he remembered leaving it. On the door to the wardrobe was a picture of Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, right next to a poster of Kurt Cobain. There was also a poster of Buffy above the bed, as well as a Placebo poster that had definitely been ripped off the wall at least once and stubbornly been attached again.
The bed was not yet made, he'd have to do that later. He hoped he could find non-embarrassing bedsheets. For now there was a plaid blanket on it. "Whatcha think?"
"There's a lot of bedrooms like this in gay porn. You know, the amateur sort of stuff. I always found it strangely erotic, probably the foreignness of it all." Harry mused as he walked into the room, hands in his pockets, looking every bit the billionaire business man he was as he seemed to walk around, analysing each poster curiously.
Once he was down, he sat on the edge of the bed and made beautiful eye contact with the hot, blond hunks across from him. "You had a think for blond rockers, huh? Or just blonds in general."
Looking around, his eyes fell on the battered shoes still in the corner. Canvas sneakers, of course. It was strangely appealing. "My room has two large, giant and obtrusive stone dogs I didn't ask for." Just saying. "This is way nicer."
"Yeah, I don't really got... Any stone dogs, really." Sam felt that no stone dog was the correct amount of stone dogs, but he had a feeling Harry agreed with that sentiment, so there was no need to add salt to the wound. He closed his door and then decided to lock it. It was a bit of an act of rebellion, Bobby would have never allowed him to lock his room when company was over.
But he was an adult, so ha! He glanced at the posters of Spike and Kurt and grinned, walking over to the bed to join Harry on it. He sat down next to him and shrugged. "I think it was the attitude more than the hair-colour."
"I think it's a cool room, I would have been so into you in high school." If he had gone to a normal high school and not some weird boarding school in Europe, this would have been his teenage fantasy. Just being in a room with a hot guy, surrounded by his dim colour palette, excess of plaid and rock posters.
Leaning forward, he pulled Sam into a quick kiss, feeling a little spurred on by the whole energy here. "I wish we met sooner."
Sam managed to get his arms around Harry and that made it easy to lift him up onto his lap. Which was just perfect for the longer kiss he went for. After breaking it, he smiled. "Me too."
Although... He had to laugh, smiling at him. "You might have been disappointed though, I've never taken a date home. Between Bobby and Matty, I'd not have wanted to do that to anyone I actually liked. I'm older and more independent now. Somewhat."
It was still terrifying. "Y'know, I didn't twig that I liked boys until after I'd met you. Maybe you'd have made me figure it out sooner."
"Who said you'd invite me? I'd come late at night and lure you outside we could bang in one of those rusty cars. I could have just daydreamed about your room, would have looked like this in my mind too." And he could do a lot with a fantasy. It was easy, straight boys sort of led themselves to that and in Sam's case, he debunked a lot of that with his hidden bi-ness. All the fantasy plus some reality.
He kissed Sam again, wondering just how comfortable Sam was to make out with him in his old childhood bedroom. So far, he didn't seem to have a big issue with it. Harry put his arms around Sam's shoulders and playfully nipped at his neck.
"Hey Sammy?! Get your ass down here and say hello!" Matty's voice suddenly cut through their moment, booming up the stairs and towards Sam's room.
At first, Sam was very comfortable making out with Harry in his old childhood bedroom, just as he had always been happy to make out with him most anywhere else. Although he was slightly less fond of PDA than Harry, because he still had some common decency and Harry seemed to consider that a flaw.
However, then his brother's voice was suddenly in his ear and it took willpower to not push Harry off his lap. He did pull away from him though, immediately feeling caught out. "Shit, I didn't know he would... I'm so-- That's Matty."
He assumed that was kind of obvious from context and here he was blushing, as if he had been caught doing something bad. "Guess we gotta." Damn it. He'd rather hide under his bed.
"Huh." That was fascinating. Sam was all into making out and as soon as he heard his brother's voice, there was almost a wave of shame that came over him. Fear. Uncertainty. This was going to be one hell of a treat. Harry got himself up and off of Sam, holding a hand out to help him up and then letting go. "Chill. You're with me, aren't you? So who cares? Let him be a dick."
If that was what was going to happen, it was going to happen. No amount of playing straight would fix it.
"Besides, I like dicks. I am a dick. It'll give me something fun to do." He loved to poke homophobes. "Don't be so worried - you know I can hold my own."
"Yeah, no. I know you can." Sam wasn't sure how to put his feelings into words, that urge to be cool enough for Matty's standard. The fear of letting him down. Of being a disappointment after everything that Matty had done for him and sacrificed for him. He didn't wat to put any of those worries on Harry, so he simply got up, took Harry's hand and smiled as best he could. "I love you, yeah? No matter what."
Even if Matty would hate him for it. He walked over, still holding Harry's hand, and unlocked the door. Then he walked down the stairs with him and held his free hand up to greet his big brother once he'd spotted him. "Hey, Matty."
"Hey, Sammy. I picked up dinner from the diner. I didn't know what you wanted so I got that weird garden burger they put on recently. Got be the gayest thing--" The words sort of trailed off as Matty looked away from the bag he was unpacking to his brother and the weird little guy he was holding hands with. Jesus, that guy looked like such a douche.
Harry saw that look and he couldn't help it. He didn't feel shame or concern, he just smiled widely. Bobby was more intimidating to him that Matty. Matty he could understand and handle but not Bobby. "Hey, what's up, man?" He smiled at Matty and let go of Sam so he could come down the stairs and hold out his hand to Matty. "I'm Harry Osborn. Nice to meet you."
"Uh-huh." Matty took his hand but he was looking at Sam, not Harry.
"Harry's my boyfriend. I told you about him." Kind of. Well, he had said he had a boyfriend and he hadn't exactly wanted to have any kind of conversation about it because he hadn't wanted to hear what Matty would have to say about it. "And that's Matty. My big brother."
"When you are done shaking hands like at a business meeting, set the table. Matty and Sam, not you." Bobby gestured at Harry. "You just sit down, you're a guest."
The way Matty squeezed Harry's hand was painful and the guy pulled his hand back, retreating a little as Bobby spoke to them. He watched Harry kiss Sam on the cheek and dreaded to think what dad would say about this. He failed Sam, he knew he did, but the idiot wanted to go to college. It was just a phase. A phase and then it was over.
Once Harry was sitting, Matty turned to Bobby and smirked. "We're setting a table? La dee da. I was just gonna eat out of the containers."
Rolling his eyes, he went into the kitchen to get plates. God, how he was supposed to not murder that idiot with the skinny jeans tonight? It was unfair, honestly.
Sam shot Bobby a look filled with anger and despair and Bobby simply shrugged, turning his attention to Harry. "You should check out the annex later. Never even used that word once in my life before my friend had one built. That's the most accessible part of the house, for me. Reckon it might be more your speed than their smelly old rooms."
And maybe he just wanted to give Harry something to talk about that wasn't related to the tension between the brothers. Sam walked into the kitchen behind Matty, opening a drawer noisily and getting out cutlery. They never really set the table much, but he did want to give Harry a good impression. Which was why he'd been hoping Matty wouldn't be around. "...thanks for getting food."
"Of course I got the food. I pick up shit for Bobby all the time. This ain't special." Matty highlighted, one step away from just outright saying 'I didn't leave' because he hadn't left. He finished collecting the plates and then tilted his head to the side, watching Harry and Bobby talk to each other from the living room.
"Unbelievable. You better not hold hands with him in town or you're gonna get your dumb ass into trouble." Matty pointed out in Spanish before he moved into the other room, preventing Sam from answering back. He started to set the plates down, eyeing up Bobby and Harry discussing fucking home design. Damn queers.
Sam had prepared so many retorts for that. He had known Matty would say something like that and he had practised it in his head endlessly. Yet when Matty actually said it, in Spanish no less, he felt as if he'd been kicked in the stomach. He had to blink because it felt as if tears might spring to his eyes and he tightened his hands so much that it hurt, fingernails leaving little imprints in his palm.
He was used to so much worse, him and Harry got it all the time. Just like racism too. Sometimes they provoked it on purpose. But it had never hurt him before because it had never been Matty. Matty so soon after yet another quip about him leaving.
It took him a few moments longer before he followed Matty out of the kitchen and then he simply focused on his task, setting the cutlery down next to the plates. He felt like there was a knot in his throat and he wanted to be anywhere but here. Bravely, he sat down next to Harry instead of bolting, and he reached for his hand under the table, even though he didn't look at him.
"Thanks, boys," Bobby said, seeing the usual fallout of the brothers being in a fight. Ah, family time. "If we are doing proper Christmas this year, someone's gonna have to go out and chop down a tree. I've got a feeling it ain't gonna be me. Or Harry here, either. We got better things to do."
"I'll handle it," Sam promised, glancing at Harry with an almost shy smile, "You always say I've got lumberjack style."
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waywarddone2024-10-10 08:28 pm
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"I ain't deaf though, you idjit," Bobby said, having opened the door at just the wrong point. Sam was trying to defend himself and Bobby waved it off, turning his focus to Harry. "Did that idjit not tell you to dress properly? Get inside, son, I ain't heating for the coyotes."
Sam walked inside with Harry, pulling the door close behind them. "That's Harry, Bobby. And that's Bobby."
"Think he's put that together." Bobby held a hand out to Harry. "Welcome. Had a tough ride?"
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It was pretty crappy but he didn't regret it. He finally got to experience the all American road trip. Complete with weird diners and some strange roadside attractions.
Harry wasn't really a self conscious person, he didn't have much issue socialising but the sudden pressure of this being basically Sam's dad got to him a little so he stuck closer to Sam than he might have. "You get some real cold winters out here. It's my first time in the Midwest." And it was fucking freezing.
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He rolled further into the living room, gesturing Harry along. "Have a seat. You want a beer or something? Or is that not your style?"
"Be right back," Sam assured Harry, kissing his cheek and heading back outside to get their stuff, as instructed.
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Harry looked around the place, hands in his pockets, wondering if maybe he should have worn something more dressed down. He didn't think the Prada patterned shirt with sweater vest was really screaming South Dakota vibes.
Sitting himself on the couch, he tried not to look as awkward as he felt. "You got a nice place, sir."
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Who imported water? Dumb thing to do.
"I'm taking it all upstairs," Sam called out before bounding up the stairs. Bobby looked up, raising his eyebrows.
"That boy moves like he's still a kid instead of some giant baby." His steps could certainly be heard throughout the house.
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Harry snorted in amusement, watching Sam carry their bags with a slight tilt of appreciation. God, he was so damn strong. It was such a turn on.
"He never knows his own size. He's like a dog that still thinks he's a puppy. It's cute." Or he found it very cute, at least. "He was excited to come, he's shared so many stories on the way."
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He looked Harry over, a little confused by his outfit, but ultimately he simply shrugged. "I figured he'd pick someone with blue eyes. He's always liked that."
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Obviously. Sure, he could have gone somewhere warm for summer but he wanted to be stay with Sam, no matter what. "You know, all us with blue eyes have a single common ancestor who developed blue eyes. I guess I can thank some random manslut who spread that mutation around. Got me Sammy."
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He sat down next to Harry and looked at Bobby. "My room's never looked so tidy."
"Yeah, I had to pay someone to come in and clean. I ain't going up the stairs for that."
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Sam had to have one of those classic rooms where his socks were everywhere and he had shitty band posters and models he felt were hot up on the wall.
Bobby's phone vibrated on the coffee table, it was Matty finishing up his job.
b there in 5
sam home yet?
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be nice
or shut up
Bobby sent the response while Sam decided to be brave, holding a hand out to Harry. "Come on up."
Might as well get it over with. "We'll be right back," he told Bobby as he pulled Harry along up the stairs.
"Yeah, I ain't gonna run off," Bobby grumbled, good-naturedly, and Sam felt a warmth inside him.
He gestured to various doors once they were up the stairs. "That's Matty's room, that used to be Bobby's bedroom and that's the bathroom. And that's the door to my room."
He opened said door and let Harry inside, bracing for whatever comments Harry might make.
The room was pretty orderly. There was still his desk against one wall, with the Stanford banner hanging over it and several of the uni brochures stacked on the wall, all signs of how excited he had been. There was also a post it reading 'Stanford SMELLS' right there, thoughtfully placed by Matty. He had all his text markers, pens and pencils still in the cup he'd always had them in. There were books on the bookshelf, he could have gone right back to studying.
There was a wardrobe built into the wall that was thankfully closed and, Sam hoped, more orderly than he remembered leaving it. On the door to the wardrobe was a picture of Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, right next to a poster of Kurt Cobain. There was also a poster of Buffy above the bed, as well as a Placebo poster that had definitely been ripped off the wall at least once and stubbornly been attached again.
The bed was not yet made, he'd have to do that later. He hoped he could find non-embarrassing bedsheets. For now there was a plaid blanket on it. "Whatcha think?"
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Once he was down, he sat on the edge of the bed and made beautiful eye contact with the hot, blond hunks across from him. "You had a think for blond rockers, huh? Or just blonds in general."
Looking around, his eyes fell on the battered shoes still in the corner. Canvas sneakers, of course. It was strangely appealing. "My room has two large, giant and obtrusive stone dogs I didn't ask for." Just saying. "This is way nicer."
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But he was an adult, so ha! He glanced at the posters of Spike and Kurt and grinned, walking over to the bed to join Harry on it. He sat down next to him and shrugged. "I think it was the attitude more than the hair-colour."
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Leaning forward, he pulled Sam into a quick kiss, feeling a little spurred on by the whole energy here. "I wish we met sooner."
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Although... He had to laugh, smiling at him. "You might have been disappointed though, I've never taken a date home. Between Bobby and Matty, I'd not have wanted to do that to anyone I actually liked. I'm older and more independent now. Somewhat."
It was still terrifying. "Y'know, I didn't twig that I liked boys until after I'd met you. Maybe you'd have made me figure it out sooner."
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He kissed Sam again, wondering just how comfortable Sam was to make out with him in his old childhood bedroom. So far, he didn't seem to have a big issue with it. Harry put his arms around Sam's shoulders and playfully nipped at his neck.
"Hey Sammy?! Get your ass down here and say hello!" Matty's voice suddenly cut through their moment, booming up the stairs and towards Sam's room.
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However, then his brother's voice was suddenly in his ear and it took willpower to not push Harry off his lap. He did pull away from him though, immediately feeling caught out. "Shit, I didn't know he would... I'm so-- That's Matty."
He assumed that was kind of obvious from context and here he was blushing, as if he had been caught doing something bad. "Guess we gotta." Damn it. He'd rather hide under his bed.
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If that was what was going to happen, it was going to happen. No amount of playing straight would fix it.
"Besides, I like dicks. I am a dick. It'll give me something fun to do." He loved to poke homophobes. "Don't be so worried - you know I can hold my own."
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Even if Matty would hate him for it. He walked over, still holding Harry's hand, and unlocked the door. Then he walked down the stairs with him and held his free hand up to greet his big brother once he'd spotted him. "Hey, Matty."
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Harry saw that look and he couldn't help it. He didn't feel shame or concern, he just smiled widely. Bobby was more intimidating to him that Matty. Matty he could understand and handle but not Bobby. "Hey, what's up, man?" He smiled at Matty and let go of Sam so he could come down the stairs and hold out his hand to Matty. "I'm Harry Osborn. Nice to meet you."
"Uh-huh." Matty took his hand but he was looking at Sam, not Harry.
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"When you are done shaking hands like at a business meeting, set the table. Matty and Sam, not you." Bobby gestured at Harry. "You just sit down, you're a guest."
The boys had to show some manners here.
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Once Harry was sitting, Matty turned to Bobby and smirked. "We're setting a table? La dee da. I was just gonna eat out of the containers."
Rolling his eyes, he went into the kitchen to get plates. God, how he was supposed to not murder that idiot with the skinny jeans tonight? It was unfair, honestly.
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And maybe he just wanted to give Harry something to talk about that wasn't related to the tension between the brothers. Sam walked into the kitchen behind Matty, opening a drawer noisily and getting out cutlery. They never really set the table much, but he did want to give Harry a good impression. Which was why he'd been hoping Matty wouldn't be around. "...thanks for getting food."
There. He was trying.
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"Unbelievable. You better not hold hands with him in town or you're gonna get your dumb ass into trouble." Matty pointed out in Spanish before he moved into the other room, preventing Sam from answering back. He started to set the plates down, eyeing up Bobby and Harry discussing fucking home design. Damn queers.
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He was used to so much worse, him and Harry got it all the time. Just like racism too. Sometimes they provoked it on purpose. But it had never hurt him before because it had never been Matty. Matty so soon after yet another quip about him leaving.
It took him a few moments longer before he followed Matty out of the kitchen and then he simply focused on his task, setting the cutlery down next to the plates. He felt like there was a knot in his throat and he wanted to be anywhere but here. Bravely, he sat down next to Harry instead of bolting, and he reached for his hand under the table, even though he didn't look at him.
"Thanks, boys," Bobby said, seeing the usual fallout of the brothers being in a fight. Ah, family time. "If we are doing proper Christmas this year, someone's gonna have to go out and chop down a tree. I've got a feeling it ain't gonna be me. Or Harry here, either. We got better things to do."
"I'll handle it," Sam promised, glancing at Harry with an almost shy smile, "You always say I've got lumberjack style."
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