Chapter Text
You woke up to the sound of your phone ringing, your eyes blinking open to the most horrid light blaring into them. Letting out a groan, you covered your eyes and grimaced. Your stomach ached with the cry for food as your head spun out. You hadn’t realized your phone had stopped ringing until it started again.
With a sharp inhale, you looked to your bedside table and grabbed the phone, seeing who dared to make your headache worse with their incessant calls. When you saw Sam’s contact on the screen, you huffed and answered the phone. “Hello?”
“Wow,” Sam started, “you sound like shit.”
You scoffed through a laugh, closing your eyes in attempts to soothe the pounding in your head “I feel like shit, thanks for noticing.” You turned onto your side and curled into yourself, “what do you need?”
“Well,” you could practically hear the smile on his face, it was gross. “I was callin’ to let you know that your DoorDash order is at the door.”
You furrowed your brows, opening your eyes to look around your room. “What?” You sat up suddenly, making your way to the door in only your undershirt and underwear from last night. “You put my address into DoorDash? Sam, what the hell? Do you know what could happen if someone realizes whose house this–”
When you opened the door, instead of a bag of food on the porch, there was a man standing in front of you. “...is.” The man, thank god, was Sam. He was smiling at you with that stupid grin that he always seemed to get you. You shoved his shoulder, leveling him with a look that could kill. “Asshole,” you grabbed his arm and yanked him inside.
He chuckled, hanging up the phone and stumbling into your house. “Hey, hey, don’t be mean to me. I brought you food.” He gave you a once over and nodded his head towards your bedroom, “why don’t you go put some pants on and I’ll get your food on a plate.”
You looked down at your outfit and realized how unbecoming you probably looked. It was good that your doorstep fan had been Sam, and not the paparazzi or some other kind of public eye. Pictures of you in your underwear on your porch were not the type of thing you wanted circulating the internet right now.
You left Sam to his devices in your kitchen and changed, getting into comfortable clothing that wouldn’t be too offensive to your hangover. When you walked back to where you’d left Sam, you realized how good whatever food he’d brought you smelled amazing. Before you could say anything, Sam was holding out a cup of water and some pills to you.
“What are those?” You asked, taking the water from him and eyeing the pills.
“Tylenol,” he held them out more, “I’m sure you’ve got a wonderful headache after how much of Vince’s alcohol you drank last night.”
You took the pills, swallowing them and taking a peek at the food that had been brought into your home by your hangover savior. Pancakes, hashbrowns, bacon, toast. Two plates of it. You smirked at Sam, “pancakes?”
He handed you a plate, “chocolate chip pancakes.”
You raised a brow and hummed, making your way over to the kitchen island to sit. Sam sat next to you, and the two of you ate in near silence. The type of silence that left you to recount the events of last night. The occasional glances you were getting from Sam reminded you of the reason you’d drank so much that night.
Your mind couldn’t help but remind you of the first party you’d hung out with Sam at. What he’d said. ‘Let me take you on a date. We can go anywhere. Do anything. Whatever you wanna do.’ It had caught you off guard that night, you’d thought he was joking. If he said it again, you wouldn’t think the same thing.
You looked over to him, considering what he’d done last night. You’d been so dismissive and defensive. And yet, here he was. Had he kissed your head last night, or had you made that up? Did he have feelings for you? His eyes met yours, his brows twitching in recognition of your thinking face.
He didn’t ask what you were thinking about, just offered a kind smile and brought his attention back to his food. He let you watch him. Study him. And study him you did. His shoulders were relaxed, his face calm. To you, he was the picture of serenity. It drove you crazy most of the time, but right now it was possibly one of the most attractive things you’d ever laid eyes on.
You’d never been one for being attracted to softness, you honestly didn’t think about relationships much at all. You were used to solitude, used to spending most of your time alone in your house when you weren’t working. But this? Waking up to eat at your kitchen island with Sam? It was really nice.
Your stomach twisted with anxiety the more and more you thought of wanting Sam as something more than a friend or coworker– but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not after last night. Not with what was happening. You were such a mess, you’d known that for a long time, but he seemed to clean up after you like it was something that took no thought at all. You’d only known him a few months but you’d never felt this comfortable around anyone before.
Once you two had finished eating, Sam took your plates to the sink and began washing them. You stood leaned against the island.
“Sam,” you broke the silence, “Did you mean it that night?”
Sam tensed, “What?”
You shifted your weight across your feet, watching him. “Did you mean it that night, at Vincent’s. When you said you wanted to take me on a date?”
Sam swallowed, turning to look at you with a touch of nervousness on his face. “I… did.”
“Ask me again.”
Sam looked surprised, he hesitated as he tried to figure out whether or not you were playing a trick on him for some reason. “Can I take you on a date sometime? Wherever. Whenever.”
You took a step closer, “whatever I wanna do?”
He gave a breathy chuckle, “whatever you wanna do.”
You rested your hip against the counter next to Sam, close enough that you could feel a whisper of his body heat ghosting across your legs. “Does that mean right now, too? Or just on our date?”
Sam smiled at you, drying his hands. “It can mean right now, if you’d like.”
Your hand slipped up onto his cheek, “I would like,” you breathed. You closed the gap between the two of you as you kissed him. Sam made a soft noise of surprise before he melted into you, one hand coming to your hip as the other made its way to the back of your head.
The warmth that bloomed in your chest overtook the anxiety that had boiled up within your thought spiral. His touch felt intoxicating, better than any high or buzz you’d ever had. You couldn’t get enough of him. You two had practically tangled up in each other when you had to break away from him to catch your breath.
The look that Sam was giving you was enough to make your knees feel weakened, his eyes filled with a kind of affection you’d never experienced before. He pulled you into a tight hug, wrapping his arms around you and taking a shaky breath. “You have no idea how long I have been wantin’ that.”
You laughed, burying your face into the crook of his neck. You didn’t say anything, you weren’t sure you could form a proper sentence if you tried. There was adrenaline pumping through your veins, enough to make you lightheaded.
Sam kissed your hair, squeezing you tight before trying to coax you out of his neck so that he could look at you. “What do you say we adjourn to the couch and watch somethin’ while our food settles?”
You nodded, “Yeah, that sounds good.” The two of you parted with each other and settled onto the couch. After deciding on a show, you found yourself wanting more of his touch. You leaned down to rest your head on his lap and took his hand into yours, tracing the lines of it with your fingertips.