Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam couldn’t quite believe that he was back here. He was just a teenager when he left Harlem. At the time, it felt like the end of the world. New Orleans might as well have been halfway across the world. By the time he was old enough to return on his own, he ended up enlisting in the army, then Riley happened and he had to focus on pulling himself together again.

He was far removed from his teenage days, but the nostalgia he felt walking down the street with his arm looped through Misty’s was clear as day, like it all happened just yesterday.

“Genghis Connie’s survived,” Sam said happily as they huddled together for warmth, it was chillier than was usual for May.

“Mm-hmm. Just. The apartments on top are helping a lot. Luke still lives there. I told you he's engaged to Claire now after Reva, right?"

"Only once or five times," Sam replied with amusement. Despite her history with Luke, Sam didn't think Misty was actually jealous of his relationship in particular, she just didn't think she would be 43 and single. Sam would point this out to her if he thought she wouldn't resort to violence.

"Some woman tried to buy Connie out, make the restaurant a vegan pizza shop. Connie refused, told her to get her pasty ass out of her building. She tried the same with Claire's mom's place. She kindly told her to stick her money where the sun don't shine and then offered her the house special. Funniest thing is she's a regular at Soledad's now. Food was so good, she's there all the time. It turns out she's not even a vegan. She just thought it'd be a lucrative choice.”

"Not in this neighborhood. Good for Connie and Soledad though.”

“I think Soledad's gonna take pity on her and hire her. We'll see. Pop’s barbershop is still here.” Misty said.

“Thank God. I need a hair-cut.” Sam replied, relief clear in his voice.

“When you clean yourself up we can go to Harlem’s Paradise, get some free booze off Cottonmouth.”

“Aren’t you a cop? You supposed to be rubbing elbows with him?” Sam asked.

“I’m a detective and it’s called plausible deniability. He hasn’t dropped any bodies… lately. When he does, you bet your ass I’ll be investigating.”

“That’s some real moral acrobatics.” Sam commented.

“Anything in the name of turning up.” Misty replied with a shrug.

“We should—”

“Sam?” Sam froze at the familiar voice. He knew that voice. 25 years couldn’t dampen that knowledge. He turned around and there he stood. He had bulked up over the years, his wheat blonde hair shorter than it had been back then. His eyes were still that deep blue, if harboring more pain and heartache than they had before, but it was him.

“Steve.” Sam breathed out, staring at him. Steve was obviously shocked to see him.

“I thought you lived in New Orleans.”

“I came back here to visit my sister and Misty. I heard you lived in London.” Sam replied.

“I’m visiting my mom.” Steve explained. They stared at each other for a moment more before a smile rose on Steve’s lips. Sam paused before smiling back.

“You two just going to stand here staring at one another?” Misty asked. Steve blushed scarlet and Sam rubbed the back of his neck as they briefly lost eye contact only to go right back to looking at each other. Misty rolled her eyes beside Sam.

“Look, nice to see you again and all Blondie, but we’re on a schedule. You still know the way to Harlem’s Paradise?”

“Of course.”

“Meet us there tonight at 9. You two can stare at each other all the livelong day.” Misty said before dragging Sam down the street. He glanced back at Steve once more before allowing Misty to drag him around the corner.

“You’ve got a big, dopey smile on your face,” she commented.

“No, I don’t,” he denied feebly. He was sure he did.

“You never hid how you felt about him well. It’s no wonder your father found out.” Sam conceded that point, though there was other reasons his father found out too. Paul Wilson was still living in New Orleans along with Sam's mother and Gideon’s family. They had all gotten to a place where Sam’s homosexuality was accepted and no longer perceived as a deformity or phase. It wasn’t like that back then. Hell, it wasn’t like that for Sam then.

Over the years, he would try to push his memories of Steve away. He had other relationships and tried to make them work. Relationships with women that were dead ends, relationships with men which fared slightly better. There was Riley, but he was gone now. Sam would manage to forget Steve sometimes but he was always there in the back of his mind.

~*~*~

26 years earlier...

They were seventeen when they met. Steve was an anomaly in Harlem in 1991 and he presented to the teens like a shiny new toy. A good number of Sam's school was fascinated with him, but many of the students flat out scorned him for his presence. At first, Sam didn’t care. It was like the universe balancing itself out. Let him feel what it was like for Sam and his classmates when they went to the museum or games and had to interact with some of the white private school kids who looked down on them. Sam chose to stick by Misty’s side and ignore it.

He would hear rumors about him. Rumors about Steve being worst off financially than any of them. It made him an easy target for bullies, but he fought back so there were frequent brawls involving him. His fights had become a source of gambling and students would place bets through Cornell Stokes and Hernan Alvarez. Sam did his best to steer clear of the drama, but Misty had a way of dragging him into things he didn’t want to be involved in.

“Don’t we have class right now?” Sam asked as they walked towards where a fight had apparently broken out between Luke Cage and Rogers.

“So what? I want to see this. I wonder how Cottonmouth managed to swindle them into fighting each other.” Misty replied, dragging him towards the door leading outside to the courtyard.

“If I had to bet, it was probably Diamondback. You know he hates his brother, probably lied to them both.” Sam replied. He pushed the door open once he reached it. There was a crowd of kids cheering around the fight. Misty and Sam shoved their way to the front. Luke and Steve were both already bloody lipped and breathing heavily. Luke punched Steve, knocking him off his feet but he got right back up into a fighting stance. He dodged a punch and struck at Luke, catching him on the cheek. Luke pushed him before punching him again. Steve fell and tried to get back up, but his feet got all tangled and he ended up on the ground again. The crowd went silent as Luke went over and stood above him.

“You give up, white boy?” He asked. Steve breathed harshly before pushing himself up off the floor.

“No, man. I can do this all day.” Luke stared at him for a moment before shaking his head.

“You’re alright, white boy. You can take a beating if nothing else.” He said, holding out a hand to him. Steve stared at it before taking his hand and accepting the dap Luke gave him.

“If you two are you done jerking each other off, everyone who bet against Luke can meet me in the library to pay up and everyone who bet against Steve can come get their money.” Cornell called out before walking away, waving at Mariah, Tone and Hernan to follow him. The crowd steadily dispersed after that, the entertainment over and their cash waiting. Misty tapped his arm to get him to follow but he waved her off, his eyes on Steve as he spit blood out on the asphalt. The blonde glanced up at him after a moment and rose an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked.

“You got some kind of weird fetish or something?” Sam asked him.

“’Scuse me?”

“You seem real happy to get your ass beat is all.”

“I wouldn’t call that an ass whooping, more like a draw.”

“No, that was luck. As in you’re lucky it was Luke and not Diamondback. He wouldn’t have stopped.”

“I’ve fought him before, you can figure out his moves if you pay enough attention." He said nonchalantly, seemingly checking if a tooth was loose. Sam merely shook his head in response as he continued.

"Besides, I got Luke's respect and maybe now other people will follow that lead. I’m hoping anyway. That worked out for me in Brooklyn at least.”

“I’m not so sure respect is worth all this.” Sam replied, gesturing towards Steve’s bloody knuckles.

“You’ll see one day.” Sam shook his head again, walking backwards away from Steve.

“If you say so, man.”

“Hey, what’s your name?” He asked.

“Sam Wilson.”

“I’m Steve—”

“Rogers. I know. Everyone knows that.”

“You’re on the basketball team, right?” Steve asked suddenly.

“Yeah, what about it? You thinkin' of trying out?” Sam asked.

“No, I'm more into baseball. I've seen you play though."

"And?"

"You’re real good, that’s all. I like watching you.” Sam rose an eyebrow at that.

“Your games, I like watching your games.” Steve clarified, blushing.

“Thanks..."

“That how you gonna make it out of here?”

“Who says I want to get out of here?” Steve gave him a look then.

“Everyone wants to get out of here.” Sam gave him that.

“No. I’m not good enough to be a pro baller. I haven’t figured out the getting out part yet.” Steve nodded along with the information. They stared at one another for a moment before Sam spoke up.

“Well, I gotta get to class so…”

“I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah.” Sam turned around and resisted the urge to look back.

What the hell was that?

~*~*~

Sam liked biology class. The classes offered at Frederick Douglas Academy were probably no better or worse than those of any other high school in Harlem. meaning they were all equally awful, but biology had always been something he enjoyed. He liked learning how things worked, it made it easier to understand why certain things happened, even the most basic things. It was nice to know that plants required sunlight, air and water and with these things they could conduct photosynthesis and then there was pollination and bees in there somewhere. He liked it, that didn’t mean he always paid attention or knew the finer details off the top of his head.

The point was he could usually relax in biology class. Plus, the teacher was pretty cool. However, Sam found he couldn’t settle down and he knew the reason exactly.

Steve was sitting at the table beside him.

He knew they shared this class. It had never bothered him before because Steve usually sat in the back beside Claire, but Candace had decided to actually show up to school today and took that seat so now the empty seat that Sam usually sat next to was occupied. That wouldn’t be a problem except Sam couldn’t stop thinking about their conversation in the courtyard. Something about it felt off and he couldn’t put his finger on it, but it was bugging him. Sam shook his head, resolving to ignore Steve.

“Alright, looks like we actually have a full class today. There’s a surprise. The good news is the principal will love that. The bad news is I didn’t print out enough handouts for everyone. The even worse news, that means you guys are going to be working with partners. No, you don’t get to choose. You’ll be working with the person beside you and identifying whether the bonds on the sheet are ionic bonds, covalent bonds or hydrogen bonds. Shouldn’t be too hard if you’ve been paying attention. The sheets are coming around, get to work, you’ve got half an hour.” Sam sighed to himself. The universe was out to get him obviously. He moved his stool slightly closer to Steve’s who smiled a little at him with a shrug. Sam noticed he was sporting a shiner.

Sam kept their conversation trained on their work as much as he could. They took turns identifying the bonds, Steve taking longer than Sam did.

“You really get this stuff, huh?” Steve commented after finally identifying a covalent bond with Sam’s hedging. Sam shrugged in response.

“I guess I get it better than most.”

“Science isn’t my strong suit. I’m more comfortable with art or english, or even history.” Steve replied, tapping his pencil against the desk.

“Math and science can trip a lot of people up. The next bond is an ionic one.” Sam replied, writing down the answer on the sheet.

“My Ma is trying to get me to look for a tutor. I don’t really think I need it. I think I can do it on my own if I study enough.”

“There’s no shame in extra help. We all need it sometimes. There are a few tutors Mr. Campbell could connect you to. They’re in the city and might be kind of pricey, but worth it I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Steve continued tapping his pencil on the desk, his shoulders tense. Sam knew he wanted to ask him to help. He probably had the ability to more than anyone else in the school did, but at the same time he wasn’t sure he wanted to be stuck in a room alone with Steve, not when he had this uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He guessed they could meet in the library so there were other people around and maybe he could make a few bucks to help his family out.

“I could tutor you. Could charge you only 6 bucks an hour. They’d probably charge you 11 or give you some ridiculous flat rate anywhere else.” Steve looked at him with a bright smile on his face.

“That’d be great. We should exchange numbers so we can set up a time to meet.” Sam nodded after a moment and ripped a sheet of loose-leaf from his book. He tore it in half and gave Steve a piece to scribble his home phone number down before doing the same and handing it over. He tucked Steve’s number away in his bag and the two went back to the handout.

Sam studiously ignored the way Steve stared at him.

~*~*~

They met up in the library.

Sam already had an idea of what Steve needed help with thanks to a previous phone call and a conversation with Mr. Campbell, so he threw together a study plan for that Saturday. Sam knew they had a couple of tests on chemistry and ecology coming up and that was where Steve was lacking the most. It was basic stuff but still enough to confuse some people. It was a lot of information. When he arrived to the library after basketball practice, Cornell was leaning over the table where Steve sat talking to him. Sam felt his heart stop cold for a second before he practically ran over to the pair.

"Hey Stokes. Didn't think I'd catch you dead at school on a Saturday." Sam said, discreetly moving between the two of them. Cornell looked him up and down.

"Usually wouldn't, but Mariah came down here for some debate club or something and Mama Mabel wanted me to drop her off."

"Well, we got a lot of studying to do so..." Sam trailed off, hoping Cornell would get the picture. He stared for a moment before laughing.

"Alright, Snap. I know when I'm not wanted." He said, knowing full well Sam didn't like the nickname. He looked away from Sam towards Steve.

"Yo, for real, think about it." The blonde nodded at him before Cornell walked off. Sam turned to him.

"What's that about?" Steve stared at him before shrugging.

"He was just complimenting me on my fighting skills. At least someone appreciates them. What are we doing today?" Sam stared at him with disbelief before deciding it was none of his business. He sat down next to Steve, their outdated textbooks beside them, and went to work.

Sam discovered that it wasn't that Steve wasn't smart or couldn't get this stuff, he just got distracted easily. Sam kept trying to keep their conversation on the work, but Steve would randomly ask him questions.

"How was practice?"

"What position do you play?"

"Oh that's nice. What is that again?"

"Do you like football?"

"Baseball?"

Sam wanted to be nice, he wanted to ignore any irrational discomfort he felt around Steve and so he answered his questions.

"It went well. We're a shoe-in for the semi-finals."

"I'm the point guard."

"Think of it as the quarterback in football."

"It's fine. It's more my brother's thing than mine, but I like it."

"That's also fine. More my father's thing, but fine."

Sam was pretty sure he was going to explode if Steve asked one more question that wasn't related to biology.

"So how—"

"Steve, no offense, but if the next question out of your mouth isn't about the work, then shut up." Steve stared at him before speaking.

"I was going to ask how we can really tell the difference between decomposers and scavengers."

"Oh. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. My Ma always says I either speak too much or not enough. Sorry if I've been annoying you."

"You haven't been annoying me." Sam replied lamely. Steve gave him a look at that.

"You don't have to lie about it."

"Okay, maybe just a little bit."

"Gee, thanks."

"Hey, you said be honest."

"Yeah I did. I was just trying to get to know you is all."

"Why? There's tons of people in this school you could get to know. Hell, Cottonmouth seems to like you well enough. He could be your new best friend." Steve shook his head.

"I doubt that. We just know each other because my mother works for his grandmother so I hang around Harlem's Paradise sometimes. Mostly we just argue and he tries to convince me to... Point is, there's not a lot of people in this school who are separate from that life." Sam nodded. A lot of the students' families he knew were still not financially stable, the economic crisises from the 70s and 80s not far enough removed. Harlem had only just begun to recover and it hadn't trickled down to them yet so they had to still rely on Mama Mabel's way of life, i.e. crime, prostitution and other illegal activity that wasn't getting regulated because she basically controlled the cops. Sam's family didn't have to go that route because his grandparents in New Orleans helped them out and periodically sent them money and other necessities.

"Would it be weird of me to say that what drew me to you in the beginning was your smile?" Sam looked at him with confusion.

"You probably don't remember this but on my first day at this school, I was kind of lost and some guy thought it'd be funny to knock all my things outta my hand. You saw me and you helped me pick up all my stuff even when everyone else walked around me. You smiled at me and told me not to sweat it and then you just walked off." Sam squinted trying to remember this. He could vaguely see himself walking down the school hallway with Misty and Claire then seeing Zip push Steve. Sam had helped him pick his books up and told him not to worry about Zip 'cause he couldn't fight for shit before walking away. After that, he endeavored not to get involved with Steve again once he saw the drama surrounding him.

"Oh yeah. I remember. Zip really isn't shit to worry about."

"I know that now but then, when I was still upset about moving away from my friends, something that little meant a lot to me so thank you." Sam shrugged, his face heating up at Steve's sincere gratitude.

"It was nothing." Steve looked back down at their work. It'd been three hours and Sam figured they could use the break so he closed the book causing Steve to look up at him curiously.

"Come on. Let's grab some food. I haven't eaten since before practice and I'm starving."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. I know a good, cheap Jamaican spot. If you can handle that sort of thing." Sam said, his voice hedging on teasing. Steve scoffed in response, gathering his belongings.

"I can handle it just fine."

He could not handle it just fine.

Sam watched in amusement across the table from Steve as they ate their curried goat, rice and peas and boiled dumplings. Steve's face was sweaty and red and his eyes were teary as he ate the curried goat. Sam admitted it had more spice than even he was used to, but at the same time Steve was trying to quietly power through it and so Sam didn't say anything but watch in silent amusement.

"Good?" He asked, cutting into one of his dumplings. Steve audibly swallowed while nodding.

"Yeah, it's good." His voice sounded slightly raw.

"It's just... a little spicier than what I'm used to." Steve answered, grabbing a bottle from the table and peppering the red liquid onto the meat on his fork.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Sam warned.

"Why? Ketchup don't go good with it?" Steve asked, popping the food into his mouth. Sam stifled a giggle.

"Because that's hot sauce." Sam couldn't contain his laugh now as Steve spit the food out and began coughing.

"I think I might've made a terrible mistake."

"I'm going to go see if they have any milk. Don't die while I'm gone." Sam came back soon after and Steve still looked as red as a tomato.

"Got the milk. The lady behind the counter seemed to think I was trying to use it to build a bomb or something, but once I told her it was for a white boy who couldn't handle some seasoning she gave it up. I can see why. Man, you are fire engine red."

"This is the last time I try to impress you." Sam rose an eyebrow as he sat across from the other boy.

"Why you trying to impress me so bad?"

"I don't know. The whole thing in the courtyard with Luke seemed to work for everyone except you."

"What? You were fighting him to get my attention? Cause I don't really care about petty fights in the schoolyard." Sam asked teasingly, but a part of him really wondered. Steve was weird.

"Damn, wish you'd have told me that before. I could've saved myself the time and energy of pissing him off by merely existing and messing up my hands so bad I couldn't properly hold my pencil and sketchpad for days." Steve replied sarcastically. Sam chuckled and stuffed a full helping of curried goat in his mouth while Steve sipped the milk to help ease the spicy pain.

"You don't have to rub it in." He said, watching Sam who shrugged innocently in response.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you don't."

"What? I don't. It's not my fault your taste buds are weak." Sam replied with a smirk. Steve scoffed before flicking some of his rice at Sam. Some of the grains stuck on his face, causing Steve to break out laughing.

"You're going to regret that." Sam threatened good-naturedly, glancing at the restaurant’s owner who stared at the loud duo.

"I don't think I will." Steve replied. Sam flicked some rice back at Steve and ducked when he made to hurl his boiled dumpling at him. He choked on a laugh as it went flying a few feet away, skidding across the floor.

"'Ey, likkle bwoy. Don mek me an ‘unno 'ave no problem, you 'ear?" One of the ladies behind the counter called to them with a thick Jamaican accent.

"Sorry." Steve replied, quickly standing up to pick the dumpling up off the floor and throw it in the garbage.

"You're gonna get me killed." He hissed at Sam once he sat back down.

"Hey, maybe you'll have impressed me by then."

"I think I already have." Steve replied.

Sam looked up with a challenging smirk before the look on Steve's face struck him. There was something soft about it, something that wasn't just a look one friend gives to another. It wasn't something he'd ever seen on Misty's face, that was for sure. It made his heart thud and a siren blare in his head that just screamed WRONG WRONG WRONG. This is wrong.

Sam cleared his throat and looked down.

"Um, I think that's been a long enough break. We should get back to work, right? Those symbiotic relationships aren't going to identify themselves." He said.

"Yeah, let's go." Steve replied, packing up on the other side of him. Sam chanced him a glance before looking away. What the hell was going on?

~*~*~

If there was one thing he enjoyed in school more than anything else, including biology, it was basketball. Sam may not be good enough to be pro, but he liked the mobility the sport afforded. He focused all his attentions on the game so he didn't have to think about the last payment notice his father received on the property tax or the fact that his parents skipped lunch again. Plus, it reminded him of good memories. Memories of his father and Misty's dad teaching the two children the rules of the game and playing horse for hours until they could make perfect three-pointers. Things could change all around them, the entire neighborhood could fall to shit, but this game would always stay the same.

Sam liked hanging out at Rucker Park throwing hoops by himself or with anyone else who was hanging around. He wouldn’t usually come by with anyone nowadays. His father was busy with church activities and working to gather supplies for Harlem’s homeless. His mother was helping his father. Gideon had decided he was more interested in chasing girls than hanging out with his siblings. Sarah had never liked playing basketball so much as watching it and had better things to do than hang out watching Sam. Misty would come if he asked, but Sam’s alone time was few and far between anyway.

Which is why his current situation was perplexing to him.

He had invited Steve to join him at Rucker Park.

It was the weekend and Sam was helping him with his biology work. Sam had been helping him for some time now, almost a month. Steve passed the last test they had, but he still needed the extra help. Sam thought they were friends of a sort. Talking came easy for them. Sam liked to focus on their studying when they met for tutoring, but when they had breaks they would speak to each other about things. Sam learned Steve moved from Brooklyn because his mother couldn’t afford their apartment there anymore and the brownstone they moved into was a lot cheaper. This meant it was literally falling apart all around them and well on its way to being condemned, but it’s all they could afford.

Steve loved his mother more than anything. He didn't like to talk about her night job with Mama Mabel, but would gladly talk about her work at the local clinic as a nurse, despite the meager pay. Steve liked art, it’s what he wanted to do for a living if he could. He liked getting into fights… a lot. The amount of times Sam walked past or broke up one of Steve’s fights in the last month was ridiculous. Sometimes it wasn’t even about him, he just didn’t like people being bullied and half the student body were assholes. Somehow Steve got it in his head that it was his job to singlehandedly fix the issue and, for some reason, Sam decided it was his job to save Steve in those moments. He would tend his wounds later on and chastise him but nothing he said stopped Steve from fighting. He doubted anything would. If nothing else, the student body managed to profit off it thanks to Cottonmouth’s impromptu business of holding bets on Steve’s fights. Sam thought the whole thing was stupid. Steve wasn’t getting paid to do any of this to Sam's knowledge, he was just being an idiot. It was a system that seemed to work for everyone involved though.

Beyond that, Steve sat next to him in biology everyday now because Candace was back in school. Steve hung out at Luke's locker which was close to Sam's and waved at him in the hallways. Steve came to all his games even though he didn't even really like basketball.

The point of all that was Steve was becoming a fixture in Sam’s daily life. It happened so quickly he didn’t even notice it and it didn’t bother him at first, not until Misty said something.

“Sam!” He heard come from down the hall. He turned to see Steve running up to his locker as he and Misty stood there chatting about the upcoming game.

“Guess what?” Steve said, practically bouncing in place.

“Did an impromptu avalanche happen letting us leave early today?” Steve rolled his eyes in response.

“Damn, then you got me stumped.”

“I just got my test back from Mr. Campbell. Guess who got an 82?” Sam smiled widely.

“Seriously?” Steve nodded excitedly.

“And I got a 77 on the last test so Mr. Campbell says he’ll count those grades towards my final grade this quarter instead of the failing ones I got before you started tutoring me.”

“Steve…” All the things Sam wanted to say tripped up on his tongue. He meant to say ‘congratulations’ or something along those lines, but he was just too genuinely happy to. He hadn’t ever actually tutored anyone before besides helping Sarah with her homework if she asked. He felt a sense of accomplishment in himself and pride in Steve. He couldn’t manage to articulate that so instead he ended up throwing his arms around Steve’s broad shoulders and pulling him into a hug. Steve returned the hug, his entire body thrumming and vibrating against Sam’s with his happiness.

“I mean, I know it’s not 100 or anything, it’s not even breaking the 90s, but I haven’t had a score this high in science since middle school.”

“Come on, you get to be proud of yourself. I’m proud of you and I know you’re only going to get better grades as long as you listen to your very handsome, very intelligent tutor.” Sam replied, pulling back from the hug. Steve put on a mock confused face.

“Which tutor is that? Doesn’t sound like the guy I know.”

“You keep that up and I’ll leave you to wander in the dark alone again.”

“That description sounds a little dramatic.”

“Are you underestimating my abilities? After all I’ve done for you.”

“Nah, I wouldn’t do that.” Steve replied, faux innocence in his voice.

“Seriously though, thank you so much.”

“Thank me when you pass the class.” Sam replied. Steve flashed another bright smile at him, his heavy hand clamping down on Sam’s shoulder in a soft yet firm grip. Steve squeezed once before letting go.

“I’ve gotta go get ready for english. Catch you at lunch?”

“I’ll see you there.” Steve smiled at him again and nodded at Misty before walking off down the hall. Sam smiled after him before turning back to his locker to select the books he needed. After a moment, he noticed Misty staring at him.

“What?”

“You two seem close.” She commented.

“I’ve been tutoring him in biology. You know that.”

“And that’s all that is?” She inquired dubiously.

“What are you asking me?”

“I’m just saying that I tutor Alesha in math and I ain’t like that with her.”

“Well, you don’t like Alesha. You guys aren’t friends.” Sam replied, closing the locker and starting off down the hall.

“You and Steve are friends now?” Misty asked, following beside him.

“Yes. He’s a cool dude and we get along. What the hell is wrong with that? This ain’t the Jim Crow South.”

“It’s not about him being white.”

“Then what is it about? And what the hell is “it” in the first place? I don’t understand this conversation.”

“You really don’t know? You haven’t heard the rumors?” Sam rolled his eyes then.

“No, because I don’t listen to every rumor I hear, especially the ones about Steve.”

“This rumor is pretty damn legit. People are saying Steve and his mom didn’t just leave Brooklyn because they couldn’t afford their place anymore, but because Steve was dating some guy over there. A guy, Sam.”

“What?” Sam asked, stopping short.

“You heard me.” Misty replied, stopping beside him.

“You think Steve is gay? That’s ridiculous.” Sam replied with a laugh.

“Why?”

“It’s… because… I mean… it’s Steve.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“With as much time as I spend with him, I think I’d know if he was into dudes.” Misty rolled her eyes at that.

“I have excellent gaydar and it’s blaring when it comes to Steve. Beyond that, I have eyes and ears and you two were clearly flirting just now.”

“What? So not only is Steve gay, but I’m gay now too? Really, Mercedes? Now I know you’re out of your mind. You need to stop listening to the gossip mill so much.” Sam replied with a scoff as he continued down the hall, completely dismissing Misty’s notions.

“Call me crazy all you want, you just better be careful and know what the hell you’re doing. This ain’t the Village or Chelsea, Sam.”

Sam did his best from then on to put Misty’s secondhand information and warnings out of his mind, but it was hard, mostly because Steve was weird. The way he acted around Sam, and even more frightening, the way Sam reacted to him made him feel uncomfortable. He couldn’t very well push Steve out of his life. There were multiple reasons for that, but the main one was he just didn’t want to. He enjoyed Steve’s company. He saw him every day and not just at school. Steve's rundown brownstone happened to be down the block from Sam's place. It made tutoring convenient, but it also made escaping him impossible.

When Sam was leaving for Rucker, Steve had just walked out the door. He could’ve kept walking, he could’ve ignored him altogether but Steve had previously mentioned to Sam he was struggling a little with the latest topic in biology so Sam figured, why not? He told him to grab his stuff and follow him.

When they arrived at Rucker there was a few people there, but Sam paid them no mind, shooting baskets absentmindedly while quizzing Steve on what he knew and what he didn’t. By the time 7 in the evening rolled around, the sun was setting and the park was clearing. It was basically just Sam and Steve now despite the few stragglers.

“It’s getting late, I should get home soon. I wanna see my Ma before she leaves for the night.” Steve said, closing his books and packing his bag up.

“Okay.” Sam replied, dribbling his basketball.

“You coming?”

“Nah, I’m going to shoot for a little while longer.”

“You really like basketball, don’t you?” Steve asked suddenly. Sam smirked a little at the question.

“What gave me away?” He asked sarcastically.

“No, it’s just… you mentioned a while back that you didn’t think you were good enough to be pro, but you seem pretty good to me. Whenever I watch your games it's like you and Misty are these forces to be reckoned with.”

“I’m the point guard, Misty’s the shooting guard. We gotta rely on each other if we wanna win, but Misty’s got skills on me by miles. I don’t have what it takes to make it pro, even if I could play in college. It’d be a waste of time.”

“Well, you know about this better than I do. I’ve never even shot a basketball.” Sam turned to look at Steve abruptly.

“You’re kidding me, right?”

“No.” Steve replied with amusement clear on his face while Sam, for his part, stared at him with utter exasperation.

“You can’t live in Harlem and have no ball skills whatsoever. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” Steve replied with a shrug.

“No, no, no. I don’t know how you guys do it in Brooklyn, but you ain’t about to just sit on your ass and misrepresent Harlem. Get up.”

“You serious?” Steve asked, giving him a dubious look. Sam threw the ball at him and Steve caught it just in the nick of time, standing up from his place on the bench.

“Shoot it.” Sam all but ordered. Steve threw the ball in the general vicinity of the hoop without even looking. It completely missed.

“Come on, man. Try.” Sam said, retrieving the ball and passing it back to Steve. Steve sighed before turning to the basket, his brow furrowed with concentration before he threw it at the hoop. The ball hit against the backboard and went flying back at Sam.

“See? It’s hopeless. Guess I gotta move.” Steve said with a shrug.

“No, you’re not giving up that easy. Focus. Aim for the square, not the rim.” Sam instructed. Steve refocused himself and dribbled the ball before shooting. The basketball circled the rim before falling out onto the court.

“Close, but you gotta relax. Here, man.” Sam grabbed the basketball and approached Steve, standing behind him. He placed the ball in his hands and gently began fixing his form.

“Your fingers are way too tense. You gotta loosen them up and hold the ball here.” Sam said, moving Steve’s fingers to his will.

“Move your leg here.” Sam continued, knocking his shoe against Steve’s.

“Focus on the box and then just shoot.” Sam guided Steve’s hands as he shot the basketball and it effortlessly went into the hoop.

“I did it.” Steve said happily.

“Yup.” Sam replied congratulatory before looking at Steve and subsequently ended up staring him dead in the eyes. He only just now realized the position they were. He was pressed to Steve’s back, his arms wrapped around him, their breath mingling together. Sam found himself absentmindedly leaning in ever so slightly. If either leaned in just a little closer, they’d almost be…

Sam immediately backed away from Steve, furtively looking around to see if anyone had just seen them. He didn’t even want to think about what they had just looked like or what could've happened.

“Basically, that’s how you do it.” Sam said, rubbing the back of his head. He felt anxiety blooming in his chest as Steve turned around to face him. He stared at him questioningly for a moment before giving him a soft smile.

“Thanks for today. I know I say that all the time.”

“You’re paying me, it’s not like I’m doing some kind of public service.” Sam mumbled in reply.

“You’re helping me graduate, six bucks an hour isn’t that much in the face of that.” Sam didn’t really know how to respond to that. The two stared at one another for a moment, neither speaking before Steve shook his head.

“Anyway, I really do have to go. My Ma’s probably worrying about me. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah, of course.” Steve nodded and gave him a smile once more before leaving the park. Sam sighed heavily once he was out of sight and dropped down onto the bench. His conversation with Misty suddenly played back in his head. Was Steve really into dudes? If he was, did he think Sam was too? And what the hell was Sam thinking leaning closer like that. What the hell was he thinking?

~*~*~

Sam wasn't sure what to do or how to feel when it came to Steve. He liked him, he was a cool guy and a good friend. But after the park, Misty’s words were now constantly in the back of Sam's mind whenever he interacted with him. The way Steve looked at him, it wasn’t… it looked like…

Sam was not gay, he already knew that about himself. He couldn't be, he was raised not to believe in that lifestyle and he didn't. If his parents thought that he was...

Maybe he was wrong. Maybe the rumors were just that. Maybe Steve didn't even feel that way at all. Maybe he was just weird. Either way, Sam couldn't decide whether he liked it or not. No, that’s not true. Sam knew he didn’t like it and furthermore, he couldn’t. Still, he didn’t avoid Steve. If anything, they probably got closer overtime.

Sam should cut him off, nip whatever this was in the bud.

He didn't.

~*~*~

"So, you going to Cottonmouth's party tonight?" Misty asked as they left math class and walked to his locker.

"Mama Mabel is letting Cornell have a party?" Sam questioned incredulously.

"She's out of town and his uncle is letting him have Harlem's Paradise on the DL."

"If my parents let me, I guess I can."

"Tell 'em I'll be there and don't tell them it's at Paradise and you'll be fine."

"You want me to lie to my parents?"

"It won't be the first time. Come on, I want to go out and have fun. Winter recess is coming up and all we've done during this school year is focus on basketball and studying." She insisted. Sam still looked at her reluctantly. Misty paused, her fingers toying with her cornrowed braids.

“Your boyfriend’s coming.” She said, leaning in closer to Sam as she spoke. Sam gave her an alarmed and confused look.

“Steve’s got an invite. I bet he’d love it if you came.” Sam rolled his eyes, turning back to his locker.

“For the last time, there is nothing happening there. Stop imagining things.” He replied. At the same time, the park flashed in his mind.

“Look, I’m not judging you. Honestly? I don’t want to know whether there’s anything to judge you for. I’m just saying he’s going to be there and you should tag along too.” Sam turned to look at the shorter girl. She had a guarded look in her eyes rendering her face unreadable.

“What happened to ‘be careful’?”

“You still should, I just… I’m your friend and I want you happy, that’s all.” Misty’s face was still implacable but her voice was sincere. Sam sighed, he couldn’t deal with this right now.

"If going to this party means so much to you, I'll try to go."

"That’s not what I meant and you know it but good. I’ll see you there." Misty replied, kissing his cheek.

He glanced down the hall and saw Steve looking between him and Misty with a weird look on his face. He smiled at Sam when he noticed he was looking at him before returning to the conversation he was having with Luke. Sam ignored the ever-present pit in his stomach that Steve always inspired and walked down the hall with Misty.

~*~*~

The party was tame compared to anything else that went on in Harlem's Paradise considering it doubled as a brothel and a strip club most days. With a bunch of fifteen to seventeen-year-olds inside there was much less sex and drug activity. It wasn't completely absent but it was significantly lowered at least. The music was loud over the stereo and the club was packed with people dancing, eating, drinking and having a good time. Sam stuck by Misty's side the whole time, he didn't want to get lost in the crowd and end up in something he didn’t want to be involved in.

“Hey, y’all.” Sam and Misty turned to see Claire and Candace approaching them.

“Come to the VIP with us?”

“The VIP?” Sam asked doubtfully.

“Yeah. It’s quieter, fewer of us, more intimate. Luke is going to be up there.” Candace explained, as if the mention of Luke would sway them. Honestly, it did. At least it swayed Misty. As much as she liked to deny it, no girl was safe from Luke’s corny lines and biceps.

“I guess it beats hanging out down here, right?” Misty said to Sam. She framed it like a question but she was dragging him behind Claire and Candace before he knew it. They entered a room upstairs. It held a window that overlooked the club downstairs, a few couches, a painting of Billie Holiday and a piano. Sam looked around and saw Cornell, Steve, Mariah, Shades, Tone and Luke there sitting in a circle.

“Hey, we’re still down two girls. I ain’t no fag, I’m not trying to kiss a dude.” Tone complained as they entered the room, Candace closing the door behind them.

“Shut up, Tone. One of the girls is my cousin, you hear me complaining? Stop being a little pussy or leave.” Cornell said to his right-hand man.

“What exactly is going on here?” Misty asked, pausing before walking any further into the room.

“Spin the bottle.” Sam and Misty shared dubious looks.

“It’ll be fun.” Claire said, nudging them to the circle.

“Ground rules: the bottle is always right. Doesn’t matter who it lands on, you gotta kiss that person for at least five seconds.” Mariah announced.

“Since when are those the rules?” Tone protested.

“Since I said so.” Mariah answered forcefully. Tone kissed his teeth.

“Fine but if you try any funny shit, white boy, I’m kicking your teeth in.” Tone practically hissed at Steve. Sam opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it again.

“You could try but you’re just going to get your ass beat… again.” Steve replied. Tone glared at him in response.

“Hey, y’all ain’t fighting where no bets are placed so shut up about it. And since you wanna be so damn contrary, Tone, you can go first.” Cornell mediated. Tone grabbed the beer bottle and spun it.

It landed on Candace.

Tone all but sent a special thanks to heaven before crawling to the middle and sharing a kiss that Candace ended the second time permitted even though Tone tried to prolong it.

“Alright, idiot. Next person spin.” Cottonmouth said, pulling Tone back. Shades reached forward next and spun the bottle—landing on Mariah.

“Come get some, Hernan.” The two leaned over and kissed each other passionately, garnering a disgusted noise from her cousin.

“Mmm.” Mariah uttered with satisfaction after the kiss lasted well beyond five seconds. Misty spun next, landing on Claire.

“Ooh!” Shades whooped.

“Y’all better go ahead. You kiss who you land on, those the rules.” Tone reminded, a leering smile on his lips. Misty and Claire shared an eyeroll before they crawled to the middle of the circle and shared a short, chaste kiss. It was Sam’s turn next and he felt a pit in his stomach. There were nine other people in the circle, which meant there was only a 1 to 9 chance he’d land on Steve but that was still a chance that shook him to the core.

“Hey, Wilson! You spinning or what?” Luke said, snapping Sam out of his daze. Sam leaned forward and gave the bottle a spin, saying a looping prayer in his head for the bottle to land on anyone but Steve. He’d take Tone over Steve. No, actually, he wouldn’t but it was a near thing.

He watched on baited breath as it slowed its rotation when it reached Luke, it continued to spin slowly, edging itself past Cornell and landing on Steve. Sam couldn’t ask for a re-spin because it was clearly pointing at the blonde. Sam stared at him and didn’t move a muscle.

“Uh-uh. The rules are the rules. If I had to kiss Misty, you two better get to smooching.” Claire protested.

Sam met Steve’s eyes. He couldn’t read what he was thinking but he was staring at Sam like he was waiting to see what he would do. Sam got up on his knees and started to crawl to the middle of the circle, Steve meeting him there. He paused as he got there, staring Steve in the face.

“Yo, just kiss. Some of us want to keep playing.” Shades said, annoyance in his voice. Sam took a deep breath before leaning in, pressing his lips to Steve’s quickly and then pulling away.

“That wasn’t five seconds.” Mariah said. There was amusement clear in her voice. She knew Sam was uncomfortable, everyone probably did, but she pushed and no one stopped her. He glanced back at Steve. His face was still unreadable but his eyes were trained on Sam’s lips rather than any other place on him. Sam breathed out a harsh breath.

“I have to?” He questioned.

“Yes.”

“Yup.

“Yeah.” The circle chorused. Sam clamped down on his panic and anxiety before leaning back into Steve. He swallowed before pressing their lips together again. Sam didn’t close his eyes because he didn’t want to get lost in the kiss but he could see Steve’s face. His eyes were closed and his face was relaxed as he returned the kiss. Sam didn’t register anything about the kiss, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t catalogue the roughness of Steve’s lips from him constantly chewing them or the warmth of them or the soft nudging of his tongue against his mouth.

The five seconds dragged like a mother but Sam pulled away after counting to five in his head.

“Is that good enough?” He asked, glancing at Mariah.

“Yeah, that’s good enough.” She replied, her tone having lost its amusement as she eyed him and Steve. Sam made to crawl back to his spot but the door to the room was unceremoniously swung open, causing it to bang against the wall roughly. All the kids whipped around towards the sound, staring with alarm. They only minutely relaxed when they saw it was Willis who entered the room.

“Hey, what the fuck man? You trying to break the door and get my ass in trouble?” Cornell complained, jumping up to make sure the larger boy hadn’t caused any permanent damage.

“I’m good for whatever breaks.” Willis replied in his usual smooth yet menacing tone.

“That ain’t the point.”

“That is the point.” Willis said, a threat underlying his tone as he glared at Cornell.

“Uh, no it isn’t.” Mariah repeated.

“What the hell you want anyway?” She asked. Willis ignored her as he took in the scene, his eyes lingering on Steve and Sam too long.

“What kind of gay shit y’all up to in here?”

“None of your damn business, Shaft.”

“Man, what do you want?” Luke asked his brother. Willis gave Sam and Steve one more look before turning to Cornell.

“You and I got business to attend to. Private business.” Cottonmouth sucked his teeth before nodding at the circle.

“Y’all get out of here. Go back to the party.” The crowd dispersed quickly, Claire and Candace being the first ones out the door quickly followed by Luke. Mariah, Tone and Shades dawdled the slightest before leaving as well. Steve walked ahead of Sam and Misty briskly and the two friends quickly left the room before either boy held them back. Sam’s eyes followed Steve as he stormed down the staircase and made his way out of Harlem’s Paradise.

“I gotta go.” He said, turning to Misty. Misty was staring at him with a scrutinizing look on her face.

“Alright.” She said after a moment.

“You gonna be alright?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, go.” Sam nodded and pushed his way through the crowd of people in the club. He made his way outside, the cold air hitting his face. He looked up and down the block and saw Steve nearly stomping his way down the street, his shoulders tense and his walk stiff.

“Hey!” Sam called after him. He glanced back at Sam but didn’t stop his quick pace down the street. Sam ran down the block to catch up with the blonde.

“I don’t want to talk.” Steve said pre-emptively.

“Too bad.” Sam answered.

“Don’t you have something to do? Watch out for Misty or head home to your family or something that doesn’t include me?” Steve asked.

“We live on the same block anyway.” Sam replied. Steve kissed his teeth and continued forward, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other before he abruptly stopped walking.

“Sam, I can’t… I can’t walk with you right now.”

“What do you mean?” Sam asked, looking at him with confusion.

"You can't be standing next to me, alright? I can't..." Steve cut himself off, chuckling humorlessly.

“I’m an idiot.” He said.

"I'm so damn stupid."

"Steve, are you okay?" Sam asked helplessly as Steve continued to laugh roughly.

"Do I sound okay?" He retorted.

"Not really, no." Steve sighed and it sounded tired, tired in a way no 17-year-old should be. Sam wondered if he did that or at the very least contributed to it and he felt remorse stifle him at the prospect.

He watched as Steve glanced up and down the street before nodding for Sam to follow him into an alleyway. It was miraculously empty. Usually there'd be some kind of drug or sex activity but not now. Sam followed reluctantly behind Steve, not sure if he wanted to be caught in this narrow space with him. Once they got far enough into the alley, Steve abruptly turned around to face him.

"I like you, Sam." He declared. Sam felt his heart sink to his stomach but he powered through it and played dumb.

"I like you too."

"Not the way I like you, I don't think so anyway." Sam stared at Steve gobsmacked. He was sure his mouth was hanging open.

"Steve, I'm not gay." He said haltingly once he had the sense to answer.

"I'm not either."

"Then what are we talking about right now?" Sam asked desperately.

"I don't know. I'm as lost as you. I've liked girls before and I've liked guys too. Now, I know I like you. From the moment we met, I knew you were different. I was right. You're charming and funny and understanding and compassionate. I like you. And I thought you liked me back."

"Why would think that?" Sam questioned.

"I don't know. All the talks after tutoring." Steve threw out.

"I was being nice. We're friends." Sam shrugged.

"All the fights you help me out with."

"Because it's unnecessary and you're not helping your hands fighting if you really want to be an artist."

"Then what the hell happened at the basketball court?"

"Nothing happened at the basketball court." Sam replied sternly.

"Sam, that wasn't nothing."

"It was nothing."

"It wasn't and that kiss upstairs. I thought... it felt like you felt something too but you looked like you'd rather jump off a building than kiss me. I mean, I don't think I'm awful looking or anything. You could at least look like you wouldn't rather roll around in cacti than talk to me." Steve said. His voice started off heartbroken and when he tried to inject some levity into it, it didn't really work. Sam shook his head, rubbing his hands down his face.

"I don't know what to say to you, Steve."

"Tell me the truth. Tell me you don't like me back. Tell me no part of you feels the way that I do. Look me in the eye and tell me that and I can move on and forget all about this." Sam stared Steve in his eyes. They were too blue, too deep, betraying too much emotion. Everything in Sam wanted to look away but he needed to end this now. He took a deep breath and stared Steve down.

"I don't feel that way about you." He said flatly. Steve rose an eyebrow at him.

"Okay. Now can you say it like you mean it?" Sam breathed a harsh breath, shaking any doubts or worries from his head. He had to say this. It was the truth. So why was it so hard to say? He didn't feel the way Steve did. He couldn't for many reasons. He wasn't gay being the biggest and most obvious reason. He didn't think about Steve beyond friendship. He didn't think about his smile at the restaurant or the satisfied look he got when he understood the material Sam tutored him on or the way his body felt pressed against his on the basketball court or the way Sam could just feel when Steve was looking at him or the way his lips felt against his. Definitely not about the fact that he wanted more.

"I... I don't feel..." He stuttered.

"Sam." Steve practically pleaded.

"I don't... I-I... I can't say it." Sam admitted, looking down.

"Why not?" Steve asked, almost begging.

"Because it's— it's not true. Not completely." Steve stared at him, shaking his head.

"You can't have this both ways, Sam. Either you like me or you don't. It's really that simple. I can't deal with maybes or halfways. I don't want to. It's not fair." Steve's voice sounded angry. Sam deserved it.

"I know. I know I'm being unfair. I'm just so confused by all of this. I don't know what to think or what to feel." Sam replied. His eyes were growing watery and he swiped at them with frustration. Steve didn't look much better off than him.

"I'm sorry." Sam told him, biting his lip to stem off the tears. Steve nodded in response.

"I'm sorry too." The blonde took a step towards him and when Sam didn't stop him he closed the distance between them and pulled Sam into a hug. Sam returned the embrace, his chest rattling with pent up emotion. Steve pulled back slightly and stared down at Sam.

"I have an idea. Let's just... test this and if you don't want it, you can just stop me."

"I— okay." Sam replied. His heart thudded in his chest as Steve leaned down. He pressed his forehead against Sam's, allowing their breaths to mingle for a time. He could smell the faint tones of liquor on Steve's breath. There was something else too, something almost like caramel but not quite. Before Sam could decipher the smell, Steve lips were pressed against his. It was a chaste kiss, a simple touch of lips between two people. He paused, as if allowing Sam time to protest but he didn't say anything. Steve pressed another kiss to his lips, this one slightly longer than the last one but still just as light. Sam could barely feel his lips against his beyond a brush. He found himself leaning into the kiss with a firmer touch. Steve's lips, despite their roughness, were pliant against his and accommodating.

Steve broke that kiss and didn't lean into a third. Sam got the idea that it was up to him if this went any further. He steeled himself, clamped down on the fear and panic in the back of his head and focused on the want fluttering in his chest instead. He leaned up as he pressed his lips against Steve's. He kissed harder than Steve had, his hands gripping Steve's shoulders to pull him closer. His warmth enveloped him despite the harsh cold of the December night.

Steve groaned lowly in the back of his throat, one of his arms wrapping around Sam's waist to pull him even closer so their bodies were flush against one another. He could feel Steve moving them and gasped lightly as his back was pressed into a brick wall. Steve’s tongue snaked its way into Sam’s mouth then, lightly tangling and pushing against his own. Sam didn’t want the kiss to end, he could stand in this alleyway with Steve forever, forget the entire world and all the reasons why this was WRONG WRONG WRONG and instead focus on the way Steve ever so slightly bit Sam’s lip and the way he caressed his body, holding it firmly to his own, and how safe Sam felt trapped between Steve and the wall behind him. He only pulled away from the kiss when their hips ground together, sending a buzz of interest shooting through Sam’s body. He wasn’t ready for that yet.

He leaned his head back against the bricks, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. Steve didn’t look any better, his face slightly red from the impromptu make-out session.

“That was…” Steve trailed off, obviously wanting Sam to finish the sentence.

“Good, really good.” Sam replied, nodding.

“Better than the first kiss, that’s for sure.” Steve replied sarcastically. Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’m pretty sure everyone would’ve known something was off with us if we kissed like that in there. I don’t see that ending well for us.” Steve softened then, leaning his head down against Sam’s.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks.” He whispered against his lips.

“Steve, this could be the biggest mistake of our lives. It could cost us our lives.” Sam sighed.

“It’s not like we’re going to go announcing anything to the school. I won’t say anything. But you’re only thinking about here and now. We’re going to be adults soon and we’re going to get out of here. The world isn’t just Harlem. When we leave we can do anything we want and if that’s mean being together, if we’re still together, then we can be together. Besides, it’s just six more months to graduation.” Steve plotted out. Sam looked down. It sounded easy enough when he said it but there were still so many mitigating factors.

However, Sam couldn’t even think of those factors right now. The kisses had made his brain short-circuit or something because all he could see, all he could want, all he could think about was Steve. Nothing else mattered. He looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah. Six months. It won’t be so hard.”

~*~*~

26 years later…

Sam had a small heart attack later that day. Nothing he could find in his closet was deemed as adequate for seeing Steve that night. Luckily Misty came by early and they were able to hotfoot it to the nearest store and buy them both new outfits. Misty looked like a wet dream with her curly locks pulled back in a poofy 'fro wearing a tight, red sweater dress with the shoulders cut out. Sam shot for casual but sexy in jeans that hugged his ass with a red t-shirt loose enough to breath in but tight enough to be snug against his chest. He pulled a nice blue leather jacket over it. Misty nodded her approval and Sam didn't let himself have doubts, right up until they were standing outside of Harlem's Paradise.

"Oh my God, what the hell am I doing?"

"Going inside hopefully." Misty replied.

"I haven't seen him in years, 26 years. That is two and a half, count 'em, two and a half decades."

"Well, thank you for the impromptu math lesson. Can we go inside now?"

"I can't go in. I can't see him. This outfit is horrible and I'm... old and... no, no I can't do this."

"First of all, we paid good money to look this delicious so don't even start there. Two, he's the same age as you and so am I, so if you call either of us old again I'm going to kick your ass back to New Orleans. Now I didn't get dressed up like this to stand outside playing games. Either you come inside or... well, that's your only option really because if you don't come willingly I'm dragging you in by your ear and I'd hate to embarrass you."

"You'd love to embarrass me."

"Maybe just a little bit. Am I gonna have to get physical?"

"Maybe a little. Push me inside?"

"So you can say you resisted later on if this doesn't go as planned?" Misty asked knowingly. Sam motioned her to his back and she rolled her eyes before gently guiding him inside of the club. As usual, there was a fair amount of people inside. There was a band playing soulful blues music right now, the kind of music you rocked to and immersed yourself in. Sam couldn't even think of doing that knowing that Steve was somewhere in this club.

"Ooh, who’s he?" Sam turned to see a tall, lean brown-skinned man with his back against the wall near the back of the bar.

"Mama needs to go take a crack at that."

"You are not leaving me."

"I most certainly am. What? You want me to stick around and be you and Steve's third wheel? No thanks, I’m going to try to get lucky. Your man is by the tables." Sam turned as Misty walked away. He could see Steve sitting in the velvet seats at one of the tables with another man. Sam paused wondering who the other man was. Maybe Steve had a boyfriend, or hell, a husband. Maybe Sam shouldn't even be here, maybe he should just leave.

That decision was taken out of Sam's hands when Steve spotted him and smiled brightly at him. Sam couldn't stop the answering smile from spreading across his face. He walked over to Steve and was slightly mystified as Steve got up and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Hey, Hon. I've been waiting forever for you."

"You have?" Sam asked dubiously.

"Yeah. Jack here was just keeping me company while I waited for you." Steve explained, communicating with Sam through their eyes. Sam nodded as he understood what Steve was getting at.

"That's nice of him. Well, I'm here now, so..." Sam trailed off, suggestively, looking at the man sitting at the table.

"Alright, I know when to take a hint. If things don't work out though, you can find me here." The guy said, grinning at Steve before walking off.

"Well, he seemed... persistent." Sam commented as Steve left his side and returned to his seat.

"That's one way to put it. He caught me as soon as I walked in the door, wouldn't leave me alone even when I said I was meeting my boyfriend. You're a life saver." Steve commented as Sam sat down across from him.

"And you still attract just as much trouble as always." Sam replied.

"It wasn't a fight this time. That counts for something." Sam made a noise of slight disagreement but didn't otherwise answer. He didn't realize he was staring at Steve smiling until the other man said something.

"What?"

"Huh?"

"You're staring." Sam opened his mouth to say something but a chuckle fell from his lips instead.

"Nothing, it's just been so long. I... I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

"Yeah, I didn't either. Things got so..."

"Yeah." The two sat quietly, nostalgia providing a contemplative silence between the two before Steve looked up with a smile.

"Hey, what if we get out of here? I know a good Jamaican spot."

"Oh, did 25 years help your weak tastebuds?" Sam teased. Steve scoffed in response.

"That's the way it is? Still, after all these years?"

"That's the way it is."

"Alright, let's go find out."

Chapter Text

“Wow, you really give white people bad names.” Sam commented, watching Steve try to power through their curried goat.

He decided to order the same thing they had during their first hangout. It was working out just as well as last time.

“All these years and your taste buds are weak as ever,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“Hey, at least I’m not practically hemorrhaging like last time.”

“You want some milk?” Sam asked playfully, shoving the spiced meat into his mouth. 

Steve rolled his eyes.

“I can handle some spice.”

“Your tolerance has grown in the last 26 years then.” 

Steve shook his head at that.

“Geez, 26 years. It doesn’t feel like that long. God, we’re old,” he lamented, wistfully.

“I’d agree with you, but Misty said if I use that word again, she’d kick my ass.”

“How is Misty anyway?”

“She’s good. She’s Misty. I don’t get to see her as much as I’d like being in New Orleans. I’m a therapist. I work weird hours, so it’s hard to coordinate visits, but we manage it when we can. How’s your mom?”

“She’s good, healthy. She had a TB scare from living in that death trap, but I managed to get her a new place with my work on commission. She wanted it near Pop’s barbershop. I’m pretending not to know she did it so she could be close to Fish.”

“Wait, your work on commission?”

“I’m an artist.”

“You are?” Sam asked, delight clear in his voice.

“Yeah…” Steve replied, trailing off. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just... I remember how much you wanted it in high school. It felt so far away back then, like this pipe dream that was never going to come true, but you did it. I’m happy for you.” 

Steve paused before smiling at him.

“I guess 25 years has kind of made me forget that part. But what about you? What have you been up to? How’s your family?”

“They’re them. My brother is living down in New Orleans. He has his own business, a wife and three kids. My sister’s still in New York. She just had a kid with her boyfriend a few months ago so I came to see them. My parents are as close as ever. Dad is the bishop of a church down there and Mama owns a restaurant. We’re all still close and not just because we live so close to each other, especially since I… since I came out. Officially anyway.” 

Steve looked at him with surprise.

“You did?” 

Sam nodded in response.

“It wasn’t easy at first. After what happened it was kind of swept under the rug and forgotten about. Then I turned 21 and I had to decide what I was doing with myself, so I told them the truth, told them it… us, we weren’t a fluke or a lapse in judgment. I might as well have dropped a nuke on ’em, but Gideon and Sarah didn’t care really, and Mama accepted it sooner rather than later. Things stayed frosty with Dad and me until I joined the air force. As it turned out, he’d rather have a son that sleeps with guys than a dead son. He was pissed when I told him I enlisted, but it brought us together. Now we’re in a healthy place.”

“The air force must’ve been tough.”

“It was,” Sam affirmed simply. 

He didn’t want to get into that. Inevitably, he’d start thinking of Riley.

“It’s good that you’re in a good place with your family. I’m happy you guys are closer. I know before you couldn’t… I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks. I feel like I should apologize. I know it wasn’t easy with me back then. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“No, I do. A lot of things happened that I regret. I hurt you more than once, and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I was pushy. I didn’t try to understand where you were coming from.” 

The two shared a look of understanding and remorse between them before Sam broke his gaze.

“So, you gotta tell me all about your artwork. Don’t leave a single detail out,” Sam demanded playfully. 

Steve shrugged.

“It’s not that riveting.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” Sam responded, looking at Steve expectantly. 

Steve watched him for a second before giving in.

“Fine, fine, but don’t complain to me later when you’re bored to tears.” 

Sam listened with rapt attention as Steve launched into the story of how he got his start. At the same time, he couldn’t stop a part of his mind from casting itself back to when they were young.

26 years ago…

“So, basically, you move this 1 on the other side of the equation. These will cancel each other out. Then you divide, and you’ll get x is equal to -5/2. You can just leave it as a fraction,” Sam explained as he and Steve sat in his bedroom going over their math homework.

Sam usually wouldn’t bring Steve home, but the house was empty, and he just lived down the block. Steve mentioned math was tripping him up. Sam wasn’t his math tutor, but he could help his… he could help Steve. If Steve let him anyway.

“Steve,” Sam said in a firm tone.

“Huh?” The blonde asked, popping his head up from where he’d been nuzzling his cheek against Sam’s denim-clad knee like a cat. It’d be cute if Sam wasn’t still terrified by all of this.

“You’re supposed to be focusing on your work, not me. If you’re gonna pass, you need to pay attention.”

“I heard everything you said. I get it.”

Sam gave him a look of disbelief.

“What? I did! You did the thing with the 1 and the division, I get it.”

“That explanation does not inspire confidence.”

“Sam, I’m going to pass this class, and it will be thanks to you. I get it, I promise.”

Sam stared at Steve suspiciously for another moment.

“You don’t even need help with this stuff, do you?”

“Not really, no. I just wanted to hang out with you,” Steve admitted.

“You could hang out with me without it being under false pretenses.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t be able to do this unless we were alone.”

“Do what?”

Just then, Steve leaned up and pressed his lips to Sam’s. Sam pulled back, startled.

“What? No one’s around,” Steve defended, oblivious to the fact that Sam’s heart was pounding in his chest and not in a good way.

“It’s… I just… it’s nothing,” Sam replied, pulling Steve back into the kiss.

The truth was it wasn’t nothing. Sam was terrified. Constantly and inexplicably terrified. Ever since that first kiss a month and a half ago, the two had been tiptoeing around whatever relationship this was. They had shared more than a couple kisses after that, but it was mostly just testing the waters, mostly spending more time together. Nothing between them changed in public, it couldn’t. It wasn’t like they could hold hands in the hallways like Misty and Luke who had recently begun dating. They couldn’t kiss and practically dry hump each other like Mariah and Shades. Sam didn’t even let Steve touch him in public anymore.

In one particularly embarrassing moment, he came bounding down the hall to give Sam the good news about another passing biology test score. Unlike the last time he had done so, when Steve went in for a hug, Sam pushed him back and then awkwardly pat his shoulder.

Steve had looked slightly hurt and confused before walking away in significantly lower spirits. Misty had given Sam a look but didn’t say anything about it. She never asked him about his relationship with Steve, only ever indirectly referencing it.

The point was Sam didn’t want anyone knowing that he was… Gay? Bisexual? Curious? Whatever label anyone wanted to put on it, he was a preacher’s son first and foremost. Plus, they lived in Harlem, stepping out with his white boyfriend was only a possibility if he wanted both he and Steve to be beaten to pulps. That was if his father didn’t get his hands on him first. It was hard to have careless make-out sessions with Steve with all that swirling in his head. Never mind they rarely found a private place to be careless. They could go to Steve’s, but Sam’s mom did not trust the cleanliness of that death trap, and Sam’s place was rarely ever empty like it was now.

In private, when they were actually able to find time and solitude, it was different than their public personas. In private, Steve sat close to him and generally crowded his space. Sometimes Sam liked it, it made him feel safe. Other times it made him feel caged in. Steve liked touching him. It could be rubbing his cheek or pressing himself to Sam’s side or merely brushing their hands against one another. Steve was a very tactile person. Sometimes Sam liked knowing that Steve was always aware of where he was, what he was doing. Sam was the middle child in his immediate family and one of many among his extended. He could get a little lost sometimes, but not with Steve. On the other hand, Sam would get flashes of the casual way his family denounced queer people or think about the way his mother would turn her head in disgust at seeing two men hold hands. The thought of her looking at him like that could quickly kill whatever mood Steve was trying to set.

Just like now.

Steve pulled away from the kiss and stared at Sam questioningly before sighing.

“You’re thinking too hard about all of this.”

“I’m not. I’m just—”

“Yes, you are. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Sam answered a little too quickly. That scared him, because what reason had Steve given him to make him trust him? Yet, he did.

“Then stop thinking and just be here with me,” Steve said.

Sam nodded after a moment and let Steve lean in to kiss him once more. The kiss started soft and slow. Sam could feel even the most minute movement Steve’s lips made against his, every muscle and nerve between them practically roasting over an open flame. Steve pushed him to lie on his back. His heart thumped as he was pressed into the pillows behind him and Steve settled between his legs. He could feel his worries and fears beating on the walls of his brain, begging to be let in, but Sam trusted Steve. He gave himself over to the other boy and let himself get lost in this embrace.

Despite his misgivings, Steve’s lips were a new development Sam was happy to explore. Despite himself, he enjoyed getting to touch Steve this way, feeling his skin and his body against his. He revelled in the pressure he applied as he pressed Sam into the bed, their hips lightly grinding against one another. It wasn’t something Sam ever thought he’d get enough of, not while they were doing it. The doubts always came after the thrill had passed.

He moaned as Steve’s hips gyrated against his.

“Is this okay?” Steve pulled back long enough to ask.

“Yeah,” Sam replied, breathing heavily.

He shifted under Steve so their groins were pressed together and felt a smile ghost his lips when Steve’s breath came out harsher.

He could feel himself growing hard as they continued rutting against one another, Steve was getting hard too. They’d done this once. Just once and it was kind of an accident. They were at Steve’s place, making out vigorously and grinding against one another when Steve unexpectedly came in his jeans. He had turned that particular shade of red only he could manage and stumbled out an apology and offer to help Sam. He’d been hard anyway, so he ground against Steve’s thigh until he hit his orgasm too. He had to wash his jeans and boxers immediately so his mother wouldn’t see. They didn’t talk about it after. They both felt too awkward and embarrassed to verbalize the experience.

“I wanna try something new. If you let me.”

Sam nodded in response and watched with apprehension as Steve unbuttoned his jeans. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest uncomfortably as Steve pulled his zipper down. Before he really knew what he was doing, he was springing out of the bed like there was a hellfire under him.

“Sam?” Steve asked.

Sam stood with his back to him staring at the wall of his bedroom.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t. I—I’m not—I…”

He shook his head as the words got all gummed up in his mouth.

“Hey,” Steve said softly, getting off the bed and coming around to look at Sam.

Sam reluctantly raised his head to meet his eyes and was met with a soft, understanding gaze.

“It’s okay. If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. I’m not going to force you into anything you don’t wanna do. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sam answered after a moment.

He let Steve pull him into a comforting embrace though he felt he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing. He figured this feeling would go away once he and Steve started this... thing between them, but if anything, it just got worse and more persistent. Sam burrowed further in Steve’s arms and tried to ignore the conflicting thoughts he had about it.

~*~*~

“So, let me get this straight: you spend however long denying to me that anything’s going on between you two at all and now that you two are actually together and can get some action, you punk out. That about right?”

“Fuck you, Misty,” Sam replied to his best friend as they stood at the back of Sam’s father’s church helping to load boxes into the van to be driven down to the local shelter.

“Ooh, we’re on holy ground. You better watch your mouth before your father hears,” Misty teased.

“Seriously though, what happened?”

“Why does something need to have happened?” Sam answered, picking up a box of canned goods.

“‘Cause you’re a teenaged boy. Being a sex-deviant kind of goes with the package. As much of a good church boy as Luke is, he sure as hell does not mind some get down. I bet it’s twice as worse with two boys. So what happened?” Misty murmured discreetly, leaning in to whisper the sensitive information to him

Sam kissed his teeth in response.

“I don’t know, I just felt weird. Like maybe I was making a mistake. I started thinking of everything that might happen if anyone else finds out, and I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.”

“You know what I think?”

“I’m hoping you’ll tell me.”

“Okay. Remember when your mom took us to 5th avenue to that fancy, schmancy bridal store? She was sewing the wedding dress for my cousin Delia’s wedding. De was marrying that white dude who let her go crazy on the budget, which meant she wanted overpriced everything. Me and you, two little nine-year-olds, walked in that store behind your mother and we were the only black people there. Like, it was bad enough walking down the street with all those people but the store with all the white people and the white walls and the white dresses; it was all just too much. You nearly had a breakdown, couldn’t wait to leave so you could see some people like you again.”

“What’s the point?”

“Point is I think you’re too shut-in. I think you and St… the person who we won’t name should go on a date, away from Harlem. Go to the city. Hell, go to the Village or Chelsea, you’ll be better off there. Just go somewhere where you two won’t feel so out of place. Maybe then you’ll feel comfortable again.”

“How we doing?”

Sam and Misty turned as his father came outside of the church. Misty grabbed the last box and slid it into the van before closing the door.

“All done.”

“Good. Thought you’d two still be out here chit-chatting and getting nothing done.”

“Actually, we were talking about maybe going out tomorrow night. Nothing too late or crazy, but we were going to go roller-skating, maybe bowling too.”

“How many people we talking?”

“Me, Sam, Steve, Claire, Candace, maybe Luke.”

“Three guys and three young ladies? This isn’t a date, is it?” Paul asked.

“No, Pastor Wilson. Just a group of friends hanging out on a Saturday.”

“In that case, I don’t see why not. As long as you come home at a decent hour.”

“Cool, thanks Pastor Wilson.”

“Tell your mother I’ll be home in time for dinner, Sammy,” Paul requested as he climbed into the driver’s seat and Misty closed the trunk.

“Will do, Dad.”

Sam watched his father drive away before turning to Misty.

“You don’t think I maybe should’ve asked Steve first before you told my father?”

“Why? He’s gonna say yes.”

“What about everyone you said would be there? What if Dad sees them walking around when we’re supposed to be together?”

“Luke’s out of town. Candace, Claire, and I are hitting up Coney Island, so we won’t be here. It’ll work out,” Misty reassured him.

Sam shook his head at that.

“You seem really cool about this. A few months ago, you were warning me away from him. Now you’re helping me set up dates behind my parents’ backs.”

“Sam, you’re my friend. My best friend. I don’t want you to be hurt. That being said, I also just want you to be yourself. Whatever that means. I don’t care if you’re gay or bi or whatever you feel you are. I just love you.”

Sam smiled at that. He could see Misty was blushing, her skin not dark enough to hide it. He could’ve hugged her and thanked her, but that wasn’t how they operated.

“You love me, huh? Wow Misty, I don’t know what to say to that. I can’t say it’s a complete shock, but I gotta tell you, I’m a taken man,” Sam jested.

“Oh, I should’ve never said anything.”

“No, no, no. You’re too late. You can’t have any of this. It’s your loss really. You didn’t appreciate what you had when you had it,” he continued, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes at his jokes.

“Fine, I take it back. I don’t love you.”

“No take-backs. You already said it.”

Misty pushed him lightly as the two walked down the sidewalk. Sam felt a light smile on his lips as she did.

When they got back to Sam’s place from the church, Sam could see Sarah Rogers at the door of her rundown home, laden with bags. Sam nodded at Misty to go into his house. He jogged lightly down the street towards the frail, headstrong blonde woman.

“Here, I’ll help you out, Mrs. Rogers,” Sam offered, climbing the stairs, carefully stepping over the third one which was liable to crumble under the weight of gravity and its poor construction at any moment.

“Oh, thank you, Samuel. I think Steven may be asleep. Sleeps like the dearly departed, that one,” the older woman lilted in her unique accent, a mixture of an Irish brogue and something distinctly Brooklyn.

Sam took most of the bags from her as she opened the door, having to shove it open with her shoulder as it wouldn’t budge. The inside of the house looked better than the outside, but that was because Mrs. Rogers covered the water-stained walls with wallpaper and hung up pictures. Whatever holes there were in the floor was covered with mismatched tiling or carpet, which made walking something of a minefield to someone unfamiliar with the terrain. The air had a stale scent to it that she attempted to cover up with incense, scented candles, and air freshener with varying levels of success. The smell wasn’t eradicated, just made more manageable, depending on the fragrance.

As Sam and Mrs. Rogers passed the living room to bring the food to the kitchen, they could see Steve passed out on the couch, a throw draped carelessly across him. When Sam asked why he slept on the sofa rather than in his bedroom, Steve explained that his mother wanted him to be closest to the front door in case the place ever caught fire. It was a real possibility in this powder keg the two of them called home. Then again, that was the case for a lot of people in New York, not just Harlem. It was this, the streets, or a shelter, and that wasn’t much better than this. Sometimes it wasn’t even in a tenant’s hands whether or not they had a home. Sam remembered his mother’s face as she recounted how the apartment where she lived with her parents in the South Bronx when she was younger was burned down by the landlord to collect insurance money. Sarah and Steve weren’t in danger of that, but they were in danger living here.

Sam walked back to the living room when Mrs. Rogers waved him off with a thank you. When he walked back, Steve wasn’t there. Sam turned and then shrugged when he didn’t see him, sitting on the sofa and staring at the window since they didn’t own a television. He waited patiently for Steve to return before turning at the sound of water running through the rusty pipes. Whenever someone used the toilet, shower, or sink, it made a loud noise fill the whole house. The pipes were going to burst at some point. It was only one of the many ways this house might finally be done in.

Steve stumbled back into the room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before pausing upon seeing Sam.

“Wh…?”

“Descriptive. Tell me more,” Sam joked.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked, dropping onto the couch beside him.

It creaked in protest. It was going to break soon.

“I wanted to ask you something.”

Steve looked at him expectantly. Sam glanced towards the kitchen. Sarah already knew about he and Steve. She hadn’t ever talked directly to either about it, but she had caught them kissing once and went on about things like it was nothing. It slightly flummoxed Sam. The woman was staunchly Catholic. Above her mildew-stained sink was a picture of the Virgin Mary holding baby Jesus, John F. Kennedy, and Steve’s deceased father along with three rosaries. Despite that, she didn’t care that her son liked boys. Then again, considering her nightly profession, it might be throwing stones from a glass house, but that never stopped anyone before. Still, Sam wished his parents shared Sarah’s tolerance alongside her devoutness.

“Sam? You wanted to ask me something?”

Sam shook himself out of his daze and looked over to Steve, who was still blinking himself awake.

“Yeah. I wanted to ask you if, I mean I wanted to see if you’d maybe be interested in going to Greenwich Village with me tomorrow. Misty says there’s a roller-skating rink over there and there’s bowling. There’s a movie theatre too and some off-off-Broadway plays. I can’t afford that part, but the skating and bowling seem doable. I thought it might be nice to get out.”

“You mean like a date?”

“Um, yeah, like a date.”

“I mean, we don’t have to. We don’t have to go anywhere or do anything. We could just stay here and—”

“I wanna go. I’d love to go out with you.”

A throat cleared in the kitchen then.

“If my Ma says it’s okay,” Steve tacked on.

“Are you planning to bring home a baby or a disease?” Sarah asked, popping her head out from the kitchen.

“Pretty sure the first is biologically impossible and not if I can help it.”

“Fine. Have fun,” Sarah said, retreating.

“Good. You can pick me up.”

“Good. Yeah, good. So, we can go around 6 or 7,” Sam suggested.

“Cool.”

“Alright, cool.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.”

“I hear you two repeat each other one more time, I’m throwing carrot juice on you. Expand your vocabulary a little. Jeez, what are you all learning over at that school?” Sarah complained.

“How to cook meth.”

“How to start a successful cult in 30 days.”

“30 days?” Sam questioned.

Steve put on a mock thoughtful expression.

“60.”

“You’re both very clever,” Sarah replied in a deadpan voice.

“You kind of walked into that, Ma,” Steve called back before looking at Sam with a bright smile.

Sam returned the smile before pressing a kiss to Steve’s cheek and walking out the door. He clutched his chest at the door, feeling both anxiety and hope, but resolved to take Misty’s advice as try to make the most out of tomorrow.

~*~*~

The next day, they took the train to the Village and then walked from the station to the roller rink. Sam felt slightly awkward walking down the street beside Steve. There was a small space between them to throw anyone off the scent of a possible relationship, but as they walked, Sam noticed the couples walking in the opposite direction. Most of them were two men or two women, and they didn’t seem to have any shame as they walked hand in hand. Most of them were adults. Sam had yet to see a teenager, but he suspected they were at the rink or the bowling alley. He felt rather than saw Steve as he inched closer to him. Sam hesitated, but ultimately, he slid his fingers smoothly through Steve’s. He didn’t look over at his facial expression, but he felt him squeeze his fingers lightly.

They made it to the roller rink and bowling alley, which resided in one building together. They chose to go skating first. Steve hadn’t done it before and was as graceful as Bambi on ice. Sam couldn’t contain his laughter as Steve fell twice and then resolved to clutch the banisters and not move.

“Oh, come on, don’t be a baby,” Sam teased.

“That’s easy for you to say, Mr. Perfect.”

“While I don’t challenge that name, you can’t just stand here. It’s a waste of money.”

“I don’t wanna fall again.”

“You won’t.” 

Steve gave him a doubtful look.

“I’ll catch you,” Sam assured him. 

Steve held on for a moment more before taking Sam’s hand. Steve very nearly fell just from that but Sam was quick to get his arms around him.

“Jeez, what do you eat? You weigh a ton,” Sam teased, helping him upright again.

“Fuck you, Wilson.”

“I’m not that kind of gal, Rogers,” Sam quipped back. 

Steve rose a suggestive eyebrow at that.

“Let’s focus on you not breaking your ass, yeah?” Sam said before Steve could say whatever embarrassing thing he was thinking.

“Fine.”

“Hopefully, you take to this better than basketball,” Sam remarked, ignoring Steve’s scoff.

“Stop trying to walk in the skates, that’s your biggest issue. Slide forward, one foot and then the other,” Sam instructed, one arm around Steve’s waist to hold him steady. 

Steve stumbled a little but eventually began sliding his feet rather than trying to walk. He wasn’t smooth with it, but he wasn’t falling either. They went around the rink five times before Steve felt confident enough to allow Sam to let him go. Sam watched with a smile as Steve got the hang of it. Sam decided he could stop holding back then. He turned in his skates before Steve and started doing tricks. Steve gave him a look then.

“Show-off.”

“Not my fault I got skills.”

“Alright now, time for all the couples to take to the rink for Sal Smiley’s Serenade.” 

The music, which at that point was veered towards songs with dance-pop and disco undertones, now turned to a slow R&B number.

Sam watched a bunch of other couples skate out to the rink. They were all as diverse as they came. They were mostly of the younger demographic, teens and young adults. His eyes took in two Asian girls dancing together staring into each other’s eyes. There was a pair of black boys gliding across the floor. An Indian guy and a black girl swayed along beside them while a blonde girl and redhaired girl laughed more than they danced. Sam’s chest felt light. Whatever worries he’d usually be dwelling on were nowhere to be found. He turned around to Steve with a wide smile.

“No,” Steve replied.

“Come on.”

“I can’t dance, I can barely skate.”

“Please?” 

Steve stared at him before kissing his teeth.

“Fine.” 

Sam and Steve skated out to the rink. Sam put an arm around Steve’s waist, more so to hold him steady than because he wanted to lead. Sam let himself get lost like this. Steve was closer than would usually be deemed appropriate for this dance, their bodies pressed against each other’s. Steve’s hand was heavy on his shoulder and his breath brushed against his ear as the lyrics of the song washed over them along with the soft lighting which replaced the strobe lights.

With you baby, it never rains and it’s no wonder 

The sun always shines when I’m near you 

It’s just a blessing that I have found somebody like you 

And every time I close my eyes 

I thank the lord that I’ve got you yeah 

And you’ve got me too (You’ve got me too) 

And every time I think of it, I pinch myself ’cause 

I don’t believe it’s true yes 

That someone like you loves me too 

“We could never do this at school,” Steve informed him suddenly. 

Sam pulled back a little as his head had fallen against Steve’s collarbone.

“Hmm?”

“At school. It’s not like we could go to any of the dances or prom together. We can’t go to any of your aftergame parties or anything. We can’t do this back home,” Steve said, looking at him like it had only just occurred to him.

“Well, yeah. We knew that, but we get to do this here. We get to go out together. That’s something, right?” 

Steve stared at him for a moment before smiling.

“Yeah. This is fun. Thanks for asking me. I got to be honest, I never thought you would.” 

Sam shrugged at that.

“Guess I’m full of more surprises than you think,” Sam replied as the song changed to “Last Dance” by Donna Summer.

“We should go out again soon. You should ask me next time,” Sam continued, pulling Steve closer as they kept sliding across the floor.

“Yeah, we should do that. That is if you don’t mind going to Brooklyn.”

“Mmm, I think I’ll forego the gunshots and pickpockets, but thanks for the offer anyway.”

He laughed as Steve scoffed in response.

“Excuse you, don’t diss Brooklyn.”

“Only if you don’t say the word ‘diss’ again.”

“What? You don’t think I sound cool?”

“Not in the slightest.” 

Steve tried to tickle Sam, but he nearly fell, causing Sam to have to catch him. Sam laughed as Steve pouted and let himself be righted.

“Yup, not cool at all.”

They danced and skated for about fifteen minutes more before they switched over to the bowling section. Steve was better at it than Sam. He had a thing with angles. They left at around 8 and went down to the subway. Sam found himself on Steve’s back as they walked down the platform.

“You know, I might need to keep you around Rogers. You’re good as a pack mule if nothing else.”

“Oh really? That’s all I’m good for?”

“You’re not bad to look at either. You’re gonna make a great trophy husband one day,” Sam declared teasingly. 

Usually, he didn’t indulge in any fantasies of the future save for the negative, but Misty had been right. He needed to get away from Harlem to really let himself feel happy and comfortable with Steve.

Steve turned his head and pressed a light kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam rested his head against Steve’s back and drifted below the surface of consciousness, enjoying the quiet in his mind.

~*~*~

They made it a habit after that. Their schedule was fairly consistent day-to-day. They saw each other at school every weekday. It was a practice in restraint not to touch one another, stare at each other for too long, or draw any undue attention to themselves. Sam kept his wits about him for the most part, and Misty was usually around to cut any tension that might become visible between the two boys. On Mondays and Wednesdays, Steve would sit in the gym during basketball practice along with Claire, Luke, and Candace before they all hung out together. They had formed a sort of group between them, and outings at Rucker Park weren’t uncommon. Sam would tutor Steve on Tuesdays and Fridays. In those cases they would go to the school’s library or to Sam’s place, which was almost always preoccupied with some swarm of activity, so they never got to be free with each other until Saturdays came around. They would go out nearly every weekend, mostly leaving Harlem and traveling to the Village or Brooklyn or Times Square.

Away from the place they called home, they could hold hands and kiss without fear of someone they knew seeing them. It was never without fear altogether. The wrong person could decide to punish them for merely existing, but Sam could let those worries slip away when he wasn’t surrounded by the neighborhood he’d grown up in and the scornful words of his family ringing in his ears.

Away from home, they could be them.

“What’s up?” Steve asked from his place beside him.

They sat on the sand at Coney Island Beach. They weren’t supposed to be here. Astroland Park was closed, the inactive theme park attractions towering over them with the moonlight the only source of light they had. They sat in a spot under the boardwalk to avoid detection. The sand wasn’t soft by any means, but there was less glass and broken seashells in this area, and Sam had only come across two needles. He had been mindlessly gazing at the water and the way the moon reflected on it.

“Hmm?” He asked the blonde.

“You seem lost.”

“Nah, just… watching. I always loved the water. My grandparents have a house down in New Orleans. My grandfather has a fishing boat, and he would sometimes take me out on it when I visited them. My family doesn’t go down there to visit as often anymore. Money’s too tight to make the trip. I was just thinking of how blue the water down there is. Looks like shit here. It’s all… cloudy and messed up. It reflects the city well enough, reflects the people. Everyone’s mind here is messed up in some way or other. People make their mind cloudy so they can forget they’re messed up, and it doesn’t do a damn thing to help. It just… makes everything shit. I don’t know,” Sam said, not looking over at Steve partly for fear of his reaction.

“No, I get that. At the same time, the breeze round this end is better than off the Hudson by the Bridge.”

“The breeze passing a manure truck would smell better than the breeze off the Hudson.” 

Steve chuckled lightly at that.

“That’s probably true.” 

The two sat in quiet contemplation before Steve began speaking again.

“Sometimes I…” Steve trailed off, but Sam gave him an encouraging look.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna end up as one of those people.” 

Sam gave him a confused look.

“The people whose minds are cloudy and messed up from one thing or another.”

“Steve—”

“Hell, it doesn’t even have to be drugs that could do me in. My Ma bought this new paint for the walls, like that’s gonna change the fact that there’s probably a thousand generations of termites in the foundation and mold is multiplying right in front of us. Maybe the asbestos will suffocate me in my sleep.” 

Steve gave a bitter chuckle, shaking his head.

“My father died in the streets. He was in the mob and got shot before I was born. Nursing jobs aren’t paying what they used to, and hospitals barely have enough positions as is, so Ma was always getting fired, getting pushed further away until we ended up in Harlem. And I’m thinking Sam, I’m thinking real long and hard about everything. About who I am and what I’m gonna do with my future, with my life. I don’t want my mother to be one of Mama Mabel’s callgirls until she dies from syphilis or something. Graduation is coming up. What am I going to do? I don’t want to go from a house falling apart around us to being a starving artist living on a street corner in Alphabet City.”

“Steve, you have talent. Honest to God talent. You don’t throw that away.”

“I’m a poor, slow learning son of a dead mobster, whose mother is a prostitute, who just so happens to draw a little. Then there’s the fact that I like guys. I’m not going to be anything. That’s who I am and nothing more.”

“This doesn’t sound like you,” Sam replied.

“Mama Mabel has a place for me to—”

“No.”

“I won’t be selling dope or anything, just fighting. I can do that.”

“No, Steve. That’s not you.”

“I have to be realistic about things.”

“You barely even fight at school anymore.”

“I didn’t want to be on Diamondback’s radar anymore because of us, but I’m always going to be connected to Mama Mabel as long as my mother works for her.” 

Sam sighed at that and shook his head.

“You’re disappointed in me.”

“I’m… I’m surprised. I feel like this is coming out of nowhere. I thought this stuff with you fighting for them was over with,” Sam replied.

“Things feel like they keep getting tighter around the house. We’re barely holding on. Ma’s trying to hide it, but I can see it in her face every time she comes home. She’s my mother, I have to do something.”

“Steve… you’ve got this gift. Your art is special. I know it feels like there’s no way but this way now, but if you get involved, where do you draw the line? If you do this, then you aren’t you anymore. You don’t belong to yourself, you belong to Mama Mabel. That’s a hard rock to get out from under.”

“I don’t mind not belonging to myself as long as I can belong to you.” 

Sam scoffed at that.

“You’re corny as hell.”

“Didn’t do it for you?”

“I didn’t say that.” 

Steve smiled cheekily at him, causing Sam to smile in answer.

“Look, I can’t force you to do anything. I just want you to be safe and happy. To do that, you need your art. For that, you need your hands.” 

Sam pushed his own hands out of the sand and pulled Steve’s hands into his lap before bending down to press a kiss to each of them.

He’d noticed this about himself. All the pent-up affection he had for Steve came out full force once they left Harlem. Steve’s hands turned in his and tugged at Sam, pulling him closer so he could press their lips together.

Sam reciprocated the kiss, sighing into it as he did whenever they got the chance to do this, which was rare given how precious little their personal time was. Steve dragged Sam closer to him before pushing him down lightly and settling between his legs. Sam could hear nothing but the waves crashing on the shore in the close distance and their heartbeats as the kiss grew more and more passionate.

He tightly wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, pulling him closer while lightly grinding his hips against the blonde’s. Maybe it was the full moon visible to the two from the hazardous holes in the boardwalk, but Sam felt a fire burning in him.

“Are you sure?” Steve asked as he pulled away. 

They hadn’t done anything like this since the accident at Steve’s place, but Sam wanted him.

“I’m sure.” 

Steve nodded in response and then stared into Sam’s eyes as he deftly undid Sam’s belt and then unzipped and unbuttoned his jeans.

Sam gasped as Steve reached a hand into his pants and brushed against his hardening cock before he reached into his boxers and wrapped a hand, slightly grainy with sand, around him. Sam’s breath hitched as Steve’s grip tightened and he stroked him lightly, his thumb running over the head of his cock.

Sam whimpered, ignoring the discomfort of the residual sand on Steve’s hand and the dryness of skin against skin. He pulled Steve into a kiss, biting his lip lightly as he thrust up into Steve’s dry grip but not getting the satisfaction he wanted. Steve seemed to sense this. He removed his hand from Sam’s pants before lightly tugging the fabric down enough to free his erect member. Sam’s eyes widened as Steve lowered his head, his breath brushing hot against his sensitive dick, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Is this okay?” 

Sam nodded somewhat dumbly in response. Then Steve’s lips were on him and he didn’t think about anything but the two of them here. It didn’t last much longer after that. Sam was not used to these sensations. Steve worked him in what Sam could only assume was an expert way, he wasn’t any sort of judge on the matter, but it definitely felt good. Good enough that he felt compelled to return the favor.

“You don’t have to,” Steve told him after Sam came down from his orgasm and then immediately reached for Steve’s pants.

“I want to. I want to try.” 

Steve stayed still as Sam bobbed his head experimentally up and down his shaft, switching his pace at his leisure. Sam admired his restraint. He wasn’t able to stop his hips from thrusting ever so often and seeking the heat of Steve’s mouth. He was gentle with Sam, kissing him sweetly after like their mouths hadn’t just been where they were.

They got up after that, Steve pulling Sam along behind him as they climbed from under the boardwalk hand in hand. They made it to the central part of the beach when Steve stopped abruptly.

“What is it?” Sam asked, raising his head from where he’d been critically eyeing the sand so he didn’t step on anything sharp. 

Steve was staring ahead like he’d seen a ghost. Sam looked up and froze as well.

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Willis said, staring at the pair of them with a girl Sam didn’t recognize on his arm. 

Sam watched Willis’ gaze flicker down at his and Steve’s conjoined hands before he stared at them with a look of renewed curiosity.

“This is an interesting and prosperous development. Come on, Alicia,” he commented before pulling the girl along as he walked away. 

Sam and Steve shared a shell-shocked look between the two of them.

What the hell were they going to do?

~*~*~

“Like saw you? Full-on saw you?” Misty questioned as she sat on her bed doing homework and Sam paced her bedroom.

“How much clearer can I make it? He saw us holding hands.”

“Maybe you guys can come up with something, a lie if he says anything to anyone.”

“It doesn’t matter what we say. It’s Willis, everyone’s afraid of Diamondback. If he says it’s true, it happened. We’re fucked, both of us. He’s going to tell the school, and then my family is going to hear about it, and then we’re fucked. Well, not Steve. His mother doesn’t give a shit, so it’s just me who’s going to be fucked.”

“Stop cursing so much before my dad hears you,” Misty chastised.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m going down for one thing or another,” Sam replied, dropping onto the bed beside her.

“Or you could stop being so dramatic and use the brain I know is taking up space in your skull. Willis hasn’t said anything yet. Let’s be honest, he’ll try to blackmail you guys with this information first. Don’t let him. Deny everything to his face, Steve was helping you get through the sand. That’s why you were holding hands. As for that girl he was with, we gotta find out who she is. Get her to keep her pie hole shut.”

“He called her Alicia.”

“There are three at school.”

“She was a white girl, blonde hair.”

“I know her. She’s one of the girls Mama Mabel’s grooming. No one’s supposed to mess with them, I tell her I’ll tell Big Mama about her and Diamondback, and she’ll shut up. I guarantee she’s more afraid of Mabel than Willis. Just don’t do anything drastic, lay low, act normal.” 

Sam looked up at Misty with a look of admiration.

“You’re awesome, you know that?”

“Pretty well.”

“You could be a damn good lawyer if basketball falls through.”

Sam endeavored to follow Misty’s advice after that, but if he were honest, he had a bit of a freakout, an all-systems-down kind of freakout. He didn’t know what to do with himself since Misty was taking care of a lot of things, so he laid low as best as he could. He kept to himself in school, not talking to anyone for a while. His mind was racing more than anything else. Willis hadn’t said anything to him, just smiled at him as he passed him in the hall. Alicia didn’t speak to him either, stealing glances but otherwise keeping to herself. Steve would look at him, but Sam didn’t talk to him, hadn’t even tutored him the past few days. Finally, on Thursday as he was walking in the hall, he felt a hand snatch him into a maintenance closet. His chest pounded in fright until he looked and saw it was Steve.

“What the hell, man? You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sorry, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“You couldn’t find an easier way to get my attention?”

“Not lately, no. You’ve been avoiding me.” 

Sam paused.

“I haven’t been avoiding you. I’m just being… cautious.” 

Steve gave him a disbelieving look.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” Steve said, shrugging.

“What do you mean ‘nothing’? You said you wanted to talk.”

“Talk, not fight.” 

Sam sighed heavily before looking at Steve.

“Fine. What do you want to…” Sam trailed off with a humorless laugh. There was only one thing to talk about.

“Has Diamondback spoken to you?” Steve asked. 

Sam shook his head.

“You?”

“Yeah. He’s pretty obvious about what he wants. Mama Mabel wants me to fight for her even though he thinks I’m basically worthless. I don’t know what she said to him, but he’s trying to make me. He’s threatening to tell everyone about us if I don’t.”

“I don’t want you to do that. We need a plan to get him to keep his mouth shut and keep you out of the ring,” Sam resolved.

“What if we don’t?”

“What if we don’t what?”

“Do anything. We could just let the chips fall and whatever happens, happens.” 

Sam gave Steve an incredulous look.

“What do you mean, ‘let the chips fall’? Are you crazy? I can’t just let whatever happens, happen. I…” Sam scoffed in disbelief before continuing.

“I know it’s a lot easier for you because you have the perfect mom who accepts you, and you’ll have your perfect life with no troubles whatsoever no matter what happens between you and me.”

“My perfect life? Are you serious? What about my life strikes you as perfect, Sam? The fact that my mother, who is a devout Catholic, turned to prostitution because we were broke and so she doesn’t feel like she can say anything to me about my choices?”

“At least you know for sure when shit hits the fan, you’re not going to be out on your ass or seen as any less for it. There won’t be any real consequences for you because you wanted this anyway, right? You wanted to fight for Mama Mabel and this is the perfect excuse. You can just tell yourself that you’re doing it for my benefit, but that’s not true.”

“This has nothing to do with that!”

“How does it not?”

“This is about us. We have a decision to make. Diamondback can and will hold this over our heads and blackmail us into whatever he wants, but if we show that we’re not afraid of him and he chooses to tell people, then we can take control of the story. We can deny it or twist it to our advantage.”

“That doesn’t sound like us making a decision, that sounds like you making a decision and deciding it’s the best thing for us.”

“Maybe because you’re too afraid to make any decision. You just throw it on Misty or me and you hide behind your excuses instead of just confronting one simple fact.”

“And what’s that?” Sam asked sarcastically.

“The fact you’re gay. You like guys. This isn’t just some one-off. This isn’t a mistake. You know the truth about yourself, but you’re just too much of a coward to face it and do something about it.” 

Steve’s words resounded in the empty closet, reverberating with perfect clarity in Sam’s head. He scoffed before nodding lightly and turning towards the door.

“Where are you going?” Steve asked, making to pull him back.

“I’m doing something about it: I’m leaving,” Sam replied before continuing on his way out of the closet and down the hall.

~*~*~

He went back to not talking to Steve after that. He avoided him just as much as he avoided Willis. He would still see him around school and on the street, but he wouldn’t interact with him, wouldn’t meet his gaze, wouldn’t acknowledge him. Misty noticed and gave him her stamp of disapproval, but he did not relent.

It didn’t seem like Willis wanted to let go of his leverage over them for whatever reason, having said nothing to Sam, though he’d seen him with Steve on occasion. Sam decided to ignore and deny it if someone asked about him and Steve. Whatever Steve was doing, he didn’t know.

He walked down the block after school towards his house. It still felt strange to be walking alone when he usually would be walking with Steve. He glanced at Steve’s house as he passed. Steve was sitting on the steps, just below the bad one, watching him. There was something in his face as he looked at Sam, like he was trying to convey something to him just through his expression. Sam couldn’t guess what it was. He figured Steve wanted to talk more about the situation with Willis, which Sam did not, so he looked away towards his place. He immediately froze at the sight before him.

Diamondback was there with his father. The two seemed to be tinkering with the church van. Sam glanced at Steve before steadily approaching the pair.

“Hey Sammy, there you are. Was wondering when you were going to be getting back,” his father said upon seeing him. He didn’t appear any different from any other day. 

Sam looked at Willis who grinned at him like the Cheshire cat.

“I was just helping your old man here with his van. Engine was stalling. We don’t have too many men like your pops ‘round here anymore. Wouldn’t do not to help him when I can,” he explained, playing the part of concerned bystander well enough, but Sam saw the malice underneath.

“Thanks, but I can take over from here.” 

The two shared a glare behind Sam’s father’s back, Sam putting every bit of anger and hatred he could into it, not backing down when Diamondback put forth three times as much as he did. Eventually, the larger boy relented with a low chuckle.

“Sure ‘nough. You call me any time you need me, Pastor Wilson. We can talk about… things,” he said, glancing over at Steve who was being not-so-subtle as he watched them. 

Sam’s father followed his gaze before frowning at Sam as Diamondback jogged away, his part done for now.

“What’s that all about?” Paul asked. 

Sam shrugged in response.

“I don’t listen to half of what Di— Willis says. He’s crazy, Dad. Almost as crazy as his mother.” Sam replied, peeking into the engine.

“Hey, stop that. Dana is sick.”

“Ms. Dana is an addict and her son is crazy,” Sam corrected.

“I don’t want to hear no more of that. Besides which, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to distract me from the matter at hand. Willis mentioned some concerns he has for you.”

“Did he now?” Sam questioned nonchalantly, but inside he was freaking out.

“He thinks that white boy over there is a bad influence on you. I hear he fights a lot and his mother says she’s a God-fearing woman, but her employment leaves much to be desired.”

“Steve fights to protect other people and Ms. Sarah is a nurse.”

“And something else too. I don’t know if I want you to spend any more time with him.”

“Really, Dad? Because of something Willis said? Like he’s got a halo on his head.”

“I didn’t say he did, but it doesn’t mean he’s lying. Your mother says you spend an awful lot of time with that boy, I don’t want him leading you astray.”

“You don’t even know him. He’s a good guy. He’s my friend. Yeah, his family isn’t in a good place financially, but who is around here? He doesn’t have people like Grams and Grandad to help him out. He doesn’t have siblings or a father to help support him and his mom. He’s alone. He’s no different than any of the people down at the shelter you help, or Ms. Dana who you call sick instead of a criminal. He’s not a bad influence on me,” Sam replied before he could stop himself. 

He felt the need to defend Steve even if they weren’t in a good place. Paul stopped up short before looking down with a slight smile.

“From the mouth of babes. You’re right, son. I don’t know him and here I am judging the poor boy while he’s sitting just feet away from me.” 

Sam nodded and almost relaxed, but then his father turned to Steve and called out to him.

“Dad, what are you doing?” Sam asked, panicked.

“Relax, I’m not going to hurt the boy.” 

Sam turned back and looked at Steve who stared at them wide-eyed before walking over.

“Hi Pastor Wilson. Sam,” Steve greeted, uncharacteristically shy.

Paul just laughed in response.

“Don’t worry, son. I ain’t gonna shoot you or nothing.” 

Steve looked up at him with surprise. He glanced at Sam, but he couldn’t really offer any answers in front of his father.

“Are you busy tonight? I’d like to invite you to dinner.”

“Dad, Steve doesn’t want to come to dinner.”

“Steve’s got a mouth, he can tell me that himself.” 

Sam gave Steve a pleading look. The blonde remained quiet for a moment before nodding.

“Sure, I don’t have anything to do and my mom isn’t home.” 

Sam glared daggers at the other boy.

“Good, swing by in an hour or so and you can join us.” 

Steve nodded and took that as his cue to leave. Sam turned back to his father.

“What? I don’t know him, but if you’re going to be friends, then I want to.”

Sam spent the hour before Steve was supposed to arrive going over his insubstantial homework and pacing. He didn’t know what the hell to expect, if anything. He felt like there were a hundred ways this could go wrong: Steve could say something, Diamondback could come back just for the hell of it, one of his family members might figure it out. Maybe they’ll see something in Sam’s face, the same thing Misty saw that he wasn’t aware of enough to hide.

“You’re going to make a dent.” 

Sam whipped around and saw Steve standing by his door.

“Your mom let me in, she told me I could head to your room since dinner isn’t ready yet.” 

Sam stared at him silently.

“Are you going to make me stand in the hallway?” Steve asked after a moment. 

Sam let out a sigh before nodding Steve into the room. He sat down on the bed, watching the taller boy out of the corner of his eye as he closed the door and then lingered in the corner. Sam looked straight ahead as the clock ticked on the wall.

“Are we really going to stand here and not speak to each other?” 

Sam shrugged in response.

“What is there to talk about?”

“What did Diamondback tell your father?”

“Nothing… yet. I guess he’s saving it to blackmail us, or maybe he’ll just tell him when I least expect it, who knows? But he did mention you to him, told him you’re a bad influence on me. I defended you, that’s why my dad invited you to dinner,” Sam explained before laughing humorlessly.

“Hell, maybe Diamondback is right. Maybe you are a bad influence on me. I never looked at another guy twice before you. I should be worrying about the basketball season or my world history exam next week or senior dues or college applications or the mortgage? I should be worrying about a million other things, but instead I’m worrying about you and me and whether my father is going to find out about… whatever we were. A moment of insanity? A lapse in judgment?”

“How about the truth?” Steve said, cutting through Sam’s lament.

“The truth about yourself that you didn’t even know existed until it was right in front of your face: the person you really are.” 

Sam looked over at Steve wordlessly.

“It’s scary, isn’t it? Trying to reconcile what you’ve thought of as wrong with everything you’ve told yourself about you. I bet before this, you thought you understood everything about yourself. I bet you were wrong about half of it. Eventually, you’re going to live on your own, your parents won’t always be there. You’re going to have to figure out who you are and who you want to be. No one can make that decision for you.”

“You’re acting like you believe otherwise.” 

Steve shook his head in response.

“I… I lo—”

“Don’t say it,” Sam said immediately. 

Steve wilted ever so slightly under Sam’s intense gaze causing the other boy to soften slightly.

“Please, just don’t.” 

Steve stared at him for a moment before nodding.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize for that.”

“Not that. Our argument about Diamondback. I know what I want. I just wish I knew what you wanted.” 

Sam shook his head with a shrug.

“I don’t know.” 

Steve nodded like he expected as much.

“Can I?” He said, gesturing to the spot on the bed beside Sam. 

He sat down once Sam nodded, his thigh pressed against his.

“I had a boyfriend in Brooklyn. My first. We went to church together. His mother was just as devout as mine except less accepting. His brother found us. Didn’t give much of a rat’s ass about religion, he just, in his words, ‘wasn’t about to have his baby brother bend over for any man’. I wound up in the hospital and that’s how my mom found out. She… she guessed as much, but things had already been so tight by then, medical bills didn’t help. That’s how we lost the house, my medical bills because I got beat up for liking guys. I understand the consequences of this, Sam. I’m not an idiot or half as naïve as you think I am. I just… I don’t want to run or hide who I am, and I don’t want to lose you.” 

Sam looked over at Steve and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He shook his head at his ineptitude before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Steve’s lips.

Steve slipped a hand behind his neck, pulling him closer as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. Sam’s lips felt tingly and alive against Steve’s. It had been some time since they did this. This tango was familiar, safe in that it barred any words being exchanged between them, heated or heavy or otherwise. Sam let his mind wander to that night on the beach before Diamondback and Alicia showed up. It had been perfect, beyond any pleasure he had previously felt. He wished the night ended there, he wished they could go back. The moon reflecting on the water. The dirty sand beneath their fingertips getting everywhere and being a general annoyance. The darkness looming over them as the precarious shapes of the theme park towered above their location. The quiet and stillness that came from being away from home, but with someone you felt safe and comfortable with despite the dangers.

Steve’s hand ran up his thigh to his stomach, slipping under his shirt slightly. Sam wanted Steve to push him back against the mattress, he wanted to feel his body pressed against his, he wanted to recreate the pleasure of that night, but they couldn’t do that, not here. He kissed him one last time before pulling away from him. He opened his eyes. The person standing behind Steve in the doorway immediately caught Sam’s attention.

“Dad.” 

Steve swiftly pulled away and turned around as Sam’s face turned up in shock. His father looked pale and almost like he wasn’t breathing.

“Paul, I said leave those kids alone,” Darlene said playfully, approaching her husband with a smile which quickly dropped once she took in his countenance.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” 

Paul didn’t answer her, so she looked into the room at the two teens who looked just as shook up as Paul did.

“Sam? What’s going on here?” 

Paul shook his head and turned to leave. Sam jumped up before he even knew it and tried to take his father’s hand, pulling him back.

“Dad, wait.” 

Paul pulled his hand away roughly.

“Don’t touch me. I… I can’t even believe… something like this, in my home… I can’t…” 

Paul shook his head before storming away once more. Darlene watched her husband walk before looking at her son’s face. Sam looked like he was halfway to a breakdown and the boy sitting in his room didn’t look much better off. Darlene felt a chill go up her spine as the front door slammed closed, causing Sam to jump. She didn’t know what just happened, but she knew something in her home had been irrevocably changed.

26 Years Later

“So, like I said, not that riveting,” Steve concluded as he and Sam walked down the street.

They’d taken some ice cream to go from the restaurant and they’d been walking and catching up since then.

“I don’t know. I’ve enjoyed hearing about your misadventures in London. I happen to think watching you get arrested for skinny dipping in a public fountain sounds hilarious,” Sam retorted with a smirk, putting a spoonful of grape-nut ice cream in his mouth and letting it melt against his tongue.

Steve scoffed and shook his head.

“You’d get along well with Peggy and Natasha then. They found it so funny they didn’t bail me out until Gabe and Bucky talked them into it.”

Sam gave Steve a slightly curious look.

“Peggy’s my agent, Bucky’s a childhood friend, and Gabe and Natasha are their respective significant others. We all live together.”

“Living with two couples? That sounds like fun,” Sam replied, sarcasm clear in his tone.

“Yeah, just as much as it sounds.”

“Thankfully, I’ve managed to phase out of that stage. It was touch and go with my cousin. Thin walls and he had a parade of girls for a while. He figured I wouldn’t mind because I wasn’t interested anyway, but I got my own place as soon as I could.”

Steve laughed in response and looked over at him.

“Oh, you have…” he trailed off, gesturing towards Sam’s face.

Sam swiped at his mouth blindly. Steve waved him off. Sam stiffened ever so slightly but let Steve wipe his mouth clean. Sam glanced up at his eyes as Steve stared down at him.

“I missed you,” Sam blurted out, much to his embarrassment.

He’d been holding it in all night. With Steve standing that close, he couldn’t keep it in any longer. Steve looked stricken for a moment before responding.

“I missed you too.”

They stared at each other for a moment before Steve spoke once more.

“Hey, do you wanna come back to mine? Not to do anything, we can just talk, spend time together like we used to.”

Sam smiled a little, thinking of how they used to be.

“We did have some good times.”

Steve smiled a little in return.

“Yeah, we did.”

“Maybe the stars are right and we can feel that way again.”

“Maybe.”

Chapter Text

Steve was staying at Aloft Hotel, which was right by the train if Sam wanted to leave, not that he did. Steve put on a record once they’d settled inside and got them both a glass of wine.

“Since when are you a Marvin Gaye fan? Or a fan of anything other than your moody rock garbage?” Sam asked.

“Hey, my music sense is diverse and varied… and Gabe introduced it to me.”

“If that’s the case, you need to check out Troubleman. It’ll change your life.”

“Hmm,” Steve replied noncommittally.

“And… I guess your moody rock garbage isn’t all bad. At least not the stuff Riley listened to anyway, but I’m drawing the line at Nickelback. I just can’t do it.”

“Riley?” 

Sam paused. He hadn’t known he’d even said his name.

“My ex-boyfriend. I met him overseas. He’s married now to some girl his folks set him up with, haven’t heard from him since we were discharged.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. We were both in the closet, then I came out, he didn’t, and that was that.”

“I know what that’s like.” 

Sam looked down.

“Not you. That was… we were kids. After you, I met a guy named Brock in college. Super macho, kind of a bully and an asshole and totally not my type. Don’t even know what I was thinking. He was never gonna come out for me, but I hoped and hoped until I couldn’t anymore. On the bright side, my art got a boost from that, and I caught up with Bucky again. He called it my blue period. Lots of melodramatic, existential art. The kind rich people like to hang on their wall and wax philosophically about when picking up girls. That’s how I ended up in London. Peggy’s father took an interest in my work after I graduated. Then I worked so much, a relationship was just—”

“Not a priority.”

“Yeah.”

“I get it. Work and family have taken up so much of my time. I’ve dated but… it’s never really… I mean it hasn’t felt—”

“Right,” Steve finished.

“Yeah.” 

Sam looked over at Steve only to find he was already staring at him with an intense gaze. Sam only just noticed how close they’d been sitting to one another. He could feel the heat of Steve’s thigh through their pants, the brush of his arm against his, the flutter of his breath across his face. It all felt equivalent to an inferno.

“Steve.”

“Yes?”

“Um, I…”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve never… I keep… we weren’t together that long. We were young and stupid and wrapped up in things way bigger than us. At the time, it felt like we were never going to get past where we were. I didn’t think I would get out of Harlem being straight, let alone gay, so when I met you and realized, I didn’t… I couldn’t—”

“Sam, you already apologized.”

“I know I did. That’s not what this is, not really. I just need you to understand before we go any further. After my dad found us and made us move to New Orleans, I tried to go back. I tried to date girls, tell myself you were just a fluke. I was curious and confused, that’s it. That didn’t really work. My grandmother saw right through me, tried to help me accept myself, admit the truth. I eventually admitted it to my family, but I still didn’t accept myself. I enlisted partly to try to run away from it all. Then I met Riley. He was… I did love him, but it was safe with him because I knew he wasn’t going to come out and I didn’t want people to know me. I don’t know what changed, but I got tired of living in the shadows. I wanted to be out and not held back by anyone or anything. I know that’s what I did to you. I know you said we were kids. You forgive me, but I should’ve never done it. I’m sorry.” 

Steve silently listened to him, his face open and free of judgment.

“I’ve never stopped thinking about us. I haven’t… I haven’t managed to feel about anyone the way I felt about you. In hindsight, anyway. And I—”

“Sam, can you just shut up so I can kiss you?” Steve said, cutting him off. 

Sam chuckled a little in response before nodding.

Steve didn’t waste time leaning in and pressing his lips to Sam’s. It was like coming up for breath after swimming underwater for too long. Steve pulled away and pressed his forehead against his.

“God, I’ve wanted to do that again for 26 years.” 

Sam nodded before pulling him in for another kiss.

Sam wasn’t going to wax poetic about how it was just the same as before because if he said he remembered every intricate detail of their teenhood, he’d be lying. However, the way the blood in his veins seemed to heat up in real-time and his heart began slamming against his chest wasn’t easily forgotten.

Steve put his arm around his waist and pulled him closer before pulling him into his lap. Sam put his arms around Steve’s neck and tilted his head to deepen the kiss. A moan rumbled through Sam’s chest as he parted his lips to allow Steve’s tongue to meet his while simultaneously grinding his hips down. Steve reached up and slipped Sam’s leather jacket down his shoulders, throwing it somewhere in the room. Sam quickly pulled his t-shirt off. He shivered as Steve ran his fingers up his abs to his pecs. Sam breathed heavily as Steve kissed down his neck towards his nipples, sucking one bud softly.

“I…” Sam stared before trailing off breathlessly when Steve suddenly stood up and carried him towards the bed before laying him down and standing over him, removing his clothes.

“Sometimes I thought of looking for you, but I was too afraid. Didn’t think you’d want to see me,” Steve admitted as he undid the buttons of his shirt and threw it behind him.

“Then I told myself I didn’t want to see you anyway, told myself I didn’t have regrets,” he continued, pulling Sam down towards the edge of the bed before drawing his face close to his.

“That wasn’t true. I regretted not being able to tell you I love you back then. And I regretted never getting to know if it could’ve lasted, if it could’ve grown, matured into something beyond the shortsightedness of childhood.” 

Sam leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to Steve’s lips.

“I regretted not letting you tell me. I was afraid to hear it. I thought it’d make it too real. Like it wasn’t already,” Sam said, shaking his head.

“I was such an idiot.”

“You were,” Steve replied simply. 

Sam scoffed and smacked Steve on the arm in mock offense, causing him to laugh.

“It’s okay. We were both idiots,” the blonde admitted. 

Sam nodded lightly.

“I…” Sam trailed off and looked down at where Steve’s body hovered over his, not quite touching him. 

They were both shirtless, but they still had their pants on.

“I want…” 

Sam wasn’t sure how to articulate all he wanted to do, all he missed and regretted, and how his heart was ready to burst just from being this close to Steve, but his whole body thrummed with shameless need.

“I know,” Steve assured him before leaning down and kissing him again, he pulled away with another small kiss before moving towards the bathroom. 

Sam took that moment to unbutton his pants and slip them down his legs. He paused when he got to his boxer briefs, an unbidden wave of self-consciousness coming over him.

“Okay?” 

Sam glanced over at Steve as he stood in the bathroom doorway, a tube of lube and a condom in his hand. Sam felt his heart thud in his chest at Steve standing there. How many times had he thought of this? Fantasized and dreamed of seeing him again, being with him like this? Fear was not gonna stop him now. Sam pushed himself up and approached Steve, stopping just in front of him. He carefully pulled his boxer briefs off, freeing his erection and letting Steve see him. They’d never gotten to do this. Any sexual encounters were quick and mostly clothed, so Sam felt nervous. Steve walked closer to him, his eyes roving Sam up and down.

“Not bad for an old guy?” Sam said, his voice edging on questioning.

“You look fine, better than fine,” Steve replied, his voice breathy. 

Sam felt pride at that. His morning run had been leaving him more breathless lately, but at least he knew it wasn’t all for nothing.

“Well, I showed you mine, so show me yours.” 

Steve smirked in response before divesting himself of his remaining clothing.

“Oh, that’s not fair,” Sam groused upon seeing Steve’s toned body. 

Steve chuckled in response.

“You know, you’re an artist. It’s not the worst thing in the world to let yourself go, just a little.”

“If I did that, I wouldn’t get responses like this,” Steve said inching closer to him. 

Sam could feel the heat coming off him. His eyes were having a hard time not straying to Steve’s groin.

“I don’t know, I kind of like fluffier guys,” Sam joked in response as Steve caught him around the waist, pulling him close, their erections brushing against the other’s skin.

“Pity for you then, huh? You just gotta settle for me,” Steve said, walking them back towards the bed.

“Yeah, a pity,” Sam replied with a chuckle as his back hit the bed. 

Steve leaned down and kissed him deeply, pressing their bare bodies together. Their hands explored each other, relearning the other and discovering new things they never got to before.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Steve admitted as Sam kissed and sucked the skin on his neck while his hand brushed Steve’s erection teasingly. 

Sam hummed in agreement as his lips made their way to Steve’s collarbone. Steve pulled his face up and pressed their lips together once more. His kiss was light. Sam could almost taste the gentle sweetness in it.

Sam should be concerned. 26 years was a long time. People could change dramatically in a time frame like that. Sam didn’t really know Steve anymore, but none of that really mattered, not then. Maybe it was just nostalgia, and when this was over, reality would crash over them both. They might regret this, but not right now.

They kissed slow, tasting one another before Steve pulled away slightly, kissing Sam’s forehead. Sam watched him pop the top of the lube open. He coated his fingers in the lubricant before meeting Sam’s eyes as he lowered his finger to Sam’s entrance. Sam’s breath hitched as one of Steve’s fingers slipped into him. He was tight, almost uncomfortably so. He hadn’t done this in a while.

“Gentle,” Sam advised him breathlessly. 

Steve nodded before leaning his head against Sam and gently pushing a finger in and out of him, circling it lightly to help him adjust to the feeling.

“More?” Steve asked. 

Sam nodded in response after a moment. Steve pulled his finger out and got more lubricant on his fingers before adding two fingers to Sam’s opening. Sam shivered as Steve stroked his fingers over his hole before dipping his fingers in.

Sam moaned under his breath as Steve opened him up slowly and gently, stopping if Sam requested or going faster as they continued kissing and learning each other. When Sam was finally open enough and Steve had the condom on and was settled in between his legs, Sam was hit with another wave of uncertainty. Steve caught his gaze and paused.

“Sam?” 

He didn’t answer immediately.

“We don’t have to, you know. You’re not obligated to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“No, it’s not that. I just… this is real, right? This isn’t just some elaborate fever dream?”

“What? Do you dream often about me?” Steve asked playfully.

“A fair amount, yes,” Sam replied, his face serious.

“So, I need to know that this is real, so I don’t wake up feeling hurt all over again.” 

Sam watched Steve’s face soften at that.

“I can tell you as much, but I’d be better showing you,” Steve said. 

Apparently, 25 years had made him a lot less awkward and a lot more of a smooth talker because Sam could feel his skin heat up at that.

“Show me then.”

Steve leaned down to kiss him as he lined himself up with Sam’s opening. Sam was looser than before but still fairly tight, so Steve pushed in slowly and cautiously, allowing Sam time to adjust as well as feel as every inch of Steve pushed into him. Sam was practically trembling by the time Steve bottomed out, his name heavy on his lips. He looked up at the blonde above him. His face was flush and slightly red, his eyes were soulful and deep as they stared down at Sam, his lips were wet and slightly red from their kissing, but it was the look in his eye that got him. A look of pure pleasure and want and love that was subtle but present that made this whole thing real.

Sam moaned brokenly as Steve began moving inside of him. He circled his hips slightly before he began shallowly thrusting his hips towards Sam’s. Sam was tight and each movement was edged with faint pain, but he let himself be entirely open for Steve’s machinations. He clenched around Steve as he began thrusting faster into him, moans and whimpers ever-present on both of their lips.

“You’re so good, better than I ever imagined,” Steve groaned, his hips almost slamming into Sam’s. 

Sam opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a surprised groan as Steve hit his prostate. Sam wrapped his arms around Steve’s neck, holding him tighter as he rode the wave of pleasure Steve’s movements created.

After a while, the room was filled with nothing but sounds of their pleasure and flesh hitting flesh. Sam wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist and flipped them over, so he was on top, drawing a breathless gasp and then a chuckle from Steve. Sam smiled down at him as he settled himself into Steve’s lap before he began rising and falling over Steve’s dick, his heat enveloping him over and over again. He watched in fascination as Steve’s face contorted in pleasure when he swirled his hips before sinking down lower on him.

“God, you are… fuck,” Steve moaned out, desperately trying to thrust upwards. 

Sam grinned with pride as Steve practically trembled beneath him. He made to raise his knees so he could thrust better, but Sam smacked him lightly on the thigh.

“Uh-uh.”

“Sam,” Steve all but whined.

“Lemme do it myself. I’m not about to be accused of being lazy.”

“Well, you are an old man.” 

Sam scoffed in response.

“I’m only five months older than you.”

“Jeez, you’re ancient.” 

Sam quirked an eyebrow at that before slowing his hips to a near crawl.

“Oh, come on, you’re not that cruel.”

“A lot can change in 25 years,” Sam replied, his hips moving leisurely against Steve.

“Sam, okay, I’m sorry. Just… just fuck me, please,” Steve begged. 

Sam grinned at the sound.

“Since you asked so nice…” 

He sped up again, drawing moans from Steve and himself as he fucked himself on Steve’s dick. 

He could feel himself getting closer, it had been a while after all, and he knew he was going to come before Steve did.

“I’m close,” Sam muttered, his body thrumming with heat and ecstasy. 

Steve grabbed his waist and turned so Sam was under him again. He grabbed his leg under his knees, throwing one over his shoulder before thrusting roughly into Sam, nearly making him shout. Sam reached a hand to his leaking cock and stroked himself in time with Steve’s thrusts. It wasn’t long before Sam came, his body going tense and moans falling freely from his lips. Steve continued his thrusts until he too tensed up, signaling his release. He relaxed after a moment, coming down while still propped above Sam on his elbow. Sam grunted slightly as Steve pulled out of him, giving Sam a kiss before pushing away from the bed and moving towards the bathroom once more.

Sam lay in the bed as his heart gradually stopped racing and his blood cooled off. Steve returned with a damp cloth, his chest already wiped down before he did the same for Sam. Sam watched him walk off before returning again, settling into the bed beside him.

“Okay?” Steve asked.

“I haven’t decided to run away if that’s what you’re asking. Unless you want me to leave,” Sam trailed off uncertainly.

“I’d like you to stay,” Steve replied. 

Sam smiled before snuggling into Steve’s chest. They talked for a while, swapping stories about their lives during the past years. Steve was telling him about a disastrous showcase and Sam was trying to pay attention, but his mind began drifting to the future. He always did have a habit of getting ahead of himself.

“You’ve gone all quiet. What’s wrong?” Steve asked as they pressed up chest to chest to one another.

“I was just thinking about time and how much has passed. You have to go back to London soon, don’t you?” 

Steve nodded after a pause.

“Yeah. Four days. You have to go back to New Orleans soon, right?”

“Five days,” Sam replied before sighing as he dropped back on the bed.

“It doesn’t feel fair. I want to stay with you and figure this out, explore it if we can. See if we can finally build something good. No fear, no confusion, no one controlling us, just something good. But we won’t even be on the same continent in a week,” Sam lamented. 

Steve sat up and looked down at him.

“Hey, do you have Skype?” He asked suddenly.

“No,” Sam answered.

“Yeah, me neither. So, we’ll both make one and we can see and talk to each other every day, you in New Orleans and me in London. I have to stay there for another three months for my gallery openings, but I was thinking of coming back to the states anyway. You know who Tony Stark is?”

“I only have to stare at his name every day on that big, ugly building of his.”

“Well, I’ve been hired to fix that big, ugly building. He offered to put me on retainer as an architect before I even came here. He knows Peggy and she mentioned to him that I’ve done some architecture work. He wants someone with actual artistic skill beyond basic architecture. Granted, he wants me in California, but I can try to get transferred to New York.”

“I can transfer to a VA in either state and then...”

“And then we can be together, see where it goes. We can try.”

“Three months?”

“Three months. Not a day over three.”

“I guess I’ll have to get someone to explain the logistics of Skype sex to me.”