Archive of Our Own ^beta

They’re sitting around on set in between shots when it happens. Sam, sipping his fourth coffee of the day as he thumbs through a magazine that's in a language he doesn’t understand but the pictures are nice enough to look at, Jacob, tongue peeking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrates on the MarioKart tournament he and Delainey are playing on their Nintendo Switches with a bowl of blueberries balanced on his lap, and Assad, flipping through the episode’s latest script revisions.

Delainey’s Dry Bones has just knocked Jacob’s Yoshi off course with a well aimed turtle shell, crossing the finish line in first place and prompting Jacob to grunt in frustration and yell “Ugh, Delainey! Fuck off!”

He quickly adds “with love!” when he looks up to see that an entire set of cast and crew is staring at him, brows raised.

Everyone returns to work, appeased with the amendment, and Jacob sighs then wedges his game between his hip and the arm of his chair. “I hate your stupid cheating dead turtle.”

Delainey rolls her eyes and lays her console down on her lap. “And how exactly am I cheating, Jacob?”

“You can’t just use the same move at the end of each race!” He digs into the bowl of blueberries and pops a few in his mouth. “It’s cheating.”

“Is it? Or is it just strategy?”

Jacob turns his head to look over at Sam, who is still not-reading his magazine. “Et tu, Sam? You’re supposed to be on my side.”

Sam turns the page. “Oh, there’s sides in this? I was unaware.”

Jacob twists a bit in his chair to face Sam. “There are. So whose are you on?”

Sam sniffs and turns to the next page. “Yours, Jacob. Obviously.”

Jacob preens a bit, relaxing into his seat and turning his head to smirk at Delainey like she hadn’t just beat him three tournaments in a row.

“Unless Delainey is involved, then I’m on hers.”

Assad laughs and the smirk falls from Jacob’s face as he snaps his eyes back to Sam. “I hate you.”

Sam looks up from his magazine and grins, holding eye contact with Jacob for a few very long seconds. Their chairs are close. Way too close given the amount of space that they have and Jacob’s bent knee is nearly resting atop Sam’s.

It isn’t until Assad clears his throat that they snap out of it. Sam looks back down at his magazine and Jacob plucks another blueberry from the bowl. He’s just finished tossing it into the air, catching it in his mouth when Assad says it.

“This is why the internet thinks you’re fucking.”

Jacob chokes. Sam doesn’t even bother looking up from his magazine as he says, “Assad, there are people on the internet that think the Earth is flat.”

Jacob is wheezing and Delainey leans forward in her seat, trying to gauge whether or not intervention is necessary when Sam reaches over to thwack Jacob solidly on the back, dislodging the blueberry and sending it sailing back into the bowl in his lap.

Jacob lets out a hoarse cough, snatches Sam’s coffee from his hand and takes a massive gulp of it then hands it back, cringing at the strength of what is probably a quadruple shot. “No wonder you can’t fucking sleep at night”, he rasps.

There’s a bit of coffee smudged on the rim of the cup from Jacob’s lips and Assad waits to see what Sam does with that and is in no way surprised when Sam puts his lips right over the spot to take his next drink.

“So what you’re telling me is you’re not?”

Jacob wipes at his teary eyes and clears his throat, then sets the blueberries aside and stares at the bowl as if he might have to defend himself from another attempt on his life. “Do you believe everything you read on the internet?”

Assad blinks at him and Jacob stares back.

“So that’s a no?”

Jacob slouches in his chair, which makes his knee rest fully on top of Sam’s and grabs his Switch. He waves it at Delainey to let her know he’s going to start the next round and jabs at a button on the Joy-Con. “It’s a no.”

Sam licks a combination of his and Jacob’s spit from his lower lip and Assad nods.

He makes note of the way both of them glance at each other out of the corner of their eye in a way that they probably think is subtle but isn’t at all. “Right, of course. My mistake, then.”

_______________________

They are fucking.

Though if you ask Jacob, it’s more than fucking. So, so much more. The truth is that he’s so far gone over Sam that it’s borderline embarrassing. And if you ask Sam what they are, well, Jacob doesn’t know what Sam would say, and that’s part of the problem.

Jacob knows how he feels. He knows that being with Sam - spending all of his free time with Sam, sharing a bed with Sam, sharing his heart with Sam - has made him happier than he ever thought he could be, but he also has a history of falling too hard, too fast. Of smothering and maybe sharing too much of himself and his interests. Of being too open and putting way more effort into a relationship than he gets back. Of getting swept up in the moment and landing flat on his face when things fall apart.

He’s not blind - he knows that Sam is into him. That he’s attracted to him and finds Jacob’s chaotic energy endearing. But so did Jacob’s other partners, at first. Then the honeymoon phase fizzled out and they went from being enamored with Jacob and his quirks to finding him to be exhausting and Too Much.

He could always tell when things were starting to go sour. When the interest started to wane and spending time with him became more of a chore and less of a want. If they already had one foot out the door and Jacob picked a fight or two to speed the process along, what did it matter?

If he’s being honest with himself, he didn’t miss the relationships once they were over. He missed the companionship - no one wants to be lonely - but not the person or relationship itself.

He knew right from the start that he’d never feel that way about Sam, though. From the moment they met, their bond was instant. It was intense. But most importantly, it was reciprocal. They had so many similar interests down to the most incredibly niche things. And the few interests that they didn’t share, they both put in the effort to learn about them for each other’s sake and genuinely seemed to care about them because they made each other happy.

It was a friendship unlike anything Jacob had ever experienced before. And then Sam kissed him.

It happened during the Season 1 press tour. They were holed up in Sam’s hotel room on a random off night in New York, sat side by side on the sofa, pressed together from shoulder to knee as they binged episodes of Whose Line is it Anyway? Jacob had been mid laugh when he snuck a glance at Sam to find that Sam was already staring at him with more fondness than he’d seen from anyone in a very long time and the next thing he knew, Sam’s lips were on his.

It was a soft, but confident kiss and when Sam pulled back, Jacob was stunned, mouth open and eyes wide. Sam must have misunderstood what was going on in Jacob’s mind because then there was a subtle shift to his eyebrows and he looked as if an apology was on the tip of his tongue, so Jacob grabbed him by the face and kissed him before he could take it back. It was a slightly less confident kiss, but this time when they parted, Sam’s breath fanned against Jacob’s lips as he asked “yeah?” and Jacob nodded his head enthusiastically as he fell backward onto the couch, pulling Sam down on top of him. The rest of the night was a blur of kisses, giggles, and laughter and when Jacob woke up the next morning with a stiff back from falling asleep on the uncomfortable cushions, the sight of Sam asleep on top of him with his head pillowed on Jacob’s chest more than made up for it.

So sure, Sam is into him now. But how long will that last?

_____________________

Jacob is being different - odd. And not the way he normally is. Not in the way that Sam finds adorable to an embarrassing degree. Not in the way that makes Sam grin so hard that he’s afraid one day his face will split in two. Not the way that floods his heart with affection to the point of bursting.

He’s been distant on set, quiet. Rather than Jacob being within arms reach at any given moment when they’re not filming, Sam finds that he’s had to ask crew members if they’ve seen him because he has no idea where Jacob’s run off to. When they go home together, it isn’t as obvious. They still have dinner in the same restaurant every night and sleep in the same bed but things are off.

Sam doesn’t like to think about it too much because it makes a seed of doubt take root in his chest and grows until he can’t catch his breath with the vice around his lungs and his hands begin to tremble and there’s a cold sweat prickling the back of his neck because what if this is it? What if their time has run out? What if Jacob doesn’t want this, want him anymore? What if actually being with Sam doesn’t measure up to the idea of being with Sam?

As fucked as that is, it wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened to him. A pretty face will only get you so far, his management team had said. And when the roles weren't coming, they changed his accent, his mannerisms and tried to get him to rub elbows with people that he had no interest in socializing with at all. They tried forcing him into a box that he didn’t fit in to sell an image that wasn’t him and it wasn’t what he’d wanted, at all. He didn’t want to be molded into something that he wasn’t in order for him to be desired.

So, yes, sometimes he’s afraid that Jacob won’t want him anymore. It’s not a feeling that he’s ever brought to Jacob’s attention - he doesn’t want to put the idea in Jacob’s head if it isn’t there already - and the feeling never really lasts that long. Eventually Jacob does something, throws himself in Sam’s lap or hugs him from behind or kisses him soft and sweet as he passes Sam the coffee that he’d gotten for him or smiles the softest most loving smile that anyone has ever given him, and that cold, empty feeling melts away, snuffing out the fear and leaving behind only the warmth of being head over heels in love.

He always knew he’d end up here. He knew from the start that he’d love Jacob, that he’d be in love with Jacob. There was no other way for this to go.

Sam has had casual hookups before. Flings that were less like relationships and more like friends that enjoyed each other’s company and wanted to blow off some steam. The attraction was there, but the feelings weren’t. He’d felt no sense of loss at even the thought of those arrangements coming to an end.

He’s lost sleep over thinking of things between him and Jacob ending.

Jacob has become so ingrained in Sam’s life and his heart that things are no longer “I” but are now “we” and he doesn’t know how that will work once the season is over. They haven’t heard any news on a renewal as of yet, and he and Jacob haven’t discussed that part of it.

Sam pulls his phone out of his back pocket to check his messages. Still nothing from Jacob even though Sam had sent him a text 20 minutes ago asking if he wanted anything from catering while they’ve paused filming for a late lunch.

“Sam, hey, where’s Jacob? I had some questions about this bit that we’re filming later this afternoon.”

Sam looks up at Eric as he pockets his phone, hoping that his voice comes out steady as he replies. “Oh, um. I don’t actually know? Sorry. I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.”

Eric looks up from his script pages and Sam has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from telling Eric to go fuck himself when he asks, “Did you deactivate the fucking homing beacons the two of you have for each other’s asses or something?” He crosses his arms and cocks his head, an annoyingly smug grin on his face as he asks, “Wait a minute, is there trouble in paradise?”

And on any other day that wouldn’t be enough to get a rise out of Sam. It’s just Eric being Eric and he’s sort of used to that. But Sam is currently mid doom-spiral and what would normally feel like a little jab feels more like a hit from a sledge hammer. Just when he’s about to reply in a way that will probably get him pulled aside by at the very least the director and the very most Rolin or Mark, he stops short when he hears Jacob’s laughter as he and Delainey are making their way towards them from across the lot, sharing a bag of the popcorn that Delainey likes to keep stocked in her trailer.

Sam shoves his hands into his pockets to avoid nervously fidgeting with his fingers and forces a smile. “Hey, there you are.”

Jacob smiles and replies with, “Here I am.”

It disarms Sam that it’s such a genuine smile. Because it doesn’t add up with how things have been over the past few days. It’s not as if they’re fighting, lord knows they’ve fought enough that he would know how to approach this if they were. And the unfamiliar territory of not knowing what’s going on in Jacob’s head right now has all the worst case scenarios running rampant in his own mind. “I uh, I sent you a text. A little bit ago.”

Although the flash of guilt that crosses Jacob’s face should make Sam feel a bit better, it does the opposite. Because Sam can’t tell whether he actually feels guilty about missing Sam’s text or if he feels guilty that he ignored it. “Oh, did you? Shit, I’m sorry, Sam. Delainey and I sort of fell down a rabbit hole of reading Letterboxd reviews and lost track of time. I forgot that my phone was on silent.” He passes the bag of popcorn back to Delainey, who appears to be a bit confused as she looks back and forth between them,, then wipes his hand on the thigh of his costume, leaving a bit of a salty sugary residue that Carol will no doubt kill him for later. “I’m really sorry. Was it important?”

It wasn’t, not really. Sam doesn’t care that Jacob didn’t text him back, or that he spent the break with Delainey. He cares that Jacob is lying to him through his teeth about it, though. “No, never mind. It wasn’t important at all.” He avoids looking directly at Jacob or Delainey because he knows his poker face is absolute shit when he’s not on camera.

Sam catches the look Eric gives him from the corner of his eye and isn’t quite sure what he’s given away, but the next thing Sam knows, Eric turns to Jacob, jerks his thumb in Sam’s direction and says, “What’s up with him? Did you guys break up or something?”

This time, the comment hits the raw, exposed nerve of Sam’s insecurity and he can’t stop the, “Fuck off, Eric!” before it slips out. And apparently Jacob couldn’t stop himself either because those same words leave his own lips to echo in the bubble of tension now encasing the four of them.

There’s an awkward silence, with Eric wide eyed as he looks back and forth between Sam and Jacob, both of whom

seem to be trying to look everywhere but at each other. Delainey and Eric exchange glances and she offers him a sympathetic look, then tilts her head to the side just a bit, signaling for him to give them some space

He nods and takes a step back, mutters, “Sure, guys. No problem.”, then turns on his heel and walks away, rolled up script held in his clenched fist.

There’s a flustered PA walking in their direction, talking into her headset and Delainey knows the last thing Sam or Jacob need is for this to turn into workplace gossip fodder.

She has just enough time to warn them with a soft, “Hey, incoming” before the PA is there, apologizing for cutting Sam’s break short before whisking him away for an emergency wardrobe fitting because part of his costume has gone missing.

Sam spends the next couple of hours in relative silence, stomach uneasy and thoughts swirling. Whether he’s inside the wardrobe trailer or on set, he says almost nothing outside of responses to direct questions or delivering his lines. It’s noticed by quite a few people, he can tell, but the only one to ask if there’s anything going on is Assad. Sam assures him that everything is fine; he’s just tired.

He knows he has to talk to Jacob, and possibly apologize to Eric, but he doesn’t have the energy to do either at the moment.

And then the call comes. Jacob is needed in London ASAP for a meeting regarding a possible casting opportunity on The Sandman, something that Jacob has been talking about nonstop for months but was waiting on the call. Rolin assures him that it’s fine, they’ll make due without him. Luckily most of the upcoming shooting schedule for the next couple of days heavily revolves around Claudia and Madeline so very little has to be shifted around at all.

Sam is stuck on set, costume still undergoing a few alterations when Jacob wraps for the night. Jacob has to rush home to pack a bag, then heads to the airport. Sam barely gets to say bye and wish him good luck before he’s gone.

At the end of the night, after everyone’s wrapped, Sam stands outside of their shared trailer - it’s technically Jacob’s trailer; Sam has his own that goes unused for the most part - back in his own clothes, makeup washed off when it hits him that he has absolutely no motivation to go home.

Then there’s footsteps alongside him and an arm is looped around his. He looks down to see Delainey staring up at him.

“Fancy a walk?”

He smiles and lets out a long breath. “I’m afraid I’m not very good company at the moment.”

Delainey rolls her eyes and tugs him for a few steps until he’s walking alongside her. “You are the best company, Sam. Always.”

They walk in comfortable silence, her head resting on his arm, their arms still looped. When they reach the Charles Bridge and Sam notices Delainey starting to shiver from the chill in the air,, he stops to shrug his jacket off and drape it over her shoulders. It’s the first time he stares directly into her friendly brown eyes and it cracks his resolve. “I’m in love with him, Delainey.”

The weight of the confession presses down on his chest and he doesn’t take another breath until she smiles that soft smile that she reserves only for him and Jacob and tugs his hand to continue their walk.

“I know you are. It’ll all be okay, Sam. I promise.”

And he has no choice but to believe her, because he can’t bear the thought of accepting otherwise.

_________________________

“Not that I’m not enjoying your company, but how long are you going to avoid your boyfriend?”

Jacob is lying on the floor of Delainey’s trailer, an open bag of gummy bears resting on his stomach as Delainey scrolls through her Instagram feed on the sofa. He’d been gone for two full days of filming, with one meeting turning into another, that turned into a lunch, then a dinner and another meeting. He and Sam barely spoke while he was gone outside of a few texts with Sam’s well wishes and a couple of good morning and good night messages. Jacob could blame it on their mismatched schedules but if he’s honest, he doesn’t text more because he isn’t sure what to say. There’s an underlying tension between them and he doesn’t know how to break it.

He scrunches his nose and chomps another gummy bear. “This isn’t primary school. It sounds silly to call him my boyfriend.”

When his plane finally touched down in Prague, he headed straight to the set from the airport knowing full well that there’s a good chance that Sam wasn’t there yet. He was kind of hoping that he wasn’t, if he’s being honest. He still doesn’t know what to say.

“Jacob.”

He lifts his head to look up at her. “Hm?”

“You’re laying on the floor of my trailer, hiding and eating all of my sweets. Primary school.”

His head thunks back down. “...I'm not hiding.”

“You heard a PA announce that Sam was here over the walkie and took off.”

It’s true, he did. He looks down at the nearly empty gummy bear bag. “I’ll replace the sweets.”

She waves the offer away. “They’re Sam’s anyway. He left them here yesterday.”

Jacob nods and drums his fingers against the floor, the sound almost entirely absorbed by her fuzzy area rug. “How’s he been, by the way?”

Delainey hangs off the edge of the sofa to snatch the bag off his stomach and pops a few bears in her mouth. “You could find out for yourself if you just talked to him.”

Jacob sighs and rolls onto his side, supporting himself on his elbow. He runs his fingers along the edge of the rug and doesn’t meet her eyes when he asks, “Please?”

She doesn’t answer for a moment, then tosses her phone aside and sinks down to the floor beside him. “He’s been quiet. Quieter than normal, I’d say. I don’t think he’s sleeping well, even by Sam’s standards. He hasn’t spent much time on set. He’ll come by to have a chat with me or to have dinner. Then we walk around the city for a while.”

Jacob lets that sink in for a moment, then flops back down onto his back.

Delainey sighs and lays back, then turns her head to face him. “You wanna tell me what’s going on?”

He does, of course he does. But it also feels wrong to dump on her. “You shouldn’t have to get involved, Delainey.”

She disappears from his periphery for a moment, then hits him square in the face with a throw pillow. “What part of this entire situation right now suggests that I’m not already involved, you knob.”

He’d covered his face with his hands after the pillow attack in case there was a follow up, and when there is none, he peeks at her through his fingers. “I know, I’m sorry. This isn’t easy!” He sits up and scoots himself back until he is resting against the sofa. “I love Sam. I’m in love with Sam. And the thought of losing him scares the shit out of me.”

Delainey curls up into a seated position and tucks her legs under, shuffling closer until she can reach out and lay a hand on Jacob’s knee. “Why d’you think you’ll lose him?”

He laughs bitterly and leans his head back against the sofa cushion, staring up at a water stain on the ceiling. “Because I lose everyone. And that’s not some, like, introspective woe is me shit. In my life, in my past relationships, eventually people just leave. I’m either too much or not enough of what they want and they bounce. And it’s usually fine, right? Like, yeah it might hurt in the moment but that’s just my pride. I’ve never really been that attached to anyone.”

“Until now?”

Jacob nods. “Until now.” He lowers his chin until he meets her eyes. “I don’t think it would be quite so simple to get over it if he left too.”

Delainey knee walks closer and turns so she can sit beside him, shoulder to shoulder. “Do you really think that Sam would do that? That he would just leave you? Sam? Our Sam? Sam fucking Reid. The man that would find a way to snatch the moon out of the sky mid-day if it made you happy. The man who is on set right now even though he isn’t even on the damn call sheet for today to support you even though you’ve been ignoring him.”

“To support me? What d’you mean suppor-“ and then Jacob remembers exactly what it is they’re filming today. Between worrying about traveling back and his anxiety over the situation with Sam, he hadn’t bothered to review the pages for the day yet.

Season 2 has been emotionally exhausting for Jacob, with subject matter that hits a little too close to home sometimes. Sam has been there for most of it, whenever he can. He even rushed back to Prague from doing Newsreader press in Australia two weeks prior just to be there for the filming of episode 2x05 even though Jacob had told him not to worry if he couldn’t make it back in time. Lestat’s lines could've been added in post production. It would've been okay; he would’ve been fine. He has his own way of getting through those moments. Sam being there just makes it a bit easier to get out of that headspace.

Despite Jacob’s reassurances, Sam had caught the first flight out after his last interview and showed up at their trailer door with Jacob’s favorite pie from the local restaurant that they frequent every night, which they shared once filming had wrapped as Sam helped to remove the remnants of blood and burn makeup in between soft, exhausted sticky sweet kisses.

Delainey covers his hand with hers to stop him from tearing threads out of the carpet. “Look, Jacob. I understand why you’re scared, I do. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t be, but right now the two of you are so wrapped up in this self sabotaging worst case scenario ridiculousness and you’re putting more strain on your relationship than if you would just, I don’t know, fucking talk to each other? Be open and honest rather than being avoidant and miserable, maybe?”

Jacob turns his hand over so they’re palm to palm. “And if I fuck it up?”

She laughs, but Jacob knows better than to take it maliciously, and bumps their shoulders together. “Honestly? You will. You both will. A lot. But you’ll also do everything that you possibly can to make it better, too.”

He takes a deep breath and finds that it’s easier than it has been in days. “I guess I should go find him, huh?”

Delainey pats his palm, then reaches back to use the sofa cushion as leverage to push herself up and onto it. “Please do. I love you both, but the two of you are sad-eating your way through all of my favorite snacks.”

*

It doesn’t take long for him to find Sam. It does, admittedly, sting a little when Jacob goes to what’s become their trailer and Sam isn’t there, but it’s to be expected, he supposes. He walks the few steps until he reaches the door of Sam’s assigned trailer, gravel crunching beneath his feet. He steps onto the first step, and gently raps his knuckles against the door.

“Come in!”

He tries to gauge Sam’s mood from the tone of his voice, but through the door it just sounds faint and muffled. Jacob takes a calming breath, then slowly turns the handle and pushes the door open enough to peek his head inside.

Sam is laying on the sofa with the headphones that Jacob got him for his birthday askew on his head so one ear is uncovered. He’s in a baggy tshirt, joggers and he’d kicked his shoes off by the door. He looks soft and sleepy and comfortable and it hits Jacob like a freight train just how much he’s missed him. “Hey, Sam. Can we talk?”

Sam looks at him for a moment, and Jacob freezes, waiting for Sam to turn him away, but doesn’t. He turns his head to stare up at the ceiling instead, which Jacob takes as permission to climb up into the trailer and set his bag down beside the door, next to Sam’s trainers.

His back is to Sam when he hears, “So you’re done avoiding me, then? That’s good to know.”

Jacob pauses and has to swallow down the response from the defensive part of himself that’s sometimes too quick to react and doesn’t think before speaking. There’s a small table fitted with two chairs against the wall beside the door and he leans back against the edge of it as he takes his time counting to ten in his head before answering. “Fair. That’s. Okay that’s fair. I’m sorry.”

Then Sam sits up, tosses the headphones aside and swings his legs around so he can place his feet flat on the floor and face Jacob. “Let me ask you this one thing. Is this about me? Is whatever that’s going on in your head right now because of me?”

The question throws Jacob. It is and it isn’t. Sam isn’t to blame for the way Jacob has been acting but he is the reason for it. All of this is because he’s fallen in love with his best friend and between his low self esteem, self sabotaging tendencies and abandonment issues, he doesn’t know how to handle it. And it scares the shit out of him.

Jacob answers as honestly as he can. “Yes.”

The silence that follows is loud, the air thick with tension that threatens to choke the both of them. There are tears welling up in Sam’s eyes as he nods, gets up and walks closer to Jacob.

The closer he gets, the more Jacob can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Delainey was right - Sam isn’t sleeping well at all.

“Right. Okay then. Can I ask what changed? Did I do something or say something that made you decide you didn’t want to be with me anymore? That you wanted to push me away and avoid me out of the fucking blue? Or was this just meant to be a casual thing? Because Jacob, I’m going to be honest. I don’t know if I can be casual with you.”

The bottom falls out of Jacob’s stomach and his blood runs cold. “No, that’s not - fuck. I knew I’d fuck this up.”

Sam turns away from him and wipes at the corner of his eye. “No, no you didn’t fuck anything up. I guess I just misunderstood what was going on here, clearly.” Sam’s voice sounds empty, hollow and the finality of it makes Jacob panic and push off the table to reach out.

He grabs Sam’s wrist when he starts to walk away, and spins him back around. “No, no. You didn’t.”

There’s a tear rolling down Sam’s cheek and Jacob’s heart seizes at the sight of it. “Oh God, no no no. Please don’t cry.” He cups the curve of Sam’s cheek in his palm and wipes the tear away with his thumb. “Sam, love, please don’t cry because then I’ll cry and we’ll never finish this conversation. And we’ve really got to.” There’s another tear slowly making its way down Sam’s cheek and Jacob watches as it catches on the side of his thumb and rolls down the curve of his hand to soak into his shirtsleeve. He takes a deep, grounding breath before continuing. “I have been pulling away. I’ve been distant. But I wasn’t doing it because I didn’t want you anymore. I was doing it so that you wouldn’t leave. I was, fuck.” He trails off on a humorless laugh. “How do I even explain this without sounding absolutely fucking batshit?”

Sam remains silent, though Jacob knows there must be a million questions swirling around in his mind.

“I was trying to be less. Less me, I guess. I was trying to give you room to breathe. I was trying not to be too much.”

Sam takes a step back, letting Jacob’s hand fall away, brow creasing in confusion as he asks, “Jacob, what on Earth are you talking about? When have I ever said that you were too mu-”

Jacob puts a hand up and shakes his head. “I didn’t say that you said that, Sam!”

Now he’s the one that turns and walks away a few steps, lifting his hands to his face to press his palms against his closed eyes until he can see spots.

Sam doesn’t move. Rooted in place by fear and confusion. “Jacob, I’m trying to understand what you’re saying-”.

He cuts off as Jacob drops his hands to his sides, eyes reddened, head shaking as he says, “I’m not an easy person to be with, Sam. I can be annoying. I talk too much or try too hard or I’m too sad one minute and too hyper the next or I get too wrapped up in a project or game and disappear for, like, days at a time.”

He says it with the conviction of someone who has been told something so many times before that they’ve come to accept it as truth and Sam wants to gather Jacob into his arms and rain hellfire down on anyone that might have played a part in that. Before he can react, Jacob continues.

“But you…you’ve never made me feel that way. So I can’t help but think that, like, when is that going to change, you know? Cuz it has to change. It always does. People get sick of me, or I get sick of them and things fall apart. So I was trying not to do that with you so that you would stay. And I thought that I was doing a good job. You hadn’t gotten tired of me yet so I figured I must have been. But then people started making these jokes. Just stupid little comments that I could ignore at first. Because we were just friends so it didn’t really matter, right? But then we started this…this thing between us. And I thought okay, don’t fuck this up. Don’t do what you always do because I wanted this to work. So much. But then Assad said that thing the other day, and then Eric. And so before it all became too much, I thought that maybe if I pulled back just a little I could stop that from happening. Or at least slow it down a bit. But I never considered that you would think it was because my feelings for you had changed or that I didn’t want you anymore because it wasn’t. They haven’t. And I’m so, so, so sorry that I ever made you feel that way, Sam, because the truth is, I want to be with you all of the time. I want to be with you more than I’ve ever wanted to be with anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

Jacob looks into Sam’s still-watery eyes, growing more and more anxious with every passing second that Sam stays silent.

Sam wants to laugh. He wants to laugh and cry all at once because the two of them have been sitting on this for days when they could’ve just talked and realized that they were dealing with the same fucking demons.

He holds his hand out, palm up and Jacob doesn’t hesitate to slide his hand into Sam’s. They come together, chest to chest and Jacob tucks his face into Sam’s neck and they wrap their arms around one another. Jacob grips tightly to the back of Sam’s shirt as if he may never let go and Sam rests his cheek against the top of Jacob’s head.

His pulse is hammering and he wonders if Jacob can feel it where his forehead presses against Sam’s skin. He breathes in deep, letting the familiar scent of Jacob that lingers beneath cheap hotel conditioner soothe his frazzled nerves.

“They tried to change my accent.”

Jacob pulls back a bit to look into Sam’s eyes. “What?”

Sam huffs out a breath and focuses on the rise and fall of Jacob’s chest against his own, grounding himself so that he can slowly chip away at the wall he’d built around this topic.

“Over the years, I have been asked by the people who I thought were on my side, people who claimed to actually care about me, to change who I am. My accent, my mannerisms, my look, my social circles. All to turn myself into someone that they said would be more, fuck, I don’t know, desirable? Marketable? I wasn’t landing the roles that they wanted and they told me”, he laughs bitterly at the memory and blinks away a fresh set of tears. He tips his head back just enough to avoid Jacob’s eyes, knowing that one look will open the floodgates right now.

Jacob doesn’t press. He knows the feeling and wants Sam to work through this in his own time. Instead, he tightens his hold around Sam’s waist, drops a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw and waits, knowing that Sam has more to say.

“I guess it’s stuck with me. And bothered me a bit more than I thought it did. So when things were going well between us and then the thing with Assad and Eric happened and you started pulling away afterwards, I thought this was about me. I thought you didn’t want people to think you were with me, or that maybe you realized that actually being with me wasn’t as good as the idea of being with me. Like maybe I’m a better choice on paper than in practice.”

Jacob is shaking his head emphatically before Sam’s even finished speaking. “No, Sam. Fuck no. There’s absolutely nothing about you that needs to be changed, not a single fucking thing. Not for me, not for anyone.” He holds Sam’s face in his hands and this time he does force Sam to meet his gaze. “I am so sorry that I ever made you doubt that.”

Sam closes his eyes for a moment and lets the weight of the past week finally melt away. He leans forward and kisses across Jacob’s brow and down his temple to the shell of his ear. “You are so far from annoying. Or too much. Or any other fucking bullshit thing people have said to you in the past.” It breaks his heart to think of anyone making Jacob feel like he’s anything other than incredible. “If they didn’t know how lucky they were for having you in their lives, then fuck them. You, just as you are, are the perfect amount of everything to me.”

He tucks his nose behind Jacob’s ear as they embrace, his mind finally clearer than it’s been in days. They stand in comfortable silence until Sam says, “So, as it turns out, we’re both pretty shit at this.”

Jacob huffs a laugh and gently knocks his forehead against Sam’s shoulder, then pulls back to meet Sam’s gaze. “Thank you.”

Sam smiles and tilts his head in confusion. “What for?”

“For being here. For me. With me. Thank you.”

He knows what Jacob means without it being said. He also doesn’t need to be thanked for it. Sam shakes his head and rests his thumb in the dip of Jacob’s chin, his other fingers curling around Jacob’s jaw. “You never have to thank me for that. Ever.”

He doesn’t, Jacob knows he doesn’t. But he also knows that he does. Because it serves as a reminder that he isn’t alone. That there is someone that will show up, no questions asked. No matter the time or whether they’re in the same city or oceans apart. Sam is there for him. They’re there for each other.

Jacob slides his hand up Sam’s back to curl around the back of his neck and pull him closer, bringing their lips together. It’s a kiss that starts off soft and slow, a kiss like they haven’t had in days. He angles his head and Sam opens his mouth just a bit but it’s all the invitation that Jacob needs to dip his tongue inside. Sam sighs at the first touch of their tongues, closes his lips around Jacob’s to suck on it just a little, then chases after it when Jacob pulls it back.

He moans as Sam licks into his mouth and Sam grunts, stroking along Jacob’s jaw with the back of his fingers.

Jacob knows he doesn’t have much time. He knows that sometime soon there will be someone coming for him to drag him to the makeup trailer. He also doesn’t care.

He puts his hand on Sam’s chest then slides it down slowly, feeling every ridge of muscle on Sam’s chest and stomach until he reaches the drawstring of Sam’s joggers.

Sam pulls back from the kiss and this time it’s Jacob’s turn to chase after him. “J-Jacob, hold on.”

Jacob doesn’t answer, but takes a step forward, chest bumping Sam’s just enough to get him to take a step back. Then he begins undoing his own drawstring as he walks Sam backwards across the trailer. He leans in for another kiss and palms Sam through the soft material.

“Ah, fuck. Jacob. Jake.” Sam wraps his fingers around Jacob’s wrist, halting his movement. “We can’t…here? You’re sure?”

Jacob nods, then leans in and bites the jut of Sam’s chin. “Here. I’m sure.” He drops his trousers and they pool around his ankles. “Right here.” Sam’s are hanging low on his hips, just barely staying up, so Jacob hooks his thumbs into the waistband, then pauses. “Wait, do you?”

Sam laughs like it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever heard. “Of course I do.” Jacob nods and gives them the little shove they need to fall down.

Sam looks down at his half-hard dick, then up at Jacob, then over at the entrance of the trailer. Jacob is probably going to be called to hair and makeup any minute now. “Is there even time for this?”

Jacob shuffles forward a few steps, pushing Sam back with a hand on his chest, both of them tripping over the clothes still around their ankles. “‘Course there is.”

Sam falls back against the sofa and hisses as his skin hits the cold leather.

Jacob takes him in, shirt rucked up just a bit, cock fully hard and curved up towards his belly, joggers and underwear now dangling off of one ankle and he can’t believe how wrong he was about everything. How close he came to fucking it all up. He toes off his trainers and kicks his own joggers away and lowers himself until he’s laying on top of Sam, chest to chest.

Sam tucks his forehead into Jacob’s neck and hisses when their cocks slide together. “God, this is the stupidest idea we’ve ever had.”

Jacob bites his lip when he feels Sam’s knuckles brush against his belly before they wrap around his cock. “Mmm, debatable.”

Sam drags the point of his nose along Jacob’s jaw and gently squeezes Jacob’s length in his hand. He swallows, voice breathy as he says, “We don’t even have any lube in here.” His accent is thick, thicker than he normally allows it to be and Jacob shivers at the deep timbre of it.

They’ve never fucked at work - not wanting to run the risk of getting caught. Until today, apparently.

Jacob rolls his hips once, then pauses. “Fuck, wait. My bag. I have some in the front pocket of my bag. In my liquids bag.” He tries to pull back but Sam’s grip on his cock stops him.

“Did you plan this? I mean, not this time in particular, but did you plan on us fucking at work at some point?”

Jacob leans in to steal a kiss that’s mostly tongue. “Mhm, ‘course I did. I’ll show you the storyboard when we get back to the flat if you want now for fucks’ sake, let go of my dick so I can fuck you.”

They both pause at that and laugh. Full bodied, shoulder shaking laughter. Then Jacob curls his hand around the back of Sam’s neck to bring him closer for a kiss that has almost too much teeth from how hard they’re grinning.

Sam releases his hold and Jacob drops a kiss to the curve of Sam’s neck, right above the collar of his shirt, then goes in search of the lube.

“Bring condoms if you have them!” At Jacob’s pause and whine, Sam adds, “Jake, we don’t have time to deal with the mess. Do you really want to worry about checking for come stains when we’re rushing out of here?”

When Jacob gets back, he slaps two condoms and a packet of lube down on Sam’s chest.

Sam rips one of the condom packets open with his teeth and slides it on, then waits for Jacob to do the same.

“Doesn’t this seem wrong to you?”

Sam quirks an eyebrow. “Cuz you’re about to fuck me at work?”

Jacob motions at Sam’s condom covered dick. “No. It’s like you’re a teenager about to jerk off into a sock again.”

Sam pauses as he’s reaching for the lube packet. “Wait, again? I never did that. Did you?”

Jacob’s hands fumble and he nearly drops the condom. “No…of course not.” He slides it on, then gets on his knees in between Sam’s spread thighs. Sam hands him the opened packet of lube and Jacob pours some out onto his fingers, then rubs them together to warm it up before brushing them over Sam’s hole.

He slowly slips a finger in and Sam pulls him down by his shirt collar into a kiss. Jacob deepens the kiss, bracing himself on one arm, palm flat on the cushion beside Sam’s head. Sam exhales into Jacob’s mouth when Jacob curls his finger and then whines as Jacob pulls it out. When Jacob starts to slowly slide his finger back in, Sam taps Jacob’s side. “Jacob, as much as I appreciate that you’re trying to take your time right now, people are gonna be looking for you soon.”

Jacob nods and kisses along the ridge of Sam’s jaw. “I know, I know.” He presses his lips to Sam’s as he adds another finger. Sam arches, pulling away from Jacob’s kiss as his eyes flutter shut and Jacob has to muffle his own moan in Sam’s neck.

The fingers of one of Sam’s hands are clutching Jacob’s side, Lestat’s nails five pinpoints of pleasurepain and Jacob’s hips snap forward involuntarily at the feeling of them.

He spreads his fingers as Sam bears down and is just slipping the tip of a third in when Sam bucks his hips. “I’m good, I’m good, Jacob. Please.”

Jacob hesitates and holds Sam’s gaze and Sam nods then tries to pull Jacob up by his shirt. “I swear, I’m good.”

Jacob nods, dropping a kiss onto Sam’s bent knee, then kisses his way up Sam’s thigh, over his stomach, up his chest all the way to his lips. Sam curls his leg around Jacob’s hip as he shifts back just enough to line himself up. Sam fists the back of Jacob’s shirt and tugs impatiently and Jacob laughs. “Okay, okay. One second, love, I promise.”

Jacob quickly slicks himself up with the remaining lube then pushes in slowly until he bottoms out, jaw dropping around a loud moan at the tight heat of Sam. Sam slaps a hand over his mouth. “Jacob, babe, you're gonna have to be a little more quiet than that.” He follows that by arching, tilting his hips back, then snapping them forward to meet Jacob’s next thrust, coaxing another moan from Jacob.

This moan is somewhat muffled by Sam’s hand, but not enough, so Sam curls three of his fingers into Jacob’s mouth so he can suck on them instead, which Jacob immediately does, breathing harshly through his nose as Sam pulls his fingers out far enough that Jacob can slide his tongue over the points of Lestat’s nails.

Jacob presses his lower half closer, using his bracing arm as leverage for harder, faster thrusts until Sam’s head is butting against the arm of the sofa with each snap of his hips. After one particular filthy roll of Jacob’s hips, Sam has to shove his own shirt into his mouth and bite down to muffle his own moan.

Jacob lets Sam’s fingers slip from his mouth when he leans closer to bring their foreheads together, sweat dripping from his brow to soak into Sam’s tousled hair. “Sam, I’m…fuck.”

Sam nods and drapes his arms over Jacob’s shoulders, lacing his fingers behind his head. “Me too, me too. I’m right there. God, Jacob, fuck. Right there”

Jacob speeds up his thrusts, acutely aware of the creaking that is now coming from the sofa frame and hoping that it’ll hold up at least until they finish. All it takes is the feeling of Lestat’s nails scratching down the back of his neck and Sam whispering, “come for me, baby” in his ear, and he’s gone.

Jacob’s eyes slam shut as he comes, and Sam pulls him into a kiss to swallow his moan as Jacob’s hips twitch helplessly. Jacob loses himself in the kiss, blood roaring in his ears, every swipe of Sam’s tongue against his taking him higher and higher until he slowly comes back down.

When he feels Sam reach between them for his own dick, Jacob bats his hand away.

Sam lifts his hips, trying to grind against Jacob’s stomach. “Jacob, please. I need to-”

Jacob nods and pulls back slowly, gently easing his hips back until he slips out of Sam, then carefully removes and ties off his condom and tosses it in the general direction of the bin. “I know, I know you do. I’m gonna take care of you.”

He drops to his knees a bit less than gracefully, rolls the condom down off of Sam’s dick and barely has time to get his lips around the head before Sam is coming, coating Jacob’s tongue and drowning out the condom taste. He swallows, then sucks Sam down until he’s nestled in the vice of Jacob’s throat.

Jacob hums and the deep rumble and vibration of it is like a jolt of electricity down Sam’s spine. Sam gasps, hips bucking and then he’s got one hand gripping tight onto Jacob’s shoulder and lifts the other to his mouth to bite down between his wrist and the heel of his palm, teeth digging into the flesh in a desperate attempt to keep quiet.

Jacob trails his fingertips up and down from Sam’s thighs to where his shirt is bunched up just above his belly button, hypersensitive muscles jumping beneath his touch.

Then all at once, Sam’s muscles unclench and he falls bonelessly back against the cushions.

Jacob pulls back until the tip of Sam’s dick rests heavy and spent against his parted lips and looks up at Sam. The sight of his watery eyes, flushed cheeks, and mussed hair has Sam’s dick spurting one final, pathetic drop against Jacob’s lower lip. Jacob hums in appreciation as he slides his tongue out to lick it up.

Sam’s breath is coming out in harsh pants against his wrist and when he finally pulls his hand away to look at the deep impressions of teeth in his skin, Jacob smiles softly and far too sweetly for someone that just had a dick wedged in his throat. He reaches out to tuck a strand of Sam’s hair behind his ear, then thumbs at a drop of sweat that’s sliding along his jaw.

There’s a bit of come at the corner of Jacob’s mouth and Sam somehow musters enough strength to sit up and yank Jacob in by the back of his neck, tongue sliding over the mess until he can push it into Jacob’s mouth. Jacob grins into the kiss, letting Sam suck the taste of himself off of Jacob’s lips before he pulls back to press a soft kiss to the teeth marks on Sam’s wrist.

“I don’t know how we’re gonna explain those.”

Sam shrugs and traces over the marks with the tip of one of Lestat’s nails. “In retrospect, it probably was not my smartest moment.”

Jacob shakes his head as he cradles Sam’s wrist in his hand and presses another kiss right over the bite. “I disagree.” He trails kisses along Sam’s forearm, uses the flat of his tongue to trace a vein that runs up from his wrist, and scrapes his teeth over it just a little when he reaches his bicep, the muscle twitching beneath his mouth.

Sam shudders and ducks down to suck a kiss right behind Jacob’s ear then presses his temple to Jacob’s as he continues sucking kisses over Sam’s skin. “Jacob. We can’t. Jake we gotta. We can’t. We have to stop. We’re already cutting it close.”

Jacob nods and uses the tip of his nose to push Sam’s sleeve up a bit further so he can lick a swirl right over the vein. “We are. We’re stopping.” He slips his hands into Sam’s hair and pulls him in until they’re breathing the same air. “This is me stopping.”

Sam’s mouth is open, waiting for Jacob’s tongue before he’s even finished speaking. He scoots back and Jacob follows, climbing up onto the sofa and settling his weight down onto Sam’s lap.

Sam’s hands are on Jacob’s ass, using his grip to haul him closer and guide him into a slow grind.

Jacob uses his hold on Sam’s hair to tip his head back and suck on his tongue, his grip tight enough that Sam has no choice but to let him.

Sam tightens his grip on Jacob’s ass in response, careful not to let Lestat’s nails dig in too much. They have to stop, they know they have to stop, but Sam rolls his hips up at the exact same moment that Jacob grinds down and all notions of workplace responsibilities fly out the window.

Jacob’s got Sam’s shirt halfway off, having dragged it up so Sam could pull his arms free but not willing to stop their kiss long enough for him to pull it off.

Then there’s a knock on the trailer door.

“Sam? It’s Rebecca. Is Jacob in there?”

The sound of their lips separating is obscenely loud.

Jacob is giggling into Sam’s neck as Sam tries to keep it together so he can respond. “Hey, Beccs. Yeah he’s here. He’s comi-”, he cuts off as Jacob snorts and Sam pinches the sensitive skin of his inner thigh in retaliation. “He’ll be right there! Thank you!”

When they’re fairly certain she’s walked off, Jacob helps Sam fix his shirt, then rests his hands on Sam’s wide shoulders. “Okay. I can do this.”

Sam nods. “You can.”

“I’m a professional.”

Another nod. “You are.”

“We look a mess, don’t we?”

Sam’s hair is a bit tangled from Jacob’s fingers. Their lips are kiss swollen. Sam has a bite on his wrist that’s getting redder by the second and Sam can’t be sure but he thinks there’s some come on their shirts. “We absolutely do.”

“Fuck.”

Then there’s another knock, followed by an impatient, “Guys?”

*

Jacob is tired. Exhausted, even though he’ll never admit to it. Sam watches from beside the camera, right in Jacob’s eyeline, as Jacob stumbles over another line then slaps his thigh, clearly irritated with himself.

He apologizes to Emma and Assad pats him on the shoulder in support. He gets it, they’ve all been there.

Jacob is flagging; he needs a minute.

Sam leans over to Emma as they’re resetting. “Hey, Emm. D’you think we could break for a few? I think he could use it.” He jerks his chin in Jacob’s direction, where he’s staring down into the rubber pool of blood on the floor beside his feet, jaw clenching and unclenching over and over.

Emma gives Sam a sympathetic look and glances down at her watch. Sam knows they’re pushing it. They’ve already been at it for a few hours, and there’s still a bit more to do with Delainey and Roxane.

“We can spare five. The schedule is tight tonight.”

Sam nods and pushes off from the wall. “I appreciate it.” He walks over to Jacob, who doesn’t seem to notice him coming until he’s squatting right in front of Jacob. “Hey, come take a walk with me?”

Jacob shakes his head as he digs Louis’ thumbnail into a seam on the chair. “I’m good. I’ll get it on the next one.”

Sam covers Jacob’s hand with his, curling his fingers around Jacob’s until they still. “I know you will, but Emma said she needed five minutes. I think she had to take a call”, he looks over his shoulder to make sure that Emma isn’t standing there anymore, “so walk with me while we wait for her to get back?”

He finally looks up from the faux blood pool and blinks, Louis instantly falling away and leaving behind an exhausted Jacob.

Sam stands and Jacob allows himself to be pulled up with him. He looks around for a place where he and Jacob can talk in private and spots Delainey and Roxane talking to Assad across the set. Delainey motions to the area behind her, the entrance to Louis and Claudia’s flat and Sam nods.

He tugs Jacob’s hand. “Let’s go over here.”

He leads Jacob to the corridor with a hand on his lower back, weaving their way through crew members and stepping over cables.

When they reach the enclosed space, Sam reaches for his hand again and leads him far enough in that they won’t be seen by anyone else. He leans his back against the wall and Jacob sways closer.

He tips forward and rests his forehead against Sam’s chest. Sam kisses the top of his head, careful not to mess up his hair, and rubs his palms up and down Jacob’s arms. “Tired?”

Jacob nods around a yawn. “More than I realized.”

Sam wishes he could just take Jacob home and to bed, but he knows that they have to at least get through this scene. He doesn’t know when the last time Jacob ate was, but it was probably some time around his flight. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out three different energy bars. “Have one of these, please.”

Jacob lifts his head and smiles. They’re all ones that Jacob favors. Sam will eat them, but they wouldn’t be his first choice.

Jacob grabs the cereal milk flavored one and tears it open before taking a bite, careful to chew with his molars so he doesn’t break Louis’ fangs.

Once he’s done, Sam slips the empty wrapper back into his pocket as Jacob steals a soft kiss and whispers, “thank you”, against Sam’s lips.

Sam smiles and bumps their noses together. “Ready to go back out there?”

Jacob nods and sneaks one more kiss before walking back, Sam trailing closely behind. He sits down in the chair as Sam reclaims his spot right in front of Jacob, behind the camera. Jacob meets his gaze and Sam sends him a wink and a small, almost imperceptible nod. At the crack of the clapperboard, Jacob is gone and Louis is back.

He nails it on the next take.

They need to get through one last scene before they wrap for the night, so while Jacob is changing costumes and the room is being reset, Sam talks to Emma about tomorrow night’s shoot.

When Jacob returns, his eyes are a bit brighter than they were before, but he’s still very obviously exhausted.

Assad and Delainey are running their lines with Roxane when Jacob walks past and the three of them watch as Jacob comes up behind Sam and gently lays his head on Sam’s shoulder. Sam, still mid conversation with Emma, adjusts his stance a bit to drop his shoulder ever so slightly so that Jacob’s neck is in a more comfortable position.

Assad hums and turns towards Delainey. “Hey, d’you think that-“

Delainey lays her hand on Assad’s arm and shakes her head. “Let’s not.”

Assad nods. “Right, no. Of course. You’re right.” He watches as Sam leans his head to the side until it’s resting against Jacob’s as he listens intently to Emma. “I’m just saying, I think there might be something goi-”.

Delainey levels him with a look and he cuts off mid sentence.

______________

Sam is dragged out of sleep by a thunderclap loud enough to rattle the windows of their flat. He isn’t sure of the time, but Jacob hasn’t woken him up so it can’t possibly be that late, he decides. He keeps his eyes shut, hoping that he’ll be able to drift off again until their alarm goes off, when he hears what sounds like something drip onto the pillow beside him.

The last thing they need right now is a ceiling leak.

The next drip lands closer to his ear and is closely followed by one that lands right between his eyes and rolls down the bridge of his nose. He blinks his eyes open and instead of being faced with a leaking ceiling, he’s greeted by a grinning wet-haired Jacob.

“Oh, you’re awake. Good morning.”

Jacob is shirtless, a towel tied loosely around his waist. He smells of citrus shower gel and shampoo, his hair curling over his forehead.

Sam laughs and wipes away the water now sliding down his cheek, threatening to go inside his ear. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

Jacob flattens a palm to his chest in mock outrage. “I don’t know what you’re insinuating. I was just laying here waiting for my boyfriend to wake up.” He hesitates only slightly on the word boyfriend and it helps wake Sam up better than any amount of caffeine could.

He loops his arm around Jacob’s neck and pulls him down flush to his chest. “I’m sure.”

Jacob uses the tip of his index finger to trace the scar at the corner of Sam’s mouth and Sam presses a kiss to it.

Jacob swings a leg over Sam’s, settles atop his thighs, then leans forward and supports himself on his forearms on each side of Sam’s head. “Hi.”

Sam rests his hands on Jacob’s thighs, squeezing at the muscle beneath the towel. Jacob looks well rested, having slept off the exhaustion from yesterday, skin still a bit flushed from the heat of his shower. “Hi.”

Jacob leans closer, his eyes lowering to Sam’s lips and Sam lifts his chin just a bit, ready for the kiss, but then Jacob shakes his head, sending more water droplets flying down onto Sam’s face.

He laughs as Sam grips him by the hinge of his hips and flips them over, pinning Jacob beneath his weight. ”Alright, that’s how you wanna play?” He digs his fingers into Jacob’s sides, right into the spot where he’s most ticklish and Jacob barks out a laugh.

“No, no Sam, wait. I’m sorry. I’m sorr-”, he breaks off on an embarrassingly high pitched giggle that he will most definitely deny later. “Truce! Let’s call a truce!”

Sam’s hair is loose, long curls framing Jacob’s face as he hovers above him. They’re both breathing hard, chests heaving. Jacob’s towel has slid open enough that his knees are bent, inner thighs bracketing Sam’s slim waist.

The smile slowly fades from Jacob’s face as his lips part when Sam leans a little closer. He cups Sam’s cheek in his hand, thumb brushing over the apple of his cheekbone as he inhales right before Sam’s lips meet his.

Then Sam abruptly pulls back and rolls off, laughing as he heads towards the bathroom, leaving a stunned Jacob blinking up at the ceiling.

“Oh, that was mean. I hate you!”

When Sam returns a few moments later, breath fresh and face washed, he finds Jacob with his eyes closed, drumming a beat onto his chest with his fingers.

He slips back into bed and lays on his side, leaning on his elbow as he watches Jacob’s head bopping along to whatever tune it is that only he can hear.

Jacob pops one eye open and laughs. “Why are you watching me like a creep right now?”

Sam rolls his eyes. “A creep, right. Like someone who watches someone else while they’re sleeping?”

Jacob wrinkles his nose. “Gross, who would do something like that?”

Sam laughs and lays flat on his back. “Some creep that I know.”

“For the record,” Jacob says as he rolls over and accidentally knees Sam in the stomach when he tries to straddle him again. “Sorry, sorry.” He finally settles, palms flat on Sam’s chest. “For the record, I wasn’t watching you. I was waiting.”

Sam’s eyes are drawn to the steadily widening gap in Jacob’s towel, which has opened enough for Sam to see that Jacob is at least partially hard. He hums and licks his lips, sliding his fingers up the wiry hair on Jacob’s thighs until he can grip the edges of the towel and finally pull the knot free. “Waiting for what?”

Jacob leans in, the tip of his cock rubbing over Sam’s stomach as he whispers against Sam’s lips, “For this.”

Sam’s jaw is dropped, mouth open and waiting before Jacob is even finished speaking. He hooks his hands under Jacob’s ass and uses the grip to pull him closer until he’s sitting on the ridge of Sam’s boxer-clad cock.

Jacob moans as he rocks his hips, Sam’s tongue in his mouth as his cock slides against Jacob’s balls.

Jacob blindly reaches for the bedside table, knocking Sam’s glasses and phone off as he searches for the drawer handle. He mumbles, “shit, sorry”, against Sam’s lips and Sam shakes his head and holds Jacob’s face in his hands to deepen the kiss. “‘s fine.”

Jacob’s hand wraps around the bottle of lube but when he tries to sit up, Sam keeps him in place by holding his bottom lip between his teeth.

He moans again, louder, and licks back into Sam’s mouth, tongue sliding wetly against Sam’s as lifts himself onto his knees and uses his free hand to pull the band of Sam’s underwear down enough to free his cock, tucking the band behind his balls.

Sam pulls back with a hiss when Jacob wraps a slick hand around his cock, the lube not yet warmed to body temperature. Jacob pumps his hand just enough to get Sam coated, then reaches back to guide Sam as he sinks down.

“Hey, hey wait.” Sam grabs onto Jacob, one hand at his waist and one on his arm, to stop him. “Let me get you ready first, Jake.”

Jacob grins and shakes his head, leaning forward to whisper, “Trust me”, into Sam’s ear before lowering his hips, slowly sliding down on Sam’s cock until he’s sitting flush against his thighs.

Sam’s head falls back, eyes sliding shut at the feel of Jacob opening for him, already slick and loose. He wraps his hands around the hinge of Jacob’s hips, thumbs slotting into the groove. “Jesus, fuck. When did you even-”, he cuts off on a gasp when Jacob squeezes around him and lifts himself up, then drops back down.

Jacob licks a line up Sam’s throat, tongue scraping against two-day old stubble. “Mmm, after my shower.” He rocks his hips back and then forward, again. “Didn’t want to have to wait.”

Sam’s cock twitches at the admission and he bucks his hips. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear to God.” He wraps an arm around Jacob’s lower back for support as he sits up and scoots back to rest against the headboard.

Jacob moans and leans his forehead against Sam’s shoulder, breath catching at how easily Sam can manhandle him into position.

Sam’s hands grip Jacob’s ass, spreading his cheeks apart as he sucks kisses across Jacob’s jaw so he can speak right into his ear. “God, fuck. You’re so tight for me, baby. Always so fucking tight for me.”

A shiver runs down Jacob’s spine and his hips falter as he rolls himself against Sam. “D-don’t. Sam, don’t do that. I’m not gonna last if you do that, fuck.”

Sam grins and flicks his tongue against Jacob’s earlobe. He tightens his hold on Jacob, fingertips digging into the meat of his ass. “You look so good bouncing on my cock. You take it so good.”

Jacob’s cock twitches and a drop of come leaks from the tip, sliding down to disappear at the neat cropped curls at the base. He arches his back and brings his hand up to cover Sam’s mouth. “Jesus. Shut up. Shut up shut up shut up.”

He shuts his eyes tight and breathes deep, trying to rein it in while Sam chuckles against his throat. Sam knows that dirty talk, especially Sam’s deep voiced dirty talk, will set Jacob off faster than he would ever admit.

But Sam has his weaknesses too. Two can play that game.

Jacob slides his hands into Sam’s hair, gripping onto the strands so he can tug Sam’s head back and expose his throat. Jacob slides his tongue over the dip at the base of Sam’s throat as he swirls his hips, then slowly licks his way to Sam’s ear, sucking a kiss just beneath it before moaning loudly.

Sam’s hips buck wildly.

Jacob bites back a grin as he licks and sucks his way across Sam’s throat until he reaches his other ear. He moans again, this time squeezing himself around Sam’s cock while he does it. He hisses at the bite of Lestat’s nails pressing into his ass and Sam kisses his shoulder in apology and rubs over the spot with his fingertips.

Jacob tugs a little harder at Sam’s hair and on the next moan, Sam rolls them over, hand pressed against Jacob’s lower back to keep them together.

Before Jacob can even settle back into the pillows, Sam is grabbing him by the waist, sliding in deep then pulling out to the tip only to slide in faster over and over, without mercy.

Jacob’s breath is caught in his throat, coming out in short hiccups as his legs splay open and he has no choice but to take everything that Sam is giving.

His back arches as his hands scramble for something to grip onto and he settles for wrapping one hand around Sam’s forearm where it’s braced beside his head and pushing the flat of his other palm against the headboard. “God, Sam. Sam - oh my fucking god.”

When Jacob lets go of Sam’s arm and reaches for his own dick, Sam slaps his hand aside. He shifts his weight to one arm and brings his other hand up to his mouth, licking a stripe down his palm, then wraps it around Jacob’s dick and strokes once, twice and then Jacob is coming in long ropes over his chest.

Sam grits his teeth, sweat burning his eyes as he watches Jacob fall apart beneath him. When Jacob starts to come down, Sam finally lets himself go, slamming in one final time and holding himself deep inside as he comes. Then his arms finally give out and he falls against Jacob, both of their chests heaving as they struggle to catch their breath.

When Jacob can feel his limbs again, he cups the back of Sam’s neck with his palm and Sam hums, pushing back into it.

“You cheated, by the way. That was cheating”

Sam laughs into Jacob’s neck, then looks up to meet his eyes. “You know, you really are a sore loser.” His cheeks are flushed, a smug smile on his kiss-swollen lips. Hair is falling around his face in damp curls and Jacob’s heart trips over itself at how beautiful Sam is. Jacob loves him. God does he love him.

He brushes away a curl that’s sticking to the sweat on Sam’s brow. “I love you, you know that, right?”

Sam blinks at him, face blank for a moment before splitting into a wide eye-crinkling grin. “Yeah?”

Jacob traces the grooves of Sam’s eye crinkles with the pad of his thumb. “Yeah.”

Sam presses his thumb into the dip in Jacob’s chin as he comes in for a kiss and says, “I love you, too”, against his lips.

His cock finally slips out as they kiss, laying spent against Sam’s thigh as the mess drips down onto the sheets.

Sam reaches down to push his underwear far enough down his thighs for him to kick them away, then hooks his arm around Jacob’s waist and rolls them over, away from the wet spot. He tucks one arm behind his head and drapes the other around Jacob, stroking his fingertips over the dip of Jacob’s lower back, staring into Jacob’s eyes as Jacob rests his chin on the back of his hands where they rest on Sam’s chest.

“I miss your eyes when we’re on set.”

Jacob wrinkles nose as his brow furrows in confusion. “Hm?”

“Your eyes. I miss seeing them at work. You’re beautiful with the contacts, don’t get me wrong, but I prefer your natural eye color.”

Jacob rolls his eyes but Sam can see the slight flush to his skin from the compliment. “A good orgasm makes you sappy, did you know that?”

Sam leans forward and smacks a wet kiss right in the middle of Jacob’s forehead. “Nah, you do.”

Jacob smiles and wiggles his hips a bit to snuggle in closer and Sam pulls the blanket up a bit higher on his back. The storm is still raging outside and it’s making their bedroom cooler than it normally would be.

“Speaking of work, how long do you think it’ll take before Assad catches us? He was eying us like a hawk last night.”

Sam’s hand stills against Jacob’s back. His voice is soft, quiet, when he says, “It doesn’t matter to me. If people found out, I mean. Outside of just wanting our private lives to be private, I don’t care if people know about us.”

Jacob shakes his head, not wanting Sam to think that’s what he meant at all. “No, neither do I. I don’t care in the slightest.” He kisses Sam’s chest, right over his heart. “Maybe we should just…tell him? Put him out of his misery?”

The way Sam smiles and breathes out, “Yeah?”, makes it clear that he’d been concerned that Jacob would care if people found out.

Jacob presses another kiss against Sam’s chest, then slowly kisses his way up. There’s another loud crack of thunder, then his lips are against Sam’s as he says, “Yeah.”

*

It’s ridiculous, really, how closely Assad has been watching them since they’ve arrived on set. They’re hanging out at the picnic tables outside of Delainey’s trailer now that the weather has cleared up, waiting for the call to go into Makeup.

Sam is trying to teach Delainey how to play poker with the help of Roxane. Jacob is seated at the edge of the bench playing Breath of the Wild, with Sam straddling the bench so that he can face Delainey, his back leaning against Jacob’s side. Roxane is sat opposite Delainey on the other bench, Assad sitting beside her, across from Jacob, pretending to read one of Delainey’s random romance novels, his eyes going back and forth from Jacob to Sam.

After about 15 minutes of Assad’s not-so-covert spying attempts, Jacob rolls his eyes and taps Sam on the shoulder. “Hey.”

Sam tilts his head back against Jacob’s shoulder, holding a freshly dealt hand of cards. “Hm?”

Jacob leans over and presses his lips to Sam’s, then takes it a step further and licks across the seam of his mouth.

Sam opens his mouth on instinct, cards slipping out of his hand as he reaches back to cup his hand around the back of Jacob’s neck and deepen the kiss.

Assad drops the book to the metal tabletop and claps his hands together. “I knew it! I knew you were lying. I knew it! I told you!” He looks over at Delainey to rub his victory in her face but sees that she’s already smiling. “You knew, didn’t you? You knew this whole time…”

She holds both hands up to accept the high fives from the still-kissing Sam and Jacob, Roxane’s laughter echoing throughout the space.

Assad leans back, a look of betrayal on his face. “My god, the three of you really are like a wicked little family, aren’t you?” He snatches his phone up from the table and Delainey looks up to see him furiously typing.

“Hey, what’re you doing?”

“Letting the internet know they were right.” He wasn’t, really, but the lie was worth it to see Delainey’s eyes go wide as she reaches across the table to snatch the phone out of his hand.

Jacob and Sam both flip him off, no longer kissing but still close, noses brushing as they share the same air.

Assad will never admit it out loud, but they really are disgustingly cute. And now that he thinks about it - the internet was wrong. Yes, they’re fucking. Clearly. But as he watches Sam remove his own sunglasses to slide them onto Jacob’s face to protect his eyes from the sun, there’s no doubt that it isn’t just that. That’s love.