Adam slept about as well as someone could, considering the confrontations he had been privy to with Dustin earlier in the day, though he was grateful that he had truly only napped for an hour or so. When he opened his eyes it was still light out, a feat for a nap in the middle of a winter day. Carefully, mindful of Sam sleeping beside him, he fished his phone out of his pocket, tapping at the power button to display the screen. Though he flinched at the sudden brightness of the LED display, he still read the time—four thirty.

A good cat nap, he decided as he pocketed his phone once more. After a few moments of checking to make sure moving wouldn’t jostle Sam into waking, Adam finally moved again, easing himself out of the bed and padding his way out to the hallway. As he carefully closed the door most of the way, he glanced over at the armchair he’d moved in the room to sit and eat with Sam. He made a mental note for himself to move it back into the old storage room he’d been working on turning into a study as he made his way down the stairs. His throat felt dry, likely due to not having drunk anything that he usually liked—or at least, not having drunk the normal versions of things he liked, he amended with a grimace. He was fine with having decaf coffee or tea with Sam—he needed to not drink caffeine because of the baby, after all—but that didn’t mean he was just going to quit drinking the things that he enjoyed the most all the time.

Stepping into the kitchen, he eyed the refrigerator, licking his lips eagerly at the thought of the cold brew coffee he had in there. He opened the fridge, rummaging around in it in search of the container, his eagerness turning to confusion when he couldn’t find it. He must have used the last of it and hadn’t realized. Though he grumbled, he settled on brewing himself some tea instead. It was a rich enough taste without having to go through the trouble of making coffee, he decided, getting the tea bags together and setting his kettle on the stove.

While his kettle boiled, he moved over to the dry erase board he had set up in his kitchen, intent on writing out a note for himself to buy more cold brew coffee when he spotted a note that wasn’t in his handwriting—‘Call me when you get a chance —Arie’ was scrawled in neat cursive.

Now was as good a time as any, Adam noted to himself as he pulled his phone out again and dialed her number. He pressed the receiver end of his phone to his ear, stealing a glance up the stairway to the doorway leading to Sam’s room. He looked back down and moved into the living room as he heard the call pick up.

“Adam?” Aranea said over the phone, her tone fairly urgent.

“Arie—just got your message.” Adam said, plopping unceremoniously into the overstuffed armchair that he had in the living room. “Something up?”

“How’s Sam doing?” She asked.

“Sleeping, for the moment,” Adam replied, craning his neck and straining his hearing to see if he could hear Sam moving around—or his kettle beginning to whistle. Since neither of those things was happening, he returned his focus to the conversation. “He’s…he’s not in the best way, but I don’t have to tell you that.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Aranea said, and he could imagine her pursing her lips in that way she did when she was displeased about something. “Has he…” there was a pause, and it seemed like she was choosing her words carefully. She must be worried—she was rarely one to think before she spoke when she was around friends. “How’s his neck doing?”

“It didn’t seem to bother him—at least, not physically,” Adam said, frowning. “I haven’t really looked at it since you bandaged it, though.”

“Just as well,” She said with a sigh. “Unless he was bleeding through it, there’s really no need to go changing it until, like, tomorrow.” There was another pause. “He hasn’t tried anything since, though? No stunts like the mark being torn off?”

Adam knew what she was trying to really ask—did Sam actively try to hurt himself? He couldn’t find it in him to blame her. From what they’d all been taught about the drop when Omegas break their bond and how adversely it affected them. It was the biggest reason that they had all been so worried about Sam from the moment that this had all started.

“He hasn’t tried hurting himself.” Adam said with a soft sigh. He heard Aranea let out a relieved breath, and he hesitated before adding, “That’s not to say that he hasn’t been acting…odd, but he hasn’t tried to harm himself. I don’t think that he will.”

“Odd?” Aranea spoke up, and Adam could practically hear her eyebrow quirking. “What do you mean by that, exactly?”

He paused in answering, unsure of whether or not he even had the right to disclose exactly what had happened. Sure, he was technically the, ‘injured party’ though he was hardly hurt by what Sam’s drop had pushed him to do, but that hardly meant that he had license to drag Sam for it.

“He’s suffering,” Adam finally said after a moment more of thinking it over. “And he was looking for something to make it hurt a little less—”

“Did he try to put the moves on you?” Aranea cut him off, and Adam had to bite back a curse at her observational skills.

“That’s…that’s putting it strongly, Arie.” Adam finally said, mulling over whether or not he was going to come clean about it. “He asked for me to help him forget. Don’t blame him for that, though.”

“I would never.” Aranea agreed. “We’ve heard the horror stories of what a drop does to an Omega. I’m just sorry that it came to this.” She let out a sigh. “Though honestly? We all kinda thought it would be you two in the end.”

“We’re not together.” Adam insisted. It was true, as much as he wanted it to be different, he was not going to use Sam’s emotional state as a way to manipulate him into a relationship. He loved him too much for that and cherished him too much as a friend to just twist his feelings that way. “I’m not gonna push for anything any time soon, either.”

“I mean, I would be disappointed if you did, honestly.” Aranea said, sighing. “Still, it’s not like you’ve kept how you feel a secret. And you know Sam loves you.”

“I know Sam loves me as a friend.” Adam insisted firmly. “I’m not going to assume anything that he doesn’t tell me himself—when he’s feeling like himself.”

“I know, hon.” Aranea said as she sighed again. “The game’s about to start. We’ll probably pop our heads in later in the week, when he’s feeling more up to some company.”

“Sounds like a plan. Take care, Arie.” Adam said, already standing as he heard the kettle beginning to whistle.

They said their goodbyes, and the call ended, leaving Adam to his own thoughts once more. As he stepped into the kitchen, he detoured from the stove to go to the dry erase board, wiping Aranea’s note to him away with his sleeve. He didn’t need it anymore, and Sam didn’t need to look at it and worry.

Turning the stove burner off and plucking a mug out from the cabinet, he pressed the release valve on the kettle to open its spout and pour himself a fresh cup. Tendrils of steam rose up, and he breathed in the earthy, rich scent of the tea, letting it fill his lungs and relax him as he exhaled. Leaning against the counter and bringing his mug to his lips, he blew gently on the surface of the tea to cool it, letting his mind wander.

He couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t hard to turn Sam’s advances down. Carrying him to bed and having his way with his lifelong friend had been something of a fantasy for him from the time puberty hit him, though it had never been like that, never been under the circumstances that they found themselves in. His dreams had always, even after Sam had bonded to Dustin, involved Sam leaving Dustin, recovered from his drop, coming to his doorstep and confessing his love for Adam, free of any emotional turmoil or factors that he couldn’t control. Adam would happily sweep his friend off his feet and carry him to bed like the prince that he was, and it would be lovely and perfect.

This…this wasn’t that, not by a long shot. Grief and emptiness had made Sam desperate for comfort, from anyone, and as much as it would have probably been easier for him to give into his passions and help Sam forget how much he was hurting, it would have only hurt them both in the long run, and he knew that. It was a large part of why he hadn’t slipped under the covers with Sam when he agreed to take a nap with him. In any other circumstance, they would have happily snuggled there, beneath the blankets, and Sam would have had to beat him with a pillow to stop him from stealing them all, but he knew that if he had tucked himself in with Sam, it would have just made things that much harder for Sam and for himself.

He had never really been able to deny Sam anything. From the time they were children, Sam had him wrapped around his finger. The Omega didn’t even know it, and that was why he had still stayed in the bed with him, even with everything that had transpired. Admittedly, while it was hard to not give into his fantasies, even just a little, it was still wonderful—and fulfilling a fantasy all its own, admittedly—to fall asleep beside Sam. It was one of the few things that Dustin had never been able to take away from him, even after the two of them had bonded: whenever Sam was with Adam, and they had even a little privacy, they cuddled like lovers, slept in the same bed like it was them that had the bond. Adam shook his head to clear himself of that particular thought.

He sipped thoughtfully at his tea, letting his thoughts meander, though he felt a spark of frustration when they always returned to Sam—though that was nothing new, truly. Still, he could hardly be blamed for fretting over the Omega that, he presumed, was still sound asleep upstairs; to say nothing of the drop, Sam had ended a long term relationship that had grown abusive, and there was no doubt much that Sam had to sort through emotionally.

More than anything, Adam was concerned with the fact that Dustin knew where Sam was; sure, Sam had ended things—rather definitively—but it had taken him ending it twice before Dustin had even grasped that it had ended to begin with. What Adam was most concerned about was that Dustin had all but chased Sam blindly here, and even if Dustin hadn’t managed to piece together that Sam was now living here, he could more than easily presume that Sam would likely be here often. He worried about Dustin trying something, of not being able to fully just let Sam go.

If it came to it, Adam would readily defend Sam—die for him, if that’s what it took; he’d felt that way even before he loved the man, as close as the two of them were as friends—and he’d do it with no regrets. What worried him the most was the idea that Sam would be endangered, that Dustin would try to harm Sam. There was precedent—he’d already tried harming him and their child because of his jealousy and possessiveness, and it was those exact traits that made Adam’s skin prickle with tension. It almost seemed like a foregone conclusion that Dustin would at least try something, but how far he would go remained uncertain. He made a mental note to discuss this with the group—see if they were worried about it, too.

Adam’s dark train of thought was cut off when he began to hear noises—footsteps coming down the stairs. He made a point to take a deep breath and drain the rest of his mug of tea, turning to pour another one in an effort to seem casual and relaxed for Sam. As he topped off his mug, he heard Sam shuffle in, and he could tell by the way he dragged his feet that he was still groggy and waking up. He turned around, making something of a show out of seeming to only just notice Sam coming down—no sense in making him feel watched, in addition to everything that he had going on emotionally.

“Morning, sleepyhead!” Adam said, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

“Evening, Adam.” Sam mumbled, barely parting his lips to form speech.

“You look like you’d rather be sleeping right now.” Adam confessed, trying not to chuckle at the bleary look in Sam’s eyes.

“I would rather be sleeping.” Sam grumbled, rummaging for a cup in the cabinet. “Just thirsty, is all.”

Adam nodded and opted to remain silent and drink his tea while Sam got some water from the faucet. Sam drank deeply, greedily, and seemingly forgetting to breathe in between gulps, as he suddenly gasped for air as he set his empty mug down on the counter.

“Better?” Adam asked as he finished up his tea. “I’d offer you tea, but this is caffeinated—wouldn’t be good for you right now.”

“That’s okay.” Sam said quietly as he waved a hand. “I think I’m good now. Still really tired, though.”

“There’s no shame in just sleeping the rest of the night, y’know.” Adam said with a shrug, hoping that he was hiding how worried he was. “Might do you some good. You still look exhausted, hon.”

There wasn’t an immediate answer, and Adam stole another glance over at Sam to see him contemplating his empty cup, sitting on the counter. Adam thought to say something—ask how he was holding up perhaps—but the words died on his tongue when Sam looked up at him, his face flushed and his expression timid, as if he were strangely shy about whatever it was that he wanted to say. That was new, Adam noted, taking another drink of his tea.

“Could you, ah…I mean,” Sam began, fumbling through his words as he fidgeted with his hands. “Would you mind staying with me? Until I fall back asleep, at least?” His voice sounded small, and Adam didn’t get the chance to even respond before he was already beginning to falter. “I don’t want to pressure you, though. It just feels nice, and I feel safe when you’re there. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to and,” Sam stammered before huffing an irritated sigh. “I’m…I’m contradicting myself, aren’t I?”

“Not exactly.” Adam breathed a laugh, setting his now empty mug on the counter and straightening. “You’re trying to say what you want without demanding it—polite, if a bit awkward.” He couldn’t help but grin at the blanched expression that took over Sam’s features. “But I don’t mind. I’m debating sleeping, too.”

It wasn’t a lie—his head had begun to pound. Though he knew that he’d eaten enough and managed to properly hydrate himself, at least a bit, he figured that his lingering tiredness was just the stress and the bursts of adrenaline in the earlier hours of the day. Sleeping for a considerable while more—hopefully through the night—was an incredibly appealing thought.

“Oh,” Sam’s whole body seemed to unwind itself from the tightened coil of tension he’d made it, and he smiled. “Yeah…yeah that’s…yeah, that’s what I was trying to do.” He bit his lip, holding his hand out shyly. “Coming?”

“You got it, boss man.” Adam said, gripping his hand and giving his friend a broad grin as he led him back up the stairs.

As they padded back into Sam’s room, Adam hesitated, and Sam took the opportunity to crawl into bed first, burrowing under the covers. Adam debated coming up with an excuse to sit in the armchair, or perhaps sleep atop the blankets again, but Sam made a sleepy, insistent noise as he tugged the blankets to the side to make an opening for him. So Adam gave a soft but content sigh as he slipped under the covers as well, pleased with the warmth of the blankets and Sam as he nudged the Omega over.

He could never really deny Sam anything, after all.