By the time Sam opened his eyes again, he found himself blinking back the early morning rays of the sun. Alarmed, confused, and still half asleep, he fumbled for his phone, nearly letting out a startled yelp when he felt a warm body beside him before his mind caught up with him, and he remembered that it was Adam—just Adam. He bit back a snort at the thought—just Adam, as if he wasn’t someone that meant so much to him. Still, he managed to find his phone in his pocket and checked the time. He just barely stopped himself from groaning in frustration when he realized that it was only seven in the morning—he didn’t want his frustration to wake Adam up, still snoring gently beside him.

Just as well, Sam thought, letting his phone drop onto the mattress on the opposite side of Adam’s comatose form. It was early, and Adam wouldn’t have to get up for another hour or so, and Sam was content to simply lie there and glean what comfort he could out of the Alpha’s presence while he could. He still didn’t entirely feel like himself, he felt leagues better than he had the night before, though he wasn’t sure if that was just because he had slept, or because his drop was truly not going to be that bad. That he was already feeling less heartsick spoke to how far removed his feelings for Dustin had become, and while there was a special kind of bittersweet sadness involved with that thought, overall he couldn’t find it in him to regret it. The less pain he felt over someone who was so ready to hurt him, the better.

He hadn’t realized that Adam had woken up already until he saw the Alpha stretch from the corner of his eye, and he briefly debated feigning sleep just so that there was no awkwardness in the light of morning—though there was so rarely any to be had at all between them. Sam still felt the lingering guilt over how he had all but thrown himself at Adam in desperation, and he feared that Adam was leery of him because of it. Not that he would have blamed him for the reaction, it was just that he didn’t want to have to face it, as cowardly as that was. Adam saw him awake before he could decide on what to do, and Sam was relieved when he merely gave him a sleepy smile—the same one he had given Sam for years whenever they awoke next to one another.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Adam said again, his voice raspy from disuse and still thick with sleep.

“Well, now it’s morning.” Sam retorted, a bit annoyed that he was already as awake as he was. “So, good morning.”

“I’m making us breakfast.” Adam said around a wide yawn as he began to shuffle out of bed. “And I’m not hearing a no from you this time, mister. You need to eat.”

Sam had opened his mouth with the intent to deny it—he was a grown man that could make his own decisions, thanks very much—when his stomach growled loud enough that he was sure Adam heard it, if the way the Alpha’s brow arched was any indication—so he simply sighed and nodded his head as he followed Adam out of bed. Truth be told, breakfast didn’t sound bad at all—especially not if Adam was going to make omelettes like he had almost done yesterday.

Adam was cheerful as he led them into the kitchen to prepare for breakfast, whistling a tune as he rummaged through the fridge for ingredients.

“I’m thinking ham, cheese, and veggies for mine.” Adam commented idly as he peered from over the top of the open fridge door. “What sounds good to you?”

“Just cheese and veggies for mine.” Sam said after a moment of consideration.

“You got it!” Adam said, beaming as he resumed gathering what he needed and spread them all out on the counter.

Sam pulled a jug of orange juice from the refrigerator and poured each of them a glass before he took a seat at the kitchen table, letting the ambient sounds of Adam moving around the kitchen fill the silence, as it soothed him. He let out a happy hum as he began to smell the fresh peppers that Adam was cutting up for the omelet—green and red peppers, he realized. Before long, the scent of eggs and vegetables filled the air, and Sam breathed it in, his stomach gurgling in anticipation.

Adam was surprisingly quick cooking Sam’s omelette, sliding him a plate with a generously sized and colorful omelette.

“Thanks, Adam,” Sam said, breathing in the aroma of the omelette. “This looks amazing.”

“Don’t they always?” Adam said around a grin as he began to prepare his own breakfast.

Sam sighed happily as he took a drink of his orange juice while he waited for his food to cool. As tentative as this happiness was, he was content to merely sit there and wait to be able to enjoy his breakfast, with Adam bouncing happily around the kitchen as he sang some song that he didn’t know off key. It was normal—as close to normal as he could get with where he was at emotionally—and it was nice. This morning was…nice.

That was, until Sam smelled the ham cooking and was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of nausea that he couldn’t fight back. He bolted out of his chair, nearly knocking it over in the process. He thought he heard Adam make a noise of alarm, but he knew that he wouldn’t have the time to address the Alpha’s concern; his need for the bathroom was urgent, and he only just barely managed to make it to the toilet in time before he promptly began to heave.

Morning sickness, Sam realized belatedly. And he had just started feeling better, too.

Adam didn’t come in while he knelt in front of the toilet expelling what was in his stomach, and honestly, he was glad for that—it gave him a chance to rinse his mouth out to wash the lingering taste of sick when he was done. As he managed to pull himself up from clearing his mouth, he met his own gaze in the mirror—and instantly lowered his stare to the bandage on his neck. Looking at it made his stomach flip again, though he managed to calm himself from getting ill all over again by taking slow, deep breaths to collect himself.

When he stepped out of the bathroom after a few long moments of collecting himself, he was glad that Adam had taken great pains to cover the scent of the ham—there was a pine scented candle on the kitchen table when he returned on shaky legs, and the fan above the stove was working on high to dispel the scent. Sam returned to his seat, smiling apologetically at Adam, who was seated with his omelette in front of him.

“Sorry about that, hon.” Adam said sheepishly as he speared his food with his fork. “I didn’t think it would make you sick.”

“I kind of didn’t think about the possibility of morning sickness.” Sam let out a shaky laugh as he spoke. “I almost thought I’d dodged the bullet—silly me.” He gave a wry smile.

“Are you going to be able to eat?” Adam asked, his face scrunched in concern. “I could make you something else or put your food away until you’re hungry again.”

“I’m still hungry.” Sam reassured him with a sigh. “And even if I wasn’t, you’re right: I have to eat.”

Still, he ate in smaller bites than he had planned on eating, nibbling at the eggs a little at a time. The omelette was still fluffy and wonderful, and because he ate it slowly, it settled in his stomach gently, for which he was grateful. Still, there was far too much for him to finish, and Adam was gracious, sticking his leftovers in a container for later, before clearing their plates and heading to his room, doubtless to change for work.

His suspicions were confirmed when Adam stepped back down the stairs a few minutes later, clad in a black business suit and adjusting his silver tie as he checked his watch. It amazed Sam, how good Adam looked when he groomed himself into a professional visage, with his bangs slicked to the side and his stubble shaved clean. Adam always cut a striking figure, though in a suit, he looked stunning.

“I should be home around six or so.” Adam said, his tone conversational as he checked his pockets—likely to make sure he had his keys and things. “But if anything comes up at all, please call, all right?”

“I will.” Sam promised, his voice a squeak as he nodded.

“Promise, Sam?” Adam asked insistently, hesitating by the door. “I’m just…sorry, I’m just worried, is all.”

“I promise.” Sam yessed him.

“Okay,” Adam nodded, turning the doorknob with the intent to leave. He hesitated a moment just as he cracked the door open. “I could just take the day off. Just say the word, and I can—”

“Adam, no.” Sam shook his head. “I’m not gonna ask you to put your life on hold for me just so I can cry on your shoulder.” He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair. “And hell, I have to work today, anyway, so it’s not like I’ll be available to do what I like either.”

“If you’re sure.” Surprisingly, it was Adam that didn’t sound sure, but Sam nodded to encourage him to go to work, and suddenly the Alpha was gone, heading to his van.

The silence of the house closed in on Sam once more, but it wasn’t nearly as heavy as it had been before, and he didn’t feel quite so boxed in because of it. With a firm nod to himself—because it was just as he had told Adam, that life didn’t stop because he was going through a drop—and brought his orange juice up to his bedroom with him.

It was time for work, after all.

There was something comforting in the monotony of his job, of being able to mechanically work out his contracts and speak with his clients as he went about his day, and it was a nice distraction to what he was experiencing emotionally. He didn’t want to completely ignore what the breakup with Dustin was making him feel, just that he didn’t want to try and address it while his body was working through no longer having a mark—one step at a time, he told himself as he continued to work.

Eight hours of answering client questions, making corrections in designs, and sitting in conference calls later, and he clocked his time on his company timesheet, happy that his day was done and that he could take the rest of the day to relax. As he stretched his arms over his head, he spared a glance over at the clock—only just five in the evening at that point. But it was the dead of winter, and so it was already getting dark outside, he noted glumly as he glanced out the window.

It was strange, he thought to himself as he lightly touched the bandage on his neck. Strange how he had been so utterly emotionally devastated yesterday, and yet today he was merely…numb. That was the best way to describe how he was feeling, in so much as he simply wasn’t feeling. Was he already out of the worst of it? It shouldn’t have been surprising; he and Dustin’s relationship had been crumbling for a while now, and he knew that, in his heart. To say nothing of the…complicated feelings that he had for Adam. Feelings that he might as well unpack now, he decided as he stood from his desk and took his cup to the sink downstairs.

For however much his heart ached at the thought of Adam, there was one easy thing he could acknowledge: he was attracted to him. It wasn’t even something he had to question. Adam was a good looking man, kind, considerate, and had a long history with Sam that had forged a bond strong enough to make it through the worst of times. He was steadfast in his dedication to his friends, to Sam, and had always stuck his neck out for those he cared for. He had so many admirable qualities, so many of them that Sam had cherished and reveled in over the years that, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had taken for granted.

That was not to say that he took Adam for granted—he wasn’t physically capable—it was just that he had been so close to Adam for so long, that even when he was with Dustin and their relationship was at its best, he still couldn’t see his life without Adam in it, beside him, in some capacity. It didn’t matter whether he had tried to picture the family he would start, or where he would find himself in ten years, Adam was there, in his mind, right next to him—even when he couldn’t picture Dustin there, he could see Adam.

Looking at it from that angle, it was a marvel that he hadn’t realized what he had felt before—although admittedly, he was reluctant to call it love simply by virtue of how soon it was after his breakup and how tentative his feeling okay currently was, but he could still trace the start of his feelings, and knew that they were something that had almost always been there.

The question left was a simple one that posed no immediate answers: what was he to do about what he was feeling?

Sam gave a sigh and raked a hand over his face, feeling even more tired than he already had. As much as he didn’t want to simply toss himself onto his bed and nap until his problems went away, the allure of his bed was almost too much to ignore, though he perked up when he heard the front door open, alerting him that Adam had come home from work.

“Adam?” Sam called out, stepping into the hallway and peering over the railing of the stairs to see the Alpha stepping out of his dress shoes.

“Hey, Sammy,” Adam greeted with a grin. “Finished up work early, so I’m home.” He trotted up the stairs. “What d’you want for dinner? I was craving pizza.”

“Pizza…actually sounds really good.” Sam admitted quietly. “Though just cheese—or maybe cheese and veggies.”

“Right, no cooked meat smells.” Adam said as he slipped into his own bedroom to change. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in a movie mood. What do you think?”

“Pizza and movies?” Sam asked, a nostalgic smile tugging at his lips. “Sounds like us in high school.”

“And middle school!” Adam called out from behind his door.

“I’m down for that,” Sam agreed, nodding. “Want me to order the pizzas?”

“Sounds like a plan—just mushrooms and green peppers on mine, please!” Adam called out, though his voice sounded more distant than it had before—likely because he was in his closet rummaging for clothes.

Sam pulled up his phone and placed an online order for their pizzas—cheese for him and the requested mushroom and green pepper for Adam—and about that time Adam stepped out in some clean pajamas. Perhaps it was fresh awareness of his feelings—or at least, his final acknowledgement of the feelings that had always been there—but even in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, Adam looked marvelous, with every muscle on display for Sam to drink in. And he did—like a parched man in the desert drinking from an oasis.

“I’m thinking we could watch a bunch of really, really bad movies and make fun of them.” Adam suggested.

“I mean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “If we’re going to do that, we might as well just watch Mystery Science Theater Three Thousand because they’ll do it better than we will.”

“Ohh, hadn’t thought of that.” Adam conceded, tapping his chin. “Sure, I actually think I still have that box set stashed in my closet. Let me try and dig it up real quick.”

“If you don’t, I think I have almost all of the seasons saved on my computer.” Sam reassured him with a laugh. “I’m gonna get something to drink. Do you want anything?”

“Nah, I still have some tea in my thermos.” Adam reassured him. “I’ll go poke around, see if I can dig up the DVDs.”

Sam was fairly quick with pouring himself some juice, and by the time he had stepped into Adam’s room with his cup, Adam was stepping out of his closet, huffing in mild irritation.

“I take it you couldn’t find it?” Sam offered, smiling.

“Sadly, no.” Adam grumbled. “I’ll have to really poke around my storage later, see if it wound up somewhere else.”

“It doesn’t have to be now.” Sam shook his head, walking over to one of the tables on either side of the bed and setting his glass down. “Let me go and get my laptop. Do you have an HDMI cable?”

“Yep!” Adam said, popping the ‘p’ as he nodded.

Sam went and fetched his laptop from his desk, opening it as he walked back to Adam’s room. Adam handed him the needed cord, and Sam was quick to set up the laptop and a playlist of the movies they wanted to marathon. Adam had trotted off to grab dishes for their food and back down the stairs again to get the pizzas when they arrived not long after Sam had gotten their makeshift theater set up. Before long, they were sprawled out on Adam’s spacious bed, their pizza boxes open and their spirits merry.

“So,” Adam said as he pulled a slice of his pizza out of the box and carefully set it on his plate. “Ready for another movie marathon?” He asked, wagging his eyebrows dramatically.

“Aren’t I always?” Sam asked, giggling as he took a bite of his pizza.

“True, true,” Adam conceded, nodding his head as the opening credits of the first episode began to play.

As they tucked into their food and began to laugh along with the movie, Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly as he let himself enjoy the familiarity of this situation—nestled in a cocoon of comfort, with Adam’s warmth at his side, the Alpha’s scent lingering in the air, and them both munching on pizza as they looked forward to spending time together.

“Oh, hey, I remember Gamora,” Sam commented as he chewed on a mouthful of pizza.

“I remember hearing about it,” Adam noted. “But I don’t think I watched any of the solo movies—just the ones with Godzilla in them.”

“Honestly? You pretty much saw the Gamora ones, then.” Sam admitted, and they shared a laugh. “Oh, hey, did you know that the man that had to wear the suit for Gamora passed out from heat exhaustion on more than one occasion?”

“Really?” Adam said, blinking owlishly at him. “You’d think they’d fix that so he wouldn’t have to suffer.”

“One would think.” Sam said, clucking his tongue. “But this was decades ago. I don’t think there were a whole lot of actor protection regulations at that point.” He took another bite of his pizza, chewing for a moment before continuing, “There was one good thing about it, though—the stage hands helped modify the suit so that it was more breathable, and later on they actually figured out a way to put fans inside the suit.”

“Fans?” Adam asked, sounding surprised.

“The system has evolved into a more complex and effective cooling system, but it’s still nice to see that such constraints helped to create innovation.” Sam said, his smile growing soft. “It’s just…it’s just really nice that, that the actor’s peers all saw him suffering and worked as hard as they did to help him be safer while he worked.”

It was a silly thing to gush over, Sam knew. It was just a bit of film history that he happened to know because he loved the old black and white films that he grew up on, watching reruns of them as a kid. Yet, the anecdote was something that struck a chord with him, especially considering that he had only managed to get out of the situation that he was in because those that he had surrounded himself with—his friends, his chosen family—all looked at the situation that he was going through and all worked together to help keep him safe. The thought brought tears to his eyes, and he felt a spike of frustration because of it; it was only something that he even knew because he liked movie trivia, but here he was, crying about it like it was a Hallmark Christmas movie.

And yet, Adam seemed to pick up on it, reaching over with his free hand to help wipe away the tears that leaked from the corners of his eyes. Sam looked over at him, turning his face toward his, and knew that Adam had, at the very least, figured out that Sam was doing better. He wasn’t okay, not yet, but he was healing, and he was healing as well as he was because Adam was there—because he was always there for him. There were no more words shared between the two of them on the matter, but the moment was poignant enough that they both still seemed to understand.

While their banter quickly returned to lighthearted fun, and they enjoyed their food, their movie, and their company, Sam felt like they had shifted, where they were poised on the precipice of something more than what they were, though he found himself unsure of what any of it meant, only that he wanted to see where it led.