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This part is a little small, but the next one is much longer.
Title: 40 Days and 40 Nights (6/9)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Rating: PG this chapter
Pairing: Steve (The Second Coming)/Sam (Reaper)
Summary: A crossover that I felt appropriate given the characters' circumstances. The whole fic is finished. Set after the Reaper season 1 finale. Sam encounters a mysterious stranger on the road.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
“Sam?”
Empty cartons of Thai food lied strewn on the coffee table, the saucy remains making the cardboard gooey. Sock lay on the couch, his deep baritone snore rattling through the room, accompanied by the softer drone of some random cowboy movie on TV.
“Yeah?”
Sam looked at Ben, who had been sneaking glances at him since this morning when he caught—interrupted-- walked in on-- Oh for God’s sake, entered the kitchen that morning. Afternoon. 12:45 counts as afternoon. Or thereabouts. He hadn’t been too attentive to the clock at the time, what with the distraction of Steve’s laugh and the hunger in his stomach and all that.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Steve was in the bathroom. He’d shut the door a few seconds ago, the perfect opportunity for Ben to spring on him.
“Sure.”
“Maybe we should go outside. For privacy, you know.”
Privacy. Oh, crap.
“Okay.”
With the damning certainty that the continuation of that nerve-wracking conversation at the forest awaited him at the other side of the door, Sam followed Ben to the stairwell, doing his best to stay calm and not flee in the opposite direction, because come on. This was Ben. With Sock things just got creepy way too fast for even the most patient psychologist to handle, but Ben was okay. It was fine. Perfectly fine. No problem. Why would there be a problem?
“Do you want to take Steve to your bed and screw him senseless?”
Ben didn’t say that. Sam only thought he did. In his mind. Like an evil Jedi mind whammy.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked, frowning. Sam hadn’t gone pale, had he?
“Yeah, great. Fine. What’s up?”
Ben opened his mouth, shut it, and crossed his arms , looking as if he were trying to hug himself without seeming to, and finally managed to not quite meet Sam’s eyes, the whole display making Sam more and more apprehensive, the time bomb ticking in his brain, each ominous tick of the second hand bringing him closer to some doom he couldn’t yet perceive.
“You know that conversation we had before the demons attacked us and Steve turned out to be the son of God?”
“Yeah.”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
“Well. I was just thinking, wondering, just a thought. Are you interested in him? I’m not being judgmental or anything,” he rushed to say, raising his hands in a conciliatory manner. “I just want to have it clear. As your friend. No pressure. Just want to air things out.”
Sam let out a nervous laugh, Ben’s own awkward uneasiness relaxing him a bit.
“I... uh... It’s weird but... yeah.”
“So you are interested in him?”
Sam nodded.
“Okay. Again, not being judgmental, but don’t you think he’s a little old for you?”
“He’s not that old.”
“He’s 40, Sam.”
Oh. Right. Steve had mentioned that.
“Well, that’s not that old. It’s not like he’s fifty.”
“That still makes him twice your age. Almost exactly.”
“I know. But I’m 21. Almost 22 by now. I passed the age of consent a while ago. It’s not like I’m jailbait or anything.”
“But it’s still a pretty huge age gap.”
“I know, I know. And I get that you’re trying to look out for me and I appreciate that. but it’s not like I planned this. It just happened. Besides, he’s probably thinking the same thing and won’t try anything. And I’m not even sure that he likes me back at all. Maybe he’s just being nice and trying to cheer me up since I’m damned, that’s all. Maybe it’s all platonic from his end.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Come on, Sam. He’s nice to Sock and me, but to you... He spent the whole time we were waiting for you last night staring at the door with the saddest look on his face. He looked like a little puppy dog. And after you came in and got drunk, he carried you to the car, holding your head up against his shoulder so you wouldn’t throw up all over your shoes. I practically had to drag him out your room when we got back. He was sitting on the bed looking at you. Not doing anything, but just... looking.”
“Really?”
Happy glee spread across Sam body. He’d noticed it himself, hadn’t he? Covert glances here and there, Steve’s kind smiles growing warmer as he turned towards him, Steve ducking his head while nibbling at the corner of his bottom lip in embarrassment whenever Sam caught one of his longing gazes. And they almost kissed. It hadn’t just been Sam yearning in that parking lot. Steve had leaned into him, too, he felt it, and this morning in the kitchen before Ben walked in, Sam thought he saw that same desire in his softening eyes, but he dismissed it as the hopeless delusion of an overwrought mind. But maybe it was true.
“You need to talk to him,” Ben said. “Get things out in the open. If this what you want, go for it. Though there is the other thing.”
“What other thing?” Sam asked, the grin that had jerked on his lips stuttering.
“The son of God. I don’t know. Though there are theories that Jesus was involved with Mary Magdalene, but wasn’t he supposed to be celibate?”
Oh. Oh! Did he just hear a cackle behind his ear? Oh, shit. Was that it? Was this how he destroyed the world, by seducing the pure son of God into his bed? But Steve was forty. Surely he’d had sex already. And he only found out a few days ago, so it’s not like he’d keep himself pure just because. But not with the Devil’s spawn. He wouldn’t-- Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! This was all the Devil’s Machiavellian plan to bring hell to earth, wasn’t it? Oh come on! Please don’t be that. Please!
next part
Title: 40 Days and 40 Nights (6/9)
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
Rating: PG this chapter
Pairing: Steve (The Second Coming)/Sam (Reaper)
Summary: A crossover that I felt appropriate given the characters' circumstances. The whole fic is finished. Set after the Reaper season 1 finale. Sam encounters a mysterious stranger on the road.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own words.
“Sam?”
Empty cartons of Thai food lied strewn on the coffee table, the saucy remains making the cardboard gooey. Sock lay on the couch, his deep baritone snore rattling through the room, accompanied by the softer drone of some random cowboy movie on TV.
“Yeah?”
Sam looked at Ben, who had been sneaking glances at him since this morning when he caught—interrupted-- walked in on-- Oh for God’s sake, entered the kitchen that morning. Afternoon. 12:45 counts as afternoon. Or thereabouts. He hadn’t been too attentive to the clock at the time, what with the distraction of Steve’s laugh and the hunger in his stomach and all that.
“Can I talk to you for a sec?”
Steve was in the bathroom. He’d shut the door a few seconds ago, the perfect opportunity for Ben to spring on him.
“Sure.”
“Maybe we should go outside. For privacy, you know.”
Privacy. Oh, crap.
“Okay.”
With the damning certainty that the continuation of that nerve-wracking conversation at the forest awaited him at the other side of the door, Sam followed Ben to the stairwell, doing his best to stay calm and not flee in the opposite direction, because come on. This was Ben. With Sock things just got creepy way too fast for even the most patient psychologist to handle, but Ben was okay. It was fine. Perfectly fine. No problem. Why would there be a problem?
“Do you want to take Steve to your bed and screw him senseless?”
Ben didn’t say that. Sam only thought he did. In his mind. Like an evil Jedi mind whammy.
“Are you okay?” Ben asked, frowning. Sam hadn’t gone pale, had he?
“Yeah, great. Fine. What’s up?”
Ben opened his mouth, shut it, and crossed his arms , looking as if he were trying to hug himself without seeming to, and finally managed to not quite meet Sam’s eyes, the whole display making Sam more and more apprehensive, the time bomb ticking in his brain, each ominous tick of the second hand bringing him closer to some doom he couldn’t yet perceive.
“You know that conversation we had before the demons attacked us and Steve turned out to be the son of God?”
“Yeah.”
Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.
“Well. I was just thinking, wondering, just a thought. Are you interested in him? I’m not being judgmental or anything,” he rushed to say, raising his hands in a conciliatory manner. “I just want to have it clear. As your friend. No pressure. Just want to air things out.”
Sam let out a nervous laugh, Ben’s own awkward uneasiness relaxing him a bit.
“I... uh... It’s weird but... yeah.”
“So you are interested in him?”
Sam nodded.
“Okay. Again, not being judgmental, but don’t you think he’s a little old for you?”
“He’s not that old.”
“He’s 40, Sam.”
Oh. Right. Steve had mentioned that.
“Well, that’s not that old. It’s not like he’s fifty.”
“That still makes him twice your age. Almost exactly.”
“I know. But I’m 21. Almost 22 by now. I passed the age of consent a while ago. It’s not like I’m jailbait or anything.”
“But it’s still a pretty huge age gap.”
“I know, I know. And I get that you’re trying to look out for me and I appreciate that. but it’s not like I planned this. It just happened. Besides, he’s probably thinking the same thing and won’t try anything. And I’m not even sure that he likes me back at all. Maybe he’s just being nice and trying to cheer me up since I’m damned, that’s all. Maybe it’s all platonic from his end.”
“I don’t think it is.”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Come on, Sam. He’s nice to Sock and me, but to you... He spent the whole time we were waiting for you last night staring at the door with the saddest look on his face. He looked like a little puppy dog. And after you came in and got drunk, he carried you to the car, holding your head up against his shoulder so you wouldn’t throw up all over your shoes. I practically had to drag him out your room when we got back. He was sitting on the bed looking at you. Not doing anything, but just... looking.”
“Really?”
Happy glee spread across Sam body. He’d noticed it himself, hadn’t he? Covert glances here and there, Steve’s kind smiles growing warmer as he turned towards him, Steve ducking his head while nibbling at the corner of his bottom lip in embarrassment whenever Sam caught one of his longing gazes. And they almost kissed. It hadn’t just been Sam yearning in that parking lot. Steve had leaned into him, too, he felt it, and this morning in the kitchen before Ben walked in, Sam thought he saw that same desire in his softening eyes, but he dismissed it as the hopeless delusion of an overwrought mind. But maybe it was true.
“You need to talk to him,” Ben said. “Get things out in the open. If this what you want, go for it. Though there is the other thing.”
“What other thing?” Sam asked, the grin that had jerked on his lips stuttering.
“The son of God. I don’t know. Though there are theories that Jesus was involved with Mary Magdalene, but wasn’t he supposed to be celibate?”
Oh. Oh! Did he just hear a cackle behind his ear? Oh, shit. Was that it? Was this how he destroyed the world, by seducing the pure son of God into his bed? But Steve was forty. Surely he’d had sex already. And he only found out a few days ago, so it’s not like he’d keep himself pure just because. But not with the Devil’s spawn. He wouldn’t-- Oh fuck, fuck, fuck! This was all the Devil’s Machiavellian plan to bring hell to earth, wasn’t it? Oh come on! Please don’t be that. Please!
next part
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*laughs* Yeah, that was totally what I was wondering too. Thank god Ben is there to bring these things up, 'cause Sam was never going to figure it out and Sock is just...well, also not going to figure it out. Anyway! Can't wait to read the rest.
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Ben, as always, must be the observant one who figures things out and Sam has been a little distracted of late.
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“He’s 40, Sam.”
Pshaw. That's not old. That's just experienced.
Oh. Oh! Did he just hear a cackle behind his ear? Oh, shit. Was that it? Was this how he destroyed the world, by seducing the pure son of God into his bed?
That's brilliant in a terrible sort of way. [laugh] Oh, Sam.
Great work as always.
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Isn't it? Really, if I were the Devil, that's what I would do.
Thank you!
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