Sam wasn't over at John's house, which was odd, considering. John himself had admitted to the fact that the house simply was too big and laden with memories for him to stay there alone, but because he really had no other place to go but away, Sam came to visit him whenever he could. Sometimes the brunette would come bringing a sleeping bag and fresh bruises from his stepfather and John, of course, let him sleep over for however long he needed to. Sometimes Sam was stuck at home most of the day and John got spooked by all the emptiness and shadows and jogged over to Sam's house, letting himself in through the window in Sam's bedroom.
This, however, was one of those days. John didn't want to go over to his boyfriend's house – the last time he went over he was almost discovered by Sam's stepfather – but the house was too lonely for him to stay any longer without a major panic attack. Despite this, John stayed as long as possible and only when he started to detect signs of insanity did he jog down the path he'd forged behind his house leading right to Sam's window.
When the alien finally reached Sam's, he climbed the siding carefully and peered through the window, cursing at what he saw.
There was no one in the room. And John was losing his mind. He let himself in – Sam never locked his windows, luckily – and paced for a fraction of a second before flinging himself down on Sam's bed, burying his face in the pillows in an attempt to calm himself down.
That was exactly as Sam found him ten minutes later, with the added bonus of the blonde murmuring to himself, basically having a full-scale panic attack. When Sam walked up to him and tapped his boyfriend on the shoulder, John jumped half a mile and scrabbled up, the fear in his eyes only abating slightly when he saw who it was.
"Hey," Sam said softly, gathering John into his arms. "It's okay, you're safe, it's all okay." John didn't say anything but did whimper slightly as Sam smoothed his hair. The blonde folded himself into Sam's arms as tightly as possible, tucking his head under his boyfriend's chin. When that still wasn't close enough, John tipped his head up and demanded a kiss silently from Sam.
The brunette obliged cautiously, placing the barest pressure on John's lips. They kissed softly for a few minutes, John continually demanding more and more of Sam, trying to chase his demons away. Sam was carefully erasing painstakingly toed lines as this boy kissed him with such need that it was unthinkable to tell him no, until finally John was laying on his back over the pillows and sheets and blankets that smelled like Sam and Sam's shampoo and Sam's cologne. The real Sam was pressing himself close to the blonde who was slowly, very slowly, calming down and getting worked up in a very different way.
Sam was working to get John's shirt off his chest without removing himself from the blonde's chest when John arched his back and helped him reveal the tanned skin of his chest. Sam licked his lips and hesitated, the territory of John's chest completely uncharted. John smiled at his hesitance, but when Sam looked up at John's face, he boldly licked a stripe down John's neck and connected with a peaked nipple.
John huffed out a breath. Sam immediately looked up at him, a question in his eyes. John angled his head back into the pillows and pushed his hips out, wordlessly offering himself Sam. The brunette took the gesture as a sign he did something well, so he repeated the action carefully, lingering even longer over the bud on John's chest. An intricate tattoo decorated John's right pectoral muscle, depicting a small arch of flowers and swirls and names mimicking the shape of his collarbone just a few inches higher.
"When did you get this?" Sam asked. The tattoo fascinated him, despite not having seen John's chest ever, he almost thought that something that marked the skin so visibly would be able to be seen through the shirt as well.
"I just got it added to when Henri died," John said softly, "But I first got it when I was… Eleven. Or twelve."
Sam traced his finger, then his tongue over the words. Lorien. Henri. Mom and Dad. Mogs. There were the words that were most important to John close to his sternum and some of his fears closer to his arm. Tiny words that without looking closer looked just like large swirls. Sam searched for his name before realizing he didn't have to; in between every other word, and sometimes a few times over and over in a row was his name, Sam, in different handwritings, different colors. The whole design seemed dependent on his name written the way it was.
Sam gasped when he noticed this, and suddenly his whole view of John shifted onto its side. John closed his eyes and let Sam process his name etched into John's skin. When it finally hit home, Sam stuttered a gasp.
"You… did this all… for me?" Sam asked softly.
"Sam," John said just as softly, and it seemed that even Sam's name had changed to himself, "I love you. So much more than a tattoo can explain. I just… wanted to do something to show you."
"I love you too," Sam whispered. He placed another kiss to John's chest and hesitantly dug lube and condoms out of his bedside table drawer. John smiled a little at his boyfriend's preparedness, but the smile was soon wiped off his face thanks to a gasp as Sam lubed up his fingers and pushed one slowly inside John. The blonde's face twisted as Sam flexed his finger and pushed in another, slowly stretching and preparing John. When his boyfriend was panting and grinding down on top of the digits moving agonizingly slowly inside of him, Sam rolled a condom onto himself, slicked up his length with lube, and carefully pushed inside.
At John's grunt of pain, Sam kissed his boyfriend's brow and muttered "I love you" against the skin there. When Sam fit all of his cock inside John, another "I love you" was murmured into John's ear.
"More," John demanded in a heavy gasp, grinding into Sam. "Please."
As Sam pulled out and snapped back into his lover, he hissed out "I love you" again over John's head. The brunette punctuated each thrust with a breathed declaration, grabbing John's length to stroke in the same rhythm.
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you I love you IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou…" Sam repeated over and over, all in one shuddering breath. John started to breathe the words with him until he shook and his voice broke. Sam fell silent too, and in noiseless shouts and whispers they came together, John spilling over Sam's fist and Sam deep inside John.
Both boys shook as Sam pulled out of John and kissed his sweat-covered lips.
"Stay with me tonight," Sam whispered, fear suddenly in his eyes. "Please."
"I don't know…"
"Please."
John sighed as he pulled the smaller boy to him. "Of course," John said softly, kissing his lover again. "Always."
A/N: I just love writing about my poor broken babies. I give them so much crap and then they go get tattoos and surprise me.