A/N: Written under the influence of painkillers for authenticity!
Artie is staring at him again. Sam shifts uncomfortably because it's more like Artie is staring through him, mouth hanging open and eyes a little glazed over.
"My arm doesn't hurt anymore," Artie's voice indicates that he's more than a little sleepy, despite the fact that he woke up from a nap not even an hour ago.
"That's good." Pause. "Could you maybe please stare somewhere else?"
Artie keeps staring, but then motions for him to come closer.
"Well come here then. My legs don't work and even though my arm doesn't hurt, I can still hurt it," Artie says.
Sam crawls forward hesitantly as Artie keeps staring at him. When he's in arms' reach, Artie grabs him and pulls him so he's sitting in Artie's lap. Artie burrows his face into Sam's neck.
"I like looking at you and touching you. If I can't look at you, then I'll just have to touch you," Artie says, voice muffled.
He can't argue with that logic.
"Wanna lie down?" Sam asks.
Artie nods into his shoulder, so Sam lowers them down, shifting them so Artie is on top of him. Sam runs his fingers through Artie's hair. He smiles as Artie is positively purring under his touch.
"Love you Sam. You're the best boyfriend ever," Artie says some time later.
"I love you too." Sam knows it's pointless to argue with Artie's assessment, much as he might like to. So he just settles on saying, "I don't want anyone else but you."