Trouty Mouth and the Leprechaun
Author's Notes:I am really happy with all the wonderful reviews. Please note that while I did do some minor research on laws and medical things, I have of course taken liberties with them to suit my story needs. A note, it is legal for a foreigner to press charges while on US soil and having had personal experiences working in a hospital for 6 years, it is entirely plausible that Rory is recovering the way he is. Things are looking up for our boys for now, but they deserve it after such a tragic week!
Recap: Azimio got arrested and Rory finally got sprung from jail, er the hospital, but only after he told his family that he and Sam are a couple, and they went along with it for the most part. Now he's back home, but his family wants him to stay in the US for a while longer, and so does Sam, and it looks like their prayers were answered because now Sam's family wants Rory to move in with them and that's what you missed on Glee!
-ooo-
Episode 11: A New Home
The three families as well as Sam and Rory spent the better part of Saturday moving Rory's things from Brittany's house to Sam's. Sam began to wonder if they had thought the situation through all the way, because the Evans' had no spare bedroom. Stacy and Stevie were too old to share a room anymore, so the only option was for Rory to room with Sam.
At first, Sam offered to sleep in the floor or on the couch, citing that Rory needed to be comfortable so he could get better. Mr. and Mrs. Evans, however, agreed that it was acceptable for them to sleep in the same bed, as long as they kept things PG and wore pajamas.
My god, it's like they want us sleeping together! Sam thought.
While the idea of living together was great, it also meant Sam would have to make room for Rory in his home. He needed to share closet space, a bathroom, electronics, everything. It wasn't a far stretch – after all, they had lived with all five of them in a small motel room for over a month just a year prior.
"Sam, honey, be sure to make room in the medicine cabinet. He needs a place to hide his drugs," his mother reminded him. He had some painkillers and vitamins and for some reason it amused her to constantly refer to him as 'having drugs' despite the fact they were perfectly legal.
"Yes, mom. I know," Sam said, only half annoyed. "And clear out space for toiletries and put an extra towel out, and I'm sure there was something else."
His mom popped into the bathroom door and grinned. "I'm sorry honey, I'm just excited."
He paused and turned around to face her, his own grin plastered on his face. "I know mom. I'm just nervous."
"What for? He's your boyfriend, what's to be nervous about?"
Sam gave his best "Aww shucks" impression. "I guess I just don't want him to be disappointed. It's different living together. He gets to see all my bad habits and stuff."
"That's how you know real love, dear. If you can stand each other on your worst days, and still say those three little words at the end of the day, then you know it's real. You can only fake it but so far. I think this will be healthy for you both."
"You think so? What about the kids? What are they gonna think? What are you gonna tell them?"
Sam's mom smiled wider than she had before, which seemed almost impossible since she was already grinning from ear to ear. "They adore Rory. They'll love him being here. They know you're friends, they won't think anything of him staying here."
"Mom, I think Stacy knows something is going on, though."
"Maybe she does, but you're her big brother. She adores you more than anyone in the world. You're the coolest person to exist, and she admires you in so many ways. If she knows, and she sees that her big brother isn't afraid to be himself, and isn't afraid to love who he wants, then she'll grow up to do the same thing, just to be like big bro," his mother said.
"What about Stevie?"
She chuckled. "Stevie will go along with whatever you want him to. He probably doesn't understand the concept of two men in love, but he knows you're friends, and that you're loyal to each other. That's all he really needs to understand. Do you even realize, Sam, how much your siblings look up to you?"
"Yeah mom, I do. That's why I worry. I don't want to disappoint them, either."
"Well I think as far as those two are concerned, Sammy can do no wrong. You know, for the most part, they're right. That's why we are okay with this arrangement. We feel you're mature enough to handle it. Maybe that maturity will rub off on them." She hugged her son and kissed him on the cheek before leaving the bathroom and going about her business.
-ooo-
Rory arrived around four with all of his belongings in tow, majority of which was clothing. The three fathers moved the bags inside, but it was up to the boys to unpack everything.
"We can just leave everything in the bags if you want to. I can just rummage through them when I need to," Rory offered, not wanting to impose on Sam's closet space.
"Oh bullcrap. You're my roommate now, you get your own closet space and drawer space," Sam argued. Rory was about to protest out of politeness, but Sam started unpacking anyway. He sat on the bed, unpacking his bag that had all of his personal belongings that weren't clothes related.
Sam took out a slew of hangars and started putting shirts and pants on them, stuffing them in the closet next to his own. When he turned around he saw that Rory was unpacking a game system.
"You never told me you have a Wii!" Sam exclaimed.
"I didn't think about it. I was always over here with you," Rory admitted. "Well, I have a Wii. The secret is out."
"Smartass," Sam said, poking him playfully in the side. He plopped down next to him and picked up his notebook of games. "Let's see what you got here…" He thumbed through the pages, making random noises of approval.
He set down the notebook and went back to unpacking. There still wasn't room for everything, so the rest he folded and placed in a neat stack at the bottom of the closet.
"I only have the one desk, but we have a tray table I can bring in here for you to use if you want," Sam said, putting the boy's laptop next to his own computer. A half hour later, they had everything put away, and Sam hooked up the Wii to his TV set.
They were about to play when his mom knocked on the door. "Boys, me and your father are going to pick up Stacy and Stevie. We'll be back around nine probably, depending on the traffic. It takes a couple hours each way."
"Okay, mom. We'll find something to eat," Sam replied. She looked like something was troubling her, however. "Mom, what's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing. It's just my little boy is growing up." She gave them a half-smile. "Ya'll are gonna stay in tonight, aren't you?"
Sam shrugged. "I guess so. Why?"
"I would just feel better knowing you were home safe. Until they catch those other two boys that were involved."
"Wait, what?" Sam cried. "They're out?"
Mrs. Evans waved her arms. "Oh no, Azimio Adams is still detained, but he won't tell who those other two boys were, so they haven't found them yet."
Rory looked nervous. She gave him a comforting smile. "Oh don't worry dear. They'd be smart not to fuck with the Evans and the Flanagans."
"MOM!" Sam exclaimed. "Don't talk like that!" Rory's eyes were wide, stunned by the unexpected expletive.
"You and your father aren't the only ones who know those words. I was your age once, too." She laughed and left the room giggling like a schoolgirl.
Rory turned to Sam and said with the most serious expression, "I will never look at your mammy the same way again."
"Neither will I," Sam chuckled, and then kissed Rory on the forehead.
"What are we going to do for dinner? We could have sandwiches if you want," Rory asked.
Sam looked indecisive. "Aren't you sick of sandwiches and chips or crisps or whatever you call them?"
"Kind of, but I don't want to be picky, either."
"Well I promised to make you some good food once you were out of that medical prison, and now that you're here, I think we need to celebrate your first night in your new home," Sam said. "You sit in here and play video games for a while, I'll come get you when dinner is ready."
"You're going to cook?"
"Yep. You liked my southern breakfast didn't you? Now I'll cook you a good old southern style dinner. Sit tight for a while. Want me to bring you something to drink for now?"
Rory nodded his head and requested a glass of cold fruit punch. At Sam's instruction, he sat back on the bed and started playing a game on Sam's Xbox. His other half, in the meantime, ventured into the kitchen where he started taking out various ingredients for his dinner plan.
About an hour later, Sam came to retrieve his new roommate. Refusing to use the walker, which he dubbed 'wheelie legs', Sam helped him limp to the dining room where he had set up a very cozy dinner layout.
Sam brought out a plateful of food for each of them – baked chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, corn, and green beans. He set down a glass of soda for Rory and fruit juice for himself, and then a bottle of wine.
"We're going to get drunk?" Rory asked skeptically.
"Ha! No, not at all. Not off a glass of wine. It was already open, so nobody will notice if some is gone. I just wanted to be corny and toast to you," Sam explained, pouring them each a small glass of wine.
As they held up their glasses, Sam made a cheesy little speech. "To your quick recovery, and welcome to your new home. And to life in prison for Azimio Adams." They clinked their glasses and took modest sips of the dark red liquid.
Both of them made screwed up faces. "Oh god, that's really disgusting," Sam said. Rory agreed, both of them laughing. The pair went on to eat their meal, the younger boy doting over how great it tasted in its simplicity.
"I'm gonna do the dishes real quick. Mom would have a fit if she came home to a mess. I'll be back to the room in a few minutes." Rory returned to playing his game, his tummy filled and happy.
"Thank you for dinner, Sammy. It was really good," Rory complimented. "You're a good cook. Did you learn from your mother?"
Sam nodded his head. "Yeah, and my dad. He actually taught her, come to think of it. What about you?"
"When it comes to cooking, I am as useless as a chocolate teapot. My mam does all the cooking in my house."
Sam put in a movie and they sat on the bed, cuddling until they heard the front door open, the two kids running inside excitedly. They didn't even knock on the door as they ran into the room.
"Mr. Rory! Mom said you're gonna live with us!" Stacy squealed. She jumped up on the bed and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him.
"Be careful, guys. He's still recovering from his accident," Sam cautioned.
"You were in an accident Mr. Rory?" Stacy asked, suddenly concerned, looking him over.
Not wanting to upset either sibling, Sam decided to simply put it off as an injury he got in gym. It wasn't really a lie – the incident did happen in the gym, and he had been playing basketball. They just didn't need to know he had been attacked by another student.
"Mom said you're gonna watch us after school," Stevie said. "You're gonna play outside with us, right?"
"Once I can, yes, I'll play with you. No basketball, though, okay?"
Stevie made a twirling motion with his finger. "I don't like basketball. I wanna play football and soccer."
"I think I can handle that. Did you know I played football back in Ireland?" Stevie suddenly seemed to find Rory twice as cool as before, not realizing that Irish football was the name for American soccer. At least he liked both.
Stacy started to gently poke and prod the boy, looking for signs of injury. "Where are you hurt, Mr. Rory? I'll make it all better."
"My shoulder, and my leg, and my nose. See?" He pulled his shirt down to shower her the scar. She opened her mouth in awe and then leaned over and kissed it.
"All better!" she exclaimed. "Your nose looks okay, though. A little purple, like make up." She leaned forward and kissed him on the tip of his nose, again proclaiming that he was 'all better.'
"You can't see where my leg is hurt. It's inside," he told her. She kissed her hand and planted it right on his leg, claiming that while she liked him, she wasn't kissing his leg. They shared a laugh and he thanked her for her magical kisses.
Sam hugged them both and sent them off to bed, promising to hear all about their vacation in the morning.
"She is the cutest thing I ever saw," Rory stated. "And it looks like your brother is finally starting to like me."
"They can be a couple of little monsters when they want to, though. You'll see once you start babysitting them."
The younger teen shrugged. "We'll have fun I'm sure. For now, I'm really tired. Can we go to sleep?"
Sam smiled at him. "Yeah. Let me grab your PJ pants for you." He got up off the bed, went to the dresser and fished out a pair of pants for each of them. "They never said we had to wear shirts," he grinned, anxious to see the boy's bare chest again. He turned out the light and crawled in next to him, kissing him before they fell asleep.
-ooo-
The next morning after breakfast, Mr. and Mrs. Evans went over the rules they expected the boys to abide by if they were going to be living together.
"First of all, neither one of you will be falling behind in school. We expect your grades to remain constant or better," Sam's dad declared.
"Actually dad, Rory has been helping me with my reading. We read a book together over break even," Sam pointed out.
"Good. Maybe you can get over that dyslexia someday. Your grandfather managed, and you'll probably need to help Stevie, I can see signs of it already. Back to school, I want you in bed by eleven on school nights," his dad added.
Sam inquired about his requirement to work, to which his father answered that he needed to get something as soon as possible. Part time, after school. Sam already had the pizza delivery job when they lived in Lima the first time, so that shouldn't be a problem.
"Rory, you're going to be babysitting after school. Help the kids with their homework, give them a snack, keep them from tearing up the house. I'll give you a run down on what they can and can't have and can't do. We may need help with some other chores at times too," Mrs. Evans explained to the younger teenager.
"What about weekends?" Sam asked next. "Do we get a reprieve?"
Sam's dad laughed. "Your freedom, son, depends on what your part time job dictates. Rory, we might need you to watch the kids now and then but mostly weekends are yours."
"If you need a ride somewhere and Sam isn't able to, just ask and we can try and work something out. I know there will be times you want to do something when he isn't here," Mrs. Evans offered.
"Thank you," Rory replied. "This sounds fair. I think we can heed your rules, don't you, Sam?"
Sam nodded. "Sure thing. Doesn't sound bad at all."
"One more thing, boys. You're teenagers. I'm not stupid, I was your age once, I know how it goes. I'm going to say there is to be no monkey business in this house, but if there ever was any monkey business, I just don't wanna know about it, catch my drift?" Mr. Evans said.
"Why would we be selling monkeys? Is that legal? Wouldn't you want the money from it?" Rory asked, completely serious.
Sam's dad was caught aback. It was obvious the boy wasn't talking back or being smart. "Uh, Sam, is he for real?"
Sam laughed. "Yeah dad, he's for real. Remember, our sayings are different than theirs. He never heard of dodge ball or trash talk before either. Basically you just told him we aren't allowed to have a monkey selling business in the house."
"Oh, I see," his dad replied. "Well, you take care of explaining that one to him later, son."
"Will do, dad. Anything else we should know?"
Mr. Evans shook his head. "No, I don't think so. Ya'll are good boys, it's not like we got much to worry about. You are going back to school on Monday I hope you know," he added, addressing Sam, who responded by groaning loudly.
"Am I going back, too, Mr. Evans?" Rory asked timidly.
"No, not yet. We're meeting with your parents again this afternoon to discuss this legal situation. Once we figure out if you'll need to miss school for it, we can figure out when you go back. In the meantime, Sam will have your assignments for you when he comes home."
"Don't worry honey, we don't expect you to watch the kids yet. You can just rest up and get better. Work on your schoolwork, spend time with your family while they're here," Sam's mom added.
Dismissing the boys from the table, Mr. Evans kissed his wife and bid her goodbye. He was going to go pick up the Flanagans from their hotel room; ironically, the same hotel they had lived in for far longer than they wanted to think about.
Sam snuck back in the kitchen while his charge was in the bathroom. "Hey mom, you know Rory's birthday is coming in mid-February, right?"
"Oh is it? Wonderful! I hope his family will still be here," she exclaimed. "We'll have a get together, you can invite all your glee club friends. Well good, something happy to think about amidst all this crap going on."
"I think I'm gonna go job hunting after school tomorrow. I want to get a little bit of cash so I can buy him something nice," Sam commented. "I doubt his family will still be here. All this mess should be cleared up soon, and they have to leave."
"I'm so proud of you," she replied. He cocked his head sideways, wondering why she was saying that. "You're the man I knew you'd be. A true gentleman. It is a shame though that they can't be here. The magical sixteen and they won't get to see it."
Sam smiled. "Thanks, mom." He gave her a hug and hotfooted it back to his room before Rory figured out he had snuck off. He wanted him to be totally surprised when his birthday came and he had a party in his honor. Now what the hell am I going to get him? I don't have a whole lot of money yet and it's only a few weeks away.
-ooo-
Mr. and Mrs. Flanagan were sitting on the couch as Sam helped Rory limp to the living room and sit down.
"Me son, where is the walking aid?" his father asked.
"I don't like it, pap. It's frustrating t'use," Rory complained.
"If it is what the doctor ordered, then ye' should use it," his father replied sternly. It wasn't a question. Rory's father didn't ask questions; he gave instructions. "Ye' understand me, son?"
Rory nodded. "Yes, sir." He's giving me orders in front of Sam. How humiliating.
Sam sat down next to him, offering to share his glass of fruit juice. Rory waved it away, anxious to know what his parents had to say.
"Now listen, me son. We 'ave gotten a court date set in regards to ye' accident. Because it's considered a foreign affair, the court gives it higher priority. This Wednesday is the hearing," Mr. Flanagan stated.
"Am I goin' to 'ave to be in the court?" the teen asked. It wasn't so much actually being in a hearing that worried him; it was having to see Azimio again. I could die happy if I never 'ave to see him again the rest of me life.
Mr. Evans answered that question. "Unfortunately, yes. I tried to impress on them the situation, but it's required for you to be there. You'll have to testify."
A look of horror crossed the boy's face. "Is… he goin' to be there too?"
"Yes," Mr. Flanagan answered flatly. "Ye' gonn' t' have to testify to what he did to ye'. They 'ave the evidence, but ye' have to tell them why he did it."
"You'll basically have to tell them everything you can remember. They need to know if it classifies as a hate crime, which carries a slightly harsher punishment," Mr. Evans took over. It's rules and regulations we're dealing with here. We have to play the game to win."
"It'll be okay. I'll be there with you," Sam assured him.
Mr. Evans shook his head. "No. No you won't son."
Sam stood up, angry. "Why not! I was there! What if Azimio tries something again! I have to be there!" he shouted.
"Calm down, honey," his mother urged. He slowly sat back down, more to appease her than anything else.
"They want a written account from you, and from Mr. Schuester. Since you weren't at the scene the time the crime was committed, they have no need for you to testify in the court. They simply want you to write an account of what you saw when you arrived," his dad explained.
"That's not fair!" Sam shouted again. His mother stood behind him and rubbed his back.
"I know it seems that way, but it's how it works. They don't want any more people there than necessary. They won't let your teacher be there either," she said softly.
Sam sighed, frustrated, and feeling powerless. "Well who is going to be there?"
"Me, his dad, and Mr. Pierce," his father answered.
"Why you? You weren't there. Why Mr. Pierce?"
"Calm down, Samuel," his father said sternly. "Mr. Pierce was his legal guardian when the incident took place, and I will be there as his current legal guardian. Mr. Flanagan will be there as his parent and true legal guardian."
Eyes were all on Sam, waiting for his reaction. His father was becoming agitated with his persistent attitude, and everyone expected Sam to further interrogate him.
"Furthermore, Sam, your presence could have a negative effect. We don't want to encourage Azimio to bring up the topic of your relationship. He very well may, but we don't want to give him any ideas, and if he sees you there, it might put an idea in his head," his father added.
"This is bullshit," Sam said coldly. Angry, he got up and went to his room, slamming the door behind him. Rory was awestruck. He had never seen Sam act like that.
Rory's dad couldn't keep quiet any longer. "D'ye let the boy talk to ye' like that all the time? With so much disrespect?"
Mr. Evans shook his head. "No. He never acts like that. He rarely even swears and we haven't had an argument in years."
"In me home, we treat that kind o' behavior with a sound beatin'. They learned early on not to mouth off t'me," Rory's dad said. Rory blushed heavily, remembering the last time he had gotten in trouble when he was eleven. He couldn't sit down comfortably for days.
"It's different, sir. It's so out of character for him, it worries me more than angers me."
Mr. Flanagan quietly huffed his disapproval.
"Does anyone else here something ringing?" Mrs. Evans asked, hoping to change the topic. "It sounds like a jingle bell."
Rory giggled and then summoned his brother. "Seamus, come in 'ere please!"
Seamus bounded into the room, Stacy and Stevie close behind. Stevie immediately clung to his mother, whispering to her, wanting to know what the ruckus had been about. She simply told him that Sam was upset but that was it.
"Show Mrs. Evans your necklace," Rory told his younger brother. The boy was only a few years younger than Rory but was obviously shy. As instructed, however, he approached Sam's mother and held up a shiny silver jingle bell on a lanyard.
"Oh, well isn't that… cute, Seamus. How very festive," she said, peering at the bell. The look on her face asked the question everyone else was wanting to ask.
"I want a bell too!" Stacy said. "It's so cute!"
Nervously, Mrs. Evans asked if he wore the bell everywhere, and if it were a gift. She was making sure to phrase her question so as not to offend anyone.
"Go ahead Seamus, tell 'er about ye' bell," Mrs. Flanagan said, giving him a comforting smile.
"Me mam and pap gave it t'me' ma'am. I wear it all o'er the place," he replied.
"Oh," she said simply.
Rory laughed and decided it best to explain. "Seamus has a bad habit o' getting' lost, especially when he was real little. He would rarely answer if we called for him, so dad gave him the bell to wear, so we would hear him. Kind o' like a cow."
"Stop that, Rory!" his mother exclaimed. "Ye' know he hates that sayin'."
Seamus cut him a look of disapproval but then turned back around and grinned at Mrs. Evans. "Well, it's a very lovely bell, and it's good to know you'll never get lost. You're such a sweet boy, I would hate to think you might misplace yourself."
"Thank ye' ma'am," Seamus said, blushing a little.
"Mommy please, can I have a bell too?" Stacy begged. "I want one just like his!"
"But honey, you never get lost, you don't need a bell," she responded, hoping her daughter would drop it.
Sensing his wife's urgency to change the subject yet again, Mr. Evans ushered the children to the backyard to play. "Stevie is so excited to have another boy to play with. Sam doesn't have as much time as he used to, so he has to play with his sister and Stacy isn't very sporty."
"D' ye' need me anymore?" Rory asked to the crowd in general.
"No, me son. Ye' can go check of ye' friend, Sam," his father answered. Rory got up, careful not to put weight on his leg, using the furniture and wall to steady himself. "And don't ye' forget that walking aide, m'boy! I better see ye' using it, tis not a suggestion, ye' hear me'?"
"Yes, sir," Rory called back, finally making it to Sam's room. He knocked on the door, despite it also being his bedroom now. "Sammy? Can I come in?"
Sam opened the door and helped him limp into the room. "It's your room too, you don't have to knock." His tone was lighter, but he was still obviously upset.
"Why are ye' so upset Sammy?" the boy asked.
"Heh, your accent slipped out again. Should I call you 'me boyfriend'?" he chuckled.
Rory shook his head. "No, ye' don't need to. Just bein' around me pap, his is so strong. Ye' should 'ear me at home. I bet ye' could 'ardly un'erstand me."
"Okay, now you're exaggerating," Sam replied with a half smile.
"Maybe just a little, but it got ye' to smile. Now quit dodgin' the question and tell me, what are ye' upset for?"
Sam sighed. "I want to be there," he said flatly.
"I know. But ye' can't. Ye' heard the rules, we can't change that." Sam slammed his fist into the comforter.
"It's not fair! I should be there, to keep you safe!" Sam raised his voice. "I.. I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell at you."
"Why do ye' need to keep me safe, Sammy? Azimio can't do anything in a court room. He can't hurt me. He's done all the damage to me he can."
"That isn't the point. I feel like I should be there," Sam argued. Rory put his hand on Sam's back.
"Sammy, ye' can't keep me safe from e'erything. Things happen that we can't control. Sometimes we 'ave to face things on our own. I 'ave to be brave. Ye' would want me to be brave, wouldn't ye'?"
He has a good point. I still don't like it. I don't want him to sit in that cold courtroom with a mean judge looking down at him, all judgmental because he's gay. Maybe it will be a woman. They are usually more sympathetic.
"Ye' lack of reply means ye' know I'm right. It means a lot that ye' want to go so badly. But I'll be fine," Rory assured him. "I love you, Sammy."
"I love you too. I guess that's why it bothers me, not being there." I'm gonna be such a mess all day. I won't concentrate, all I'll be doing is worrying all day long. My luck and I have a test that day or something.
Rory smiled, leaning his head on Sam's shoulder. He then started to sing, playfully, some of the song Kurt and rewritten for him back when they were discussing duets.
My Sam he is so magical
Hard abs, thick lips, so kissable
Hard to resist so touchable
Too good to, deny it
Ain't no big deal he is myyy ma-a-a-an
I kissed this boy, and I liked it
I kissed this boy, glad I tried it
It felt so right
It felt so good
I guess I'm in love tonight
I kissed this boy, and I liked it.
I liked it.
As he finished his verses, he tickled him on the belly, his soft fingers sending shivers through Sam's abdomen.
"You are too funny. That's cute, I like it," Sam complimented, chuckling.
"Is that a smile I see on ye' face?" Rory teased, tickling his sides. "C'mon, let me see that cute smile o' yer's. Let's see it trouty mouth," Rory continued. "Fishy face, trouty mouth, guppy gums, froggy lips."
"Stop that!" Sam scolded playfully. "I am not a fish or a frog!" he poked Rory in the side, making him giggle like a little girl. "There, a taste of your own medicine!"
Rory fell on his back and the pair kept tickling one another, the amusement causing him to ignore the slight pain in his shoulder muscles. He had been so lucky – the knife just barely missed a major artery.
"I'm goin' t'go fishin'! Goin' to catch me a trouty mouth!" Rory went on. Sam silenced him, however, as he hovered over him and leaned down for a kiss. What started as a simple peck on the lips quickly turned into passionate kissing, Rory reaching up to run his fingers through Sam's hair on the back of his head.
"I make fun o' ye'r mouth, but ye' have the sexiest lips I e'er saw," Rory said, stopping for air for only a moment. He pulled him back down for more kissing, his other hand rubbing Sam's side.
Finally tiring out and needing a break, Sam sat up on the side of the bed and pulled Rory up next to him. "Thank you, I needed that."
"So, ye' be okay when I'm at court, ye' hear? I'll be brave, just like ye' would."
-ooo-
Sam woke up from a nap around four, hearing something coming from the living room. It was people talking, but he couldn't understand a word of it. Curious, he cracked the door and listened, trying to figure out who was talking.
It was Rory and his father, speaking in their native language, and they were arguing about something. Well, as close to arguing as Rory's father would tolerate.
"Pap, ye' have t'understand, this wasn't something I planned. It just happened," Rory said calmly.
"Me son, ye' know this is against the Catholic teachin's. Ye' could be excommunicated if the wrong people found out," his father countered.
"I thought ye' were fine with this, like ye' said at the hospital. Why are ye' changing ye' mind now?" Rory asked next. Both of them were speaking rather fast, Sam only catching the words "pap" and "Catholic."
"I'm not the happiest about it, but there is nothin' I can do about it either. Ye' me son and I love ye', but this is still hard for me to comprehend. I'm concerned about ye' position in the church, and I just want t'understand ye'. I want t'understand me son, but I don't know how or the right questions t'ask." His father was visibly distraught, but Sam couldn't tell why.
"I'm sorry, pap. I don't know how to explain it all meself either. It just kind o' happened."
"Tell me, son, how, how do ye' suddenly want to be with a man? Ye' always showed an interest in girls before," his father asked.
Rory shrugged his shoulders, feeling defeated by his own confusion. "All I can tell ye' pap is that when I got here, I didn't 'ave too many friends. When I heard that Sam Evans had returned to the school, I saw a chance to make a friend. We started spending a lot o' time together, and at some point, emotions arose that neither one o' us understood."
Whoa, they're talking about me, Sam thought. What could they be saying? Damn why can't they speak in English?
"How d'ya know ye' don't like girls anymore? Ye' never been with one, 'ave you?" Mr. Flanagan asked.
"No, sir. I've ne'er even kissed a girl. I don't think… I don't think that girls aren't an option, it just so happens that I wanted someone who happened t'be a man. I don't think it's a choice who we fall for, it just happens," Rory tried to explain.
"Aye, I suppose that is fair. I love ye' mother, I didn' choose to feel that way about her, it just happened to me'. I guess I can accept that is the same with ye'."
Rory smiled at him. It wasn't often he and his father had deep conversations. It wasn't that he didn't care, it just wasn't common. Most of their conversations revolved around school and superficial things.
"Pap? Are you disappointed in me'?" Rory asked, his voice quiet and nervous. His father leaned forward and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Me son, I could ne'er be disappointed in ye'. Ye'r a great man, a brave man. Ye' came to America on ye'r own, all by ye'self. Ye' went to a strange place and made friends. Ye' were brave to leave home so young, to do something ye' wanted to do. Ye' were brave t'feel for someone and not be afraid o' who ye' are, no matter what anyone else thought. Ye' made choices and ye' handling the results. Only a real man coul' do that."
Rory wanted to cry he was so happy to hear his father say that. "Pap, that's exactly what Sam said."
Mr. Flanagan looked his son in the eyes, and asked the most important question he could think to ask. "Me son, answer me this. Do ye' love him? Sam, do ye' love him with all ye'r heart?"
Rory kept his eyes locked with his dad's, not even thinking about his response. It just came as natural as breathing. "Yes, pap. I love him. I love him very much. The way ye' love mam."
"Have ye' told him, me son? Have ye' said those words t'him?"
"Yes, pap. I said them to him, and he said them to me. And we both meant the words, pap."
Mr. Flanagan looked pleased. It was apparent that he was still torn, but he loved his son, and was going to do what he could to understand him and support his decision.
"As I said in the hospital, about the eyes o'the Lord, about how the church sees it, I just wanna make sure ye' un'erstand all that is about. I know it sounds like I'm goin' against what I said there, but I'm not. I agree with ye'r Sam. The Lord taught us to love, and we should honor love however it may come. As long as ye'r heart is right with the Lord, then I cannot go against the Lord and his guidance o' ye'r love. Ye' un'erstand, me son?"
"Yes, pap. I do. Me heart is right with the Lord. I prayed to un'erstand these feelings. I prayed for guidance like I know ye' would want me to. What I felt from the Lord was just as ye' said, and it made me feel better. It gave me courage to follow me feelings," Rory explained.
Sam finally decided to stop eavesdropping. The only other words he understood was 'Lord' and his own name.
A few minutes later, Rory returned to their room, his eyes watered up, but a smile on his face.
"I saw you were talking with your dad. What language were you speaking anyway? Irish?" Sam asked, not wanting to let on that he had been standing there for several minutes, listening in on something he couldn't even understand.
"Irish Gaelic. It's the language of me country. Me pap is better expression himself in Gaelic. Well, and he wanted to talk in private I guess," Rory answered. Suddenly Sam felt guilty for eavesdropping. It wasn't the conversation, it was the intimacy between father and son, a moment that he shouldn't have watched.
"So I guess you're not gonna tell me what you talked about, huh?"
Rory shook his head. "No, Sam. I wanna respect that he wanted it to be between us. But I will say that now we have a better understanding o' each other."
"Good, I'm glad. It must be tough, coming from a religious family like that. Once again, you're my brave man for facing your family. I'm proud of you," Sam said, hugging the teen.
"Now if only I could get him to stop bothering me about this walking aid," Rory chuckled.
Sam grinned. "You know, I do have a harder time understanding you now that your accent has gotten so heavy. I have to really listen hard. I can barely get your dad or mom, and Seamus, well, no hope there."
"It'll fade again once they leave for home. It won't be gone, but ye' will un'erstand me again."
"Good. I'd hate to think I missed something important."
"Well un'erstand this, Sam Evans. I love ye', with all me heart. I don't regret anything," Rory declared happily.
"I love you, too, Rory Flanagan. My brave, brave Irishman," Sam replied. He pushed Rory onto his back on the bed and crawled over top of him, kissing him intensely. They kissed for seemingly forever, but never did their hands travel. They were kisses of intimacy, not kisses of arousal or desire for physical pleasure. It was about feeling close, and loved.
They spent the rest of the afternoon laying next to each other in the bed, having quiet conversation about what was going to happen come the day of the court case. It made Sam feel a bit better knowing that Rory was going into it with confidence and a cool head. Now if only everything ran smoothly and Azimio got what he had coming to him.