Trouty Mouth and the Leprechaun

Author's Notes: This is the first chapter with my new beta team and they did an excellent job! This concludes the Ireland arc of this season, which I enjoyed writing because I loved getting to expand on the Flanagan family and their relationship, which is obviously dramatically different from the Evans family. I feel like this arc has been a good experience for Sam, because now he sees that not every family is like his own, and that if he wants to be part of it, he has to accept those differences; something I am sure any couple can relate to. Enjoy part three

Beta Credit: TVTime & Ragnarok45

Recap: Sam went to Ireland to visit Rory, and the two of them were having a lot of fun until Rory got in trouble. Sam didn't approve, and gave Rory's father a piece of his mind, which thankfully didn't backfire and actually seemed to do some good and that's what you missed on Glee!

Episode 28: Sammy Does Derry Part 3

"Sammy, calm down," Rory said softly. "I'm still coming back for me junior year." Sam felt a grin spread across his face without his consent, his worries melting away at that one simple sentence. Only Rory could read him so well. Mr. Flanagan gave them a curious look, to which Rory just grinned happily.

"I 'ave to admit, when I first learned of Rory's relationship, I wasn't thrilled with the idea. Like e'ery father, I wanted a beautiful girl for me son, but that seemed not to be what the Lord wanted for him. I still do not understand what the Lord wants for him when his teachings are so different, but the Lord's actions are not for me to question. Rory can give ye' the full story, but in short, I had a friend who was like ye', and he was murdered because of it. I worry for me son, that he would 'ave to overcome the same difficulties that me friend did."

"Mr. Flanagan, Rory's strong, you don't-"

The elder raised his hand as a request for silence. "I can't protect him from the world, no matter how hard I try. As ye' said ye'rself, he is a man. He has to lead his own life, protect himself."

Sam swallowed again, still nervous. What was this conversation getting to? If Rory was coming back in the fall, what was all this supposed to be about?

"Why do ye' look so nervous, Sam? Listen to… listen to ye'r… boyfriend. Calm down. Rory will be going back to America."

Sam closed his eyes a moment to gather himself. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and slowed his breathing. Some part of his mind told him that he was overreacting, but now that he was assured Rory would return, his heartbeat returned to normal "I 'ave to tell ye', both of ye', that Mammy and I, we made a decision," Mr. Flanagan started. Both boys' eyes were locked on him, waiting anxiously to hear this announcement. "I know that we told ye' in the beginning that ye' had to wait until graduation before we helped ye' start ye'r life in America. Rory, me son, we 'ave decided that if ye' choose to stay in America for good, we will do whatever it takes to make it happen for ye'."

Rory gaped. His father hadn't mentioned this in the entire time they had been talking. In fact, it seemed like he had purposely avoided asking questions about having a future in America.

"Pap I- I don't know what to say to that," Rory stammered. "I… I'm only sixteen! I can't make a choice like that! To stay with Sam and give up me family, or stay with me family and give up Sam? That's insane!"

His father smiled, easing the look of panic on Rory's face. "Relax, me son. What I mean is, we will help ye' all we can. Ye' aren't giving up ye'r family. Even if ye'r halfway around the world, we're still here. There're visits. Vacations," he explained. "I'm not asking ye' to make a decision now. But I want ye' to know that if ye' wanted to make America ye'r new home, the option is there. Ye' don't 'ave to wait. Ye' decide when ye' are ready. Before graduation or after. Anytime. Ye' always 'ave a home here. Whatever ye' want—whatever ye' need—to be happy, we can make it work."

Rory was trembling. It all seemed surreal. In the past couple of hours, his pap had broken a family tradition, confessed himself, made amends, and now he was giving him the option to come and go as he pleased. He started to hyperventilate, emotions overtaking him.

"Lay him back, Sam. He's overwhelmed," Mr. Flanagan instructed. He sat on the opposite side of the boy and pushed his hair from his sweaty forehead. It had gone from Sam's worry about Rory returning or not to Rory being overwhelmed by good news in a matter of minutes. "Don't think about it too much, me son. Just relax. Nothing is urgent. Nothing need be decided anytime soon."

"I think he needs some rest. I think it's just so much for him to process at once. Yu have to admit, Mr. Flanagan, you've dropped a few bombshells on him tonight," Sam said with a chuckle.

"Sam, tuck him into bed. He needs to get some sleep. I'm sure ye' boys 'ave something fun planned for tomorrow," Rory's father said, smiling down at his almost-fainting son.

As Mr. Flanagan turned to leave, Rory spoke up. "Pap? Thank ye'." His father simply smiled – a smile that was actually filled with affection. He shut the door and let Sam take care of the rest.

After Sam helped the Irish boy into his pajamas, he kissed Rory goodnight and turned off the light. Seamus was standing anxiously in the hall, most likely eavesdropping. Sam ruffled his hair and cautioned him not to wake the now sleeping brother.

Sam padded downstairs where he found Mr. Flanagan sitting on the sofa, reading the news on his laptop. He looked up when Sam walked in, giving him a nod.

"Mr. Flanagan, I just want to say… I want to say I'm proud of you," Sam told him. "I know it took a lot of courage to talk to him. I don't need to know what went on before I came in there, but it makes me very happy."

Mr. Flanagan looked at him curiously. "I never thought I would see the day when a young man would give me praise in this way. I 'ave to thank ye' Sam, for giving me so much to think about. Ye' will be a great father someday, maybe even with me own son."

"I think that's pretty far off in the future, Mr. Flanagan," Sam laughed. "But thank you. Anyway, I'm going to hit the hay, but I really am proud of you, sir. I know Rory is, too."

As Sam turned to leave and was setting foot on the stairs, Mr. Flanagan had one last thing to say. "Sam, ye'r part of me family now. Remember that." The man's eyes were glistening with happiness in the fact that not only had his son chosen a very good man, but that he himself was able to accept that man as part of his own family, and without hesitation.

Sam grinned at the older man. "Yes, sir," he replied before ascending the stairs to Seamus' room for some rest of his own.

-ooo-

Sam woke up abruptly, finding his mouth covered by a soft hand and a whisper in his ear.

"Shh, it's me, Sammy. Be quiet," Rory said softly, his body hovering over his boyfriend As Sam's brain recognized the Irish accent hissing into his ear, his body relaxed, but his brain began to race with fear.

"What are you doing?" Sam whispered back, his tone louder than the younger teen appreciated. "If your dad catches you in here-"

Rory placed his hand over Sam's mouth again. "Don't ye' worry about me pap. It's three AM, mam and pap are asleep something solid." Before Sam could protest further, he felt his shirt being lifted up to his armpits, and then his shorts being yanked toward his knees. It was then that he could feel Rory's bare skin – the teen wasn't wearing any shorts at all.

Sam started to say something, but Rory leaned down and silenced him with a kiss. He ground his hips so their erections were rubbing against each other, Rory already making drops of precum. He continued to kiss Sam, sucking on his boyfriend's bottom lip and letting his hands roam all over the muscular chest that he had been dying to touch for so long.

"Are you crazy? We can't so this," Sam whispered, forcibly wrenching himself from the soft lips of the young Irish lad. "If we get caught, all hell-"

Rory put his hand over Sam's mouth yet again, silencing the other boy's protests. "I said shh. It'll be fine. Ye' know we need this. I've been wanting ye' so bad. Just to cuddle with ye', and kiss ye', and definitely this," he whispered very quietly into his ear. "I 'ave to make up for lost time, now. Be quiet and let me 'ave me way with ye'."

"You're so forceful tonight," Sam mumbled under Rory's hand. It sounded more like "Er so orfful to ight."

"I 'aven't even touched meself in o'er a week. I'm craving ye', Sammy," Rory quietly growled into his ear. It was really turning Sam on, even though it was way out of character for his normally mellow and shy boyfriend.

"I'm craving you too. You don't know how much," Sam replied, Rory having finally uncovered his mouth.

Rory leaned down again and whispered in his ear. "Tell me about the last time ye' touched ye'rself, Sam. Did ye' think about me?"

"Last week, before I left for here. I knew – well, I thought we wouldn't get to… being so close to you, I knew I couldn't handle it," Sam replied. "I kept thinking about you. How much I wanted to just.."

"Come on, Sam. What did ye' want to do to me?" Rory demanded.

"I wanted to bend you over and ravage you," Sam admitted. This was a new level in their dirty talk: conversation they would both be blushing about like crazy if they recalled it outside of hormonal cravings.

Rory was grinding harder, driving Sam crazy. He wanted to cry out, to moan, but he knew that was not an option. They had to focus on being quiet.

Sam pushed his hands up Rory's shirt, massaging his chest, tweaking his nipples between his fingertips. Rory bit his lip, keeping his sounds inside. With each tweak, he ground harder, the pressure unbearable. If he didn't stop, they would reach the point of no return and it would be over.

Rory stopped moving his hips and kissed Sam again, hands exploring each other's chests and backs. Finally, Rory scooted up higher so that Sam's throbbing erection was behind him, nestled between his damaged cheeks.

Rory reached down on the floor a moment and picked up something. He was a clever boy, having smuggled a small bottle of KY jelly in the pocket of his PJ pants. Sam felt the cool gel coating his dick, could feel Rory's smooth hand as he stroked him.

Sam wanted his boyfriend so badly right then, having gone crazy barely being able to touch him all week. Now, feeling his slick erection sliding between his smooth cheeks, it was becoming almost overwhelming. What he really wanted was to…

"Oh my god!" Sam exclaimed, covering his own mouth as he sucked in air through his teeth. He could feel the tightness of the ring of muscle popping over his dick as Rory hovered above him, slowly sliding himself down the thick shaft, whimpering at the discomfort that always preceded intense pleasure. It was apparent that Rory was going to ride him.

The teen was wiggling his hips slightly, easing Sam inside of him inch by inch. The pleasure was almost agonizing. Sam throbbed more as he felt each clench of Rory's tender hole around him as the teen started to move up a little, and then sit back down.

Rory leaned down to kiss Sam, still moving his hips up and down slowly. Sam put his hands around his hips. Normally he would have squeezed Rory's bubble butt as he rode him, but this time he purposely avoided that. Apparently Rory wasn't worried about it, however, as he took Sam's hands and placed them on the warm globes and urged him to squeeze.

The Irishman winced at the sudden pain, but at the same time it drove him wild. Even though it hurt, the added sensations sent some sort of extra tingle through his groin. Sam started to ease up when he noticed the look of pain on the boy's face.

"Don't stop. Keep doing it," Rory demanded, softly but insistently. He was steadily riding him now, increasing his speed every few thrusts. Sam was bucking his own hips, trying to get himself even deeper inside.

Sam licked his lips. He felt like he was getting very close to the edge. No, he knew he was getting close to the edge and was likely to go off anytime. He reached between his boyfriend's legs and started to pump him, speeding up very quickly.

"Oh me god, Sam, ye' feel so good. Please don't stop," the teen hissed into Sam's ear. He started chewing his top lip, feeling his orgasm coming closer and closer.

They came at the exact same time. A week's worth of seed shot from Rory's dick onto Sam's chest, some of it landing on his lips and chin. Somehow, by the grace of the orgasmic deities, the splatter completely missed his shirt.

As Rory's channel tensed up, Sam emptied his balls into Rory's insides, the younger teen feeling the added warmth that he loved so much. It felt like something was coming alive in him, igniting a fire deep inside of him. Every time they did this, it felt like Sam was giving up a part of himself, a part of his soul. It sounded hokey, but the warmth felt like that bit of Sam merging inside of him.

Worn out and aching, Rory eased himself off of Sam's softening member and, still straddling him, collapsed right on his chest. Sam was licking Rory's seed off of his lips when the teen leaned down to kiss him.

"That was amazing," Sam whispered. "We were quiet, right? I kind of lost track."

Rory giggled. "Yeah. We were quiet. I think we both needed that," he replied, breathing heavily.

"I wish you didn't have to go back to your room. I wish you could stay here and wake up with me," Sam lamented.

Sam's little Irishman smiled. "When I come back to America, we can wake up with each other every day." He nuzzled his head on Sam's shoulder, making sure he wasn't nuzzling in cum. "I wish we had our own place. An apartment, or even a shack, just as long as it was our own. A place for ye' and me."

"Don't put ideas in my head," Sam said, a mischievous grin on his face. If only they could afford an apartment. A place just for the two of them, so they could play house like little kids. Sam could slave away all day at work, then come home and calling out 'Hi honey, I'm home!' and then Rory would have dinner ready and they'd eat, then watch TV or play some games together, then have mad passionate lovemaking before bed. The idea seemed like heaven to him. That was his new goal: to do whatever it would take to make it happen. He wanted a home with Rory, and someday a family.

"Sammy?" Rory whispered, snapping Sam out of his daze. "I better get back to me room before Seamus wakes up to use the bathroom or something." He sat up and crawled out of the bed, pulling up his PJ pants in the process.

"Good night, Sammy. I love ye'." He kissed the blonde on the forehead, then trotted off to the bathroom to clean up, shutting the bedroom door behind him. Sam started to fall back asleep when he realized his chest was still smeared with sticky cum. Sighing, he grabbed an extra pair of boxers and wiped himself clean, stuffing them away in his luggage. He pulled his shirt back down and went to sleep, dreaming about a little house on a prairie, he and Rory both wearing baggy pants and suspenders, cowboy hats, and clunky boots, just like they stepped right out of the good ol' days.

-ooo-

It was all Sam and Rory could do to hold back mischievous looks at the breakfast table. They were like little kids who did something naughty and they relished the fact they hadn't gotten caught.

"So what do ye' boyos 'ave in mind for Sam's last day?" Mrs. Flanagan inquired.

"Whatever Sammy wants to do," Rory answered, putting all the responsibility on him.

Sam paused from eating his potato cakes. "I'd kind of like to do some shopping. I want to take something back to mom, dad, Stacy, and Stevie. They'd have a fit if I came all the way to Ireland and didn't bring them something."

Mrs. Flanagan smiled. "That sounds like a lovely plan. I can give ye' a ride to the mall if ye' like."

"Thanks, Mam, but I think we'll take the bus. We might try a few other stores too, that have more unique things for him to take back," Rory replied. "Promise to be home by six though."

"Can ye' make it five thirty, boyo? That will give ye' time to get ready for dinner. We're goin' out tonight for Sam's last day," Mr. Flanagan announced. The man seemed to transform over the past twenty four hours. He went from rigid to relaxed, almost as if some sort of weight had been lifted off of his shoulders; the weight of raising his oldest boy, who had finally become a man of his own.

Sam blushed a little. "We don't have to do that, it's no big deal."

"Quiet, boy!" Mr. Flanagan barked, smiling. "We 'ave to send ye' off right. Can't send ye' home until ye' full o' Irish… what is it ye' kids say these days? Noms?"

The entire table burst into laughter. Not only was his 'outburst' worthy of a chuckle, but his use of the word 'noms' was enough to make them go into convulsions.

"Okay, okay! Five thirty it is then, right Ror?" Sam replied, trying to compose himself.

After breakfast, they caught the bus to the mall. There was a string of genuine Irish shops nearby that sold handmade crafts, among other things. Sam picked out a colorful band with Celtic lettering that spelled "STACY" and a more masculine wristband that had Celtic writing spelling "STEVEN". The kids would be tickled that they had something with foreign lettering on it, especially something they could wear to school in the fall. For his mother, he got a beautiful throw blanket with stylized Irish designs on it. She wouldn't have much need for it until winter, but she would love it all the same. Mrs. Evans had a liking for embroidery and other clothwork. It was slightly more difficult to pick something out for his father. Finally he settled on an old-style handmade Irish mug he could use for his coffee in the mornings.

Pleased with his purchases, Sam treated Rory to a quick lunch in the food court. "I kind of wanted to take you on a real date while I was here, but your dad beat me to it," he said.

Rory smiled, Sam grinning back at him. "Next time. And there will be a next time, right Sammy?"

"Yeah. Definitely. And you know your family is welcome in America any time they want," Sam replied. "I'm sure they'd enjoy a trip that was actually fun, you know, when their son isn't on the verge of death."

Both boys chuckled. Despite how traumatic the experience had been, Rory had come to terms with the incident and did his best to keep it in the past. He still had the occasional nightmare, but he was no longer stricken with cold sweats and shakes when he awoke from them.

When they left the mall, they just walked around for a while. There was a park not far from the mall, so they decided to visit that. It seemed like no matter where they were, a park was never far; even if it was the size of a house, or a stadium, there was always an area with fresh green grass, trees, and benches.

"Sam, I know I didn't make it very easy on ye' this year," Rory said softly as they walked, wishing they could hold hands as they did in Lima.

"What do you mean?"

"The accident. The drinking. The freaking out over stuff, scaring ye' at nationals. Gosh, that was a lot of stuff we went through, wasn't it?" the teen recalled. "I know it wasn't easy at all."

"Well, no. But we got through it, didn't we? It's not like it was your fault, either. Well, the drinking sort of was, but that was different. You can't blame yourself for being drugged. But the rest of it, it's not like you asked to be beaten and stabbed. You didn't ask for nightmares and freak outs, and nationals was all my fault. Don't you dare try to take any blame for that," Sam replied. "It kinda feels like it was all a book written by some sadistic bastard with a hard-on for tragedy."

Both of them laughed at Sam's analogy – it was far too accurate. Regaining his composure, Rory's voice became sincere. "It still wasn't all that fair to ye'. But thank ye', Sam. For sticking by me through all that. Staying by me side through thick and thin. I just wanted to make sure ye' knew how much that means." They stopped walking and just looked at each other.

"I would never have done it if you weren't worth every second of it. You put up with a lot too, you know. I can be a little moody sometimes," Sam admitted sheepishly.

Rory giggled. "Every couple had to 'ave at least one good fight, right? We got it out of the way early."

Sam cracked a smile. "Yeah, we did. We'll handle anything thrown at us, some way or other."

"I don't know about ye', but I'm gonna try and make this next year go smoother than last. No near death experiences, no mental breakdowns, no drunken escapades. Just a peaceful life with me perfect boyfriend," Rory said, closing the distance between them and nuzzling his head against Sam's neck.

"You must have a second boyfriend then, because I am far from perfect," Sam joked. Rory looked at him and rolled his eyes.

"Shut up, Sammy. Don't be a dork," Rory laughed, checking the time on his phone. "Hey, we better work on getting home."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, we better. I kind of got the idea your dad wanted us to look halfway decent tonight."

They left the park and returned to the bus station. They arrived back home a little before they were expected. Seamus was just getting out of the shower, leaving just enough hot water for his two brothers. Seamus was notorious for taking long showers and using up all the hot water.

At six they were ready to leave. They didn't dress up like they did for church, but everyone still looked nice, Sam and Rory in polo shirts and slacks.

The family drove about fifteen minutes away to a restaurant that looked even more expensive than the one they had gone to on Sunday after mass. It was incredibly modern, with lots of tall windows, high ceilings, and black leather upholstery.

Mr. Flanagan declared that dinner was on him tonight, and as a result, Rory refused to convert prices to American money. Sam made a mental note to check the price of his meal and convert it later, just out of curiosity.

Mr. Flanagan ordered wine for everyone but Seamus, who got sparkling grape juice instead. He raised a toast to Sam's visit, reiterating that he was officially considered part of the family, and wishing him a safe trip back to Lima.

The food portions were sinfully large, most likely to match whatever absurd prices that had to be on the menu. When offered dessert, Sam kindly turned it away, but Rory insisted. They shared the dessert, for the first time feeling comfortable showing any form of closeness in front of Rory's father. The man just smiled and for the first time since their heart-to-heart conversation, gave them an approving look.

The emotions started flowing after dinner. Seamus and Mrs. Flanagan would still be asleep when Sam had to leave for the airport, so he said his goodbyes to them before bed. Seamus was disappointed he hadn't finished his model before Sam left, but he promised to send pictures. He gave Sam a big hug.

"Ye'r like me bigger big brother, Sam. Ye'r gonna visit again soon, right?" Seamus asked, a look of sadness crossing his face; however, it was unable to hide the hopeful glint in his eye.

"Yeah, we'll see each other again soon. Do me a favor, though: take care of Rory while he's here. Make sure he stays out of trouble," Sam instructed the boy. He tucked the boy into his own bed for the night, giving him another hug and promising again to come back.

Mrs. Flanagan was slightly more emotional, as moms tend to be. She liked Sam. He was polite and helpful and nice, and he made Rory happy; to her, he was a gift. She hugged him tight and kissed him on the cheek.

"Sam, ye've been such a pleasure to 'ave here. I hope it's not too long before we see ye' again. Ye' always 'ave a home here in Ireland," she said tearfully.

Mr. Flanagan allowed both boys to sleep in Rory's room for the night so they wouldn't wake Seamus in the morning on the condition that one of them sleep on the floor. They agreed, but instead of sleeping on the floor, Sam laid out a pillow and blanket so it looked like he had been sleeping there, when in reality he just slept on top of the sheets in Rory's bed. It was the only time they would be able to wake up next to each other until summer was over.

-ooo-

Sam, Rory, and Mr. Flanagan woke up at five in the morning, giving them just enough time to load Sam's bags in the SUV, shower, eat a small snack for breakfast, and then head out. They were somber on the ride there, Rory and Sam obviously sad that their time together was over until the semester started in September. The good news was that Rory would actually be returning to America a week before school began.

After helping him check his bags, it was time to say goodbye. Mr. Flanagan held out his hand, but Sam embraced him in a hug instead. "In my family, we hug. Get used to it," Sam said, smiling. He and Mr. Flanagan had come to a mutual understanding of respect: something they needn't say out loud, but that they just knew.

Rory was already tearing up. He had promised he wouldn't cry, but he broke that one quick. "I love ye' so much, Sammy," he sobbed, wrapping his arms around him one last time.

"I love you too. I had so much fun. I'm glad I came." Sam said, not wanting to let go. If it were up to him, he would just take Rory with him, still latched on like an extra appendage. "I'll text you during the layover, and when I get home, okay? Don't worry about me, I'll make it back just fine," he assured the teenager.

Squeezing his eyes shut to clear the tears, Rory kissed Sam on the cheek and then watched him as he got in line for the TSA check. He felt his father's hand on his shoulder, comforting him.

"Come on, me son. Let's go home, and ye' can get some sleep. When ye' wake up, he will be halfway home already. If ye' sleep real good, he'll be all the way in Ohio," the man said.

Rory turned and hugged his father, stifling his sobs. His father said nothing, but just patted him on the back, hugging him. He had never been particularly physically affectionate before, but now that he was trying harder to mend the relationship with his boys, it felt good to embrace them this way. He liked the way it felt to have his son in his arms, to be comforting him, telling him everything was going to be okay. He hoped that when Rory's head cleared up a bit, that he would notice it too, and make just as much of an effort.

-ooo-

Mrs. Evans knocked on her son's door, not in the least bit surprised when she saw him sitting on his bed, watching TV, his game controller on one side of him, his phone on the other, his face covered in stubble, and his hair a mess. He had showered, but he didn't bother with the extra steps to make himself look nice.

"Honey, you can't sit around and mope the rest of the summer," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sam sighed, his usual response these days. It had been three weeks since he got back from Ireland, and after about a week, the frustration and loneliness set in. At first he was grumpy, then he pouted, and now he was just mopey. Work was the only time he ever got out of the house, and even then he wasn't very enthusiastic about it.

"Alright, I see how it's gonna be," she said, a look of determination on her face. "Get up. Go take another shower and get refreshed. Shave your face, comb your hair, and put on some decent clothes. You look like a slob."

Sam's eyes popped a little bit in surprise at his mother's orders. She sounded firm but not harsh. He could sense her concern under her tone. "Nobody to look good for," he said sullenly.

"Oh yes there is. Look good for yourself. You'll feel better, just like a nice hot shower makes you feel better when you're sick. Besides, I refuse to let you go out in public in that." She nodded her head toward his wrinkled tee shirt and jeans he had worn three days in a row.

"Out in public?" Sam asked, confused.

The look of resolve came to his mother's face. "Yes, public. I'm sick of watching you mope around here like a zombie. Rory will be back in a few more weeks, but until then, you're going to do something productive. I'm taking you to the mall and we're finding you a project or something."

"A project?"

"Yes, a project. A hobby. Something to build, or draw, or something. Something new, since I noticed you haven't bothered to play your guitar in a month and a half," she stated.

Sam looked over at his guitar. He had avoided playing it since every time he picked it up, he thought of Rory and the first time he tried to show him how to play.

"Furthermore, Samuel, you're going to play with your brother and sister for an hour or two a day. Take them to the park and play frisbee or football, or I don't know, go fishing on the lake. Build a fort, but do something and get out of this damn room and this mood you're in," she insisted.

It had been a long time since Sam had seen his mother in such a domineering mode. Generally, her tirades of productivity were reserved for the children, but apparently she felt Sam needed a kick in the seat of the pants as well.

"Come on, hop to. I'll even buy you lunch. You know, food: that stuff you barely eat these days," she added. She raised her eyebrow in that 'You better do it or else' look. The young adult sighed and gave in. He turned off the TV and got off the bed, his mother finally leaving. "You got twenty minutes, mister."

As she shut the door back, he could hear his brother and sister giggling from the other side of the wooden barrier. They were getting a real thrill out of seeing their big brother being bossed around.

-ooo-

Sam and Mrs. Evans returned from the mall around two, having eaten lunch in the food court and then spent time finding Sam something to do. He settled on a model of Bumblebee from Transformers - the character that Seamus had taken a liking to that inspired his own Camaro model. He had never put a model together before, but if a kid could do it, surely Sam could manage.

The expense wasn't so much in the plastic model itself, but in the materials - glue, paint, brushes, a finisher coating, and a decent sized piece of plywood to work on top of, because his mother forbid him to work on it anywhere but the garage. She didn't complain about the expense, however, as she was more than happy to lay down her credit card, as long as it would pull her son out of this funk he was in.

Sam was extra lucky on their shopping trip. Mrs. Evans took him to American Eagle to pick out an outfit to wear the day Rory came back. She told him he had to look like he hadn't spent the summer as a big grump and would need a new outfit to wear to take Rory to dinner.

Stevie tugged on his mom's arm when he saw them bringing in his bags of purchases. "How come Sammy gets new clothes and toys and we don't?" he asked, putting on his best 'Oh woe is me' facial expression.

"Because Sammy is depressed and needs help getting out of it. You and your sister are gonna help, too. Tomorrow I'm taking you and your sister to Sport Shack and you can pick out a new football, a frisbee, and fishing poles. Sam's gonna be spending more time with you," their mother replied.

That answer seemed to pacify the boy as he grinned and ran off to tell his sister of their mission the next day.

When Mr. Evans came home, his wife handed him the credit card receipts to add to their register. He glanced over them, his eyes widening. "Damn, what a shopping spree. Why didn't I get anything?" Just like his younger son, he put on the pity look. It was a skill the Evans men had mastered, but it never works on the Mrs.

"You're as bad as Stevie. I took Sam to the mall. I'm tired of him pouting, so I made him find a project, and he has to play with the kids for an hour or two a day, so between all that plus his shift at the pizza place, he has plenty to do to keep his mind busy for the next few weeks until that boyfriend of his gets back."

"'That boyfriend of his' is named Rory," Mr. Evans corrected playfully. His wife shot him a glare. "Yes, right, well, excellent idea. So what project did he end up with?"

"Go find out," she replied with a smirk. "I could get used to this being aggressive thing. Barking orders and stuff. After you talk to Sam, go make dinner. I'm tired."

Both of them shared a hearty laugh. "Yes, dear. Do you want take out, or frozen?" Mrs. Evans rolled her eyes at her husband's antics.

"Pizza. For the kids and all," she replied. She kissed her husband quickly and sent him on his way, patting him on the rear playfully.

Mr. Evans knocked on his son's door, but discovered he wasn't there. Confused, he turned around to find Stacy standing in front of him.

"He's in the garage, daddy," she told him, grinning. "Mommy's taking us to get a new ball and a frisbee and fishing stuff tomorrow," she added.

"And I still don't get anything! This isn't fair," her father whined. "I guess I better start pouting."

Stacy put her hands on her hips. "No whining, daddy!" she said sternly, then watched him as he made his way toward the garage, laughing to himself.

In the garage, he found Sam setting up a pair of sawhorses and the large piece of plywood.

"What'cha doin' son?" he asked casually.

Sam shrugged. "Just setting up. I'm gonna build something."

His father raised an eyebrow. "Uh what are you gonna build?"

Sam nodded his head toward the paper bag filled with supplies. "A model. Seamus was building one and it looked like it might be fun."

Mr. Evans started poking through the bag, taking out the box the plastic model came in. "Transformers huh? Neat. What are you gonna do with it when you're done? Give it to me?"

Sam chuckled. "I'll probably send it to Seamus. He likes Transformers and that's the one he likes the most."

Mr. Evans hung his shoulders. "And still I get nothing." Sam turned and gave him a confused look. "Heh, nothing. Just being a whiner."

"Better not do that in front of Stacy. You know how she is," Sam advised.

"Too late. She got me already. I got my lecture and everything," his dad replied. "I'm gonna go order pizza and hot wings for dinner. You wouldn't be interested though, being all moody and stuff."

Sam paused. "Did you say hot wings?" he asked with sudden interest. It seemed like in the course of a day, he had been pulled a good amount of the way out of his funk. He was going to text Rory and tell him about it all, but Rory was on vacation, where his phone had no signal.

-ooo-

Mr. Flanagan had planned a family vacation the day after Sam left to go back to America. Having sudden inspiration to be a more involved father and husband, he decided a week away from work and home would be a perfect opportunity to bond. He booked a cruise, secured plane tickets to the port the ship was leaving from, and announced that in three weeks they would be on a fancy ship off the coast of Spain.

None of them had ever been to Spain before, but it sounded like fun. The ship would make three port stops during the week. The rest of the time they would be on the ship, which had plenty to keep the busy. A casino, a gym, a spa, an indoor pool and an outdoor pool with a waterslide, an arcade, two restaurants and a buffet, a disco, a large auditorium for shows, and several activities such as shuffleboard, mini golf, and table tennis. The ship even had a group for kids ten and under with planned activities—lunch included—should Seamus find himself needing something to do or make friends.

The plane ride to the port in Spain was the worst part of the trip, as all plane rides tend to be, but once they actually got on the ship and into their state rooms (Rory and Seamus in one, their parents in the other), the stresses ceased and the fun began.

The entire trip, Rory thought about Sam and how he wished his boyfriend could be there with him, but instead of letting it depress him, it only inspired him. The more fun they had, the more determined Rory became to see to it that he and Sam got to go on their own cruise, just the two of them. His first order of business as soon as they got back home was to do some research online to find out what the expense would be and how much he would need to save up.

Mrs. Flanagan was so excited about the spa that she booked an appointment for three days of massages and was determined to spend at least a half hour in the gym every day, followed by a nice rest in the steam room. As soon as they got a chance to explore the gym, her husband was quick to agree to join her.

Seamus was excited to be part of the kids group and making friends. He still spent time with the family, but the gym, spa, and casino were off limits to someone his age, so he would need something to do while the rest of his family was doing those activities.

The shows every night were amazing. The final night was Cirque de Soleil, but the other nights included comedians, magic tricks, a ventriloquist, singing and dancing, and a talent demonstration. They were all elaborate, utilizing special effects, loud music, audience participation, and some of the most unique talent acts they had ever seen.

Regardless of whatever activities they had been doing during the day, Mr. Flanagan insisted they have dinner together as a family, whether it was in a restaurant or the buffet. There wasn't a chapel on board, but the auditorium was utilized as a place for religious celebration Sunday morning. Mr. Flanagan agreed that the Lord would understand if they missed a full mass to spend time as a family.

Rory did spend some time by himself. He preferred to try the gym without his parents watching over his shoulder, and the idea of being in the steam room with his father wearing only a towel was simply disturbing, so he arranged for those things during separate times. Better still, he was privy to two massages as well, both of them incredibly relaxing. He decided then, too, that he would save up to pay for Sam to have a massage back in Lima. Maybe even a full day at a spa. This trip was giving him so many ideas on how to spoil Sam like a prince.

The three trips to port were spent browsing the town and shopping. Rory felt compelled to bring something back for his American family, settling on a shot glass for his 'dad', a winter scarf for his 'mom', and handmade paintings mounted in 8x10 frames for the kids. Sam was the difficult one. Rory would have loved to bring him back a Spanish guitar, but that was a pipe dream. What he settled on was a guitar strap, hand crafted and embroidered with a Spanish design. It would definitely go better with the guitar than his plain black nylon strap.

The week finally came to a close, and as soon as they got back to Ireland, Rory started flooding Sam with text messages. He didn't rub in the fact that the trip had been so wonderful - he knew it would only depress him to think about Rory having such a good time without him. Instead, he told him how much he missed him, and some things he wanted to do over the next year. He told him he had been practicing his swimming so he could increase his speed, and how Seamus was almost done with his model. He decided he could tell Sam all about the vacation when he got back to America, when he could show him pictures and snuggle up in his arms.

-ooo-

Sam actually found his model building to be quite therapeutic. He would get up, get showered and dressed, and then work on it for a couple of hours at a time. He set up his iPod on a set of speakers and listened to music, even singing along occasionally, while he sanded, glued, placed, and painted the various pieces. It was much more complex than he thought, but he found that as long as he followed the instructions to the letter, it was actually quite easy. He made a trip to the mall to buy some more glue and came home with not only more glue, but a second model and several jars of paint.

"You finished the other one already? What did you get this time?" his mother asked when she saw him passing through the kitchen to the garage.

"Optimus Prime," he replied simply. The only reason she had any idea what an 'Optimus Prime' might be was because Stevie had so many Transformer toys. "It's for after I finish Bumblebee. I needed some more glue and saw this."

She nodded. "Found a new hobby apparently," she said, smiling.

"Nope. It's therapy. Once Rory gets back, my modeling days are done for a while," he replied. What she didn't know was that he had already done some 'modeling' for Rory and those pictures were locked away on his boyfriend's iPhone.

"Still giving the first one to Seamus?" she asked, returning to the cookies she was baking. There was a potluck at her office and she volunteered dessert; twelve dozen cookies she had been slaving over since noon, complete with frosting and decorative candies.

"Yep. I'll send it before Rory comes back, so he can see it. Seamus doesn't know he's getting it yet. I don't even think Rory told him I was building one. It'll be a nice surprise for him." Sam grinned and then continued on down to the garage. He turned on the light and set his new supplies under the table. He was almost done - only another coat of paint, then the gloss finisher and Bumblebee was ready for action.

-ooo-

Rory and Seamus spent more time together than two brothers should have to at one time. Rory was basically free babysitting, which was good for his parents, but lack of freedom was getting on his nerves.

They went to the local public pool just about every day, but Seamus wanted to play around, keeping Rory from being able to do laps. Instead, it seemed like there were always an odd number of kids at the pool, and of course they wanted to play water sports. They couldn't have uneven teams, so Rory would have no choice but to play.

He tried to read and play video games, but Seamus always wanted to play too, and sometimes Rory just wanted to play his games alone. He could only defeat Seamus so many times before it got boring.

He tried to work a routine for himself, despite his brother's annoyances. He would get up, run on the treadmill, lift weights, and then shower. Around noon he would make lunch for himself and his brother, and after his parents came home, he would help with dinner and get another round of exercises done after. The rest of the time was spent trying to appease Seamus or find some way to hide from him.

"Hey boys, I got a surprise for ye'," Mr. Flanagan announced two weeks before summer was over. "I 'ave tickets to the race track Saturday. It's the last one of the summer season."

"Wow! Really?" Seamus exclaimed.

"Yes, really, me son. The three of us. ye'r mam has no interest in the race, so she's going for a ladies' night with her friends," he answered. "The track is a couple hours away, but it should be fun."

Rory smiled. "Sounds really great, Pap." It seemed that whatever he and Sam had talked about really was really being taken to heart. Never before would his dad have taken him and his brother to a race. Send them off together, or with their mother, but he would always be too busy. For his pap to tear himself away from his work for an entire day—and for fun, no less!—was quite an expression of love.

-ooo-

Excited that he finally finished his first model and was ready to send it off to its new owner, Sam proudly displayed it on the kitchen table for everyone to see. He took numerous pictures, beaming the entire time. The next day he went to the FEDEX shop to purchase a box and wrappings. Sam wrapped the Bumblebee model up in so much bubble wrap, packing peanuts, and tape that King Kong could step on it and not damage it. He scribbled a note to the boy and addressed it, then took it back to FEDEX and shipped it off.

Now it was time to start Optimus Prime. The time until Rory returned was drawing ever nearer, and once Rory returned, the chances of Sam finishing anything went right down to zero.

-ooo-

Saturday came and the boys joined their father to the race track. It was two hours away, but Rory had brought something to read, and Seamus brought his Nintendo 3DS. Rory spent most of his time texting Sam back and forth and playing the latest Angry Birds game. The Birds had gone from the farm, to Rio, to outer space, and now were flinging themselves through the water.

The race was exciting. It was only Northern Ireland competitors, but that was quite a few. Two hundred and fifty laps around the track, followed by a display of car-related stunts and drag races, and then a one hundred lap race. Midday they had jumbo hot dogs and nachos, both slathered in cheese and chili, with huge sodas, looking like a bunch of Americans at a baseball game.

Seamus fell asleep on the way back almost the second his head hit the seat back. Most of the ride, Rory and his father made small talk, Rory sharing with him what classes he would be taking, what glee club was like, songs he hoped to perform. Mr. Flanagan asked him about Sam and what kind of things he enjoyed doing aside from glee club and video games. He told him about Sam's guitar playing, his previous football 'career', and his nerdiness with Avatar, among other things.

When Rory inquired about work, his father dismissed his questions. "We've spent enough time worrying about work, me son. Now is the time for me to know ye' instead. Time is short before ye' leave, I'd like to say I at least spent a little time with ye'."

"Well pap, ye' know, as much as ye' say ye' don't know me, I don't know ye' very well either. Ye' never really talk about things ye' like to do, or places ye' wanna go. Ye' ne'er talk about ye'r past, growing up or anything. If we're gonna bond, don't ye' think it should be even, a little me, and a little ye'?" Rory suggested. He was right, his pap had never shared much about himself: hobbies he enjoyed, things he wanted to do, or places he wanted to go or had been. He never talked about growing up or anything else. It had always been about work, how the boys were doing in school, or small talk that amounted to next to nothing.

"I suppose that's fair," his father replied with a smile. "Ask away, me son." With that, they spent the remainder of the ride back talking about his pap, Rory finding out more in that hour than he knew over sixteen years.

-ooo-

Three days later, Seamus received a package in the post. A note was left in their box, informing the Flanagans that because the box was large, they would have to pick it up at the parcel office. All four of them were curious - Seamus wasn't old enough to order anything himself, and neither his brother nor parents had ordered him anything, and it wasn't his birthday anytime soon.

Rory recognized Sam's messy handwriting on the label as soon as they picked it up. He bit his bottom lip to keep from grinning. The return address simply listed the name as S.E.

Barely able to contain his curiosity until they got home, Seamus tore into the box as soon as he got into his bedroom, the rest of the family gathered anxiously around him. Rory knew who it was from, but had no idea what it was.

"BOOM!" Rory shouted as Seamus opened the lid. Mrs. Flanagan screamed, and smacked him in the side for scaring her. His father snickered, receiving a smack of his own.

Seamus removed the object from the box. It was heavy, whatever it was. Packing peanuts littered the floor. Seamus started to unwrap the tape and bubble wrap, Rory picking up the wrap and popping the bubbles.

Now that the object was fully unwrapped, they could see what it was: a plastic model mounted atop a wooden stand. The stand was sanded down and painted, finished off with a glossy texture. The Transformers Autobots logo was painted on the front, along with a single word: "Bumblebee". Rory made a mental note to ask Sam who did the writing - it was far too neat to be his own.

"Wow..." Seamus was speechless. The model was amazing. Bumblebee was posed in a fighting stance, armed with a gun on one hand. He had a glossy finish and the painting was near perfect. "Who-? Where-? Where did this come from?" he stammered in shock.

"Look, honey, there's a note on the floor," his mother pointed out. Seamus picked it up and started to read it, but the writing was too messy for him. He handed it to Rory to read.

Dear Seamus,

I made this for you. I hope you like it. It's my first one ever, so it's special. I know you'll take good care of it.

Your biggest brother,

Sam

Rory grinned widely as he read the note aloud. "That's really cool."

"It's awesome!" Seamus exclaimed. "He made it just for me!"

"He must really like you, Seam. That's his first one and he sent it all the way here. It's real special now, so ye' better take real good care of it," Mrs. Flanagan told him.

Seamus' eyes were shining the same way Rory's did when he was happy and excited. "I'll take good care of it, mammy, I promise! I won't let anything happen to it, ever!"

Rory pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of his brother holding the model up and sent it to Sam.

You made his lifetime. That was awesome of you. Love you!

A few minutes later, Sam sent a reply.

I'm glad he likes it. Don't worry, I got something real special for you when you get here. Love you too.

Rory grinned mischievously. He had a feeling he knew what it was Sam had for him - a wild night in bed to get out their sexual frustrations. Though they'd had sex once during his trip, it wasn't the kind they were craving. They wanted the kind where they could lay in each other's arms afterward, cuddling until they fell asleep. The kind where they could go on and on without worrying about getting caught.

Send me a pic

Rory smirked at his naughty request. Sam knew what he meant when he asked for a pic. He never sent fully nude pictures (except that one time when he was showing his rear), but he sent enough to tease him. This time he sent the most suggestive one yet. Sam was standing in the mirror, the only thing covering him was his hand over his manhood. He had scrawled "I love you" on his chest with a marker or makeup or something in red.

Send one back

Rory on was a little more shy about sending pictures. The bravest he got was one where he had pulled his pants down just enough show his butt, but he had yet to show anything as naughty as Sam. He figured this time he would go just a little bit further. He snuck away to his bedroom where there was a full length mirror. He pulled off his shirt and lowered the waistband of his pants until they were so low, that he could just barely see where his penis met his lower abdomen. He snapped the pic and then sent it, feeling a little foolish.

Hot! I love that you blush when you send pics.

That only made him blush more as he realized that Sam could see his cherry cheeks even in the picture.

Hush Sammy. No touching yourself until I get there, either

Rory grinned at his evil order. He had no intention of masturbating either. He wanted their first encounter when he got back to be filled with passion and lust, fueling them into hours of hot sex.

You better not jerk off either! If you do, I'll know!

Sam was right, too. He would know. Rory shot substantially more and further when it had been a while, and he knew that if Sam saw him shooting not very much, he'd be busted.

They exchanged a few more messages before Rory had to go eat dinner. He sent Sam one last picture - himself blowing a kiss into the camera.

-ooo-

Rory stood in the Derry Airport, waiting for his family to find a parking space. Despite the fact they couldn't go past TSA, they still insisted on parking the car and coming inside to see him off. In other words, his mother wanted to watch her baby boy trotting off into the distance to big, bad America.

The night before, she had been a basket case, asking him fifty questions to make sure he had everything with him.

"Yes, mam, I packed me video games. Yes, mam, I packed me new clothes. Yes, mam, I packed me toothbrush. Yes, mam, I'll text ye' when I land. Yes, mam, I'll make sure to eat on the layover. Yes, mam, I'll be sure to give Sammy a hug for ye'. Yes, mam, I 'ave me laptop and me notebooks and e'erything else." And so the entire day had been, Mrs. Flanagan asking questions and Rory's standard answers beginning with "Yes, mam,".

Mr. Flanagan was much more relaxed. He was saddened that his son was leaving again so soon after working on developing their relationship, but he knew it was important that Rory go – not just for the educational experience, but to be with Sam. He tried to retain an aspect of stoicism, but his eyes betrayed him and he let a few tears streak his cheeks.

"Make sure ye' give this to Sam right away!" Seamus instructed, giving Rory an envelope with stickers sealing it shut. "It's very important!"

"What is it?" Rory asked.

Seamus folded his arms. "That's none of ye' business! It's for Sam and only him. No peeking, and I'll find out!"

Rory smirked. "Yeah, yeah, I got ye'." Seamus then latched his arms around Rory's waist. "I'm gonna miss ye', Rory," he said, tears in his eyes. "I won't 'ave anybody to play with."

Rory knelt down and hugged his brother. "Yeah ye' will. Ye' start fourth grade this year. Ye'll make friends. Ye'll have so much fun, ye'll forget all about me."

"I can't ever forget about me big brother!" Seamus argued into the older boy's shoulder before pulling back. He moved back to stand with his parents and made a visible effort to compose himself, trying to act with the same stoicism his father was attempting.

Rory gave them all last hugs, dropped his bags off at the bag-check, and made his way to the TSA station. When the plane took off, he looked out of the window, down at the ground and said simply, "Goodbye, Ireland."