Work Text:
On November 14th, 1997, Joseph and Linda Maldonado bought their very first shared house as a married couple in Oceanside, California. The environment in California was nothing like the one back in Philly, but it certainly was a welcomed change. The constant smell of seawater felt like home.
Across the street from their new house, a small bookstore recently closed. The large "For Sale" sign seemed to Joseph Maldonado like the opportunity he was eagerly waiting for. Soon enough, Maldonado Films video store was built. Joseph built it all himself; the shelves, the signs, the picture frames for classic posters he hung on the walls. Movies were always his passion. He was drawn to the way a story could be told using one single shot, sound or line, and even though he knew he won't be able to make a living out of making movies, he did know he could definitely sell them to people around Oceanside who loved them just as much as he did.
Maldonado Films was the video store everyone in Oceanside went to, whether for renting or buying movies. Even though there was a cinema at Oceanside, people usually preferred going to the small store to watch their films of choice. Linda and Joseph were easy to talk to and always had good recommendations, and as the years passed and their son Peter was born, he'd become an attraction, too. His curious brown eyes and eyelashes that were definitely too long for a toddler made people smile instantly and kept them wanting to come back.
Movie stars, directors and producers came as well, to see the small corner store that sold more films than any other store in California. Linda took pictures of them all, holding or posing with her son, and hung those pictures on the walls. They were a tiny family, but a happy one nonetheless. Of course, they were fighting sometimes, and life wasn't always kind to them, but they were always filled with joy. Always.
It all changed when Joseph got sick.
Peter was ten at the time, and the store was temporarily closed. The small Maldonado family spent most of their free time at the hospital, watching movies on the small screen the hospital could supply. Linda and Peter would sit next to Joseph's hospital bed and complain about lack of continuity or would admire the compositions and colors on Fantastic Mr. Fox, and for a few hours a day, they'd feel as if they were a normal family again.
Joseph died on October 6th, 2010, and on his will, he left the shop for his wife, his son and his future grandson. He wrote that he hopes that the only reason Maldonado Films would close was if any future Maldonado would decide to create a movie and be a real filmmaker. Peter took his father's last request to heart and swore to never let Maldonado Films die. He spent days and nights at the store, doing everything he could to keep the business running.
---
Video stores, as nostalgic as they are, simply aren't a thing in 2017. In the age of Netflix, no one needs a small corner store that allows you to rent classic movies and discuss them with film enthusiasts like the Maldonado family. The only reason Maldonado Films was still standing was that old people were still uncomfortable with the idea of watching movies online and bought films once in a while. Peter and Linda Maldonado were the only two workers in the shop, but that was okay. They still hung a "hiring" sign on the door, though, just in case someone would like to lend a hand and allow Linda to have the bit of free time she deserved.
They were living alone, just the two of them, in the same small house Linda and Joseph bought 21 years before. Even though they were alone, and even though they spent all of their free time at the store, they were never lonely. They had each other, and it was more than enough.
Peter didn't have many friends, though. It was the summer between his Junior and Senior year, and while every other kid his age was busy partying or smoking weed or generally socializing, he was busy sorting each director's movies in the Auteurs section by chronological order. He was naturally an introvert, and being alone in the store was more emotionally rewarding to him than any kind of other activity involving the Oceanside kids. He did know most of them, and they were all kind to him (even the ones he expected the least, like Dylan Maxwell and the Wayback Boys, who were the only ones to ever persuade him to come to a party. It was one of the most awkward nights of his life and he spent most of it playing card games with a drunk Ming Zhang on the floor, but still, he appreciated the invitation), but he just had never felt the need to be one of them. He was doing just fine in his small shell, watching movies and working at the store.
He was in the middle of sorting Kubrick's films chronologically when he heard the door open. Customers in the middle of the day were unusual; old people tended to show up either extremely early or extremely late, so the middle of the day was always somewhat of a break. He sighed as he rose from the floor on which he sat, and walked over to the counter. A guy around his age was shuffling through the Musicals section, smiling to himself. The last time a teenager that wasn't Peter bought something here was years ago, so seeing this dude was odd, especially since he had absolutely no clue who this guy was.
Peter was certain he hadn't seen him before. If he had, he'd probably remember such a guy. His hair was slick with gel, freckles scattered all over his cheeks and nose, and his eyes were big and green and stunning. Generally, Peter could describe that guy as a walking wow. And he was smiling, god, this weird kid had the most infectious smile in the universe. Peter didn't even notice he was smiling, too, until he noticed and it was too late and oh my god Peter where is your impulse control.
"Can I help you?" He asked the guy eventually, his voice sounding much rougher than he intended.
"Oh?" The stranger looked up at him and smiled his stupid smile again. It made Peter feel all warm inside, even though he had to physically prevent himself from smiling the giddiest smile back. "Hey, I, umm… I saw the sign outside and wanted to ask if you guys were still hiring?"
"Yeah, actually." Peter nodded. Even his voice felt soothing, like watching a Pixar movie on a cold, stormy night. "Yeah. We are."
The stranger scanned the store with his eyes, constantly grinning. "Awesome. I'm Sam, by the way. Sam Ecklund. I'm new here."
"Oh, that explains why I haven't seen you before," Peter said. "I'm Peter Maldonado."
"Like, the Maldonado? As in Maldonado Films Maldonado?"
"Yeah," Peter chuckled softly, and Sam's ears reddened.
"Cool. That's really cool. So, umm, should I, like, leave my details here and wait for the big boss to call me back to do an interview or something?"
"No, I don't think so. I'll just call the big boss, she's not too busy right now." Peter said, taking out his phone. His mother kept talking about wanting to learn photography, so he assumed another worker would be a great help. She wouldn't have to stay at the store for as long as she usually did, and she'll have more than enough time to work on her hobbies. She'll obviously say yes.
"Cool," Sam said again, shoving his hands in his pockets as Peter called his mother and told her about the new kid who wants to start working their store. After a while, Peter hung up.
"Okay, Sam, you're ninety percents hired," Peter said, and Sam stared at him confusedly.
"What? That's it?"
"Almost." Peter smiled. He wasn't very much of a smiling person, but something about the new kid made him want to smile more. "Mom said that I'd show you around and you should come back tomorrow to see where this is going, which basically means you're almost hired. She just needs to like you tomorrow."
"Sounds nice," Sam told him as Peter left the counter. Now that he wasn't sitting on his stool, he could see that Sam was a bit taller than him, which he found adorable for some reason. He had no idea why, but something about this Sam kid just made Peter feel lighter.
They spent the next two hours going around the store, Peter showing Sam where everything is and how the computer works. Peter explained to him what he's allowed to do (sitting, eating, playing music) and what he isn't allowed to do (giving discounts to old people who really love discounts they don't actually need). Sam seemed so excited and filled with enthusiasm about everything, every now and then gasping upon seeing movies he loves.
Eventually, they both sat next to the counter, eating two halves of the one sandwich Linda made Peter this morning. Sam leaned back against the wall, playing music by some generic pop singer from his phone. That wasn't really Peter's style, but something about Sam's excitement made Britney's autotuned voice sound less insufferable.
"Why did you even move?" Peter asked him after a moment of silence.
Sam shrugged. "My dad saw business opportunities here, so we moved last week, and mom said finding a job in a new place will help me socialize, so."
"And how's it been?"
"What, moving or socializing? Because I hadn't had much from the socializing part, except you," Sam asked and Peter rolled his eyes fondly, fumbling with the sleeves of his grey hoodie. "Moving's not too bad. I didn't like my old neighborhood much anyways. Plus, there are no video stores there."
Peter laughed. "We're quite literally one of a kind."
"That really sucks, man." Sam smiled, taking a bite of the sandwich.
"Will you be studying at Hanover?"
"Yeah," Sam said. "Not for long, though, senior year and everything."
"I'll be starting my senior year, too," Peter grinned.
"Awesome! It's great, having an ally. Is Hanover any good, though? Like, are they cool?"
"I wouldn't know," Peter shrugged. "I'm not exactly the most popular kid in school, so I don't really know everyone, but most of them are cool. As far as I'm concerned."
Sam smiled genuinely at him, and it seemed like a weight was lifted from his heart. "Sounds nice."
---
As time went by, Sam Ecklund became an integral part of Maldonado Films. Business was just like always, but something in the air had shifted with Sam there. It felt as if he was naturally making everything seem prettier with his smiles and his early 00s trashy pop songs, which made Peter be able to hum songs by Beyonce, which was new, but not unwelcomed. Linda loved him, too. Sam kept being too lazy to make his own breakfast to work, so she made two sandwiches each day. It felt nice, having someone there besides the two of them.
As school started, Sam joined the drama club and proved himself to be a decent actor. People from school would try and get the new kid's attention all the time, but the new kid had plans of his own. For some mysterious, unknown reason, he chose to hang out around Peter of all people, which kinda made people remember Peter ever existed.
It was weird, having someone as cool as Sam by your side at all times, but it was incredible. They sat next to each other on every single class they shared, and they started sitting around the Wayback Boys at lunch.
"I'm telling you, boys," Ganj started one day. "Boobs are just two weird fat sacks that just hang there. Asses are way more attractive."
Peter was usually silent during those boobs/ass debates the Wayback Boys kept having. He didn't have much to contribute, since he was gay, which made his options to narrow down to only ass. He wasn't too keen on making a big deal out of him being gay, so he rathered staying silent than try to join the conversation. Surprisingly, Sam "Always Has Something To Say" Ecklund was silent too. Once in a while, he'd look at Peter to see his reactions, but he said nothing at all.
"Dude," Spencer started. "Asses are lame. Boobs are, like, the shit."
"Yeah," Dylan agreed. "What d'you think, Sam?"
Sam seemed to choke on his food, yet it took him seconds to get his cool back. No one noticed his small reaction but Peter, who was probably staring. "Yeah, yeah. Um, I think both are equally attractive? I mean, boobs and asses are great, but it's the personality that matters."
"Bro," Dylan gasped. "That was some inspirational shit you got there. Woah. Yeah, if she's pretty underneath, then her boobs and ass are pretty, too, because she's pretty inside. That's like I had with Mack, right? She didn't have much ass but I loved her butt because she had a personality. Dude, you're a genius."
"Thanks, I get that a lot." Sam laughed, looking at Dylan with utter confusion.
"You'll get used to it," Peter whispered to him with a soft smile.
---
The weeks passed, and Sam and Peter got into their comfortable routine. Peter drove them both to school, they were constantly at each other's side, and at the end of the day, they'd go back to the store together. Once in a while, they'd leave the store for Linda and would sit in Peter's room, watching movies Sam hadn't seen yet. Peter had, unsurprisingly, seen them all.
"There's got to be a movie here you haven't watched yet, Pete," Sam told him one day as he was rearranging Adam Sandler's movies. "Here. Going Overboard, 1989. Have you seen it?"
"The one with Billy Bob Thornton? Yeah, it sucked."
Sam sighed. "You're unbelievable. What about, umm…" He scanned the store with his eyes. "Hunger, 2008?"
"One of Steve McQueen's best movies ever," Peter said proudly.
"Damnit. What haven't you watched yet? There's got to be something."
"Okay, confession time." Peter laughed a little awkwardly. "I've seen every movie in here, except for one classic, which I haven't gotten around to watching yet. Please don't kill me."
"Which one?" Sam asked, looking up at him. Peter blushed a little. Sam always had the ability to somehow making him blush for no good reason at all.
"Please don't kill me. The Lion King. Please, please don't kill me."
"Dude!" Sam gasped. "You haven't watched The Lion King? Wow, that's the most Peter Maldonado thing I've ever heard. Of course you watched an Adam Sandler movie that was ranked like, two on IMDB, but you haven't seen The Lion King."
Peter laughed. "Typical."
"You're coming over after work and we're watching The Lion King. You have absolutely no right to decline this invitation, Pete."
"Fine, fine."
When it was finally 8 pm, Peter drove them both to Sam's place. He had a big house, which made sense since Sam told him once how he had four siblings. Peter never met any of them, though, or anyone else from Sam's family.
Even though it's been almost two months since the Ecklunds moved to Oceanside, there were still boxes everywhere. "Hey, Dad," Sam called at the man sitting at the table and reading some papers.
"Hey, honey." The man said without looking up. "How was work?"
"Great. Peter's here, too." Sam said, something weird in his voice. Peter deliberately chose to ignore.
"Who?" Mr. Ecklund said, looking up. "Oh, Work Peter. Hey." He smiled at him kindly, yet there was suspicion in his eyes. "Are you staying for dinner?"
"Yeah, he is," Sam replied before Peter had the chance of saying anything. "We'll be at my room."
"Fine. Have fun," he answered, his eyes not leaving the boys until they entered Sam's room.
The room, just like any other room in the house, was still mostly packed. There were some playbills on the wall, but most of them were neatly piled on his desk. There were clothes scattered everywhere, and everything just felt like Sam. For some reason, it made Peter smile. Everything that reminded him of Sam lately made his legs all wobbly and his heart cry of joy, but he was still hesitant to put a name on it. Names would just make it all more complicated.
Sam sat on his bed, giving Peter enough space to sit beside him as he turned the TV on. Quickly, he found The Lion King on Netflix (Which rewarded him with an "Ew, Sam, You're working in a video store and you use Netflix? What the fuck, man?"). As the movie begun, Sam turned the lights off.
Peter couldn't see if he was correct, but he had this strange feeling that Sam was looking at him. Usually, he'd feel uncomfortable with having somebody else's eyes on him, but knowing it was Sam made it feel natural. It didn't make him nervous, it just felt homely.
When Mufasa died, Peter noticed he was tearing up. He wasn't the type of person to cry in movies, but seeing Simba begging his father to wake up made him way more emotional than he had expected. Then, he felt a weary hand resting on his back, and he leaned into the touch. Soon enough, he buried himself in his best friend's shoulder. Even when he stopped crying, Sam hadn't lifted his hand, and Peter hadn't lifted his head from Sam's shoulder. They were sitting like this, almost snuggling for the rest of the movie. It should've felt weird or uncomfortable, but it didn't. It was as if they've done it for years.
As the movie ended, though, they tore apart. Sam turned the lights back on, and they were both silent. Suddenly, the awkwardness of earlier started to sink in.
Peter couldn't be into his new best friend. That's not what best friends are for, and besides, it was meant to fail. Sam wasn't interested in him, he was simply kind. That was all. And what would he be interested in, really? A film nerd who ideologically refuses to buy a Netflix subscription and has four other friends besides him? There was nothing attractive about Peter Maldonado, and everything about Sam was as attractive as it can be. They can never be a thing, and hoping for them to become one was just a lost cause.
Sam opened his mouth to say something but was cut by a knock on the door. "Sammy?" A little girl called from outside. "Ben said that the food's ready."
"Okay, we'll be right there," Sam called at the girl, standing up to stretch. He was actively trying not to look at Peter. "Let's go."
They went downstairs, and the table was set for eight. Mr. and Mrs. Ecklund sat next to one another, talking silently, and a boy a bit younger than Sam was putting food on the table. As they sat next to the tables, all sets of eyes were aimed directly at Peter, but the only eyes that mattered to him were staring at nothing at all.
Sam's three other sisters sat next to the table, too. Everyone was silent, so the boy who cooked began talking to fill in the silence. "So, it's probably not my best pasta ever, but it's certainly one of the better ones." He began.
"Shut up, Benny, let us decide." One of the sisters said. She seemed older than everyone else, so Peter assumed she was Harper. She was the only sister Sam actively mentioned on numerous occasions, so he liked her already. Ben stuck his tongue out at her, and she grinned fondly at him.
"Asshole," Ben told her.
"Language, kids." Mrs. Ecklund said. She looked just like her son, which meant beautiful. Her eyes were green and bright, and freckles were spread all over her face. She seemed nice, which only made Peter feel much, much more nervous. He felt as if it all was a huge test and he was failing. "Peter, right?" she asked him.
Peter nodded at her. "Yes. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Ecklund," He said, and he could notice Sam giggling softly.
"Oh, please, it's Rachel," She smiled fondly at him as Ben filled everyone's plates with pasta. Rachel tasted the paste with a big grin. "Wow, Ben, great job! A bit more salt will make it perfect, but it's still great."
Mr. Ecklund made an approving noise, as Amy, Sam's 12 years old sister, added ketchup to it for some reason. While everyone was still checking him out, it still felt nice and homely.
"So, Peter," Mr. Ecklund started after a while, and Rachel shot him a warning look. "What do you think of Ellen?"
"Oh, god." Sam mumbled. "Dad, stop."
"What? She's my favorite comedian, Sammy."
"Roger," Rachel said, elbowing him.
All Peter could ask himself was what the fuck, but still he smiled politely. "I like her. She's funny and articulate, other than being kind and sort of revolutionary."
Sam looked at him for the very first time since they started eating with an approving look, which made Peter's heart beat slightly faster.
"Revolutionary?" Roger asked. "What, her being a lesbian?"
"Yeah," Peter shrugged. "It must've been hard on her, but she still led the way for young people to be whoever they want to be."
"Okay, I don't hate you." Roger concluded with a small grin, and Sam seemed like he wanted to drown himself.
"Please, dad, stop talking." Harper told him and he raised his hands up in defense.
Peter had absolutely no idea what the hell was going on, but he assumed that was probably a good sign.
---
After they were done eating and Peter's offers to help do the dishes were politely declined, Sam and Peter went back to Sam's room.
"What was going on?" Peter asked his best friend, who sat back on the bed, sighing.
"I lied to you," Sam said quietly. "I mean, not completely, but there was a lie there, somewhere."
"What are you talking about?"
"I told you we came here because my dad had a business opportunity. That was a lie."
"Okay, cool?" Peter said confusedly. "That's fine, really, you don’t have to explain to me why you moved."
"No, no, I do have to," Sam said, leaning back and closing his eyes. "I had a boyfriend, back home. We went to Pride together, and someone posted a picture of us kissing, but my boyfriend was unrecognizable, and you could see me clearly. And, like, it isn't like California there, dude. People were mean, and he broke up with me almost immediately. It got insufferable, so we moved here. That's why my dad was being all weird, he was just worried you're a homophobic piece of trash."
Peter stared at him silently. If he wasn't talking one moment earlier, Peter could've thought Sam was asleep. Perhaps it would've been better, because then he couldn't notice Peter was staring at him and not replying.
"Peter?" Sam asked, but still, Peter couldn't find words. Actually, he did have words, like angry, or what the heck, or I'm gay myself so homophobic piece of trash is kinda out of the equation, but he had no clue how to form those words into one sentence.
"I'm sorry," Peter said eventually. "They sound like a bunch of jerks. You really didn't deserve that, dude, I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, Pete. Are we okay, though?" Sam asked, sitting back up.
"Yeah, sure. I'm only expressing my homophobic emotions at home." Peter joked as Sam threw a pillow on his face.
"Jerk." Sam said with a smile.
"I think now is a good time to officially state I'm gay, so, like, not really a homophobe." Peter mentioned, trying to make it sound as casual as he could.
"Oh." Sam froze. "Oh, cool. Really? Cool."
---
After their mutual coming out conversation, things stayed pretty much the same, except for Sam casually mentioning hot people to Peter, who would always nod even though he found only one attractive guy in all of Oceanside.
Slowly, Peter started accepting the facts that A. he's really, really into his best friends, and B. that those emotions aren't and will never be reciprocated. Judging from the guys Sam mentioned to be hot, it didn't seem like Peter was much of his type. Peter assumed he should just try his hardest not to think about it, just until it'll naturally fade away.
Not thinking about it, however, proved itself to be completely ineffective. When Sam sent him a candygram on Valentine's day, Peter felt as if he was about to faint, even though Sam sent one to every single friend he has at Hanover. He kept reading too much into stuff, overthinking every word that came out of Sam's mouth, and it was tiring.
When Sam invited Peter to the premiere of their Drama Department production of Almost, Maine and had casually mentioned how Peter would be sitting with the only friend he has from back home, Peter wasn't able not to read into this.
Meeting Gabi and sitting next to her was the equivalent of formally meeting the parents. He knew how much she'd meant to Sam, and how much her approval of things changed stuff for him, and something within him hoped it meant Sam was seeking for her green light to be with Peter. That wasn't true, not even close, but a guy can dream.
The night of Sam's premiere, Peter was one of the very first people to get to the theatre. Not the first, though, since a black haired girl was already sitting where he was supposed to. He took a big breath, walking towards her. "Gabi?" He asked.
"Hey!" She greeted him warmly. "I'd get up, but I'm too lazy for that. You're probably Peter, right?"
"Yeah. Hey." He said, sitting next to her. "You must've had a long ride, aren't you tired?" He asked, then remembered that obviously she is, and wished that he'd become mute until the show will end.
"Yeah, a bit, I guess, but Sam's show is so much more meaningful than sleep." She smiled kindly, unaffected by Peter's awkwardness. He could see why Sam liked her. "Friendship goals, I guess."
"Ha. Yes." Peter said, and then sat awkwardly until everyone rushed into the theatre. Sam's family were sitting next to Gabi. She was talking casually with the little girls as the lights dimmed, and Mr. Gilbert told everyone to turn off their phones.
The play began with Sam alone on the stage, wearing a heavy coat and gloves. He seemed so relaxed, even though he was blushing. Peter knew it was Sam's way to say "I'm currently dying of anxiety and need help", but he knew Sam well enough to trust him. Sam will be fine; he worked hard enough on his lines to be just fine. He heard Sam delivering the opening monologue that leads to the play's prologue a thousand times already when he helped him practice in the dead hours they spent alone in the store, but seeing him say the words on stage made him feel as if he heard them for the first time.
Then it hit him, as hard as a brick in the head.
It was much more than a thing, what he had for Sam. It wasn't a thing that could fade away.
He fell in love with his best friend.
Those butterflies in his stomach were going crazy as the scenes changed, moving from one couple to another. Sam was playing four different characters, so Peter had absolutely no break from seeing the person he loves doing the thing he loves. When Sam was on stage, even if he really wanted to, Peter couldn't tear his eyes off of him. He was so beautiful and talented, and he was smiling that freaking smile of his, the one he smiled the day they met and made Peter's heart race. Maybe that was the day he fell in love with him, and he just denied it all along. That was such a Peter thing to do, deny that kind of stuff until it's too late and he's in too deep.
Then came a scene Peter knew well. It was the scene Sam struggled with most, the dialogue he had with Zack Rutherford. As they rehearsed this scene, Sam kept forgetting his lines and losing his focus, but Peter had faith. He knew Sam would ace this.
"I believe you," Sam began, entering the stage. "I'm just sayin'…"
"It was bad, Chad, bad," Zack replied. Peter found himself mouthing Zack's lines silently, his eyes focused on Sam. He was hoping, crossing his fingers discreetly, even though it was clear Sam's going to be okay.
They kept shooting lines, back and forth, telling each other about their bad dates. Then, the part Sam stumbled around with the most began. He sat on the bench in the middle of the stage. "…And I got really scared, because there's gotta be something that makes you feel good, or at least makes sense in this world, or what's the point, right?" He started, and then took a long, deep breath. He looked straight to the audience for a moment, and Peter almost thought Sam was staring right at him. A soft, tiny smile appeared in the corners of his mouth as he continued his monologue. "But then I kinda came out of bein' sad, and actually felt okay, cause I realized that there is one thing in this world that makes me feel real good and does make sense, and it's you."
The script, as far as Peter remembered, says that everything stops at this moment. He never thought the script could ever be so accurate; everything in the universe stopped. Earth stopped spinning, time stopped running. There was no one in the audience, no one in the world but Sam and Peter. Even though Sam wasn't looking at him anymore, and his lines were well-rehearsed ones that were written by somebody else, Peter felt his knees getting weaker and weaker, his mouth all dry. He wanted to get there, to jump from his seat and kiss Sam right there and then, but then Zack kept talking, and the scene continued, and there were dozens of other eyes directed at his best friend. Peter exhaled a breath he didn't even notice he was holding, and now he noticed the weird way Gabi was staring at him.
A few scenes later, the play ended, with Sam and Madison reprising their roles from the first scene and hugging. As the lights turned off, everyone started clapping, and Peter found himself standing all of a sudden. He was never into theatre, it just wasn't his thing. This time, though, he was so drawn to it he thought he might sink. It was probably because it was Sam, and everything related to Sam made him forget everything.
The lights turned on, and the cast went out for their bows. Peter was still the only one standing, but slowly everyone else in the audience stood too. He felt like Sam was looking at him, but then again, he probably wasn't.
After the bows everyone started leaving, but Peter stayed with Sam's family and Gabi, waiting for him. He came out eventually, wearing a hoodie Peter gave him last week when he was complaining about being cold. Gabi was the first one to jump on him, telling him how great he was. Sam was blushing and smiling as everyone was complimenting him.
Peter did what he believed was the most reasonable thing to do; he waited there, watching him and grinning. Seeing Sam this happy made him feel like he was walking on a cloud. Sam deserved all that happiness and admiration, he deserved the world.
When Harper was done telling Sam he was a talented jerk, Gabi cleared her throat. "Sammy, I thought maybe we could, like, grab some dinner, all of us?" She asked, staring at him with this meaningful look. Peter, for once, couldn't understand the look he was giving her back. "But I assume you have things to do backstage, and I'm sure Peter could help,"
"What?" Peter asked, and Sam's weird look got even weirder.
"It only makes sense. We're leaving at nine, bye!"
Then she left, dragging every single Ecklund but Sam with her. Sam stared at her leaving and then sighed. "Sorry about that."
"That's cool," Peter shrugged, smiling a little. "And, to continue the list of things that are cool, you were incredible, dude."
"Thanks," Sam chuckled.
Neither of them said anything as they walked to the backstage together and folded Sam's four outfits, placing them back in the box where it waited for the show tomorrow. There was something in the air between them, or perhaps Peter was simply imagining it. The weird emotions that flooded him when he watched Sam perform overwhelmed him, so it would only be rational to assume he was feeling tensions that weren't even there.
Sam wasn't talking much either. He was mostly silent, apart from mentioning moments where he forgot his lines and asked Peter if it was noticeable. Peter joked and told him that of course it was, since every single person in the audience had the script memorized. Sam laughed and called him an asshole, and he was looking at him again. There was nothing irregular about it, but still, it made Peter smile too. Stupid, infectious smile.
They left the theatre in silence. Peter still felt the weight of unsaid words on his shoulders, and this time he was certain it wasn't only in his head. Sam seemed as if he had something to say, but kept chickening out. They walked together, still not speaking, until Sam stopped. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. He was staring at his burgundy shoes as if they were the most interesting thing in the universe. "Is everything okay?" Peter asked him, stopping next to him. He tried reading his best friend's face for any clues, any kind of information on what was bothering him so much.
"Yeah," Sam said, but then thought it over. "No, actually. Not at all." He huffed, frustratingly chuckling to himself. "That's so fucking lame, Pete!"
"What's lame?" Peter asked, confused.
"This," Sam begun, vaguely pointing at the space between himself and Peter. "Us. That's fucking lame. So, so lame. What the fuck's even going on?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Sam."
"Of course you don't. You're so fucking smart, but you won't see anything unless it hits your face. Fuck it, Pete, you won't even see it when it hits you in the face."
"Can you please tell me what are you talking about? I'm worried about y-"
Talking is hard when someone else's lips are shoved against yours. Sam took his hands out of his pockets to take hold of Peter's face and pull him close. It wasn't even that much of a kiss, they were both just there. It took Peter a moment to process what was happening, but apparently, it was one moment too late. Sam had already broken the almost-kiss, looking at Peter as if he was a deer and Peter's eyes were the headlights of a car.
"that was a mistake. Fuck, I'm sorry. Forget about it, okay? Just… forget about it." Sam said quietly, almost as if he was actually afraid of Peter, and he just left.
Like that, Peter was left alone in the middle of the street, unable to move. His lips were burning, and he honestly thought it was a good kind of burn, until he remembered Sam wasn't there.
Sam wasn't there when he called him ten times, leaving him messages about how they needed to talk that were left on read. He wasn't there when he called Harper, asking if Sam was okay. She told him he was, but wasn't in the mood to talk, and asked him to give him time. He wasn't there the next day at work, either, when he left Linda a text calling in sick. He wasn't there at school, where he was avoiding Peter as if he was the plague. He wasn't there when Peter waited for him outside the backstage everytime he performed.
He wasn't there when Linda called Peter a week after his and Sam's kiss, asking him if everything was fine between them, because Sam just talked to her and told her he was quitting his job at Maldonado Films.
That was enough.
It was raining, and Peter drove to Sam's house. He couldn't decide what was he feeling more, angry or sad or disappointed or in love. So madly in love, he wished for a moment he'd never met Sam in the first place, but then he reminded himself how Sam was probably the best thing that has ever happened to him, even though he was an idiot.
He knocked on the door, crossing his arms. Sarah opened the door, still wearing her school uniform. Peter didn't even notice how good second graders were in soothing your anger until she stood there, but it was still not enough. "Hey, Pete!" She said. "Sam told me to tell you he's not here."
"Oh my god," Peter heard Sam groan from another room. Even though he sounded frustrated, it was the very first time since their fight he heard his voice, and it just made him feel everything again. He missed him so much.
"Sarah, can you do me a favor?" Peter told her quietly. "Tell Sam I'm waiting for him outside, in the pouring rain," he stopped to remove his hoodie, staying with a short-sleeved shirt. "And that it's really, really cold outside."
She nodded and closed the door in Peter's face. Thank god for obedient seven year olds.
Peter was shivering as he threw his hoodie into the car, but he knew Sam well enough to know he'd come out to tell him it was irresponsible of him to be outside like that. Two minutes later, Sam really did come out, holding a hoodie that once belonged to Peter. He was furious and worried. "Come inside, idiot," Sam said, shoving the hoodie into his chest before disappearing around the hall. Peter grinned proudly to himself, mouthing Sarah a genuine "thank you".
He followed Sam into his room. There were fewer boxes now, his playbills all hung on his wall, but it was getting messier each day. Usually when Peter came over he'd mindlessly clean around Sam's room, but this time he wanted to leave it in its unorganized form. It was very Sam, which made him love it.
Sam was sitting on his bed, his most serious, cold face on. "You wanted to talk."
"Yes."
"Then talk," Sam said. "If you're reaching out to me, you must have something to say, so say it."
Peter hugged the hoodie close to his chest, not only because it lost every trace of Peter's smell and now was filled with Sam's, but also because it was really fucking cold. His original plan didn't involve Sam expecting him to say anything, it was supposed to be Sam explaining what was going on. He had no idea what to say.
"I'm confused, Sam." Peter confessed eventually. "We were fine, right? Everything was just fine, until you started to get all nervous, but not the good kind of nervous, and then you started talking crap and you kissed me and then stopped talking to me, like, what the fuck, Sam? You're the one who kissed me. Why are you so pissed at me? What did I do?"
"Proving my point, once again." Sam muttered to himself.
"Oh my god, Sam, just tell me what's wrong. What did I do to you that was so bad that you quit your job? Just talk to me, that's literally all I'm asking."
"I like you, Peter."
Sam said it so quietly, Peter wasn't sure if he really heard it or it was just his mind playing tricks on him. His best friend was staring at the floor again, avoiding any kind of eye contact with Peter. "What did you say?" He asked, just to be sure.
"I said," Sam said, breathing in deep and looking straight into Peter's eyes. This time, he wasn't a frightened deer. He was just Sam. "That I like you. A lot. And I know you probably don't feel the same, and that's cool, y'know? You can't force people you like to like you back, and that's fine. It's just painful sometimes, seeing you every day, being with you every day, and wanting to... I don't even know what, dude. And, like, Gabi did this thing at opening night because I promised her I'll tell you what I feel, and I didn't know how, so I fucking kissed you like an idiot, and then I couldn't fucking look you in the eyes-"
"And you call me the blind one."
"What?"
Peter started laughing. Not giggling or anything like that, it was a full-on throaty laughter. He could feel anxiety flowing out of him in waves, and he was floating. "God, Sam, I sometimes forget why I love you so much and then you're all like this and I- god." He laughed of relief. Finally saying it out loud, that he loved Sam Ecklund, wasn't as hard as he thought.
"You sometimes forget what, Peter?" Sam asked, his green eyes shining brightly. Peter's laugh faded away, but his giddy smile remained.
"Why I Love you. With a capital L."
---
Before that day, Peter had been in exactly one social gathering with people from his school, which was that one party he was persuaded by the Wayback Boys to go to. It was awkward, being there mostly on his own, except for that period of time where Ming Zhang was drunk and felt like playing War, begging Alex Trimboli to lend him his set of cards. This War game was nice, even though Peter lost (which was absolutely embarrassing, since Ming was drunk. Not tipsy, full on drunk. He didn't even remember their game the following morning). The thing is, Peter never felt the need to go back and do that again. Being alone wasn't something he hated, but being alone where everyone had somebody to be with was devastating.
But when Sam asked him to be his date to prom, Peter couldn't decline. He was his boyfriend, after all, and he really did want to be there with him. He wanted to see Sam in a suit, he wanted to give him flowers and to dance with him to stupid slow songs he hated but Sam probably loved. Honestly, he couldn't really hate things Sam loved anymore; even Britney's voice sounded the sweetest now, because he kept hearing her but seeing Sam grin and laugh as he sang Toxic on top of his lungs, prompting Peter to sing along.
It was prom night, and Sam was supposed to meet him at the store. It wasn't a practical idea at all, since it meant Sam should have walked all the way from his house to Maldonado Films in a suit, but Sam was the one who suggested it.
"It'd be so fucking romantic, Pete. That'll be more cheesy than La La Land." Sam told him then, and Peter couldn't say no to being cheesier than the most romantic movie of the last decade. Sam knew him well enough to know how to make him do the stupidest stuff, like waiting for him at the store instead of driving him to prom straight from his house like a normal human being.
It was definitely worth it, though.
He was sitting behind the counter when Sam entered the store. Like the nerd he is, he stopped before he got to the counter to put Little Shop of Horrors on display at the musicals section.
His hair was slick with gel, freckles scattered all over his cheeks and nose, and his eyes were big and green and stunning. Today, when Sam wore his grey suit, Peter could describe his boyfriend as a walking wow. And he was smiling, god, Sam had the most infectious smile in the universe. Peter didn't even notice he was smiling, too, until he noticed and it was too late and now he couldn't stop.
"Can I help you?" He asked Sam eventually.
"Oh?" His boyfriend looked up at him and smiled his stupid smile again. It made Peter feel all warm inside. "Hey, I, umm… I heard there's a guy here that's supposed to take me to prom, and I wanted to ask, are we about to get going? The asshole promised me a dance."
"Yeah, actually." Peter nodded with the giddiest smile ever and left the counter. Sam kissed him softly. His lips felt soothing, like watching a Pixar movie in a cold, stormy night. "Yeah. We are."