Ch. 11 - The Panic and the Pretty Boy

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Asteria

fluff and a cliffhanger hope u enjoy

***

In the days following, I found myself feeling a bit more free. I was free and less stressed, less worried over the others around me and just feeling overall better. For the first time in a very long time, I hung out with friends and I wasn't on my toes the entire time and I wasn't mourning my brother still. Rather, I was just being normal, and relaxed, and having fun.

And it was suspicious.

This period of unfamiliar happiness made me uneasy. How long could this false sense of security go on before it was hopelessly demolished by something? The carelessness only made me more anxious of what's to come.

Sam, however, was ecstatic.

"Maybe I just have a good effect on you." he called from the kitchen of his house.

"Or maybe it's because Dream isn't here." I said, walking into the kitchen.

"Or because I'm incredibly sexy."

I shot him a look, "I'm not going to dignify that with a response."

"It's open for interpretation, darlin'." he grinned cheekily.

Although I did find the man very attractive, it was impossible to deem him as "sexy" at the moment. He wore an apron that was quite small on him, considering it was likely made for people that weren't giants like he was. His crown was slightly lopsided and his green hair was growing long enough to just about cover his eyes. Also, he was covered nearly head to toe in flour.

"Am I allowed to ask what you're doing?"

"No." He hummed, leaning over to give me a kiss, but I backed away.

"I'm not kissing you while you look like you just got railed by the Pillsbury Dough Boy."

Sam scoffed, "As if, you know damn well I'd top him any day."

"SAM" I laughed, "just go wash off, then you can discuss whether you'd be a top or bottom with him."

He hummed, a small smirk growing on his face as he stepped closer to me, "I think I'd rather talk about who'd dominate who when it comes to you and I."

I stepped away, acting unfazed while my brain was going absolutely nuts over the new conversation topic, "Wash that shit off, then we can do more than just talk about it, lover boy." I looked him up and down and winked.

Immediately, he rushed to the bathroom.

Smiling, I walked back into the living room and sat on the couch. Although we haven't done "it", there's definitely been more and more sexual tension building up between the two of us. Making out can only go so far, but he's gone out of his way to make sure he isn't pushing my limits. More than anything, he's worried about being like Dream was and making me uncomfortable and obligated to be okay with whatever he does. What he doesn't understand, though, is that I know full well he is not like Dream. In the last month of us being together, he's treated me better than Dream every had - in secret, no less.

Despite him being anxious about it, I knew he was eager to go to the next step, and I was too.

He came out of the bathroom with a smile, looking all fresh and clean, "Now, let's continue that conversation, shall we?"

I hummed as he leaned down so his face was by mine while I sat down, "We shall."

Before anything could happen, though, an alarm went off in the kitchen. Sam groaned, but gave a quick kiss to my forehead and ran off to the kitchen, apron flying behind him like a cape since it wasn't tied right.

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