[Sam has this thing about being ignored. He hates it. He'd rather someone call him names than ignore him. And that's why he's so pissed at Jase for standing him up today. It wasn't supposed to be a date or anything, they were just going to grab some food and then hit up a party as friends. Sam wanted a plus one, and he asked Jase if he'd come, and it was supposed to be a fun night. Instead Sam has been waiting at the boardwalk for an hour, and his phone is dead so he can't even call Jase.
His first reaction is worry. Maybe something had happened. After waiting, he'd finally given up and gone to Jase's house. His car was in the driveway and everything looked normal, and upon peeking through the windows, he saw Jase was sleeping. Sleeping. He'd blown Sam off to sleep.
Well. Sam had never claimed to be a nice person. Or a rational one. He was pissed. He paced the driveway for a moment before picking up a decently sized rock, going back to the window. Then he drew his arm back and threw it, watching it sail through the air and shattering the glass with an earsplitting crash.
He crossed his arms and waited. No one stood him up and got away with it.]
[Jase, already a little restless with not being able to sleep, was up like a shot. A low cuss muttered under his breath as first, he made his way to the lounge to reset the alarm again. It wasn't a blaring sound, unlike others - less was always more for any good hitman. The slightest beep in the space of about three seconds between each one was detectable and safer than anything loud. Less distracting, too.
He turned his eyes, gaze sharp, almost as if he'd expected it to be him - it would be someone he knew. He didn't move, smirking slowly. Then his arms raised, and spread, shirtless and lazy. Well done, kid. Feel big now?]
[Jase was actually smirking at him. Sam flushed with anger, wanting to throw an even bigger rock through another window, but he controlled himself and decided to yell instead, not caring which of the neighbors heard.] Hey, asshole, I waited for you for an hour. Be glad I didn't decide to break something on your car.
[casually, he leant out the window, minful of the shards sticking out at the frame and tipped his head aside] Makin' a lot of fuss for askin' me so damn casually...
You stood me up! We had a fucking date! [He huffs out a breath.] Not a date date, just a - you know, you can't just say you're gonna do something with me and then not show, unless you want me to break your fucking windshield next.
[he should have been at least a little pissed, but this little performance right here, to Jase - was nothing short of endearing] Hey. [reaching out easily, he hooked fingers into the lapels of his jacket, collar of his shirt and tugged him forward]
[Sam isn't having it. He has a temper and it's been tipped. He jerks out of his grasp and stalks into the house.] You know, just because you think you're some big badass killer doesn't mean you can just do whatever the fuck you want.
[amused that he came inside despite his protests, Jase lets him rant. His eyes dark, following his movements as he does so. Before he grips at his wrist, the one which held the rock, and tugs at him close]
Shut. Up. [he's already disrupted his shut-eye, and now...]
Don't fucking tell me to shut up. [He practically snarks in his face.] You said you'd come and you didn't. What the fuck happened? You better have a good excuse.
[Sam stiffens when he hears Jase's reply. No excuse. He'd stood him up just because... what? He wasn't important enough? He forgot about him? He didn't want to hang out with him outside of the bedroom? All of these possibilities makes Sam's blood boil, and his hand closes into a fist, and then he hits Jase across the mouth. Hard. Jase may be a professional hitman, but Sam is by no means weak, and he's gotten into his fair share of fights before. He feels a rush of satisfaction as his knuckles make impact with the soft flesh of his mouth, and he sees a small flash of red.]
I waited for you. [He grates out in a rough whisper, his words trembling slightly as his back hits the floor. If he takes a moment to assess his feelings, it's not all about Jase. Yes, he's pissed he stood him up, but it's more than that, it's issues Sam's had from before he even met Jase. He waited for him, and he never showed, and it's exactly what Sam's parents had done to him years ago.
Sam reaches up and places a hand on his jaw, pressing a finger lightly against the tiny cut at the side of Jase's mouth, looking at him with hard eyes] That hurt?
Heh. Nah.. and waitin's not the same but I'll take it. [despite what appears to be lust in his gaze, he's looking at Sam with more than just heat right now.
Trying to get him to speak out, to say what he feels... be honest like his body is with him, every time they fuck now... or was it in his own head?]
Waited for me.. when you coulda found someone else to go? Was it that big a deal, or.. you just pissed off anyway? [was there more. He wanted to know, even if he didn't 'care'...]
[He just glares, his jaw tight.] I wanted to go with a friend, not a fucking... [He was going to say client, but it hits him like a slap in the face. Jase is his client. Maybe they're friends now... but he's still a client. They're not anything else. And he doesn't have any other friends to go with anyway. Just clients, just people who only hang out with him because they get to fuck him. And maybe he's misjudged this all along because maybe that's what Jase is, too.]
Get off me. [His voice is hurt and angry, more at himself than anyone else.] You don't give a fuck about me. You could've just said you didn't want to go and saved me the trouble.
Never said I didn't. [he says firmly, not giving an inch. In fact, by contrast, his hips press firmer.. a slow, dragging roll.
Not so much sensual as proprietory. He would have his say first, and Sam would listen.
His fingers cradled the back of his neck slowly a moment, ruffling his hair - smiling despite himself as he, again, noticed he did that way too much. But he didn't care.
This was a crazy night for him, so many things dawning on him and he just felt.. dazed inside, stoic to them. And that in turn made him darker, sterner in demeanour. He looked into his eyes, watchful and yet asking.. for something]
Hey.. tell me this. If I'm just some client to you... why'd you get this pissed off? Hm. [he wasn't psychic, but didn't have to be. It had been on his mind]
I didn't do it on purpose. I swear. But that's.. not the important thing right now like you're makin' it out to be, huh, kid?
His first reaction is worry. Maybe something had happened. After waiting, he'd finally given up and gone to Jase's house. His car was in the driveway and everything looked normal, and upon peeking through the windows, he saw Jase was sleeping. Sleeping. He'd blown Sam off to sleep.
Well. Sam had never claimed to be a nice person. Or a rational one. He was pissed. He paced the driveway for a moment before picking up a decently sized rock, going back to the window. Then he drew his arm back and threw it, watching it sail through the air and shattering the glass with an earsplitting crash.
He crossed his arms and waited. No one stood him up and got away with it.]
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He turned his eyes, gaze sharp, almost as if he'd expected it to be him - it would be someone he knew. He didn't move, smirking slowly. Then his arms raised, and spread, shirtless and lazy. Well done, kid. Feel big now?]
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Shut. Up. [he's already disrupted his shut-eye, and now...]
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Not thinking for a moment it would work, but he wanted to so he fucking would.
Licking slightly over the swell as he bit into it, he smirked slightly down at Sam] None. What you gonna do about it, huh?
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Sam is shoved down, right there, mere feet from the damage, the glass, out of sight with the line of the couch]
So.. you wanted to see me, huh? [he murmured, lips by his ear as he didn't quite pin him, but pressed his body along his] Why?
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Sam reaches up and places a hand on his jaw, pressing a finger lightly against the tiny cut at the side of Jase's mouth, looking at him with hard eyes] That hurt?
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Trying to get him to speak out, to say what he feels... be honest like his body is with him, every time they fuck now... or was it in his own head?]
Waited for me.. when you coulda found someone else to go? Was it that big a deal, or.. you just pissed off anyway? [was there more. He wanted to know, even if he didn't 'care'...]
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Get off me. [His voice is hurt and angry, more at himself than anyone else.] You don't give a fuck about me. You could've just said you didn't want to go and saved me the trouble.
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Not so much sensual as proprietory. He would have his say first, and Sam would listen.
His fingers cradled the back of his neck slowly a moment, ruffling his hair - smiling despite himself as he, again, noticed he did that way too much. But he didn't care.
This was a crazy night for him, so many things dawning on him and he just felt.. dazed inside, stoic to them. And that in turn made him darker, sterner in demeanour. He looked into his eyes, watchful and yet asking.. for something]
Hey.. tell me this. If I'm just some client to you... why'd you get this pissed off? Hm. [he wasn't psychic, but didn't have to be. It had been on his mind]
I didn't do it on purpose. I swear. But that's.. not the important thing right now like you're makin' it out to be, huh, kid?
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