Chapter Sam Campbell #14
When Sam braces him, his hand cradling the bobbing head against himself, Thomas finally gives in to sleep.
It’s not exactly comfortable, but Sam takes a moment to sit with him, to study him.
Thomas breathes with his whole body—his chest expanding and contracting with no sound louder than a hushed sigh.
With one hand, Sam delicately rubs the Frenchman’s back. He maps out the corded muscles beneath his shirt, the bumps of his spine, the dips of his hips.
His other hand stays as still as possible, his fingers buried in the soft strands of Thomas's fine hair.
Despite how quickly he fell asleep, Sam knows Thomas would be much more comfortable splayed out on a bed than curled up in his lap.
He takes another moment to appreciate this rare moment of vulnerability before scooting both of them to the edge of the couch and pushing himself upright. Sam never skips leg day, but it still takes him a moment to readjust the hold he has on the weighted vest.
“Pourquoi?” Thomas asks, bleary-eyed. He wraps his legs around Sam’s middle, which helps distribute some of the weight.
“I’ve got you,” Sam replies with a hush. “It’s my turn to take care of you.”
Thomas nods and drifts off again. His arms slide to his sides, and his legs loosen without unhooking.
Sam navigates both of them through to the bedroom. He shifts the weight to free a hand and pulls back the covers on the right side of the bed. He’s almost hesitant to let Thomas go, but they both need to sleep.
When he tries to lay him down softly, Sam misjudges the distance and accidentally whacks Thomas’s head on the backboard.
“Sorry, sorry!” Sam whispers, sliding the body further down the mattress.
Thomas’s face scrunches up in discomfort, but hopefully he’ll forget about it by morning.
“Okay, well, buenas noches.” Sam pulls the covers back over Thomas, tucking him in. Now that he’s fully awake, he’ll be able to navigate his way back to his own hotel. “I’ll see you in Canada.”
Before he can leave, Thomas scrambles upright. “Quoi?” He concentrates for a moment and says, “You stay.”
“I have my own bed to sleep in.” His own hotel, even.
“S’il te pla?t.” Thomas pats the area beside him. “Please?”
Sam exhales. He’s a bit over his head, but he has to sleep somewhere, so why not here? He sets an alarm on his phone and pulls back the covers to slide between the cold sheets.
They've slept together before, but it feels different when he hasn’t just orgasmed. Feels like something a real couple would do.
Thomas turns away, and Sam tempers his disappointment. What did he expect? A cuddle session? Grow up.
But then Thomas scoots backwards until their bodies are pressed against each other. “Bonne nuit.”
“Yeah, um…” There’s nowhere else for Sam to put his arm but to drape it over Thomas’s middle.
This is nice. It’s warmer than he remembers the position being, but it’s been a long time since Sam’s been in the type of relationship that involved spooning. He missed it.
Just in case Thomas returns to his senses when he wakes up, Sam squeezes him, holding him tighter to his chest. The soft hair tickles his nose, but the steady breathing motion lulls him closer and closer to sleep.
Sam leans forward and presses a kiss to Thomas’s shoulder. It’s scary how natural it feels to do so.
Thomas sighs, sinking deeper into the mattress, and Sam drifts off right behind him.
This one’s an easy one, at least. Sam looks up from the card and asks, “How many languages do I speak?”
“More than two, definitely.” Lucas takes a moment, counting on his fingers “Maybe three? Four?”
The sponsor’s stern-faced content producer raises his hand. “You have to choose one—three or four?”
“Four,” Lucas decides.
Sam can’t lie this time. God forbid he names a language and someone actually expects him to speak it.
“Yeah, nah, I’m not that smart.” He laughs it off like it’s not another question Lucas has gotten wrong. “Just one language for me.”
Again, the producer’s hand pops up. “Which one?”
“Which one what?”
“Language.”
It’s such a profoundly stupid question that Sam can’t help but answer, “Brazilian Portuguese. Can’t understand anything else.”
Lucas laughs and shuffles to the next card. “Where do I live?”
“Germany.” Boom, done, next.
“Can you be more specific?” the producer asks.
“I can, but he lives in a pretty small town. Probably better to protect his privacy.”
It’s not this guy’s fault Sam’s in a bad mood, but he’s definitely not helping.
“Nearest major city?”
Sam turns to Lucas. “You live north of Hamburg, in Germany.”
“Correct!” Lucas tosses the card and it flutters to the ground. “But that one's easy, since you visit so often.”
Sam scoffs. “Like once or twice a year. How often do I speak a language that isn’t English?”
“You greet people everywhere we go!”
“That’s just good planning!”
With context, it makes a little more sense how Lucas could’ve gotten it wrong. Sam might be a little on edge about him lately, for some reason.
“Alright, an easy one.” Sam shuffles until he gets to the basic bitch drivers’ questions. “What’s my favorite track?”
“Australia.” Lucas looks proud of himself. “At least I got something right.”
Sam's face falters before Sammy Smiles kicks in. “You’re right! Point for Lucas.”
It’s fine. Stupid trivia questions don’t matter. There’s no reason Lucas has to know everything about Sam, he can learn.
It’s just—
The more wrong answers Sam has to cover up for, the more alone he feels.
Sam’s still thinking about it, still running through the answers in his head during the fan stage, the press line, and all the way back to his hotel room. It’s stupid, really, the questions were just surface level things.
Still, he can’t shake the unease he feels.
“Stupid question,” he types out. “Do you know how many siblings I have?”
He sends it before he can come to his senses.
Thomas
You don’t have siblings
His reply is almost immediate and Sam smiles.
You sound really sure
Because I am
Unless your parents have been busy in the off-season
Ew, don’t talk about Sam’s parents like that.
Do you know where I live?
Not the building or anything
You are still in Monte Carlo, no?
What’s my favorite animal?
How the fuck would I know that?
Guess
Dog? You had dogs when we were little
You had a horse too? I still think dogs
I didn’t even think of horses, that’s a good one
Am I filling out a survey for you?
Maybe
How many languages do I speak?
1.01
What’s the .01???
Your Spanish
Hahaha
You mean “jajaja”
Okay, funny guy
My favorite track?
Spa
How do you know that?
It is one of the most common questions for drivers
Yeah, but how do you know mine?
You must have said it at some point
What is mine?
Monaco?
See? You pick it up
What is this about?
Nothing
Lucas got them all wrong
ALL of them
All he knows about me is that I’m from Australia
2, Sydney, kangaroos, 2, Albert Park?
Are you a psychic??
He guessed 4 for languages
He gives you more credit than I do
Something similar happened with Rafael