#EDIT: idk why I put gen z I just realized I did and I didn’t mean gen z literally don’t know why that was in the original post

[moghedien]

really well meaning liberal sff writers are my enemies because I was listening to a writing podcast a long time ago and one of them was complimenting the queer representation of some book (don't remember the book and this is not against whatever book that was) because there was like off the page sex scenes with queer characters and the author was like "and then it faded to black. Which is right, because their sex is none of OUR business." like this was years ago and I still think about this and get mad

like fuck me, I wanna see gay sex I wanna see trans sex I wanna see it explicitly on the page and in detail. you would never say that "its none of our business" line about cishet sex. like this is clearly a bizarre spectacle to you and that being the case isn't everyone else's fault and every time one of yall say shit like this I'm adding another graphic queer sex scene to my SFF

[prblynvr]

hey hey hey hey so like..... “great. perfect. nice. Fuck this” for the 5 word prompts??? eldonado preferably???? I loved ur last fic and like.......... angst please 💛💛

dretfgyui okay so i totally failed at angst, but have a kind of broken down version of this prompt! i wanted to try an exercise in recognizing jealousy in different ways and i sorta maybe did it? idk, but i hope you enjoy! read it here on ao3

feel free to send me more 5 word prompts!

It wasn’t very often- and there was usually a catalyst- but Sam realized that sometimes Peter was incredibly selfish.

It was never in an obvious ‘hoards wealth and resources from the less fortunate’ way, but rather in a utterly human and teenage way. And Sam knows he’s shouldn’t be one to scorn others- lest he become a complete hypocrite- but Peter has always been an oddball. So naturally, the ways his selfishness showed up wouldn’t be that of a Typical Teenager.

The first thing Sam noticed was that Peter was selfish with his time. He would turn down Sam for an after school hang out because he had a test the next day he needed to study for and No, Sam. You’ll just distract me so you can’t help me study. Even if he knew Sam had actually understood Macbeth, he still wouldn’t let him help.

He would spend time on what he wanted, feeding his drive to be successful at video making by losing countless hours of sleep over edits that don’t need to be done for days. He knew that he had to manage himself, and a lot of the time Sam felt like Peter was isolating himself because of it.

Next Sam noticed how selfish Peter was with his belongings- especially with others. He was selfish with his electronics- rarely letting people touch his laptop, phone, or camera. Sam was one of the few who had an all access pass to Peter’s stuff. Maybe it was part of the Gen Z/Millenial need for privacy in an extremely public era, but Peter seemed to take it up a notch. Sometimes, he would get huffy if Sam so much as turned the volume up when they were editing together, reaching around Peter to touch the keyboard himself.

Most important of all, Sam realized Peter was selfish with his feelings. His resting bitch face was widely known and those that interacted with him on a daily basis knew that Peter was not one to emote in blatant ways. Sure, he was defensive of his insecurities and could be provoked by outside sources, but his robot-esque exterior was hard to crack if the response wasn’t anger or rage. Peter hoarded his emotions and bottled them up tight, waiting for a day he could explode and blame it on something that happened, rather than deep seated repression and the hormonal imbalances of a 16 year old body.

It was one particular afternoon that Sam realized jealousy in Peter could be monstrous. In that moment, Sam thought Peter was being extremely unfair. He knew better than most what mood Peter was in at every given moment- it comes with the best friend territory- but he had rarely seen Peter like this, and never directed at Sam. There were targets of this sort of passive-aggression in the past, but Sam has never been on the receiving end. It seemed insane to Sam once he finally figured out what new emotion he was picking up  from Peter.

What would drive someone into an almost manic state, enough so that he would make an exposé on his best friend? Of course Sam understood the principle of the situation- evaluating your own bias- but why did he have to bring Gabi into this? Why did he have to act so smug when presenting the video, like he had placed the final piece of the puzzle that was Sam? Why did he have to smirk at Sam while he presented it, driving Sam up a wall in absolute frustration?

He’s jealous, Sam thought later that night. Not ‘he’s just jealous’- writing the interaction off as a petty emotion, but rather a full statement of truth. Sam had come to realize that something in Peter was deeply bothered by his friendship with Gabi. And now it was in the doc- for all to see and assume from.

And the kicker of it all was that Sam wasn’t in love with Gabi, not at all. He was in love with Peter.

Great.

—-

Eventually- meaning several days later after Peter reached the end of his rope and made a breakthrough on the video from Nana’s party- Sam and Peter were talking again. They were talking to each other about the case. About the dicks. And that was it. There was only one aborted apology between the two which helped ease them back into casual conversation, but the thrill of the mystery was a good jumping off point.

Then the mystery was over. The case had been finished, albeit not completely solved. Dylan had still proven to be an idiot, even though his friendly and sweet nature had grown on Sam, just not as much as it had grown on Peter. Netflix had swooped in and suddenly Peter and Sam were expected to be actual professionals who do things for their productions, rather than pass out after finally finishing edits at 3 A.M. and just posting the damn thing.

The Netflix party was swanky, if Sam’s standards were anything to go by. Sam had always assumed his first suit would have been for prom, yet here he was, summer between Sophomore and Junior year, decked out in formal wear. Peter was fidgeting next to him looking unfairly good. His suit wasn’t as fashionable as Sam’s, but it didn’t matter. Sam was attracted to Peter when he was awake in the middle of the night, decked in sweatpants and a whole day’s worth of face grease. So when Peter put in the effort, Sam’s heart beat just a little bit faster.

Peter kept biting his lip and it was driving Sam kind of crazy. His hair wasn’t flopping in his face like usual, courtesy of a small bit of product, his eyebrows were actually contained and his stupid long-

“…eyelashes.”

“Sorry, what?” Peter asked leaning into Sam’s space and asking loudly in his ear.

“What?” Sam replied.

Did I really say that outloud?

“You just said something but I missed it.”

“Oh, yeah I- just uhhh said…. uh…. there’s a lot of flashes.”

Good save.

“Yeah, there’s a lot of cameras here tonight.” Peter commented, leaning further into Sam. He slipped his arm over Sam’s shoulder as they continued their circuit around the room. “Are you okay? Not too nervous?”

“Oh, my dude,” Sam said jostling back into Peter, “I am living it up! Look at what we’ve created!”

“It’s crazy to think that 27 dicks could have done this.”

Sam laughed, leaning into Peter further.

Even if I can’t tell him, at least I still have this.

Although Sam was an extrovert who enjoyed meeting new people and being around many at once, tonight felt different. This wasn’t just a party, it was a professional party- one that seemed to drain him with every passing minute instead of fill him with excitement.

“I’m going to go get a drink,” Sam said slipping out of Peter’s arm. “Want anything?”

“No, I’m good. I’ll find you in a bit.”

Sam walked away, shooting Peter a set of finger guns accompanied by a grin before scooting towards the bar. The line wasn’t too long, but all he wanted at that moment was some water and a place to sit down. Sam was taking stock of the three people in front of him in line, patiently waiting to get refreshments as well, when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

“Excuse me? Are you Sam Ecklund?” A voice from behind him asked.

He turned his head and shoulders just enough to see a blonde, vaguely familiar girl. She was dressed as if she had a reason to be at the party and maybe she did. Sam only really knew Peter and a handful of the Netflix representatives there. Besides that, he had no idea what the guest list was.

“Oh, uh- yeah that’s me.” He said, finding her eyes. In a split second he schooled himself into standing up straighter and faking a little enthusiasm. The night had been incredibly long so far, but he and Peter had stayed up later.

Just half an hour, he promised himself, half an hour then you can probably convince Peter to leave.

“Oh, awesome! I just wanted to tell you how much I loved your work on the doc. Like Peter was always so serious but you really stole the show with the comedy aspect!”

“Yeah he seems that way, but Peter’s really just a big jokester too.” Sam said, feeling a little hurt that she would think insulting Peter would gain her favor with him.

“Hah okay, I mean sure, but you really did a great job. Like, without you I don’t think Peter would have ever solved the case.”

Some part of Sam agreed with her- he and Peter were a partnership. But there was something about the way she just kept dismissing Peter that almost pushed Sam over the edge. If he were in a cartoon, you would see his eye twitching in annoyance as this girl continued to talk.

“Nah, Pete’s brilliant. He could have gotten it himself- eventually.”

The girl laughed loudly and brightly, like Sam had said some hysterical joke rather than just a plain comment. Her hand came to rest on his elbow as she continued to giggle. His insides were suddenly knotting up as his eyes flit around the room. Finally, they landed on Peter, who was milling about on his own.

“You’re too funny Sam. Guys with humor are so attractive. Like, there’s just something about you that’s drawing me in. Y’know?”

Peter still wasn’t looking at him so Sam looked back at the girl. The line moved and Sam was able to politely shrug off her hand as he stepped forward. Instead of taking the hint, she simply stepped closer.

“Uh…,” he said, eyes moving and finally connecting with Peter. He widened his eyes and put on a nervous smile. He hoped Peter would come over and interrupt the conversation with some emergency so he could make a quick get away, or at least text him a meme to cheer him up. The line moved again, causing him to have to look away from Peter for a moment

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the night,” she pressed. He stepped further away. “Any cool after party or fun events a girl looking for a good time should know about?”

Saying ‘falling asleep in the same room as my best friend/crush’ probably wasn’t the best way to respond to her question and Sam was a bit stuck.

“Well-”

“Hey Sammy! Thanks for holding our spot.” Suddenly Peter was right next to him, sliding into the space between this girl and Sam.

“Perfect timing.” Sam hoped Peter could feel the waves of gratitude he was trying to beam straight into his psyche.

“Yeah, I forgot to ask for a water before you left. I don’t think I should be having anymore caffeine tonight.” He joked. Sam took a moment to study Peter’s face as a smile carefully graced his lips. It was a publicity smile, one Sam knew he practiced in the mirror as to not look like a murderer when he was in the press. It was one Peter used when trying to be polite without offending anyone.

But, his eyes were crinkled just slightly- something Peter’s public smile never had. That was a private smile, one reserved for his mother or for when he discovered a clue he had been trying to track for days. It was a movement that happened only in the close vicinity to those he trusted. It was just another thing Sam loved about Peter.

“Hi.” A voice cut in- and just like that, Sam’s internal monologue that was about to categorize everything about Peter that drove him crazy was cut short.

“Oh sorry,” Peter said, extending his hand to the girl, “Peter Maldonado.”

“Pleasure,” she said, quickly shaking his hand before stepping back. Sam slung his arm around Peter’s shoulder as he dropped her hand.

“My friend here was just asking about if I knew of any good after parties.” Sam said. “I didn’t quite know how to tell her our boring plans for the night.”

“Well, you are the stars of the show tonight,” she laughed, “And my name is Allison. Allison Keller. But you can call me Alli.” She scooted away from Peter and seemed to gravitate back towards Sam.

“Well Allison, we’d love to help you,” Peter said. Sam watched Allison’s face flit through a range of emotions before landing on a passive smile. “But Sam and I have to get ready for an early flight tomorrow so we’re going to head out soon anyway.”

Suddenly it was their turn at the bar. Peter turned them around enough to ask for two waters before slipping his arm around Sam’s waist and whispering in Sam’s ear, “You okay to leave now?”

Please don’t be blushing right now. Please don’t be blushing right now. Please don’t be blushing right now.

Sam grabbed the two water bottles before turning back to Allison to say, “It was great talking to you but we’re going to head out. Enjoy the rest of your night!”

They walked away without waiting for a response. Sam dropped his arm from Peter’s shoulder, but Peter’s stayed put around his waist until they were near the door. Once they were clear of the room, Peter finally dropped his arm. They chatted a bit about the party as they left and made their way back to their hotel for the night, but not about Allison. Sam wasn’t sure if Peter wanted to avoid the topic all together and didn’t want to be the one to bring it up.

Peter’s mom was in the adjoining room to theirs as they made their way in.

“Hi boys, how was the rest of the event?”

“It was great, Mom,” Peter said, poking his head through the door to her room.

“Yeah, it was crazy how many people were there,” Sam added, shucking off his tie and jacket as he moved into the room.

“Any crazy things happen after I left?”

“No-”

“Sammy got hit on by some girl.”

“Hey! Why is that so crazy?” Sam responded as he heard Ms. Maldonado’s laughter coming from the other room.

“Not crazy that it happened, Sam,” she said, “Peter, be nice.”

“Yeah Pete, be nice,” Sam joked knocking Peter through the doorway. “I’m a catch, dontcha know?”

Peter laughed small but bright. His polite public smile was shed for a real one, lips slightly turned up as he giggled. His eyes were locked with Sam’s as they stood in the doorway, each leaning against the opposite jam. Peter’s nose crinkled for a second as he used it to move his glasses up his face. Sam’s traitorous heart began beating way too fast.

“Well, I think I’m going to turn in. I am beat! Night, Ms. Maldonado.” He finally turned away from Peter to look at his mother. He waved at her as she said “Good night!”

Sam bumped Peter again on his way back into their room, the contact sending a spark through his shoulder. Peter walked all the way into his mom’s room as Sam went about changing into his pajamas. By the time Sam was ready for bed and back out into the room, Peter had changed and was lounging on his bed. The door between the two rooms was shut, leaving Peter and Sam alone again. Sam turned off the lights flopped down on his own bed. The TV softly hummed in the background, casting Peter in soft light as he turned and faced Peter.

“Thanks for doing that, by the way,” Sam said, “That girl was driving me up the wall.”

“Yeah, of course dude.”

Sam laughed. “Like usually I’m okay with talking to girls, but she was just terrible! I didn’t expect you to get so… possessive though. She probably thinks we’re like dating now.” Sam’s brain to mouth filter had apparently taken an eternal holiday, since it would have never let him actually turn his honest to god feelings into the butt of his own joke. An intense sense of dread sent a rock to the bottom of his stomach as he clenched his jaw.

Luckily, Peter just laughed. “Yeah, well, she was getting a little too friendly with you.” The end of his sentence was more of a mumble than anything.

Sam hadn’t missed it, but being one never to let Peter off the hook he said, “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.”

Peter huffed before he spoke, “I mean, she was touching your arm and being all… I don’t know. It’s dumb.” He rolled back over facing away from Sam.

“Dude, it’s not dumb. She wasn’t even being very nice about you so I don’t know why you’d be nice about her.”

“What do you mean?”

“She was all, ‘Oh Sam, you’re so funny. You’re way better than Peter!’” He could feel Peter rolling his eyes from across the room.

“Yeah, okay whatever, I get it. You didn’t need me.” Peter pulled the blanket more over himself and turned onto his back.

“Hey,” Sam called out, “I’m serious. She tried to compliment me by insulting you. Like, what kind of plan is that? You’re my best friend. Bros before hoes, dude.”

“Aww, dude.”

“And I thanked you for your help. I was too tired to come up with an excuse. So like, if you were jealous of her you have no reason to be.”

Just the thought of Peter being jealous over some girl drove Sam a bit wild. But Peter just hummed in response and the conversation was over. It hadn’t gone perfectly, but things rarely did with Peter. Sam had said his piece, and maybe Peter believed him, maybe he didn’t. But Sam knew that Peter had been jealous. He knew that even if Peter didn’t reciprocate his exact feelings, he was still feeling strongly enough to react so fiercely. He even pulled out his press smile just to help Sam out of a sticky situation.

So it wasn’t perfect, but Sam thought it was nice.

Perfect. Nice. What’s the difference?

—

Sam had been content to let it sit. He had been fine with Peter and him living out their lives as film partners/best friends until they retired rich and powerful. All throughout their second season, living with Peter was driving him wild. They weren’t just some weird sort of hometown heroes anymore, they were certifiable documentarians, and with that came a very different sense of self.

They had been out of practice for almost 2 years. The schedule and filming and equipment were different, but when they lights went out, it was just Peter, Sam, and their subject. Watching Peter light up the room and run down an interview like it was a sneaky interrogation drove a spike in Sam’s resolve. It had been a long time since he realized his feelings for Peter. It had been a long time since he realized that maybe- just maybe- there was a chance Peter liked him back. So why was he so scared?

It all came to a head one night when planning for the next day’s shoot. They were going to return to St. Bernardine’s the next day to do some more interviews of the students there and finish out the afternoon by returning to Kevin’s. It was going to be a typical shooting day, nothing out of the ordinary - if you think documenting poop crimes wasn’t out of the ordinary.

They had mapped out their route, let the crew know of the plan, then gotten ready to eat. So far, they had mostly made it on pre-cooked meals or take out, but tonight was different. Tonight, Peter Maldonado decided he was going to cook dinner. For Sam. (Well, for them both, but it was only them.)

Oh fuck.

Sam caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove as he listened to a podcast playing from his phone. He had told Sam he was going to cook, which recently meant either Ramen, Kraft Mac & Cheese, or frozen chicken nuggets, but tonight meant some pasta dish that wasn’t recognizable. Peter was cooking chicken in one pan while boiling pasta in a pot.

“What’s this?” Sam asked from where he was lurking in the doorway.

Peter jumped a bit before turning to meet Sam’s eye, “I was tired of the packaged stuff and asked my mom for some suggestions.”

Sam smiled at him before asking, “Need any help?” He was quickly swept up in Peter’s instructions to cut up some vegetables to be cooked after the chicken. They carefully moved around each other as they prepared the meal, commenting on the podcast playing as they went, and in what felt like no time at all, they were done. Sam moved to plate the pasta and set it on the counter by Peter who then added the sauce, chicken, and vegetables. It was all extremely domestic, and far too much for Sam’s traitorous brain to handle.

‘What if-’s began flooding his mind with unplanned scenarios of a life he didn’t feel like could ever truly be his. Lives unattainable, yet so powerful to him, he was jealous over his fictional self for living them.

What if we were already dating and I could grab his hand right now as we ate? What if we lived together and cooked dinner together every night? What if the documentary never happened? What if I never talked to him that first day in middle school?

With every question he would imagine a scenario with the same ending. He and Peter would still be together, still a dynamic duo that could accomplish anything. They would spend as much time together and were dedicated to each other. The journey would be different, but the ending the same.

What if I told him?

The last one stuck with Sam the most. In all seriousness, he wasn’t sure the answer to the question, and he couldn’t exactly predict what Peter’s response would be, but he was falling deeper down the rabbit hole trying to be realistic. All through dinner, Sam’s mind kept wandering to how that night could go. How maybe he could just grab Peter’s hand and tell him. Maybe he could. Maybe.

They finished up and began cleaning- back to domestic chores. Peter collected the dishes as Sam rolled up his sleeves to get to work scrubbing the pots and pans used. As he finished, Peter moved to taking them from Sam and drying them off. Sam had two more pots to go and his heart was beating- hungry for some sort of emotional resolution.

Fuck this.

“Hey Pete?”

He hummed a response.

“I…” Sam lost his resolve. He had been so ready to finally come clean, but this wasn’t a fantasy. This was real life and once he said his piece, there was no going back.

Then Peter’s eyes met his and he asked, “What’s up, Sammy?”

“I like you, Peter. Like, in a more than friends way- and not a ‘bro, I like you, no homo’ like- I mean- a full homo- a full homo way.” The words tumbled out of his mouth and he watched as Peter’s expression turned from something soft and open, to something charged.

His eyes squinted just a bit as his mouth opened ever so slightly. Sam waited for Peter to respond, to say something- anything - but he didn’t. All Peter did was set down the pot he was drying off, wipe his hands on his jeans, push his glasses up his face, and kiss Sam in one swift movement.

Wait - what?

He had missed slightly, lips landing closer to the corner of Sam’s mouth rather than square on, but with his mouth came his hands. They cradled Sam’s face, adjusting the angle so that they met perfectly this time. Sam’s brain finally caught up to the situation, causing him to drop the pan into the sink and splash them both with soapy water.

His hands clutched at Peter’s waist as he responded in full. They pulled back a second later, wet and soapy. Peter’s shirt has wet splotches and wrinkles where Sam’s hands had been, as well as an assortment of other spots resulting from Sam’s poor reflexes.

“So… like…do you-”

“I full homo you too, Sammy.” Peter said, laughing his way through the end.

Sam just smiled back and pulled him in again - wet shirt and dished be damned.