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The Future Has a Way of Arriving Unannounced (Galen/Sam, PG-13)

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The Future Has a Way of Arriving Unannounced (Galen/Sam, PG-13)

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A Dinosaur and Kate Spade Shoes Fairytal
Title: The Future Has a Way of Arriving Unannounced
Pairing: Galen Tyrol / Sam Anders
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers for 4x11 - Sometimes a Great Notion, but occurs pre-series.
Prompt: Week 2 Prompts, inspired by quote, element, image, word, character, and song.
Summary: A glimpse of their lives.
Notes: Thanks to the awesome nursedarry for the beta.

Sam's eyes drifted lazily around the room from his view on the bed. His guitar leaned heavily against the wall in the corner. His clothes were clumped in little masses across the floor, while Galen's disgarded clothes were neatly folded on the chair by the bedroom door. Sam laughed to himself at Galen's fondness for tidiness even when they were stumbling around, not letting lips leave skin.

"I need to go to the market to get some fruit for later." Galen explained from the other side of the bed as he tried to lift himself up. His body was still tired, so he didn't get out of bed so much as flop his head back down on the pillow. The sunlight had already begun straining to enter through the thick curtains. Sam could only sum up the energy to turn his head away from the awful light of day.

"Why do you want to leave when the bed is all warm and I don't have to leave until next week?" Sam asked, his rough voice barely intelligible through the pillow he'd shoved his face into.

"Ellen and Saul are coming over for dinner. They want to see you before your tour starts." Tyrol made another effort to escape the comforts of the soft sheets and blankets.

"Well, I don't want to get out of this bed, so we can have the dinner right here." Sam could feel the mattress shifting as Galen got out, allowing the awful cold air to touch his skin.

"As much as Tory would enjoy that, she's not coming and Saul would rather stab himself in the eye. You'd better help me cook when I get back too."

"You are a shit cook," Sam rolled over into the heat Galen left behind. They both remembered the many times Galen had attempted to make a risotto. More than half of those attempts ended in small kitchen fires.

"Why is it I keep you around again?" Sam joked, the soft skin around his eyes crinkling as his face spread in a grin.

"You keep me around so I can take your beautiful photo." Galen offered, gesturing absently in the direction of the photo gracing the wall by their front door. At first Sam had refused to have his naked torso greet guests into their apartment, but Galen had held his ground. Winning the argument through the underhanded means of using his tongue, Galen framed the photo and Sam simply avoided looking at that 8x10 section of the wall. He might be the world's next biggest rock star, but he wasn't so vain as to worship his own body. He preferred to leave that up to Galen.

"No, that's not it." Sam said softly, bending his leg at the knee to swing it lightly side to side. He could play his own dirty war with Galen to keep him from going out for a few hours longer. The sheet that had been tangled in his legs slid down his calf, which caught Galen's eye as he turned from the closet where he'd been looking for a pair of clean pants.

"Right, I can also make you scream my name and pass out from sheer pleasure." Galen not only had a way with a camera, but also a way with words. The kind of way that made Sam's breath stutter deep in his throat.

"Yep, that's the one." Sam cheerfully agreed, using his toes to inch the sheet down his body. He hoped that Galen would appreciate his hard work from his new vantage point at the sink in the adjoining bathroom.

"No, no, no, that won't work, Sam. I'll deign to pick up a copy of Page Six if it will make you happy, but I need to get going." Galen said with false sweetness as he tried to find a matching jacket.

"Fuck that noise." Sam said with a put upon tone echoing in his voice.

"I'll get the Interview magazine with you on the cover then." Galen said, letting Sam pretend he didn't flip through gossip mags in the convenience store to see if there were any cute photos of them within the pages.

"Your photographs," Sam pointed out. "And you say I'm vain."

"If I were vain, I'd demand that you write a song about me that made sense." Galen laughed his way through his entire sentence, while putting on his socks. He knew he'd only be pulled in with Sam if he sat on the bed, so he tried to balance on one foot. The result made Galen look like an awkward flamingo, which made Sam laugh as well.

"Touché, my friend, touché." Sam acquiesced, knowing he'd lost the battle to the outside world. He knew Galen would be gone for less than an hour, but that was an hour lost as far as Sam was concerned. Galen sensed surrender as Sam, giving up all pretense of holding a pose, deflated into the sea of messy sheets.

"I," Galen said as he leaned over the bed to plant a sloppy kiss to Sam's forehead, "will", followed by a short kiss on the wrinkles next to Sam's left eye, "be", a light kiss on the top of Sam’s nose "right", a kiss that finally landed on Sam's lips, "back." This time a slightly longer kiss over restless lips that wanted more.

"Promise," Galen unknowingly lied as he picked up his glasses and walked out the bedroom door, leaving a smiling Sam to turn over and fall back to sleep.
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