#SamGabeHSAU --
"So, history test?" Gabriel was wandering the length of Sam's room, picking up his models and books with a vaguely interested eye. There wasn't anything particularly interesting there, but Sam was looking a little nervous nonetheless. Possibly because Gabriel himself was an unusual sight in his room.
"I swear to God," Sam complained loudly, "Mr. Singer must spend all his free time reading dusty old books trying to find obscure stuff to quiz us on."
"What do you MEAN that wasn't in the textbook? Id'jits!" Gabriel deadpanned in a perfect impression of the teacher, making Sam collapse in laughter. "That's his favorite word, right? I didn't know teachers were allowed to insult their students. We should call the School Board."
"Right after I pass this test, let's do that." Sam nodded solemnly and went back to Renaissance painters, while Gabriel practiced hip swings and sneers in the full-length mirror on the back of the door.
He stole a glance at Sam behind him. Lying on the bed on his stomach, head bowed, muttering Italian names to himself, he looked so vulnerable, so approachable and desirable, Gabriel had to clench his fists. Damn it, why did Sam have to be so out-and-out perfect? It didn't make this whole tragically carrying a torch thing much easier to bear.
He turned and walked up to the bed, snatching the textbook from beneath Sam's bowed head. A "hey!" burst from Sam's lips, but Gabriel ignored him, flipping pages.
"This would be a whole lot easier," he declared, "if Elvis were helping you study." He struck a pose. "Thankya very much. This next song is about Cardinal Richelieu."
"Dude, that's not even the right chapter," Sam said, but Gabriel held out a hand dismissively.
"Oh, I'm an evil bastard from long ago," Gabriel crooned, to no melody Sam could discern. Huffing, he got up off the bed and grabbed the book. Gabriel didn't let go, though, and they ended up in a comic tug of war that eventually landed them on the bed, grappling and laughing.
With Gabriel's hands wrapped around Sam's waist. With their faces dangerously close. With a self-conscious blush creeping into Sam's cheeks.
Gabriel took in a breath. Something dangerous was on the tip of his tongue.
"You boys OK up there?" came Mom's voice. "Don't hurt yourselves!"
Sam extracted himself from Gabriel's grasp. "You're so obnoxious," he said, panting for breath.
Gabriel fought for composure. "Uh, Sam? Can I ask you a favor?" It sounded even dumber out loud than it did in his head.
"Sure." Sam sobered up quickly. "What?"
"Could you come with me to the audition? You know. For moral support."
Sam nodded vigorously. "Of course." He smiled, and his smile changed the whole room. Maybe, even, Gabriel's whole life.