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It was another evening and another successful show for Shoot From The Hip, with the addition of a guest star jazzing up their usual group dynamics. During their celebratory drinks afterwards, everyone was happy, though Luke had the odd feeling that Sam was looking at him a bit more than usual and spoke a bit less. Everyone was too buzzed with energy (and a tad drunk) for anything to seem weird, though. They talked through different parts of the show, reflecting on what worked well and what could have gone better, taking the chance to poke fun at each other in the process. They laughed together at AJ's rendition of 'Baby Back' and Sam's "yeah, my fucking legs!"
They eventually burnt through the high left from the show and decided to call it a night. Watching Tom and AJ give each other a hug and walk out, Luke turned to Sam.
"You all right getting home like this?" He asked, drawing Sam's gaze back onto him. In all fairness, Sam hadn't drunk as much as the others did tonight, but he still felt like asking. It looked like Sam had no intention of getting ready to leave.
"Hm? Oh, yeah, should be fine." Sam sounded somewhat dazed as he answered and ran a hand through his hair. He looked away again, which caused Luke to take a small step towards him. Luke inspected Sam more closely now that they were alone.
"What's the matter?" Luke asked, the concern in his voice evident. "Something on your mind?"
Sam looked down at Luke (just barely) for a moment. The tip of his tongue slowly rolled across the inside of his bottom lip as the gears in his head turned, thinking about what to say. They'd known each other for so long, he thought, so how could things still feel so different tonight?
The silence wasn't awkward between them, though Sam's reluctance to talk was starting to make Luke nervous. Even when Sam sometimes got broody, this felt a lot more serious. A part of Luke wished he had Tom and AJ back here to help decipher whatever was going on with Sam and help console him if needed, but he had the feeling that this was somehow related to himself, which was why he hadn't said anything when the others were still here.
Time itself seemed to have slowed until Sam very subtly shook his head, as if resigned, and pulled Luke into an embrace.
"Oh," Luke couldn't help but softly exclaim as he rest his palms on Sam's sturdy back. Hugging was such a normal thing for them, both during and outside shows – hell, they did a lot more than hugging during shows – but this was unexpected. It felt like Sam was clinging to him in case he was at risk of running away.
"Sorry," Sam finally said, his voice a little muffled, when Luke thought he wasn't going to explain. "I think I just need to get out of my head a bit."
"What do you mean?"
After a beat, Sam let go and pulled both hands through his hair again, looking into Luke's worried eyes. "I know it's all just acting, but... I don't know, for some reason the longform got to me a little tonight."
Luke's brow furrowed once more. They had done way too many shows to count all these years. They had plenty of deaths in their many improvised plays, and Sam was always the most casual with playing couples. If he was indeed talking about their gay soldiers plot line, Luke had not expected it to have such a big impact on him.
Sam wasn't making eye contact anymore, instead looking sideways at a shot glass he was fiddling with on the counter. He wasn't sure why he felt so empty after the longform tonight. There was something about holding a 'dying' Luke in his arms that felt too real, a hand on Luke's abdomen and Luke clinging to his arm. The way he'd gently laid his limp body down on the ground with reverence. Sam remembered not having time to think through that scene going into it, so seeing AJ 'stab' Luke made his jaw drop both in character and out. It was great for the plot, certainly, as evidenced by the audience's surprised cries, but it was also all a bit too convincing.
They were so far away from death in reality, it shouldn't have hit so hard. Maybe it was just Luke's exceptional acting skills. It did make Sam do a lot of thinking that night in between talking with the others – about his life, about death, about Luke, about how it might feel to lose him.
Sam treasured all his friends. Yet Luke was... He thought himself incredibly lucky to know someone so wonderful. So special. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to have that, and the life they built together, taken away.
"I'm glad you're alive," Sam eventually murmured, still not looking at Luke. It wasn't what he really wanted to say, but close enough.
"I'm here," Luke said simply with a comforting smile and put a hand on Sam's arm. "I'm not going anywhere."
Hearing Luke's gentle voice grounded Sam enough to smile as well. It was like a parent consoling a child after another one of their future dreams, and he could now finally believe it.
His mind drifted elsewhere. "Love doesn't have a shape," Sam slowly started to recite from the play, "love doesn't have dimension. Love doesn't have limits, and if you can reach for it..."
He trailed off, becoming transfixed by Luke's eyes gazing into his own.
"You grab hold with two hands and you never let go." Luke finished Sam's line as he would if they were on stage. He was also aware that, if they were on stage, this would probably be the point where Sam pulled him in by the neck and kissed him.
And that's exactly what Sam did.
Leaning back from the kiss, Luke gave a little sigh and then softly chuckled.
"What?" Sam whispered, somewhat breathless and worried by Luke's reaction. They usually laughed it off after kissing on stage, but this time...
"Was that real?" Luke asked back, though he didn't sound unsure of himself. Sam nodded a bit hesitantly.
"I guess I should be dying more often then, huh?"
"What-" Sam very lightly smacked Luke on the back of the head as the blond continued laughing. He had just gotten the image of Luke lying on the ground out of his head. Sam then pulled down the hand Luke was using to cover his mouth and held on to it.
"I really think this is real," he said, "and not just because it was real in the show. I think it made me realise that if, God forbid, anything did happen to you some day, and you're often so far away in fucking Spain, I don't want to only be telling you I love you when I'm holding you dying in my arms."
"I know." Luke reverted back to his content and assuring smile. "And I meant it when I said it on stage, too. I love you, whether you're an American veteran with wooden legs or not."
"Well then I better grab hold with two hands and never let go," Sam said before cupping Luke's face for another kiss, the memories of hurt from the play finally lost between their entwined lips.