Prompt: First dates can be frightening and exciting at the same time. June's challenge will be the beginning of something. New love to lasting love in a bubble of Happily Ever After.

Theme: First Love

Pairing: Sam/Harry

Fandom: Harry Potter/ Supernatural

Word Count: 5814

Post Dates: June 1- 30st :)

Warnings/Tags: SLASH, Crossover AU, One-Shot, Romance, Boys in love, First Date, Snark, Language, Jess/Sam friendship, Tea abuse, First kiss, Grumpy Harry

Tea for Two

It was all the damn stray dog's fault.

Sam Winchester had been taught from an early age to notice things out of place in everyday life and routine. So when a chocolate brown Labrador, scruffy looking and entirely too skinny started following him around Stanford campus, he was inclined to be suspicious rather than charmed or sympathetic. It never approached him or ventured close enough for Sam to get more than a glimpse of it, but it haunted his steps with rather unnerving tenacity. It was there when he went from class to class. It was there outside the dining hall. It skulked around outside his dorm building. It had become something of a private obsession for Sam to watch the dog whenever it was in his line of sight.

So perhaps it was understandable that Sam's attention was otherwise occupied when he tripped over another student on his way back to the dorms one Thursday afternoon. Although 'tripped over' was rather too ambiguous a phrase in this case. It was more like Sam stumbled over his own foot, because he wasn't watching where he was walking, and then instinctively flailed to grab at something to prevent his face from kissing the sidewalk. Unfortunately, what Sam grabbed was some other guy's arm, yanking it viciously as he tried to keep his balance, causing the scalding hot tea held by the other to upend all down the front of Sam's poor victim.

There was a short, sharp bellow of pain, and then a very pissed British voice verbally flaying him. "You stupid, clumsy Wanker! Watch where the bloody hell you're tromping!"

Sam hastily straightened himself up as best he could, releasing the other man's arm. "I'm sorry! Sorry! Are you alright?!" Sam momentarily lost his voice as his brain finally registered what he was seeing standing in front of him. Looking ready to set him on fire with his glare, if he could get away with it.

The other man was a few inches shorter than Sam himself, (which wasn't surprising because he was over six foot,) was of slim but athletic build, with messy dark hair, bangs hanging down partly in his line of vision, and green eyes of a shade Sam had never seen before. Perched on the Brit's nose was a set of gold wire-rimmed glasses, artfully surrounding a tired gaze aimed in Sam's direction. Those startling eyes were narrowed into slits, and a furious scowl curled pink lips as his jaw clenched with gritted teeth. The other man was dressed casually in battered grey and white sneakers, faded blue jeans and an open dark red button down over a white T-shirt, the front of which was now soaked with the remnants of whatever liquid had been in the Starbucks cup on the ground.

Sam's breath caught in his throat, shocked, but unable to deny the instant, fierce attraction that welled up out of nowhere, to the man in front of him. His wide hazel eyes and frozen deer in headlights expression didn't do him any favors with the young man he'd nearly bowled over.

Sam couldn't shake the overwhelming sensation of Recognition that thrummed throughout his body, leaving goosebumps all over his skin, and every hair standing up on his body. Magic, thick and heavy hung in the air around them, and it made his heart race, not with the normal adrenaline spike of fear, but anticipation. It was different from any other Magic he had ever encountered. Demon worshiping witches felt oily and noxious. This was entirely different. It felt light, sweet in comparison, and reminded Sam of all things he found comforting and safe. It was such a foreign sensation, echoing deep in his blood, and somehow deeper still beyond that.

If he believed in soul mates, Sam would associate the strange Recognition to something like that. But he didn't believe. At least, he didn't before. Now, the ex-Hunter didn't know what to make of it. Sam knew instinctively from years of experience training with his father and brother, that this was something that definitely felt supernatural. However, he did not feel threatened, or the need to be defensive. No matter the other man's clear anger at Sam's klutziness.

"I'm fine. No thanks to you." The handsome man growled at him, in that entirely unfairly sexy accent. "Now go away, you great lummox!"

Green eyes spat fire at Sam as the Brit bent down to scoop the, now empty, Starbucks cup up off the ground and stomped passed. Sam could hear him swearing under his breath as he moved down the sidewalk, tossing the cup in the nearby trash bin as he went. While Sam stood there, staring at the other man's back like a shell shocked idiot. His brain still trying desperately to piece together what had just happened, to make any logical sense of it.

"Nice going, Winchester."

Sam nearly came out of his skin as he jumped, whirling around to fix his eyes on Jessica, an attractive blond from his English class, who he had made fast friends within the first few weeks on campus. She was fiery, snarky and wickedly intelligent. All traits that endeared her to Sam very quickly. She was also, sometimes entirely too perceptive and meddlesome for his liking.

"Uhm..." Was his intelligent response to her dry as the Sahara quip.

Her pale blue eyes twinkled at him as her mouth twitched from suppressed laughter. "You've been so distracted lately. I'm not surprised something like this happened. Although did you have to nearly trample the hot Brit?"

"Uh…" Was his hopeless rebuttal, already not liking where this was going.

Jess shook her head and grabbed his hanging arm, and tugged him into walking beside her. "You are hopeless; you know that? It's like talking to a giant puppy. Cute, but really stupid sometimes."

"Hey!" The forward motion of her pull knocked his brain out of its gibbering circles. With this 'Harry' bringing to light some new startling information to consider, the mangy brown Labrador faded completely from his mind.

"Oh, so you are capable of speech then?" She asked him with saccharine falsity and big eyes batting blond lashes at him.

Uh oh. He knew that falsely innocent flutter of her lashes all too well. He'd watched her treat several guys on campus to it before she had verbally, and usually publically, unmanned them in spectacular ways. It made fear curl, cold and heavy, in his gut.

"Jess." Sam groused.

She waved him off dismissively, voice near wiggling in excitement as she carried on. "That absolutely adorable, and fine, piece of British ass you just nearly flattened all over the ground was Harry Potter. An exchange student from England. And don't think I didn't see you checking out that yummy backside of his, Winchester."

"I wasn't…!" He scrambled to protest, his voice nearly squeaking out, much to his mortification. She grinned at him, all threatening pearly white teeth, and punched him in his left arm. Hard.

"Liar! I have eyes that work buddy!" Jess side eyed him consideringly, and Sam nearly groaned in horror. He knew that look. She was plotting. "I didn't know you swung that way, Sam."

"Neither did I." He mumbled, unable to suppress a blush as he looked anywhere but at his friend.

She arched a blonde eyebrow at him, her gaze turning calculating. Now he was starting to seriously feel paranoid. Jessica plotting meant trouble, usually for Sam. "Oh, really."

He shuffled his feet awkwardly, not wanting to talk about his recent discovery until he had some time to wrap his brain around it himself. "Can we talk about something else now? Like the term paper for Professor Kannis?"

Jessica scrunched up her button nose in utter disgust. "Ugh. That woman. She's a demon, I swear!"

Sam snorted in morbid amusement, mentally noting that Jess really had no idea what was out in the world, and that he was sorta glad she was so naive. "She's really not. She's just strict."

"She's a horrible, lonely old bat; hell bent on making everyone else around her miserable in any way she possibly can. And don't think I didn't notice that piss poor change of subject Mr. Winchester."

Sam shrugged his shoulders lazily, flashing unrepentant puppy eyes at her. "The term paper Jess?"

She stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, pointing a deceptively dainty finger at him accusingly. "See this? This right here. This is why we would never work out. You need to get your priorities straight mister."

Sam rolled eyes, a wry smirk tugging the corner of his mouth without his input. "Yea whatever. Has nothing at all to do with you crushing on Tall, Dark and Dreamy Donovan Pierce from your Chem class does it, Jess?"

"Hush your blasphemous mouth!"

Over the coming weeks, Sam seemingly forgot all about his brief encounter with the English exchange student, but the truth of the matter was that the meeting never strayed far from the former Hunter's thoughts. His unexpected attraction to the other man had rattled Sam. In all his previous years, he had never before done more than glance at another male, acknowledge they were attractive in a distant, abstract sort of way, and promptly forget about them.

It got bad enough that the snarky Brit started invading his dreams. Not in a carnal manner, surprisingly, but it other small, random ways. Sam would be aware of his presence in the background. Or he would catch a snippet of Harry's voice, though the words were never clear. There would sometimes be a flash of his unusual green eyes, so very different from the green of his brother Dean's. Little things that had nothing to do with anything going on within the dreamscape, but would ultimately derail everything, and send Sam chasing figments of a ghost until he was jarred awake by the alarm on his phone.

Surprisingly, Jess backed off on her teasing during that time. Which really should have tipped Sam off to her scheming, but he was distracted by a distinct lack of sleep, and an intense course load of work as they were heading into mind-terms. In between all of this, Sam was doing what he did best to relieve the stress of his new perspective on his now cloudy sexuality. He did research.

What he found both alarmed and strangely, reassured him. Having grown up with only John, Dean and Bobby as consistent male influences in his life, Sam was introduced to the idea of Women at a relatively young age. The concepts of a sexuality alternative to Heterosexuality wasn't something he was much exposed to. That's not to say he was completely clueless. He didn't live under a rock after all. He was aware of other students in the many schools he bounced through being gay, lesbian, or even bisexual. But no one close to him was anything other than straight, as far as he knew. He'd never given it much thought. All anyone ever talked about were women.

Looking back on it, Sam supposed that had he subconsciously fallen into the role that was unspokenly expected of him. Dean had never asked if Sam liked any boys, but he always asked or teased his little brother about girls. Neither John nor Bobby ever asked at all. He didn't know what to do with his new information, so he just kept researching, hoping some resolution would present itself to him.

Sam completely blamed his brother Dean for the next bit of his research, even if the other man wasn't there to be aware of it. Curious, the ex-Hunter began poking around at different porn sites. He figured that attraction didn't mean much if the physical acts that seemed to go hand in hand with it disgusted him. Being cautious, he started with videos that were pretty tame. Guys were jacking eachother off or giving blow jobs. With mixed feelings, he discovered that these videos ended up being the very opposite of disgusting. They elicited the same level of sexual response in him that Sam would have to a couple of women in the same positions.

With trepidation, Sam moved deeper into his video search. Without his realizing it, an entire weekend disappeared within what felt like the blink of an eye. By that next Monday morning, Sam was both slightly overwhelmed by the education his research provided, and suffering from some serious chafing in his nether regions. He'd never been so grateful for that lack of a roommate before.

His conclusions were inescapable. Sam Winchester was very much bi-sexual. Now if he could just figure out what to do with this revelation. Knowing something, and applying that knowledge were too very different things. He didn't know the first thing about flirting with men, and he seriously doubted a college campus was the wisest or safest choice to start his fledgling attempts. At a loss, Sam did the only thing he could think of. With great reluctance, he spoke with Jess about his concerns.

Sam wiggled a finger in his ear to try and reduce the sharp ringing echoing in his skull. It didn't help, because Jessica was still squealing loud enough to wake the dead. He was starting to seriously regret having opened his mouth.

At least I didn't tell her in public. He thought idly to himself, both amused and horrified at her reaction. Perhaps this wasn't my best good idea.

"OH. MY. GOD! SAM!" She was nearly vibrating out of her skin in excitement as she bounced up and down on her toes like a manic five-year-old who had just been told they were going to Disney. It made the dread in the pit of Sam's stomach deepen to the size of the Grand Canyon.

Yup. Definitely starting to regret it. He's never seen Jess act like this before. Not to this extreme level anyhow. She was bubbly and prone to being excitable at times, but this was something else.

She flounced over to him from her spot at the kitchen counter making instant Ramen lunch. Her bright blonde curls were flying everywhere as she latched onto his arm with a near bruising grip. Blue eyes stared up at Sam, wide and sparkling, making him wonder if he shouldn't flee out the door before she exploded. "THIS IS SO AWESOME! NOW WE CAN SCOPE OUT GUYS TOGETHER! WE CAN GO CLUBBING! WE CAN - "

Oh Hell no. Sam thought in alarm. He needed to cut off this trainwreck before it started leaving the station. "Jess."

She babbled right over him, oblivious to his growing horror. Something about shopping. Like hell was he going to be a walking stereotype.

The notion made his skin crawl. Enough was enough. "JESSICA ANNE MOORE!" He snapped in a tone he usually reserved for when he was on the verge of punching Dean's smug face.

She jerked back in shocked, dropping his arm as though he'd burned her bony fingers. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She just stared at him for a second, uncertain. She'd never heard Sam yell before. Normally Sam was very tolerant of her, at times, overwhelming enthusiasm for things. It was one of the reasons she adored him so much.

Now that he had her attention Sam softened his voice to a more normal, if still irritated, level. "Jess. I'm still me. I didn't turn into some crappy sitcom token gay character."

Her mouth shut with a small snap as blue eyes dropped to the floor. Her face fell, as a blush of embarrassment stole over her cheeks.

"I'm not suddenly going to go shopping with you and a bunch of your girlfriends. Just, no. I hate shopping; you know this. I can barely stand to do it for the shit I need. Nevermind anything else." She fiddled with her fingers like a scolded child, but Sam kept going. He needed her to understand so this didn't continue.

"As for clubbing, yea, okay, we'll see." He sighed heavily as he ran one hand through his mop of hair in stress, mind racing over the possibilities and potential disasters. Jess peeked up at him from under her lashes. Her expression, while contrite, was still too mischievous for Sam's liking.

"Depends on the place, but I'm not gonna start drinking Cosmos and talk about pedicures or shoes. I already know more than I want to about that crap, thanks to you." She smirked at him, unashamed, and Sam just rolled his eyes.

"And I'm not sure I'm comfortable with 'scoping out guys' with you. I'm sorry but, that's just…" He shook his head, not knowing how to explain to her the mix of embarrassment and shyness that the idea invoked in him. Sam wasn't even sure if he could look an attractive guy in the eyes at this point without stammering and blushing like a panicked idiot.

"Nothing has changed other than I might maybe wanna get naked with a dude. At some point. Maybe." Sam took a deep breath, trying to calm the anxiety the idea provoked in him. He was definitely not anywhere near ready to tumble into bed with any guy at this point. Prince charming or not.

And Jess was biting her bottom lip, blue eyes twinkling at him again. She's laughing at me. He realized with exasperation. The little Brat. Sam swore the moment he met the girl he'd somehow inherited an annoying younger, if only slightly, sister that seemed intent on tormenting him.

"Honestly, I'm surprised with you. Your cousin Tina is a lesbian, right? Do you expect her to 'butch' up? Cut all her hair off and spike it? Refuse to wear skirts or dresses? Talk like a sailor?" Jess grimaced and sharply shook her head, knowing Tina would give her an earful, just like Sam was doing.

Sam gave a firm nod of his head, running out of steam with his rant. "Exactly. She'd have a fit, wouldn't she?"

Jess looked up at him and took a deep breath before speaking. "You're right. I'm sorry. Tina would have thrown something at me. I dunno why I jumped right to that. I am excited for you, though. You're still my big, sweet, too serious at times, Sam."

Sam smiled a little bit and reached out to pull her into his arms for a hug. "Thanks, I think."

She snickered at him from where her face was buried in his chest, squeezing her arms about his waist. Then she stepped back, again with a little bounce in her gait, and her eyes still shining. Sam groaned.

"No. No. No. Don't make that noise at me Sam Winchester." Jess scolded playfully, pointing a finger at him with a mock frown. "I know you. You're going to bury your head in the sand and do nothing about this revelation. I'm not going to let you hide just because you've turned into a ginormous shy wallflower. We need to find someone safe for you to practice flirting with."

He sighed. "Jess -"

She turned away from him, going back to her now overdone Ramen and poking at it with her fork as she contemplated available options. "There is Brian Marsh. He's sweet, and unattached as far as I know."

"No." He said firmly. Brian was not his type. Sweet or not, he looked too much like Sam's brother.

Jess huffed at him as she took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. Seeing that he wasn't getting out of this, Sam sat down on one of the stools and waited to see what his fate would turn out to be. "Alright fine. What about Michael Buchanan? He's cute, and I think he's Bi. I would need to check with Sarah. She would definitely know."

Sam shrugged, utterly indifferent. Jess made a face at him. "Well, that's a no then. Complete lack of interest on your part. Hmm…"

Jess suddenly turned a sly look at him, her smile turning a little feral. "Oh, I know who would be just Perfect…"

Sam felt a chill go down his spine. "Who…?" He asked slowly, with apprehension, fighting the instinct to flinch as she reached out to pat his hand in mocking comfort.

Jess's grin turned positively wolfish, and Sam knew he was doomed. She was openly unabashed at finding deep entertainment from the expression of sheer resigned horror painting his face. "Now, you just leave everything to me Sammie-Bear. I think I can work it, so all you have to do is show up."

His head thunked down on his arm with a heartfelt groan. He knew that smile. "Doomed." He mumbled, just loud enough for her to hear. "So fucking doomed…"

The brat just cackled at him.

Sam slowly released a deep breath as he stared at his reflection in the bedroom mirror. It didn't help with his nerves. It wasn't soothing. It just was. He was still an anxious mess.

I'm going to screw this up. I just know it.

Critically, Sam looked himself over. The blind date Jess had set up was at Mugs Cafe downtown from the Stamford campus. Not far, easily within twenty-minute walking distance. Because of the setting, he was dressed semi-casual. Black slacks with a borrowed button down, and Sam's almost never worn dress shoes that he only pulled out for the occasional date or school function where sneakers were not appropriate.

"I can't believe I'm doing this." He muttered under his breath, fidgeting with the collar of the dark blue button down Jess had somehow talked him into wearing. He didn't even know who it was that he was meeting. Sam knew only that they would be there at two o'clock, and would be wearing a gold and green crowned frog pin on the left side of his collar. Apparently, it was some sort of unspoken joke.

Which, really Jess? The Frog Prince? Where did she even get it?

Jess had also reassured Sam that even if he didn't see the pin, he should be able to tell exactly who she had set him up with. Her words didn't leave Sam with a good feeling. Jess had been entirely too smug while uttering them.

How the hell get I let her talk me into this? He asked himself, fiddling with his hair, which did exactly what it wanted, regardless of his attempts to keep it settled.

"Blackmail, Sam That's how she did it. Dirty, underhanded trick." Sam couldn't help but feel ridiculously proud of her for it. Even if hell would freeze over before he'd ever admit it aloud. It wasn't often that someone could talk Sam Winchester into a corner. He wasn't even sure where the hell she had gotten the information that she was holding over his head. She'd only teased him with words like 'internet' and 'hacker friend.' The girl, for all her seemingly innocent, bubbly nature, was scary devious when she wanted to be.

Truthfully, it wasn't the end of the world if the picture got out, but Sam had felt like giving her the win. She had done some serious sleuthing to find it. He hated that eighth-grade photo. His father John had gotten it in his head that Sam was going to get a haircut, whether he wanted one or not. So out had come the hair clippers, and the end result had been...well.

He hadn't had much hair on his head for months afterward. Dean's teasing had been brutal. Sam had looked like a complete jackass with a shorn head. Even John had regretted trimming it that short, but had only grunted something about it growing out soon enough.

Unfortunately, it hadn't been soon enough to avoid school picture day, and Sam hadn't had the heart to go MIA when Dean had worked hard to scrounge up the money for the pictures to be taken in the first place, months beforehand. Somehow, Jess had found it, and it was now coming back to haunt him.

He pulled himself from his circling thoughts and took one last look at himself in the mirror before making himself walk away. Nothing in that image was going to change from what he had already seen. He was just stalling at this point. He locked up the dorm room and headed out.

Twenty minutes is a surprisingly short amount of time when one is nervous.

It seemed like in no time at all. Sam was standing outside Mugs Cafe, glancing through the glass windows to try and catch a glimpse of anyone he might recognize. Unfortunately, the Cafe was busy, and he couldn't see everyone that was milling around just from the window.

He took another deep breath. Man up Winchester. You've shanked monsters for a good chunk of your life. You can get through a single awkward blind date.

Mentally steeling himself, Sam opened the door and stepped inside. Hesitantly, he moved further into the Cafe and out of the way of the doorway so as to not block the flow of people. His eyes scanned the room until he saw a flash of gold in one of the far corners of the place. Turning his head, he found himself looking at the back of someone with messy dark hair, and a frog pin on their collar.

Mustering his courage, Sam strode over towards what he was fairly certain was the blind date Jess had arranged. As Sam got closer, the brunet looked up from his phone. The ex-Hunter nearly turned right around and bolted back out the door.

It was the man Sam had plowed into on the sidewalk nearly three months ago. Green eyes blinked at him, and then a single brow arched as recognition filled his face. Caught out, Sam forced himself to finish walking towards his apparent date. Unfathomable green eyes watched his every move as he did so.

Sam cleared his throat when he finally stopped by the table. "Uh, Hi. Sam Winchester. Are you...did Jess…" He faltered, courage leaving him. Luckily, it seemed that the other man took pity on him.

Sam watched as Harry leaned back in his seat, noting the little smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth. It was obvious the other man definitely remembered that Sam had nearly run him down. He wondered at his thoughts on the matter.

Would he tell Sam to get lost? Would he get up and leave himself?

Sam didn't think so, the green gaze locked on his own didn't seem hostile. He noted slender hands set the phone they held down on the table. Then Sam's date rose gracefully from his seat and held out his right hand. Reflexively Sam reached out to grasp it in a firm handshake. John had always emphasized the merits of a good handshake, and made the boys practice until he was satisfied with the results. The ex-Hunter valiantly fought off a blush as the exchange student opened his mouth to speak, that lovely British accent tickling Sam's ears.

"Harry Potter. Nice to meet you properly, Sam. And yes, that imp Jessica did indeed coax me here." He offered warmly, before dropping his hand back down to his side. With his left, he gestured to the table.

"Please have a seat." Harry offered, and retook his own chair while Sam gingerly folded himself into the one opposite. He was aware of Harry watching him with a lifted eyebrow again. When he made an inquiring noise in Harry's direction, the brunet simply stated. "Long legs there, mate."

Sam failed spectacularly to suppress the suddenly flush blooming on his face. "Uh, yea. Makes some things a complete hazard." He muttered.

Harry chuckled with a small smile. "Yes. I can see that. I wasn't sure if you would fit your legs under the table, its a bit of a squeeze even for myself. These settings seems rather smaller than normal."

Before Sam could try to formulate a response to that, a server bustled over to their table. She was a petite, short cropped redhead with several piercings in her ears and several on her face. Sam could see tattoos hidden under her sleeves but couldn't make out what they were. Her tired eyes were blue edging into grey, and Sam guessed her to be somewhere in her thirties. Her nametag read a smudged 'Sharon.'

Sharon popped her bubblegum at them, looking as thrilled to be there as Sam would be sharing the Impala with Dean after he'd eaten his weight in ChiChi's steak and bean burritos. Her rough voice was crisp and no-nonsense. "What'll it be boys?"

"A cup of hot black tea if you wouldn't mind, and a slice of that Almond Blackberry cheesecake, please," Harry spoke up immediately. Sharon nodded absently as she whipped a pen and pad out of a pocket and scribbled it down. Then her eyes locked on Sam's.

"And for you, Hon?"

"Uhm..." Sam hadn't had half a chance to look at a menu of any sort. His eyes flew to the board over the coffee counter, hoping there was something there that would catch his attention. "Ahh... Iced Tea...with…" Thankfully he found something fairly quickly. "A couple of those Lemon and Cream pastries?"

Sharon nodded sharply and scribbled once more, before tossing out, "Be about five minutes." and left their table.

When Sam turned his attention back to his date, he found Harry regarding him with a slightly wrinkled nose. "What?" He questioned curiously.

Harry shook his head, smoothing out the wrinkle. "Nothing, I just forget sometimes you Americans desecrate perfectly good tea."

Sam blinked. "Desecrate?"

"Perfectly good tea." Harry finished.

"How?" Sam asked with a slight tilt of his head, somewhat amused.

"Tea should never be cold, nevermind Iced." Harry scowled playfully "Heathens, the lot of you."

Sam couldn't stop the snort that left him. Harry just grinned in response. "It was quite the culture shock the first time I ordered tea while out, and the server put an Iced Abomination in front of me."

Sam shook his head. "I imagine it was rather funny."

Harry laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. "Oh, it was. Afterwards. Not so much then. I was horrified."

The ex-Hunter felt laughter bubbling up from deep inside, and he didn't try to stop it from spilling out of his mouth. "What did you do to the poor server?"

Harry blinked at him innocently, with a look Sam had seen far too often on Jessica's face when she was denying mischief. "Who said I did anything?"

Arching an eyebrow in disbelief, Sam deliberately looked him up and down from head to toe, very much in the same way he would Dean after he pulled a particularly tale out of his back end. Sam had experience with sussing out fibs, and his date wasn't even trying very hard.

Harry folded like a wet paper bag under the intense look and slumped in mock contriteness. "Alright fine." He grumbled, not meeting Sam's eyes and poking at his phone guiltily. "I might have accused them of trying to poison me."

Sam inhaled a portion of his saliva as laughter burst unexpectedly out of him. "You.." He coughed to clear his throat, ignoring Harry staring at him with wide eyes, and a sheepish grin. "You did what? That poor server!"

Harry just shrugged unrepentantly with a snigger. "In my defense, it was my first year of Finals, and I'd had no sleep in two very long stressful days."

"I'm sensing a theme here." Sam deadpanned, with mock seriousness. His breath hitching as Harry laughed once more, his whole being lighting up from the inside with his amusement. It was in that moment, that the ex-Hunter knew he going to fall hard and fast. It was also when he realized that he was perfectly okay with the revelation. However, it might end with them in the future.

From that point on, something uncoiled in Sam, allowing him to relax. Conversation flowed freely between them, and the ex-Hunter found himself quickly entranced by the man sitting across from him. Harry was funny in a quirky way, and sweet. He admitted to having a temper, but it was all flash with little lingering heat. He apologized for snapping at Sam for the sidewalk incident and explained that he'd been having an absolutely terrible day. Sam had just been the unfortunate victim of Harry reaching the limit of things going wrong that day.

Their drinks came, along with their treats, and Harry teased him again about the Iced tea, and Sam called him a tea snob in retaliation. They talked about Jess, and how completely insane she could be when motivated. They discussed classes and ideas about the future. They both avoided talking about their families, and aspects of their past. Neither wanting to broach such a heavy subject on a first date. Before they knew it, a few hours had flown by, and Sam had to get back to his dorm to start his homework for the next day's classes. Harry reluctantly admitted he needed to work on his own project, as he was a little behind.

Sam was nervous as the date was winding to a close, but not for the same reasons he'd had at the beginning. This nervousness was a mixture of elation and happiness. They walked out of the Cafe together, still talking intermittently between comfortable silences. To Sam's pleasure, Harry asked for a second date before their first one was quite an at an end. With the exchange of phone numbers, they tentatively set it for two weeks in the future, this time for lunch at Mario's for pizza.

Eventually, like all things, their afternoon came to an end. They paused at the corner down the block from Mugs Cafe. Sam turned to Harry, who was still smiling softly at him. Before the ex-Hunter could over think it , he took a step forward and leaned into Harry's personal space, while giving him plenty of time to pull away.

He didn't.

Instead, Harry tilted his head up to meet Sam's descending mouth with soft lips of his own. It wasn't earth shattering. Or world altering. There were no fireworks, or the ground rolling under their feet. There wasn't perfect alignment. There was the faint graze of teeth, and slightly chapped lips. It was not a fairytale kiss.

What is was, instead, was a bit awkward, as two strangers learned one another. It was cautious softness, warmth and trust. It was sensual skin gently sliding against one another. It was a playful flick of a tongue silently asking entry. It was the soft sigh of permission granted. It was hesitant exploration that slowly deepened as confidence built. It was passion, hope and safety. It was recognition of their match, finally found.

It was perfection, because it was real.

END