Forget Yourself

Dance Academy | Sammy/Christian | PG-13 | ~2,373

Christian goes to stay with Sammy's family for the holidays and it's not as weird as he thought it'd be.

A/N: For the hs_bingo prompt 'summer vacation'.

Christian goes to stay with Sammy's family for the holidays and it's not as weird as he thought it'd be. Sure, Mr. Lieberman spends most of his time judging his son's choices and dropping not so subtle hints about medical school, but Mrs. Lieberman is a fantastic cook and during the day the boys are free to do what they like. Christian makes good on his promise to teach Sammy how to surf even if Sammy does spend more time in the water than on the board, and they play an unreasonable amount of Guitar Hero and talk about the band they're never really going to start.

Mostly it's awesome, the kind of friendship that's easy and fun and doesn't lead to anyone being arrested (which is always a plus), and Christian's totally happy to let time pass on by.

Some days aren't so great, the ones where Sammy's phone will buzz with a text message that Christian knows is from Kat without being told, and Sammy will shut himself in his room, throw a tennis ball at the ceiling and refuse to admit that he's angry and hurt. Christian tries to talk to him about it, but Sammy just raises a disbelieving eyebrow, an 'are we really going to go back to the whole talking about our feelings thing?', and Christian shuts up because things are good between them, great even, and he doesn't want to rock the boat.

The bad spells only last twenty-four hours and then things are golden again, Sammy cheerful and enthusiastic as if he's not missing his best friend like crazy. Like his heart isn't a little bit broken.

Christian kind of wishes he could pretend too.

They're lying in the dark, bone-tired from a day at the beach, and on the verge of sleep when Sammy brings it up.

"Kat's not coming back next term," he says, and his voice is barely a whisper but it makes Christian sit up anyway.

"What?"

"She didn't make it into second year." He sounds lost, like he can't quite believe the words are coming out of his mouth, and Christian understands, can't get his head around it either. Sure, Kat was mouthy and rebellious, hated following the rules and only put up with ballet because it gave her the freedom to do what she really loved, but she was also a fantastic dancer with parents that were practically royalty in the business, and when she put her mind to something nothing could stop her.

"Damn," he says eventually, and it's not enough, seems inappropriate when Sammy snorts and rolls over to face the wall, trapping himself inside his own little bubble, and Christian really wishes he knew what to say to make it suck just a little bit less but his mind draws a blank.

"I'm sorry," he says eventually after they've been silent for too long.

"Yeah," Sammy says, voice muffled by his pillow.

Christian shuts his eyes and can't sleep.

"Turkey," Tara says as soon as he answers his phone. "If you were still wondering."

Christian's sitting in the Lieberman's back yard watching as Sammy tries to persuade his mum that it's totally safe to let them go camping for the weekend, waving his arms around as he tell her they're going to be on a proper campsite not the middle of the outback, and it takes him a minute to register what she's saying.

"Sorry, what?"

"We're turkey people, not seafood," she explains, and she sounds amused.

"Cool," he says. "Traditional. Though there's definitely something to be said for the beach barbie."

"I bet. So, do you think you maybe want to come stay at the farm for a bit? Just as friends, I mean. Get out of the city. I love Sammy, but I bet he's kind of driving you crazy, right?"

"Not at all," Christian says, and he intends it to come off as carefree and maybe a little sarcastic, but instead it's completely sincere.

"Right," Tara says, sounding confused.

"Look," he says, "thanks for the offer, but I think I'm going to stick around here. Sammy's still taking the Kat thing pretty hard and it would suck if I upped and left too."

"Sure, yeah, of course," Tara says, and she's embarrassed now. Christian wants to tell her not to be, that he wishes he could come stay for a bit, only the words sound like a lie even in his head.

"I'll speak to you later," he says instead.

"So, I think I've got her convinced," Sammy says, dropping down next to Christian on the grass. "As long as we take, like, a ton of first aid supplies and promise to check in roughly once a minute. You think it's worth it?"

"Yeah," Christian says, putting his phone back in his pocket. "Yeah, I think it is."

The day Sammy and his father have their big fight Christian's down the skate park hanging out with Kayla. It's dark by the time he gets back, still stifling hot, and he almost doesn't notice Sammy sitting on the porch.

"Hey," Sammy whispers, and Christian can't see his face but he knows he's been crying.

"What happened?" Christian asks, and if his voice is a little urgent, a little panicked, then that's totally reasonable.

Sammy laughs, and it's bitter and unfamiliar and just plain wrong. "Dad. He's not backing down; he's pulling my funding for the Academy and there's not a damn thing I can say to change his mind."

"Shit," Christian says, sliding down the wall next to Sammy and stretching out his legs. "He's seen you dance, right? He knows how good you are."

"Doesn't matter," Sammy says. "As far as he's concerned dancing's just a hobby for girls."

"Right," Christian says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "Because it's not a real, time consuming, demanding, professional sport or anything."

"Of course not."

Christian sighs. "Want me to get out of here? It'd probably be easier without another dancer around the place."

"No," Sammy says quickly, grabbing his wrist, and Christian feels stupid for suggesting it and painfully relieved at the answer. "Having you around makes it better if anything. You're a real boy or whatever."

"Sammy…."

"Nah, it's cool," he says, and Christian hates that he sounds so lost. "It just confirms the fact that I can never, ever tell him about the other thing. Not unless I want him to have a heart attack."

They sit in silence for a while, Sammy tapping out a perfect rhythm on his knee with his fingertips, and Christian has to resist the urge to pull him closer.

Christian's used to fighting; fighting the system, fighting people's assumptions, even fighting physically. For a long time he felt like the world was out to get him, and even now he has to remind himself sometimes that people really are looking out for him.

He's never had to fight someone who's supposed to love him for who he is, though.

"It'll be okay," he says, knocking his shoulder lightly against Sammy's.

"Hmm," Sammy murmurs noncommittally, and Christian hopes likes hell that doesn't mean he's given up.

"You'll see," he says instead, and he sounds more desperate than calm. "We'll work something out."

"Here," Christian says, dropping a pile of papers into Sammy's lap and rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"What are these?"

"Application forms. For part time jobs. I thought you might want to fill some out."

Truthfully he'd spent the whole afternoon trailing around town looking for any and all 'help wanted' signs. He'd flirted and been on his best behavior and managed to come away with half a dozen possibilities.

"Yeah?" Sammy says, and there's a spark in his eyes that could be renewed hope. "You think this'll work?"

"I think if you start now then you should have enough saved up for at least a little while. It'll give you time to talk to the teachers, see if there's anyway they can help."

"Thank you," Sammy says, and his voice sounds a little raw as he grabs at Christian's shoulders and pulls him into a hug that probably lasts longer than it should.

"But," Sammy says when they eventually pull apart, "that'll mean you're by yourself for the rest of the summer."

"Nah," Christian says, "I'll just hang out with Kayla or down the beach 'till you finish."

Sammy smiles at him, and it's open and grateful and honest, and Christian feels something twist deep in his chest, something that makes him pause and blink once, twice.

Oh shit, he thinks.

Sammy begins working at a coffee shop in town, and he has to start ridiculously early but it means he's off the clock by three. Christian's taken to wandering over for the end of his shift each day, sipping the free cappuccinos Sammy slides his way even though he doesn't really like them, and then listening to Sammy's rants about the customers as they head down to the beach.

Christian's pretty sure it's not normal to spend the rest of his day waiting for three o'clock to roll around, but then his life's never been particularly normal anyway. He just wishes he could put it down to the fact that they're friends.

The stupid knot in his stomach hasn't done anything to untangle itself, and it's beginning to drive him crazy. He's not stupid, he knows exactly what it is, he just wishes he didn't.

"So," Sammy says one night when they're hiding out in his room, avoiding the dinner party his parents are hosting for a bunch of Mr. Lieberman's colleagues. "You going to tell me what's wrong?"

"What?" Christian says, and curses under his breath when he knocks over his guitar in his haste to turn around.

"That's what I'm talking about. You've been acting weird for the last few weeks. So, what is it? I mean, unless you don't want to tell me?"

He sounds so despondent, like he still feels as if he has to work for Christian's friendship, and Christian has to fight back a frustrated groan.

"It's nothing," he says instead, and watches Sammy's face drop just a little.

"Right, sure," Sammy says, standing up and grabbing a book from beside his bed. "I mean, just, if you did want to talk about anything…"

"Sammy…" Christian says, with a sigh.

"No, I mean. It's probably nothing, right? Or none of my business or whatever? That's cool."

He moves towards the door, his eyes staring holes into the book between his hands, and Christian can't believe he's thinking about this, can't believe he's…

"Sammy," he says again, and this time Sammy stops, scuffs his feet against the carpet a little.

"It's fine, really," he says, and Christian kisses him.

It doesn't last very long, or maybe it lasts ages, but when they pull back Sammy's staring at him in surprise.

"Um," Sammy says, and Christian sort of wants to be sick.

"Yeah," he says instead, and wow this didn't really make anything better.

"You kissed me," Sammy says, and Christian's pretty sure that if he were feeling even remotely like himself he'd roll his eyes at that.

"I did."

"Right. And, um, is that…something…you were planning to do, or was it more of a spur of the moment 'Sammy's whining again and I really want him to shut up' thing?"

Christian can't help the laugh that slips out, and for a moment he's worried Sammy's going to take offense, but instead it seems to lighten the mood. Sammy's shoulders lower from where they're stuck around his shoulders, and Christian's close enough that he can feel it when Sammy takes a deep breath.

"A bit of both?" Christian says, and it's Sammy's turn to laugh.

"Okay." Christian watches with interest as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, and maybe he's being obvious or maybe Sammy just really wants to know, because he says, "And is that something you're maybe thinking about doing again?"

"Maybe," Christian says, "yeah."

"Okay, s'long as I know."

It doesn't make things weird, not really, and he's stupidly glad. Christian still goes to meet Sammy from work, and they still go to the beach and play epic amounts of Guitar Hero and avoid Mr. Lieberman at all costs. They don't hold hands or call each other pet names or go around declaring themselves boyfriends, but it's not a secret either. It's just them, just the way they work, and Christian wonders if this isn't what people mean when they say the person you're with should also be your best friend.

The only difference between now and before is that they get to steal kisses behind closed doors, stare at each other for a little too long over dinner as if sharing some private joke, and Christian can take the stupid butterflies in his stomach if the rest of it's so natural and comfortable.

"So, not long before we're back at the Academy," Sammy says one evening when they're catching the last of the sun.

"Yeah. Back to the grindstone."

"I don't know," Sammy says, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. "I'm kind of looking forward to it, even if everything will be really different."

Christian thinks about the amount of work they'll have to do, how much more they'll have to prove themselves, and he thinks about how the dynamics will completely change without Kat around. About this new thing with him and Sammy.

"It's going to be strange," he says, and turns his head when Sammy's phone buzzes.

"It's from Kat," Sammy says after a moment, and Christian doesn't need to be looking at him to know how wide his smile is. "She's coming back to town for a few days for Ethan's birthday and demands that I put all plans on hold so she can kidnap me."

"Yeah?" Christian says, and he can't help but smile too, not when everything's working out so perfectly. "Tell her she'll have to run that by me first."

Sammy's silent for a second and then places a quick kiss on his lips.

"Sure," he says, and Christian's pretty sure he's not the only one thinking that this is the best summer ever.