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lil-artist-blog-fandoms-ocs · 11 days

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"No matter what they made you think, you are worth saving. You are worth loving." with darknsweet and his aus Norman (forgot his nickname)

"Worthy"

Norman/Sammy, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: mild swearing, mildly dark thoughts, two men kissing

Wordcount: 10147

Happy birthday Sammy, lmao

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It was such a nice day. The birds were singing. The trees rustled in the wind. The sun was slowly moving toward the horizon. Even the Lost Ones, the most cautious and tense creatures of the studio, were especially relaxed now. For the first time in decades, they looked… so happy. The only one who stood out was Sammy. While everyone was getting ready for the evening and night, he was just sitting some distance away, looking at the sun and the fluffy clouds around him.

Norman was concerned. Sammy had been there for at least a couple hours now. At first the projectionist hadn't wanted to bother him, thinking the prophet was making plans for their life outside the studio. But now Sammy's behavior seemed odd.

Along with taking a couple steps toward Sammy, Norman turned around and met eyes with Sarah. She was helping to organize the fire, carrying a bundle of twigs, and froze when Norman looked at her. After a couple of seconds of silent staring, she nodded her head gently toward the musician, signaling that it was the projectionist who should talk to him. The Lost One realized that Sammy would only open up to someone he absolutely trusted. If she or anyone else tried to talk to him, he would push them away. It had taken many years, but now Sarah understood that. With a final nod to Norman as well, Sarah withdrew to the others. The one-eyed man headed toward Sammy, who was sitting on the grass.

The musician didn't even notice he was being approached until Norman started talking.

"Sammy, are you okay?" - the projectionist asked. The musician flinched involuntarily and turned around, coming face to face with a worried Norman.

Sammy gave him a little smile.

"Yeah, it's okay," his voice sounded as soft and confident as ever. But clearly unused to having a face now, the musician couldn't hide his tired eyes and strained smile.

"Uh, no, you don't look okay," Norman replied. Sammy's smile became even more strained and awkward. Norman could see through him, and Sammy didn't like it.

"You're just imagining things," the musician squeezed out. He thought his nonexistent heart clenched when the projectionist sighed.

Norman glanced around cursorily. Behind him was the camp of the Lost Ones. Too many eyes and ears. No matter how hard you tried, Sammy wouldn't say anything. The one-eyed man shrugged.

"Whatever you say. But you know what? I found a remote spot with a nice view. You want to watch the sunset from there?"

The former prophet hesitated, looking away from Norman for a few seconds. But he nodded and stood up, shaking the dust off his pants.

"All right, let's go."

Norman led him away from the camp, to a small hill a few hundred meters away. Even though Norman's main purpose was to get Sammy away to talk, he didn't lie about the beautiful view the two inky men had in front of them.

Now that they were alone, the projectionist hoped that the one-actor show would stop playing out in front of him. He moved a little closer so that their shoulders were lightly touching.

"Sammy, be honest, is something wrong?"

The musician looked back at him for a second, quickly averting his gaze and looking up at the pinking sky. He frowned slightly, thinking. Then exhaled, admitting defeat.

"Nothing much has happened. It's just…I'm tired."

Now it was Norman's turn to frown.

"Hey, didn't we agree that you'd go to take a nap when you were tired? I thought you learned how to turn that "radio" thing off when you wanted to."

"Yeah, I've kinda learned to do that," Sammy sighed, pulling up his knees and resting his head on them. "But for some reason, I keep hearing voices sometimes."

"Their voices?" - Norman raised an eyebrow. The musician shook his head.

"They sound different. Or he, I'm not sure," noticing Norman's tilted head, Sammy clarified. "It's like one voice is trying to sound different. Whispering, changing the tone and manner of speech," the musician spread his hands.

"And what does he or they tell you?" The projectionist tilted his head slightly toward him.

Sammy looked away. It was unexpected to see guilt and... fear on his face?

"It doesn't matter".

"Ohoho, nah, you're not walking away from it now. What are they telling you in there?"

"U-um... It's…nothing special," Sammy squeezed his head into his shoulders a little. He flinched slightly when his hand was touched.

"Sammy, don't try to make excuses. I'm serious," Norman's tone made Sammy relax a little, looking down at his feet with a guilty puppy dog look.

"He says a lot of things."

"What kind of things?"

The musician sighed again.

"Like…that I don't deserve to be here." While his boyfriend froze in shock, Sammy continued. Surprisingly, the musician sounded calm. "That I didn't deserve anything good. I didn't deserve this body. I didn't deserve to be free from the studio."

"That's bullshit," Norman's voice cut through. But before he could continue, Sammy, as if in a trance, spoke again.

"I think that's the only thing that's fair. I've been lying for a very long time. I've used everyone around me. I've caught and killed innocent people… I guess it's their restless souls that haunt me. It's my fault. I shouldn't have become a leader. I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve your love. I didn't deserve to be saved."

Sammy was stopped by Norman's fingers touching the musician's lips.

"That's enough. No one dares speak like that about the one I love," Norman spoke low and quiet, looking at him with an incredibly serious expression on his face. "Not you, not some fucking voice in your head."

Sammy tried to concentrate on looking at the grass and his boots. A typical reaction for him. Norman gently took him by the chin, turning him to face him. The musician stiffened, seeing how the movie mechanic's gaze was filled with worry and…tenderness.

"Sammy, listen carefully to what I'm about to say. No matter what these voices tell you. No matter what they made you think, you are worth saving. You are worth loving. Everything you've done, you've done for our good. No matter how horrible you think your actions are, they don't change the fact that you more than anyone else deserve a good ending."

Silence.

They looked at each other and it was as if time had stopped for them. The rays of the slowly setting sun painted everything around them in warm colors. The birds were quiet. The wind stopped blowing.

Everything stood still.

Norman moved his hand slightly and placed it on Sammy's cheek. The one-eyed man moved toward him, already thinking of realizing his long-held dream.

But he stopped.

And instead just kissed his forehead.

"Understood?"

He gave the musician a quick smile, letting him go and sitting up straight, finally turning his attention to the view.

"What a view he-" Norman didn't have time to finish, frozen like a statue by the feel of something at the corner of his mouth. Sammy, who was much closer than before, pulled back with a barely noticeable smile.

"Thank you. Maybe one day I'll be able to believe what you say."

No, it was just a crime to tease him like that.

Or was that consent?

The mechanic couldn't think about it. His only desire forbade him to be distracted by anything. Putting one hand on the musician's shoulder and taking his chin again with the other, he turned him toward him and kissed him.

For real this time.

Norman's head stopped working. The mechanisms in his chest hummed. There was a sudden sweetness on his tongue. He would have been glad to spend eternity like that. But he was stopped by Sammy's hands resting on his shoulders.

Now, looking at his face, Norman realized that … fucked up. Sammy just stared at him in shock.

Golden eyes wide open. Mouth slightly open. A flushed face.

A flushed face?

The scarlet rays of the nearly set sun lay calmly on the white inky skin. The musician seemed to be flushed, which actually suited his dazed expression very well. It was incredibly cute.

What Norman couldn't know was that he had the same panicked and flushed face. The newly formed couple turned away from each other, dying a little inside.

"W-what was that?"

"A kiss?"

"That doesn't feel like anything you've done before!" The musician put his palm to his lips, hundreds of thoughts swarming in his head. "You never came in my mouth before."

"…Was it disgusting?" The projectionist spoke more softly, as if the air had been cut off. A mistake like that would be hard to undo. With worry, he took a quick glance at the musician.

He was surprised and relieved to find his eyes shining brightly.

"…M-my first impulse was to bite your tongue off," he muttered, still not daring to look at Norman. "But…I can't say that…it was disgusting. It was just…very unexpected," Norman was bumped on his shoulder. "Don't do something like that without asking beforehand!"

That got a couple of weak chuckles out of the one-eyed man, and he was able to relax.

"…Too bad our first kiss was such a mess…maybe we should try again?"

The intonation with which Norman said it made Sammy wince a little. The red rays perfectly matched his slightly panicked expression. But Sammy tried to respond, making his voice sound just as cheeky as the projectionist's. The face the musician tried to make to match the tone still looked very awkward.

"…You're a sly one, Mr. Polk," he wanted to say something else, but forgot all the words as he turned and almost bumped his nose into Norman's. There were now several centimeters between their faces. The one-eyed man continued to stare at him mockingly and insolently.

Though the musician tried to hide his embarrassment and even some panic, the projectionist had long ago made it clear that he saw right through Sammy.

"I'm also very brazen," Norman said in a much lower voice. Thanks to his ability to keep a brick face and the lack of blood, otherwise they'd both be red-faced like little schoolboys on a first date. "... May I?"

The projectionist's gaze shifted for a second to the former prophet's lips and then immediately returned to his eyes. The second of silence that hung between them seemed like an eternity.

Until Sammy almost moved in, copying Norman's tone.

"You may."

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