Sam/Henry, Threat

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Sam was making the kids’ lunches for tomorrow when Henry’s arms wrapped around him. “Hi,” he said.

“Hi,” said Sam, leaning back for a kiss while he cut celery. “How was your day?”

“Good. I think I’m close to tracking down our spider friends. How was yours?” Henry’s hand slid down to Sam’s bare thigh. All he was wearing was one of Henry’s shirts and some underwear, because the kids were still awake.

“Fine,” Sam said. “Did stealth training with the kids for a few hours. They watched a movie after. I start putting together our tax shit.”

He felt Henry nod against his shoulder as he counted out five pieces of celery for each kid, except for Ove, who got six because he didn’t like odd numbers. “Thanks. Nothing else happened?”

“Nope.” Sam took a breath.

Henry kissed him. “Liar,” he whispered. “Are you okay?”

Sam scowled. “Which one of those little snitches needs to be put on laundry duty all month?” His chest didn’t even hurt anymore.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It does. I explained to them the importance of being able to keep a secret in our line of work.”


“I also threatened them.”

“I threatened them more.”

“With what?”

“Welsh butter.”

“That’s not a real thing.”

“Mm-hm,” Henry agreed, massaging Sam’s sides now. “Which is why I threatened them with it instead of you. We’ll call it a lesson in the power of the human imagination. Now do I need to punish you for wearing your binder for too long? Again?”

Sam’s face was all hot as he started scooping out Jell-o into little cups to put in each lunch box. Levi got a cookie instead. “It was an accident.”

“It’s always an accident. Take better care of yourself or I will.”

The way he said it made it clear that it was a threat, and Sam swallowed. He finished up the kids’ lunches. “Help me put these in the fridge,” he muttered, feeling weirdly guilty. “I still want to know which one snitched.”

“Don’t worry, I’m on top of it.”

Once the lunches were in the fridge, Henry picked Sam up. “Hey!”

“Have to check and make sure you’re really okay,” Henry said, taking Sam to the stairs. “Don’t worry, I already told the kids we’d talk to them in the morning.”

Sam sighed, knowing when he was beat. It had been an accident. But accidents were dangerous, and now he was paying the price for not paying attention. As if fainting hadn’t been enough of a punishment.

At least Henry didn’t use the Welsh butter on him.



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