Sam Doyle: Do you mind if I ask you a business question?
Dovid Rosenstein: Never :) what’s up?
Sam Doyle: There’s been a lot of activity on my channel lately. More than usual. People keep asking for me to do let’s plays for other games, and some of them have suggested livestreaming. Some even want to know if I have a donate button! There are people who want to pay me for doing let’s plays! I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.
Sam had actually waited a while to ask Dovid about it, because he hadn’t wanted to be a bother. But he was getting more and more subscribers every day, and it was, frankly, a little alarming. He sort of felt like he had back when Dovid had first plugged his channel all those weeks ago.
But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a little excited about it. That there were people who wanted more of his content. He even found himself, once in a while, entertaining the fantasy of being more like Dovid. Being able to have a job that didn’t make him miserable. Even made him happy.
That was a scary road to even think about going down though. At least he was used to his current routine.
Sam Doyle: Viewers keep asking for more things from me. And some of that is things that would pay me. I’m already making money off ads (much more than I expected, to be perfectly honest). I’m honestly not sure where to go from here. Some part of me wants to do it, because I wouldn’t be averse to a little more extra income, but I just don’t know.
Dovid Rosenstein: Do you want to call me? It’d probably be easier to have this conversation over the phone.
Sam Doyle: Are you sure that’s alright? You have the time?
His phone rang. Sam picked up. “Hello.”
“Hey there,” Dovid said, voice a calm amid the storm of Sam’s mind. “So, what’s up?”
“About what I said in text, I’m afraid,” Sam said. “I just—I don’t know what to do. The popularity I’ve reached is a bit alarming. I didn’t do anything to deserve it. I—I just make silly little let’s plays. Half the time I’m talking nonsense. I don’t understand.”
“Hey now,” Dovid said. “You’re yourself in your videos. That alone is pretty endearing. Trust me, I speak from experience. And you play the game well, so people are liking that too. Have you thought at all about... I don’t know, getting a little bigger? You’ve kind of got the following now, that you could.”
“I don’t know. I mean, I suppose I’d like to? To try it at least. It seems like some aspects of it could be fun. But there’s a lot that I don’t know and don’t know how to learn.”
“You’ve got me,” Dovid said. “I can help. If you’d like me to.”
Sam sighed. “That would be amazing, but that’s also such a commitment on your part. I don’t want to take up your time.”
“I want to give you it,” Dovid said. Like it was easy. “What’s your first question?”
Sam stumbled through his query on what to do about people wanting to donate to him. Dovid talked him through some different options, and then suggested Sam set up a Ko-fi account when Sam admitted that Patreon seemed a little daunting at this point.
“That way people can donate to you if you want, but you’re not running a Patreon or something, which would kind of require you to put out more content than you can handle.”
“I just can’t imagine people would actually want to donate to me. What do I do if they do?”
“Thank them however you’d like. Maybe say all their names in a video while you play, or put their names in a credit at the end. That’s all up to you.”
“I—that’s a good idea. I’d of course like to give credit.”
“There you go,” Dovid said encouragingly. “And I promise, if they like you that much to want to donate, then hearing their names in your video would be an awesome thank-you. Now, what’s this about playing other games?”
“Oh, erm, well, a few different commenters have requested that I play various other games, such as adventure games or terraforming games, but also...the company that made Dire Straits is releasing the beta of another game, called Brightforest, and, well, someone from the company asked if I wanted a version of the beta to play on my channel.”
“Hey! That’s awesome!”
Sam grinned hesitantly. He’d been pretty excited over it, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of what to think or do. He said as much to Dovid.
“That’s pretty easy,” Dovid said. “Do you want to play the game?”
“Well, yes. It looked like a lot of fun.”
“So why not? You get a free copy of the game that you want to play anyway. All you have to do is record yourself playing it, do a short review, and post it to YouTube. You don’t have to do a series of it or anything, unless you want to.”
“You don’t think people would mind that it’s a change?”
“Not at all. If they’re watching you now, it’s either because they like the game or they like you. Or both. I’m gonna go ahead and say that, for most of them, it’s both. You’re a pretty popular Let’s Player now.”
“I suppose you’re right. And I do want to play the game.”
“Okay! So accept their offer. If you had the time, you could space out the videos and upload on a different day, even. That would gain more viewers. And it’d be nice for the current ones, to have like, a bonus episode.”
“Alright.” Sam could do that. He normally played games every night to wind down, when he wasn’t reading or doing errands. It wouldn’t be too much of a hardship to record himself doing that for a different game. Even if he was usually wiped after work and talking more seemed daunting. Maybe he could do it on a weekend though, when he was a little better rested. “I’ll write them back.”
“Sounds good.”
“Thank you so much for talking me through this.”
“Anytime. You do realize I like talking to you, right? This just gives me another excuse.”
Sam flushed, not just pleased at the words, but with the knowledge that Dovid really meant them. “Alright. That’s good to know. I like talking to you too. As well you know, I hope.”
“I’m glad.”
“Hello, everybody, I’m Sam, and welcome to a review of Brightforest. C-land, the company that made Dire Straits, just released their beta version of this game and I was asked to review it. So, well, here I go.” Dovid listened with interest as Sam talked through the gameplay of Brightforest. It did sound pretty cool. He might have to get it for Rachel off Steam and see if she were interested in playing it with him.
“That about sums up my review. I did, in the end, have a lot of fun playing it. And, well, if you liked this video or want more of me playing this game, or anything else, let me know? I’m looking to branch out a bit, I suppose, and I’d love to hear your input. Thank you, everybody. Have a nice day.”
Dovid grinned and had his phone out, typing a message to Sam in the next moment.
Dovid Rosenstein: Hey! Just saw your latest video on Brightforest. It seems like a cool game! And it was a good idea uploading it Sunday. I also liked how you asked for input at the end. That was a good touch. You’ll probably get a lot of comments with video and gaming suggestions now.
Sam Doyle: Thank you so much. I’m glad you thought it was good. I... Apparently several people liked it a lot. I’ve gotten quite a few views on it. So much more than I expected. My view count has increased a ridiculous amount. Which, well, has been very nice for my income.
Sam Doyle: Also there have been quite a lot of donations through Ko-fi? I didn’t expect quite so many.
Dovid Rosenstein: That’s great though! And yeah, people will, actually, pay artists they like for their art. It’s really cool how the internet does that. I mean, that’s how I earn my living you know?
Sam Doyle: Oh yes, of course! I just never would have considered myself in the same level.
Dovid Rosenstein: You’re well on your way, if you were interested. Doing a variety of videos, monetizing your view count, and setting up that Ko-fi is a good start.
Dovid Rosenstein: And hey, IT is your dayjob and you don’t love it. Maybe this’ll give you some ideas.
Sam Doyle: Goodness, well. It certainly is something to think about.
Sam Doyle: Again, thank you so much. I really appreciate all that you do.
Dovid Rosenstein: Not a problem at all :)
“Hello, everybody, I’m Sam, and welcome to another episode of Let’s Play Brightforest. Since so many of you wanted to see me play the game, I thought that I could maybe continue to do a bit of a series for at least a few episodes. Dire Straits will still be going up on Friday as usual, but for the next few Sundays I’ll be posting Brightforest let’s plays too. I hope you enjoy it.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Also, I, erm, I wanted to give another thank-you to Dovid from Don’t Look Now. He’s been an absolute wonder in helping me learn how to navigate YouTube now that a few more of you have started watching me. So thank you to him, and, of course, thank you to all of you for your support.
“Now then, we last left off...”
Dovid Rosenstein: Hey! Rachel and I watched your Brightforest let’s play. I really liked the review you did (super clever, boss editing, as I told you before ;p), but it was really cool to watch you actually play the game. I like how you have to make different decisions that all affect the outcome. I’m hooked, and I’m buying Rachel the game on Steam for sure.
Sam Doyle: Thank you so much! I’m glad you liked it. The review was one thing, but I wasn’t sure how everyone would take a full-on video. But overall it got a very positive response. And you telling me you liked it is, of course, the greatest compliment of all.
Dovid couldn’t handle this, he really couldn’t.
Dovid Rosenstein: Aw. You’ll make me blush.
Sam Doyle: Oh, and I hope you didn’t mind my dedicating the episode to you.
Dovid Rosenstein: Are you kidding? Why would I mind? I was honored. You didn’t have to do that. I told you—I like talking to you. And helping out is just another way for me to do that.
Sam Doyle: Well either way, I appreciate it, and I appreciate you. And also I just wanted to say... I hope you don’t think I’m only talking to you FOR the advice. I like all our conversations.
Sam Doyle: I just wanted to clarify that.
Dovid Rosenstein: Thank you. And don’t worry—I didn’t think you were taking advantage of me or whatever. If anything I kind of felt a little like I was bothering you. Because I was contacting you to just have conversation, instead of discussing YouTube.
Sam Doyle: Oh no! You’ve been absolutely lovely on all events.
Dovid clutched at his hair. “Absolutely lovely”? And Sam was talking about him. About their conversations.
Dovid Rosenstein: Good to know :)
“Are we live?” Dovid asked. “Guys, if you can hear us, the phrase of the day is ‘barracuda.’”
“Why ‘barracuda’?” Rachel asked.
Dovid shrugged. “It popped into my head.”
“Alright then, well, Timmy from Holland says ‘barracuda,’ Oliver from Florida says ‘barracuda,’ Sandeep from England says it, so does Alex, Reign47, Theintrepidmrox—awesome name, by the way—”
“Cool! Looks like we’re up and running. So hey, guys, this is Don’t Look Now with Dovid and Rachel. I’m Dovid, Rachel’s behind the camera, and today we were going to do a review of Applebubble, a new boba tea place that just opened up in the area, but then we were hit by basically a monsoon—thanks, end-of-April showers, and, frankly, Rachel and I refuse to leave the house. So instead it’s rainy-day livestream time!”
Dovid had released the information that he and Rachel would be doing a livestream around eleven, and Twitter and chat were bustling by the time they’d got everything set up at eleven-thirty.
Sam had even said he’d be watching. He’d gotten out of work and was home making dinner, and texted Dovid to say he was excited to actually be watching a livestream live for once. It made Dovid go warm all over, to hear that from him. Especially after watching Sam’s latest Brightforest video.
Fuck, he was so in love.
He cleared his throat and went through the motions of asking where everyone was from, and then opened the floor to questions.
“You look really happy,” Rachel read, from Antonio in California. “Did something good happen?”
“I look happy?”
“You are kind of beaming your head off,” Rachel said.
“Oh.” Dovid felt his cheeks. He was indeed smiling pretty wide. “Let’s just say that I have someone in particular watching today. They haven’t been able to catch any of my streams until now, and we’ve both been looking forward to them getting to watch a live one.”
Rachel sighed in exasperation. “Surprise, surprise, but the next thirty questions are all about you being in love.”
Dovid rested his chin in his hand and did not stop smiling. “I will neither confirm nor deny that fact.”
“Oh my god, Dovid. Just announce it to the world why don’t you.” Then, “‘Oh, oh, is the person listening the one you’re in love with?’ Sam from Canada.”
“Hi, Sam from Canada! And quite a lot of people are listening to me today, I think. Who knows? If I am in love, it might be with one of them.”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Rachel said flatly.
Dovid shrugged. “I’m happy. Hopefully that makes for good entertainment.”
“You do realize that someone in particular, who, as we have established, is watching, might be making some assumptions now, right?”
“What can I say? I’m feeling brave. Hear that guys? You’re making me feel brave!”
“Oh, for pity’s sake—”
“Next question?”
Rachel sighed again. “Moving on, Natalie from the Netherlands wants to know if you’re going to be doing another baking segment soon, because she really likes them.”
“Oh cool, yeah, sure, Natalie, I can do that. Anything in particular you guys want to have me bake?”
Sam stared wordlessly at his screen.
Dovid couldn’t possibly have meant—
No, no that was...that was ridiculous. Not Dovid. Not smart, handsome, clever, creative, successful—
He couldn’t possibly be interested in boring old Sam. Sam was a nobody. He was terribly unexciting. He worked in IT. He liked quiet, and tea, and video games, and reading.
And yet...
And yet Dovid had said he’d liked that Sam liked all those things.
He’d said that he respected Sam’s opinions. That he thought Sam was one of the nicest people he’d ever met.
He’d said that Sam was special.
And...
And he’d just insinuated that he was in love with him.
Sam swallowed, throat dry. He couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t wished, hoped it were true.
But was he brave enough to bring it up when they talked next, if Dovid didn’t?
After the livestream was over and Rachel was putting away the lights and camera, Dovid helping to clean up the mess of boxes and wrappers and food—Rachel would help him sort through it all later—he eagerly checked his phone, hoping for a message from Sam.
There wasn’t one.
Trying not to feel too crushed, Dovid thought about what to do next. He’d basically gone and all but out-and-out declared his love for Sam on his channel during a livestream.
Sam had said he hadn’t minded the speculation.
But...
But he might have minded things now, now that they no longer were just speculation.
Dovid tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. Had he done the wrong thing? He’d wanted to come clean about his feelings, and this was one of the ways he knew how. He’d been giddy.
Shit, fuck, he’d just done the equivalent of proposing to someone in a public place. He had done that; the internet was as much a public place as any. More so. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He must have made Sam uncomfortable. And now there was no way to take it back. He could not put the video up on YouTube, but there were still all the people who’d tuned in, who’d be buzzing.
And Sam knew. Sam knew now, he had to know. Dovid hadn’t been subtle and now—
Now Dovid might have gone and just ruined everything.
Sam picked up his phone. Put it down again. Moved to write a message and stopped. Dovid hadn’t sent him anything. The last thing Sam wanted to do was assume. Assume that Dovid really had been talking about him, and not somebody else. Somebody else who was probably attractive and funny and interesting. Who was more extroverted.
Who lived on the same bloody continent.
He went to wash his dinner dishes, to at least give himself something to do, instead of think about what Dovid could possibly have meant. If he had meant those words for Sam. Sam wanted them to be. God, did he want them to be.
He finished his dishes and set them to dry, checked his phone. Still nothing.
Should he send a message first? Maybe that’s what Dovid was waiting for. If Sam at least sent out a message, he wouldn’t have to stew like this just wondering.
In the end, he tried for something simple, unambiguous.
Sam Doyle: Hi, Dovid. I was able to watch your livestream today, like we talked about. It was so interesting to see it while it was actually live! And it was nice to see you so happy :)
There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?
Either way, he’d sent it off now. Nothing else to do but wait. If Dovid replied and acted normal, Sam would know he couldn’t have possibly been talking about him.
If he didn’t...
Sam would just wait and see.
Dovid got Sam’s message and instantly got all twisted up into knots. What did Sam mean, it was nice to see Dovid happy? Did he get the message? He didn’t sound upset, but it was easy not to sound upset when things were just words on a screen.
Did he know what Dovid had meant? Had he maybe thought it had been a joke?
“For fuck’s sake, just ask him,” Rachel said, exasperated. “He’s spent this much time talking to you, he has to like you.”
“Liking me is different from liking me back,” Dovid pointed out. “And if he doesn’t, I’ll have ruined, like, the best relationship I’ve ever had.”
“You’re not even in a relationship with him!”
“He’s my friend, Rachel. He’s my friend and I value that.”
“Yes, but you’re also totally dopey about him and want to kiss his face a bunch.”
“Maybe,” Dovid muttered. “My point still stands.”
“If you don’t ask him, I will.”
“Don’t you dare.”
“I mean it. You two need an intervention.”
“If he doesn’t—”
“If he doesn’t what? He’s mentioned being shy in his videos like a dozen times. I bet he doesn’t even know what to do. I’ll just ask him what he thought about the video. Bam. Easy.”
“Please don’t.”
“Then you need to actually make a decision about what to do. Because you’re driving me nuts.”
Dovid took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, I’ll—I’ll talk to him.”
“You better.”
Dovid Rosenstein: Hey, Sam! Could we talk?
Sam Doyle: Of course. What’s up?
Dovid Rosenstein: I mean talk talk. On the phone. If that’s cool with you?
Sam swallowed, but made himself call Dovid’s number.
“Sam! Hey.”
“Hi, Dovid. How’re you doing?”
“Really good now that, uh, now that I’m talking to you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. I got your message. I—I’m glad you liked the video.”
Sam tried for a smile. Dovid sounded about as nervous as Sam felt. Why? “I really did! It’s amazing how many people talk to you from all over the world. And it’s so interesting. I feel like I learn a dozen more neat facts about you every time I watch another one of your videos.”
“I’m glad. And, uh, about what else you said. My being happy? Yeah, I was happy. I was really happy. Because you were watching me.”
Sam’s breath caught. “Dovid—”
“I was talking about you. In—in the video. I was talking about you.”
Sam opened his mouth, but couldn’t manage a sound. He squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by those words. Dovid loved him. Dovid loved him. Dovid thought Sam was someone worth loving.
“Sam? Sam, please say something.” Dovid’s voice was small and afraid, and Sam never wanted him to sound like that ever again.
“I—” He still didn’t know what to say. “I was hoping you were,” he blurted out. “But I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to assume.”
“Well. Now you’re not assuming. Because I’m telling you. It—it doesn’t bother you?” A pause, followed by, “You...you were hoping I was?”
“Yes,” Sam said. Easily. It was easy to say it aloud, now that he knew Dovid felt the same way. “Yes, of course. Dovid, you’re wonderful. I said it before, that anyone would be lucky to have you. I meant it then. I mean it now. The thought that you like me makes me so happy. I don’t—I don’t know what I can say.”
“Oh god, you just said so much. I’m really happy. I’m so, so happy.”
Sam knew his smile was watery when he said, “I’m so glad.”
“Yeah. Yeah I...”
“Yes?”
“I wish I could see you,” Dovid said quietly.
Sam was about to say you can or offer to Skype when he remembered why Dovid couldn’t.
“What else could I do?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“So you could see me. Without, um, actually seeing me. How would you like to—I could do something. If you wanted. I’m not quite sure what but—erm. I’d try?”
Dovid laughed. “God, I lo-like you so much. Honestly, if we were any closer it would be touching. That’s one of the ways I see. Um, scent too. People smell different. Their natural odors, their shampoos, body wash, deodorant, if they wear aftershave or perfume. Rachel always smells like coconut and tea tree oil.”
“I wear a cologne,” Sam said. “Um. I could...send you some?”
“What, really?”
“I mean, if that’s not too weird.”
“No, no, that would be awesome. Actually, uh—” He cut himself off. “No, nevermind, sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. You haven’t even asked anything. Go ahead.”
“I...” Dovid sounded flustered. It was cute. “If you have maybe, um. A shirt? That you don’t mind, um, parting with? Like an old one.”
“I have sleep shirts,” Sam said. “Would that work? I could send you one.”
“Fuck, you mean it?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t have offered if I weren’t sure.” He hesitated before adding, “And to be quite honest, I, ah, very much enjoy the idea of you in one of my shirts.”
“Fuck.”
“Was that alright to say?” Sam asked uneasily. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—”
“You have no fucking idea what you do to me,” Dovid said. “Believe me, the last thing that sentence did was make me uncomfortable. I love the idea of wearing one of your shirts. Please send me one. I’ll text you my address.”
“Alright.”
“If—if you don’t mind sharing your own address, I could send you one of mine too.”
“Oh,” Sam said. “I think I’d like that very much.”
“I told you so,” Rachel crowed. “Did I not tell you so?”
“Yes,” Dovid said happily. “You absolutely did. You were right. You were so right. I can’t believe it. He likes me back.”
“He likes you back.”
“He’s going to send me one of his shirts,” he said gleefully.
“Dovid.” Rachel came up to him and clapped him on the shoulder. “I am very happy for you. When he eventually visits, let me know so I can say hi in person, and then go visit Mom and Dad for a week.”
“What? Why?”
“Because you’ll want to pound him into the mattress or vice versa, and I refuse to be around to listen to that through the bedroom walls.”
“Oh my god, Rachel.”
“What? Is it not true?”
“No, it actually isn’t. I don’t even know if Sam is sexual. I didn’t ask. And it’s never come up in his videos.”
“Huh. That’s a tricky question to ask too. Not everyone goes around wearing buttons.”
“Not to mention I can’t see the buttons. But no, yeah, I... It won’t be an issue for probably a long time.” As much as it sucked, Dovid didn’t exactly have any plans to go to Ireland anytime soon, and he wasn’t about to ask Sam to come to Seattle for a visit. Even if Dovid really wanted to be able to be with Sam in person. Just to touch him. Hold his hand.
Kiss him, if Sam was into that.
“Alright, I have no idea where you went,” Rachel said, “but come back down to earth. We have social media to attend to.”
“Fine, fine.”
Sam Doyle: Good morning! I hope you’re doing well. I just wanted to let you know that I got your package. Thank you so much! I wasn’t expecting quite so many things, but the candies and snacks all look very interesting.
Sam Doyle: And the shirt is perfect, thank you. It obviously doesn’t fit quite right (I’m afraid I’m rather tall and gangly), but it’s really soft, so it’s nice to sleep in.
Dovid grinned.
Dovid Rosenstein: Hey! Glad you liked the care package. I woke up in YOUR shirt this morning, which was basically the best. And that’s interesting to know you’re tall! I never actually asked before, what you look like.
Sam Doyle: Oh, well, I could describe myself? If you wanted.
Dovid Rosenstein: Oh yeah, please :)
Sam Doyle: Alright. Well, as I said, I’m quite tall. 189 centimeters. Long-limbed, you know. My mum always used to say I was all elbows and knees. I never quite grew out of that stage.
Dovid Rosenstein: Okay, I just googled the conversion and wow, you’re 6’2”? I’m only 5’10”.
Sam Doyle: Oh yes, I remember you saying. But that’s still tall!
Dovid Rosenstein: Haha, don’t worry, I’ve never cared about my height. Rachel’s only 5‘6”, and she’s forever going on about how unfair that is. Anyway, keep going?
Sam Doyle: Okay, well, um, I’m a redhead. Which I understand is so ridiculously stereotypical, but there it is. I’m clean-shaven, because I look abysmal with a beard. And I’m absolutely covered in freckles. I spend three minutes out in the sun and there always seems to be more of them. My ears stick out a bit—they’re rather big.
Sam Doyle: I’m not all that much to look at, to be honest.
Dovid Rosenstein: I have a hard time believing that. But also, like, guess how much that matters to me?
Sam Doyle: It doesn’t bother you? I mean, even if you can’t see me, most other people can.
Dovid was suddenly furious. For Sam to react like that, someone must have obviously said something to him. Maybe when he was younger, or recently, and maybe more than once. And that was just so patently unfair.
Dovid Rosenstein: Fuck ’em. You’re amazing, and you’re beautiful. Am I not allowed to have an opinion, just because I can’t see?
Sam Doyle: No, no, of course not. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to imply your opinion wasn’t important. Of course it is. I—you’re right. Actually, your opinion is rather the most important one.
Sam Doyle: It IS important to me. I’m sorry.
Dovid Rosenstein: No, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, like, come off all aggressive. That wasn’t aimed at you. I’m just, I don’t know, mad on your behalf.
Sam Doyle: But why?
Dovid Rosenstein: Because it sounds like someone, at some point, told you you weren’t attractive. And that’s just not true. Even if I cared about looks (which, surprise, I don’t), I’m already attracted to you. Just because of who you are. I’m attracted to you, so you’re attractive. Boom. Done.
Dovid Rosenstein: ... Sorry, I didn’t mean to get weird on you.
Sam Doyle: No, ah, that was beautiful. It’s a little odd to hear it being said about me, but thank you. I mean it.
Dovid Rosenstein: How about I just keep telling you that until you get used to it :)
Sam Doyle: I’m blushing right now, so you know.
Dovid Rosenstein: Yeah? Oh, oh, you’re a redhead—does that mean your blushes stand out more? Do your cheeks go all hot when you blush? I need to know this. For science.
Sam Doyle: I never thought about it. I... I suppose it’s fairly obvious when I blush, yes. I get all red. It’s very embarrassing.
Dovid Rosenstein: Nooo, don’t be embarrassed! It’s cute.
Sam Doyle: Haha, if you say so.
Dovid Rosenstein: I mean it. You’re so cute. I kind of want to kiss your whole face.
Then he cursed. Idiot.
Dovid Rosenstein: But like, only consensual kissing, duh. And it’s cool if you don’t like kissing! I’m also big on holding hands. And hugs. I’m kind of hugely tactile? But if you’re not that’s okay too. And I guess it doesn’t really matter a whole bunch right now considering we’re a continent apart. Just, whatever you want and are comfortable with. Seriously, I’ll be happy enough just talking to you.
Which was another example of just how much Dovid liked Sam. Because he was hugely tactile (and very sexual). But if Sam wasn’t...
For Sam, Dovid would take that and be okay.
Fuck, he was so in love.
Dovid Rosenstein: Sorry, went a bit on a ramble there, haha. Feel free to ignore me.
Sam Doyle: No, no! Sorry I might have gotten stuck there, a little. I’m not entirely sure how to respond.
Sam Doyle: Also I’m blushing quite a lot now, I think.
Dovid Rosenstein: Hey, hey, it’s okay. If you don’t have anything to say, or don’t know what to say, or don’t want to say anything, that’s cool. I just wanted to lay my cards on the table. Again, not that it matters super much right now but uh. I’m thinking that maybe, in the long-term, we’d meet up.
Sam Doyle: Oh, that would be wonderful!
Sam Doyle: I’d like to think we would be long-term too.
Sam Doyle: And I...about the rest of it. Um.
Dovid Rosenstein: It’s alright, really. You don’t have to say anything.
Sam Doyle: I want to though. I’m just unsure as to how to phrase it. But I suppose just coming out with it is the best thing to do.
Dovid Rosenstein: I’m all ears, whatever you want to say.
It took almost three minutes before Sam’s next message came through.
Sam Doyle: I, um, I haven’t done very much at all, I’m afraid. I don’t have a lot of experience at all, really. And I know you do, that you’ve said as much in your videos. And that that’s important to you in a relationship. And so I admit that I’m just, you know, wondering a little bit about how not to be a disappointment in the event we do meet up, because that’s the last thing I’d want to be.
Oh. Wow.
There was a lot to extrapolate from that.
But first off, he wanted to nip something in the bud.
Dovid Rosenstein: Okay, one, that is not a disappointment. That would never be a disappointment. YOU are not a disappointment, no matter what your experience is. All that means is we’d get to experiment and figure out what you’d like :)
Dovid Rosenstein: If you like anything at all. And if you don’t, that’s okay too.
Sam Doyle: No, well, I, I do like holding hands. (Goodness that sounds so childish to say.)
Dovid Rosenstein: Hey no. It’s sweet. And that can be really intimate.
Dovid Rosenstein: I pretty much like all physical contact. I’d really like to hold your hand :)
Sam Doyle: You are not making this blushing business any better, I hope you know.
Dovid Rosenstein: :) :) :)
Dovid Rosenstein: But seriously, that’s a good place to start. Whatever comes after—IF anything comes after—you don’t have to worry about that now.
Sam Doyle: Thank you.
Dovid Rosenstein: Of course.
Sam Doyle: I think I’d like to, you know.
Dovid Rosenstein: Like to what?
Sam Doyle: Kiss you.
Dovid bit his lip and tried to keep his breathing even.
Dovid Rosenstein: Well then. One day we’ll figure out how to make that happen.
Dovid Rosenstein: Are you still awake?
Sam Doyle: Yes.
Dovid Rosenstein: Could I call?
Sam Doyle: Please do :)
“Hey you,” Dovid said quietly, once Sam picked up the phone. “Sorry I called so late.”
“It’s okay,” Sam replied. “I wasn’t asleep yet, just—”
“Reading?”
Sam laughed. “I’m not going to change anytime soon, am I?”
“Please don’t. I like you.”
“Well then. I’ll endeavor to keep at it. Anyway, how did filming go?”
“Pretty good. We decided to do the food truck tour. What with the weather getting warmer, more of them are out. Rachel and I ate so much food. Rachel’s coma-ing it out while I talk to you. We’ll be hitting the editing hard in an hour or so.”
“So I get you for a whole hour?”
“How about you get me until you fall asleep. It’s eleven-thirty for you, right?”
“Maybe.”
“Sam, you need to be going to bed earlier. You always say you’re wiped in the morning.”
“But if I go to bed earlier, sometimes I miss talking to you,” Sam pointed out. “You can’t always be free at eleven in the morning. It’s the middle of the day for you.”
Dovid sounded decidedly grumpy when he said, “I’d make the time.”
“Oh stop, that’s not fair to you. If I weren’t talking to you on the phone, I’d be up just as late reading anyway. And, frankly, you’re more important to me than a book, no matter how exciting it is.”
“Aw.”
Sam smiled. “You know I mean it.”
A sigh. “Yeah. How are your ribs doing today?”
“Much better! I’m only taking my pain medication to sleep now, because lying down still hurts. But they’re well on their way to being fully healed. They barely bother me at work, sitting at my desk.”
“I’m glad.”
Sam chuckled. “Me too, believe me. So that’s what your plan is for the rest of the day? Editing?”
“Mm-hm. Though a nap might be in order for me too, honestly.”
“Oh dear, why are you so tired?”
“Just woke up early after a late night, is all. Sometimes my body hates me.” Right, Dovid had mentioned that once in a while he just woke up really early for no reason, and nothing could get him to fall back asleep again. He mostly dealt with it by taking naps.
“Well then, you’ve certainly deserved a nap too,” Sam said.
“Can I tell you something?”
“Of course.”
“I took a leaf out of your book; I’m already in bed.”
Sam grinned. “So if we close our eyes, we can just imagine we’re lying next to each other.”
There was a quiet gasp, followed by a shaky, “Y-yeah. Yeah, we could. And I don’t even have to close my eyes.”
“There you go,” Sam said softly. The conversation felt light and easy, but with a distinct sleepy haze. Intimate, in a way yesterday’s more awake conversation wasn’t. “I’m just there, right next to you.”
Another gasp. “Yeah?”
“Mm-hm.” Alighting on an idea, he added, “You can feel it, can’t you? Me reaching out to touch you?”
There was a sharp intake of breath. “Wh-where?”
“Your cheek, I think. Just softly. And then your arm, so you could feel I was there.”
A noise that sounded like a whimper. “Then what?”
Sam thought about it. “I think I’d curl my fingers around yours. Pull in you close. I’d—I’d like to hold you.”
“Fuck,” Dovid whispered in Sam’s ear.
Pleased, he continued. “You’d like that? Like me holding you?”
“Sam.” The word sounded punched out. “Fuck, Sam, yes. So much.”
“We’d fall asleep like that,” Sam murmured. “Wrapped around each other. I’d press a kiss to your hair before we both drifted off.”
A quiet sound, almost a sob. “I wish you were really here.”
Sam stared up at his ceiling. He could picture it; holding Dovid close. His long limbs would actually be good for something, being able to wrap around the man he loved. Besides, touching meant so much to Dovid, and Sam only wanted to give him everything he could. “So do I.”