After four or five DAYS and five pages in google docs, this happened!

Good guy Joey AU. 

1,662 words of Norman and Sammy before they became official.

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  If there was one small solace in Joey Drew's system, it was that he insisted that Sammy take a break from his songwriting while he looked over the current song for the upcoming cartoons.

Sure, it usually only led to Sammy writing a song for the next cartoon out of spite, but it did relieve some of the pressure from his workload.

This month, something was different. Henry Stein, the lead animator and co-founder of the company, had finally gotten the courage to propose to his sweetheart, Linda.

Joey, having somehow gotten wind of Henry's plans, decided to have the entire studio pitch in to help. It was all an uproar, and all the while, Sammy grumbled about how finite and brittle love truly was.

Susie, having heard his latest complaint, laughed at him. Him! Had they not been in his office he would have scolded her into next week. As it was he still snapped back at her, something about cutting her paycheck.

"Aw come on then Mister Lawrence," she giggled. "No need to get all upset with me when you just haven't found your sweetheart yet."

"I have said this before. This is a passing thing. Watch. Within a year, the marriage will form cracks. Then it will start to crumble. Ruins are what await lovers; ruins, broken trust, and loneliness."

Susie gasped softly, standing upright. "Who hurt you so, to destroy the gentle and kind nature that is true love?"

"And when the hell have you gotten so damn sappy?"

"Oh, Jack's been letting me keep him company when he writes songs. Did you like that?"

"No, and get the hell out of my office."

All day long, people came in and out to discuss the plan to help Henry propose. The studio had a general agreement that they shouldn't interfere with the proposal itself, but instead on a special cartoon that featured a romantic cartoon proposal with two very special characters inspired by Linda and Henry. These characters would only be used for this cartoon, so the designs were given a little more room for creative thought and design.

By the time Joey pounded on his door demanding that the music director clock out for the night, Lawrence was alone in the studio. Fewer cartoons to work on meant fewer hours that needed to be worked, so it wasn't surprising that the other workers were headed home for the night.

Sammy pretended to do the same, if only so that Joey would get off of his back. His sanctuary was good enough for him.

....also he might have spent more money than he originally planned this month making sure his musicians had the tools they needed to make the quality of music he desired, so he had to sacrifice some of the bills.

Whatever; his reason for staying didn't matter.

Now alone (at least, to his knowledge) in the music room, Sammy picked up his banjo and sat in one of the chairs in the recording booth.

Unknown to him, the projectionist hadn't left his post.

Within the illusion of his solitude, he plucked some strings on the banjo. With the hubbub and demands of each workday, he wouldn't have the time he wanted to take care of the instrument.

But now he could do just that. And, if Norman up in the booth ever could record these secret sessions, it would testify how Sammy's teachings worked in the end, despite having been only one session done just so the music director wouldn't run himself into the ground to finish a new song.

However, that couldn't be done without Sammy finding out about things like this. What if that meant he never heard his music again? So he kept watch, for even from his perch above Sammy, he could tell what kind of things Sammy did that resulted in the music that so entranced the projectionist. With a notepad in hand, he'd keep track of every little habit that he noticed, even during the workday.

Down below, unaware of his audience, Sammy began to play a simple nothing tune. Due to his mindset, or perhaps he was simply more tired than he assumed, whatever other noises he might have heard were ignored.

But...he couldn't ignore the sounds of someone singing along to his strums. It was infuriating that this voice had hidden talent, like a hidden diamond. But it was untrained; raw and rough. If he found out who was singing, he'd force them into the recording booth if he had to.

Then again, it didn't take long for him to acknowledge where the singing was coming from.

So, he kept playing, experimenting with different chords and notes to see where Norman dropped out and where he was more confident.

Perhaps an hour later, he felt his body become heavy with exhaustion. No, he couldn't sleep now. His fingers weren't allowed to feel heavy. Eyelids, stop drooping!

Yet his body wasn't gonna listen to him. Not even as he got up to drink his eighth cup of coffee for the day (that was fine, right?). He fought this, of course, he did. Sammy's body would not shut down until he was okay with it!

Norman watched silently as Sammy slumped in his seat. Guilt for what he might have caused motivated him but at the very least, the music director was sleeping. He was also aware of the pattern that Sammy played to enter his sanctuary: just because the director shooed them all out didn't mean they couldn't hear on the other side of the door.

Also, he'd won that knowledge in a bet once. That helped more than trying to listen at the door.

So he played the projector and played the instruments, satisfied with the creaking of Sammy's sanctuary door. Picking up the unconscious music director, Norman made his way inside. Before he could second guess himself, he ran off again, scrambling to find some cots or blankets to sleep on for the night.

This led to another cardio workout to get the cots within the sanctuary, but at last, everything was in order.

Well, until Sammy started to stir. He groaned and sat up despite Norman's attempts, cots would not fit in his sanctuary. Instead, the projectionist had somehow dismantled them, laying the fabric of the cots as a sleeping mat and using whatever he could find to serve as pillows and blankets. Most of the other workers would be grateful for all of this, but Sammy Lawrence wasn't like most employees.

"What time is it, Polk?" He snapped, running his fingers through his hair. "Those damn cartoon songs don't write themselves you know."

"I reckon these songs can afford to wait a few hours. It is 2:17 am last I checked mister Lawrence, and you need your sleep."

"Sleep doesn't pay the bills," he snapped. "Let me get back to work."

"You passed out not too long ago. Go to sleep, I'll wake you up when it's time to clock in for work."

"What are you still doing here anyways? You ought to be heading home now!"

"Henry noticed how overworked you were. He wouldn't stop asking until I told him I'd make sure you got some rest."

When Sammy scoffed and rolled his eyes, Norman quickly added, "besides, the whole department's been worrying about you."

"There's no need for them to be so concerned, I'm fine."

"You down at least five cups of coffee a day and only show up to the company luncheon if someone drags you, and even then you leave before eating anything."

"We need to get the songs done and I'm the only person here that writes songs and the sound effects...so I'm so terribly sorry that I can't stop working, and cause this entire studio to fall behind in production."

"Joey's best pal is proposin' to his sweetheart in a week, and if all goes well the honeymoon will be for about three weeks. Do you think Mister Drew'll be lettin' us produce cartoons without his pal's signature touch?"

Sammy grumbled and curled on his pad. "I hate that you're right."

Norman chuckled. "Get some rest, Sammy. I'll wake you up in the morning after you get a good amount of sleep."

"How do I know you're not gonna let me sleep all day and waste time that I don't have to waste?"

"When do you think is an unreasonable time?"

"After 11:00 am."

Norman nodded, but due to the late hour, he wasn't processing the words he was speaking. "Since you're so skeptical about it...if you wake up after eleven am, then I'll take you to dinner. If not..."

"If not I'll give you music lessons."

Norman bristled in response. "You heard me earlier? What, was it so terrible?"

"It is terrible because it is good. It is insulting because there hasn't been any work to refine the talent you have."

"...oh. Thanks?"

Sammy grumbled and pushed his mat next to Norman's. "It's not a compliment, it's fact. And I'm only moving closer because Joey keeps this damn studio cold."

"I take it you enjoy the terms set in place?" Norman chuckled.

"You wouldn't let me leave until I got some sleep."

"Goodnight, Lawrence."

To Sammy's chagrin, the projectionist was asleep before he was. And worst of all, he'd sprawled across both of their mats so Sammy was faced with the decision of either sleeping on the floor or sleeping with Norman.

If Norman wasn't so heavy, he'd just move Norman aside.

At the very least, he'd be able to sleep without the risk of being discovered. That, at least, was a good reason to relax.

So, stubbornly, he eventually got himself to relax next to the projectionist, turning on his side and asleep in no time.

That would explain why he didn't punch Norman when an arm found its way across his waist. That, or the music director didn't mind the contact.

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Awwww  lookit them <3333