The rest of the date Saturday was wonderful for both Sam and Spencer. The younger was uncertain about going to the fair, having not been to one since childhood, and wasn't positive he could walk through it without having an anxiety attack. Spencer stayed with him all day, large, warm hands calmly rubbing soothing circles in his wrist or at the nape of his neck. Spencer made sure he got sunscreen, insisting even when he got whines and weak protests on applying it himself to the deathly pale boy. Claiming he was concerned Sam would get sunburn from spending so much time in direct sunlight. Sam found it sweet and amusing, that the man was so worried. He hadn't genuinely wanted him to stop, contrary to his protests.

He had a great time, more fun than he had originally expected. They rode rides, watched K-12 animals in competition, and ate fairground food; funnel cakes, elephant ears, and meals from food trucks. Sam enjoyed petting the animals in the tiny zoo, cooing over baby goats, and marveling at how large bulls horns can grow. Spencer sneaked pictures of Sam kneeling down in hay to pet the tiny baby animals or anything that came close enough. He was pleased to see Sam out of his head for a few hours, too distracted by everything. He observed nothing held Sam's attention for long, the longest he spent doing an action was exactly six minutes. Sam bounced around like a child in a candy store or on Christmas morning. He wanted to pet all the animals, go inside the buildings to look at all the stands of homemade goods or sponsors, and walk around a trailer with furs and taxidermy creatures.

The trailer, which was sure to belong to a hunter or Taxidermist, saddened Sam. The thought of people killing living creatures with hearts for simple fur is disheartening to him, but he finds Taxidermy fine in certain topics. Wild animals are off limits to him, they shouldn't be killed just to be decorations. A pet, an animal that loved and gave companionship, that was a part of the family and passed away suddenly; he understands. That's a way to keep a beloved member of the family around and could help someone in mourning them. Spencer quickly distracted Sam once he noticed the boy's mind was starting to work on negative thoughts of the dead animals. Instead, he pointed out that Sam hadn't gotten to see the horse shows just yet.

The reminder did the trick, Sam brightening up and snatching the amber-eyed man's hand to run towards the barns. They had a blast watching different horses do jumps or small shows for competition, a small race track to run in. They playfully bet against each other on who would win, with no money involved, and just for fun. Then Sam dragged them to the dog jumping show, where dogs catch a frisbee while jumping in the water. They saw a tractor-pulling contest, people watched while sitting to rest their feet. Talking about anything that came to mind and more of the BDSM dynamics, Sam expressed he hopes being a sub can help him. He knows nothing will magically disappear, and he'll still have issues with an overreacting mind, but the hope that it'll at least help a bit is there.

Once they left, Spencer kept his word and drove them to the ice cream shop. He allowed Sam to pick any flavors and toppings he wanted and bought him three when he couldn't decide between them. Sam attempted to protest, but a stern look from his date had his cheeks coloring a pretty pink and his mouth closing quickly. The man even got the dog's little puppy cups of ice cream, remembering their favorite flavors and add-ons. At the apartment, Spencer opened the door for him and they sat on the couch surrounded by dogs, watching any movie Sam could think of while they ate. Sam was loose, relaxed, enough from the day, and felt such a nice sensation of safety from Spencer, that he grew bolder to move closer over the course of the night.

By the time he fell asleep, he was curled up against the sturdy, firm side of the man with a large arm around him. Keeping him warm and safe. Sam is delighted, overjoyed, that he agreed to go on a date with Spencer. He hasn't had so much fun in years, Charlie hadn't been able to visit since his last vacation, nearly two years ago by now. He'll be very proud of Sam for going to a fair, especially for a date. He is proud of himself. However, he feels embarrassed, foolish even, that he had such a reaction to the thought of going. All the workup in his mind, nearly overworking himself and the oven at work, all just to go and have a great time. Spencer really did take his mind off things by simply speaking to and checking on him, laughing along with him, and not minding how often his attention was grabbed by various things.

He almost can't believe it actually happened, needing to look up to make certain it wasn't a dream. Spencer had fallen asleep as well, laid out on the couch with his feet hanging over the edge of the arm, head resting uncomfortably against the other hard arm of the furniture. Sam is laid out on top of the massive chest, stuck between the couch and the broader man. The steady breathing is soothing, the beat of his heart as well and Sam rests his ear directly over where the organ pumps blood. He takes strange comfort in knowing he is listening to Spencer live, that he won't suddenly disappear or die.

Or it's because listening to a dog's breathing and heart are slightly different from humans, he realizes. He has always had a fascination with laying with his dogs, just feeling them breathing or laying a hand over their heart, just to do so. It could also be a check for health. If they breathe differently or their heart is beating abnormally fast, he could call the vet and ask questions faster. It's better to ask than not do anything until it's too late, Sam justifies. In an attempt to stop thinking, he closes his eyes and snuggles into the firm yet yielding muscles under his head. Trying to get closer to the rhythm of the blood-pumping organ under flesh and bone, wanting the sound to distract him.

Above his head, Spencer's lips twitch into a smirk. He had felt Sam awaken and while he had mostly dozed off again, he had felt the attempt to get closer and took an educated assumption of what the boy wanted. So without hesitation, he slides his hand from the slim waist up onto the arms, over his fragile shoulders, and grasps the nape of Sam's neck in an unyielding grip. It's enough to feel, fingertips digging into the muscle to lightly massage, but not hurt Sam. A spike of warmth pings in his chest when the body on his loses all tension, going lax, and a pleasant sigh brushes along the pectoral muscle his boy's head is laying on. Spencer keeps his eyes closed, waiting with a shocking amount of patience for Sam to slip back into cozy sleep. It doesn't take long, the grip and soothing massage at his nape pulling him into a sense of safety and mollifying his mind.

When his boy's breathing is steady and deep, he opens his eyes to look down at him. The blue in his hair is faded, now pastel baby blue more than the bright ocean. The grey eyes are hidden under the eyelids and lashes, Spencer's favorite facial feature. The pale skin, nearly white, is slowly draining the color from blush as Sam's body resets for sleep. For all the coltish boy thinks himself dull, Spencer sees an attractive man, even with his nervousness and anxiety, and working mind. He is happy he had run into Sam by the elevator, his plan has been working wonderfully and the obsession that was planted in that first meeting has only grown. He can't wait until he has Sam in every way possible, without causing harm, which would be counterproductive to what he's aiming for.

The fair was a pleasurable day, he enjoyed it quite a bit. Seeing Sam carefree for a few hours was his favorite sight of the day, and he's glad he captured that in the pictures he took. He had sneaked as many as he could, Sam with animals, eating, drinking, smiling. Spencer hasn't seen Sam smile so widely, he was purely happy and the dominant is delighted at that fact. It'll be a difficult adjustment when they finally get into a conversation about how to move forward, Spencer needs Sam to understand what kind of dynamic he is aiming for.

Sam needs to willingly want to hand over control, follow orders easily and agree to rules or schedules. Punishments may be harder for him to understand or be willing to do, after all, he has been independent for most of his life and hasn't been punished before as an adult. It'll be vastly different from his parents' discipline. Sam had to have come across a list of various punishments on the internet, he shouldn't be as shocked as Spencer is imagining. He guesses Sam will have a reaction to them that is similar to ignorant curiosity about the need for that kind of discipline. Spencer will explain anything the younger wants to know, however, there is a chance he'll tell some falsehoods to better mold Sam to fit as his Sub.

He'll be the best boyfriend and Dom he can possibly be, but his goal is to have Sam and he wants to do anything he can to ensure that. No harm will come to him, never, not on my watch. That is the last thing the man ever wants, no one will touch Sam without being known by them or trusted. He'll be free of strangers and won't need to stress over conversations with others when he has Spencer scaring them off. Sam will have a personal bodyguard to run to if, on the rare chance, someone does mess with him and the taller man will quickly take care of it. There's only one issue that could ruin this; his job. He has a career and a rather large following on the internet, at some point, a stranger will leak a picture of them together.

He'll need to warn Sam before that happens and, preferably, get ahead of it. Post on youtube, and any social media he has to show that he had adopted three gorgeous dogs and met a stunning man that has become his new family. Hopefully, the sudden attention on Sam won't terrify him, however tiny a chance that is. If going on a single date gains such an intense reaction, there is no way he could handle thousands of strangers on the internet trying to gather information on him. They'll be people following him and messaging, throwing hate comments and death threats because that's what the internet is. All of it will only horrify his skittish boy.

Unless does he have any social media? Instagram, Twitter. Spencer fights the urge to go through Sam's phone, laying innocently on the coffee table. I could always take the accounts away or add mine to his, that way I can monitor what he's being told. His hand runs through the baby blue hair, soft and silky between his fingers. He nods to himself slightly, deciding to just add his own accounts to Sam's, and delete hate or threats directed at him before he can see them. Or just private the account, if it's not already. Pausing his thoughts, he comes to the simple conclusion to wait until they get that far in the relationship. He has far more important things to do before that, like taking Sam on more dates and getting him to agree to be his boyfriend.

Spencer is shaken from his thoughts when a wet nose sniffs at his ear, reflectively he jerks, but is able to stop the movement to not wake Sam up. Turning his head, he's faced with three sets of heads, eyes boring into him like panting breaths. He smiles and pets them, gaining licks at his hands in return. Carefully, he slides out from under Sam, pausing to be certain he is still asleep before following the dogs to the kitchen. They don't herd him as they do Sam, not even whispering barks or bothering their human on the couch.

As if they already know he's going to feed them or just sense he won't tolerate being pushed around, possibly both; they're intelligent animals. He allows them to do what they normally would for Sam; pulling the fridge open with a rag and taking out little bags filled with carrots, strawberries, and apples from the bottom shelf. He softly closes the door back when they're done, going around to gather what he's seen Sam use. There are measuring cups with labels to mark how much each dog gets of everything, most likely to help Sam remember. Preparing the bowls takes a long minute, there are powders and dry food with small treats that help joints or digestion, a bit of water to mix, and then the carrots, strawberries, or apples. Fenrir, the oldest Doberman, has apples in a bag hanging in his mouth; He gets apples. Cerberus, the middle child of a Great Dane, wants carrots. Finally, Orthrus, the youngest Boxer, asks for strawberries.

Spencer leaves them to eat, going ahead and stealing eggs from the fridge, and running across the hall to grab his bacon. Preparing breakfast for him and Sam is easy, he may not be a baker or chef, but he is decent at simple meals. He starts coffee as well, promising himself he'll get Sam to drink water on their walk afterward. Checking on Sam gains seeing his grey eyes open as he watches from the couch, curled up in the spot Spencer left that must've been warm. The man grins and sets a cup of coffee on the table, "Morning, pretty boy."

Sam rubs his eyes with a fist, yawning as he sits up. "Good morning. Did they wake you up? I'm sorry."

Running a hand through the tangled blue hair to smooth it out, the dominant smiles. "Nah, I don't mind. They helped me figure out what to do. You needed some rest anyway, and now you need to eat real food. So, sit and wait for me, okay?"

Sam glances at the dogs, happily eating away, and smells bacon, eggs, and toast with the scent of coffee. His home hasn't smelt so good, cozy and warm, since he moved in. He nods, suddenly starving. "Okay."