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He's at it again. Gil, who is very good at getting what he wants-- well, is getting what he wants from Sam. The two are in a small dressing room perhaps used as a closet. Whatever, it’s empty of people and full of things. It’s a good place to be alone. Gil pushes on Sam, kissing at his lips blindly. He misses often, getting the corner of Samuel's mouth, above his lips, on the chin.The shorter of the two can barely keep up, Gil has full control of the situation. Each kiss on the mouth is longer than the last. More intense. There's a desk in the room at a convenient height, and Sam finds himself sliding onto it, now nearer the height as the greedy albino in front of him. Sam tugs on Gil's tunic, bringing the taller's chest much closer to his own, and Gil laughs into a kiss. The laughter in turn has Sam smiling, and he holds Gilbert still for a moment to plant kisses of his own.In this time, Gilbert touched on Sam's chest and moved his hands under his shirt, and held onto the blond's waist by the top of his pants. Following what is probably instinct, Gil starts to untie, unbutton, and pull at the waist of the pants, in attempt to get them off. Before he can get very far; Sam catches his hands and pauses all affections with a troubled look in his eyes."We need to slow down." He says. His heart is still racing, and he's a little out of breath. To this, Gil makes a face which is clearly confusion."What do you mean? Nobody will bother us in here." Gil says, and tries to resume his actions, but Sam stays firm on this."It's not that, I j-.” a pause. “I can't do this." Sam's voice is clear. At this point, Gilbert takes a step back. He doesn't seem to fully understand."Is the problem... me?" This hurts Sam a little. He doesn't know how to explain what he's feeling, his reservations, and honestly, it’s a little embarrassing."No. It's not you, it's me. I'm not ready for this ...with you... yet." He stands up off the desk and straightens his clothing. Gil remains a step away, distanced, clearly wounded. "Fine. I guess I’ll piss off until you're ready then." Gil turns towards the door, but Sam's quick to yank his arm and keep him in the room."Wait, can you take this seriously for a second-""No, Samuel, I don't want to waste your time. You have to get ready to fuck someone like me." His words sting."Don't you put those words in my mouth. You know that's not a problem." Sam says, a strict tone in his voice."Well then don't give me that 'I'm not ready' shit, you sure look ready to me." Gil gestures to Sam's pants, which have an obvious sort of problem. "...My head and my body don't always think the same." Sam covers the area with his shirt, somewhat upset that it came up in conversation."I've noticed." Gil is still clearly pissed. This sets Sam off, it's completely uncalled for."Gilbert I'm scared of doing this. Is that what you want to hear?" His voice is angry, and there's a tremble to it that threatens even his ability to speak. But Sam continues. "There's nothing normal about what goes on between us. I accept that. If this keeps going full speed, I'm gonna get lost in it. I'm not doing my job, I think about this, us- you, way too much, I'm losing sleep. Gilbert you're going to kill me if we don't go a little slower. Please?" He finally stops, hoping to have gotten enough out for the other to understand. And he seems to. Again, there's no words. But Gil has always been more of an action kind of person.He pulls Sam towards himself by the shoulders, and wraps his arms around him. "Okay. Okay, this was my mistake. We can slow down. Gods, Sam." The situation felt a bit silly. To Gilbert it must've been laughable. And the hug is returned for a few seconds, only a few. Sam pushes Gilbert back more gently this time, holding onto him at arm's length, so he’s not too far away. "I'm not saying never. I'm saying not yet. Okay?""Thank gods. Okay. I'll be... patient. If that's what you need." The albino kicks absently at the floor, resignation on his face."And Gil?" Sam begins, pulling his full attention back. "You know I don't give a shit about what people think of your white hair and red eyes, right? I don't." He brushes a hand through his own hair, a stressful tic. "There were others who cared." Gil says, ."I'm not others, and I like you a lot. Your eyes aren't a problem, they're..." Samuel trails off. He's never been much good at this type of thing. The look on Gilbert’s face questions why he stopped talking, so he finishes it."They're amazing."Just like that, the wall between them crumbles again, plenty of kisses shared.