Coming Home, page 24
part #1 of Finding Shore Series
Wes had never been this turned on before.
He felt nearly faint from the arousal. His blood was all decidedly in one area of his body and if he didn’t do something soon, he was going to pass out.
“Bedroom,” he croaked out. It sounded like he had spent a week gargling salt water and gravel.
Sam grabbed his hand and led the way.
When they got to Wes’s room, Sam pushed the rest of Wes’s clothes off of him, before climbing onto the bed. Wes scrambled to join him quickly.
Sam sat against the pillows pushed against the headboard of the bed, legs straightened out on the bed. Wes took a moment just to look at him; the long lines of his body, the thin stripes of his muscles and the way his body was covered with a light dusting of hair and scars. Sam had healed from the injuries he’d received but the scars still remained, etched into his body.
It made him look stronger. Like a survivor. Wes wanted to memorize each one.
Wes straddled Sam’s thighs, one leg on either side of his hips. He placed his hands firmly on Sam’s chest, rubbing his thumbs gently across Sam’s pecs. Sam’s eyes fluttered closed.
Wes pushed harder, using the rest of his hand to massage gently at Sam’s pecs and then shoulders. Wes smiled, watching the way his body relaxed.
When Sam looked melted against the pillows, Wes moved his hands down Sam’s body. He continued pressing, alternating between hard rubs and gentle strokes, until he was at Sam’s hips.
There, he pressed into the bone and on his upper thigh, massaging the area and pretending not to notice the way Sam’s cock bobbed, desperate for attention.
Only when Sam let out a little groan of frustration and thrust his hips upwards did Wes relent. He ran his fingers gently around the area surrounding the one place Sam wanted to be touched most, rubbing at the short, soft hair that grew there.
“Wesley,” Sam groaned out, throwing his head back hard enough to hit the headboard; he didn’t even seem to notice. “Fuck, Wes, touch me.”
Shivers ran down Wes’s back. “Yes, sir,” he joked. When Sam groaned again and his hips stuttered, Wes made sure to file that away for later, too.
Wes stopped rubbing the area around Sam’s dick and slid down his body a little, positioning himself. Then, with no notice to warn Sam, Wes swallowed hard around Sam’s cock, sliding his tongue down and around the shaft.
Sam’s eyes flew open and his hips thrust upwards so hard that Wes nearly gagged. “Holy fucking shit, oh, goddamn, oh, Wes!”
Wes relaxed his throat, gently toying with the tip of Sam’s dick and the precome beading there while Sam got control of his thrusts. Wes held hard onto one side of Sam’s hip to help stop him from thrusting. When he stopped completely, Wes started moving again.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this.
He decided that it didn’t matter.
Wes moved his lips slowly, bobbing his head up and down at a deliberate and leisurely speed. He waited until Sam started to moan, his hips rocking just a little against the press of Wes’s hand and lips, before he sped up. He wrapped his tongue around the head, then slid it down the underside of Sam’s cock, long and just a little hard. Then he relaxed again and took him down as far as he could, swallowing hard.
Sam’s groans started to grow louder and louder until he was mixing praises and curses in between each guttural breath.
“Fuck, fuck, shit, oh, Wes, yes. God, you’re so good. You’re so good, Wesley, Jesus Christ.”
Wes pulled off, panting just a little, and replaced his lips with his hand. His spit and the precome dripping down made it smooth enough for Wes to move fast, fingers curled tightly and he twisted his wrist just there and—
“Fuck!” Sam jerked up. “Shit, stop.”
Wes halted immediately. “Yeah?”
“Come here,” Sam said, voice thoroughly ruined.
Wes complied immediately. When he moved up Sam’s body, his ignored, hard cock brushed against Sam’s wet, used one—both men hissed at the friction.
Wes shifted until he fell next to Sam, leaning on his side. Sam moved so he was on his side as well and they interlocked their legs. Wes sank his teeth into his bottom lip to hold in the sounds of satisfaction when their cocks once again brushed.
“Fuck,” Sam said, shaking his head. He leaned in and they kissed, softer than usual, but just as intense. Wes wondered if every kiss with Sam would be intense—would feel earth shattering.
Wes buried his head into Sam’s neck, kissing and nibbling gently at the skin there. Sam sighed in a perfectly satisfied way and Wes’s heart surged in tandem with his blood.
Sam threw one arm around Wes’s waist, pulling him closer. They joined together, aligning their hips, and rocking into one another. Wes laid his head back and held onto Sam’s shoulders, fingernails digging into the skin there. He held on tightly enough to leave marks but Sam didn’t complain, merely pulled Wes even closer.
“I want you,” Sam said, low in his throat. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Wes felt the heady rush of Sam’s desire as something tangible against his skin.It covered him and he wanted to melt it into his muscles, carry it always on top of him like armor.
They kissed again. They kissed until Wes became convinced there was no start of his lips and end of Sam’s, but instead, they were creating something new and just theirs between their lips.
“Please,” Wes murmured between their kisses, again and again and again until Sam pulled back.
“What do you want?” He asked, blinking rapidly as if trying to clear his own fog from his head. “Please, tell me, Bright Eyes.”
“You,” Wes struggled to explain how thoroughly he wanted Sam, how entirely and completely. “I just need you, please.”
Sam cocked his head to the side, raising his eyebrows.
Wes nodded to an unasked question. He slid one hand up and cupped Sam’s cheek, running his thumb across Sam’s cheekbone. “Please.”
“I—I don’t have anything.”
Wes blinked, trying to think. “I—I do. Hold on.” He shifted, sitting on his knees. His cock was still hard and red and he did his best to ignore it as he dug in the nightstand. He pulled out a pack of condoms and lube, offering it to Sam wordlessly.
Sam swallowed hard once, then twice, before he looked up at Wes. “You’re sure?”
Wes nodded eagerly. “Please. If you are.”
“I am,” Sam said quickly. “Yes, absolutely.”
Wes’s lips quirked up in a half smile. “Who’s impatient now?”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Still you.”
Wes slapped his arm softly, bouncing back on the bed and sitting next to Sam. Sam took the condoms and lube from him, looking at the packages. “Never been opened.”
Wes studiously pretended not to be blushing. “I had high hopes for our date, I guess.”
Sam’s head snapped to Wes. He stared blankly for a second before bursting into laughter. “Oh, Wes. You’re—”
“Handsome and charming?” Wes inserted, a bit hopefully.
Sam smiled, tilting his head. He leaned over and kissed Wes’s forehead. “Precisely.”
Sam sat the items beside them on the bed, before turning. He put one arm around Wes, fist on the bed to prop him up just a little above the smaller man. Wes looked up at him, a little bit enthralled by his entirety.
Sam leaned down and pressed his lips to Wes’s. Wes moved closer winding one hand around Sam’s neck, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck. It was soft and nice and when Wes had enough of soft and nice, he tugged hard.
Sam’s mouth opened wide in a gasp and Wes took advantage of his momentary surprise and deepened the kiss, tilting his head and pressing even closer to Sam. He pressed his chest flat against Sam’s, their hips rotating and lifting up to meet one another.
“Sam,” Wes murmured the name when he broke free to inhale deeply, exhaling before kissing him again. Sam’s hands roamed his body, fingernails scraping against his biceps and down his back, almost enough to hurt. Wes let out a soft, whining sound when Sam started massaging into the flesh of Wes’s ass, grabbing him as leverage to push himself further against Wes. Their thrusts continued in a nearly desperate way until Wes was harder than he thought he’d ever been and leaking.
He couldn’t think. Could barely breathe. Didn’t know anything or want anything except Sam’s hands and mouth and cock and god, he loved this man.
“I love you,” Sam said at the same time that Wes pulled away to say it.
He smiled into Sam’s mouth. “I love you, too.”
Sam kept tilting his hips up while his hands kept massaging Wes until he felt like he was jello in Sam’s arms.
He didn’t even realize he was blabbering on his pleas and curses until Sam cursed under his breath and Wes felt the words dry in his mouth.
“Please,” Wes repeated, this time on purpose.
Sam looked at him. The color of his eyes was nearly completely gone but they were still bright. Wes thought it was silly that Sam always called him bright eyes when, really, Sam had the brightest eyes of all.
Sam hands shook when he reached behind himself to grab the abandoned lube. He put some on his fingers, a generous amount that spoke to his nerves more than anything else, and moved his hand back to Wes.
The first touch was cold enough that Wes jerked a little. The second was light enough that he focused on breathing, still and even and sure.
The third was good enough that he stopped thinking about the touches individually.
Sam worked him open slowly, deliberately. Each movement seemed as calculated as it was confident. Where he had seemed so nervous only moments before, Wes couldn’t see any nerves in the way Sam moved. It was as if he knew Wes’s body, inside and out, without even being introduced.
Sam watched his face closely while his fingers and wrist moved in confident, sure movements. Wes groaned each time he shifted, long moans drawn out of his lips in between each gasping, short breath he pushed out. Within minutes, Wes was a moaning, panting mess. His cock throbbed from the lack of attention and he pushed back hard against Sam’s fingers, uncaring at how desperate that must have looked.
He bit down on Sam’s shoulder when Sam twisted just right, a long string of curse words pouring out from between his lips and Sam’s skin.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he couldn’t stop talking, couldn’t stop feeling.
Sam’s voice broke through the haze, just barely. It sounded choked. “Oh, goddamn, Wes.”
“Now, please, now.” Wes thrust again and again against Sam’s thighs. He felt closer than he’d ever been, teetering on the edge of something that felt colossal. He felt like the universe was inside his chest and he was one wrong move from letting it all explode.
Sam pulled his fingers out slowly, wiping them against both their thighs. Wes nearly let out another whiny sound, feeling the emptiness as strongly as he’d felt the presence only a second before. He missed the feeling of Sam inside him instantly. Sam pulled the condom on quickly.
Wes flipped to the other side, his legs already jello and his body jittering with anticipation.
Carefully and smoothly, Sam slid into Wes.
They both groaned so loudly, Wes was sure he was going to be getting noise complaints.
“Shit,” Sam breathed out. He had never sounded so—Wes couldn’t describe it. Pure. Broken. Whole. He didn’t know—all he knew was that he felt the way that Sam sounded.
Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes and Wes curled his fist into the sheets, desperately trying to hold on. He forced himself to still his body, trying so hard not to come right then and there from the pressure of Sam’s hot cock inside him.
After a few moments of raggedly breathing against one another, Sam started to move. The rise and fall of his hips against Wes’s skin consumed every nerve that Wes had. He felt strung out in a thousand different ways.
Sam clutched at Wes’s hip, propping himself up so he could look down at Wes’s face. When Wes managed to open his eyes long enough to look at his lover, Sam’s expression nearly had him coming on the spot.
He looked ruined but glorious—he looked ecstatic.
Wes thrust backwards into Sam’s hips. The movement forced Wes’s body to take in all of Sam and again, both men groaned loudly.
“You look so much better than I could have imagined,” Sam said in that low throaty voice that Wes could feel in his toes. They curled at the sound of it. “You look so good, Bright Eyes.”
Wes’s chest fluttered and something akin to pride bristled underneath his skin. He rocked back into Sam, his pace becoming erratic and sharp. Sam met each thrust with one of his own, their bodies separated only by the thin layer of sweat they both wore.
“You’re so good,” Sam repeated, his own eyes closing before he wrenched them open again. Wes watched the way his tongue peeked out of his mouth, wetting his dry bottom lip. He closed his eyes and let his head loll back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he fucked hard into Wes. “You’re so good at this, so eager. Fuck, fuck, Wesley, god, so good.”
The hammering of Wes’s heart was punctuated by a particularly good shift of Sam’s hips, hitting that spot inside him just right and—
Everything inside of him collapsed. For a brief moment, there was no him or Sam or life or world—there was nothing but a moment of bright, bright light and a star in the sky exploding a thousand times over. Wes, briefly, existed inside of the star. Through his haze in a sliver of the galaxy, he could hear Sam gasp out his name.
Wes came with a long shout and a desperate, pitiful, “Oh, Sam”.
When Wes floated back down to earth and into his body, he opened his eyes, locking them with Sam, whose expression looked so awed, Wes wondered if he’d seen the star, too.
When their eyes locked, Sam’s whole body locked after one last, hard thrust against Wes. His mouth parted silently and his eyes clenched shut, face pulling together as his body rode out the pleasure.
Wes watched in rapt attention until Sam’s body relaxed and his eyes reopened.
Where before there was only pupil, Wes could see the soft blue of Sam’s eyes now.
Sam pulled out slowly, wincing. Wes took a moment to stretch his body, testing the jello-like consistency of his legs and the ache in his muscles. He twisted and his back popped loudly.
He looked up at Sam who was climbing beneath the covers. Sam covered Wes, too, and dropped a kiss on his forehead.
“Mmm,” Wes hummed, content. Sam kissed him softly on the lips. Wes barely kissed back, too spent and exhausted. Sam pulled off after a second, a small laugh bubbling beneath his smile.
“Mmm indeed,” Sam agreed.
Wes put his head on Sam’s shoulder. Sam intertwined their fingers.
For a few minutes, they said nothing. There was a bubble around them, the same sweet consistency of that gossamer potential they’d had before. This time, though, it was stronger; it was formed from their lived potential, their present. It was warm and soft and Wes decided he was never going to leave it.
It seemed like Sam came to the same conclusion a moment later.
“I don’t ever want to leave,” Sam said, closing his eyes and snuggling into the blankets.
Wes thought for half a second before the desire in his chest beat out any thought in his head. “Move in with me.”
Sam’s eyes flew opened and he looked down at Wes with wide eyes. “What?”
“Move in with me. You’re kind of technically homeless..”
“I’m staying with Dad.”
“You like me more.”
“That’s true.” Sam swallowed. “Isn’t that—fast?”
“Maybe,” Wes agreed. “Or maybe it’s years late. Do you care?”
Sam’s lips twitched and his smile widened. “No.”
“Good.”
Sam closed his eyes again. “You sure you could put up with me?”
Wes laid back again, closing his own eyes. He could still see Sam’s smile beneath his eyelids. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Sam tightened his hold on Wes’s hand. They exchanged a glance before both closing their eyes again.
“We can talk about it more in the morning,” Wes said, his sleepiness breaking through the desire to keep Sam with him in a much more permanent basis. “I’m going to win.”
“You think?” Sam sounded amused but Wes didn’t open his eyes to check. “Also, we’re not on opposite sides.”
“I’m going to win,” Wes repeated.
“How do you figure?”
“Because,” Wes yawned before continuing. “This is your home.”
And before Wes fell asleep to dreams of lazy days on the beach, dry and warm in the sun, he thought he heard Sam agree. He didn’t fight sleep enough to check—he knew Sam would be there in the morning.
Wes fell asleep feeling perfectly like he was home.
15
Sam
There was something uniquely special about feeling grounded.
Sam had spent his whole life fighting against waves. When he was a kid, he almost drowned and that feeling of water in his lungs followed him his whole life— the strong desire to expel the water, to swim harder than the sea, to become brave enough to get back in the deep end. He spent his entire adolescent and not a little of his adulthood beneath the surface of the water, trying to prove to anyone who would look that he wasn’t that same scared boy.
Later, after he had realized that fighting against the ocean was so pointless that it bordered on being stupid, Sam realized that he didn’t need to fight water. He just needed to learn how to tread it. He needed to not be afraid of it, sure, but he didn’t need to make it afraid of him, either. That was pointless and even if he had succeeded, it would have yielded the same result: one of them avoiding the other.
Sam learned that being brave wasn’t the same as doing the hard things and being strong wasn’t the same thing as having strength. He learned that being able to respect and understand the water was way more important.
