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keelywolfeTitle: Static Interference
Author: Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Bumblebee
Notes: I'm working on about three other stories, but this was just begging to be written. Unrepentant smut, here, I have no excuses.
Summary: Direct Sequel to 'Watching You.' Read that one first and this'll make more sense.
~~*~~
Sam had to admit to one unexpected bonus. The car cleaned up really well.
It had taken a decent amount of elbow grease and an almost obscene amount of his dad's expensive cleansers to do it. Add in a thorough google search on the proper way to make a car gleam and the Camaro was washed, exfoliated, decontaminated, polished, and then waxed to a smooth gloss.
Under the layers of dirt and dead bug parts lay a smooth, perfect shine. It was almost amazing; Sam hadn't found a single scratch to fill and he'd looked. What had looked like damage had only been like, a decade's worth of dirt and his hard work had rewarded with him with a rich yellow bisected with deep black stripes. The glossy shine was made for touching and Sam knew that because he was currently sprawled across it, his hands scrabbling frantically against that smooth finish. A desperate, fruitless search for something to hold on to while the blond guy pushed him a little higher, his mouth sweet and wet against Sam's.
He had no idea if the guy didn't want to talk or just couldn't but it was mattering less and less, Sam yielding against the hands pushing him back, pushing him down against the sun-warmed hood of his car. He barely noticed Bee twining their fingers together, raising both their hands over Sam's head and pinning them gently down. All he knew was that Bee was kissing him hungrily, like he'd be happy to do it for the rest of the night. Deeply, his tongue slick and clever against Sam's more uncertain one, coaxing it into doing things, obscene things that he'd never even considered. Especially since Sam was fairly sure he hadn't been gay this morning.
~~*~~
The day had started out pretty normal or as normal as Sam ever got. After spending epic amounts of time cleaning his car the day before, he'd woken up stiff and sore, but determined that today would be different. Today he would be normal or better than. Yes, today would begin the rest of his life, he was sure of it.
Only, it seemed like the rest of the universe hadn't gotten the memo. His mom, having no respect for the amount of work he'd put in the day before, had set him to spending the afternoon doing chores. As if that's what Saturdays were for and no amount of his mom pointing out that he could have gotten up before noon to do them was going to make that better. By the time he'd begged for his freedom, even promising to finish up on Sunday, Sam had gotten to the park late enough that most of the people there were already starting to pack up.
She was still there, though. As gorgeous and unattainable as she'd been before Sam had gotten the car, leaning against Trent like his arm was imbedded around her waist. Engaging his own stalker routine was as much a habit as brushing his teeth, only this time Sam had a car to lean against while he stared and made wishes that the universe had been ignoring since Sam had been old enough to make them.
There was no point in staying. Sam could admit that to himself. He should count himself lucky that Trent was still sitting on the ground because if Sam had been a little closer, he might have gotten a good beating to round out the day.
"Fuck this," Sam mumbled under his breath. Maybe he'd call Miles, see if he felt like playing a little Call of Duty. Somehow, the idea of blowing the heads off a few people seemed appealing.
He'd already turned back to his car, his brain moving into Xbox territory, when Sam saw him. Not even ten feet away, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Blond guy. The stalker of Sam's disturbingly wet dreams.
He was staring, just like before, with fathomless intensity and this time, Sam just stared back, like an invisible line was holding him there. What the hell did this guy want, anyway? Sam could stand here and guess or he could…ask.
Ask a question he suspected he knew the answer or maybe…maybe he hoped he knew. Clear green eyes held his own, blinking slowly, and Sam just stood there, considering.
Mikaela was still on the grass with Trent, the two of them packing up bottles and blankets, laughing together. Gorgeous Mikaela that Sam had been testing out his own stalking skills on for years.
And then came this. His own personal stalker, the blond guy standing in front of him with his hair blowing lightly around his face in the warm wind as he stared and, yeah, he was waiting. Sam could at least see this and he hesitated, almost took a step back. Only, back to where? Staring at what he couldn't have? He could keep trying for the unattainable or he could go for someone who was right there. Watching him, like he watched her.
Wavering, Sam rested one hand on the hood of his car, and then he closed his eyes, took a breath, and made a choice.
Blond guy didn't move an inch as Sam walked up to him. They were almost the same height, Sam maybe just a little taller. It was plenty warm outside but blond guy still had a jacket on. Not a varsity coat, or at least not one Sam recognized. One arm had a face embroidered on it that made Sam think of stone carvings, sharp, solemn lines. On the front left side, there was a word. A team, maybe a name?
"Hey," Sam said, awkwardly. His own stalking skills had never actually gotten to the greeting chapter.
Blond guy didn't seem to care. Sam had heard of someone's face lighting up with a smile but it seemed like it had been invented for this guy. One word and he was practically shining, his grin as brilliant as the sun. All because Sam had talked to him. Even knowing this guy had creepy stalker written all over him, it was damn hard not to be flattered when they freaking glowed for you. Almost involuntarily, Sam grinned back, his eyes flicking back to the guy's jacket and the word embroidered on it. Bee. Weird.
"Bee?" Sam asked. "Is that…your name?"
The other guy , Bee, it seemed, gave him another grin and nodded, jerking his chin a little as he tossed his blond hair out of his eyes.
Sam wet his lips and went for option B. Or Option Bee, as it were. "Did you want to take a drive?"
~~*~~
Bee hadn't spoken yet.
To be fair, he hadn't needed to. When Sam had offered him a ride, he hadn't even waited, darting over to the passenger door and barely pausing to give Sam an impatient look. And maybe Sam didn’t have all the social skills a guy needed but he did know how to take a hint, jogging over to his own side and in less than a minute he was driving away. Leaving his own choice of stalking material behind.
What he hadn't anticipated was how damned hard it would be to keep his eyes on the road. Bee sprawled into the passenger seat like it had been made for him, one leg drawn up and his knees spread wide as he kept to what he did best; staring at Sam. Only now his expression wasn't that blank, zombified look. Now there was a curve to his lips, almost a smirk, his green eyes practically glowing with smoldering heat. The jacket had been discarded and Bee's t-shirt was black and tight, molding to his body the same way the seat seemed to.
It was enough to make Sam shift a little in the driver's seat, his pants suddenly uncomfortably tight. Going from being an unnoticed nobody to the object of pure lust was a little disconcerting and Sam switched on the radio, hoping for a distraction. That was when he discovered that his radio was going to be particularly psychopathic today because every station seemed to be playing the wrong song. From sultry Motown to Nine Inch Nails, every single channel seemed to be crooning sex to him. He gave up when 'Sexyback' yowled out from his last attempt. Okay, no music then.
At no other point in his life could Sam recall having any telepathic ability but between his dream the other night about this very guy and his strangely horny radio, he was starting to wonder if he didn't have some latent mutant talent coming to life.
The overlook was empty, pretty much the way Sam had figured it would be. No one drove all the way out here, not in their overpriced testosterone mobiles, hell, no. They might actually get a little dirt on those off-road tires. His Camaro might not be made for mud-bogging but it didn't have any trouble with a dirt road and all those hours of scrubbing and polishing didn't seem quite so important.
He pulled up beneath the shade of the solitary tree, the wide branches damping the sweltering afternoon sun. Turned off the car and they sat there, listening to the slow tick of the engine as it cooled.
With conscious effort, Sam let go of the wheel, rubbing his damp palms against the legs of his jeans. Every ounce of good karma he'd had saved up seeming to be making a beeline towards him getting laid today. Shiny car, pretty blond in said car; even the airwaves had all but tossed someone in his lap. Sam just wasn't quite sure about this someone and when Bee moved, slowly unfolding himself from his seat to lean over the center console, Sam flinched so hard he was afraid he'd break bones. Inside the car had seemed comfortingly enclosed a couple days ago in his dreams but now it felt claustrophobic.
Sam was groping for the door handle before he even spoke, blurting out, "The view here is great."
Bee might not have been the chatting sort, but it was incredible how expressive his face was; his eyes that had been on Sam's lips flicked up and he smiled easily, anticipation melting away as he opened his own door.
It wasn't a lie, the view was brilliant. Acres of green sprawled out below them as they both leaned against the hood. Bee was proving to be the nice, patient kind of stalker, their fingertips barely brushing where they were resting. The silence was growing unbearable, for Sam at least, and finally he sighed, working up the nerve to say something.
"Look, I don't…I don't normally do this," Sam muttered. He rubbed a hand over his hair and tried to figure out what the hell he wanted to say. Before he could, slim fingertips brushed his cheek, sliding down to his chin and Sam blinked, let them tip his head up as Bee leaned in towards him.
A low blurt of static and Sam blinked, startled, when the radio crooned to life, lyrics drifting out the open window as Bob Dylan droned out, "Don't think twice, it's all right…"
"What…" the hell, Sam almost asked, words biting off on a soft gasp as Bee pressed their mouths together. Soft, soft lips against his own, almost unbearably gentle. Bee didn't press deeper, only let their mouths move together tentatively. Sam heard a faint little noise, couldn't even be embarrassed to realize he was the one who'd made it. All he knew is it felt so, so right to part his lips at the gentle pressure of Bee's tongue. It felt right, felt perfect, to open his mouth to that and meet it with his own. Explore Bee's mouth and he tasted sweet, like slushies and sunshine and all things summertime.
Made it all the easier to let Bee push him backwards, the warmth of the hood bleeding through his thin t-shirt as Sam sprawled on it. A faint whine made Sam blink, the first sound he'd heard the other boy make and maybe he wasn't completely mute, or maybe he really just didn’t like to talk. He never got a chance to ask, his own words tumbling thoughtlessly away as Bee pulled back enough to bite his lower lip, not quite gently. He soothed it with another kiss, sucking on the tiny wound until Sam gasped and arched. Before Sam had a chance to do more than blindly turn towards it, Bee had moved on to Sam's jaw, nibbling little bites down it as he worked his way to Sam's neck.
Fuck, that felt good. Sam groaning aloud as Bee licked down the line of his jugular, pressing hot kisses against where his pulse was hammering. He felt Bee sucking hard, seemingly determined to leave a mark that would be awkward and embarrassing to explain to his parents later but right now was just hot as all holy hell. Bee might not make any noise but Sam was certainly making up for it, with great enthusiasm and volume.
"Oh, that feels good," Sam choked out as Bee slid a leg between his own, pressing his thigh firmly against the hard bulge at Sam's crotch. 'Good' wasn't even the right word for it but Sam's vocabulary didn't have the experience for him to know what to say when someone was rubbing him through the thick material of his jeans. Just the friction alone was gorgeous. Bee was still mouthing his neck, pushing up Sam's t-shirt and dipping lower, biting him hard enough in the middle of the chest that Sam cursed, scowled down at the circle of reddened marks imprinted in his skin.
"Careful, that—" Sam cut off with a yelp, Bee transferring his mouth to one nipple and sucking. It didn't feel good, exactly, made something rise up on the pit of Sam's stomach that he wanted to writhe against.
Clumsily, Sam caught at Bee's shoulders, his hands hesitating there, gripping, as he tried to decide. Push away or pull in, do or don't, and then the decision wasn't his to make anymore. Bee reared up, green eyes blazing and his kiss was anything but gentle this time, mouth hard and wet and messy as he slid a hand down Sam's belly and lower. His fly gave way with a low pop, the zipper obscenely loud and Bee never hesitated, slid his hand into Sam's boxers and gripping his cock.
"Oh, god," Sam whimpered, barely heard the soft hiss of air, Bee shushing him softly before covering his mouth again with his own. His eyes were watering, the friction of Bee's bare palm on him almost painful but it still felt so good. Sweat was making things at least a little slippery, Sam choking off another moan as Bee pulled back abruptly, his hand moving in quick, hard jerks.
Slitting his eyes open, Sam saw Bee was watching him avidly; his own personal stalker watching him like he was recording every detail as Sam whimpered and writhed, squirming between Bee and the hood of his car. The metal beneath his hands was glossy-smooth, still warm from the drive and Sam dragged his hands down it, loving the silky feel of it against his palms.
The sound Bee made startled him into opening his eyes wide. Almost a growl, his eyes practically glowing in his flushed face, and Sam couldn't have anticipated him swooping down, the sudden slick wonder of Bee's mouth surrounding him dragging out a near scream.
"Fuck! Oh, god, oh, god, fuck, that's so good, yes, more," Sam sobbed out, a babbling stream of words escaping him as Bee sucked him, maybe a little clumsily but like Sam had room to complain?
There wasn't time for anything resembling a warning. Sam could only slide his hands into that silky blond hair and arch up, coming so hard his vision blurred, sweat stinging in his eyes as he shook. His hips jerked without his permission, trying to get him a little deeper into the slick, perfect heat surrounding him.
Bee choked a little, gasping, pulled back and met Sam's bleary look with wide eyes and wet pearl on his lips, a thin trickle down his chin.
"Sorry," Sam mumbled, "God, sorry." He leaned up on one elbow, every joint in his body felt too loose and wobbly yet. He almost thought he'd heard a warble of static from the radio, made a mental note to seriously get that fixed as he leaned in and kissed Bee's too-hot, swollen lips. Tasted bitter salt and this was nothing like every fantasy he'd ever had of getting a blow job because none of his fantasies had included blond stalkers. None of them had Bee, pretty and flushed, still sprawled between Sam's spread legs and kissing him eagerly.
Well, no shit, he was eager, not like blue balls was something to look forward to, and even in his uncertainty, Sam was determined that he wasn't going to be that guy. Took a deep breath before he slid a hand down Bee's chest and between his legs and found…not what he'd expected. He wasn't even hard, what the fuck.
Sam broke the kiss and met a surprisingly sheepish look, Bee giving him a little shrug and flopping back next to Sam, still breathing heavily, as if he'd…
Oh, duh, he'd probably jerked off while he was giving Sam his first, and thus best fucking ever, blowjob. Sam relaxed back, letting Bee pull him closer and nuzzle ticklish little kisses against his ear.
It was starting to get dark, the crimson streaking the sky darkening to purple. Time to go home. Sam was frankly surprised that his parents hadn't called already. If he didn't get going or at least call in about the next ten minutes, well, Sam didn't need any psychic powers to know his future would hold at the very least extra chores, possibly a grounding.
Only, Bee's mouth had shifted, both hands on Sam's face, holding him still for slow, sweet kisses, lips sore and still meeting each touch eagerly. Getting ready for round two, fuck, and this time, Sam wrapped his arms around the other boy and rolled, almost taking them off the edge of the hood and to the ground.
Bee pulled back, laughing soundlessly as he hooked his ankles around Sam's legs and arched up, the easy roll of his hips promising dark, lovely things.
Oh, he was in so much trouble. His stalker might not be creepy, but he might be something worse.
Sam pushed it out of his mind, pushed away everything, parents and groundings and uncertainty, and sucked gently on Bee's tongue. Maybe he hadn't started the morning gay but it was starting to look like he was going to end it that way.
-fin
Read Next Chapter
Author: Keelywolfe
Fandom: Transformers
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Sam/Bumblebee
Notes: I'm working on about three other stories, but this was just begging to be written. Unrepentant smut, here, I have no excuses.
Summary: Direct Sequel to 'Watching You.' Read that one first and this'll make more sense.
~~*~~
Sam had to admit to one unexpected bonus. The car cleaned up really well.
It had taken a decent amount of elbow grease and an almost obscene amount of his dad's expensive cleansers to do it. Add in a thorough google search on the proper way to make a car gleam and the Camaro was washed, exfoliated, decontaminated, polished, and then waxed to a smooth gloss.
Under the layers of dirt and dead bug parts lay a smooth, perfect shine. It was almost amazing; Sam hadn't found a single scratch to fill and he'd looked. What had looked like damage had only been like, a decade's worth of dirt and his hard work had rewarded with him with a rich yellow bisected with deep black stripes. The glossy shine was made for touching and Sam knew that because he was currently sprawled across it, his hands scrabbling frantically against that smooth finish. A desperate, fruitless search for something to hold on to while the blond guy pushed him a little higher, his mouth sweet and wet against Sam's.
He had no idea if the guy didn't want to talk or just couldn't but it was mattering less and less, Sam yielding against the hands pushing him back, pushing him down against the sun-warmed hood of his car. He barely noticed Bee twining their fingers together, raising both their hands over Sam's head and pinning them gently down. All he knew was that Bee was kissing him hungrily, like he'd be happy to do it for the rest of the night. Deeply, his tongue slick and clever against Sam's more uncertain one, coaxing it into doing things, obscene things that he'd never even considered. Especially since Sam was fairly sure he hadn't been gay this morning.
~~*~~
The day had started out pretty normal or as normal as Sam ever got. After spending epic amounts of time cleaning his car the day before, he'd woken up stiff and sore, but determined that today would be different. Today he would be normal or better than. Yes, today would begin the rest of his life, he was sure of it.
Only, it seemed like the rest of the universe hadn't gotten the memo. His mom, having no respect for the amount of work he'd put in the day before, had set him to spending the afternoon doing chores. As if that's what Saturdays were for and no amount of his mom pointing out that he could have gotten up before noon to do them was going to make that better. By the time he'd begged for his freedom, even promising to finish up on Sunday, Sam had gotten to the park late enough that most of the people there were already starting to pack up.
She was still there, though. As gorgeous and unattainable as she'd been before Sam had gotten the car, leaning against Trent like his arm was imbedded around her waist. Engaging his own stalker routine was as much a habit as brushing his teeth, only this time Sam had a car to lean against while he stared and made wishes that the universe had been ignoring since Sam had been old enough to make them.
There was no point in staying. Sam could admit that to himself. He should count himself lucky that Trent was still sitting on the ground because if Sam had been a little closer, he might have gotten a good beating to round out the day.
"Fuck this," Sam mumbled under his breath. Maybe he'd call Miles, see if he felt like playing a little Call of Duty. Somehow, the idea of blowing the heads off a few people seemed appealing.
He'd already turned back to his car, his brain moving into Xbox territory, when Sam saw him. Not even ten feet away, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Blond guy. The stalker of Sam's disturbingly wet dreams.
He was staring, just like before, with fathomless intensity and this time, Sam just stared back, like an invisible line was holding him there. What the hell did this guy want, anyway? Sam could stand here and guess or he could…ask.
Ask a question he suspected he knew the answer or maybe…maybe he hoped he knew. Clear green eyes held his own, blinking slowly, and Sam just stood there, considering.
Mikaela was still on the grass with Trent, the two of them packing up bottles and blankets, laughing together. Gorgeous Mikaela that Sam had been testing out his own stalking skills on for years.
And then came this. His own personal stalker, the blond guy standing in front of him with his hair blowing lightly around his face in the warm wind as he stared and, yeah, he was waiting. Sam could at least see this and he hesitated, almost took a step back. Only, back to where? Staring at what he couldn't have? He could keep trying for the unattainable or he could go for someone who was right there. Watching him, like he watched her.
Wavering, Sam rested one hand on the hood of his car, and then he closed his eyes, took a breath, and made a choice.
Blond guy didn't move an inch as Sam walked up to him. They were almost the same height, Sam maybe just a little taller. It was plenty warm outside but blond guy still had a jacket on. Not a varsity coat, or at least not one Sam recognized. One arm had a face embroidered on it that made Sam think of stone carvings, sharp, solemn lines. On the front left side, there was a word. A team, maybe a name?
"Hey," Sam said, awkwardly. His own stalking skills had never actually gotten to the greeting chapter.
Blond guy didn't seem to care. Sam had heard of someone's face lighting up with a smile but it seemed like it had been invented for this guy. One word and he was practically shining, his grin as brilliant as the sun. All because Sam had talked to him. Even knowing this guy had creepy stalker written all over him, it was damn hard not to be flattered when they freaking glowed for you. Almost involuntarily, Sam grinned back, his eyes flicking back to the guy's jacket and the word embroidered on it. Bee. Weird.
"Bee?" Sam asked. "Is that…your name?"
The other guy , Bee, it seemed, gave him another grin and nodded, jerking his chin a little as he tossed his blond hair out of his eyes.
Sam wet his lips and went for option B. Or Option Bee, as it were. "Did you want to take a drive?"
~~*~~
Bee hadn't spoken yet.
To be fair, he hadn't needed to. When Sam had offered him a ride, he hadn't even waited, darting over to the passenger door and barely pausing to give Sam an impatient look. And maybe Sam didn’t have all the social skills a guy needed but he did know how to take a hint, jogging over to his own side and in less than a minute he was driving away. Leaving his own choice of stalking material behind.
What he hadn't anticipated was how damned hard it would be to keep his eyes on the road. Bee sprawled into the passenger seat like it had been made for him, one leg drawn up and his knees spread wide as he kept to what he did best; staring at Sam. Only now his expression wasn't that blank, zombified look. Now there was a curve to his lips, almost a smirk, his green eyes practically glowing with smoldering heat. The jacket had been discarded and Bee's t-shirt was black and tight, molding to his body the same way the seat seemed to.
It was enough to make Sam shift a little in the driver's seat, his pants suddenly uncomfortably tight. Going from being an unnoticed nobody to the object of pure lust was a little disconcerting and Sam switched on the radio, hoping for a distraction. That was when he discovered that his radio was going to be particularly psychopathic today because every station seemed to be playing the wrong song. From sultry Motown to Nine Inch Nails, every single channel seemed to be crooning sex to him. He gave up when 'Sexyback' yowled out from his last attempt. Okay, no music then.
At no other point in his life could Sam recall having any telepathic ability but between his dream the other night about this very guy and his strangely horny radio, he was starting to wonder if he didn't have some latent mutant talent coming to life.
The overlook was empty, pretty much the way Sam had figured it would be. No one drove all the way out here, not in their overpriced testosterone mobiles, hell, no. They might actually get a little dirt on those off-road tires. His Camaro might not be made for mud-bogging but it didn't have any trouble with a dirt road and all those hours of scrubbing and polishing didn't seem quite so important.
He pulled up beneath the shade of the solitary tree, the wide branches damping the sweltering afternoon sun. Turned off the car and they sat there, listening to the slow tick of the engine as it cooled.
With conscious effort, Sam let go of the wheel, rubbing his damp palms against the legs of his jeans. Every ounce of good karma he'd had saved up seeming to be making a beeline towards him getting laid today. Shiny car, pretty blond in said car; even the airwaves had all but tossed someone in his lap. Sam just wasn't quite sure about this someone and when Bee moved, slowly unfolding himself from his seat to lean over the center console, Sam flinched so hard he was afraid he'd break bones. Inside the car had seemed comfortingly enclosed a couple days ago in his dreams but now it felt claustrophobic.
Sam was groping for the door handle before he even spoke, blurting out, "The view here is great."
Bee might not have been the chatting sort, but it was incredible how expressive his face was; his eyes that had been on Sam's lips flicked up and he smiled easily, anticipation melting away as he opened his own door.
It wasn't a lie, the view was brilliant. Acres of green sprawled out below them as they both leaned against the hood. Bee was proving to be the nice, patient kind of stalker, their fingertips barely brushing where they were resting. The silence was growing unbearable, for Sam at least, and finally he sighed, working up the nerve to say something.
"Look, I don't…I don't normally do this," Sam muttered. He rubbed a hand over his hair and tried to figure out what the hell he wanted to say. Before he could, slim fingertips brushed his cheek, sliding down to his chin and Sam blinked, let them tip his head up as Bee leaned in towards him.
A low blurt of static and Sam blinked, startled, when the radio crooned to life, lyrics drifting out the open window as Bob Dylan droned out, "Don't think twice, it's all right…"
"What…" the hell, Sam almost asked, words biting off on a soft gasp as Bee pressed their mouths together. Soft, soft lips against his own, almost unbearably gentle. Bee didn't press deeper, only let their mouths move together tentatively. Sam heard a faint little noise, couldn't even be embarrassed to realize he was the one who'd made it. All he knew is it felt so, so right to part his lips at the gentle pressure of Bee's tongue. It felt right, felt perfect, to open his mouth to that and meet it with his own. Explore Bee's mouth and he tasted sweet, like slushies and sunshine and all things summertime.
Made it all the easier to let Bee push him backwards, the warmth of the hood bleeding through his thin t-shirt as Sam sprawled on it. A faint whine made Sam blink, the first sound he'd heard the other boy make and maybe he wasn't completely mute, or maybe he really just didn’t like to talk. He never got a chance to ask, his own words tumbling thoughtlessly away as Bee pulled back enough to bite his lower lip, not quite gently. He soothed it with another kiss, sucking on the tiny wound until Sam gasped and arched. Before Sam had a chance to do more than blindly turn towards it, Bee had moved on to Sam's jaw, nibbling little bites down it as he worked his way to Sam's neck.
Fuck, that felt good. Sam groaning aloud as Bee licked down the line of his jugular, pressing hot kisses against where his pulse was hammering. He felt Bee sucking hard, seemingly determined to leave a mark that would be awkward and embarrassing to explain to his parents later but right now was just hot as all holy hell. Bee might not make any noise but Sam was certainly making up for it, with great enthusiasm and volume.
"Oh, that feels good," Sam choked out as Bee slid a leg between his own, pressing his thigh firmly against the hard bulge at Sam's crotch. 'Good' wasn't even the right word for it but Sam's vocabulary didn't have the experience for him to know what to say when someone was rubbing him through the thick material of his jeans. Just the friction alone was gorgeous. Bee was still mouthing his neck, pushing up Sam's t-shirt and dipping lower, biting him hard enough in the middle of the chest that Sam cursed, scowled down at the circle of reddened marks imprinted in his skin.
"Careful, that—" Sam cut off with a yelp, Bee transferring his mouth to one nipple and sucking. It didn't feel good, exactly, made something rise up on the pit of Sam's stomach that he wanted to writhe against.
Clumsily, Sam caught at Bee's shoulders, his hands hesitating there, gripping, as he tried to decide. Push away or pull in, do or don't, and then the decision wasn't his to make anymore. Bee reared up, green eyes blazing and his kiss was anything but gentle this time, mouth hard and wet and messy as he slid a hand down Sam's belly and lower. His fly gave way with a low pop, the zipper obscenely loud and Bee never hesitated, slid his hand into Sam's boxers and gripping his cock.
"Oh, god," Sam whimpered, barely heard the soft hiss of air, Bee shushing him softly before covering his mouth again with his own. His eyes were watering, the friction of Bee's bare palm on him almost painful but it still felt so good. Sweat was making things at least a little slippery, Sam choking off another moan as Bee pulled back abruptly, his hand moving in quick, hard jerks.
Slitting his eyes open, Sam saw Bee was watching him avidly; his own personal stalker watching him like he was recording every detail as Sam whimpered and writhed, squirming between Bee and the hood of his car. The metal beneath his hands was glossy-smooth, still warm from the drive and Sam dragged his hands down it, loving the silky feel of it against his palms.
The sound Bee made startled him into opening his eyes wide. Almost a growl, his eyes practically glowing in his flushed face, and Sam couldn't have anticipated him swooping down, the sudden slick wonder of Bee's mouth surrounding him dragging out a near scream.
"Fuck! Oh, god, oh, god, fuck, that's so good, yes, more," Sam sobbed out, a babbling stream of words escaping him as Bee sucked him, maybe a little clumsily but like Sam had room to complain?
There wasn't time for anything resembling a warning. Sam could only slide his hands into that silky blond hair and arch up, coming so hard his vision blurred, sweat stinging in his eyes as he shook. His hips jerked without his permission, trying to get him a little deeper into the slick, perfect heat surrounding him.
Bee choked a little, gasping, pulled back and met Sam's bleary look with wide eyes and wet pearl on his lips, a thin trickle down his chin.
"Sorry," Sam mumbled, "God, sorry." He leaned up on one elbow, every joint in his body felt too loose and wobbly yet. He almost thought he'd heard a warble of static from the radio, made a mental note to seriously get that fixed as he leaned in and kissed Bee's too-hot, swollen lips. Tasted bitter salt and this was nothing like every fantasy he'd ever had of getting a blow job because none of his fantasies had included blond stalkers. None of them had Bee, pretty and flushed, still sprawled between Sam's spread legs and kissing him eagerly.
Well, no shit, he was eager, not like blue balls was something to look forward to, and even in his uncertainty, Sam was determined that he wasn't going to be that guy. Took a deep breath before he slid a hand down Bee's chest and between his legs and found…not what he'd expected. He wasn't even hard, what the fuck.
Sam broke the kiss and met a surprisingly sheepish look, Bee giving him a little shrug and flopping back next to Sam, still breathing heavily, as if he'd…
Oh, duh, he'd probably jerked off while he was giving Sam his first, and thus best fucking ever, blowjob. Sam relaxed back, letting Bee pull him closer and nuzzle ticklish little kisses against his ear.
It was starting to get dark, the crimson streaking the sky darkening to purple. Time to go home. Sam was frankly surprised that his parents hadn't called already. If he didn't get going or at least call in about the next ten minutes, well, Sam didn't need any psychic powers to know his future would hold at the very least extra chores, possibly a grounding.
Only, Bee's mouth had shifted, both hands on Sam's face, holding him still for slow, sweet kisses, lips sore and still meeting each touch eagerly. Getting ready for round two, fuck, and this time, Sam wrapped his arms around the other boy and rolled, almost taking them off the edge of the hood and to the ground.
Bee pulled back, laughing soundlessly as he hooked his ankles around Sam's legs and arched up, the easy roll of his hips promising dark, lovely things.
Oh, he was in so much trouble. His stalker might not be creepy, but he might be something worse.
Sam pushed it out of his mind, pushed away everything, parents and groundings and uncertainty, and sucked gently on Bee's tongue. Maybe he hadn't started the morning gay but it was starting to look like he was going to end it that way.
-fin
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no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 01:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 02:06 am (UTC)would make out in it all the time. *G*"
SEE?! AND YOU DID!
*awesome puddle of melted, happy goo*
no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 02:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 06:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 03:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 06:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-03 06:33 am (UTC)“…like he was recording every detail…” This part made me laugh!
I wonder how Sam would react when Bee reveals himself…must be a shocker!
There are some great authors in this fandom; you guys make me want to write my own stuff :)
no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 06:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 12:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 01:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 09:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 07:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 10:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-09 09:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 02:50 pm (UTC)Damn, be is the sexiest silent stalker around.
My favorite line is the one about dark, lovely things to come. *thuds*
no subject
Date: 2011-06-06 07:57 am (UTC)Woo!
::all roofly::
no subject
Date: 2011-06-10 07:40 am (UTC)