Fanfic: DW/SPN Xover - The First Thanksgiving: Wednesday, 2 of 3 (Jack/Sam)
Title: The First Thanksgiving: Wednesday, 2 of 3
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Doctor Who/Supernatural Crossover
Characters: Captain Jack Harkness/Sam Winchester
Prompt: Jack/Sam requests over at The 'Captain Jack Sexes Everyone In Every Fandom Ever' Challenge created by sarkastic
Word Count: ~2,900 words.
Rating: NC-17 for language and graphic sex.
Warnings/Spoilers: "Unconventional" (but not actually "kinky") sex. Potential for vague spoilers for the SPN "Pilot" and the last half of S1 for Doctor Who.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously, nothing.
Summary: Quietly mysterious college freshman meet dashing young Air Force captain … or something. The saga continues.
Author's Notes: This is the second part of the Wednesday story set (now complete). So, while, yes, there are more stories coming for the days that follow, I think you can read the Wednesday story set and still be pretty satisfied. It doesn't leave you hanging or anything.
Wednesday (Day 1): 1 of 3 - 2 of 3 - 3 of 3
The cab ride hadn't been entirely awkward. A smile here, a nod there, a glance at the passing scenery, a shift of hands to pockets, and over it all the tinny sound of static-heavy World Music Radio.
Jack was usually kind of a chatterbox, but those ten minutes without speech didn't seem all that odd. He wondered if his quiet friend was already rubbing off on him.
At the hotel, they wasted no time boarding an elevator, just the two of them, to the top floor.
G … 2 …. 3
They were both leaning, backs to the rear wall of the elevator, watching the slowly (way too slowly) rising numbers on the display. The space between them was charged with anticipation and Jack was itching to make contact.
4 … 5
Jack turned, sidling in next to Sam, and looked up at him with an expectant blink and a roguish grin. "So … chocolate and TV, right?" This was Jack being subtle. Really.
6 … 7
"Yeah … umm … chocolate," the in and out of Sam's breath picked up speed. He exhaled slowly and licked his lips, "… and … whatever."
8 … 9
"And whatever." Jack was rather fond of 'whatever' and Sam just looked too sweet not to taste. For half a second, Jack wondered if he wasn't being overly brash about what might be the boy's first time, but really, as first times go, Sam could do a lot worse than Jack. And novice partner or no, Jack prided himself on being a very experienced, very considerate, very creative lover and he had no problem pulling out all the stops to ensure that they both saw stars tonight.
*ding* … 10
"Chocolate and whatever sounds good to me, Sam." The heat in Sam's eyes made Jack's pulse race and he was glad for the distraction of sliding elevator doors. He pushed off the wall and walked out into the hallway, feeling Sam fall into step behind him. He couldn't help grinning.
Sam was totally checking him out.
* * *
Despite not calling for a limo, Jack was not under any delusion that his accommodations wouldn't raise some suspicions. Sure, he was a man of simple needs, but he was also a live-for-the-now kind of guy. Luxury was his preference whenever he had the funds and it wasn't too conspicuous.
Jack never knew when life would throw him for a loop, leaving him broke and broken again. So, he never passed on comfort, if it was an option.
It wasn't the presidential suite or anything, but it was one of the best rooms at the Four Seasons, which was saying an awful lot, considering the hotel's ratings overall. Whenever he walked in, the rich beauty of it just seemed to wash over him and for a moment he could forget about past struggles and just savor his current good fortune.
Sam sucked in air, sharp but muted, as he walked in after Jack. Apparently, Jack wasn't the only one who felt overwhelmed by the extravagance of the room.
With most others, Jack would point out just how out of their element they were, with comments about Kandinsky on the wall and Steuben on the table. People loved to romp with an affluent playboy and that persona suited Jack just fine.
After the diner check discussion, though, Jack figured that Sam probably wouldn't find it all that sexy for Jack to highlight his momentary state of awe. So, he just strode all the way into the room, leaving Sam to close the door behind him, and shucked his jacket, pitching it over the back of the desk chair.
He walked over to the northeast corner, where the two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows met, and gave the room a once over, in the least obvious way he knew how. He wasn't expecting any company, extraterrestrial or otherwise, any time soon, but he always felt better when he at least tried to secure a space. When he looked back toward the entryway, Sam was regarding him thoughtfully.
"You don't have to pretend you're not looking for enemy combatants. I promise not to freak out if you want to peek in the closets or under the bed before you get comfortable. Can't help your military training, right?"
Sam's eyes were surprisingly wise just then and Jack wondered if the boy had seen any action, though he seemed awfully young for that. Not that Jack was one to talk, really. He'd certainly had his first few field assignments by the time he was Sam's age. A past military experience would go a long way to explaining Sam's grief and the focus on his new life without reference to the old one.
But still, it wasn't something Jack would have guessed about Sam and that made his eyebrows draw together in concern. Jack didn't have a problem handling the unexpected, but he was a people person and it unnerved him to have such an inaccurate, or at least very foggy, picture of the man he'd invited up to his hotel room.
"Don't worry, I'm not a psycho." Sam's smile was sincere and jovial.
"You were in the service?" Jack thought his theory could be a piece that fit, but he wasn't entirely sure.
Sam let out a bark of laughter. "No. Dude, I'm only 18 and a half. That would have been a very short stint in the service." Guess again!
Funny, most people would feel compelled to explain how they recognized Jack's perimeter check. Sam, however, offered no more information than what Jack directly asked for. He somehow managed to be both very honest and very guarded at the same time. Jack didn't know quite what that meant, but Sam didn't feel like a threat or a loose canon, even. But of course Jack, being Jack, was curious.
"What did I leave out of my perimeter check?" Seduction could wait. Or maybe this was part of the seduction. Jack didn't really know yet.
"I dunno," Sam stated, face blank, without giving it a moment's thought.
Lie. Plain old, outright lie. But whatever Sam was holding back, it didn't seem likely to be detrimental to Jack and, if so, it really wasn't any of his business. What Jack did know was that there was a damn sexy, quietly mysterious man in his hotel room, a man with a body powerful enough to fuck him senseless for the next four days. What else did he really need to know? Requests for too much information had the nasty habit of ruining possibilities for perfectly good sex.
Besides, danger was definitely one of Jack's many kinks, so it wasn't like Sam's enigmatic nature wasn't a huge turn-on. It so was.
Jack's smile seemed to have a laugh built-in, though it didn't come out. "You know what, Sam? I don't care how you know." Jack walked up to stand nearly toe to toe with Sam, looking up into his eyes. "And I don't care about your past." He reached up to brush Sam's bangs back. "All I care about is now." Jack leaned up for a kiss.
The kiss was tender at first with Jack leading slow and Sam following cautiously, like he was studying the kiss, like it had been a while and he was relearning the steps. But then Sam's broad hands slipped over Jack's hips, pulling their bodies flush, as he sucked on Jack's bottom lip, sweeping over it with his tongue. And Jack just melted.
If he had breath, Jack might have laughed, giddy about his total inability to peg Sam. How in the nine planets had he ever imagined that Sam was a bottom? This boy was toppy! And alpha to boot!
When Jack pulled his head back a bit to look into the green of Sam's eyes, Sam's grip tightened, his arms sliding more around Jack's sides. Jack swore he was about to say something, but totally lost his train of thought, when one of Sam's massive hands settled over his ass. He knew he wasn't tiny, so the knowledge that Sam could practically palm him with one paw, definitely made it more difficult to breathe all of a sudden.
When he got used to the lingering weight of Sam's hand there, Jack found his voice again. Sort of.
"You done this before?"
"Yeah." Sam was staring at his lips like they were candy-coated.
"Been a while?" Jack thought Sam just might eat him up and lick the bowl clean.
"Maybe." Sam's smile quirked, lopsided and secretive.
"You … top?" Jack asked, a little breathy.
Sam inclined his head a little to the side with a wag of his eyebrow. "That a problem?"
"No, it's just … when I met you … didn't know."
"I'm … flexible."
Did the temperature in the room just jump up 10 degrees? Jack himself was 'flexible' and boy did he love 'flexible' men. Especially when they were as edible as Sam.
Jack ground his hips into Sam's, both their cocks straining against the fabric of their pants. Sam's eyelids slid shut with an "mmm".
"Aren't you hot in these clothes, Sam?" Jack said, tugging on the collar of Sam's jean jacket. "I mean … I prefer to workout in the buff … and you seem like just the man to work me out tonight."
Sam was stepping back then, shrugging out of his jacket, pulling both layers of shirts up and over his head, and, in a flash, stepping back up to Jack with a smile.
"You still seem to be overdressed," Sam said, smug.
Jack couldn't pick just one place to look. Sam's mouth, arms, shoulders, chest, and abs all competed for air time in his brain. But when he caught Sam's eyes, there was a glint there, a hint of strength hidden away. And damn if that didn't go straight to his dick.
Jack gave a little knowing smirk and walked over to the bed, backside on display. He began unbuttoning his shirt, put his hands behind his back, and tugged at the cuffs until it slid to the floor behind him. He toed off his shoes and undid his belt, the button, the zip, and he bent, brazen, to slowly slide every stitch of cloth below his waist down to the carpet at his feet.
Jack didn't believe in doing things half way.
He looked over his shoulder at Sam. "You comin' or not, College Boy?" Then, he looked back at the bed, grinning and rolling his shoulders, intent to dive in.
He wasn't prepared for the instant crush of Sam, chest pressing into his back, hands snaking around to press flat on his abdomen, rough jeans scraping over the rise of his ass. Sam knocked the wind right out of him.
Jack felt the rush of Sam's breath over his ear, his neck, and heard Sam whisper something about "coming" and "Jack," but really Sam could be counting to ten for all Jack knew. His concentration was totally shot.
"Jack?" Sam sing-songed, brushing his thumb over a nipple. "You still in there?" Sam shifted, his jeans grating on Jack's skin. "Or am I distracting you?"
Jack wasn't one to let anybody outplay him in the bedroom. Sam had another thing coming if he thought his untrained dominant nature could override Jack's lifetime of cultivated sexual skills.
"Actually," Jack said, squirming out of the embrace to climb onto the bed. He posed shamelessly, stretching out on his side like some wanton adonis, "a bit more distraction might be good."
Sam seemed frozen, lips parted, full of desire. It was pretty clear his brain had short-circuited.
Jack took his own cock in hand, biting his bottom lip on the upstroke, but keeping eye contact with his mesmerized college boy. "You like to watch. Don't you, Sam?"
Sam's eyes were torn, bright with need, flickering back and forth between the pleasure on Jack's face and the slide of Jack's hand.
Jack loved being watched. He didn't believe in faking anything, but he never needed to. He was a slut for the gaze of a playmate. If he had a lover who wanted to watch, he could touch and jerk and fuck himself unconscious, with and without accoutrements. And the intensely lustful way that Sam was watching Jack made it feel like he was being devoured from a yard away.
He couldn't help the moan that spilled out of him, his head rocking back as he felt Sam's eyes burning into him.
When he opened his eyes again, strokes becoming languid, the fire of Sam's need felt like a physical force, dancing electricity across his skin, and the palm of Sam's hand was pressed tight into the crotch of his jeans.
Jack had finally pegged something down about Sam. Sam liked to watch. A lot.
"This your kinda show, Sam?" Jack licked his lips, slowly, his breath hitching as his curled fingers ran over the head of his cock.
Damn, did he want this college boy. Wanted Sam to watch him. Wanted Sam's hands and mouth allover him. Wanted Sam in him and on him.
"Why don't you … scrap the pants … and join the fun?"
Sam's hands were hasty and mindless, as he slipped the notch on his belt, tore through the buttons of his jeans, and shoved everything down and out of his way. Then he sank to the bed and crawled over to Jack.
Sam kneeled up and reached out for Jack's fisted cock.
"You wanna play, Sam?" Jack's words halted Sam's movement and drew his eyes up to Jack's face again.
"You know I do, Jack. Wouldn't be here if I didn't." Sam's voice was lower and softer now, a bit of the bashful boy who dropped his books, a bit of the calculating man who guarded his secrets.
"Come here then."
Sam slid down from his knees, until he was leaning on the bed in a near mirror of Jack's pose.
And then Jack was kissing him, their legs twining together, hands roaming. There cocks, trapped between them, rubbing together, creating just that sweet-tinged friction Jack loved.
Jack's fingers traced the smooth outlines of the bones and muscles of Sam's back and arm, loving the flex of Sam's chest against his own. His ass was cradled in the palm of Sam's hand and his lips were thick from Sam sucking them.
The kiss was deep, their tongues caressing each other, their bodies abuzz with the heat and glide of skin on skin. Jack wound his hand down between them, gripping and sliding their cocks in unison.
Both pairs of hips snapped to accommodate the modified rhythm. And they were moaning into each others' mouths and bucking up, pre-cum slick on their cocks and Jack's hand.
Then Jack let go, lips leaving Sam's as he pushed Sam onto his back, one thigh between his own. And they fucked cock to cock, dicks aligned, pressing against smooth and solid columns of heat. Jack was rolling his hips, outstretched arms holding him at that exquisite angle where both bodies are grinding over all the most sensitive parts.
And Sam's back buckled, his eyes squeezing shut. He whimpered and moaned as the pressure built in his body. And Jack was right there with him, lungs pumping breaths faster, low noises tumbling out from the back of his throat. He pressed deeper, the rub of their dicks sending tremors down and up and out and he could feel his muscles tensing.
Then Sam was shuddering beneath him, lifting them both, and gushing over their dicks and his abs with a three-syllabled "fuck." Jack was following fast and hard, riding out a spasm that rocked his body as he came hot and groaning, their cream mixing warm on Sam's stomach.
And ... breathe.
Jack toppled over to lay next to Sam, spent and slightly euphoric. "Mmmm. Nice."
"Very nice."
"Mmmm. Yeah."
"Kinda different."
Jack snickered, turning to look at Sam who was somehow puzzling about something already this close after some pretty amazing sex. "Thought you said you'd done this before?"
Sam continued thinking too hard in the general direction of the ceiling. "Oh … I have … I mean … not like that, but … you know … with a guy … but we … you know … did it."
Jack scoffed with mock offense. "Are you saying we didn't just have sex? Because I seem to recall sex happening."
"Oh! No! That's not what I was saying." Sam's age was showing again as he turned to face Jack whose eyebrow was quirked in challenging disbelief. "Well, maybe that is what I was saying, but it's just … I dunno … sex seems to usually be about … things … going in places."
Jack's whole face lit up as he laughed. Sam's total inability to wrap his brain around a new sexual concept was ridiculously amusing, but Jack got himself under control fast enough to reach out and pull the shamed Sam to him, before he could scamper away to hide.
"Hey. It's okay. You just have to ... think outside the box a little." His hand came up to cup Sam's face, thumb brushing over Sam's lips. "There are so many very pleasurable things to learn and do in the world."
"Yeah?" Sam's smile returned as he wagged his eyebrow suggestively. "Are you gonna teach me, Jack?"
Jack knew his smile was devilish and sexy as hell. "Well … we do have all weekend."
Wednesday (Day 1): 1 of 3 - 2 of 3 - 3 of 3
Author: eboniorchid
Fandom: Doctor Who/Supernatural Crossover
Characters: Captain Jack Harkness/Sam Winchester
Prompt: Jack/Sam requests over at The 'Captain Jack Sexes Everyone In Every Fandom Ever' Challenge created by sarkastic
Word Count: ~2,900 words.
Rating: NC-17 for language and graphic sex.
Warnings/Spoilers: "Unconventional" (but not actually "kinky") sex. Potential for vague spoilers for the SPN "Pilot" and the last half of S1 for Doctor Who.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously, nothing.
Summary: Quietly mysterious college freshman meet dashing young Air Force captain … or something. The saga continues.
Author's Notes: This is the second part of the Wednesday story set (now complete). So, while, yes, there are more stories coming for the days that follow, I think you can read the Wednesday story set and still be pretty satisfied. It doesn't leave you hanging or anything.
Wednesday (Day 1): 1 of 3 - 2 of 3 - 3 of 3
The cab ride hadn't been entirely awkward. A smile here, a nod there, a glance at the passing scenery, a shift of hands to pockets, and over it all the tinny sound of static-heavy World Music Radio.
Jack was usually kind of a chatterbox, but those ten minutes without speech didn't seem all that odd. He wondered if his quiet friend was already rubbing off on him.
At the hotel, they wasted no time boarding an elevator, just the two of them, to the top floor.
G … 2 …. 3
They were both leaning, backs to the rear wall of the elevator, watching the slowly (way too slowly) rising numbers on the display. The space between them was charged with anticipation and Jack was itching to make contact.
4 … 5
Jack turned, sidling in next to Sam, and looked up at him with an expectant blink and a roguish grin. "So … chocolate and TV, right?" This was Jack being subtle. Really.
6 … 7
"Yeah … umm … chocolate," the in and out of Sam's breath picked up speed. He exhaled slowly and licked his lips, "… and … whatever."
8 … 9
"And whatever." Jack was rather fond of 'whatever' and Sam just looked too sweet not to taste. For half a second, Jack wondered if he wasn't being overly brash about what might be the boy's first time, but really, as first times go, Sam could do a lot worse than Jack. And novice partner or no, Jack prided himself on being a very experienced, very considerate, very creative lover and he had no problem pulling out all the stops to ensure that they both saw stars tonight.
*ding* … 10
"Chocolate and whatever sounds good to me, Sam." The heat in Sam's eyes made Jack's pulse race and he was glad for the distraction of sliding elevator doors. He pushed off the wall and walked out into the hallway, feeling Sam fall into step behind him. He couldn't help grinning.
Sam was totally checking him out.
* * *
Despite not calling for a limo, Jack was not under any delusion that his accommodations wouldn't raise some suspicions. Sure, he was a man of simple needs, but he was also a live-for-the-now kind of guy. Luxury was his preference whenever he had the funds and it wasn't too conspicuous.
Jack never knew when life would throw him for a loop, leaving him broke and broken again. So, he never passed on comfort, if it was an option.
It wasn't the presidential suite or anything, but it was one of the best rooms at the Four Seasons, which was saying an awful lot, considering the hotel's ratings overall. Whenever he walked in, the rich beauty of it just seemed to wash over him and for a moment he could forget about past struggles and just savor his current good fortune.
Sam sucked in air, sharp but muted, as he walked in after Jack. Apparently, Jack wasn't the only one who felt overwhelmed by the extravagance of the room.
With most others, Jack would point out just how out of their element they were, with comments about Kandinsky on the wall and Steuben on the table. People loved to romp with an affluent playboy and that persona suited Jack just fine.
After the diner check discussion, though, Jack figured that Sam probably wouldn't find it all that sexy for Jack to highlight his momentary state of awe. So, he just strode all the way into the room, leaving Sam to close the door behind him, and shucked his jacket, pitching it over the back of the desk chair.
He walked over to the northeast corner, where the two walls of floor-to-ceiling windows met, and gave the room a once over, in the least obvious way he knew how. He wasn't expecting any company, extraterrestrial or otherwise, any time soon, but he always felt better when he at least tried to secure a space. When he looked back toward the entryway, Sam was regarding him thoughtfully.
"You don't have to pretend you're not looking for enemy combatants. I promise not to freak out if you want to peek in the closets or under the bed before you get comfortable. Can't help your military training, right?"
Sam's eyes were surprisingly wise just then and Jack wondered if the boy had seen any action, though he seemed awfully young for that. Not that Jack was one to talk, really. He'd certainly had his first few field assignments by the time he was Sam's age. A past military experience would go a long way to explaining Sam's grief and the focus on his new life without reference to the old one.
But still, it wasn't something Jack would have guessed about Sam and that made his eyebrows draw together in concern. Jack didn't have a problem handling the unexpected, but he was a people person and it unnerved him to have such an inaccurate, or at least very foggy, picture of the man he'd invited up to his hotel room.
"Don't worry, I'm not a psycho." Sam's smile was sincere and jovial.
"You were in the service?" Jack thought his theory could be a piece that fit, but he wasn't entirely sure.
Sam let out a bark of laughter. "No. Dude, I'm only 18 and a half. That would have been a very short stint in the service." Guess again!
Funny, most people would feel compelled to explain how they recognized Jack's perimeter check. Sam, however, offered no more information than what Jack directly asked for. He somehow managed to be both very honest and very guarded at the same time. Jack didn't know quite what that meant, but Sam didn't feel like a threat or a loose canon, even. But of course Jack, being Jack, was curious.
"What did I leave out of my perimeter check?" Seduction could wait. Or maybe this was part of the seduction. Jack didn't really know yet.
"I dunno," Sam stated, face blank, without giving it a moment's thought.
Lie. Plain old, outright lie. But whatever Sam was holding back, it didn't seem likely to be detrimental to Jack and, if so, it really wasn't any of his business. What Jack did know was that there was a damn sexy, quietly mysterious man in his hotel room, a man with a body powerful enough to fuck him senseless for the next four days. What else did he really need to know? Requests for too much information had the nasty habit of ruining possibilities for perfectly good sex.
Besides, danger was definitely one of Jack's many kinks, so it wasn't like Sam's enigmatic nature wasn't a huge turn-on. It so was.
Jack's smile seemed to have a laugh built-in, though it didn't come out. "You know what, Sam? I don't care how you know." Jack walked up to stand nearly toe to toe with Sam, looking up into his eyes. "And I don't care about your past." He reached up to brush Sam's bangs back. "All I care about is now." Jack leaned up for a kiss.
The kiss was tender at first with Jack leading slow and Sam following cautiously, like he was studying the kiss, like it had been a while and he was relearning the steps. But then Sam's broad hands slipped over Jack's hips, pulling their bodies flush, as he sucked on Jack's bottom lip, sweeping over it with his tongue. And Jack just melted.
If he had breath, Jack might have laughed, giddy about his total inability to peg Sam. How in the nine planets had he ever imagined that Sam was a bottom? This boy was toppy! And alpha to boot!
When Jack pulled his head back a bit to look into the green of Sam's eyes, Sam's grip tightened, his arms sliding more around Jack's sides. Jack swore he was about to say something, but totally lost his train of thought, when one of Sam's massive hands settled over his ass. He knew he wasn't tiny, so the knowledge that Sam could practically palm him with one paw, definitely made it more difficult to breathe all of a sudden.
When he got used to the lingering weight of Sam's hand there, Jack found his voice again. Sort of.
"You done this before?"
"Yeah." Sam was staring at his lips like they were candy-coated.
"Been a while?" Jack thought Sam just might eat him up and lick the bowl clean.
"Maybe." Sam's smile quirked, lopsided and secretive.
"You … top?" Jack asked, a little breathy.
Sam inclined his head a little to the side with a wag of his eyebrow. "That a problem?"
"No, it's just … when I met you … didn't know."
"I'm … flexible."
Did the temperature in the room just jump up 10 degrees? Jack himself was 'flexible' and boy did he love 'flexible' men. Especially when they were as edible as Sam.
Jack ground his hips into Sam's, both their cocks straining against the fabric of their pants. Sam's eyelids slid shut with an "mmm".
"Aren't you hot in these clothes, Sam?" Jack said, tugging on the collar of Sam's jean jacket. "I mean … I prefer to workout in the buff … and you seem like just the man to work me out tonight."
Sam was stepping back then, shrugging out of his jacket, pulling both layers of shirts up and over his head, and, in a flash, stepping back up to Jack with a smile.
"You still seem to be overdressed," Sam said, smug.
Jack couldn't pick just one place to look. Sam's mouth, arms, shoulders, chest, and abs all competed for air time in his brain. But when he caught Sam's eyes, there was a glint there, a hint of strength hidden away. And damn if that didn't go straight to his dick.
Jack gave a little knowing smirk and walked over to the bed, backside on display. He began unbuttoning his shirt, put his hands behind his back, and tugged at the cuffs until it slid to the floor behind him. He toed off his shoes and undid his belt, the button, the zip, and he bent, brazen, to slowly slide every stitch of cloth below his waist down to the carpet at his feet.
Jack didn't believe in doing things half way.
He looked over his shoulder at Sam. "You comin' or not, College Boy?" Then, he looked back at the bed, grinning and rolling his shoulders, intent to dive in.
He wasn't prepared for the instant crush of Sam, chest pressing into his back, hands snaking around to press flat on his abdomen, rough jeans scraping over the rise of his ass. Sam knocked the wind right out of him.
Jack felt the rush of Sam's breath over his ear, his neck, and heard Sam whisper something about "coming" and "Jack," but really Sam could be counting to ten for all Jack knew. His concentration was totally shot.
"Jack?" Sam sing-songed, brushing his thumb over a nipple. "You still in there?" Sam shifted, his jeans grating on Jack's skin. "Or am I distracting you?"
Jack wasn't one to let anybody outplay him in the bedroom. Sam had another thing coming if he thought his untrained dominant nature could override Jack's lifetime of cultivated sexual skills.
"Actually," Jack said, squirming out of the embrace to climb onto the bed. He posed shamelessly, stretching out on his side like some wanton adonis, "a bit more distraction might be good."
Sam seemed frozen, lips parted, full of desire. It was pretty clear his brain had short-circuited.
Jack took his own cock in hand, biting his bottom lip on the upstroke, but keeping eye contact with his mesmerized college boy. "You like to watch. Don't you, Sam?"
Sam's eyes were torn, bright with need, flickering back and forth between the pleasure on Jack's face and the slide of Jack's hand.
Jack loved being watched. He didn't believe in faking anything, but he never needed to. He was a slut for the gaze of a playmate. If he had a lover who wanted to watch, he could touch and jerk and fuck himself unconscious, with and without accoutrements. And the intensely lustful way that Sam was watching Jack made it feel like he was being devoured from a yard away.
He couldn't help the moan that spilled out of him, his head rocking back as he felt Sam's eyes burning into him.
When he opened his eyes again, strokes becoming languid, the fire of Sam's need felt like a physical force, dancing electricity across his skin, and the palm of Sam's hand was pressed tight into the crotch of his jeans.
Jack had finally pegged something down about Sam. Sam liked to watch. A lot.
"This your kinda show, Sam?" Jack licked his lips, slowly, his breath hitching as his curled fingers ran over the head of his cock.
Damn, did he want this college boy. Wanted Sam to watch him. Wanted Sam's hands and mouth allover him. Wanted Sam in him and on him.
"Why don't you … scrap the pants … and join the fun?"
Sam's hands were hasty and mindless, as he slipped the notch on his belt, tore through the buttons of his jeans, and shoved everything down and out of his way. Then he sank to the bed and crawled over to Jack.
Sam kneeled up and reached out for Jack's fisted cock.
"You wanna play, Sam?" Jack's words halted Sam's movement and drew his eyes up to Jack's face again.
"You know I do, Jack. Wouldn't be here if I didn't." Sam's voice was lower and softer now, a bit of the bashful boy who dropped his books, a bit of the calculating man who guarded his secrets.
"Come here then."
Sam slid down from his knees, until he was leaning on the bed in a near mirror of Jack's pose.
And then Jack was kissing him, their legs twining together, hands roaming. There cocks, trapped between them, rubbing together, creating just that sweet-tinged friction Jack loved.
Jack's fingers traced the smooth outlines of the bones and muscles of Sam's back and arm, loving the flex of Sam's chest against his own. His ass was cradled in the palm of Sam's hand and his lips were thick from Sam sucking them.
The kiss was deep, their tongues caressing each other, their bodies abuzz with the heat and glide of skin on skin. Jack wound his hand down between them, gripping and sliding their cocks in unison.
Both pairs of hips snapped to accommodate the modified rhythm. And they were moaning into each others' mouths and bucking up, pre-cum slick on their cocks and Jack's hand.
Then Jack let go, lips leaving Sam's as he pushed Sam onto his back, one thigh between his own. And they fucked cock to cock, dicks aligned, pressing against smooth and solid columns of heat. Jack was rolling his hips, outstretched arms holding him at that exquisite angle where both bodies are grinding over all the most sensitive parts.
And Sam's back buckled, his eyes squeezing shut. He whimpered and moaned as the pressure built in his body. And Jack was right there with him, lungs pumping breaths faster, low noises tumbling out from the back of his throat. He pressed deeper, the rub of their dicks sending tremors down and up and out and he could feel his muscles tensing.
Then Sam was shuddering beneath him, lifting them both, and gushing over their dicks and his abs with a three-syllabled "fuck." Jack was following fast and hard, riding out a spasm that rocked his body as he came hot and groaning, their cream mixing warm on Sam's stomach.
And ... breathe.
Jack toppled over to lay next to Sam, spent and slightly euphoric. "Mmmm. Nice."
"Very nice."
"Mmmm. Yeah."
"Kinda different."
Jack snickered, turning to look at Sam who was somehow puzzling about something already this close after some pretty amazing sex. "Thought you said you'd done this before?"
Sam continued thinking too hard in the general direction of the ceiling. "Oh … I have … I mean … not like that, but … you know … with a guy … but we … you know … did it."
Jack scoffed with mock offense. "Are you saying we didn't just have sex? Because I seem to recall sex happening."
"Oh! No! That's not what I was saying." Sam's age was showing again as he turned to face Jack whose eyebrow was quirked in challenging disbelief. "Well, maybe that is what I was saying, but it's just … I dunno … sex seems to usually be about … things … going in places."
Jack's whole face lit up as he laughed. Sam's total inability to wrap his brain around a new sexual concept was ridiculously amusing, but Jack got himself under control fast enough to reach out and pull the shamed Sam to him, before he could scamper away to hide.
"Hey. It's okay. You just have to ... think outside the box a little." His hand came up to cup Sam's face, thumb brushing over Sam's lips. "There are so many very pleasurable things to learn and do in the world."
"Yeah?" Sam's smile returned as he wagged his eyebrow suggestively. "Are you gonna teach me, Jack?"
Jack knew his smile was devilish and sexy as hell. "Well … we do have all weekend."
Wednesday (Day 1): 1 of 3 - 2 of 3 - 3 of 3