return_to_nola | Samuel--Home

The front door rattled when Oliver kicked it shut behind him. Belatedly, he remembered that this particular pair of shoes loved leaving prints on the plain white paint, but oh well, what's done is done, and his hands were full.

"Hey, Sam," he called into the apartment at large. Oliver assumed Samuel was home because he was emailed a detailed spreadsheet listing Sam's upcoming work schedule on the first of every month. Also, his bedroom light was on. "A new coffee place just opened down the street and they're giving out free coffee."

Carefully, he started setting down the six huge lattes he'd poached from the frazzled barista who'd been distracted by trying to create legible foam art. The lid on one was loose, sending a splash of coffee on the counter, but even still, Oliver put his hands on his hips and looked down on his bounty like a proud father.

Six! This might be enough to get him through the overnight shift at the tattoo parlor.

But then, with a pang of conscience, he called out, "I guess you can have one of mine."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver knew when he was being kissed into just shutting up already, and frankly, he didn't have a major problem with that. He pushed himself in closer, cupping Sam's jaw with his free hand—and of course even that was perfectly clean and precisely shaved, no missed spots, not even on the curve—as he opened his mouth for Sam, hungry already. He was impatient about a lot of things.

From:

nola_cyclops

Oliver was annoyingly attractive, annoyingly unattached to detail-oriented home-keeping, and annoyingly great at kissing. The way he held Sam's jaw was far more erotic than it had any right to be, and yes, that just made Sam kind of angry and also not angry at all. It was a weird headspace. It was one that inspired Sam to grip hard to Oliver's waist, to push them back against the counter, to kiss deeply. Did he still have a headache, or was everything throbbing?

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver made a little noise of surprise when his back hit the counter, but it definitely wasn't an unhappy one. Who knew a Type A pilot would be so pushy and forceful during sex? Actually, no, that made perfect sense, so why hadn't Oliver thought of doing this sooner? It was basically his favorite thing?

He nipped Sam's lower lip lightly in encouragement—yes, more of that, please—before dropping his hands to loosen Sam's fly for him. If he wasn't going to do it, someone had to.

From:

nola_cyclops

Oh god. Were they going to be compatible now? Sam was half-expected all of this to fall apart in some total chemistry mismatch, but that sound Oliver made, his willingness to be moved. Oh dear god. Oh no. "Not yet," Sam told him, and reached for Oliver's hand - holding it up above their heads. He could wait for a minute, Sam wasn't done with kissing, with pressing his bare chest against Oliver's, with those sounds.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oh fuck, seriously? Oliver was abruptly more turned on than he'd been in longer than he cared to acknowledge, and it was with this nerd?

He was impatient, hated waiting, but he did what Sam wanted, letting his hand grow still in Sam's. The kiss seemed to linger on and on, intense but without intent. He liked the way Sam's mouth tasted, albeit reluctantly, all minty and clean, and that was more than Oliver could say about some of his past hookups. Most of them came from last call at bars, which Sam probably didn't even know was a thing.

From:

nola_cyclops

Wow, so this is how you could get Oliver to do something. Sam filed that information away; he also kissed Oliver's neck down his shoulder, and bit -- fairly hard -- in the hollow there, soothing over it with his tongue to ease the sting. Oliver had tasted like coffee, and he felt soft and strong here, somehow more real now than he had ever been. Sam pushed one of his legs in between Oliver's, keeping that hand held firmly, though at the wrist now. He wondered how long he could make Oliver wait.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"Fuck," Oliver groaned, not trying to keep quiet, and road Sam's leg a little, just to get the edge off. It was hard, and so was he, so it was a perfect combination right now. Sam was perfect right now, and his mouth trailing all along Oliver's skin, and if that didn't blow his mind, nothing would.

From:

nola_cyclops

"Yes, eventually," Sam said pleasantly, because there wasn't much he liked more than having some kind of upper hand -- even if his breathing was ragged, even if he was relatively close to losing his own composure. But Oliver didn't need to know that yet, not when Sam could kiss him again (Sam really, really liked to kiss), and palm between Oliver's legs with his free hand. He wasn't giving Oliver back his arm until he absolutely had to.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver pressed against Sam's palm eagerly, both for his own pleasure and as silent praise—yes, you're doing this to me, good job! Rubbing up on him made it easier to go sink happily into the kiss, lose himself in it and whatever Sam wanted, as long as feeling good kept happening.

From:

nola_cyclops

Later, if Sam could ever bring himself to reflect on this moment, he would think about that eagerness and impatience, about how natural this seemed to unfold, about how good Sam felt right now. If he could ever think about what was happening. And he might never. Sam considered keeping them exactly like this -- about closing his hand around Oliver and bringing him to climax and walking away -- and, as he toyed with the idea, he curved his hand, gave more intent to his movement. It could all be over relatively quickly, he sensed. That would probably be the sensible conclusion. Was Sam feeling sensible?

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver broke the kiss but didn't pull back, murmuring against Sam's lips, "You going to torture me to death?"

His arm stayed at ease in Sam's arm, though, acquiescent, as he nuzzled in to nip lightly at Sam's ear lobe. God, he smelled nice, like soap and generally being well-scrubbed. Of course he did. Living with disgusting Oliver probably drove him to hourly showers.

From:

nola_cyclops

"I'm actively considering it." That move with the ear lobe, though. That was good, and Sam's breath caught in the back of his throat. "But I'm interested in hearing what you want." Before this went too far. Before Sam could lose his entire mind.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"To get my mouth on you," Oliver said. Again, without thinking, but it seemed like a pretty solid idea, actually. What he wanted more than anything was to see Sam break apart.

From:

nola_cyclops

Oh no. As soon as Oliver said it, Sam wanted it. He ached for it. He grabbed Oliver by the back of his neck and kissed him crushingly hard, but then he let go entirely. Oliver's body was his own again; he could do what he wanted.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver's legs felt like jelly, his body disconnected from itself, but somehow he managed to smoothly sink down to his knees in front of Sam. He touched the top button of Sam's pants, toying with it but not undoing it, and looked up at him through his lashes. "Am I allowed now, or is this staying a secret garden?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Oliver moved annoyingly well. It was almost breathtaking. "You're allowed," Sam replied, noting with satisfaction that Oliver had asked, even if the secret garden part was typically obnoxious. Seriously though: had Oliver always been beautiful?

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver grinned widely, keeping his eyes locked on Sam's as he made short work of the fly. But then he pushed Sam's pants and underwear down to his thighs, and yeah, this needed his full attention now.

"Hello," he told Sam's cock happily, and leaned in to give the underside a low, slow lick.

From:

nola_cyclops

"Did you just greet--" Okay you know what? Never mind. Never. Mind. Because this was happening. Sam steadied himself with a hand in Oliver's hair. He could get used to this configuration.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Well, if that shut Sam up, all the more reason for Oliver to lean in and take him in his mouth. Soon all he could hear was the blood rushing in his own ears, and all he could feel and smell and taste was Sam. And that was perfectly, weirdly, just like Sam's hips seemed to fit perfectly in Oliver's hands, holding him still as he took him apart.

From:

nola_cyclops

Oh, this just because either a really big problem or a complete non-problem. By which Sam meant this just became fucking perfect? And not just because this wasn't exactly a common occurrence in Sam's life, and not just because Oliver looked maybe even subjectively hot right now, and and not just because this felt amazing. It was all of that, and it was that Sam was losing his tightly-controlled demeanor. He groaned, loud, tugging tightly on Oliver's hair, his face unlined and free from stress, for once.

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver groaned around him and shivered when Sam pulled at his hair. Yes, positive reinforcement, perfect. Oliver was finally being a smart-mouth in a way Sam approved of, apparently.

He pulled off abruptly, needed a deep gulp of breath, but he replaced his mouth with his hand immediately, jerking Sam hard and fast as he smirked up at him. "Are you sure I'm allowed to do this? Not too messy?"

From:

nola_cyclops

"Don't ruin this," Sam said replied, with whatever cognitive function he had left, because of course he would have to clean this all up later, but clearly Oliver was allowed to do this; Sam pulled even harder on his hair, momentarily displaced from the concept of time. Still, he did cover Oliver's hand with his own to still it, to prevent an inevitable conclusion. "Wouldn't you rather I do this to you?"

From:

nola_quicksilver

Oliver arched his back, hissing a little at the sharp tug of his hair. Why was this so good? It didn't make sense at all—Sam was annoying, he was fussy, he sent detailed roommate chore meeting recap emails. But he also held on to Oliver like he was the boss of him, and yeah, something about that was really turning Oliver's crank.

He turned his face against Sam's stomach, nipping at him, just to see if he'd get a reaction. "Have you done it before?"

From:

nola_cyclops

Sam laughed -- actually laughed, albeit a huff of a laugh, caught up, still, in the moment -- "Are you asking if I've ever done anything with anyone, or something more specific?" Because for all of Sam's problems, and he knew he had many, he felt good here, in control here, self-possessed here. Well, not when Oliver nipped at him, in that second he belonged only to the feeling. But otherwise, yes, he was the boss of Oliver, and thank you for finally noticing.

From:

nola_quicksilver

"I meant going down on someone with a penis, but if this is a deflowering, I wouldn't mind knowing?" He licked Sam's abs delicately, just because he could, and was surprised to find he tasted a little like sweat. He didn't know Sam could sweat.