he's not even sure he'd be able to break free if he really wanted to. sam's got muscles for days, what with all the grave digging. not that knox is complaining, but there's something sexy about feeling trapped by the boy above him. he's not so sure it'd be the same if their roles were reversed, but they're not so...

"oh yeah?" he says, all smug. with sam laying across him, it's almost too easy to hitch his leg around his thigh and crush their hips together. this does mean, of course, that it'll stop sam's hand from wandering further, but the minor flex that sam's not made him as helpless as he seems to think is worth it. 

"sam, i wanted to fuck you that first night we met. i've known nothing but patience with you." 

samuel carter

☉

something like a very undignified grunt escaped sam's throat when he felt knox hook his leg around to crash their hips together. if that wasn't a clear, 'fuck me now grave boy!' than nothing ever would be.

"since the very first night?"

there's a soft chuckle accompanying his words. the hand that had been lowering itself is forced back up. he caresses knox's side and then teasingly shifts the weight of his hips over knox.

"did you want to fuck me, or, did you want me to fuck you?"

he's not playing fair, no. but knox woke him up and then showered him with affection, so. y'know, here we are.

knox prescott

yes. hadn't he said that before? in a million more ways than one? every lingering stare, every wanting kiss, every groan and tug and nibble of desire. and every aggravation that had come between them until he'd finally had him. and that night had been perfect, really, and he's been worried to sully it since, though it's only been a few days. 

a few days after fucking, after not fucking for weeks. after waiting. hopelessly, despairingly, desperately waiting. (his own fault, really, wanting the 'perfect' moment.)

he narrows his eyes at sam, but his lips tug of their own accord, parting to betray his desire.

"shut up and kiss me already."

samuel carter

☉

his own want and desire for knox leads him to oblige instead of saying something else provocative. which had, in fact, crossed his mind. instead, he closes the distance between their lips to taste him. fully, happily, and with passion.

there has always been a passion in his actions. always a sort of worship to knox. a praise. gratitude for helping sam feel alive. helping him realize he had only been truly ghosting through life before having met him.

and what a beautiful thing they made. this fire between them, red hot and wild, much like knox. but contained, patient, waiting; like sam.

a quick kiss became a deeper one, a deeper kiss became too distracting to keep sam's hands pinned above his head. all too suddenly he wanted his hands all over knox's body and that's where they've ended up. pulling at clothes and tugging away layers.

because he wants him, in a way he's never wanted a single body in his life. like this was the only way as a mortal he could claim knox's soul and brave to touch it.

knox prescott

he half expects sam to say some sort of rebuttal, but he surprises him all the same. and that's what knox loves about him. how sam is still an enigma to him, after all this time. how he keeps him guessing, even though his hands are moving over him in patterns, looping with a scrawl that's become so familiar to the two of them. knox's toes curl, legs tighten, and once sam's grip has slackened on his arms, he loops them loosely around sam's neck. 

and then not so loosely, as sam's movements grow more feverish. his tongue is wanting and his fingers are fisting in sam's hair and he's groaning lowly in his throat. heat courses through him, a flush of lust rather than embarrassment. 

when he's exposed, the blankets all twisted around them, his and sam's hair a wild mess already, he drinks sam in, lets his hand drift from the nape of his neck to his back. he finds the small of his back and presses, coaxes sam to close the distance, all those little nooks and crannies, if only to feel together. 

he bites sam's lip teasingly. "we're still gonna need some of that," he says and juts his chin to sam's nightstand, where a couple of bottles are hidden in his drawer. 

samuel carter

☉

there is little in the way of making an action as needed to move forward look or even feel not awkward. but sam tries his damnedest.

he sits up a bit with one hand, keeping their bodies relatively close as to not create too much of a draft of air between their already damp bodies. his other hand reaches into the drawer and fiddles lightly with an already half used bottle. enough is within his hands and he begins kissing his way along knox's jaw and shoulder.

one hand around himself for only a moment, soft circles matching his tongue's movement along knox's skin. then, a probe, gently, softly, until a cue is given for more, and more. preparation given with soft moans and little nibbles here and there. enough that it's not, hopefully, too awkward.

he wants to come off as confident, not awkward.

knox prescott

SPOILER: Click to show

;)

he expects sam to hop off of him. he expects sam to excuse himself. he expects sam to at least look a little bit bothered with the mess they've made, but no, instead he's leaning back into him, closing what little distance he'd made, and is combining both their jackson pollock's by tugging knox against him. 

he looks down at his hands, at the knuckles he's brushing, and is almost upset, for a flicker, that sam's dared break the silence in the aftermath to ask him that. but his heart simultaneously melts and balloons and he laughs, an airy, ridiculous laugh that devolves into chuckles. 

his hand withdraws, but only so he can brush his knuckles across sam's collarbone, so he can tuck his thumb against sam's chin and draw him in for a kiss. 

"no," he says finally. "because i feel the same." he mumbles the words against sam's lips and then sighs.

samuel carter

☉

"oh good. i want to do that to you more often."

sam admits the fact with no embarrassment, simply stating fact. his eyes follow knox's features and he finally lays down, closing his eyes and playing the expression, the feeling, and the memory over and over again. burning it along the edges of his mind.

it was a first for him. not them, but for him, and in a way for them, he felt. something about it was different, felt right. felt better-- but perhaps he was just saying that because he'd had control. seemed knox liked it better as well, though. so that was a relief.

maybe @eden was right all this time and maybe he just needed to take it all by the horns and boss knox around... no, that felt wrong.

after a few moments, sam took in a deep breath and leaned up on his elbows. he looks to knox, his eyes hovering over his frame and his bare skin. just admiring him. taking in the sight of him fully.

because oh by gosh by golly did he look beautiful.

knox prescott

"pfff. to me? how about with me?" he's never considered himself a romantic, but even he has his limits. because sam hadn't done anything to him. they'd existed together, edges blurred and heartbeats one, and that togetherness is something sacred. he's never shared that type of intimacy with someone before. 

"but yes," he says and stretches a little bit. "you can. i'm a pillow princess at heart, my love." 

he looks down at himself, following sam's gaze, and at first he thinks sam's fixating on the mess between them, but when he lifts his gaze, sam is staring at him quite fondly. knox's stomach does a couple of flips and he grins widely, because nothing's more enamoring than having someone look at you like that. 

"the food's probably cold now," he says. 

samuel carter

☉

"yeah, with..." it's a mumbled agreement, one given without much thought. it's more of a parroting, really. but then knox notices his gaze and the smile that knox gives him is so amazing sam's seeing stars. literally. right before him. perfect twinkles and a glistening-- oh, wait, no the glistening and sparkling that's--

hm. they are quite messy.

the mention of cold food has sam shrugging as he sits up and sighs. the sort of sigh that shows he's trying to motivate himself to go get a shower instead of just lazing around in a messy state.

"i've never heard the term 'pillow princess' but, it does suit you." knox is, in fact, quite the princess. which has sam smirking at a specific thought. "is that a new endearment? am i to call you my pillow princess?"

. . . somebody call the media because samuel james carter just told a fucking joke. he shows as much with a smile that gives away his sarcasm plainly, then crosses the distance between them to snag a kiss.

"we should get a shower. i have a microwave, we can reheat the food."

knox prescott

knox tucks his palms behind his head, elbows pointing out at his sides. he makes a face at sam's suggestion, but doesn't bother asking him dear gods, please no, because he's finally learned how to sort the difference between sam talking and sam joking. don't ask him how, because he certainly wouldn't be able to explain it. 

he accepts the kiss gratefully and then sits up. life's nothing but a dream. in the aftermath, and around sam, it's easy to ignore the way his phone has been blowing up with death threats. easy to ignore his face plastered all over the usual channels, with a monetary reward for his capture. 

they can hide here forever. and he can sleep with sam and sleep with sam and they'll be okay. except, of course, for the fact that knox prescotts don't do well in captivity and he's already itching to go out again. 

hence the birthday gift. 

"shower and food and then i'll tell you our spooky plans for your spooooky birthday."

samuel carter

☉

there's a sheepish sort of frown on his face. the idea of moving isn't promising but, he does want to know what knox planned for his birthday. so he obliges.

"mmmmm.... yeah."

scooting off the edge of the bed, he carefully stands up and makes his way toward the shower. his attention more on knox than it is on the fact that he's in the bathroom turning the shower on and getting the temperature ready.

"should we shower solo? is the spooky birthday surprise time sensitive?"

yeah he might have been indicating that if they didn't shower solo they wouldn't get anything done that day. though, his muscles already acted like he'd gotten a work out in.

knox prescott

wow, they really have unlocked pandora's box, haven't they? sam has told knox countless times that sexy times with him are amazing and mind-blowing, but this might be the first time sam's been left looking at him so hungrily like that. 

it's only been about ten minutes, but evidently that's all his body needs when he's not pumping it full of drugs and abuse. he grabs a pillow to throw over his lap before sam can see, and before he's tempted to shirk away all their plans to spend the rest of the day messing around in bed. 

but...

no, knox. because a birthday only comes around every 365 days out of the year and it's something to celebrate. being alive is something to celebrate.

so with this newfound resolve, he hops out of bed and saunters to sam so he might kiss him on his nose, and his cheek, and his brow. 

"i'll be good," he promises and then steals himself into the water. "come on. birthday boys don't have to wash themselves."

samuel carter

☉