Sam's lying in bed watching gay porn for research purposes only.
Seriously, he's not even hard. Okay, so he's a little hard, but it's mainly because he's imagining Sage and him in some of these positions. Positions he's never attempted in his life. God, he's had sex mostly in missionary and a few times in reverse. He hasn't really experimented with sex at all. Sage has, he knows.
He pauses the clip he's watching (he'd moved from twink on twink stuff to bear and twink combos which he thinks is hotter) (he's also now trying to figure out if he's a bear or a twink) (he thinks he's neither.)
His phone is in his bed somewhere and he finds it, opening his messages where Sage is at the top. He taps his name and then hits the phone call. Sage answers on the second ring. "Sam?" he asks unsurely.
"How many people have you slept with?" Sam asks without hesitation.
Sage pauses and then goes, "Oh, hello, Sage, how are you doing on this fine afternoon? Oh, I'm very well, thank you for asking."
"That many huh," Sam responds with a roll of his eyes.
"How many people have you slept with?" Sage asks pointedly.
"Four people," Sam tells him honestly, kind of gloating. Four's a good number, he thinks. It's experience but not cause for concern.
Sage is quiet and Sam is definitely gloating now. Oh yeah, he just showed Sage. But then the boy goes, "How many men have you slept with?"
Sam's jaw falls and he gapes at his phone before he promptly hangs up on him. Mother freaking Sage.
So Sam's never technically slept with a guy before, or even kissed one up until Sage, but that's — that's just a matter of anatomy. Kissing is kissing. And the other stuff. Well, that's what the research is for, which he should probably get back to if he's going to blow Sage's brains out (and he is, that is the goal.)
Sage calls him back and when he answers, he says, "Did I strike a nerve?"
"Shut up Sage," Sam snaps.
The boy laughs on the other end of the phone. "Am I your first, Sam? I'm honored."
"Are you going to answer my question or not?" Sam grumbles.
"Are you asking me that because you're worried you're going to catch something from me?" Sage retorts. "Because I get tested regularly."
Sam was actually not asking for that reason. He was trying to figure out how many men Sage had to compare him to and how he could become the best Sage has ever had (because Sage is for Sam, hands down best hook up of his life.) But he's not going to tell Sage that.
"What's going on? Why'd you get all quiet?" Sage asks.
Sam says, "Come over later."
"Uh," Sage says, confused. "Okay. Like seven?"
"That works," Sam says before he hangs up. He glances at the clock in the corner of his laptop screen. It's a little after three. Four hours to get good at gay sex. He's got this.
❧
Being someone's fuck buddy isn't news one just casually announces to his family, so Sage keeps it to himself, stewing throughout his afternoon classes. He has a break before his last class and he sits in the back of Bluestone doing some work on his laptop when he gets a call from Sam.
Sam calling him is new.
When he answers, Sam promptly hits him with a, "How many people have you slept with?" It's unprecedented, halting Sage. He knows the number. He was in a relationship in high school but he'd gone into college single and the city nightlight did not disappoint. He's slept with fourteen people, nine of whom were women and most of which had occurred between his freshman and sophomore years of college, when he was doing the most experimenting.
But Sage isn't prepared to divulge that information with Sam. Particularly because he doesn't want to run him off before they get anywhere. So Sage refrains from responding directly, turning it around on Sam.
"How many people have you slept with?" he had asked Sam, not really expecting him to answer. Sam, who was in the business of surprising Sage lately, told him four people. The number wasn't all that surprising. Sage had suspected as much because Sam didn't prioritize socializing. It was that he was openly giving him that information. Maybe numbers didn't matter to Sam, but then if they didn't why was he even asking Sage.
In the end, Sage didn't have to answer.
He's thinking about it for the rest of the afternoon, that Sam's waiting for him in his apartment right now and that he's the first boy Sam's ever been with. He kind of really wants to ask him about it. Why Sage? Did he always know he was attracted to men or is that a new thing? Is Sage just an experiment?
Sage isn't sure he wants to know the answer to that last one. Sam had said he'd kissed him for research, to see if he'd like it, and he had. That could be enough for him.
He texts Ruthie on his way to his last class.
Sage: sam and I are fuck buddies now
Ruthie: about damn time
Ruthie: but how does that work when you both like each other
Sage: well clearly we both don't like each other
Ruthie: you think Sam doesn't like you?
Sage: I really don't know
Sage: but he's the one who suggested adding hooking up to our working relationship
Ruthie: fuck the feelings outta him, he's emotionally constipated
Ruthie: That sentence works for so many reasons
Sage: if it goes that far, I'm going to take it, I think
Ruthie: oh?
Sage: yeah I want to
Ruthie: no reason you can't give as good as you get
Sage: I think that would be too much for him
Ruthie: do yourself a favor and don't think for sam
Ruthie: you don't understand him enough to do that
Ruthie: so just ask him
Sage: I understand him perfectly
Ruthie: LOLLL
Ruthie: lies
Sage rolls his eyes at his phone as he finds a seat, taking one in the back so he doesn't disturb his professor since he's texting.
Ruthie: I'm only gonna tell you this the once and then you can refer back to it once you've had enough of the games.
Ruthie: If you want more, ask for it. Don't settle just because you think it's all you can get. Because it's not.
Sage: And if I don't want more?
Ruthie: Do you want me to pretend to believe that lie
Sage: You're not very nice
Ruthie: I'm honest and I've honestly watched you fret over this boy for the last three years. This is a LONG time coming. You two pretending this isn't what it is, is just more time wasted. But you're both stubborn so do you, I guess
Sage: that do you feels very much like a don't do me
Sage: maybe we have sex and I realize I don't actually like him
Ruthie: doubt it
Sage: maybe we have sex and he realizes he does actually like me
Ruthie: highly likely
Sage: maybe we have sex and I tell him how I feel afterwards
Ruthie: or you tell him how you feel before you complicate things with sex
Sage: nope that doesn't sound fun and I'm going there after class so sex first, feelings second I will let you know how epically it fails
Ruthie: 🤷🏾♀️ why do I try?!
If Ruthie's right, if Ruthie is right, then Sage gets what he wants at the end of this. Which is Sam. He wants Sam. He's done denying that.
❧
Sam is one knuckle deep in himself and he's trying to understand why it feels obscene and obscenely good and how he can replicate this for Sage.
❧
Sage has showered, has prepped himself, and is standing outside Sam's door when it occurs to him he didn't jack off today. He was up late painting, which he never does, and then he nearly overslept, so there was no time for it.
He thinks for a second that he could just go back, jack off really fast, like world record level fast, but then that may compromise whatever's going to happen in Sam's apartment. Alright, now he's stressing out about it because he wants it to be good for Sam. Is certain that if it is Sam will keep coming back and if he keeps coming back he'll have to catch some sort of feelings for Sage, right.
And it won't be any good if he can't last more than five seconds.
Shit, he's really freaking out now.
He hasn't knocked yet but Sam opens the door, giving Sage a questioningly look. "Were you going to stand there all night?"
Sage steps inside. "How did you know I was standing out here?"
"My spidey sense was tingling," Sam responds. Sage is surprised he's even able to make the reference. Sam has proven he's not very cultured when it comes to movies.
"Is that the only thing that was tingling?" he asks stepping close to him, pressing a hand against his side. His eyes dart down Sam, and then back up to his eyes, drawing his gaze up slowly so Sam doesn't miss it.
Sage tilts his head so he can drag his nose down the side of Sam's neck. He can hear Sam's breath, the quickness of it, and smiles before he nips at his jugular. Sam whines, the sound sitting mostly in his throat so he feels it against his tongue as he licks at his teeth marks.
Sam surprises him, taking a handful of his teeshirt and fisting it as he jerks Sage away from him. "The doorway was fun the first time, but I want you in my bed," Sam says and Sage's whole brain catches and gets stuck on I want you.
He nods feebly and lets Sam tug him towards the bed. It's not made, but it's not slept in either. The drawsheet and comforter have been folded back and Sam's laid out a towel. They both stare at it and Sam goes, his tone uneasy, "That wasn't presumptuous, was it?"
Sage shakes his head. "No. I don't think it's a question of what we're doing here, right?"
Sam doesn't look so sure and Sage was sure that they were on the same page but then he remembers he's Sam's first. Sex is sex, really, but sleeping with a man is a bit more nuanced. Especially if you never thought you ever would.
Sage tries something, something he thinks worked the first time. He goes, "Sam. Take your clothes off." His voice is low and husky but there's no questioning the command in his tone.
And commands seem to work for Sam because he swallows before grabbing the neckline of his sweatshirt so he can pull it over his head. He's not wearing anything under it and Sage drinks him in, the slope of his pecs, the hard muscle, the shadows they cast over his stomach.
He has to stop looking because Sam's fingers are paused at his hips, at the drawstring of his sweatpants and he goes, "Now you."
Sage smirks and goes, "Take it off for me."
Sam's flushing, the color breaking out on his face and moving down his neck. His hands drop from his hips as he closes the small distance between them and reaches for the hem of Sage's teeshirt. Sage lifts his arms and Sam takes it off of him in one move. His fingers graze his nipples and he shivers.
It doesn't go unnoticed and Sam's eyes drop to Sage's chest as his fingertips brush the hairs before he scrapes his fingernails down over his nipples. Sage flinches, going, "Sam, what the fuh-ah."
❧
The word is bitten off. Sam bites it off, kissing up into Sage's mouth aggressively, with so much force Sage has to take a step back to brace himself, hands coming up to hold onto Sam. Sam tweaks his nipples as he kisses him, kisses down over his chin as he grabs onto Sage's shoulders and shoves him back onto the bed.
He goes down and Sam follows him, straddling his hips as he kisses his neck. He doesn't stay there long, trailing his lips over his chest till he can pull his nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly. Sage gasps, arching into his touch. Sam thinks okay good that's a good sign.
He rocks his hips, aware that he's already hard and trying to find Sage's dick. He lifts his mouth, looking up Sage's chest at him. "Can you stop wearing jeans to my place please and thank you," he says moving down his body.
"Who knew all I had to do was get you into bed to get some manners out of you," Sage retorts.
His words hit Sam right in the dick. God. Hot. Why is everything Sage says so hot?
"Shut up," Sam says not meaning it in the slightest. He's hovering over Sage's crotch now and he looks down at it, at the button and fly. He didn't just practice finger stuff. He undoes Sage's jeans and starts tugging. "Can you lift your hips?" he asks as he pulls his jeans down. Sage isn't up the bed enough so Sam has to stand up to get enough space between them to pull them off.
His bed is low enough that standing leaves him looking down at Sage. Sage in black briefs and most definitely hard. Sam feels a surge of sweet panic, an unnerving mix of excitement and fear.
"So fucking hot," he says without meaning to, just a whisper but not whispery enough because Sage's gaze finds his and he looks. Fucking hot fuck. Sam's in over his head, he's drowning but he's also plugging his nose and diving under. Let the current take him. He's ready to go.
"I want to—," Sage starts to say, pausing.
"Huh?" Sam says swallowing a mouthful of saliva. He is literally drooling over Sage's dick what's that about.
Sage lifts himself up on his elbows. "What do you want?" he asks finally. "Do you know?"
Does he know? Of course he knows.
Sam bends down to grab onto Sage's calves. Sage's eyes never leave him as he pulls with all his strength, sliding the boy to the edge of the bed. His legs hang over and Sam kneels between them. It's a good height, lines him up perfectly for what he wants to do next.
Sage sits up completely, looking down at Sam. His blue eyes are black, the pupils blown. "What are you doing?" he asks his voice drawn tight like a violin string.
"You know what I'm doing," Sam says as he runs his hands up Sage's thighs. He can't see the hair on his legs really because it's so light and fine but he can feel them.
"Well you don't have to," Sage says after a moment. Sam brushes his fingers under the fabric on his thighs before grazing over them. He doesn't go for the waist band of his underwear, though, he goes for the slit in the center of it.
"I want to," Sam says before he reaches into his underwear and pulls his dick out. Sam's never thought about dicks in general, but he has thought about Sage's dick quite a bit, even more so since he's seen it.
Touching his own doesn't quite compare to touching Sage's. Its warmth spreads across his fingers and Sage's tip is wet, precum dripping down the side. Sam wonders what it tastes like and then he remembers he doesn't have to wonder so he puts Sage in his mouth, forgetting that he'd practiced this (he'd planned to draw this out, teasing Sage, licking at his thighs first, and then his balls, he'd take his length slowly, sucking on the tip like Sage had done to Sam.)
He's foregoing that plan because he's more eager than he expected. He's lost control before he's even properly enabled it. Is running into this recklessly and is perfectly okay with that.
Sage's sounds are high and soft, breathier than how Sam sounds. It only encourages Sam to take him deeper into his mouth, till he's hitting the back of his throat. "Fuck Sam, what the fuck?" Sage says with a gasp.
Sam pulls away, coughing as he aspirates on his saliva and possibly some precum (no real taste, hard to distinguish between his spit.) "What? What'd I do?"
Sage is breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling. His arms are braced against the bed, making his biceps bulge.
"I thought you've never done this?" Sage finally gets out, like he has to force the words past his lips. He's rigid and Sam can't tell if he's done something good or bad.
Sam frowns. "I haven't. So if it's bad just say so and direct me."
"It's not bad," Sage says rubbing at his chest. "It's really not bad."
"Okay, then good," Sam says and leans back in, thinking he'll resume. Sage reaches out, catching Sam's chin so he can hold him off.
"I can't. I'm going to—." He makes a face, looking both embarrassed and pained.
"You can," Sam says definitively. "In my mouth. I want you to." He says it to Sage's dick because he's looking at it, wants it back in his mouth. Never thought he'd want something like that but now knows he will never not want it.
"And I want you to fuck me," Sage says finally.
❧
Sam's eyes dart upwards. He looks so good between Sage's knees, like an angel coming to collect his soul. Sage thinks he'd give it to him if that's what he wanted. As it stands, he has no idea what Sam wants.
Ruthie was right, it turns out.
Sage is going to take this whole night apart later. He's going to dissect every single thing that was said, that was done. Like how Sam took his whole length with ease, the tongue trick, the swirling as he sucked.
Sage is kind of annoyed. Leave it to Sam to be good at something he's never done. Sage's first time was a disaster. He threw up on the guy (there'd been some alcohol involved but mostly he discovered his gag reflex was heavy on the gag.)
Sam's eyes dart back down to Sage's lap, lingering before they return to his face. "Can we do both?" he asks finally.
See. Full of surprises.
Sage wonders because he's a masochist if he's going to help Sam discover all these things he likes, like sucking dick apparently, and then he's going to go off and do it with someone else, someone better.
It's not a very nice thought but it leaves quickly because he's back in Sam's mouth. The boy's going to kill him. He most definitely can't do both and he didn't prep for some toy in his room later. He prepped for Sam's dick. And he's going to have it.
"Sam," he says, raking his hand through Sam's hair. It's long, could use a haircut but Sage kind of likes, likes that he can grab a handful and pull Sam's head off of him. His lips are bright red, making his teeth look porcelain as he grins.
"Alright, alright," he mumbles placing his hands on Sage's knees so he can use him to hoist himself to his feet. His sweatpants aren't hiding how much he enjoyed himself. Sage shifts up the bed as Sam walks over to his nightstand.
"I have condoms, lube, do I need anything else?"
He looks over at him so Sage shakes his head. "No. You can take those off, though," he says lifting his chin to gesture to his pants. Sage is taking his underwear off as he speaks and can feel the lube between his legs. "I already prepped, so."
Sam's got his pants halfway down his legs and he stops. "What? Why?"
"What do you mean why?"
"What if I wanted to Sage?" he snaps, righting himself as he kicks his sweatpants the rest of the way off.
"Did you want to?" Sage asks finally.
"Well what does it matter now? You already have."
Sam. Full of surprises. Destroyer of man. Or more specifically one man. Sage. He's going to destroy him.
Sage says, "Come here."
Sam does, climbing into bed with him. Sage opens his legs and Sam comes between them, brushing his fingers over Sage's thighs. "The lube," Sage instructs. "Put some on your fingers."
Sam listens and then waits for Sage's next order. Sage gets distracted for a moment, watching Sam's dick bob in his briefs as he moves. Sage really doesn't have the patience or agility for this.
"Alright, go head," he says watching Sam carefully, watching him hesitate as he drags a finger past Sage's balls. He hovers there, teasing at Sage's hole.
Sam bites his bottom lip as he stares down at him. Sage should feel self conscious about it, about the fact the lights are on and he is fully bare and open to Sam, the boy he's spent the last three years trying to take down, to ruin.
The boy who has the ability to ruin him.
But he doesn't. He feels invulnerable.
Sage grunts when he slips his finger into him and Sam goes still. "Bad?" he asks.
Sage has closed his eyes and his hips are grinding down into the mattress. Sam doesn't have long fingers so he's never going to be deep enough. "Good," he says. "Add a finger."
"What? Really?"
"Sam. Another finger."
Sage will never not be surprised by the way Sam doesn't argue with him here, in the in-between, the sex place. It'll never not surprise him the way Sam likes taking orders, and takes them well.
He's thinking about it as Sam gets a second finger in him, thinking about how Sam makes all the decisions for his life, has probably been making them long before he should've had to, thinking about Sam always being in charge and responsible for himself. Maybe Sam likes taking orders because it means he doesn't have to think about it. Maybe Sam likes when the decisions been made for him.
Oh, Sage doesn't know. Sage is high, high on the stretch and burn of stretching. And yeah, that's enough of that. He needs Sam inside him.
Sage says, "Okay, Sam. No more fingers."
"I uh," Sam responds and that's a confusing response so Sage opens his eyes to look at him. Sam's still staring down at him, watching his fingers work. "This is the hottest thing I've ever seen," he says finally.
Sage can't stop himself from laughing and that breaks Sam out of it. He looks up at Sage and goes, "Don't laugh at me."
"I'm not," Sage says but he totally is. "It can get hotter," he says next. "If you'd get your dick in me."
❧
It's possible that Sam greatly miscalculated everything, specifically what he's feeling for Sage. Because he is definitely feeling something for Sage. Feeling deeply, feeling stronger than he thought he'd ever be able to. His whole life feels like a joke to him now and this is the punch line.
He's holding one of Sage's legs, his knee sitting under his chin so his shin's pressed against his chest and he's lined up. If he moves an inch he's going to be inside of Sage.
"You're sure about this?" he asks Sage because it's a big deal and he wants to be certain they're both on the same page here.
"Yes, Sam, yes," he says his hips lifting and falling rhythmically. This whole thing is very hot and Sam is never going to forget it, no matter how it all ends but Sage, Sage is not hot. Sage is fucking devastating, all rosy and glowing.
Sam sinks into Sage and thinks I have greatly miscalculated it all.
He bites down on Sage's knee and the boy moans. It's the only way to stop him from saying something stupid. But he's thinking it. He's thinking all the stupid things.
Thinking Sage you have always been there, since the very beginning, and even though I hated you every second of it, I have loved every second of hating you.
Thinking please don't let this change anything, please don't let it ruin us.
Thinking I want to take you home and show you off. I want my world to know about you.
Thinking I want this to never end.
Thinking I want you. Always.
Sage is moaning in tandem with Sam's thrusts. Sam can't look away, watching the pleasure twist his features. His eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth is open, the sounds coming out of it unobstructed and unchecked. Sage is vocal. Sam wants to seal his mouth over his and swallow the sound but he can't kiss him from up here, not without stopping.
And he's not stopping. He's speeding up. Sage clutches at the bed and his dick bounces, slapping against his stomach, leaving strings of precum.
Sage, so vocal, so sweet, says, "Oh, that's it, Sam. Right there."
Sage moans his name and Sam wants to let go in the most unhinged way he knows. He wants to give up the last strand of control, he wants to give it all up to Sage, but he's fairly certain Sage should go first.
He lets go of Sage's leg, which gets the boy's attention. He looks up at him just as Sam sprawls across his chest, slowing things down as he drops his head next to Sage's and says, "You'll come for me, won't you Sage?"
Sage grabs his face and pulls him into a kiss that sucks the air right out of lungs. And Sage is singing down his throat as finishes, the sounds so soft it's a siren song and Sam is caught, coming and coming apart, leavings strands of his soul all over the bed. Sage has him in pieces.
Sam's ears are ringing and he feels like he could faint, that he would, if he were standing. "Bad?" he asks, his question muffled in Sage's throat where his face is pressed. He licks at the sweat that's settled there.
"Good," Sage mumbles, his voice low and spent.
Sam can feel the wetness between their bodies and he's delusional, sex punched and not entirely all there, when he slides down Sage and licks the string of cum on his stomach. Sage doesn't moan, he fucking squeals practically, the sound twisting around, "Sam? What are you doing?"
"What does it look like?" Sam asks before he takes Sage's dick and laps at the tip. "Cleaning up my mess."
"Oh Jesus help me," Sage says quietly.
Sam thinks if there's anyone who needs the help here, it's him, because he cannot get enough of Sage.