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Sam puts a magazine away on his shelf, sighing as he looks at the clock in his room. It taunts him. He's been flicking through the pages for the last twenty minutes. Even worse, he's been trying to clean his room for the last two hours, and it's somehow messier than when he started.
He sits with his head in his hands. The floor is cluttered, he needs to pick everything up before he can vacuum. It all has a place, he just can't super remember where. Truth be told he can't recall how the room ended up like this. It's not been that long since he last cleaned, but the piles of clothes, vinyls, instruments and other random crap always finds its way to his floor.
He bites his lip as he gets up to organise some video games on his desk, but one is missing the cartridge, and soon he's forgotten what he's doing. Another half an hour passes, and he slams a gridball against the wall in frustration. It's just so fucking infuriating. Everyone else can seem to maintain a clean room, so why does it make him so overwhelmed?
Suddenly, in the back of his mind, he can hear his parents and teachers calling him lazy and unmotivated.
He finds himself flat on his bed staring at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock reminds him of how little progress he's made. Tears threaten to spill from the corner of his eye.
I've got to do this. It's not that hard. It won't even take that long. I really have to get this done.
A buzz in his pocket pulls him out of his thoughts. His heart skips a beat seeing Sebastian's name on the screen. "Hey, u up for a drink tonight?"
"Can't, gotta clean my room," he replies. It's silly, really, he's a grown man, but his mother is pretty clear that under her house what she says goes. Besides, maybe it wouldn't hurt to not see Seb for a night. Lately being around him has been hard, what with the way Sam's skin lights on fire with every casual touch and inside joke. The dude's his best friend for fuck's sake, and yet Sam can't help the dirty thoughts that cross his mind whenever Seb bites his lip in concentration, or when he stretches after a long day of programming, revealing the pale skin of his stomach and his dark happy trail that-
Fuck.
Whatever.
Sam watches the three dots floating on his screen as Seb types. His heart beats a little faster as he waits.
"Ugh, again? Hold on, I'm coming over," Sebastian's message reads.
Wait, what? Shit shit shit.
Sam sits up on the bed and runs to the bathroom. The mirror is not his friend today. Blonde hair sticks out in all different directions, and not in a good way, and he's unshaved and a little tired. He can't be bothered to change out of his pyjamas— loose blue sweatpants that hang low on his hips and an oversized band tee— but he brushes his teeth and takes the time to gel his hair how he likes it. By the time he's done, he hears a knock on the front door. A cloud of body spray engulfs him as he leaves the bathroom.
"Seb!" Sam's eyes light up. His black-haired friend stands outside with his hands in his pockets. Black hoodie and black skinny jeans, ripped at the knee. He's got this aura that he just doesn't care what others think. Not like Sam, who's always driving himself crazy for validation.
"Sup?"
"You really didn't have to come y'know. I can clean by myself."
Sebastian holds a hand up to stop him, walking towards Sam's bedroom. "Dude, last time cleaning your room took you 3 days and I was bored as shit. There's no way you're doing that to me this weekend. Now show me the damage."
Sam looks at the floor, cheeks pink, as Seb slams his bedroom door open. The latter lets out a low whistle. "Damn, Samson. Did a tornado go through your room?"
"Shut up," he grumbles, but Seb just laughs. Despite the comment, there's not a single ounce of judgement in his tone. It's one of the reasons why Sam loves him so much. Whether it's a messy room, constantly forgetting things, running late or simply being in his pyjamas at 3pm on a Friday, Seb never has anything bad to say. He thinks he's the only person in town who doesn't.
"Alright let's get started, I wanna be done in time to go to the saloon."
"What, can't wait to get drunk?"
"Nah I just want to beat your ass at pool again." He gives his arm a gentle slap and Sam blushes, his skin tingling from the touch.
Get it together, Samson.
They put on some background tunes and get to work, singing badly on purpose and changing the lyrics as they go. Surprisingly, they are making progress. There's still piles of crap on the floor, but at least they are organised piles of crap. And Seb's made good work of shoving whatever doesn't fit in his drawers under the bed, and bigger items into the closet. After a while, the floor is mostly visible.
"Dude, I'm so bored." Seb leans against the wall and takes a hit of his vape. Sam is immediately swallowed by the smell of bubblegum. He jerks his head in Seb's direction and gulps as he just manages to catch the sight of vapour leaving his pink lips.
"Dude, my mum's going to kill me."
Seb shrugs, offering it to him. "Relax. The smell will be gone by the time she comes back. Besides, I don't even think she knows what a vape is."
This is basically secondhand kissing, Sam thinks. The taste is a nice distraction, but his heart is still beating in his ears.
"Um, I'll be right back," he mumbles collecting a stack of mugs. He's got a bad habit of forgetting about his drinks, so now he's reduced to doing the walk of shame to the kitchen. At least he can get some air. Maybe some space will finally let him breathe. His friend only hums in acknowledgement, pocketing the vape and getting back to his task of collecting guitar picks from the floor.
Seb is on his knees looking under the bed when Sam returns. He turns around immediately, and Sam notices his cheeks are pink and he's avoiding his gaze, but he's got that smug smirk on his face that always means Sam's in trouble.
"What?" Sam asks.
"Why don't you come have a look yourself?"
The blond gives his friend another confused look, but joins him by the bed anyways. He leans down and looks under it, his eyes taking a little to adjust and—
Oh.
Immediately he wishes the ground would open and swallow him up. His heart sinks. There, in plain view, is a sex toy. His sex toy. Ribbed and rainbow and long. The one he uses when he thinks about Seb, who's currently next to him, suppressing giggles and failing miserably.
Sam wonders if he can crawl under the bed and live there forever. Can he play this off as a joke? A prank? Probably not, not when his brain has stopped working. Slowly, he sits up on his knees, looking horrified.
Sebastian is laughing so hard his face is changing shades. "Sam, your face. It's okay. It's okay." He gasps for breath between each word.
At least he isn't disgusted?
"Aren't you gonna get it?" Seb grins at him and Sam squirms in his spot.
"Fuck off," he protests. His face is so hot it might actually blow up.
Seb throws his hands up in defence. "What, you gonna leave it there?"
Sam squeezes his eyes shut and swallows his pride as he reaches under the bed and pulls the toy out in all its rainbow glory. Sebastian whistles and winks at him, and Sam thinks he's going to die from embarrassment. He curses himself for not putting it away ages ago as he shoves it into his bottom drawer and covers his face, already planning how he's going to move countries and change his name.
Seb tries to move his hands away from his face but he stays firm. "Sam, it's fine," he says and Sam can't understand how he seems so nonchalant.
It's cause he isn't in love with you.
"It's not fine," his voice is shakier than what he'd like, and Seb finally softens.
"Of course it is, you idiot. I know it's embarrassing but what's the big deal?"
That I imagine it's you. You'd hate me if you knew.
Sam shakes his head but puts his hands down. "You mean you don't mind that I'm..." The word is too heavy to say, he's accepted it for years, but never told anyone. Never seemed worth doing. There's only one person he wants.
Seb finishes his sentence. "What, gay? Dude, do you really think that's something I'm gonna judge you for? If you wanna fuck yourself with a massive rainb—"
He squeals. "Seb!"
"I'm only teasing." There's a pause, and then that cocky smile returns. "I actually think it's kind of... hot." A sharp breath escapes him as Seb places a hand on his thigh.
Okay, now he has to be fucking with him. That doesn't stop the blood from rushing to his face though, and his dick.
Don't get hard, don't get hard, don't get hard.
"Seb, fuck off," he growls. "This isn't funny."
Seb shrugs. "Who says I'm trying to be?"
Sam wills his eyes to look at him. Throat dry as he speaks. "What— What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that all this time," he moves to get closer, basically straddling him. His voice is low, sultry. Dark eyes stare down at him with hunger. "I've been torturing myself over falling for my straight best friend, while he's been here, fucking himself, without me."
Sam swallows hard. His mouth waters as he looks up wide-eyed. How often has he dreamt about this?
"I. Uhm. I like you too. Have for like, ever."
Smooth.
It doesn't matter.
Suddenly, Seb shifts in his lap and his hand wraps around the back of his neck. Sam's gaze follows his lips, rosy and soft and adorned by a silver piercing that suits him so well. And oh fuck, Seb's also looking at his lips and inching closer and he's closing his eyes and, and—
Seb's kissing him.
Sebastian, his best friend, is kissing him.
Immediately Sam gets hit by his scent— vanilla and smoke and bubblegum. It's intoxicating. Every nerve in his body is in overdrive as their lips make contact. He's hyper aware of the way the grip on the back of his neck has tightened, the way Seb's thighs press into his, the cold feeling of his lip piercing against warm skin. It's all too much.
It's over as quickly as it started. Before Sam can fully process it Seb is pulling away. He looks shy for the first time since he got here. Kinda how he is around other people, but never around Sam. He tucks a strand of blonde hair behind Sam's ear. "Is this okay?"
It's all he can do to nod. "More than."
Sebastian smiles and in a second their lips are together again. This time, Sam makes sure to kiss back. The feeling of Sebastian on him, his ass pushing down on his half-hard cock is enough to take his breath away. His hands are under Seb's shirt, feeling every inch of his milky white skin as their tongues explore each other. Seb's hand is tangled in his hair, the other hooked around his waist, when they finally separate.
"Fuck, Seb, you're so hot."
"Is that why you're hard right now, Samson?" He's referring to the pressure against his ass, of course. His choice of clothing leaves little to the imagination.
He's about to try to come up with a witty remark when he feels a slender hand playing with the waistband of his pyjamas. "Seb," he gasps instead.
"What?"
"Please."
What he's begging for he doesn't know. Every inch of his body wants more, of whatever Seb is willing to give him. He'll take all of it. And he'll thank him for every bit of it.
They move quick, and Seb smirks and Sam shudders as he feels, for the first time in his life, a hand that isn't his around his member. Warm and soft and firm. Fuck, Seb's hand is so good. He can't help but moan against his mouth, whiny and high pitched and desperate. Seb is forming a steady rhythm now, eliciting all kinds of noises from his best friend like an instrument.
"You look so good like this, Sammy," Seb mutters into his ear and he can't help but melt. Eyes squeezed shut and mouth half open as Seb's hand works its magic. He's always so calm and collected, looks like he knows what he's doing. So unlike Sam, who's clumsy and rushed and flustered all the time.
It takes a little bit of bravery but with a sharp breath, Sam fumbles with the zip on Sebastian's black skinny jeans. He's rewarded with a moan as he palms him through the fabric of his underwear. "So fucking good," he mumbles, sinking his hand on his bare skin. Sebastian gasps as he does, hunching forward so he lays his head on Sam's shoulder with a drawn out moan. Each clumsy movement pulls another out of him.
The heat radiating from their bodies proves to be too much. Or maybe they are just looking for an excuse to lose their clothes. Either way, they both stumble onto Sam's bed, peeling off everything in the process. Sam hums contently as his best friend sucks a purple hickey on his collarbones. His other hand explores his torso, feeling over every muscle. Sam grasps Seb back, the feeling of his soft skin and sharp hip bones reassure him this is real.
A loud moan escapes him as Seb takes both of them in hand. Stars cloud his vision, the feel of their skin rubbing together unlike anything he could ever imagine. It's electrifying and terrifying and overwhelming all at once. Seb has a similar reaction, hair hanging down covering his face, eyes dark and mouth open in a silent cry of ecstasy. Sam can't help but admire the rise and fall of his chest.
"Seb, fuck," the words spill out of him before he can think about it. "Feels so good. Agh."
"Yeah?" He's never been a man of many words, but the hint of pride in his eye is enough to reveal what he's thinking. "Want me to make you feel even better?"
Sam nods his head furiously.
"Beg."
His brain short-circuits but his mouth doesn't miss a beat. "Please." It sounds so natural coming from his lips. Seb seems to be enjoying it too, based on the way his cock twitches at the word. Maybe he's finally found something he's good at.
"Good boy, Sam." Sebastian tests the words, carefully examining his friends expressions. He doesn't really need to because Sam actually fucking moans. Pupils dilated and cheeks flushed. Fucking high off arousal. The sight makes Seb's heart clench in adoration.
"Please, Seb, don't tease." His cock is poking out lewdly, hard and leaking and leaving a trail of precum on their stomachs. There's an edge to his voice, like he might just break if he doesn't get more soon. Touch starved and desperate. But Seb likes hearing him moan. Likes the little gasps that come when he rubs their cocks together, the way his voice is getting more high-pitched, how he's promising to do anything.
Tsk. Impatient.
Still, Seb's not that cruel.
With a kiss to his lips, he sinks down the bed until he's face to face with Sam's cock. Sam's squirming already, the anticipation building up. He can't help but lift his head to get a glimpse of his best friend, and God, that doesn't help that pooling feeling in his lower stomach. Their eyes catch as Sebastian sticks his tongue out and places it firmly against the bottom of Sam's cock. It's warm and wet and has him trembling already. Sam moans as he feels Seb's piercing on his hardness. He's twirling his tongue and oh he's never looked more beautiful. The way his hair is messy and tussled, eyes looking up at him with way-more-than-friendship, his pink swollen lips that feel better than anything he could have imagined.
The blond gasps as Seb takes more of him into his mouth, first bobbing up and down until he's hitting the back of his throat. Little struggled gags are coming from him and it's hotter than it has any right to. Sam's hands are twitching under him and Sebastian gently guides them to his hair. He can read him so well. It's soft and tangled and his. Getting a bit more confidence he tightens his grip and lets Seb lead, following his movements with his hands. "Seb, Sebby, feels too good."
He only hums in response, the vibrations sending a shiver up Sam's spine. When he comes up for air, his lips are glistening with saliva and he looks intoxicated. "Sam, need you." He's back to kissing him like he's the air he needs to breathe. Their tongues meet and Sam can taste himself. As Seb grinds against him, he can feel his hardness leaking against his stomach.
Adrenaline has kept his anxiety at bay so far, but as the thought of sex returns he can feel it coming back. Seeping through the static that's clouded his brain like poison. It's not that he doesn't want to, he's literally dreamed of this, it's just that he doesn't know what to do. The people pleaser in him is crawling out. What if he disappoints Seb? What if he can't take him? What if Seb didn't want him to bottom? What if he didn't like him and this was all just a big misunderstanding. What if—?
"Sam." Sebastian towers over him, eyes looking him over.
Act cool act cool act cool. "Hmm?"
He intertwines their fingers so they're holding hands, Seb pinning him down. It calms his nerves, somewhat. It has the opposite effect on his downstairs. "Are you okay? We can stop."
He responds almost too quickly. "No! I— I want this, I just don't know..." He trails off, facing away from him.
Seb places a kiss on the corner of his lips, and a hand on his thigh. "It's okay," he admits with a shy smile. "Me neither."
He's never looked so beautiful as when he's vulnerable.
For all his sharpness, Seb's incredibly soft. There's so much about him that works like that. Sharp collarbones covered in the silkiest skin, angular face painted with the warmest expression, quiet confidence with hints of nervousness that flicker in his voice.
Sam thinks of this as his raven-haired friend is planting tender kisses down his chest. Hands trailing freckles like he's trying to memorise them. And Sam's trying real hard to memorise things too, from the way Seb's lips feel to how his hair tickles his skin. It's never been his forte, but he has a feeling he'll remember this for a long time.
When Seb comes back up, he's still holding Sam's hand, pinning him against the bed and rolling his hips into him. "So," he says, voice rough. "Did you ever... Y'know, think about me when you were using it?"
Every time.
Sam shifts under him. "Seeeeeb." He wants to hide behind his hands again, but Seb is firmly pressing him down.
"C'mon Sammy, tell me."
He turns his head to look at the wall. "M-maybe." He's thrusting his hips up desperately, trying to get more of the friction as Seb sucks dark hickeys and whispers in his ear. "What'd you think about? Me pinning you down, pushing inside you, filling you up..."
Sam's face is a deep shade of pink. His body is on fire. "Yes. That. All of it."
Seb leans over to the drawer where Sam put away the toy, and returns with a bottle of lube. Sam's cheeks tingle with embarrassment. Of course he guessed that's where Sam keeps it.
He hisses as the cold gel touches his skin, and then at the stinging feeling as Seb's finger pushes inside him. "Seb," he moans. The other replies by kissing him gently, moving inside him while grabbing his length. Trying to get Sam to focus on the pleasure.
"You're taking me so well," Seb whispers, adding another finger and slipping it on and out. Sam is meeting his motions now, stretching himself out on black-nail polish painted fingers.
Now three of his fingers are buried in Sam and the latter has melted in his arms. He's a whimpering mess, burying his face in the pillow and grabbing the sheets as he thrusts his hips off the bed — face scrunched and back arching.
"Seb, now."
"So needy," Seb mutters, but he withdraws his fingers anyways. Sam's hips fall back onto the mattress with a yearning moan. The dark-haired man spreads the lube on his cock, staring at the way Sam's playing with himself and rocking his hips as he waits. He meets his eyes as he lines himself up and leans down to kiss him. He swallows a moan as he pushes himself in, sitting straight to watch himself move in and out of him in amazement. "Sammy, you feel so good. You look so good."
And he does. He looks like an angel with his blond hair spread out on the pillow around him. Blue-green eyes squished shut and eyebrows furrowed. Crooked white teeth biting his lower lip to muffle the moans threatening to come out of him. When he opens his eyes, he looks like a cock-starved whore, staring lewdly at him through thick eyelashes. Sam's eyes are always filled with worries, he's an over-thinker, but right now they just look pleading and dumb. Like all he wants to do is please Seb.
The realization sends a thrill down his spine. "Is this how you imagined it?" He says, bringing a hand up to Sam's neck and applying a little pressure.
"Yes," he gasps.
"C'mon Sammy, tell me the details. Let me make it all be real for you."
"In my fantasies you, ah— you're a little rough."
Seb squeezes a little. "Like this?"
Sam thinks he's going to pass out from how turned on he is. Can someone die of being too horny? He's about to find out because he continues.
"Y-yeah, and you... You're a little mean to me. Like possessive and—" Seb fucks into him faster, so hard Sam shifts up the bed with a moan. "God, yes, and you- you make the whole world disappear."
"You want me to fuck you til you can't think? Cum inside you and make you mine?" Seb tests. He wants to give Sam everything. To give him a break from his mind.
Sam's eyes widen and he nods furiously. He sticks his tongue out, piercing in full display as he stares up at Seb. Trying his best to look like a good boy for him, how he knows he likes it.
He whines as Seb hits a particularly sensitive spot and his hand moves from his neck to caress his cheek. He can barely believe this is real. He feels so full. The stretch feels so perfect. Like Seb's made especially for him, and honestly, he might be because there's no one in the world that understands him so well. Even the way their bodies move against each other feels natural. And Seb looks so good, dark lust-filled eyes looking down at him with a smile that makes him feel like maybe he's not a total fuck up.
The wet sound of saliva, moans and skin on skin fills the air. Sam's cock is achingly hard, his only friction being the way Seb's stomach rubs against it as he thrusts inside. He wants to touch it but he doesn't want this to end too quickly. The messy room is long gone from his memory. Right now, his senses are overwhelmed by Seb, his scent, his soft skin, his gravelly voice telling him how good he feels.
"I don't think I can last much longer," he warns, but Seb shuts him up with a kiss. His only focus is making the raven-haired man feel good, to behave for him, to thank him.
"Cum for me," Seb moans against his mouth and grabs his length, stroking and quickly matching his pace. It's almost too much, and Sam can't help the string of noises leaving his lips. He comes undone like that, cumming with a shudder over both their stomachs, slack-jawed and eyes squeezed shut. Sebastian responds to the tightening around him, jerking his hips into the blond as he fucks him through his orgasm. "Sam, gonna—"
"Please, fill me up." Sam's dazed and limp under him, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through his overstimulated body. Yet he needs this more than he's ever needed anything before. It doesn't take long for Seb to cum inside him, the words alone almost enough to send him over the edge. He rides out his orgasm, gripping Sam's hips and holding him in place as he fills him up. Savouring each moan and whimper coming from him. Never once letting their eyes part.
Sam looks up at him like he's a God, like he personally made the universe and hung up the stars. It's all he can do to smile tenderly at him as he pulls out.
Sam takes a moment to catch his breath and stares at his best friend of many years, someone so familiar he knows him better than himself, now completely different in a new light. He braces himself for the guilt that usually follows after he thinks of Seb to get off, but it never comes. So he allows himself a moment to notice the details. The rise and fall of his chest, the flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes close and his lips curl.
"You make my head go quiet," he says softly, closing his eyes. The drowsiness is taking over, and he's always been an over sharer anyways. Wears his heart on his sleeve, his mum used to say.
Sebastian lays down next to him and Sam curls into his side, taking in his scent. "You're so cute." It's the best he can say. Because he's not good with words, and how can he tell this man that he's hopelessly in love. He hugs him closer, hoping that sends the message across.
"Seb, m'room," Sam protests, but he makes no effort to move. Too comfy. Too perfect.
"Shh. It can wait til later."
Yeah, maybe it can.