Summer Story part 9
5/19/05 05:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roxySo, as you all know, I'm all about the happy endings, yes? And Summer Story, though it has a bit more to go (not too much more!) is all about the happy endings-like Whit and Sam--I told you they'd be happy, ah? And no--Whit's not going anywhere-- killing him off in a foreign country (probably Latveria, downtown Doomstadt, no doubt) was a stupid choice on their part. If they'd remembered that Clark and Lana were never meant to be--they could have kept Whit and done more with him. Pete wasn't the only guy screwed on SV, the line forms behind Adam.
Previous Parts are here, looking up 'rope' and 'Japanese' on the internet.
Clark and Lex leaned on the other side of the closed door, eyes wide and sporting identical blushes.
“Geez…Do you feel like some kind of pervert eaves dropper?” Clark asked. He reached up a hand to wipe at his mouth and his fingers trembled a little. He shoved his hands quickly into his pocket to cover the fact.
Lex nodded, mouth open and dry, “Worse,” he husked, his throat gone dry even… “What, what should we…screw it, lets just get the hell out of here.”
“Umm--right home?” Clark asked and his voice rose into a squeak. “Home? The house?”
“God no! The barn!” Lex looked at him like he’d gone insane, “and fast as you can or else.”
Clark groaned. “I don’t now if I can pick you up without… you know--” and he cupped himself protectively.
Lex rolled his eyes. “Take me home, idiot.” He said fondly.
******
“Nice motel,” Sam said and pushed the door shut. He looked around the room and felt a little awed by how completely bland and featureless it was.
“You think so?” Whit asked and sat on the edge of the bed. He stroked the brown blanket slowly and looked around the room with a critical eye. Brown and red floral curtains were at the window, dark and heavy enough to block out the late afternoon sun completely. The pale beige walls were unadorned, no pictures, no hangings, the red and brown curtains matched the brown carpeting and blanket.
Concern for a Sam’s taste was evident in the look he turned toward him.
Sam repeated, “It’s nice,” in a voice that was nearly as bland as the room.
Whit grinned and Sam could feel his cheeks flush. He scowled a little and said, “It’s…well, I’m not going to say it’s nice again. So…been here before?”
Whit kept grinning.
“I mean, it’s ni—fuck it. Is this where you and that marine guy come? Came? Sleep?—fuck—you know what I mean!” Sam threw himself in the desk chair and it skidded backwards and fetched against the desk with the force.
Whit lifted an eyebrow, “Hey—chill. What, are you trying to tell me you’re jealous?”
“Hell no!” Sam frowned. “No--yes—I am. Why did you pick this place?”
Whit sighed. “Because it’s close, it’s clean and there’s a great diner not too far down the road. And I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, we were never in this room.”
“Oh thanks a fucking lot and no—it doesn’t make me feel better.” He pouted a moment before looking at Whit again. “Hey, sorry, don’t pay attention to me—It’s just—I never really thought about him—you—it-- before…and this kind of…makes it real, y’know?”
Whit nodded, “Um-hmm, I get it for sure--it’s okay. And I forgive you.” Sam snorted and Whit lay back on the bed and laughed. “Sam—we’ve been together for all of an hour, can we save the fights for later, I really want to have you over here with me, on the bed…”
Sam grinned back. “Right. We’ll argue later.”
He lay down next to Whit and just looked at him. Amazed that this man wanted him--had wanted him for so long. He shivered a little—it was finally, finally his time—he was here next to the one he’d wanted to be next to for…forever, it felt like….
Whit closed his eyes and Sam kissed him, thought that he’d never get tired of kissing him, never—until the moment when Whit’s hand skimmed over his crotch.
“If we take our clothes off, we can have this feeling all over,” he said as he slid his palm over Sam’s tight stomach. “Relax, you’re so tense, so stiff…”
Sam laughed. “Oh, you have no idea,” and shuddered as Whit cupped him, and whispered against his neck, “Oh, I think I do.”
They helped each other to undress, turning a moment’s work into long minutes of laughing, stumbling around each other, getting to know each other in a new way.
Sam lay on his back, his arms stretched towards the head of the bed, his toes pointed towards the foot, and Whit lay full length on top of him. Every inch of skin touched, every movement brought a new part of them into contact, and their chests expanded against each other with each breath they took, and together felt each beat of their hearts. Whit pressed down, and Sam groaned as the movement brought his dick against Whit’s and sent a charge through him. When Whit moved again, he found himself throwing his legs around him, pulling him in tight and close against himself, smiled when he moaned softly. They fell into rhythm, roll, push, grind, dick sliding and catching against dick and fueling the electricity that buzzed right under his skin. Sweat began to ease the glide somewhat, pre-come helping to smooth the way, faster, harder.
Sam was panting now and Whit smiled down at him. His hair fell around his face, and made a curtain through which his eyes, glazed and pupils wide, peered at him, his cheeks and neck were flushed dark pink, his mouth was wet and red and his tongue glided out and around his lips and Sam hissed.
“Oh God, don’t—don’t look like at me like that, you’ll make me come!” Sam panted harder and closed his eyes, desperately trying to control his body.
Whit chuckled and thrust down, the rough pull of hair and skin against his sensitive flesh made him gasp and shiver, not yet, not yet! --at the same time the damp heat between them made him want more…more everything—he pushed and rocked and the iron hardness of his dick slid along the groove of Sam’s hip, slid and caught against him—god! More!
“Whit, Whit—just touching you--oh God…” Sam held them tight, locked their legs together, dug his fingers into Whit’s hips with bruising force, hard enough to wring a strangled cry from him--and thrust harder and harder against Whit, their breath echoing harshly in the room-- that and the slap of flesh against flesh the only sounds, until Sam began a low moaning that built more and more the harder he rocked up, louder and louder until he arched from the bed, yelled out “Whit—oh fuck!” and came, spurting hot and hard against Whit’s trembling stomach.
******
Whit stared –stared and tried to memorize every moment that made him even hotter than he was, The sounds Sam made went straight to his dick, the feel of his hair brushing and tangling against his teased and thrilled him, that dick was so hard against his it almost hurt and God--how beautiful he was, all that golden brown skin next to his own, brown hands wrapped around his, moving down his arms, rubbing over his ribs and then pressing, grabbing, digging into him, he angled his head back to see Sam’s fingers holding his ass so hard the skin was white where he dug his fingers in and the sight was so hot it made him yell…it was wonderful, it was amazing, the beautiful contrast—he looked down to catch sight of the deep purple head gliding against the dusky rose of his own weeping dick. Beautiful….
Suddenly Sam arched off the bed and Whit felt him pulse against his belly, he was caught up in the sight of Sam coming, the look on his face—eyes wide and astonished and mouth open on a shout, “Whit—oh—fuck!”
Whit dropped his head and ground against Sam, and came as the wet flood of heat between them brought him to the edge, and he rode out the intense body-racking orgasm with his mouth locked on Sam’s shoulder, sliding as he added to the wet. He shook and shook and heard Sam moaning, “God—I love you, I love you so much…”
I love you more than life, you’re everything to me it’s been so long that you’ve been everything to me
******
Whit sat up and he was all alone in the dark.How did that happen? Where’s Sam…shit! I’m home. I was dreaming the whole thing, damn it! . He felt equal parts anger and sorrow, it had to be a damn dream.
He heard a click and in the dark corner of his bedroom where his desk sat he saw a little flare of light and a smell of burning tobacco.
“Oh, it’s you.” Of course it was, who else…and what a strange dream he’d had about him….
“Hey. How you doing, kid?” The lazy drawl slipped around him and made home feel warm—and a little…weird, almost sick, but not.
“I’m good. You?”
“Can’t complain. Nothing hurts, I feel…okay.” The shadow stood and moved forward so that light from the blinds stripped him. Bits of him were revealed and bits where in shadow and Whit laughed. Just like always.
“Good.” Whit shifted and sat up on the bed. He felt a brief flash of surprise that he was dressed but let it go, it wasn’t important.
“I missed you,” spoken on an exhale and smoke wreathed around Whit’s face.
“You’re not really here, you’re dead.” He said it with no surprise, and realized he was in a dream *now*, and suddenly the shadow was Wade.
He nodded. “Yes. Are you happy yet?” He came over and sat on the bed next to Whit, it creaked and sank under both their weights, Wade stroked a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to tell you this, keep this part of you wrapped up tight. If you don’t let it rule, you’ll be fine.”
Whit looked at Wade, puzzled by his words. “What part?”
Wade stood and grinned. “All of our parts. You know…you know what I mean.”
Whit started to get irritated. “You come to visit and waste our time with puzzles.”
Wade started to walk away, he waved and smiled as he went and the bedroom turned into a long dark tunnel, a subway tunnel, dark and dirty, and a cold wind blew up from the tracks. Whit shouted, “Wait! Tell me something else!”
“I can tell you this,” he said and they were standing on the steps of an enormous gothic looking building, huge wooden doors loomed behind Wade’s head and Whit began to be frightened. Wade reached out and took his hand, “--no matter what I did, I did love you.”
Whit cried, his tears felt so hot on his cheek and a tiny part of him wondered if he was really crying; he asked him if this was just wish fulfillment and Wade kissed his forehead.
“I gotta go—see you ‘round.”
Behind him the doors opened, flooding everything with blinding white light and Whit closed his eyes in fear, and woke with a gasp. His heart was pounding…
“Go…Damn!” That was fuckin’ eerie! He shook briefly and shoved the blankets off. That was too fuckin weird…Wade—shit that was weird. He made his way to the dingy beige bathroom and leaned his hand against the wall as he relieved himself and tried to get the dream out of his mind. It gave him the creeps, but in thinking about it, he realized it was damn good advice and he got what his brain was trying to tell him.
No more Wades.
If he wanted him and Sam to work, he’d have to make sure he was doing the right thing. He’d have to make sure he didn’t fuck Sam up.
And he was going to go with the thought that Wade had loved him. He may have been a fucked up piece of shit, staying with him would have killed him eventually but still, a tiny part of himself relaxed a bit with the thought that Wade had loved him. And that’s why he didn’t trust himself, Whit thought. There’s a piece of me that’s broken, I *need* to fix that.
He would talk to talk to Sam--Sam would get it, he knew. Sam would help him to take care of it.
He walked back across the room and got into the creaky bed carefully as he could, trying not to wake him. When he lay down, Sam made a little sound and wrapped his arms around Whit; he burrowed into him and sighed before dropping back into deeper sleep.
Fuck—Whit fought not to let loose the tears that wanted to spill out. This was it—this was really it. Happiness. It came kind of came sneaking in on little cat’s feet like the fog or whatever…quiet and simple and it filled him right up.
He lay in the dark wrapped up in the feel of Sam, the smell of him, the warmth of him and really finally got it. This is happy.
Previous Parts are here, looking up 'rope' and 'Japanese' on the internet.
Clark and Lex leaned on the other side of the closed door, eyes wide and sporting identical blushes.
“Geez…Do you feel like some kind of pervert eaves dropper?” Clark asked. He reached up a hand to wipe at his mouth and his fingers trembled a little. He shoved his hands quickly into his pocket to cover the fact.
Lex nodded, mouth open and dry, “Worse,” he husked, his throat gone dry even… “What, what should we…screw it, lets just get the hell out of here.”
“Umm--right home?” Clark asked and his voice rose into a squeak. “Home? The house?”
“God no! The barn!” Lex looked at him like he’d gone insane, “and fast as you can or else.”
Clark groaned. “I don’t now if I can pick you up without… you know--” and he cupped himself protectively.
Lex rolled his eyes. “Take me home, idiot.” He said fondly.
******
“Nice motel,” Sam said and pushed the door shut. He looked around the room and felt a little awed by how completely bland and featureless it was.
“You think so?” Whit asked and sat on the edge of the bed. He stroked the brown blanket slowly and looked around the room with a critical eye. Brown and red floral curtains were at the window, dark and heavy enough to block out the late afternoon sun completely. The pale beige walls were unadorned, no pictures, no hangings, the red and brown curtains matched the brown carpeting and blanket.
Concern for a Sam’s taste was evident in the look he turned toward him.
Sam repeated, “It’s nice,” in a voice that was nearly as bland as the room.
Whit grinned and Sam could feel his cheeks flush. He scowled a little and said, “It’s…well, I’m not going to say it’s nice again. So…been here before?”
Whit kept grinning.
“I mean, it’s ni—fuck it. Is this where you and that marine guy come? Came? Sleep?—fuck—you know what I mean!” Sam threw himself in the desk chair and it skidded backwards and fetched against the desk with the force.
Whit lifted an eyebrow, “Hey—chill. What, are you trying to tell me you’re jealous?”
“Hell no!” Sam frowned. “No--yes—I am. Why did you pick this place?”
Whit sighed. “Because it’s close, it’s clean and there’s a great diner not too far down the road. And I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry. If it makes you feel better, we were never in this room.”
“Oh thanks a fucking lot and no—it doesn’t make me feel better.” He pouted a moment before looking at Whit again. “Hey, sorry, don’t pay attention to me—It’s just—I never really thought about him—you—it-- before…and this kind of…makes it real, y’know?”
Whit nodded, “Um-hmm, I get it for sure--it’s okay. And I forgive you.” Sam snorted and Whit lay back on the bed and laughed. “Sam—we’ve been together for all of an hour, can we save the fights for later, I really want to have you over here with me, on the bed…”
Sam grinned back. “Right. We’ll argue later.”
He lay down next to Whit and just looked at him. Amazed that this man wanted him--had wanted him for so long. He shivered a little—it was finally, finally his time—he was here next to the one he’d wanted to be next to for…forever, it felt like….
Whit closed his eyes and Sam kissed him, thought that he’d never get tired of kissing him, never—until the moment when Whit’s hand skimmed over his crotch.
“If we take our clothes off, we can have this feeling all over,” he said as he slid his palm over Sam’s tight stomach. “Relax, you’re so tense, so stiff…”
Sam laughed. “Oh, you have no idea,” and shuddered as Whit cupped him, and whispered against his neck, “Oh, I think I do.”
They helped each other to undress, turning a moment’s work into long minutes of laughing, stumbling around each other, getting to know each other in a new way.
Sam lay on his back, his arms stretched towards the head of the bed, his toes pointed towards the foot, and Whit lay full length on top of him. Every inch of skin touched, every movement brought a new part of them into contact, and their chests expanded against each other with each breath they took, and together felt each beat of their hearts. Whit pressed down, and Sam groaned as the movement brought his dick against Whit’s and sent a charge through him. When Whit moved again, he found himself throwing his legs around him, pulling him in tight and close against himself, smiled when he moaned softly. They fell into rhythm, roll, push, grind, dick sliding and catching against dick and fueling the electricity that buzzed right under his skin. Sweat began to ease the glide somewhat, pre-come helping to smooth the way, faster, harder.
Sam was panting now and Whit smiled down at him. His hair fell around his face, and made a curtain through which his eyes, glazed and pupils wide, peered at him, his cheeks and neck were flushed dark pink, his mouth was wet and red and his tongue glided out and around his lips and Sam hissed.
“Oh God, don’t—don’t look like at me like that, you’ll make me come!” Sam panted harder and closed his eyes, desperately trying to control his body.
Whit chuckled and thrust down, the rough pull of hair and skin against his sensitive flesh made him gasp and shiver, not yet, not yet! --at the same time the damp heat between them made him want more…more everything—he pushed and rocked and the iron hardness of his dick slid along the groove of Sam’s hip, slid and caught against him—god! More!
“Whit, Whit—just touching you--oh God…” Sam held them tight, locked their legs together, dug his fingers into Whit’s hips with bruising force, hard enough to wring a strangled cry from him--and thrust harder and harder against Whit, their breath echoing harshly in the room-- that and the slap of flesh against flesh the only sounds, until Sam began a low moaning that built more and more the harder he rocked up, louder and louder until he arched from the bed, yelled out “Whit—oh fuck!” and came, spurting hot and hard against Whit’s trembling stomach.
******
Whit stared –stared and tried to memorize every moment that made him even hotter than he was, The sounds Sam made went straight to his dick, the feel of his hair brushing and tangling against his teased and thrilled him, that dick was so hard against his it almost hurt and God--how beautiful he was, all that golden brown skin next to his own, brown hands wrapped around his, moving down his arms, rubbing over his ribs and then pressing, grabbing, digging into him, he angled his head back to see Sam’s fingers holding his ass so hard the skin was white where he dug his fingers in and the sight was so hot it made him yell…it was wonderful, it was amazing, the beautiful contrast—he looked down to catch sight of the deep purple head gliding against the dusky rose of his own weeping dick. Beautiful….
Suddenly Sam arched off the bed and Whit felt him pulse against his belly, he was caught up in the sight of Sam coming, the look on his face—eyes wide and astonished and mouth open on a shout, “Whit—oh—fuck!”
Whit dropped his head and ground against Sam, and came as the wet flood of heat between them brought him to the edge, and he rode out the intense body-racking orgasm with his mouth locked on Sam’s shoulder, sliding as he added to the wet. He shook and shook and heard Sam moaning, “God—I love you, I love you so much…”
I love you more than life, you’re everything to me it’s been so long that you’ve been everything to me
******
Whit sat up and he was all alone in the dark.How did that happen? Where’s Sam…shit! I’m home. I was dreaming the whole thing, damn it! . He felt equal parts anger and sorrow, it had to be a damn dream.
He heard a click and in the dark corner of his bedroom where his desk sat he saw a little flare of light and a smell of burning tobacco.
“Oh, it’s you.” Of course it was, who else…and what a strange dream he’d had about him….
“Hey. How you doing, kid?” The lazy drawl slipped around him and made home feel warm—and a little…weird, almost sick, but not.
“I’m good. You?”
“Can’t complain. Nothing hurts, I feel…okay.” The shadow stood and moved forward so that light from the blinds stripped him. Bits of him were revealed and bits where in shadow and Whit laughed. Just like always.
“Good.” Whit shifted and sat up on the bed. He felt a brief flash of surprise that he was dressed but let it go, it wasn’t important.
“I missed you,” spoken on an exhale and smoke wreathed around Whit’s face.
“You’re not really here, you’re dead.” He said it with no surprise, and realized he was in a dream *now*, and suddenly the shadow was Wade.
He nodded. “Yes. Are you happy yet?” He came over and sat on the bed next to Whit, it creaked and sank under both their weights, Wade stroked a hand through his hair. “I just wanted to tell you this, keep this part of you wrapped up tight. If you don’t let it rule, you’ll be fine.”
Whit looked at Wade, puzzled by his words. “What part?”
Wade stood and grinned. “All of our parts. You know…you know what I mean.”
Whit started to get irritated. “You come to visit and waste our time with puzzles.”
Wade started to walk away, he waved and smiled as he went and the bedroom turned into a long dark tunnel, a subway tunnel, dark and dirty, and a cold wind blew up from the tracks. Whit shouted, “Wait! Tell me something else!”
“I can tell you this,” he said and they were standing on the steps of an enormous gothic looking building, huge wooden doors loomed behind Wade’s head and Whit began to be frightened. Wade reached out and took his hand, “--no matter what I did, I did love you.”
Whit cried, his tears felt so hot on his cheek and a tiny part of him wondered if he was really crying; he asked him if this was just wish fulfillment and Wade kissed his forehead.
“I gotta go—see you ‘round.”
Behind him the doors opened, flooding everything with blinding white light and Whit closed his eyes in fear, and woke with a gasp. His heart was pounding…
“Go…Damn!” That was fuckin’ eerie! He shook briefly and shoved the blankets off. That was too fuckin weird…Wade—shit that was weird. He made his way to the dingy beige bathroom and leaned his hand against the wall as he relieved himself and tried to get the dream out of his mind. It gave him the creeps, but in thinking about it, he realized it was damn good advice and he got what his brain was trying to tell him.
No more Wades.
If he wanted him and Sam to work, he’d have to make sure he was doing the right thing. He’d have to make sure he didn’t fuck Sam up.
And he was going to go with the thought that Wade had loved him. He may have been a fucked up piece of shit, staying with him would have killed him eventually but still, a tiny part of himself relaxed a bit with the thought that Wade had loved him. And that’s why he didn’t trust himself, Whit thought. There’s a piece of me that’s broken, I *need* to fix that.
He would talk to talk to Sam--Sam would get it, he knew. Sam would help him to take care of it.
He walked back across the room and got into the creaky bed carefully as he could, trying not to wake him. When he lay down, Sam made a little sound and wrapped his arms around Whit; he burrowed into him and sighed before dropping back into deeper sleep.
Fuck—Whit fought not to let loose the tears that wanted to spill out. This was it—this was really it. Happiness. It came kind of came sneaking in on little cat’s feet like the fog or whatever…quiet and simple and it filled him right up.
He lay in the dark wrapped up in the feel of Sam, the smell of him, the warmth of him and really finally got it. This is happy.
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(no subject)
5/20/05 10:46 am (UTC)Great part!
(no subject)
5/20/05 03:50 pm (UTC)