Missing Thomas is an understatement. Lately, Sam has been a shell of the person he used to be. Cutting off Thomas drained his happiness, his spark for life.
Still, he needs to say something, so Sam replies, “I missed you, too.”
Thomas’s cheek burns in his hand. Sam is so grateful for the touch that he feels greedy with it. The confessions embolden him, make him brave enough to ask for something new.
In all of their time together, there was a line they never crossed.
“Can I kiss you?”
Thomas’s breath hitches and his eyes flutter open when he nods.
Sam leans in slowly, in case Thomas changes his mind.
He doesn’t. The smaller driver eagerly stretches up, onto his toes, and closes the gap.
His lips are softer than Sam expected, and much more active. Their mouths are only connected for a moment before Thomas’s tongue runs along the seam, asking for permission.
Who was Sam to deny him anything? He sways with the movement, his hand slipping back, into fluffy hair, as he opens his mouth and explores Thomas’s curious tongue with his own.
He tastes sweet. Nutty, almost, like peanut butter. It’s crazy that, of everywhere Sam’s tongue has been, he never knew what Thomas’s mouth tasted like.
Thomas is vocal, moaning low and sweet as he rocks with the motion of his lips. His tongue dips in shallowly, chasing Sam’s only to pull out and close his lips with a smile.
Sam wants to be gentle, but Thomas continues his frustrating ministrations—keeps teasing him just to retreat. A little bit of tongue, a small rock forward, then darting away again with a smirk.
Sam bites at that infuriating lower lip—pulling it back, reclaiming it—and Thomas melts with a deep groan.
“Oh,Samuel.”
Hands tear at Sam’s arms and shoulders, scrambling for purchase. No more teasing, Thomas dives fully into him, clawing at him, devouring him.
Sam draws Thomas in by the waist as they bite and suck andmoan. Their mouths are hot and wet as they undulate against each other, rolling their hips and urging themselves impossibly closer.
Sam pushes a leg forward and Thomas whines as he thrusts his thickening cock against the hard muscle of his thigh. His mouth drops open and his eyebrows draw up as he humps against Sam’s leg, chasing his high.
It’s so fucking hot.
On a misstep they stumble back, knockingagainst the wall of the entrance of the room. The blow is a surprise, and Sam reluctantly breaks away, gasping. He rests his forehead down, against Thomas’s, and breathes in his warm exhales.
“What would you like?” Thomas’s accent is heavier, slurred. His face is bright red as he gulps in air. “Anything—anything you want, I am yours.”
“I haven’t eaten yet.”
“Quoi?” Thomas’s eyelashes flutter for a moment before his eyes focus on him.
“Wanna get dinner with me?”
“Rightnow?” Thomas thrusts forward, drilling his hard cock against Sam’s hip. “I thought we were going to fuck!”
Sam’s raw lips pull up into a smile. “Yeah, that’d be great. I’d like to eat dinner with you first, though. If that’s okay?”
They’ve never eaten together. Ever.
They should fix that.
Thomas studies him before letting out a frustrated grunt. “Fine. But I want room service! I am not leaving this hotel and waiting for a table.”
Sam’s smile grows. “Room service works.”
