Being with Sam like this was like nothing G had ever thought was meant for him. It was something they wrote books and movies about because that was all it was -- a fantasy no one could really find. Even if he left what he'd had to do for the job out of the picture, sex had been...fast. Fast and dirty and something he did just because his body needed it every now and then. The two times he'd wanted more, he couldn't risk having it and break cover unless it was a calculated lie, which was as good as never having it. But, what was happening between G and Sam, it was almost a natural extension of who they were together as partners -- the banter, the concern, the playful struggle for power between two alpha males who could fight for dominance between themselves and yet would rip to shreds anyone from the outside who tried to dominate one or the other.
They were just adding an extra layer of lust and desire over all of that, a new facet to their partnership.
Sam's lips, so gentle, on his scars, caused something warm and heavy to settle in G's chest and he raised his hand to cup Sam's jaw. "I'm not the only one who gets shot at. I've done my share of sitting in a car and silently praying to Gods I don't believe are there." He knew it was more often Sam in the car and G alone with just himself and his SIG in a warehouse full of arms dealers or terrorists. But, he got to be the one worrying about Sam and Sam should know that he did. Smirking softly, he pressed a brief kiss to his partner's lips. "I burned the fishnet."
"I'm saying exactly that," he said, shocked to find his face burning with embarrassment at the thought. G had never cared about what people did to or saw of his body. It was a tool and a weapon as much as his gun or his words. Yet, the idea of letting anyone else see the evidence of Sam's claim on him was disturbing. This was something just for them. Still, he couldn't help teasing, "You need to be reminded of what you want to do to me already? Tsk."
It was difficult to keep his mind on any of that, however, when his focus was being pulled to what Sam was doing to his body. Prep was something that had often gone by the wayside in his past. It defeated the purpose of a quick, meaningless fuck, if you stopped to really prep for it. And after he'd gotten out of his experimental boyhood, G had only bottomed when he had to for the job. So, he was prepared for that first uncomfortable burn before his body could adjust. Only Sam was teasing, gentle...slow, despite the coiling tension he could feel in the muscles beneath his hands which were still moving over Sam's arms, his shoulders, chest. Rather than stinging pain, there were light touches and slow, steady pressure that stretched him, while making him want even more. By the time Sam was talking about G with other people and kissing him as though he'd feed G that determination with his own mouth, G was moaning softly against Sam's lips, hips canting against Sam's hand. He could feel that possessiveness rising in his partner again and it was as intensely arousing now as it had been before dinner.
Chest heaving with his attempt to get enough control over himself to speak, G pulled away from the kiss. "Just you." He was drawn back to kiss Sam again for a moment. "Yours," he whispered.