Fangs - (True Blood, Sam/Bill, dream)
Sam answered the door with a towel draped around his shoulders and his hair dripping down his back to darken the fabric of his jeans.
If Bill had still needed to breathe, his breath would have caught in his throat. As it was, he breathed deeply, scenting the air. His eyes glazed slightly as he got his first hint of Sam’s true scent - not covered by alcohol, or the patrons of his bar, or even the faint flowers-and-sunshine scent that was Sookie’s own, personal, calling card.
Sam leaned against the doorframe, smirking at him, sleekly muscled arms crossed over his bare chest, doing nothing more than drawing Bill’s hungry gaze down that expanse of tanned skin.
“Would you like to come in?” Sam asked, “Or would you prefer to stand outside and . . . window-shop?” he added archly, shifting his hips and standing away from the wall.
Bill refocused immediately, but he found himself, if not exactly speechless, then at least unsure of what to say. He met Sam’s luring green eyes silently.
Sam grinned. “Because I won’t stand here and be drooled over forever…” Sam trailed off teasingly.
Bill started moving again, suddenly. He flashed forward, stopping, perfectly motionless in an instant, just on the other side of the door from Sam.
“You already have my invitation - you are most welcome in my house, William Compton.” Sam murmured, his voice deeper than usual - it almost held a touch of the animal to it.
Bill rumbled contentedly, deep in his throat, and stepped through the door. Sam didn’t back away, but allowed Bill’s step to bring them a hairsbreadth from touching. Bill’s eyes slid closed in appreciation of the warmth radiating from Sam.
They snapped open again, accompanied by the miniscule click of his fangs descending - though it sounded almost deafening to Bill - when a hot hand wrapped around his waist, slipping under his untucked shirt, and traced a line of sparking sensation to his spine.
Bill looked down, trying to hide the fangs he hadn’t meant to show, but Sam just laughed, throatily, and pulled Bill closer, inside. He shut the door with a flick of his free hand and then pushed Bill up against it.
“I am not afraid of your fangs, Bill…” Sam murmured, leaning close, the hand that had been at his back now pressed firmly against his belly. If Bill had needed to breathe, Sam’s weight against him there would have been most uncomfortable - as it was, it made him want to purr.
Bill panted, eyes at half-mast, wrapping one of his own hands around Sam’s wrist. Sam laughed, leaning just that little bit closer, and, before Bill could divine his intentions, he covered Bill’s mouth with his own.
Bill closed his eyes, moaning into the kiss, somehow both content and burning for more than a simple kiss, no matter how pleasurable.
Sam laughed into his mouth, and then he wrapped his tongue around one razor sharp fang, nicking himself on it slightly, and sucked.
Bill’s head hit the inside of the door at the amazing sensation he hadn’t known was possible, and Sam grinned, pulling away, dropping a light kiss on Bill’s jaw line, and then diving back to do the same to the other fang. He sucked even harder this time, and Bill groaned, uncomfortably close to coming in his jeans - Lord, he hadn’t even taken his shirt off.
Bill shuddered - he almost slammed his head into the underside of the floorboards above him before he remembered where he was, crossing his arms protectively before his face.