Saturday: No Longer Obtuse Who: Torin and Sam Where: Johnson's Beach, then Torin's poolhouse When: evening Warnings: NSFW ; incomplete
Torin was mostly disconnected from the wild revel already in progress. He'd been hanging out with Chrissy and a couple of her vapid, ding-a-ling friends for a while, then he'd moved along to a handful of elementals he knew slightly. Now he was by himself, about one beer away from having a buzz on, earbuds in his ears that were connected to the iPod Nano he had clipped to his jeans pocket. He was dressed down by his standards in jeans and a black tank top, but he hadn't been in the mood to hunt for a better ensemble, so here he was. His wild hair was tossed around by the breeze as he wandered along, completely distracted by his own thoughts.
Sam wasn't far away, talking to a couple of girls two years his junior after having convinced them to do a short interview each for his new project. He was taking it easy tonight, not as drunk or hyper as he had been the night before and the chit chat was nice. It was still early, after all. He got up from where he'd knelt with the girls, ready to move on and find a new subject when he spotted Torin. Perfect! Waving at the other boy, Sam made his way over, his small camcorder turned off and dangling from his hand.
Torin's eyes caught Sam's wave, and he smirked and yanked the earbuds from his ears, leaving them to dangle around his neck. He turned off the MP3 player and ambled to meet Sam, giving him an arched-eyebrowed look as he did. "Thanks for the eighteen texts last night," he said, very mild sarcasm coating his tone. "That was super-awesome." It might or might not have been eighteen, specifically, but there'd been several. All urging him to come over to Dax's, which would've completely killed any social standing he ever dreamed of having forever.
Sam laughed, not ashamed in the least as he rarely was. "And you didn't come," he complained instead and wrapped one arm around Torin's shoulders in a quick and probably unexpected hug. "What were you doing that was so awesome that you wouldn't come to at least see an orgy?" Not that there had been one, but the promise of one should have been enough, Sam thought. Maybe it was the camera, Torin never seemed to appreciate having a camera around so maybe it was a scandal thing. Wuss.
"Anything'd be more awesome than watching anything that involves Dax," Torin said, his nose wrinkling. He considered that guy the epitome of loser, and there wasn't much that could've incited him to go to his house. No, wait, that was trailer. He poked Sam a little with his elbow, not inclined to get all huggy in public. Somehow, there was a strange sort of affection in the poke, though. Despite him telling himself he should, there was pretty much no way for him to not like Sam. "I figure you taped it all anyway, so I could just watch it on YouTube."
"Youtube? No way," Sam said, furrowing his brows and shaking his head. "Sextube! Youtube would take that stuff down in a heartbeat." He smiled again, arching one eyebrow at Torin. "I didn't take you for a voyeur, Torin. You seem a lot more hands on, what happened? And don't feed me that line about Dax, everyone knows Dax is hot." Crazy, maybe, but hot for sure.
"Whatever." Torin was getting a bit impatient with Sam's manicness. "When there's something worth getting hands on with, I get hands on." Like Jordan Delaney the other day. That? Had been blow-all-the-doors off, super hot. Personally, he thought Dax was more weird than hot, but that could have been just him. He shrugged off any further conversation about him by ignoring it. "This is a much better party anyway," he said. There were people everywhere and booze everywhere, and there'd be fireworks.
Sam sighed, tapping his camera idly against his thigh. Torin was so surly sometimes, it was a wonder he even talked to Sam but supposedly they'd had a bonding experience. "You wanna give me ten minutes of your time before the fireworks start?" he asked. "I'm doing a new project and you look great so you don't have that excuse for not wanting to be filmed."
"What kind of a project?" Torin asked suspiciously, although the scowly expression he might have shown was softened a bit by being told he looked great. Who wouldn't want to hear that? He shifted from foot to foot, then crossed his arms in front of him. "Look. You know I hate that damn camera. If you make me look like an idiot..." He trailed off, not even knowing what to threaten the guy with. Did he really want to be all over YouTube? He waited to hear what it was Sam was going to try to sell him on.
Sam smiled at the fact he wasn't being shot down immediately, that was progress right there. "I'm doing a video collage. Bucket list stuff, it's like artsy take on anthropology but with a twist, it'll be awesome when it's completed." He kind of suspected what had softened Torin up too so he leaned in and nudged him playfully. "I need more good looking people, or it won't sell."
Torin wasn't sure he got what the hell Sam had just said. An artsy take on anthropology with a twist? What did that even mean? He supposed the only way to find out was to be interviewed. "Well, there's a lot of ugly people in this town, so I guess that means I'll have to do it." He smirked at Sam, suddenly seized by a mood of 'why the hell not?' What else did he have to do right now? The twins were grounded, so he couldn't hang with them, and he hadn't seen Cooper Perry the fire elemental hottie tonight. Sam didn't have Dax growing on his ass tonight, since Torin couldn't have tolerated that guy, so he might as well hang with him for a while.
Sam's jaw dropped and he blurted out, "Really?" before he caught himself and thought he shouldn't make too big of a deal of it. "Okay so it's pretty much like a list of questions but I need you not to answer them like you're answering. More like... An interview and you start everything you say with the question like a statement, okay?" He looked around hurriedly, then nudged Torin to get him to move a few steps to the side for a better frame.
Not answer them like he was answering. Really? What was that supposed to mean? "Give me an example of what you're talking about," Torin requested, forcing himself not to roll his eyes. He moved when Sam nudged him, mentally vowing to somehow erase Sam's film of him if it didn't come out right. How he'd do that he had no idea, but he would.
Sam was used to people not getting what he meant and it was no skin of his back to clarify. "Like, if I ask you what's your favorite fruit, don't just say Avocado or something. I can't use that. More like, my favorite fruit is avocado. Also, no one word answers. I can't really use anything if you just say yes, no or uh-huh." He thought that was clear enough and smiled brightly at Torin, worried he might change his mind. "Ready?"
"...Avocado's a fruit?" Torin said. "I thought it was a vegetable for some reason." He shook his head, as if mentally brushing that bit of foolishness away. He wondered what he was supposed to do if he didn't have an answer. Make shit up? Well, he could do that if he had to. People didn't think it of him sometimes, but he could be creative. "I'm totally ready," he replied to Sam's question, striking a casual pose with his thumbs hooked through his beltloops.
"It could be," Sam said with a shrug. He might have felt dumb for that if he wasn't so excited about Torin not changing his mind yet, grinning impishly at him as he branded the camera. "Okay, please introduce yourself, name age and where you're from: Start in five seconds from now." He started recording, careful to hold the camera steady and not bounce on his feet like he wanted to do.
Torin decided to pretend he was on one of those Real World shows or something. Not like there weren't a million reality shows to choose from. "I," he said with a deliberate pause after the requisite five seconds had passed, "am Torin Spencer, I'm eighteen--" Kind of. Technically he was twenty-one, but then Sam didn't know his little secret. "--and I'm from Darkwater, Oregon." He tried to smile mysteriously, as if he knew something his audience didn't, and since he actually did, that worked out well.
Sam smiled behind the camera. If only Torin knew how photogenic he was and how natural he looked on camera, he might be willing to do more of Sam's little projects. Sam would have to show him the finished product and if that didn't win him over, Sam didn't know what would. "Tell me a little about where we are and what's going on," he suggested, though that wasn't really a part of the project, it would make for a nice filler or a clip for something else.
"We're in Las Vegas," Torin said, rolling his eyes slightly, "and we're about to see Celine Dion go onstage for the five thousandth consecutive night of her busting everyone's eardrums." He smirked. "No, seriously. We're on Johnson's Beach in scenic Darkwater, Oregon, and it's the annual Fourth of July fireworks party." He thought his voice was smooth and mellow, good enough to usurp any news reporter or radio announcer in town.
Sam would have to agree with that, now he just wondered if Torin could act because if that was the case, he'd definitely be wanting him in more projects. A lot of people refused to take part because they felt stupid doing so but Sam doubted Torin had confidence problems. He was more likely to think the projects themselves were stupid or be a primadonna of the worst sort. At least he was participating in this one, so that was a start. "Have you ever made a bucket list, things you want to do before you die?" he asked, sounding awfully cheerful given the subject matter.
Sam had Torin pegged pretty well. He was nothing if not confident, but there were things he most likely wouldn't want to be filmed doing or talking about. This seemed fairly standard thus far, at least. "Who hasn't?" Torin said, completely bullshitting. He'd heard the term, of course, but he was a twenty-one year old metal elemental, and death was pretty far from his thoughts the majority of the time. "Mine includes finding a cure for cancer, going windsurfing, and having sex with the five hottest people in Darkwater." His smile was somehow both smug and self-depreciating. This was strangely fun.
Sam had a question already lined up next but he knew an opportunity when he saw one and with a curious grin he had to ask: "Who are the five sexiest people in Darkwater?" It was a fair question, he thought, and one that begged to be asked if Torin had it all figured out. He probably wouldn't agree with most or any of them. The Delaney twins were probably on there and while he could appreciate the aesthetics, their attitudes stripped away any sex appeal there might be.
No, he didn't go there! Torin held Sam's gaze, smiling still, holding up one finger warningly. "Uh-uh. That is not for public consumption, my friend." Hot and sexy were subjective concepts, anyway; he knew that who he thought was sexy, Sam might not. Probably wouldn't if he found Dax Everhart attractive. Ugh. "This isn't a tell-all sort of interview. Next question." He knew it would be bugging the hell out of Sam to wonder who exactly was on Torin's list. One thing Torin would never admit was that Sam had a spot on it. Because that would be asking to be mocked until the end of time.
"Chicken," Sam said lightly but he knew Torin was stubborn and he wasn't going to waste precious recording time on whining that would lead nowhere. "Pick one of those things to do this weekend. Say you have only forty eight hours to live, which one will you pick?" It should be obvious by now where this was going, Sam's little bucket list project.
Torin gave him a lofty look, eyebrows raised, then asked, "Do you want to be insulting, or do you want to interview me?" In some moods, that might have been the point where he walked away, leaving Sam and his camera hanging in the wind. Tonight, a slight warning was good enough. He allowed his expression to relax into a somewhat self-mocking smile. "Wind-surfing, of course. Isn't that what you'd pick?" He didn't know if Sam would answer his question or not, but it seemed worth asking.
"Interview you," Sam said hurriedly. "And no way, I'd go sky-diving, or gliding. So, what do you say about doing one of those things this week? On camera! Make a dream come true and contribute to my project. It'll be awesome, I promise!" He held the camera to the side a little to give Torin a hopeful smile.
Sky diving. Now, there was a thought. Torin wasn't afraid of heights. He wouldn't be too keen on landing in water, so that might let wind-surfing out, too. It was all fairly rhetorical to him, anyway. "Sounds good," he said, smiling impishly and not meaning a word of it. "I think I'll whip up that cancer cure. Meet me in the science lab on Tuesday. Oh, wait, it burned down. Guess we'll have to come up with a new plan." If only it wasn't nighttime, he'd stick a pair of sunglasses on his nose right about now to add to his air of casual cool.
Sam tilted his head, pouting theatrically. "Don't make me beg, Torin," he said sadly - only not really since he wasn't sad at all. "Please?" he added, drawing out the word petulantly before grinning at Torin. "It'll be so cool, believe me. I'm good at editing. I won't show anything embarrassing!"
Torin put one hand on his hip and tilted his own head to one side, regarding Sam-- and the camera-- soberly. Then he smiled, his gaze full of wicked mischief. "Maybe I'd like it if you begged," he replied. This was a little dangerous, but he could always play it off. He felt that he was granting Sam a huge concession by letting him film him even for a short while, and he had no intentions of doing something crazy like sky-diving and having it filmed. He didn't really see much appeal in acting like a reality TV star, in all honesty.
Sam sighed and knelt in front of him, still filming him but now from that interesting angle of someone below him. "Please," he said with the best puppy eyed look he could muster. "If you do my project I'll do anything for you! Except maybe hurt people 'cause I'd be shit at that but you probably wouldn't want me to anyway - since I'd be shit at it. But anything else, pretty please?"
Torin just looked at him, some of his glibness fading away. How much of his expression would be obvious beneath the night sky? He had no idea, and it was probably best he didn't know. "You never tell someone you'd do anything for them," he said, unsure why that bothered him. Maybe because it was Sam, who could sometimes seem like a big, goofy kid. Innocent. "I think I've had enough of this, alright?" He turned and walked a few paces to stare out at the distant ocean, the clamor of people all around not really registering with him as he wondered what was the matter with him this summer. Nothing seemed to be turning out like he'd planned, odd things seemed to be upsetting him.
Sam furrowed his brows and got to his feet, walking after Torin with his camera only half propped properly. He didn't want to turn it off, but obviously filming would probably piss Torin off. "I wouldn't say it to just anyone," he said casually. "Not creepy strangers or nothing. You don't like begging now? Shouldn't have told me to." He really didn't understand Torin most of the time, which only made him more interesting, really.
Thankfully for Sam, Torin didn't notice that he still had the camera on because he didn't turn around to look at him. "Maybe you shouldn't do what people tell you," he muttered. The wind was blowing his hair into even more of a mess than usual, but he couldn't have said he cared. "You can't just trust people like that." He was projecting his own worldview, most likely. Torin Spencer really, truly trusted very few people, and most of said people were his own flesh and blood. Suddenly he wished for one of the small bottles of booze his dad brought home from trips, like the ones he'd taken to Jordan's house. They were so much more potent for drunkenness than beer.
"It's no skin off my back," Sam said and really didn't know what to make of all of this. It just seemed like there were issues involved and he'd never known much about how to deal with those. For now he did turn off the camera, stepping closer to Torin and leaning over to sort of peek at him from down below his shoulder, like he was sneakily peeking around a wall instead of his arm. "What's all this about?"
Torin was frustrated, because he didn't even know why he'd suddenly gotten a bug up his ass. He was starting to wonder if he had some kind of fucking mood disorder... or he would have if it hadn't been for his clearly superior genetics. He did glance to one side when he felt Sam move closer, so he could be sure he wasn't still being filmed, but then he faced front again. "I'm done being interviewed for the night," he said. "That's what this is about." His tone wasn't overly hostile but more listless and a little flat.
Sam wondered if his next project should be 'cracking the mystery that is Torin Spencer' but if he kept coming up with new projects, he'd never finish any of them. "Come on then, no more interviewing," he promised, stepping up next to Torin and shrugging off his little backpack, pointedly putting the camera away. "Will that make you happy?"
Torin snorted when Sam asked if no more interviewing would make him happy. "Probably not," he said, "but it's a start." Hey, at least he was honest. And he probably needed to quit being a moody dick, or else Sam would go find someone else to hang out with, and rightfully so. "I want some more beer," he said, introducing a new subject. "Wanna see if we can find someone to give us some?" There were plenty of drunk college-age kids around here who'd probably share, if they were persistent enough.
Sam hadn't put his backpack back on and he reached back in and pulled out a coke bottle containing something that clearly wasn't coke. "If you can't find beer, you can have some Gin and Tonic, complements of my mom." He wiggled the bottle a little, then opened it and took a sip. Maybe more alcohol would cheer Torin up. Or maybe not, wasn't alcohol a depressant or something? Oh well, it always made him a bit hyper and happy so who knew.
"No point in looking for beer if you have booze already," Torin said. Gin and tonic was always okay by him, especially if that meant he didn't have to go hitting up other people to get booze. He could have brought some from home himself, but he just hadn't thought of it. He glanced down to make sure there wasn't anything gross in the sand and then sat himself down, looking up to Sam in hopes that he'd hand the bottle over soon.
Sam took another swig before plopping down on the sand next to Torin, holding the bottle out for him. Unlike Torin he didn't really check where he was sitting down for whatever might be there. "You're a moody son of a bitch, you know that?" he said amiably enough, resting his arms on his knees and smiling at Torin.
Torin took the bottle from Sam as soon as it was offered and chugged from it, burning his throat a little but managing not to spit any of it out. He lowered it and coughed, then nestled it into the sand: voila! Instant cup holder. The way Sam was smiling at him was somehow soothing, and he smiled back, a little grudgingly, raising his own knees and pillowing his head on them, his face turned toward Sam. "Yeah, I know it. I blame an artistic temperament." Creativity ran in his family. His dad the well-known artist, his brother the aspiring novelist. "And tonight I'm gonna be a drunk, moody son of a bitch."
"Should I be running away?" Sam asked. "That doesn't sound like an awesome time, just saying." He would, if Torin got extra sulky. It just seemed like a waste of energy and time to try cheering someone up for too long. "What do you have to be so moody about anyway?" It was an honest question, not a reminder that Torin had it good or anything. Hadn't he also been in a pretty good mood before the interview? It made Sam wonder if he was to blame and he tried to remember what he'd asked that could have triggered it. "Are you dying for real or something?"
"If you want to," Torin said. He wasn't going to beg anyone to spend time with him; that just wasn't how he rolled. "But I'm keepin' the booze. Just saying." His tone was a bit lighter, though, even if he was perplexed when Sam asked him what he had to be moody about. How could a moody person explain the reason they were moody? That didn't even make sense. The smallest things could trigger it. Anything he could think of to say either sounded whiny or wasn't anything he wanted to share with Sam: This summer is sucking. I miss my long-distance hookup.I have the hots for you and you're completely inappropriate. There's a new, hot elemental dude in town and I don't think he likes guys. Yeah, he was pathetic, especially considering he'd recently gotten laid by Jordan Delaney, who was incredibly smokin'. "No, I'm not dying for real," he settled for. "Don't you ever let things get you down sometimes?" He was kind of curious about that, because Sam was always so damned perky.
"Yeah sometimes," Sam said with a little shrug. "When sad stuff happens." He didn't really get down for no reason, tired maybe, but not down. "Or if I'm sick or something." Sam was a pretty happy person, sometimes even awful things didn't really get him down, case in point the body-find he'd experienced with Torin. It had rattled him for sure, but he didn't dwell on it. Maybe that was why he was so confused by Torin's mood swings, they didn't really make sense to him - not in another guy. Girls had all that hormone crap to go through, his mom was awful at times, but Sam and his dad were pretty consistent with their mood, Boesch Senior was stoic, Boesch Junior just hyper.
"You're a living saint, Boesch," Torin said, amiably enough, sitting up and then leaning over to nudge his shoulder against Sam's. "Maybe some of it'll rub off on me, you think?" He reached for the bottle of gin and tonic again and drank some more down. He was feeling a little more mellow, though still subdued. Maybe drinking some more would help. He might say one thing, but he'd actually be pretty bummed if Sam got up and left him here, so maybe he could loosen up a bit. "Want some?" He extended the bottle Sam's way.
Sam took the bottle but only after rubbing Torin's shoulder briskly - rubbing off on him, of course, yes he was just that goofy. He drank, then wiped his mouth and grinned at Torin. "I wish you loved my camera as much as my camera loves you," he sighed, leaning in to bump his shoulder against Torin's in much the same way Torin had done. He still wanted Torin in that project but every time a camera was involved, Torin seemed to get grumpy. It was like a damn curse.
The touches felt extra nice, something that seemed to happen to Torin every time he'd had a bit to drink. "I've seen your YouTube videos," he said. "I don't want people pulling up weird stuff online and laughing at me." To him that was one of the worst things that could happen: appearing foolish, risking people's bad opinions of him. He had to be on top, cool, envied. That was just how it was. "I'm sorry I don't love your camera," he said gravely, then snickered. For some reason that seemed funny. It was probably the booze speaking.
"What if I promise that I won't put any of your videos on my youtube?" Sam asked, feeling like he was getting somewhere with this. "I'll only use your clips for serious projects like student film competitions or a real, full feature documentary." He sucked his bottom lip in, looking at Torin excitedly. Maybe with the threat of youtube out of the way, he'd be more willing to participate in Sam's projects. It wasn't like he put everything on his youtube anyway, a lot of the stuff he filmed was hidden away in boxes either without purpose altogether or awaiting its purpose.
Torin reached for the bottle again as he contemplated Sam's proposal. He wasn't sure he wanted random bits of film of him being in some film competition or documentary, and he also didn't know why he didn't just tell Sam to fuck off and stop bugging him about getting in front of that camera of his. He swigged down some more gin and tonic and gave Sam a ponderous look. "Maybe, on a case by case basis. That is my final answer." He felt overly warm now, and he was glad he had on a tank top instead of one of his usual polo shirts or designer collared shirts.
That was good enough for Sam who beamed at him for it, because it meant an occasional yes and that was a lot better than a flat out no. "Case by case basis," he agreed. "As long as you're not saying that just to get my hopes up and then dash them every time like you have some disappointment fetish or something." He held out his hand for the bottle. "So do you wanna do something crazy with me for a bucket list this week?"
"Would I do that to you?" Torin said, and yes, that was a bit of a smoldering look that he gave him as he did. The other thing throwing a few back usually did for him was make him kind of horny, which probably wasn't the best thing considering with whom he was hanging out right then. He handed the bottle over and thought about Sam's request, then replied, "Maybe. Depends on what it is." He could never just come right out and let go, could he? There was always that little part of him that felt obligated to be cautious.
"It's up to you, duh," Sam said cheerfully, though that look gave him some pause. It was very Torin, he thought, unsure if it was really aimed at him and it probably wasn't - but he couldn't know that for a fact. He really was bad at reading people. "Anything you want to do on camera. We can do something else first, like practice, without filming it. If you don't want to do it for the first time on film, I mean."
"Maybe I don't want it to be up to me," Torin said, his usual perversity rearing its ugly head. "We should do something from your bucket list. I'm sure you have one, right?" This was a bad scenario for him. It was dark, and there were enough people milling around, drinking and hooting and laughing and chattering, that they were pretty much anonymous, sitting down here on the sand. He shifted his weight to put him closer to Sam, ostensibly reaching for the bottle again. When Sam said the words if you don't want to do it for the first time on film, he snorted laughter. He couldn't help it. What a perfect bit of innuendo. He wondered if Sam would make out with him if they could do it on film.
"It's your bucket list I'm interested in," Sam said, oblivious to the innuendo and Torin's dirty thoughts. "I'll do mine too, I'm playing around with some ideas and stuff. I want to do others' first though, in case I kill myself doing mine." He didn't really mean that but it was a lame joke and lame or not, it made him snicker softly. "So your list is up to you, picking an item of it I mean. Unless you give me some ideas and I'll pick for you."
"You are totally killing me," Torin grumbled with a huffy sigh. How could it possibly be that Sam never glommed on to any innuendo he made, would instead rather talk about stuff like bucket lists and video projects? He had to force himself not to get cranky again, because it seemed like that was just Sam. "I don't know... I don't really care what we do." He shrugged, managing a half-smile, trying to summon that Spencer charm back up again.
Sam was tempted to tell him that he'd make him do awful things, but Torin was so hard to deal with and he knew he'd never in a million years do something he didn't want to do. It made him want to shake him, or break him and get him to be the freakin' star he could be. "We'll figure something out, something fun." He smiled at Torin, though there was some defeat in it. "The idea is kind of you picking something though."
"Sometimes the plan changes in the middle," Torin said blithely when Sam told him the idea was him picking something. "Such is life, man. You gotta be flexible." He nudged his shoulder into Sam's again and then sat back a little, bracing himself on his hands and looking up at the sky. Damn, he was in a weird mood. Halfway to drunk, horny, restless, a bit testy and yet occasionally mellow all at the same time. This probably wasn't a good thing, because he might wind up doing something he shouldn't. It was strange how he could know that and not really care. Maybe it was the booze fogging his brain.
"I'm super flexible," Sam exclaimed. "Not flexible enough for auto fellatio yet but watch me, it'll happen." He snickered and took another sip of his booze. That should cheer Torin up, he thought, make him laugh a little. "That shit is hard though, not so much about being flexible..." He trailed off, probably over thinking it or at least over selling the joke - which wasn't that much of a joke to begin with but he hoped it was funny anyway.
"Really?" Torin started to snicker, then flopped over on his side facing Sam, unable to control his sudden mirth. "You've really tried to suck your own dick?" Well, hell, maybe he had. Sam got his wish; Torin thought it was hysterical. "Dude. There's no way I'd do that. I'd rather get someone else to do it." He reached for the bottle again in a demanding sort of way. No, imperious, that was the word he was looking for.
Sam handed the bottle over with a snicker. "Yeah sure whatever, but it's ambitious, you gotta admit that. How many guys do you know who can do it?" He mistook Torin's laughter for disbelief and laughed more himself. "I'm not joking!" At least he was laughing, much better than being surly.
"I don't know anyone who'd admit to doin' it, except you," Torin said, nearly spilling the bottle Sam handed him before righting it and putting it to his lips. "I can't decide if it's ambitious or desperate," he retorted after he'd drank, reaching up and nesting the bottle in the sand so it wouldn't fall over. He was one to talk about being desperate, considering that he'd had a yen for Sam for months, one so strong that even being out of the country for a while hadn't killed it. He should just kiss the guy and get the humiliation of being laughed at over with, he thought, disgusted with himself.
"It's ambitious!" Sam protested, even shaking his fist in the air for emphasis. "If I was desperate I could probably score a blowjob from Dax. He wants to be a porn star, you know?" Of course he didn't mean that he'd only do Dax if he was desperate, though it really came off that way and he mulled it over in his head but then let it go. Torin didn't give a hoot about Dax so that didn't really matter. "It's just a matter of setting a goal and reaching it. One of my goals just happens to be auto fellatio."
"No, I didn't know," Torin said dryly. Nor did he care. He felt a major sense of antipathy for the guy for some reason, but then he felt that way about quite a few people around town. He didn't want to get grumpy again, so he moved along with the subject at hand. "It's good to have a goal, I guess." The thought of Sam trying to blow himself was more silly than sexy in Torin's opinion, but he didn't say that. "You should set up your camera and film it." Talk about some porn.
"Who says I haven't?" Sam asked, leaning forward and half-crawling the short distance it took for him to reach the bottle instead of just asking Torin to hand it to him. "You should always assume I have footage of something, if you gotta assume something in the first place." He drank and enjoyed the warmth behind his ears, a satisfied smile on his face. "So what's your goal?"
Sam suddenly getting much closer to him had Torin's heart thudding in his chest. It was dark and chaotic here on the beach, and they weren't even in the most populated area. There were too many people to do anything too crazy, but he felt confident that nobody would notice them amidst the drunken revelers. Maybe it was a sign or something... or maybe he was drunk enough that he'd seize on any excuse. He was totally going to do it, and if it went south, he'd use the alcohol as a handy excuse. That decided, he smiled his best lazy, sensual smile and drawled, "Maybe my goal is to see footage of you tryin' to suck your own dick."
Sam let out a high pitched giggle at that, pointing at Torin as he snickered. "You're going about it all wrong! You should be like... hanging out at my house and rifling through my vids while I'm sleeping or busy with something. Like James Bond. Torin Bond." The alcohol was kicking in and he was as obtuse as ever when someone flirted with him, aiming his hand like a gun, Bond style, at nothing in particular. He laughed again and gave Torin an amused smile. "You don't even like my videos."
Torin rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's what I think I'll do. Spend the night and then get up when you go to sleep so I can snoop through your shit." He reached out to swat at Sam's fingers when he shaped them into a gun. "Correction: I don't like when you make videos of me." He held Sam's gaze, then crooked a finger in invitation. "C'mere. Gotta tell you somethin'." Sam was fairly close to him already, but he needed him closer for what he wanted to do. He was finally beginning to realize that the boy was just clueless.
Sam felt certain that when he leaned in, Torin would flick his ear or something, he was just always so annoyed with him that it seemed like the logical conclusion. With a resigned grin he leaned in anyway. It wasn't a secret, that was for sure, they weren't surrounded by people where they were sitting, nobody else could hear them over the noise of the festivities. If he flicked his ear, Sam would just tackle him and film the fuck out of him or something.
Torin's stomach was in a knot, and his heart beat even faster when Sam got closer. The moment of truth had arrived, and he really didn't know what the hell to expect. Would Sam laugh, hit him, kiss back? The day he'd run into Sam outside the asylum, he never would have thought he'd be doing something like this such a short time later. He hitched in a breath, let it out and then struck like a snake: one hand grasped the back of Sam's neck, and he planted his mouth on the other boy's, tongue instantly seeking entrance. Go big or go home, yeah? If he was going to do this and possibly become the laughingstock of Darkwater if Sam told everyone, he might as well really know what it was like.
Sam should have seen it coming but he was Sam and he was painfully oblivious at all times. His eyes widened when Torin kissed him but his mouth seemed to catch on before he did, lips parting and tongue moving to meet Torin's. It wasn't his first kiss, how could it be with a friend like Dax? But it was the most unexpected kiss ever and that made it hot. Not to mention it was Torin Spencer - which made it surreal as hell as well as hot - like it gave him bragging rights or something. Mostly it was just mind boggling but he didn't really think about that. Torin's hand felt nice on his head and man, the guy's reputation couldn't be a lie with the way he kissed. It made Sam pretty sure he'd get bored within minutes and laugh it off so he'd enjoy it while he could.
What Sam didn't know was how long Torin had fancied him. Kissing him was the culmination of a score of secret fantasies and jerk-off sessions, and it was even hotter than he'd hoped for when he felt Sam's tongue touch his. He shivered, breathing a soft sound into the kiss and deepening it when Sam showed no signs of wanting to pull away. Sam might freak out when they had to separate to breathe; he had no way of knowing. That being the case, he wanted to get the most out of it that he possibly could. His dick did, too, twitching and stiffening in his jeans. Getting hard from the first few moments of a kiss: how adolescent was that? He couldn't seem to help it, though.
Sam kissed him back eagerly for those few moments before he pushed him away. It was more playful than angry and he took it further, tackling him with his weight behind it until Torin was on his back on the ground. He straddled him there, leaned over him with his faces mere inches from Torin's. "Is this a joke?" he asked, grinning curiously. Of course he could think it was, Torin could be doing another one of his mocking things and Sam was quite used to being the butt of jokes from people like him. "'Cause you're taking it weirdly far if it is." He glanced down from Torin's face, realizing there was hardness there and he was pretty sure it wasn't a gun in his pocket. Not a joke then and the realization was there in Sam's face when he looked back up at Torin. "You are so unpredictable," he murmured.
Torin was resigned to some sort of badness when Sam shoved him away, but then he was actually climbing on top of him. It was true that he felt a little tense then, wondering if anyone might see them, but he wouldn't really want to be seen rolling around on the sand with anybody. He preferred to conduct such activities in private, but then he'd started this, hadn't he? His breathing was labored as he frowned, about to protest when Sam asked him if it was a joke, but he realized it wasn't before Torin could say anything. "I'm not unpredictable," he said, switching to flirting mode, lowering his lashes to watch Sam through them. "You just don't pay attention." He'd dropped any number of hints through body language and even spoken innuendo, but Sam hadn't gotten it, at all. Hence the desperate act of simply lunging for him and kissing him.
"I do too," Sam protested but at least Torin hadn't said he was dumb as a brick or something. He couldn't remember a single hint from Torin, so maybe he was prone to brick-stupidity. He did pick up on the change in demeanor though and it made him grin a bit impishly at Torin. "Is this part of your plan to see my video?" he teased, lowering himself down a little more so his nose touched Torin's. "Or did you just want to kiss me?"
"Do not," Torin said, his voice sounding distinctly pouty. This was kind of fun, actually. He hadn't really expected Sam to kiss him back, to behave as if his attentions might be welcomed, but Sam seemed to be at least reasonably into it. He smiled faintly at Sam's question and murmured, "I didn't know about the video, so I guess I must've wanted to kiss you." He moved his head just enough that his nose nudged Sam's, feeling a bit self-conscious as he remembered they were out on a public beach, in a crowd. Evidently not self-conscious enough to stop yet, though.
Sam wasn't thinking about where they were, alcohol made him more careless than usual, not to mention he didn't mind attention at most times. He grinned at Torin's sort of admitting he'd wanted to kiss him, still a little surprised but definitely ego-boosted. "You should have just done it, I had no clue," he said with a small snort at his own oblivious nature, then leaned in and kissed Torin again, only briefly. "Oh, did you wanna kiss me again?" he asked as he raised his head again. "Or was it a one time deal?"
The alcohol helped a lot, because Torin wasn't thinking about how he might feel tomorrow, how Sam might feel, if this could get weird, anything. "That's why I did just do it," he pointed out before Sam's lips brushed over his again. "One time deals are no fun," he said. "But I'm kinda feeling a little bit exposed right now, so we should probably knock it off." He bucked his hips against Sam's, as if to throw him off of his body, or maybe tease some more. He wasn't entirely sure what it was intended for in his own mind, even.
Sam rolled off of him dramatically, like he'd indeed been thrown off. He made himself tumble with a fake painful groan, then sprawled out like a fallen man. "Wicked," he drawled, then glanced at Torin. "How come you're feeling exposed when I'm hiding you?" He had been on top, he meant so Torin had been less exposed in his opinion. "You worried about the crowd? I think they're all too busy with their booze to care." He rolled onto his side again, propping himself up on his elbow, his head on his hand. "I could probably hide you somewhere."
Torin sighed in an exaggerated fashion. "Because I don't like screwing around with people where anyone could see, even a bunch of drunken idiots." He turned onto his own side, facing Sam, propping up on his elbow in a perfect mirror of Sam's position. Well, okay, that had gone better than he'd thought it might. He was turned-on and twitchy now, but that was better than other possibilities he'd thought of. "You could hide me somewhere," he repeated, bemused. "Like where?"
"In my pocket? Under my shirt?" Sam teased. "I don't know, you seem to wanna hide. I wanna help." Though he wasn't so good at hiding things, far better at putting them on display. "So, am I on your bucket list?" he asked. "'Cause if I am, it doesn't mean you're off the hook with doing something else on there."
"I'd rather hide in your pants," Torin shot back without even thinking about it. "Got room in there for me?" His lips tweaked upward in a wicked smile. Hey, he could still blame all this on the various kinds of alcohol he'd had tonight if it started to go bad, but he was beginning to think it might not. Sam seemed to be taking it all in stride. "You might be, you might not be," he replied, reaching out with one foot to nudge Sam's. "I'm not tellin' all my secrets at one time."
Sam laughed a little, cocking a brow at him. "S'that so?" he murmured, humming at the lack of secrets. "What do you wanna do in my pants?" he asked suggestively, amused and a bit intrigued. He'd honestly gotten a bit bored with the whole mutual fap thing with Dax. It had felt good, sure, but it was just so much like jerking himself off so he didn't really see the point. There were other things he hadn't tried though, that he was sure Dax was willing to try with him but it was somehow a little more exciting to imagine doing it with Torin. Maybe because Dax was as he was and Torin had, so far, seemed like someone who'd never even look at Sam that way.
"I could think of several possibilities," Torin said, realizing that he was behaving like a shameless slut and not caring. He was halfway to drunk and he'd finally gotten somewhere with Sam B., even if it was only a kiss and some suggestive talk. Even if he'd had to completely initiate it himself. "Too bad we're not somewhere private, huh?" That kind of talk wasn't helping him become less aroused or to show good sense; it was rather nice that it didn't seem to matter to him tonight. "Y'know that tattoo you showed me?" he asked suddenly. "I really, really wanted to lick it."
Sam might not be slutty or even all that sexual but he was pretty damn shameless. He laughed again at Torin's confession, though it was more a giddy laugh than amused one. He was lying on the side where his tattoo was not so it seemed pretty opportune to pull his shirt up and unbutton his jeans just enough to nudge them down over the hip to display the tattoo. "Go right ahead," he said with a grin, not really thinking about the lack of privacy, even if Torin had just mentioned it to him. "You totally can."
Torin rolled his eyes and then looked distinctly pouty. "Wow, thanks, why don't you do that in the middle of a public beach? Tease." There was no way he was going to get down by someone's crotch out in public, even though it was dark, not to mention Bacchanalian, out here tonight. "Bet you wouldn't be so brave if we were someplace else." It occurred to him that maybe Sam was messing with him. Was it possible that he had picked up on Torin's vibes before but was only pretending he hadn't?
That sounded like a challenge and Sam propped himself up better, giving Torin a look. "Oh yeah? Like where?" he asked. "I'm always brave, Torin. You should know that about me by now." He really was too, sometimes to a fault. He didn't think anything Torin wanted to do was cause for worry or fear however, so the implication amused him.
Torin wasn't one to back down from a challenge either, and he gave Sam an arch look. "Your house, my house-- I have a poolhouse that's really private. Some other secluded place." He could probably find one somewhere, even if it wasn't his preferred option. Around here, you never knew who or what might be lurking around. "So zip up, and let's go." He wasn't too drunk to drive, he didn't think, and even if he was, nothing was all that far away in Darkwater. He sat up, prepared to get to his feet and brush the sand off.
Sam rolled onto his back and pulled his pants up then sat up as well. "Beach house sounds fun," he said and squinted his eyes a bit when he looked at Torin. "You're not joking, are you?" he asked skeptically, lithely pushing himself to his feet. That'd suck, being taken for a fool. But he kind of felt like they had some kinship after everything they'd been through and he was always more than ready to walk into a trap, what with being a little too brave and all.
Torin got up when Sam did, brushing the sand off of his jeans and then fishing for his car keys. When Sam asked if he was joking, he snorted laughter. "What would possibly make you think I was joking?" he wanted to know. "I just kissed you out on the beach, giving you the chance to make fun of me forever if you weren't into it." He was also still painfully hard and transparently eager to get Sam to go someplace more private with him. Joking? Psh. He turned to head to the lot and his car, looking back to make sure Sam was following him.
"Like I'd do that," Sam said. He let people make fun of themselves but he sure as hell didn't do it except amiably to their faces. He followed Torin, forgetting the empty gin bottle behind them, half dug into the sand. "Are you okay to drive?" he asked when they reached the car, wondering if Torin wasn't, maybe he was. It had been awesome driving Torin's car.
"Yeah," Torin replied when asked if he was all right to drive. "I'll just take it slow on the curves." He would have to live up in the mountains, wouldn't he? He unlocked the car with the remote opener and slid into the driver's seat. It made sense for him to drive since he knew where he lived and Sam didn't, was his line of thought. He had a feeling of unreality as he started the engine: was this really happening? He wondered what Sam would think if he knew how long Torin had been slightly obsessed with him.
Sam thought that phrase could be hella funny if he was a girl and actually had curves, but he wasn't so it was just funny to him for some weird reason. He got into the passenger seat and didn't bother with the seat belt since he never did unless he was reminded to. Instead he propped one knee up on the seat so he could sit facing Torin. "You gonna let me drive your car again sometime? When I'm not this drunk, I mean," he asked, leaning his shoulder and head against his seat.
Torin pulled out of the lot, hoping he didn't hit anything. His vision was a little bit blurry. Not enough to seriously worry about, he didn't think. He'd just have to be careful. He put the air conditioning on full blast, thinking that the chill would keep him alert and maybe sober him up some. When Sam asked if he could drive the car again, Torin said, "Sure. Why not?" He'd driven it before and nothing disastrous had happened. Squinting through the windshield, he started up the road that led to his subdivision, carefully keeping his mind on his driving. Thinking about what might happen when they got there would be too distracting.
The chill was nice and Sam closed his eyes, tilting his head just so to enjoy it. He was in no state to drive it now since he'd drank quite a bit after running into Torin but the thought of driving the car again sometime was pretty awesome. He didn't open his eyes until it slowed down. Had he dozed off? He didn't feel like he had, in fact he felt exactly like he had when he closed his eyes but there they suddenly were, pulling up outside Torin's house. "We're here?" he asked with some surprise. Time was weird when you were drunk.
It was normally about a five-minute drive from downtown Darkwater to Torin's subdivision, but his unusual caution made it nearly ten. He was focused in on driving and the faint backbeat of the radio, and he didn't realize that Sam had drowsed off for a few. "Yeah, we're here," he replied, punching his remote opener for the five-car garage, which was detached from the house. His dad's Hummer was gone, and so was Trevor's car. Interesting. He would have thought that his brother would be holed up in his room being a hermit. He couldn't imagine Taryn being home by herself; she was probably out with some of her friends or something. Once they were in the garage, he punched the button to bring the door down behind them. "C'mon," he said, getting out of the car and heading for the door that would take them from the garage to the pool area.
Now that they were actually there, Sam realized he had no idea what he was doing. It wasn't in a second thought sort of way - he genuinely had no idea what he was doing. Jerking Dax off for laughs was one thing, this was a lot more Real Thing. He was a little amused at himself and the situation, not about to back out but realizing he felt a little blind going in and a whole lot dumb. "You're gonna need to hide me," he said giddily as he followed after Torin, shoving his hands deep in his pockets and biting his lip in an impish grin. "Your sister would... faint. At best. If she saw me."
"C'mon over here and get in my pocket, then," Torin said, amused. He shrugged a shoulder as they exited the garage and walked onto the concrete surrounding the pool. The entire area was dimly lit and smelled faintly of chlorine; the covered back deck and the house loomed to the left, and to the right of the pool was the smaller poolhouse. "I don't think anyone's home, anyway," he added. And they were going to the poolhouse, where it was highly unlikely anyone would even knock on the door. The metal elemental Spencers weren't so much into swimming. "And yeah, my sister might flip a little." That was probably an understatement.
He got a snicker out of Sam who felt tempted to sneak his hand into Torin's pocket after that invitation. Wasn't he supposed to hide Torin in his pocket? "We can go swimming," he said cheerfully. "It's not the ocean." It was a reminder of Torin's reluctance to swim when they went to the beach, of course. Sam liked swimming whether it was in the ocean or a pool, though when he was drunk he was always a little bit reminded of how Dax had sort of died like that.
Ugh. Torin suppressed his urge to make a face when Sam brought up swimming. "We could," he said, sounding a little bit doubtful. "Can't say I wanna lick you when you taste like chlorine, but there's a shower in there." He didn't really want to get his hair wet and look like a drowned rat, either, but now might not be the time to act like a diva. Sam had actually agreed to come up here with him, hopefully with some kind of screwing around in mind, and he didn't want to make him change his mind.
Sam snickered at the thought of Torin licking him and really, his interest was tickled again. "So that's what you're gonna do in my pants?" he asked, more jokingly than anything. The swimming could definitely wait, it wasn't like he couldn't do that whenever. How many times was Torin Spencer going to offer up this sort of interest?
"You undid your pants on the beach so I could lick your tattoo," Torin reminded him. "Did you forget that part? Or did you just do it 'cause you knew I wouldn't, out there?" Shiiiit, had Boesch come all the way up here with him to tease him some more? He stifled a sigh and headed for the poolhouse, taking his key out of his pocket to unlock the door. In his mind, Sam had all kinds of experience. He'd have to. Torin of course had no clue about the reality. He got the door open and turned to lean in the doorframe, giving Sam a quizzical look. "Coming?" he asked, then smirked. Innuendo definitely intended.
Sam grinned and slipped inside, giving Torin a bit of an impish grin as he did so. "That's all you wanna lick?" he asked and realized belatedly just how that sounded. Accidental sexy talk, ho yeah! Maybe he was smoother than he thought. Now that idea just made him want to laugh again and he barely smothered it by biting his lip, his grin only brightening as his teeth dug in.
"You'll just have to wait and find out," Torin told him, his eyebrows arching. He locked the door behind them and slid the bolt that meant that nobody would be able to open it from outside, even with a key. Then he turned back around to face Sam. The poolhouse was dimly lit; there was a minibar in the corner of the front room, and the little brass lamp with the blue glass shade stayed on all the time. The front room also contained wicker furniture set up to look like somebody's living room and a bookcase in the other corner, and another door led to a fully furnished bedroom and a bathroom that also held a changing room. It was like a mini apartment, and the Spencers had lodged guests here before.
"So," he said, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. "I'd offer you a drink, but I think we both had enough." There was ginger ale if they got thirsty later, at least.
"Have we?" Sam said with a quiet laugh. "I thought you at least would have to be a lot more drunk to go licking my tattoo." Not that he thought the tattoo licking was all that scandalous, but it was Torin. He'd look around later, right now he was a little preoccupied by the fact that Torin had dragged him there for... licking apparently. He had no idea how far that would go and the idea excited him a little. It also made him just a tiny bit nervous. "If this is on your bucket list, I'm gonna have to film it, you know," he teased, keeping his hands in his pockets for now.
"No, no," Torin said, grinning at him. "I'm just drunk enough to lick your tattoo but not too drunk for... other stuff." He wasn't sure what to make of Sam's demeanor or his expression, and he still had a tiny bit of worry that maybe Sam was playing him somehow. He made a face when Sam brought up the camera. "That's kinda kinky... maybe some other time." He wasn't sure if he meant that or not; the idea of digital film of him being intimate with someone made him twitchy. It was too easy for something like that to get out. He ambled over to the door that led to the bedroom and paused there, looking back at Sam. "C'mon." He was determined he was going to find out if Sam was really serious about this or not.
"Just right," Sam said as he followed him slowly, feeling oddly a lot like the new kid at school or something. "Cooked through and not burned." Where did that metaphor even come from? God he felt weird. "You don't like kinky?" he asked before delving into metaphor analysis. "No Torin sex tapes out in the world or-" he trailed off, realizing Torin had said 'later'. "Or you do... Shit, I'm not in for some crazy weirdness, am I?"
"Depends on what you call kinky," Torin said with a shrug, kicking off his flip-flops and standing barefoot on the carpet in the middle of the room. There was a window in here, but the blinds were closed and the only light came from the lamp in the other room. Everything was washed with a faint, otherworldly blue. Kinda cool, he thought. He gave Sam a slow half-smile when he asked if he was in for crazy weirdness. "You'd be more likely to get crazy weird than I would, Boesch," he said. Sam had the look of someone who was a little freaky sexually, in Torin's opinion. A little freaky was fine by him.
Sam laughed, a bit higher pitch than normal, and strolled further inside though not quite toward Torin. "Would not," he said coyly, feeling a little more sober than he had just minutes before. "Is there actually any alcohol in that mini bar?" he asked, though he wasn't sure he even wanted to drink more or if he just wanted Torin to do something to relieve him of those weird jitters of wondering.
"Would too," Torin argued. His horniness had faded a little, but he knew it would return quickly once they got started. If they got started. "Yeah, there's alcohol," he said in answer to Sam's question. "That's the idea behind a mini bar." He watched Sam wander around, not wanting to just go over and pounce the guy but not really sure what to do next. He didn't like this feeling of slight awkwardness, especially since he didn't know where it had come from. "So I'm feeling sorta like a guy chasin' after a nervous virgin," he said abruptly, tired of waffling around.
Sam sat down at the edge of the bed, bouncing a little and grinning at Torin's words. Well, yeah, he wanted to say. "It was your idea," he said instead. "Why don't you show me what you want to do?" His grin turned a bit cheeky and his heart was beating faster. What was he doing here again? Curiosity drove him onward, but he wasn't even sure just what he was so curious about. He knew plenty about sex, so it had to be Torin, or at least Torin's sudden interest in doing this.
This might very well be his only chance to mess around with Sam. Torin had no way of knowing if that was the case, but he knew it was time to get on with this. He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, too, eying Sam in the dim light. "To start with, getting warmed up again would be good," he said, his voice soft now that he was up close. He leaned in, grabbing a handful of Sam's shirt in his fist and starting to kiss him again. Little did Sam know that there wasn't anything sudden about Torin's interest. His underground obsession had been present for at least a year, maybe more.
Sam was happy to return that kiss, it just felt less awkward when Torin was right there, touching him than it did when they were standing with several feet of empty space between them. He tilted his head into it and reached up to tangle his fingers in Torin's thick, curly hair, keeping his hand by the back of his neck. He'd be crazy if he didn't find Torin attractive, he was one of the best looking people in Darkwater and anyone would agree, or almost - maybe people who hated him wouldn't find him all that awesome.
Sam was super-hot in that tattooed bad-boy kind of way, although getting to know him somewhat had shown Torin that the bad boy part of it was deceptive. The guy was more goofy than badass, but he was still hot. Hot and sitting here on the bed in Torin's poolhouse, kissing him back. It didn't take long for him to get excited again, particularly since he was thinking about the fun things that could be done with a bed and complete privacy. His hands edged up under the hem of Sam's shirt and he started pushing it up with the idea of taking it off of him. Of course, that meant he'd have to stop kissing him, at least for a few seconds.
Sam was perfectly willing to help with that, more tattoos for Torin to lick and all, so he pulled back and tugged the shirt up over his head. He liked the look on Torin's face, he found. He looked like he was really into this and it made Sam feel a little fuzzy-warm. He kissed him again, liking the way their tongues had clashed and played, Torin really knew how to kiss which made Sam wonder what else he was good at.
Torin liked the tattooed look. Just because he wouldn't mar his own body with tattoos or piercings didn't mean he didn't like them on other people. His gaze skimmed over Sam's torso once Sam had pulled his shirt off, but he leaned in to kiss Torin again, which distracted him pretty well. He was experiencing a strange mix of emotions, torn between lust and incredulity and a slight uneasiness. When he had to pause for breath again, he pulled his tank top over his head and tossed it aside, then reached out to touch the tats on Sam's left arm.
Sam was probably the cause for that unease, at least he felt like his nervousness was radiating off him. He wasn't often that nervous but he wasn't often half naked, kissing Torin Spencer either. He reached up to run his hand down Torin's chest, palm flat against his skin, trailing slowly down to his stomach. He'd jerked a guy off before so it shouldn't be a big deal, though he'd been a little bored with it then. That had been Dax though and he could act like an idiot with Dax if he wanted. Torin was more likely to get frustrated and too often did in fact. "You like them?" he asked, not entirely convinced that Torin did. Not everyone liked skulls as much as he did.
Torin hitched in a breath as Sam's fingers trailed along his skin, and his stomach muscles tightened involuntarily. That was more like it. He liked not knowing exactly what to expect, somehow. When Sam asked if he liked the tats he was touching, he murmured, "Yeah, they're kinda cool." Skulls and flowers wouldn't work on everyone, but on Boesch they were somehow perfect. "What's the one on your chest?" he asked, then leaned over a little to start tracing his tongue over the ink on Sam's arm. Really, the one below the waist was the one he looked forward to, but that was the entree. The other ones could count as the appetizer.
"My diamond lady?" Sam murmured. "Lady of the dead, death by diamond and pearls," he trailed off dismissively, watching Torin's tongue with interest. "Like the way they taste?" he asked half jokingly. He might as well ask if he liked the way Sam tasted since those tattoos were as much a part of him as his skin was now. As he watched, he couldn't help but giggle as another stupid thought entered his head. "Watching you makes me wish they were scratch and sniff..."
Lady of the dead. That had a neat sound to it, Torin thought. Very mystical. The whole night had the potential for an air of mystery: slight drunkenness, washed in blue light, first time fooling around together. "Mm-hmm," Torin mumbled when Sam asked if he liked how the tattoo tasted. He'd liked the taste of Sam's mouth, and the taste of his skin wasn't far behind. He lifted his head, his eyebrows arched a little, at Sam's next remark. "Why, what would they smell like?" he asked, a hint of barely contained patience in his tone. He kept wondering if Sam really wanted to do this, or if it was just his nature to crack jokes the entire time.
"Just... Flavor," Sam murmured, not really knowing where he was going with that comment. "It probably shouldn't depend on the tattoo though, I don't think skulls would taste good." He took a deep breath, knowing full well he was rambling when he probably shouldn't be. No, definitely shouldn't be. The knowing didn't seem to reach his mouth though and he continued. "The flowers would smell good, maybe, but probably not taste good and you'd be scratching me a lot which, you know, not really my thing." He pressed his lips together, looking a little apologetic.