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Mark Sheppard ([info]musicallife) wrote in [info]tensor,
@ 2011-02-23 22:09:00

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Entry tags:mark_sheppard, sam_guthrie

Sam


He wasn't sure what time it was, but it was late enough that Mark had the common room to himself. He sat perched on the back of the couch, swinging his legs and feeling morose despite the full glass of milk and freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. He just couldn't shake the strange, empathetic loneliness he felt every time he thought about his roommate--or the white hot whine of fear that the same thing could happen to him at any moment.

One minute, drinking milk. The next...boom.

He sighed and set the glass aside, drawing up a leg to rest his chin on his knee, shoulders hunched. He needed someone to come join him, distract him. He needed touch. Mark glanced toward the door, swinging his leg, chewing on his bottom lip, willing someone to step through.

Another five minutes and he'd be sneaking into Santo's room again, bothering the other boy for yet another night. He didn't want to be a pest, but he needed...something.



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[info]after_burners
2011-02-27 05:14 am UTC (link)
That got another strangled noise, and Sam's fingers curling slightly where they were still buried in Mark's hair. At the same time he braced his feet farther apart and managed to rock his hips carefully up into the heat and friction of Mark against him.

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[info]musicallife
2011-03-01 03:17 am UTC (link)
"Mmm," he murmured, rubbing up against Sam sinuously, like a big, affectionate cat. "You feel good."

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[info]after_burners
2011-03-01 03:52 am UTC (link)
Words. He could manage words. Really. Except he was having a whole lot of trouble focusing past how amazing it felt to have Mark pressed against him, warm and soft and pliant except where the hard ridge of his cock was anything but soft.

"So good," he managed to rasp, a remarkably inarticulate echo as he tightened his grip on his ass and ground against him with more purpose.

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