Moon Eyes.
A little one shot starring Sam. Sam rescues a friend, you, from one of Maryann' parties and gets a little more thanks than he bargained for.
The kitchen is dimly lit by a dying candle on the window ledge and you absently notice the light from the moon highlighting the edges of the stone tiles on the floor. Against the refrigerator a couple are stroking and caressing each others faces, suddenly curious you begin to walk towards them. They notice you and turn their heads in your direction. Their eyes startle you and you gasp and step backward. They are glazed over, black, with no discernable pupils or irises. Their blackness reflecting the moonlight. "Moon eyes" you think. You stumble backward, shocked, into a body standing behind you. Your attention turns to him behind you and you twirl around to face him. "Their eyes," you whisper, "Sam, their eyes!" And in an instant it is as if you feel you are flying. Everything slows down and sensations become enhanced. Then everything darkens and a haze drops over your view. Though your actions are your own, your inhibitions drop in an instant and you feel released and set free.
Before you, though, stands Sam Merlotte, ever dependable, ever loving and always there for you. You trust him, even though you've only known him for a short time. You met him in Merlotte's Bar and Grill, his bar, when you came in for a drink and a bite to eat one lazy afternoon as you were passing by. Your eyes had met across a pitcher of ice tea and you instantly felt a connection with this rugged, slightly older than you guy. Since then you had been firm friends, but never more.
You had made other friends in the parish of Bon Temps and when one of Sam's customers had told you to come to this party here at this gorgeous mansion, with this pool, this fruit and all these people, you had jumped at the chance to enjoy yourself once again. You had looked around and you had seen people enjoying themselves a little too much. Too much drink and dancing and several people were starting their after party celebrations early. You weren't sure you wanted to witness that and so you'd aimed for the exit. You'd found yourself here in the kitchen and now you were looking at the face of a man you had been growing deep affection for, and you were intimately tracing the contours of his face with your fingertip.
"Their eyes," you repeat again, and everything is suddenly in slow motion as you feel your knees buckle under you. Sam is swiftly there, his hand gently cupping your head to brace the impact of the fall. But still the slow motion persists and you find yourself defying gravity as time slows down. Your back eventually reaches the floor and instead of hurting you, it cushions you; you feel no collision force despite the stone flooring. Sam's eyes look down on you with concern. You smile broadly at him where he lays above you. His body unyielding against your own; you can feel him, his weight comfortably pressing onto you. Your fingertips move to trace his face again, examining every detail of his facial structure with care and affection. You brush a finger against his lips and your eyes meet. His are glowing with anticipation and you feel that familiar encouraging warmth in the depths of your belly that then rushes towards your thighs. You shift your legs beneath him and his hips nestle snuggly inbetween. You wrap them around his waist. He is surprised, but already equipped for you. You reach up, running your fingers through his thick hair. You pull him to you and teasingly brush your lips gently across his, time and time again until finally you capture his lips with your own.
THE END
