This set during the season 3 Premiere. I hope I'm not the only one who was disappointed when Sam's dream ended so early!. This is very much M rated, but if you're old enough to be watching True blood on TV without a chaperone, then you're old enough to be reading this. This is slash complete with some non-con, so if that's not your thing, leave now.
I am also aware that this is not the first fic to be written about this scene. However I haven't read any of them, so any resemblance is coincidental. Reviews are very much welcome.
Sam had fallen asleep that night in his cheap motel with great difficulty. As his quest to find his birth family progressed, more and more he felt the blood pound in his veins, surging and tingling with a trace of adrenaline. Every moment he got closer he could feel his skin tingle in a combination of nerves and anticipation. His desire to find his kin was like a kid waiting for Christmas, but tinged with the feeling of sour milk in his stomach. He was on the cusp of something he had yearned for his whole life, but he knew that the people he would find might not be the people he wanted.
It was with the blood pounding in his ears and the unease settled in his gut that he opened the door to the slightly emaciated form of Bill Compton. The sour milk feeling twisted and changed, sending unfamiliar bolts of electricity from his gut straight to his groin. Sam found himself asking Bill why he was here and how he found him, not really caring about the answers Bill supplied them anyway, his voice both dark and sensual
"You've had my Blood Sam, an awful lot of it." Sam's mind tried to compute this statement, but it was otherwise occupied by his growing internal conflict whether to back away or to move closer.
The Vampire seemed set to settle that conflict for him, however, as he stalked forward gracefully. His eyes flickered over Sam's form as if he owned it, seemingly prepared to drink in the blood and feast on the flesh. Sam could feel each place Bill's eyes touched as if they were lazers, burning the surface of his skin. He found himself surrendering his shirt to the taller man, almost not of his own free will. "Nice", he heard, and a little voice in the back of his head was screaming at it him to run far and fast, but the blood pounding in his ears was drowning it out, and he didn't know if was left over from his tortured thoughts before sleep, or if his new companion was the source of such a heartbeat. Almost involuntarily, Sam's eyes came to rest on Bill's pale chest, now that his own was exposed. Compton's gaze flickered across Sam's hair covered chest in turn, resting briefly on each nipple, before wandering lazily up and down the sides of his neck. That gaze finally drifted downwards to the line of hair that began just below his belly button that led directly to the shape shifter's crotch, where an erection was starting to strain painfully at his jeans. His gaze was hungry and Sam couldn't tell if Bill was lusting for his body or his blood. The adrenaline that had been masked by the sourness of his stomach came to the fore, causing his breathing to hitch and his skin to tingle. The pounding of blood through his almost caused him to miss the vampire's next statement, but it rumbled forward like a train on tracks, inevitable and unstoppable.
"... Unless you'd like to join me"
The words dropped out of Bill Compton's mouth and straight into Sam's throat. He swallowed them slowly, with much difficultly. Each syllable swam through his body straight to his groin. The vampire's eyes returned to Sam's face and he suddenly felt like he was drowning in that gaze. He was helpless, hopeless, and trapped. There was nothing he could do but to let the vampire grasp his hand and lead him slowly to the shower, never breaking his gaze. Bill's fingers were cold and smooth in contrast to Sam's which felt like they were on fire.
The shower went on and both men were naked. Sam found himself pushed up against the back wall, water cascading over Bill's shoulders and onto his own chest and face. Sam was fully hard now, but so was his companion, whose hands and lips began to claim all the places his eyes had earmarked. Bill began to kiss the sides of Sam's neck, and he shuddered, suddenly certain that the vampire was going to open his veins and kill him at any moment but he couldn't find it in himself to push the other man away, and settled for resting his hands on the pale chest in front of him, fingers tangled in Bill's own chest hair. The flesh beneath his hands was cold as well, but hot water from the shower was falling across that cold chest in rivulets, running over the backs of his hands in scalding trails, providing a stark contrast with the marble stillness his hands pressed against. Bill's own hands were busy as well, starting at Sam's ribs and groping over his pectorals, only to move downwards the nails of his fingers scraping almost brutally over Sam's nipples. The shape shifter's breath hitched in his throat and he felt the lips there smile wickedly before pointed fangs were being lightly dragged up and down the sides of Sam's throat, leaving tiny, angry red scratches in their wake, not yet drawing blood. Sam's eyes rolled back in his head as he drowned in this new sensation, the pain serving as a delicious contrast to the motions of Bill's hands. His hands flexed unconsciously against the broad expanse of pale chest, his own fingernails seeking purchase in the vampire's skin.
Compton's hands weren't done with him yet as they trailed down his abdomen to the arousal present there. Cold hands dripping hot water gripped his shaft, alternately squeezing gently and stroking. Sam couldn't help himself and groaned, squeezing his eyes shut tightly to enjoy the sensation, part of him still struggling in disgust and wonder with the person providing him with it. The water from the shower splashed over Bill's shoulders with each motion, providing a staccato counterpoint to the deep base rhythm he set with his hands. Sam could feel his pulse keeping time to the whole composition. Bill's free hand gripped Sam's wrist and began to drag it down until Sam's hand rested over the vampire's member, as if demanding acknowledgment, not allowing Sam to drift into a different fantasy. Bill continued his stroking and used the free hand to brace himself on the shower wall, nipping his fangs across Sam's neck to re-enforce the reminder. The jolt of pleasure this caused made Sam moan again, and he began to stroke Bill, tentatively at first then harder with growing confidence, keeping in time with the pace set by his own beating heart. Sam's breath began to grow ragged, adding rough vocals that echoed strangely through the shower with each cold/hot stroke, and his knees began to sag as he felt the pressure begin to build, the composition reaching its crescendo. Bill's body pressed forward into his, supporting his legs with his own, their knuckles brushing up against each other as they continued their strokes, now more frantic. Sam could feel Bill's head lift from the crux of his shoulder with a grunt as the dark haired man pushed to support the pair more fully, and more marble cold flesh pressed against Sam's.
Sam groaned and his head rolled forward. The water from shower now blocked entirely by Compton's torso, and ran down his legs in scalding rivulets. He was still struggling to remain upright when he finally opened his eyes. There staring back at him were the eyes of a vampire. Not Bill Compton, the genial man he had come to know, but a hungry animal, intent on consuming him completely. Those eyes burned intent on consuming him totally. He desperately wanted to look away and his own strokes faltered, but he was trapped by the animalistic gaze. The beast bared its fangs and let out a guttural snarl as Sam's hand began to halt its motions. The brightness of the bathroom around them grew dark, and Sam felt like the blood had drained from him entirely, leaving his body locked in fear. He wanted to struggle, cry for help, anything. The vampire still had his hand over Sam's manhood - no longer moving but gripping it almost too tightly. He paused momentarily before he released it and shoved Sam face first against the tiled wall with a vicious snarl. His arms were twisted cruelly and painfully up behind his back, his breath coming in shallow pants now.
Bill's other hand wrenched at Sam's buttocks, and Sam felt the sudden cruel intrusion of one of the vampire's fingers. He cried out in pain, and got an angry growl in response, while his wrists were wrenched more firmly against his back. A second finger was added, painfully stretching him out. They began to move and Sam whimpered as he felt a tingle of unfamiliar, unwanted arousal start up again in his nether regions. He gave a soft cry as the arousal got stronger, feeling himself come to the edge again while not knowing why. He unconsciously began to rub himself against the tiles in time with the intruding motion. He heard the vampire growl again and suddenly the two fingers were ripped from him, leaving an aching, painful emptiness. He felt something altogether bigger pressing at his entrance.
"N -no! Stop!" He cried finally, desperately wiggling to get away, all his strength inexplicably drained from him. The pressing was firmer and more insistent, and Compton's knees pressed into him, holding him still, a hand snaking around his hips to keep him there. The entire world shrank down to the cold tiled wall in front of him, the cold predator behind him, and scalding lines of water from the shower. Everything else seemed to go dark and still, the only sound a familiar patter of water from the motel shower. Sam felt a prickle of breath by his ear as the Vampire began to speak, low, and rough.
"There is no 'Stop' Sam Merlotte. You took my blood Sam, You took an awful lot of my blood," He paused, stilling Sam's struggles again, " And I own you Sam Mer-lotte." He said his name slowly and deliberately, and this time the syllables of 'Merlotte' lodged in his chest like iron slugs.
There was a moment of still, time enough for the vampire's words to sink in before Sam felt him surge upwards and bite downwards simultaneously. It was the most horrible pain clashing with the sweetest pleasure, the Vampire's bite contriving to turn the awfull tearing into something altogether less painful and more gut wrenching. Blood splashed against the tiled walls before his eyes in an altogether too vivid red splash at the same time his testicles contracted, and a guttural cry left his throat...
...Waking him up. He pushed off his bed sheets, sweating and shaking uncontrollably. A stickiness about his thighs indicated to him that he had in fact found a release of some kind but this was of no comfort. He ran his hands shakily across his eyes in an effort to calm himself.
The phone rang and he hesitated before picking it up.
"Hello? Mr. Merlotte? I hope I didn't wake you, "a woman's voice sounded across the line.
"No, you didn't miss, But I sure wish you had."