"Wings? Wings? Are you freaking kidding me?" Jack rubs an irritated hand through his greying hair. Greying, he thinks, in part because of a particular archaeologist who is currently sitting shirtless on the infirmary bed in front of him, watching him pace with a guilty look on his face, and two big honkin' angel wings just visible over his shoulders.
"Yes sir. It seems like when the Serapai said they wanted to, uh, 'bless Daniel with the gifts of their people', they weren't just talking about the scrolls they gave us." Carter shrugs from her position standing at Daniel's bedside, a comforting hand resting on his shoulder.
Jack eyes her. Her clothes are rumpled and her hair's a mess, but he supposed it was lucky the two kids were both pulling an all-nighter and were still on base when this happened. He couldn't imagine how they'd have managed to sneak a winged archaeologist out of his house and into a secret underground military base at four in the goddamn morning without freaking out the neighbours.
Jack sighs again and looks to the one person in the room who he hopes will help him make sense of it all. "Doc?"
She eyes him carefully, almost as if afraid of his reaction. "Well, I still have a lot more tests to run, but, as far as I can tell, this seems to be a fully integrated and functioning part of Daniel's anatomy. What I don't know yet is if it's, uh, permanent." She turns her gaze to her patient's current predicament. "Daniel, was there anything weird that happened on the mission? Did you eat or drink anything unusual? Any possibility you were exposed to something? Something in the air maybe?"
Daniel thinks for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "Nothing that nobody else was."
"Daniel Jackson, I believe you are forgetting that you entered the temple to receive the scrolls, while we were to wait outside." Jack had almost forgotten Teal'c was in the room; the Jaffa so still and so silent that he almost blends right into the tiles.
"Oh, right. Well, I suppose..." Daniel frowns down at himself, his lips pursing like they do whenever he is about to lecture Jack about something. Or when Jack is being annoying. Or dumb. Or sarcastic. Or just in the same room, really.
"But the Serapai are a peaceful people. Plus, we've just finished brokering an alliance – they wouldn't have risked losing what we're offering to pull a stunt like this. They need the medicine too much. There must have been some misunderstanding. They can't have known this would happen." Daniel rubs a hand over his tired-looking eyes; white feathers ruffle behind him as he lifts his arm.
Jack shifts his gaze to Teal'c, who stares right back at him in silent understanding; the Jaffa giving a slight bow of his head. "Right, well. I guess we're off to interrogate some angels then." Jack declares cheerfully, rubbing his hands together.
Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose. "They're not angels, Jack. They're a divergent subspecies of volant mammals, and their history predates Abrahamic religions."
Jack flutters a hand at him, noting the wry twist to Carter's lips as he rolls his eyes. "Whatever, we're still gonna have to go back there and get them to hocus-pocus you back to a normal, non-volant mammal."
"Oh, get as many samples as you can. Soil, water, air-"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, I got it." Jack interrupts the Doc's tirade, "This ain't my first ingested-something-weird-on-an-alien-planet rodeo." Janet only smiles at him belligerently, her eyes narrowing, and Jack's pretty sure he just wrangled himself the big needle at his next check-up.
Jack quickly turns away before the tiny doctor does more than just glare at him. "C'mon Tee, back to fairy-land, I guess." He casts a last, cursory glance over his winged friend, watching Carter crane her neck back to stare at the newfound feathery appendages. He rounds the corner with a shake of his head, Teal'c following diligently behind like a looming shadow. "Man, how am I supposed to break this to Hammond? Wings, Teal'c, wings!"
O – O – O – O – O
Janet shuts the door with a snap when the Colonel finally leaves. He was a good man at heart, she knew, but boy, sometimes she just wanted to grab an 18-guage needle and...
"Anyway," Janet shakes the little fantasy out of her head and picks up her pen and clipboard, scrolling down her list of notes to remind herself of what she was doing before the Colonel barged in. "Back to the symptoms. So, no fever, vomiting, lethargy..." Daniel shakes his head and Janet casts a concerned glance over the soft-spoken doctor. "Are you still in any pain?"
"No, not like before. Just some, ah, mild discomfort, I guess." Daniel shrugs, but winces when the movement causes the folded crests to shift forwards. Janet takes pity on him and plucks a bottle of painkillers from the medicine cabinet, slapping them pointedly into his palm. She knows he likely won't take them, but at least she tried.
Janet goes back to her notes. "Were you doing anything out of the ordinary when they first started to, uh, sprout?" She's answered with silence and glances up from her clipboard, confused. She catches Daniel eyeing Sam, who, instead, is staring very determinedly at the far corner of the room. Daniel's cheeks tinge toward pink and Janet quickly tries to drag her eyebrows back down from her hairline before either of them notice that she's noticed.
"Erm no, no," Daniel's voice is a mite higher than it ought to be, and he clears his throat before continuing, "just, er, working in my lab. I thought it was just a backache from being bent over the books all day so I took some Tylenol around midnight but, well, it just got worse from there." His gaze is on her clipboard, his shoes, the tray by the bed; anywhere but her face, and Janet forces her expression into a frown so that she doesn't smile.
"Hmm, okay, well, I'll have your blood tests back in a few hours, but I'd also like to have a wing sample analysed, if that's okay?" Daniel finally meets her gaze, slight panic in his eyes, and she hurries to clarify. "No, nothing drastic; just a small feather will do. It won't hurt – it's like plucking a hair."
Daniel nods half-heartedly. "Yeah, sure. Go ahead."
Janet picks up another sample vial from the tray and her tweezers, and chooses a small, downy feather along the arch of the folded wing. She pinches the feather near its base and give it a sharp, quick yank.
The bespeckled linguist emits a high-pitched noise, somewhere between a scream and a yelp, and flinches away. "Ow!" He whines, reaching up to gingerly rub the spot where she'd plucked him. "That is not like pulling a hair."
Janet grins at him sheepishly, placing the absconded feather into the sample vial. "Sorry, I guess the area is more vascular than I thought." She pops the vial on the tray with the other blood samples to be sent off for testing, and steps around Sam to study his new appendages from behind. "Interesting though; they seem to be highly sensitized. I wonder what the practical use for that is..." Almost absently, she runs the tip of her pen down the long, sleek feathers.
Daniel almost jumps off the bed. "S-sorry, that, uh, tickles." He stutters, blushing furiously, and Janet walks away under pretence of delivering his test samples to the nurses' station to hide her laughter.
She contorts her face back into a more professional expression when she returns. "Now." She stares at him thoughtfully, her finger tapping against her pursed lips. "How to get you to fit through an MRI machine..."
O – O – O – O – O
It takes 18 hours and much pleading with both Janet and Hammond before they let him go home, and even then, it was only because Sam managed to convince them that she would ensure he would be basically under house arrest. The General begrudgingly agrees to release Daniel into her custody, counting on her sensibility, but really, Sam has an ulterior motive for wanting to get the archaeologist alone. She needs answers, and she needs them now.
Sam glances at him surreptitiously out of the corner of her eye. He's been mostly silent the whole car ride over, but she hasn't missed the way he's been fidgeting in his seat, clearly in some discomfort. They'd borrowed one of Teal'c's trenchcoats to steal away under the cover of darkness, stuffing the ivory wings out of sight and resorting to tucking the longest feathers into his pants. It was unlikely that they'd run into anybody at this hour, but if they did, worst case they'd assume he was some sort of hunchback. A cartoon vision of a hunched Quasimoto dancing with the beautiful Esmerelda flickers through Sam's mind, and she shakes her head to clear that strange thought. She was definitely on the wrong side of tired.
Her gaze drifts over to Daniel again. He must be just as exhausted as she is. Neither of them had slept yet, too busy pouring over the scrolls and the data Sam collected in search of something, anything, that would aid Janet in manufacturing a cure for the virus inflicting the Serapai people. All those poor children, suffering...
Sam drags her mind away from that heavy thought as they arrive at Daniel's house. She looks over at him as she shuts off the engine, but he turns away instead, opening the car door to awkwardly slip out. He still doesn't say anything as they make their way inside, and by the time they reach the living room, Sam's ready explode.
Daniel hovers awkwardly for a moment, shifting on his feet, before finally breaking the silence. "I'm, ah, I'm gonna go take a shower."
She gives him a look, her eyebrow rising. "How?"
Daniel's surprise quickly turns into a frown as he mulls over the difficulties. "Oookay then. A bath?" He moves to pass her and head back down the hall, but she can't let him leave without answers. "Daniel, wait."
She reaches out and catches his elbow, realising, too late, the mistake she's made. He's now far too close; the trenchcoat is unbuttoned and she's face to face with his bare chest, the heat and scent of his skin like a punch to the gut. The muscles in his chest, back and shoulders are far more prominent than before, courtesy of his new airborne mobility. The light from the kitchen plays across his skin, and Sam has a hard time resisting the urge to reach out and run her fingers along the defined lines.
She realises she's staring and hurriedly releases his arm, heat rising to her face like a fresh sunburn. She drags her eyes back up to his, noticing with some satisfaction that at least he is having as hard a time remembering how to breathe as she is. Her mouth is dry and she swallows hard, her tongue darting out to wet her lips before she speaks. "Why?"
Daniel shuts his eyes as if in pain and takes two steps back, and Sam is secretly relieved as oxygen returns to her brain. "Sam, I-I don't know what to say..." He trails off, his eyes darting around as if searching for some distraction to save him, before they finally land on her. "I'm so sorry. I-I don't know what came over me. I was just... I was tired, you were tired, and we were reading through all those accounts of the sick kids, and you were just so upset, and-and I just..."
"Kissed me." Sam finishes for him. He winces as if she's slapped him, and his gaze drops to his bare feet. "I, uh, I didn't mean to, it just..."
"Happened."
He nods, still not quite looking at her, and Sam touches her fingertip to her lips as they tingle at the recollection. "That was one hell of a kiss for an accident." Sam whispers dazedly, her skin already heating up at the memory of his tongue tasting hers and his hands in her hair. He does look up at her then, curiosity dancing in those bright, sapphire eyes, and Sam quickly shoves her hands into her pockets, the tips of her ears burning.
Sam clears her throat, glancing out over the kitchen to avoid the intensity of those eyes. "Y'know what, why don't I, uh, order us some food while you go take that shower, or bath, or whatever."
He seems to relax, the tension fading from his shoulders as she not-so-subtlety steers the conversation in a much safer direction. "Yeah, good idea." He nods, wetting his lips, "There's a takeout menu stuck to my fridge."
Sam nods once, trying to keep her thoughts civilised as she watches him amble down the hallway and disappear into his bedroom. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Carter." She mutters to herself, shrugging out of her jacket and scuttling to the kitchen to distract herself with the task of ordering them some dinner. She couldn't honestly say she'd never thought of Daniel in that way before; he was an attractive man after all – and intelligent, and kind, and funny, and smelt good – focus, Carter. But he'd been married when they met, and then lost his wife so tragically that Sam assumed he'd never look at anyone that way again, least of all her. But, oh, that kiss...
He was right; she had been tired, and upset, and frustrated that they weren't making any progress, and he'd sat beside her and put an arm around her shoulders and comforted her, like he'd always done. But then he'd cupped her cheek, turning her face towards his, and the look in his eyes was something she definitely hadn't seen before. And then he'd kissed her. And clearly it broke something in Sam's brain because any rational thoughts fled and all she could do was respond in kind. Then he'd leapt away with a yell, bent double in pain, and this whole weird mess had started.
"Uhhh, Sam?" She hears Daniel call somewhat uncertainly, breaking her from her daydream. "I might, uhh, need your help."
Curious, she pads down the hall and pokes her head into his room.
Daniel is standing in his boxers by the bed. He's managed to get his arms out of the trenchcoat, but the collar is hooked around the tops of his wings, and no matter which way he twists and turns, he can't quite reach.
"I can't..." He mutters, pausing, his brow creased in frustration. Sam tries not to smile at how cute he looks, and goes to help him.
"Here, bend down." She's much too short to reach with him standing up, and she grabs his shoulders to bend him towards her. She carefully unhooks the coat from around his wings, making sure not to catch on anything.
"Thanks." He says, straightening. He rolls his shoulders, making his wings flutter, and he stretches them out a little. Sam's heart stutters involuntarily; the Serapai they'd met had wings of all different sizes, shapes and colours, but none seemed as majestic as these. And none seemed to affect her the way Daniel's did. She reaches out to run her fingers along the downy feathers, as if in a trance, and is startled when Daniel flinches and gasps.
"Oh, sorry, I forgot they were ticklish." She says, snapping out of her stupor.
"No, it's okay, it just... feels weird." He shrugs, placating her with a half-smile. He reaches behind him with a grunt, trying to rub at the newly built muscles over his shoulder.
Sam frowns, taking pity on him. "Does it hurt still? Janet said you might have some muscle soreness."
He exhales a caustic laugh. "Yeah, you could say that."
Sam ducks around a wing to examine his back, wanting to help ease his pain. She only hesitates for a second, her hands hovering, before she smooths them over his skin. She presses her thumbs into the muscle around his shoulder blade, surprised by how firm it is, and works at the tension there. She notices his head drop to his chest, his arms relaxing to his sides, and is quietly pleased with herself.
She smooths her hands over the joint where his wings meet his back, cupping the protrusion and rubbing her fingers along the skin and she hears him grunt quietly. She moves slowly up to the top of his shoulders, his wings extending out further to allow her to reach. She feels her own skin heating, the pulse in her neck faster than it should be, and for a second she thinks maybe she shouldn't be crossing this line, but she rubs over the upper part of his wing joint, and the low groan he gives out ensures that she doesn't really care.
She moves her hands along the strong shaft of his wing, the feathers soft and small as they transition from skin, and she hears him gasp lightly. She continues upward, rubbing in small circles with her fingers and kneading with her thumbs. Biting her lip, she strokes one hand all the way down to the tip, pleased when he shudders.
"Ah, Sam, wait..." His voice is low and breathy, and she knows she should probably stop, but the way he just said her name makes heat pool in places that shouldn't be heating. Softly, she runs her fingers down through his feathers, like she's been wanting to do since she first saw them.
"Ah!" Daniel gasps, dropping forward to the bed, his arms catching him. His wings spread out further, giving her more room to play, and she takes advantage of it. She steps closer now that he's bent forward, kneading at the base of a wing with one hand, the other running over the feathers; the soft sighs and moans he's making setting her skin on fire.
She can feel the heat in her face, hear her heart beating in her ears, and as before, when he first kissed her, all thoughts seem to fly out of Sam's head, and she gives in to pure sensation. He's started a fire within her with that kiss, stoking something she didn't know was there, and now she has to follow it to wherever it leads.
She steps around to the end of his wing, brushing her fingers along the tips of the feathers and letting them tickle her palm. He turns his head to her now that she's back in his line of sight; a beautiful, crimson blush spreads across his face, and when she drags her gaze down his sculpted body, she can see why.
A well-sized outline strains against his boxers, and Daniel's blush darkens further when he notices that she's noticed. "S-Sam, I, uh..."
She can tell he's about to pull away from her, his wings sagging, and she has to let him know how much she wants this. She takes gentle hold of his wing tip, and softly runs it over her face, down her cheek, across her lips. Daniel groans, his eyes glued to her movements. "Sam?" He breathes; concerned, unsure, and Sam wants to wipe the fear from his face.
She turns her face back and forth, rubbing her lips over the silky plumage, then lets it trail down her neck, over her clavicle, across her chest. She shivers as it tickles the tops of her breasts, a soft sigh escaping her as her skin erupts in goosebumps. Daniel is panting; his cheeks rosy and his eyes glazed. His hips rock slightly, forwards and backwards, and a thrill shoots down Sam's spine and directly to her groin as she imagines being laid out on the bed before him.
Slowly, Sam slips the straps of her singlet down over her shoulders, exposing the thin, lace bra beneath, and she hears Daniel groan from deep in his chest. He curls his wing towards her, allowing the edge to scrape across her skin. Her head falls back, her lips parting in a moan as the feathers brush over her nipples, making them pull taut.
"Ugnh, Sam." She hears Daniel's breathy groan, and she presses a handful of feathers against her, rubbing them over her sensitive skin.
"Ah, god..." His hands clutch at the bedspread, and Sam reaches up to stroke along the wingshaft.
"Sam!"
Suddenly, Daniel's wings explode outward into their full glory, spanning the width of the room and knocking over a lamp. He gives a strangled yell; his spine curved and his hands fisting in the sheets, his eyes screwed shut tight.
Sam releases him, letting his wings sag as he melts; a dark patch slowly seeping into the cotton of his blue and white boxers. He looks up at her; his eyes so dark they're almost black, and his gaze so intense Sam wonders if she should check her skin for scorch marks. His chest heaves as he pants, his skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat. His face is flushed and his lower lip red and bitten and he looks so beautiful, so provocative, so utterly wrecked that it makes Sam lose her breath.
His wings begin to fold back in, ruffling as they settle against his back, and he straightens. He bites down into his bottom lip, suddenly nervous, and Sam wants to take it into her mouth and soothe her tongue over the teeth marks.
"I, uh... I don't... I'm sor... uh..."
She quickly crosses the few steps between them, and his stuttering dies away as she draws in close enough to feel the heat radiating from his skin; close enough that their panting breaths mingle, their lips a hair apart. But she doesn't kiss him. Not yet. Instead, she takes his hand, twining her fingers over his, and guides it towards her, relishing the feel of his fingers on her skin. His breath hitches as their hands slip below her waistline, needing to show him that she enjoyed that as much as he did. They moan in tandem as his fingers brush over where she wants him most. Her eyes flutter closed, and a nanosecond later, his lips claim hers.
It's not at all soft and slow like their first kiss was; it's needy, desperate, and frantic. Her hands reach up to cup his face, fingers sliding into his hair to pull him closer. His finger presses more firmly against her, and when she gasps, his tongue delves into her defenceless mouth. It swoops across hers, roaming, wrestling, laying claim, and she gladly reciprocates. His finger moves in slow circles, and she has to break the kiss to moan, burying her face in the crook of his neck. His lips find her ear, her pulse point, her shoulder, nipping, sucking, laving at the flesh, and she's a writhing ball of need in his expert hands.
He pulls his hands and lips from her skin, and she mewls at the loss. He cups her face gently, pausing for a moment in their frantic need to look deeply into her eyes, searching for something; any trace of uncertainty, or reluctance. But he would find none.
"Sam, I just... I need you to know..."
"I know." She interrupts softly, watching as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead.
"You know?"
"Well," she shrugs one shoulder, "I know now."
He nods slowly, his face softening. "I just don't want you to think... I mean, I want you to be sure..."
"Daniel?" She interrupts again, gently removing his glasses and taking his face between her palms. "Me too." She grins when his breath catches in his throat, and his cobalt eyes sparkle as his grin matches hers, and she can't believe she's spent so long not seeing him this way.
Daniel presses his lips to hers again, softer this time, sweeter; their mouths meeting again and again, testing, tasting, exploring. His hands encircle her waist, palms warm against her skin, and they roam over her back, up, up, until he reaches the lace of her bra. He has the clasp undone in one swift movement; so quick, in fact, that she pulls back to quirk an eyebrow at him. He only smirks in return.
The lace slips down her arms and Daniel drags his lips over her skin, leaving a trail of fire as they meander south. His tongue is hot as he traces the curve of her breast, circling inward, and she clutches at his hair to pull him closer, needing his mouth more to the right... almost... no!
He gives her a gentle shove, and she falls back onto the bed, groaning at the sudden loss. He grins at her pout, kneeling on the bed and caging her head with his arms as he leans down to capture the jutting lip, and Sam decides she rather likes this assertive Daniel.
Her skin feels superheated; every touch, every caress leaving her gasping. He slides down her body, his mouth finally claiming a nipple, and her back arches as she presses closer, needing more of him, needing all of him. She tangles her hands in his soft hair, but soon finds a better target. His wings flutter as he moves, unravelling from their neatly tucked position, and she reaches up to run her hands along the strong curves. He groans against her breast, and she can feel him already hardening against her thigh. She carefully stores this vital piece of information away for later abuse.
His fingers work deftly at her belt, and she lifts her hips to allow him to free her legs. He drops the pants to the floor and pauses, drinking her in. Impatient, Sam raises up onto her elbows, an eyebrow lifting. She can see his adam's apple bob in the dim light of the broken lamp, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "I never thought that I would... That you would..." He murmurs, and Sam's not sure the words are really meant for her. His eyes flicker back up to hers, and the depth of his gaze causes her pulse to flutter. "You are... so beautiful, Sam."
Her breath catches; her brain not quite working well enough to come up with a response, but then, his fingers are tugging at her underwear, his hands and lips blazing a trail of fire up her thighs, and all thought of comprehensible words flee her mind as he lowers his mouth to taste her.
Sam cries out, her hands fisting in the sheets above her head as his tongue traces the Hieratic alphabet between her legs. Her spine arches off the bed, her face tingling as all sensation focusses to a single point on her lower body. She watches as his wings lift, almost scraping the ceiling as they fold towards her, and in Sam's hazy and overstimulated brain, it feels like she's falling into them. The feather-tips drag over her sensitized skin, and almost immediately, she comes undone. Like a frayed thread being pulled, she unravels; her limbs shaking, her hips undulating, her muscles coiling tight until she explodes, and all she can see is white feathers.
Daniel surfaces, wiping his mouth across his arm, muscles flexing as he slides up onto the bed beside her. He props up his head with one hand, the other gliding up to lay flat across her stomach; dark eyes intently studying her, pensive, as she struggles to remember how to breathe.
She rolls towards him, tracing her fingers along the strong line of his jaw. "What are you thinking about?" She whispers, her touch trailing from jaw to lips, to chin, to throat, to clavicle, to pectorals.
"You." His voice is husky when he answers, and it draws her gaze from his firm chest back up to his face. "I've been thinking about you for a long time, Samantha Carter."
Her name on his lips sends a thrill down her spine and causes her heart to stutter. Her eyes close as his fingertips graze her cheek, and she stretches up to kiss him. His arm wraps around her waist, drawing her closer, their limbs entwining, and she can feel him coming to life against her hip. She slides her leg over his and shifts her weight until she's straddling him. She rolls her hips; once, twice, helping him along, and his chest vibrates beneath her palms when he growls.
He sits up suddenly, holding her tighter now, and their kisses deepen and magnify. Sam reaches between them to shove away the last piece of clothing, setting him free against her backside. She rocks her hips back, needing more, and a tiny noise of surprise escapes her when she realises the size of him. She breaks from their kiss, pulling back slightly to brace her hands on his shoulders, her mouth forming a silent "O" as she slowly takes him in. He releases a stuttering groan as she sinks down, his hands gripping her thighs. Her forehead falls against his with a grunt once she's fully seated, her arms wrapping around his neck as she takes a moment to acclimatise. She lifts up again slowly, and then falls back down, and they both groan against each other's lips.
Their mouths seek out the other's as Sam sets a slow and steady pace; hands grabbing, grazing, groping. She's aware that she'll be deliciously sore tomorrow, but he fills her so completely that she loses her breath a little more with each thrust, until she's gasping. She circles her hips, seeking more friction, and his lips vibrate against her throat when he groans. Her hands slide over his shoulders and down his back, groping at the join of his wing, and they spread for her, making her hum with delight as she fondles the downy extremities. His tongue laves at her skin, and his teeth graze over her nipple in retaliation, causing her to cry out.
With a powerful thrust of his wings, Daniel rises to his feet, his fingers digging into her behind as she wraps her legs around him. He tips forward, bracing her with his arms around her back and allowing his hips to snap up into her. Sounds escape her throat as he moves hard and fast, noises she's never made before, and she clings to his neck like it's her only tether to this world. His wings beat in time with his thrusts, pushing him further, deeper, and Sam's blood is so loud in her ears that she can't hear his yells, nor her own screams as pleasure sets her nerves on fire. The pressure builds until she's a collapsing star, a ball of nuclear fusion being torn apart – a supernova. Her senses seem to overload, her skin tingling with electricity, and she is engulfed by a cloud of white, and soft ivory feathers.
O – O – O – O – O
"Sam?" He asks later, when they've collapsed against the pillows, her finger drawing lazy patterns across his chest while the sweat cools from their skin. "Do you... do you have a-a wing kink?"
Her stunned snort quickly turns into full-blown laughter because, god, maybe she does. But she doesn't say that out loud. Instead, she says, "No, I think I just have a Daniel kink."
A grin slowly spreads across his face; and it's so pure, and so euphoric, and she knows now she never wants to see him look any other way. He tilts his head down to look at her, his fingers trailing up and down her arm, and his wings towering above the bedhead and cradling her close, like the softest down bedding.
The grin melts away and his lips twist into that contemplative expression that she recognises so well. His brow furrows, and he reaches up to cup her cheek. "Sam, I... I just want to say, I understand your position; your rank, your career. I know that there are rules about this sort of thing, a-and I understand if this needs to remain a secret, o-or if you don't want to...to..." Sam's lips purse as if she's listening intently, but her hand has wandered from his chest to stroke over the feathers, her fingers rubbing over the delicate shaft of each one, and she feels him twitch against her leg.
"Sam," he grabs her hand gently and pulls it to his chest, and she shifts her torso onto his to look up at him directly. "The way I feel about you – the way I've always felt about you – it's... ah, I mean, I would never want to jeopardise our friendship, but I need to tell you... and... and if you don't-don't feel the same then I understand, but I... I, uh..."
Sam inches down as he stutters, sliding further under the sheets until she can successfully distract him.
"Oh! Ugn, Sam..." She hears him panting above her and mentally pats herself on the back for her success. "We have to talk about – ah – this eventually, you know – hnnnn, fuck." And normally Sam would reply with an assurance that they would – that they would sit and talk, maybe even over a nice dinner – but right now she couldn't, because Sam had always been taught not to speak with her mouth full, and she was nothing if not polite.