Chapter Seven: Kick, Push
A/N: I wrote this for my friend's birthday, but never published it. So, Happy Extremely-Ridicuously-Belated Birthday, Jackie. This may be late, but you're still cute. Okay, so the last one-shot was a relatively fluffy one, meaning, this one skews towards the crazy side. You know the rules.
Mercedes Jones was a lady. She may have just thrown up in the Fabray's rose garden, but she was still a lady. Her makeup sweated off from a night of drinking and dancing and whatever nefarious behavior she could get away with past curfew. By the time she had crossed the street towards her house, Mercedes pulled up her hair in a messy bun, yanked off her tattered tights and pulled down her skirt to its appropriate length slightly above her knees. Just another Friday night.
So the sound of clatter unnerved her, mixed with the swift speed of wheels clacking on the surface. It almost made her hesitant to climb the fence into her parent's backyard... almost. 2 am was already pushing it, and Linda and Marvin Jones were dumb, but they weren't that dumb. A swing of her leg and a prayer to Jesus, Mercedes dropped and landed in her mother's marigolds. The sound that halted her intensified.
Back to school week meant non-stop partying. The end of Summer. And never was it more symbolic than the draining of the family's swimming pool. No more swimsuits and baby oil and shirtless boys to apply said baby oil.
And that's when it clicked. That noise. Those wheels. That clean sound, not like gravel. Someone was in the pool. Stepping out of her heels for a hushed step, Mercedes tiptoed towards the deep end, only to be greeted by a flying boy. Well, he looked like he was flying. The momentum had the wheels of the skateboard connect to the edge of the pool, before face-planting it onto the surface. Hands outstretched to protect himself, but it was too late.
With a gasp of horror, Mercedes ran down the stairs towards the shallow end and raced towards his side. Blood from his nose painted the bare surface as his skateboard rolled to a halt at the young woman's feet.
"Son of a bitch," he yelled. His knees tucked into his chest as he allowed himself to feel the pain.
"Are you okay?" Mercedes finally spoke. His tuffs of blond hair shook out of his face enough for her to recognize him. "Sam?"
"Yeah?" He groaned out.
"What are you doing at my house?"
"What?" He rolled over to look at her. "Mercedes?"
"Yes. Sam, what the hell are you doing?"
"The hell does it look like I'm doing?"
"Well, whatever it is, you're not doing a good job of it. Your face is a mess."
"That is not helpful."
Mercedes leaned over him and offered her hand. He looked down, crimson-faced at his own.
"Let me look at you." Mercedes pulled him forward. Her small hands cupped his chubby cheeks as she leaned his face towards some light. "It doesn't look that bad. Does it hurt if I do this?" She pinched his nose.
Sam cringed quickly, "Fuck! Aw! Why would you do that?" He exclaimed.
"Will you hush. You'll wake my parents. I didn't feel a crunch, so it's not broken."
The boy cowered.
"Now, why are you in my backyard?" She asked again.
Sam held his nose, forcing a nasal response. "I come here sometimes. To skate. When your parents' lights are on, that usually means they're not home, right?"
"You do this a lot?"
"Not a lot a lot. I mix it up."
Mercedes startled amongst a mental revelation, "The other night, I heard something outside, while I was putting on my nightgown. I heard wheels."
"Okay. Noted, once I realized what was going on, I immediately turned around."
She shoved him. "You asshole."
"To be fair, who gets undressed in front of a window?"
"I do!" Her smacks kept coming, like little pats against his chest.
"Mercedes!"
The young woman cringed at the familiar sound of her name, called with a resounding yell.
"Shit," Mercedes muttered. She grabbed the blond boy's hand and pulled him down towards the deep end of the pool. Hiding them in a corner. "It's my mom."
"You're gonna get into trouble."
She responded with a mild shrug. "I'm used to it."
Sam couldn't help the boyish smirk the crept upon his features.
"Oh, no," Mercedes winced.
The young man swiftly became self-concious. "What? What is it?"
Sam felt the blood from his nose running down the bow of his lip, and so did his realization. "Aw. Sorry." He went to run his long sleeve against his nose when Mercedes stopped him, pulling at his forearm and shaking her head.
"Here." She ruffled through the purse on her arm until she found a loose tissue. "Let me take care of it." She arched his chin under her crooked finger, and dabbed at his bloody nose with the tissue. "Can you breathe?"
He nodded.
"Good," she whispered. She grabbed his nose between the knuckles of her middle and index fingers. "Now, next time you won't be such a creeper, and sneak into my backyard."
"Fine, fine. Alright, alright. I won't sneak anymore. I'm sorry." The pain from his nose left him on his knees, begging.
She released him. "That's what I thought."
The backyard grew quiet. Unbearably so.
"She gave up?" He mused.
"What?"
"Your mom, she gave up. She's not shouting anymore."
"I've been known to wear her down."
"Well, I'd sure like to be on the other side of that."
Mercedes rolled her eyes at his come on. Masking the unexpected flutter in her chest. Sam noticed the change instantly, moving a little closer towards her as his confidence grew.
"So, does that mean if I wanted to come over here, and hang out, I can just ask?"
She fiddled with her purse. Her eyes avoiding his intense, invasive stare. She shrugged, "It's whatever. If you wanted to come by and skate, That's fine Just call first," she muttered.
Her uncharacteristic meekness made his lopsided smirk even out. "What if I didn't want to skate? What if I just wanted to see you?"
"That's unlikely." Mercedes had known Sam and that grin since eighth grade and she wasn't buying it. She was used to seeing him with those plush lips too tongue deep in Santana Lopez to pay attention to the homeroom bell. The thought made her furrow her brow at him in confusion. "What do you want, Sam?"
He shook his head, "Just wanted to talk to you until you told me to fuck off."
With her arms folded, she replied, "Well then, fuck off."
"You really want me to go, Mercedes?" His slow and measured steps resulted in the young woman pinned in the corner of the pool on both sides.
"No." She didn't recognize the small voice she was speaking in with her reply.
"You know, I saw you yesterday..."
Oh, god. She thought. Outside. Behind the cafeteria. Mercedes walked towards her car in the parking lot when she thought she heard a cat the sound, Mercedes was met with a sight she could never un-see. Santana masked by the shield of her wild hair, while the blond boy took her from behind.
At first she was shocked at the audacity of them. Broad daylight where anyone could find them. But that shock soon turned into longing. Wanting to be raptured like that with no care of the consequences. She thought she'd had that with Mike, but the summer turned into autumn, and he'd grown more interested in Tina Cohen-Chang. It was the longing that made her stare at them a little longer than she maybe should have. It was that longing that Sam caught when he looked up and saw Mercedes standing there, and he smiled. He actually fuckin' smiled at her. And that's when she ran.
"Mercedes?" Sam whispered, "Mercedes, you okay?"
Shaken out of her thoughts from the day before, "Yes, I-" She cleared her throat. "I'm okay."
"What were you thinking about?"
"Right now or yesterday?" She demurred.
He shrugged, "Both."
With a long sigh, she thought aloud. "She never said your name."
"What?"
"When you and her were having sex-"
"Fucking."
She tucked the stray loose strand of hair behind her ear, ducking his word. "... Fucking. She never said your name. She called you 'Trouty' a lot. The 'Lisa Rinna' part was a little... peculiar, but she didn't call you Sam. It's a nice name."
"Would you say it?"
"What?"
"Would you say my name?"
Her instinct was to play coy. "I've already said it."
"You know what I mean."
"Do you want me to?"
He looked at her with hooded eyes, and nodded slowly.
Mercedes licked her lips, and it came out in a rasp. "Sam."
He caught her lips with his own before she could say it again. The smack of their moan-filled kisses echoed throughout the pool.
Sam rested his forehead against hers, catching his breath. "Say it again," he murmured.
"Sam," she breathed.
His hands grabbed at her waist, clawing into her soft folds with each lustful mouthful of her. Mercedes ran her fingers through his blond mop of hair. Tugging until she got a resounding whimper.
"Are you gonna fuck me like you did her?"
"No." His hands inched under her skirt until he felt the top of her panties. "I wanna look at you while we do it."
Without a second thought, Mercedes brushed past Sam's hands and pulled down her lace boyshorts, while Sam paused at his jeans. "You sure?"
Without hesitation. "Absolutely."
Sam clawed at his zipper. The young brown girl dug for the condom in her purse that she'd had since August. He snatched it from her hand as she reached to cup his face. Embarrassed by how wet was for him since the start of their conversation, she hid her face into his neck.
"Don't be shy, 'Cedes." He curved his hand beneath her drenched pussy, taking the essence from his fingers into his mouth. "Because I'm not."
With a surge of confidence, Mercedes wrapped a leg around Sam's waist, prompting his entrance. "I'm not shy," she declared. "Fuck me. Now."
He plunged into her wetness, leaving her little time to adjust, allowing her a shocked wheeze. Crying into his shoulder, Mercedes wrapped her arms around him. He rolled his hips at a gentle pace despite her gasps.
She licked at the seem of his lips for him to suck her tongue. The dance of dominance left Sam in the lurch when she pulled away. "Don't go slow," she begged. "I'm here. You've got me. And I want it. Make me come."
The blond boy pressed her harder against the corner of the pool, gripping her other thigh, raising both legs around his waist.
He smiled, "Not because you told me to." His eyes grew surprisingly darker, as he bounce them against his cock with such power and magnitude, Mercedes thought she was being split open.
"Oh, Sam," she mewled.
"Keep saying it. Keep saying that shit."
"Sam. Fuck. Oh god, Sam." The pleasure at each thrust was almost blinding. Shutting her eyes to take it all in.
"Look at me. Mercedes, look at me."
Her brown, doe eyes focused on his. "Keep those pretty eyes open," he instructed. "I wanna see my work."
She nodded, while her full lips remained in a permanent "O" fixture.
"S.. Sam, I'm gonna..."
"Sh.. Come on."
She clenched his member with great urgency, belting his name in euphoria.
"Mercedes," he whispered.
"Fuck, Sam," she cried. Her cream coated the condom. "So good."
"Mercedes!" Her name on the tip of his tongue, but instead heard against the paned glass sliding door from Mercedes' mom, as the young girl reached her peak.
The revery was awash with concern, but not until he finished. She kissed him until he exploded into the rubber. "You okay?" He asked, as he glided himself out of her.
She gave him a gentle smile and a peck on the forehead. "Yeah. It just sounded odd."
"What?"
"My mom. I think I should go in now. See if she's alright." She smiled, "And take my punishment."
Sam reluctantly set her down and cleaned himself off. "Okay. If that's what you want."
"It is." She pulled at his shirt. "But I still would like it if you called me tomorrow. Maybe we could hang out."
He beamed. "I'd really like that."
"Good. Because you're gonna help me scrub down this pool."
He rolled his eyes, "I'm looking forward to it." Punctuating it with a slow, deep kiss.
"Goodnight, Sam." Mercedes picked up her things and sauntered towards the stairs of the pool, when she saw it- a shadowy figure, dressed in a ski mask and hoodie. "Oh, god."
Her heart stopped. Locking her eyes with the masked man, Mercedes' feet turned to stone.
"What's wrong?" Sam walked behind her, catching a glimpse at the terrifying figure. "Go into the house, and call the cops."
She couldn't speak, but she was adamant about not being able to do that. Shaking her head fretfully. Sam rubbed her arms, "You can do it, okay?"
Sam ran up the stairs with his skateboard in hand, as the masked figure jumped the fence. "Stop!" He shouted, jumping the fence behind him.
Reaching around the corner, Sam paused. "Hey!"
"Yeah?" The voice behind the mask responded.
"What did you get?" The blond boy asked.
Removing his hood and mask, the man handed them to Sam. "I told you that family doesn't have shit. We should've started with the Fabrays. The whole fuckin' Summer, I couldn't get past the first floor. Mercedes wouldn't even let me into her room. I got some jewelry. Some silver. We can hock that."
"That's great, Mike." His sarcasm was thick. "I can't pay for my family's motel room with a string of pearls."
"Well, what do you want me to do about it? Dance classes ain't cheap neither."
"Fuck it. Fine. We'll try Quinn's next week."
Mike asked, "How are you gonna distract Quinn?"
Sam shrugged, unsure. "I'll think of something. Meanwhile, I gotta get back. Maybe I can search Mercedes' house then. There's gotta be something. Alright." He jumped up and down to hype himself up. "One hit and watch the mouth."
"Fine." Mike got into his stance, and took a hard swing at the blond. Hitting him directly in the left eye. "That's gonna be a bitch tomorrow."
"Whatever. I'll see you later."
Sam walked around the block towards Mercedes' front door, hoodie and ski mask in hand. He rang the bell, stumbling backwards at the short girl's abrupt and desperate embrace. "Thank, god. I need your help." Immediately noticing the purpling around his eye. "Sam, are you alright?"
"I almost had him. But he hit me, and I just..." He worked his way towards tears.
"Shh, it's alright." She gave him a soft peck. "We'll put some ice on it in a minute."
She took his hand and led him towards the living room, greeted to the sight of Mercedes' parents tied up in separate parts of the room.
"I can't get them untied," Mercedes explained. "I went to get a knife and there's no silverware, no nothing."
"I can do that." Sam reached into his back pocket, and pullet out a pocket knife, fishing for the biggest blade. He turned towards Mercedes. "Did you call the cops?"
She nodded. "They said they'd be here shortly."
"Good. That's good."
Sam cut free her mother first. Removing the gag from her mouth, she thanked him, adamantly. Then her father, who shook his hand with his rope-burned wrists. "Thank you, son."
"No problem, sir. I'm just glad that I was here to help. I'm sorry about skating in your pool."
"You were here for my wife and my daughter. That's all that matters right now."
The police sat with Mercedes' mother in the kitchen as she retold her tale. While Mr. Jones sat with Sam outside on the front porch, watching the night sky pink into dawn.
"Hey, I heard about your family's troubles. I'm sorry Dwight lost his job."
Sam shook his head. "We're fine, sir."
"What you did tonight... was brave. Foolish, but brave. Going after him like that. Here." Marvin reached for the checkbook inside his robe.
"Mr. Jones, there's no need for that."
"There's always a need."
Sam looked down at the check in shock, at the three zeros behind the five, especially. He gulped. "Thank... thank you, sir."
"Thank you, Sam."
Mercedes was allowed to take Sam upstairs to her room, leaving the door open. She laid on her bed, inviting him to join her.
The boy playfully inquired, "So, when does your punishment start?"
"Tomorrow." She rested her head on his chest. "But I've earned a treat tonight for my trauma." Looking up, the brown girl rested the ice pack over his eye.
"Am I the treat?" He smiled.
"You're definitely something." She laid there, stuck in her thought. "It's weird, though. That hoodie you grabbed from the robber. I could've sworn I'd seen it before."
Sam's eyes shot open. "Maybe. It seemed pretty common to me."
"You're right. So..."
"So?"
"What are you gonna tell Santana about tonight?"
"That I was with you."
"I'm serious."
He smiled. "Me too."
"You can lie. Tell her you were just skateboarding. Now that you're gonna be a local hero in the morning and everything."
He grazed his thumb upon her plump plush lips. "I think it's best to be honest. Truthful."
"Me too."
Mercedes cuddled up against him, giving up her fight with sleep, as Sam laid there, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, he actually believed what he said.
A/N: Some housekeeping notes. I'm working on "Sign Here." I've just been really busy with... not writing that. But it's outlined, which is more than I can say for most of the things I write. Anyways, reviews are always welcomed and stored into my spank bank for later. And if you like bribes, well, the next one-shot will be fluffy and if you squint your eyes a little the end of each paragraph creates a drawing of my nude form. Yeah, that last bit was a lie. Adios.
