Chapter Eight: Go Slow
A/N: I know, I know, I'm a sucky, awful person who never updates anything and deserves nothing but scorn and anguish. I'd say I'm the J.D. Salinger of Samcedes fanfiction, but I believe that illustrious title goes to nerd4music. Anyways, real life stuff got in the way, but then Samcedes happened this past month or so, and then... well, you know what happened. Anyways, I wrote this because I was avoiding said real life stuff last night and my friend Ana wanted a fic where Sam and Mercedes finally do the thing and Sam discovers Mercedes has a nipple ring... things sorta spiraled from that, so forgive me, but... I come bearing fluff. Enjoy.
There weren't candles this time. For some reason, Mercedes was disappointed.
The promise of no sex almost burned down their apartment, but now that they were in an airstream trailer, there wasn't even a playlist of sexy songs to play in the background.
Sam had been a gentleman the whole road trip. He just wanted to tour the various iconic beaches of Southern California with his girl before she went to work on her follow-up album, and he wouldn't see her for the rest of the summer.
'His girl.' He missed calling her that, even though she was always going to be his. They weren't official or anything. They were just "hanging out." A term he was starting to hate, but he wasn't going to push. He was elated for the time the two of them were spending together since he came out to L.A. a few months before. He was going to be a part of Cal Arts class of 2018 come the Fall.
Someone sent a portfolio of his artwork and an insanely complimentary recommendation letter from an up and coming R&B diva. Someone with shoeboxes full of drawings and sketches from their fateful summer and Instagram photos of avantgarde macaroni art. Someone wanted him in California and she was currently pretending not to bite her thumbnail in the most adorable way possible.
"What?" The brown girl asked, suddenly very aware of him staring.
"Nothing. Everything. You're amazing, you know that?"
She couldn't help but laugh. "Where on earth did that come from?"
"Just from looking at you."
Mercedes shied away from his gaze, choosing to smile into her sweater. "How about tea? You want some tea? I'll fix some tea." She slid out of the booth at the heart of the trailer and reached for the rusty kettle in the cupboard overhead.
"Thank you for coming with me, Mercedes. I wouldn't have wanted to go on this trip with anyone else."
"No... no problem. I've enjoyed seeing the various... cliffs of rocks so far." Her hands shook as she poured the water into the kettle. Three days in close quarters with Sam was about to wreck her... she hoped it wouldn't, but she knew it would.
She turned to find him already standing there. "Oh, um, the kettle should be... tea won't be long is what I'm trying to say."
He cupped her cheek, shaking his head. "I love you, Mercedes."
"Sam..."
"I know we promised we wouldn't say anything, but I can't help it. I don't like not being able to do this. Not being able to touch you... kiss you. The sex stuff doesn't concern me, okay? That's not why I wanted you to come on the trip with me-"
"Sam-"
"I've been in love with you since I was 16, and I'm not gonna lose you again. You mean too much to me. And I just think that if we talk about things-"
"Sam!"
He flinched, dropping his hands and stepping back. "Right. I'm sorry."
She found her nerve again, taking his larger, pale hand into her small, brown one.
"What's wrong?" His brow furrowed with uncertainty as he followed her towards the narrow, blue curtain Sam'd made to give Mercedes a "bedroom."
She cleared her throat, standing at the foot of her twin bed, kissing his knuckles before placing his hand across her heart. He felt it race in time with his beneath the thin, white knitting of her sweater.
"I've... I've never not been in love with you," she husked. "I... I want... I want..." Words were failing her. Something that Sam was used to.
Instead, his hand slid up towards her neck, pulling her forward in a full, desperate kiss. God, he missed her lips. He missed her everything. And her hunger matched his with each devouring.
With her eyes shut, she reluctantly parted from his lips. Smiling softly as she heard his plaintive groan. Her timid fingers found the hem of her sweater, tugging a stray string before finally pulling the fabric over her head. The moment succumbed to puzzlement as she revealed her one-piece bathing suit underneath.
"Babe, I'm not really in the mood to go to the beach right now," Sam aired, crinkling his nose in the process.
Mercedes could not control the loud giggle that escaped her in response. "We're not..." She stood on her toes and pecked the tip of his nose before pulling down her cut-off shorts. "We're not gonna go to the beach yet, Sam." Her nimble fingers slid his open plaid shirt off of his shoulders, and toyed with the strap of his undershirt.
"... Oh." Those piercing, peridot eyes grew wide with realization. "Oh!... Mercedes, we don't have to- I don't want you to think-"
She reached behind her, undoing the bow at the back of her neck to free her halter. "You promised to be my first. When I was finally ready." Mercedes let the straps fall forward as she sat him on the foot of her bed. "...I'm ready."
Sam's arms instinctively wrapped around her waist, while his forehead rested on her stomach. His light kisses fought her butterflies, while she slid down the stretchy garment.
The anchor-patterened bathing suit found its way down Mercedes' ankles when he pulled her onto his lap. "Perfect," Sam whispered into the left crook of her neck, while she played the stray hairs at his nape. "So perfect." He kissed her collar. Each plush graze got lower and lower until something stopped him. A slight chuckle reverberated against her breasts as he asked, "When did that happen?"
"What?" Mercedes looked down when she finally realized what he was referencing. The winged barbell ring in her right nipple. "The mall tour. Santana dared me in Minneapolis after a show. I was too big of a wuss to get the other one done. After a while, I got used to it. I dunno, I kinda like it. What do you think?"
His tongue immediately darted against her puckered dark bud. Her eyes clamped shut at his reply, along with a roll of her hips. "Sam..." The hitch in her breath caught her off guard. "Get the coffee can."
Sam's hands froze against the fullness of her ass. "How... how do you know about the coffee can?"
"I made the mistake of trying to make coffee this morning. Now get the coffee can." Her mistake resulted in the discovery of a Folgers can full of condoms in the back of the cupboard marked 'Not Coffee' on the lid.
"I'll be right back. Don't... don't go anywhere."
"Where am I gonna go?"
"Just don't go anywhere, okay?" He kissed the corner of her mouth and shifted her onto the bed. Rushing towards the tiny kitchen for the can, Sam got caught in the curtain. Earning him a shocked gasp from his girl, to which he answered with a simple "I'm okay" as he continued on his slapdash mission.
He returned... slowly, with the canister under his arm and his undershirt in his hand, scanning the full-figured body of the woman splayed out before him on the bed.
The blond found himself fiddling with the drawstring of his boardshorts, prepared to pull them down when he asked, "Are you sure about this, Mercedes?"
She crawled forward, looking up at him with those doe eyes that made him melt. "Mm-hmm," she smiled and yanked down his shorts. "Just... remember to go slow. Okay?"
Sam nodded. "Okay." Stepping out of the shorts, he pulled a condom from the top of the stack in the can. "Lay back down again," he instructed, ripping open the wrapper and sheathing himself. Unaware that Mercedes was watching the whole time. "Well, you're not suppose to look at it."
She laughed against her pillow. "What else am I suppose to look at? I can't look at my boyfriend's dick?"
"Your boyfriend? Who is this boyfriend? I'll kick his ass," he beamed, hovering over her.
"Don't... I like his ass. It's pale and bony, but it's still cute. And it's mine." She leaned up to catch his lips between her teeth, sucking on that ample bottom lip. "I love you," she rasped.
He was never going to be able to remove the smile from his face. "Slow. Right?"
She nodded. "Right," she let out a deep breath, feeling him inch his way inside of her. His broad shoulders became her anchors, gripping them tightly through his progression. "Gah."
"You okay?" He paused with trepidation. "Am I hurting you?"
"A little, but I'm fine." Her stout legs wrapped around his waist, plunging him forward with an exclamation of awe. She found herself matching his movements, only to go faster. Each roll of her hips proceeded on instinct and need and curiosity and ardor. Her body prickled. Fingers, toes, the crown of her skull, the pierced peaks of her nipples. She was aflame.
Sam's jitters eluded him with every thrust. The leisure pace that his girl desired somehow went away with the clawed nails against his back. So wrapped up in her curves and delicious moans, that they were all he ever wanted to hear from then on out. To hell with an album, sell an LP of her growls when her nipple ring is tweaked ever so slightly. Or when she muffles a cry of "Oh my god, Sam..." into his neck. Or she snickers against his lips between ravenous kisses.
Sam knew in that moment he and Mercedes were never going to see the beach for the rest of the trip. Not when her grip on his hair and the wild choke of her orgasm was all that he ever wanted.
Mercedes didn't know what was more disarming: the feeling of finally being with the one she loved or...
...Finally being with the one she loved. The fact hit her like a ton of bricks. Nothing could compete. Loving and being loved. Being vulnerable with someone to your core, and getting the same in return. Knowing that with that person, they were home. Sam was it. The certainty that she had in that moment overwhelmed her.
Sam pulled the blanket over them, taking a few moments to settle. He tucked the matted hair behind her ears, and collected her into his arms. "How do you feel?"
The answer was simple, as she rested her head against his chest, feeling his heart pound against her ear. "Loved."
A/N: See, that wasn't so bad, now was it? You can even write reviews if you want and everything. God bless the interwebs. Until next time: same Bat time, same Bat station.
