Haha! So… This happened… I got a weird sort of crisis half way through writing the smut (Yes Samcedes smut peoples!) because I write gay sex. Gay sex. How does straight sex go again? Yep… it's been THAT long since I've had a boyfriend… Living vicariously through Mercedes this chapter… Kind of weird…
Listen please review! I honestly write SO much better with feedback… without it, I'm reduced to writing mediocre heterosexual porn, and that's really not helping anyone :P
Hope we enjoy :P No Klaine this chapter :(
"Mercedes, it's a ball, it won't bite," Sam told her calmly.
"Calm your tits, I was just wiping my hands, Sam," Mercedes laughed, "I've been bowling before, honey."
She picked up the pink ball and poked her tongue out at him. Sam smiled.
"You certainly look at home with the ball in your hands," Sam blurted before thinking. He stammered madly as Mercedes gaped at him.
"I didn't…" he started, but Mercedes laughed madly at him.
"Your euphemisms need work, baby," she told him, and pressed a kiss to his lips quickly. Sam forgot to close his eyes, stunned at the relaxed, casual, easy show of affection. Mercedes strutted up to the lane and bowled. Sam forgot to breathe as he watched her bend over. Her jeans were hugging her thighs and ass and Mercedes caught his eyes following them as she turned around.
"See something you like, Sam?" she tittered and did a little twirl for him.
Sam nodded wordlessly.
Mercedes suddenly looked a little uncomfortable under Sam's gaze and she started to fiddle with her clothing.
"Her name is Mercedes Jones," Sam answered her. "And she's absolutely beautiful."
"Sam…" Mercedes scolded him and turned her gaze downcast, waiting for the machine to spit her ball back.
"Why can't you see that you're gorgeous?" Sam asked her in confusion.
"Because," she answered him firmly.
"That's not an answer," Sam smiled.
"Because I'm not, okay?" Mercedes said, a little heatedly.
Sam watched her bowl her next bowl, almost broken-heartedly. Mercedes was gorgeous. She was drop dead gorgeous. If she couldn't see that, Sam would have to prove it to her.
"Let's go," he said abruptly when she returned from her spare. She gave him a quizzical look. "I just want to be alone with you right now, if you know what I mean?" Sam raised an eyebrow at her conspiratorially.
"We've got the lane for another half an hour, Sam," she said, biting her lip again in that way she did when she was nervous.
"And I would rather spend that half an hour kissing every breathtaking inch of you than rolling a ball down some polished wood," Sam pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Would you deny me that privilege, Miss Jones?" he grinned at her and kissed her softly.
Mercedes pulled away with a shaky little breath. She felt woozy. Sam could quite literally kiss her silly and the idea of an hour or so in the back of his car suddenly sounded like the best idea she'd ever heard in her life.
"Do you know what the most spoken line in movies is?" she whispered to him. It had been a question on some game show they'd watched together a few weeks back. Sam had blurted out the answer before the host had even finished the question, which had resulted in Mercedes calling him a geek, which had turned into a play wrestle, which had quickly disintegrated into a heavy make-out session.
Sam's eyes widened in recognition.
"Let's get out of here?" he asked softly with a smile.
"Correct! Ding, ding, ding!" Mercedes cheered softly, "Spin the game wheel, Sam, and see what amazing prize you have won!" she continued in a fake game show host voice.
Sam grabbed her by the neck and firmly brought her lips to his, kissing her hard in the middle of the arcade.
"I don't need a prize," he panted eventually; "I have you."
Mercedes smiled despite herself and Sam rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. He couldn't imagine being happy with anyone else. He was so crazy about her. He loved the way she could tease him but never actually mean it. He loved the way she was so outwardly confident until she really let you in and let you see all her vulnerability. He loved the idea of being the one to fix her vulnerability. He loved the idea of being the one to hold her and kiss her and lo-
Sam felt Mercedes pull away from him sharply and wondered whether he had been thinking so loudly that she could tell.
He loved her.
He merely stood there panting loudly for no reason as he stared at her. He remembered Blaine's words, "I thought you said you'd been in love before?" No he'd never been in love with Santana, or Qui-
"Quinn!" Mercedes leapt even further away from Sam as she wiped around her lips with her finger trying to fix her lipstick from being smudged. She was angry at herself for not noticing Quinn until she was right on top of them, holding and kissing and touching. Mercedes fixed an innocent smile on her face. "How are you, girl? Having a good summer?"
Mercedes peeked a look at Sam and almost died. Sam had Mercedes's lipstick smeared on his lips, his hair was oddly tousled on one side, and he had a strange frozen, unblinking expression on his face as he stared straight at Mercedes, ignoring Quinn.
Quinn merely watched them with blank uncaring eyes.
"Yeah, its been a blast," she said sarcastically, "So, you two? How long?" she didn't really sound surprised or even very interested in the development.
"About a month now," Mercedes softly.
"Six weeks on Saturday," Sam spoke up, startling Mercedes. He smiled at her and she merely glared at him in response. Now was not the time to be romantic and rubbing Quinn's face in it.
"Prom?" Quinn asked and Mercedes nodded.
"Cool," she responded dully. Then she merely walked away.
"Wait, Quinn!" Mercedes called, but Quinn ignored her and rejoined her group of girls who were being evicted for smoking indoors.
"Let her go," Sam told her and lay his head on Mercedes's shoulder, pressing his chest against her back.
Mercedes and Sam watched Quinn skulk out, fingers intertwined softly.
Mercedes turned her head to look at Sam.
"'Six weeks on Saturday'?" she asked him with a little smile.
"Yep," he nodded, "You kind of remember the night you first kissed the most beautiful girl in the world, babe," he nuzzled into her neck.
Mercedes let out a little whine.
"Let's get out of here?" Sam grinned.
"Let's!" Mercedes agreed emphatically.
"Ohhh," Mercedes moaned loudly as Sam lay kisses and bites on her neck, "Good Lord," she told him, "Why do we go outside? Why don't we do this all the time?"
"I think I'd probably die if we did this all the time," Sam told her without thinking and she gave him a curious look. Sam gulped. It was so easy to forget that Mercedes had never had a physical relationship before. He didn't want to push her. Not now… Not now he knew he loved her. He wasn't going to tell her. She wasn't ready. He wasn't ready. And her response terrified him.
"Um, just… I'd be a bit too… worked up… to do this all the time," Sam bit out.
"Oh," Mercedes giggled, "Are you hard?" she breathed curiously against his ear and Sam scuttled away from her in horror.
"'Cedes!" he screeched, "Why would you say that? Don't you know what you're doing to me?" he groaned almost painfully and rolled down his window a little to breathe.
"So you are?" she smiled. Sam didn't know how to respond. He wanted more than just sex with her, but he knew damn well that sex could easily complicate everything else.
"What do you think?" Sam shot back.
Mercedes's grin got wider.
"I want to feel it," she said confidently and Sam felt his heart stop.
"What?" he croaked.
"Against me," she elaborated. "Lay on me like you did the other day, I'll be fine," she assured him.
"Mercedes, I can't," Sam moaned, "You're practically asking me to dry hump you right now."
"Is that bad?" she suddenly panicked, "Did I say the wrong thing? God, I knew taking sex advice from Kurt was going to end badly!"
Sam laughed.
"You got sex advice from Kurt?" he smiled and moved closer to her again. Mercedes nodded in a mortified sort of way. "What did he say?"
"He just sort of mentioned on the phone that he and Blaine tried it and it might be something a bit tame that we could do… I wasn't quite ready for his blow job and hand job advice," Mercedes told him, "But this seemed simple enough that even I couldn't mess it up. Figures," she ended bitterly.
Sam hugged her close for a minute or two without speaking. Then he finally asked, "Why did you want sex advice? You don't need it, you know."
Mercedes snorted then flung a hand over her mouth, "See! That's the extent of my sexiness! I need all the help I can get. Especially when you've had heaps more experience and you're about ten times prettier than me… Just… I needed sex advice, okay?" She wasn't looking him in the eye.
Sam took in a deep breath.
"Mercy?" he said quietly and she smiled at the nickname. Only Sam and her grandmother called her that. "Do you trust me?" he asked softly.
She nodded implicitly without even thinking. She trusted Sam with her life.
"Close your eyes," Sam told her, "And take off your shirt. Please," he added.
Mercedes stared at him.
"Please? I want to make you feel as beautiful as I think you are. Trust me," he kissed her.
Mercedes screwed up her nose with her eyes as she closed them tightly, and Sam couldn't help kissing the tiny wrinkles on the bridge of her nose.
She began to slowly pull up her shirt, exposing her beautiful dark skin, then it went higher, reaching the bottom of her bra. Sam forced himself not to touch as she revealed the bright pink lace cups. Finally the shirt went over her head and she tossed it aside. Sam didn't say a word. He just took her in. Her stomach was rounded beautifully, her waist came in to make her figure more hourglass shaped. Her belly button was an outie. Sam grinned at that. The lace of her bra couldn't hide the way her nipples had puckered into hard buds under his gaze. He could see them through the fabric. Her shoulders were beautifully rounded, and her collarbone left a little cleft at the base of her throat. She wasn't skinny. She wasn't even slender. But she was so beautiful Sam could barely believe she was his.
"Sam, I'm freaking out," she told him, "Can I open my eyes?" Her brow was furrowed.
"Keep them closed," she heard Sam say, his tone almost reverent. "Can I kiss you?" he asked.
"Please?" Mercedes asked him, Sam's lips were reward in themselves. She slightly puckered her lips, waiting for his, when she felt the ghost of his lips brush against her stomach.
"Sam! No!" she squealed and covered her stomach with her hands, eyes flying open in accusation to burn into Sam's.
"Hey," Sam cooed, "I want to show you how beautiful you are."
"I am not!" Mercedes hissed, "I know I'm fat, you don't have to make me feel worse about it!"
Sam looked taken aback. Then he looked cross.
"Lay down and close your eyes," he told her firmly, "I really want to show you what I see."
Mercedes met Sam's glare and found something there. A sort of passionate enthusiasm that made her feel like he wouldn't lie to her right now.
She wriggled around him a bit to lay down, then looking into his eyes as he nodded at her encouragingly, she closed hers.
"I'm going to start here," Sam said, his fingers tracing soft little patterns on the patch of skin just below her navel and just above her jeans. "Your skin is so soft here. There's little hairs that you can barely see, I can just feel them prickling up with goose bumps under my fingers. You're soft, my fingers can sink into your body a bit." Mercedes let out a noise of distaste and Sam quickly continued, "I love it. I love seeing my pale fingers against your stomach, I love being able to sink them into you a little bit. It makes you a bit more real. It makes me remember that you're mine."
Sam moved to her waistline.
"I love the way your body tapers in and out here. Just this smooth dip. My face fits into it," he nuzzled into her side. I love that it doesn't come in too much, just enough to remind me that here is the line between safe and dangerous territory. Above is relatively safe," Sam ran his hand down to rest on the button of her jeans, "Below is dangerous."
Mercedes wasn't scared. She knew Sam wouldn't undo her pants. She was shivering a little though at the way his fingers were brushing over her.
"My favourite part," Sam said softly, "Hey, girls."
He ran his fingers across Mercedes's bra and she snorted loudly as she laughed again.
"Did you just talk to my breasts?" she giggled.
"Shhh," Sam told her and suddenly the air got thicker because she could feel Sam's lips moving over her bra, towards her nipple, closing over the fabric and sucking.
"Uhhh," Mercedes threw her head back as Sam suckled at her through the wet fabric, his fingers still resting over her zip. Mercedes felt her hips roll up towards his fingers, parting her legs a little to let him touch her.
Her eyes flew open as Sam made a noise of surprise at the fact his fingers were stroking her along the seam of her jeans.
"Sorry!" he said in a hurry.
"Wasn't you," Mercedes gasped, "I wanted you to."
Sam groaned loudly.
"Your eyes are open," he scolded her gently.
"Your fingers aren't moving," she retorted, and watched his eyes get wide.
Sam moved slowly, climbing over her and nudging her legs apart on the seat to lay between them. Mercedes felt a delicious warmth spread between her legs as she felt the pressure of Sam's erection against her.
"Feel that?" he asked her crudely, "That's how fucking hot you make me. You are fucking gorgeous, okay? No more telling me you're not because this guy," Sam gave a little thrust and Mercedes cried out in pleasure, "Thinks otherwise."
"Shirt off," Mercedes ordered him, and Sam whipped it over his head without complaint.
Mercedes almost moaned again at the feeling of Sam's skin against her own. She felt bare and exposed, and utterly, utterly desirable. It was amazing how she somehow felt more comfortable half naked with Sam, than she did fully clothed around everyone else.
"Want you," Mercedes told him, and Sam whined as she wrapped a leg around his hips.
"We shouldn't be doing this," he told her quite seriously as he rolled his hips down and traced her nipple with a hand.
"Don't fucking stop," Mercedes moaned, her head tipping back again. Sam bit her exposed neck gently with a growl.
"Can you get off like this?" he asked her breathlessly as his hips began to rock firmly in a pattern of their own.
She shook her head.
"Probably not, I usually have to touch myself," she told him.
"Oh my God, Mercy! You're killing me!" Sam moaned out brokenly, "How often do you do it?"
"Usually whenever I can't sleep because I'm thinking about you," she told him, pleasure making her far too truthful.
"You think about me?" Sam ground out, pressing his erection hard into Mercedes with a grunt.
"Always," she whispered.
"I love you," Sam groaned out as he thrust against her frantically with a stutter and came hard into his underwear.
Mercedes stilled underneath him.
"You…" she said after several silent minutes of heavy breathing and pulses normalising.
"It just came out," Sam interrupted in a panic.
"Ah," Mercedes smiled, "So you…"
"That was amazing," Sam deflected, sucking at Mercedes's nipple once more, "You are so unbelievably hot."
Mercedes pulled him up for a kiss. She shut him up with her lips before he started to make her believe it.
Super jealous of Mercedes at 2:17am when I finished writing… My life sucks… Gonna go sleep with my cat now… I'm twenty-four… My pathetic-ness is so premature! :(