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Between the rain and the television, Jacob nearly misses the sound of the doorbell. It’s just past three in the morning and he’s just gotten off the phone with the girls, blowing them kisses through his camera and marveling at how different his baby looks after just a few weeks. Time goes so fast when they’re that little. He tries not to think about it too much because he’s afraid he might talk himself into jumping on a plane back to England, just quit his job and stay at home forever.
The Ring camera tells him it’s Sam. He watches the live feed for a second, the small, blurry figure tucking his wet hair behind his ears. He looks almost unreal in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. Jacob tiptoes over to the door to open it, feeling strangely nervous about making any noise.
“I hope I didn’t wake you.” Sam says.
Jacob opens his door wider, motioning for him to come in. He doesn’t answer. It’s ridiculous and juvenile but he wants to make Sam sweat a little, push him away. He always does whenever he’s faced with Sam’s other life, his real life.
“How’s Philippa?” Jacob asks pointedly, like he wasn’t just speaking with his wife of seven years and his two children.
Sam throws him a weird look. “Philippa is fine. She’s asleep.”
“Does she know you’re here?”
It’s Sam’s turn to be quiet, shifting his weight to his toes and then to his heels. “I can leave.” He says finally. “If this is a bad time.”
“No.” Jacob says immediately, his stomach churning. “No, stay. Sorry. I’m just tired.” He takes Sam’s hand and leads him to the couch. They settle down, Sam sitting crisscrossed on one cushion and Jacob with his legs folded under him, facing each other like children at a sleepover.
“Did you have a good day, then?” Jacob asks. “What time did Pip come in?”
“Nine ish. It was good, we wandered a bit. Just hung out at my flat mostly.” Sam’s hand finds his thigh as he’s speaking and it slowly travels further up, fingers curling when it reaches Jacob’s waist. He pulls him in closer and Jacob acquiesces, allowing himself to be moved until he’s sitting right between Sam’s knees.
“That’s nice.” Jacob says flatly. He doesn’t meet Sam’s eyes, aware of how petulant he sounds.
“It was nice.” Sam agrees. “I really missed her.” He leans down a little, barely brushing his lips over Jacob’s pulse point.
“You should take her to Le Fanal. She’d love the croissants.” Petty again; that’s their coffee shop.
“I don’t think so.” Sam says. “Le Fanal is definitely more our speed.” He kisses Jacob then, his hand coming up to card through his hair, gently cradling his head.
“How long do you have?” Jacob asks, pulling away. His hands find Sam’s waist, magnetized to the other man.
“I don’t know. Would you,” Sam trails off, his face colouring. “Do you want to fuck me?”
Arousal pools in Jacob’s stomach. That’s not something they do often, and Jacob topping is even less common. “I’m hearing contradicting statements.” He laughs. “Tell me how long, Sammy. I can’t answer without a timeframe.”
“Not long, probably.” Sam shrugs. “Like an hour? That’s definitely enough time, right?”
“Rude.” Jacob says.
“I love you, Jacob, but an hour is me being generous.” Sam laughs.
Jacob’s smile drops. Hearing an I love you from Sam is rare and it always takes him by surprise. Usually it leaves him with with all the warm and fuzzies, but his blood runs cold now, only able to picture Pip waking up alone in Sam’s bed.
Sam raises an eyebrow. “I’m just teasing.” He says. “You are so young and virile, they actually make Viagra with your blood.”
“Ew.” Jacob says, the feeling abating. “Ew to all of that. Never say virile again.”
“Virile.” Sam whispers, drawing the word out. Jacob gently hits him in the chest, pulling a face.
“So will you?”
Jacob rolls his eyes and sighs before saying yes like he’s so put out, like the answer would ever be anything else. He’s mildly worried about how easy it is to shove all the bad feelings away to be with Sam but he’s had years of practice. It’s never not been easy with Sam.
Jacob allows Sam to maneuver him onto his back, wrapping his arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. The other man’s lips are chapped against Jacob’s like they usually are and the familiarity settles over Jacob like a blanket, comforting. Sam is at work above him, pulling their clothes off while pressing infrequent kisses all over Jacob’s face. Jacob is content watching him, admiring the firm lines of muscle stretching across his shoulders and the hazy look in his eyes.
“You look good today.” Jacob says, then quickly amends, “Extra good, I mean.”
Sam smiles and Jacob reaches up to trace the lines forming around his eyes. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” Sam whispers, closing the gap between their mouth and tracing the outline of Jacob’s mouth with his tongue. Jacob’s lips fall apart, moaning into Sam’s mouth and he jerks up against the other man, flesh against flesh.
“Fuck.” Sam mumbles, pulling away. He’s hard, cock resting snug against Jacob’s thigh. The only piece of clothing remaining between them is Jacob’s shirt and Sam gently lifts him up to pull it off. He folds it and places it on the floor, next to the other crumpled up clothes.
“Right, then.” Jacob says, sitting up a little more. “Bedroom? Or here?”
“Bedroom, please. I’d rather not fall off of the sofa with your dick inside me.”
“That was literally one time.” Jacob grumbles as Sam gets up. He grabs Sam’s arm and hauls himself up, stepping over the clothes as they walk to his room. “And it was your dick inside me, if I recall correctly.”
“They call me Slam Reid for a reason.” Sam says, turning around and giving him a horrible wink. Jacob groans, pushing him onto the mattress.
“You’re full of horrible jokes today, aren’t you?” He says, settling on top of Sam with a soft exhale.
“If I recall correctly,” Sam parrots, “it was your joke in the first place. And anyways,” he starts to giggle and Jacob winces in anticipation, “I’d rather be full of you.”
“Ugh. Coitus canceled.” Jacob proclaims. “Get out of my house, Slam Reid.”
Sam runs his hands up Jacob’s abdomen and stops at his chest, squeezing at the flesh. “Sorry, Jakey.” He says unapologetically. “Whatever can I do to make it up to you?” His fingers circle his nipples, his acrylics sharp against the sensitive skin. Jacob shudders, presses against him harder.
“I’m sure I can think of something.”
Sam leans over, grabbing lube out of his bedside drawer. “I’m ready, mostly.” He admits.
Jacob stills above him. He doesn’t know what conclusion to draw from that statement so he doesn’t press for elaboration, he just nods and forces himself to relax. He presses kisses into Sam’s chest and reaches for his cock, slowly jerking him off while Sam spends a quick minute fingering himself. He pushes Sam’s fingers away, replacing them with three of his own and Sam groans under him when they sink all the way in, curling just a little bit.
“Fuck.” Jacob mumbles, dizzy with arousal. “You really are ready.” He pumps his fingers a little longer, his own dick throbbing against Sam, almost painfully hard.
“Hurry up.” Sam complains, clenching around his fingers.
“Patience.” Jacob chides, sliding his fingers out. He decides to be a little mean, getting into position but only just, running his hands up Sam’s chest. He traces his name on Sam’s chest with his vampire nails and kisses him hard when he guesses correctly. He draws a heart outlining Sam’s nipples and mouths over them, licking away the faint white lines all the way down to Sam’s dick. He laps at it, pressing a quick kiss to the tip and then swallowing him down, going as far as half a breath will allow him. Sam bucks into his mouth at the unexpected contact, moaning his name. His hands fly to Jacob’s hair, pulling lightly.
Jacob hollows his cheeks and sucks, jerking off what his mouth can’t reach. He does this until Sam tugs his hair again. “Come back.” He whines. Jacob pulls off with a wet pop and Sam shuts his eyes like he can’t handle the sight.
“What, you didn’t like that?” Jacob asks, mostly joking.
“You know I did.” Sam rolls his eyes. He reaches for Jacob, pulling him against him again and tilting his head up to kiss him. “I just missed you.”
“You’re cute.” Jacob says fondly, pressing a chaste kiss to Sam’s lips. “Okay, ready?”
“I’ve been ready.” Sam grumbles. “Let’s go, Jacob Slamderson.”
“Hmm. I really hate that.” Jacob says. He positions himself, slowly pressing into Sam. His warm heat envelops him, taking away his ability to talk for a moment. He kisses Sam to muffle his moans even though he doesn’t need to, force of habit from the trailer. Sam’s mouth is slack against his, his breath coming slow as Jacob pushes into him. He bottoms out and they both moan, Sam’s eyes roll back into his head.
“Fuck.” Jacob says.
“Fuck.” Sam laughs, breathless. “Give me a second.”
Jacob nods, busying himself by mouthing at Sam’s neck.
“No marks.” Sam says quickly and Jacob pulls back, irrationally annoyed.
“Obviously not.” Even if it wasn’t for Pip, there was still the makeup crew, castmates, Rollin’s sharp eye. Honestly. Sam couldn’t think he was that careless. Sam - seemingly oblivious to Jacob’s irritation - says nothing, doesn’t even open his eyes, and it rankles him even more.
“Did you really think I was going to send you back to your girlfriend with a massive hickey like I’m fucking sixteen?” Jacob presses.
Sam opens his eyes at that, his eyebrows knitting together. “Could we maybe not talk about my girlfriend while you’re actively inside me?” His tone is light but Jacob is already on the road to being upset and that’s all it takes.
“No problem.” He says shortly, pulling out and rolling off of Sam. He faces the wall, feeling supremely childish but his throat is closing up and he’s afraid of looking at Sam because he might start crying and that’s a little too much for him right now.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He hears Sam say. “Jacob, look at me.”
Jacob considers it for a second and decides to be an adult, steeling himself before turning over. Sam is sitting up and Jacob’s stomach drops because he looks so hurt.
“I know,” Jacob says and there it is, a traitorous tear escaping his eye. “God, I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I do.” Sam says carefully. Jacob raises his eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. Sam reaches out and laces their hands together.
“I, um. I think you’re jealous?” Sam says.
Jacob, unexpectedly, starts to laugh. “Duh.” He gasps in between bouts of laughter, letting his head fall into Sam’s chest.
“Oh.” Sam says, his chest vibrating with his voice. “I thought, I don’t know.”
“You thought that I hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you have a real relationship? Sam, I’ve met Pip multiple times. I love her, I love the two of you together.”
“I know,” Sam persists, “but I’m just saying. It was the same for me. It’s easy to pretend that… that everything is different when it’s just us. It’s just a bit of a change and it’s normal to feel strange about it.” He moves his hand to Jacob’s face, stroking his cheek. “And this is a real relationship. It’s just different.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jacob sighs, turning to press a kiss into Sam’s palm. “Sorry for freaking out mid thrust.”
“To be fair,” Sam says, “we were both pretty stationary. Not a lot of thrusting going on. Would you be willing to remedy that now?”
“That is the absolute worst way I’ve ever been propositioned.” Jacob informs him, already settling back into his previous position. “Terrible dirty talk, zero out of ten.”
“I’ve never been graded on my dirty talk before.” Sam muses. He looks up at Jacob, eyes soft. “Another first with you, Jake.”
Jacob ignores how mushy that makes him feel, electing to push into Sam again, rougher this time.
“Oh, fuck.” Sam gasps. He gets that little rosy patch right under his left ear like he always does when they’re in bed together and the sight of it coupled with the feeling overwhelms Jacob so much that he has to close his eyes and legitimately think of England. He starts to thrust, eyes flying back open when Sam lets out a near-pornographic moan.
Sam grins self deprecatingly, reaching up for Jacob. “Come here.”
Jacob lowers himself flush against Sam, noses brushing. Their gazes are sharp, unwavering as they move together. Jacob doesn’t kiss him, unwilling to shift his gaze from Sam’s face for even a second. He drinks it all in, the way his jaw clenches when he goes a little harder, the shape of his lips ever so slightly parted, the soft noises that leave his mouth like they’re being wrenched out of him. Sam’s hands grip his ass, urging him to go faster.
Missionary is Jacob’s favourite position with Sam. It could be viewed as boring, vanilla, but there’s nothing that turns Jacob on more than studying his friend’s face, cataloguing every single microexpression that’s a result of Jacob. Sam is the same, watching Jacob equally as intently. The earnestness between the two of them used to scare Jacob, now he sinks into the comfort of its familiarity.
It’s over far too soon. Jacob could stay there forever and it really feels like it’s been forever, but eventually his breath stutters, gasps out, “Sam, I’m…”
“Come in me.” Sam says urgently. His hand is flying up and down his dick as Jacob thrusts into him. He’s covered in a thin layer of sweat and his pupils are fully blown, blue swallowed by black. He looks edible.
“Yeah, fuck. Yes, Sam, Sam…” Jacob babbles thoughtlessly, his thrusts getting increasingly more erratic. “Fuck, Sam, I love you.” He sighs as he comes. He’s boneless all of a sudden, dropping onto Sam. He lets himself rest there for a second or two before sliding down, batting Sam’s hands away from his dick. He takes it, swallowing him down again. He breathes through his nose and relaxes his throat, allowing him to sink all the way down.
“Fuck, Jacob.” Sam whispers. Jacob tugs at his thighs until Sam gets the message and starts to fuck his throat. It only takes a minute or two until he’s gripping Jacob’s hair, trying to pull him off but Jacob doesn’t budge.
“I’m going to come.” Sam warns and Jacob hums around his dick, trying to convey fucking do it to the best of his ability. Sam always goes really quiet when he comes and this time is no different, the only sign aside from the warmth trickling down his throat being the way his hips stutter. Jacob pulls off, wiping the corner of his mouth. Sam’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing heavy, his chest dramatically rising and falling.
“That was fucking good.” He breathes. Jacob crawls up and snuggles into his side, nuzzling into his chest.
“Yeah.” He agrees sleepily. “I’m all sweaty, I have to shower. Come with me?”
Sam drops a kiss into his hair. “I should go now. And I want to keep you on me for a little longer.”
Jacob opens his eyes, smiles. “You’re nasty.” He says happily.
“Your nasty.” Sam simpers, laughing when Jacob cringes. He gets up and stretches, wiggling his eyebrows at Jacob who’s leering unabashedly.
“See you Friday, then?” Jacob says, rolling into the warm dent that Sam left on his mattress.
“Saturday, I think. I’m taking Pip to the airport on Friday.”
“Love to her.” Jacob says. “Would you be terribly upset if I didn’t walk you out? I’m way too lazy to get up right now.”
“I think I can find my way.” Sam answers. He leans down and kisses Jacob, soft and sweet. “Good night, baby. Sweet dreams.”
Sam might be going back to his apartment, to his girlfriend, but divorced from any context, it looks like he’s just going to the bathroom to shower. Jacob closes his eyes and lets himself pretend.