saturday night and the moon is out

[feel_human]

Tucked away off the road in Bon Temps, there's a road house. Warm light spills from its windows, and the sound of a jukebox playing drifts out into the muggy Louisiana night. The regular assortment of trucks and Hail-Mary-please-keep-this-lemon-goin'-just-a-little-longer cars sit in the dirt parking lot; what amounts to about half the town's small population... or, at least, of those of the 'drinking age and above' persuasion.

Inside, it's a bar of the type scattered all across the American South: homey, no-nonsense. Booths and tables. A man in a plaid flannel shirt wiping the bar; a crossdresser in the kitchen singing Gospel hymns and rolling his hips in time with the words just to scandalize the prep cook. A handful of waitresses, bustling about.

Sookie makes her way briskly through it all, a tray balanced on her palm and her eyes kept stubbornly front, as voices swarm around her. Aloud, and... less so.

...I’m just going to have one beer tonight Jesus one beer that’s all...

...better not gripe about me eating fries not after what I did for him last night...

...I cannot wait to get the hell out of this podunk town...

 

 "Well, make sure you do, and before it’s too late," she responds, thoughtless, to the young man. "Because every year you wait? You just get more and more stuck here. Believe me, I know."

He stares at her. So do his parents.

So does the other table. And she realizes, too little too late, that he hadn't said that out loud, not at all. She laughs, uncomfortable. "I’ll get y'all some ketchup," she says, brightly, and flees, ponytail swinging against the nape of her neck as she goes.

Stupid, Sookie, she chides herself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

 

Comments

[feel_human]

"I won't," she promises, and lowers her head to swirl her tongue delicately around his stiffening nipple. Her hand slides down over his side, over his belly, toward the waistband of the jeans he'd put back on, and she only hesitates a second before running her palm lightly down over the straining zipper, feeling him hard and warm beneath the denim.

[gavemea_45]

This time the sound he makes is deep and low in his chest. Sam strokes one hand down her back again and cups the nape of her neck with the other, petting the side of her throat with his thumb to encourage her without restraining her in any way.

[feel_human]

She strokes over him again, then lifts her hand to the closure of his jeans as she raises her head to look at him.

"Yes?"

[gavemea_45]

"Yes." His eyes are dark, the pupils blown nearly black with desire, but the look in them as he gazes back at her is soft.

"Yes," he says again. "Yes. Please. Yes."

[feel_human]

She gently undoes the button and unzips the fly, then sits up onto her knees to pull off his jeans once again. This time, when she's tugged them off his feet and set them to the side, she allows herself a long look at him, from head to toe and back again.

He's so beautiful. Tall and strong and handsome and sweet, watching her with those blown-dark eyes. She runs a hand up his thigh as she lies back down along his side, watching him closing as she wraps her fingers around him and begins stroking slowly up and down.

[gavemea_45]

He can feel his eyes roll back in his head as his head falls back again and his hips buck upward, pushing his length against her hand and trying to get closer by instinct alone. Sam manages to raise his head once more to watch her watching him as he reacts to her, heat in his glance.

[feel_human]

She focuses on the feeling of him in her hand, hard and hot, and watches him with her own eyes going dark and warm. It seems impossible that her touch should have this kind of effect on him, but between his body and his thoughts there's no doubt he's enjoying it. She strokes him a little faster, experimenting with a tighter or looser grip, running her thumb over him, seeing what he likes.

[gavemea_45]

He can't look away from her, caught in her gaze and in the fascinated, intent way she watches him as she changes her strokes in response to how he reacts. Sam groans aloud as she grips him a little harder, moves a little faster, and when she runs her thumb over the sensitive tip he nearly loses it right then and there.

He doesn't try to stop her - that's the last thing he wants - but pushes himself up on his elbow to drag her in for a passionate kiss, shaking with the force of his desire.

[feel_human]

She catches the back of his head with her free hand and curls her fingers into his hair as she kisses him back. He'd liked that, she heard it, she could see it, so she grips him, firm, and moves her hand faster, and runs her thumb up over him again, trying to do for him what he'd done for her, leading him to the edge of explosive pleasure and then over.

[gavemea_45]

He kisses her again and again, lost in her taste and her touch, and then she moves her hand more against him and he cries out into her mouth, wild and uncontrolled as sensation bursts through him with the force and power of chain lightning.

[feel_human]

She stays with him through it, kissing him gently as she eases him back down, until his shaking subsides and the wave has run its course. Uncurling her fingers from sensitive skin, she puts her hand flat on his chest and kisses him once more, then lifts her head to smile at him.

[gavemea_45]

He smiles back at her, sweet and a little sheepish at how quickly and thoroughly he’d succumbed to her touch.

“Wow,” he murmurs, and leans up to kiss her again. “That was—-“ Words fail him, and he just shakes his head and goes for another kiss instead.

[feel_human]

"Good," she murmurs back, shyly pleased, and kisses him back sweetly.

"I liked it, too."

[gavemea_45]

He curves one hand lightly around the back of her neck and kisses her again - for that, and because he wants to.

“Give me a minute to catch my breath, and then it’ll be your turn,” he promises, low and warm.

[feel_human]

"I'm not in any rush," she promises him. She loves just this, him relaxed and sweat-slicked and tiredly happy, kissing her like he just wants to keep touching her, a little bit, as much and as long as he can. And how sweet was it, that it was her touch and her fingers and her kisses that guided him up and over the edge, even as new to it all as she is?

This day is as perfect as she could have ever dreamed.

[gavemea_45]

“Good.” There’s a flicker of mischievous anticipation in his soft gaze. “Then I’ll be sure to take my time with you.”

He’s not in any rush either. As far as he’s concerned, they could stay here together, and let the world go on around them.

[feel_human]

Just that thought makes her shiver, a little; the thought and the mischief in his eyes combined. Her blush is going nowhere, but she doesn't mind. He's not saying it to make her embarrassed or uncomfortable, and he doesn't mind her bashfulness.

She drops a kiss on his collarbone and snuggles up to his side. "Good thing we had a good lunch," she teases. Seems like they'll need the energy.

[gavemea_45]

"It sure is." He puts an arm around her and cuddles her close, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

"Want to take that pretty dress of yours off?" he murmurs, after a moment. "Curl up together like that?"

[feel_human]

That sounds nice; that sounds perfect. She extricates herself in the next moment, sitting up on her hip, and slides the zipper down her back, then tugs her dress up and off over her head. She sets it neatly to the side and lies back down to cuddle up to him again, savoring the sensation of his warm bare skin against hers.

[gavemea_45]

"It is a pretty dress, you know." He runs his hand lightly over her hip, back and forth. "You nearly knocked me flat when I saw you waiting for me at the house."

[feel_human]

"I'm glad."

She puts her arm over his stomach and relaxes against him, lulled by the steady up and down motion of his chest as he breathes. "I wanted to look pretty for you."

[gavemea_45]

"You definitely did that." He kisses her hair again. "You're beautiful."

[feel_human]

She blushes, but she can tell he means it, and not just as flattery. There aren't a lot of perks to this disability of hers, but one of them is generally being able to tell when people mean what they say.

And he mostly does, which is one reason why she likes him. "You're sweet," she returns. "And handsome, to boot."

[gavemea_45]

He breathes out a wisp of laughter. "I don't think anyone's ever called me sweet except you."

[feel_human]

"Then I guess nobody was payin' attention before."

Because he is sweet. There's a softness in him that's nothing like weakness; he's kind and thoughtful and curious and, yes, sweet. As honey, as the summer sunshine filtering down over them.