#samdom

It was risky, going to Cuba and finding Dom. D’Amore would have his head if he found out, that was for sure. Worse, Dom might side with his father on that. The fact that Dom even went along with this forced exile meant that he agreed on some level that Vincenzo D’Amore had a good enough reason to send him here.

Vincenzo Junior had other opinions on the matter, and Sam always liked following Vinny’s gut feelings more than his own.

He was about to flag down a server to order another coffee when finally, Sam saw his mark.

The man hadn’t changed at all, and yet Sam almost didn’t recognize him. Dom’s dark hair was longer, falling to his shoulders in curls that Sam wanted so desperately to tangle his fingers in. He was still pale, too, despite the sunny locale, and Sam couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up in his chest as Dom slipped into the post office.

With an excited grin, Sam stood up and tossed a pile of bills on the table and crossed the street, following Dom inside.

By the time Sam crossed the threshold, Dom was already standing at the wall of mailboxes, his lockbox still open while he rifled through the mail he’d received. Sam watched him for a moment, taking a silent, fortifying breath when Dom’s shoulders seemed to slump.

Reaching into the breast pocket of his own coat, Sam pulled a letter out and leaned close to Dom. “Excuse me, sir, I think the mailman dropped this,” he said, tone teasing and yet far more earnest than he would have liked.

Dom’s reaction was quick, and the world spun until Sam was slammed back against the wall of lockboxes. His free hand barely caught Dom’s other hand before the man could sink one of his favourite knives into Sam’s gut.

“Watch where you put that thing, Kitten,” Sam purred, smirking down at Dom as understanding and disbelief dawned on his expression. “Unless I’ve been reading your letters completely wrong, I don’t think you want me bleeding out all over the floor, yeah?”

Dom backed away quickly, almost as if he had been burned, looking Sam over as he tucked his knife away somewhere hidden. “How the fuck are you here?” he asked, and Sam was pretty sure Dom intended the question to sound sharp, cutting, but it missed the mark a bit.

Sam smirked, stepping closer to Dom. “Well, you see, Dom, we have these amazing contraptions called airplanes, right?” he said slowly, his mouth splitting his face with a proper grin as he towered over Dom, who was trying very hard not to smile and failing. “You get on them? And they fly you across oceans and shit? Surely, you’ve heard of them?”

“You asshole. Fuck off,” Dom bit out, the corners of his mouth ticking upward.

“I would rather fuck you, if given the choice,” Sam teased, and Dom’s eyes looked him over again.

This time, his gaze was hungry, especially with the way it lingered on Sam’s shaggy hair and beard. Stepping into Sam’s space, Dom grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him down, just enough to growl in his face, “Come with me.”

Without further ado, Dom let go of Sam and spun on his heel, leaving the post office with a huff. Meeting the curious looks of the post office workers behind the counter, Sam winked and hurried after Dom, following him to a house that looked far too large for just one person to live in alone. Something sad and lonely twinged in Sam’s chest, a painful moment of empathy that had him wanting to hold Dom. The man would never allow it, so Sam would do the next best thing.

They barely cleared the threshold before Sam was slamming the door shut and crowding Dom against it. In a moment of blind, desperate desire, Sam dipped his head as if to kiss Dom, and the other man seemed to tip his mouth upward to accept it. But Sam caught himself, stopped short and rested his forehead against Dom’s, letting their breath mingle in the small, nearly nonexistent space between their mouths. Sam glanced down at Dom’s lips before meeting his eyes. Or he tried to meet Dom’s eyes, but the other man was also looking at his lips.

The fragile moment shattered as Dom sucked in a sharp breath and shoved Sam to his knees. “Put that mouth to proper use.”

Smirking, Sam reached up and literally ripped Dom’s pants open, letting them fall in a tattered heap around his ankles. “As you wish, Kitten,” he said, leaning in as Dom kicked one of his feet free to sling a leg over Sam’s shoulder, sealing his mouth around Dom’s perfect little dick.

From there, it was all heat and desperation, Sam wetly sucking Dom’s dick and licking into his cunt while Dom’s fingers twisted painfully in Sam’s hair. Above him, Sam could hear the thump of Dom’s head against the door as he let it fall back—high, shattered moans exploding from his throat.

Sam lost track of how much time he spent on his knees, as was often the case when he got to have Dom at his mercy like that. He couldn’t even be sure just how many times Dom came before he was being pushed away, Dom gasping a broken little, “Samuele, fuck, need your cock.”

“As you wish, Kitten,” Sam replied thickly, surging to his feet and picking Dom up.

They didn’t make it far, with Dom clinging to him and biting at Sam’s throat. As he stumbled past the living room, Sam turned abruptly and bent Dom over the back of the couch, one hand holding him down while he got his own belt and fly open with the other. When his cock was finally free, Sam wasted no time in lining up and shoving his cock into Dom’s cunt, bottoming out with a slick slap.

At Dom’s sharp hiss, Sam waited, trying to let Dom adjust to the intrusion, but it was certainly a test of patience. “Fuck, Kitten, you’re so fucking tight,” he gasped, hips twitching. He didn’t remember the fit being this snug before.

“Haven’t been fucked lately,” Dom admitted shakily, his nails digging into the leather seat of the couch. Sam tried not to think too much into that statement— it’s not like Dom was waiting for Sam, or that Dom was too hung up on Sam’s cock to have flings in Cuba— but there was still a part of him that was thrilled that he had no “competition” for Dom’s pleasure.

“Well,” Sam started, grabbing Dom’s hips tightly and slowly pulling out. “I’m gonna fix that for the next two weeks.”

The pace Sam set was punishing, brutal and relentless, chasing his own release at that point. He was close, desperate to spill his load inside Dom, hungry to watch his spend drip out of his cunt and down his thighs. Beneath him, Dom was noisy with almost shrill, punched out sounds as he just took what Sam gave him.

Leaning over Dom, Sam propped himself up with his hands on the seat of the couch and pressed several biting kisses to the back of Dom’s shoulder. When Dom threw his head back, Sam shifted his weight so he could gently wrap a hand around the base of Dom’s slender throat, making him arch his back dramatically. Grinding his cock into Dom’s cunt, Sam leaned as close to his face as possible and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

At the soft caress, even as Sam ruthlessly ground his cock down into his g-spot, Dom turned his face toward Sam. With each roll of Sam’s hips, their lips would brush against each other. Not a kiss, but so fucking close it had desperate tears springing to Sam’s eyes.

Blinking the tears away and hoping Dom didn’t notice them, Sam moaned, “Dominik.”

“Samuele,” Dom whined back, his eyes half-lidded and hazy as he tried to meet Sam’s thrusts before he tensed up and clenched almost painfully hard around Sam’s cock.

Dom’s orgasm was intense, the wet heat of him becoming impossibly tight while a hot gush of water spilled around Sam’s cock, down both of their legs, and onto the floor. It wasn’t long after that Sam followed him noisily over the edge, pumping his seed deep into Dom’s cunt as he held their hips flush together.

“Christ, almost fucking forgot how fucking good of a lay you are,” Dom said hoarsely as he shuddered through the aftershocks of his release.

Sam just chuckled and pulled out, dropping to his knees behind Dom to pull his cunt open with his thumbs. “I’m not even close to being done with you today, sweetheart,” he said before licking a firm strip up the messy seam of Dom’s cunt, from dick to taint.

The sun had set by the time they found themselves on the bed, sweat cooling on their skin as they caught their breath. Sam was stretched out on his back, eyes closed with one arm tucked up under his head while the other was wrapped around Dom’s lithe body. The other man was pressed up against Sam’s side, his chin resting on his hand on Sam’s chest. Sam didn’t have to open his eyes to know that Dom was staring, and if the grump was staring he was probably overthinking something.

“Can smell those gears in your head overheating with all that thinkin’,” Sam grumbled, laughing and squirming away when Dom harrumphed and bit one of his nipples.

After they settled again, Dom asked, “Seriously, Sam, how are you here?”

Grunting, Sam shrugged before squawking when Dom bit him again. With a sigh, he kept his eyes closed as he said, “Vinny.”

Dom frowned. “Vinny?”

“Your old man went to Italy for a funeral,” Sam elaborated, shrugging. “So Vinny sent me here.”

There were several beats of silence, and Sam could feel Dom’s gaze on him. It went on long enough that Sam was about to open his eyes to finally look at the man in his arms, but then he felt Dom’s lips against his chest. It wasn’t quite a kiss either, but it was close enough to make that part of Sam that was in love with Dom ache.

“I’m glad you came,” Dom mumbled against his skin, and Sam finally opened his eyes to look down at him.

“Yeah?” he asked, smiling lightly.

“Yeah,” Dom hummed before rolling his eyes with a huff. “It was getting boring here.”

At that, Sam laughed. “Happy to be of service, sweetheart,” he said, and Dom smirked.

“Mm, like the sound of that. Service…” he purred, reaching down and wrapping his hand around Sam’s soft cock, squeezing until Sam hissed. “How quick do you think you can get this back up?”

With a sighing groan, his cock twitching already in Dom’s grip, Sam rolled them so that he was on top of Dom, his hips slotting between pale thighs. “As quick as you want it, sweetheart.”

There was also a quiet sound. One he could feel. A continuous, low rumble that ebbed and grew in time with the rise and fall of the warm, solid thing. Purring. Oh. He knew that sound well. Humming, Dom shifted to try getting closer to the body behind him, and the large hand on his stomach started to rub slow circles into his bare, smooth skin.

Then something low in his belly uncurled, languidly squirming, sliding out, and Dom gasped as it lazily pushed back into his sensitive cunt with a filthy squelch.

“Oh fuck.” The words escaped him in a desperate rush when he realised what was happening.

The purring got louder.

“Hey sweetheart,” Sam rumbled. Dom could hear him smiling, felt it when Sam nuzzled at the back of his neck and kissed him sweetly. 

“H-hi darling.” Dom's voice was rough with sleep and from all the noises he'd been making for the past 24 hours. He blinked his eyes open, squinting into the low light of the room only to tightly close them again when Sam's smaller tentacles curled inside of Dom and pressed against his g-spot. He whimpered at the jolt of heat that shot through him. “How many times–?”

Sam gently bit at the delicate spines of Dom's ear, his purring growing even louder. “Twice,” he answered proudly, and Dom couldn't help the way he swore and clenched around Sam. He'd used Dom while he slept, came twice and kept fucking him after. That's why his whole body felt tingly and alive and needy. Sam had been fucking him full of aphrodisiac while he slept for who knew how long. 

“These heats are something else,” Dom said breathlessly.

“Are you okay?” Sam stopped all movement, purring silenced, and leaned over Dom and guided his chin up so he could see Sam's face.

Dom huffed fondly. They'd agreed to this, but of course Sam would still check anyway. “It's so fucking okay.” He easily tipped his chin up to catch Sam's lips, wasting no time and licking hungrily into his mouth, feeling the vibrations of Sam's purring on his tongue as it started back up again.

Now that Dom was awake, Sam could roll his hips, grinding into Dom with a satisfied groan that deepened as he met Sam's movements. Something pressed against him and Dom asked, “You didn't knot me?”

Nails dug into his belly and Sam's hips twitched. Dom could feel the bulge of Sam's cock under his hand and moaned. “Didn't wanna wake you up,” Sam said, “but fuck I wanted to.” Sam trailed his lips up the back of Dom's neck, making him shiver. “Wanted to know what you'd sound like when you woke up because I shoved my knot into you and bred you full again.”

Dom cursed brokenly and twitched around Sam's thick cock, still moving inside him as deep as it could reach without the bulb of Sam's knot locking them together. “I can't believe you could hold off.”

The first thing they'd done when the hotel door closed and the pheromone seal activated was fuck until Sam had shoved his knot into Dom's tight cunt, and then Sam kept rutting and griding as best as he could, driven by the need to mate. They’d only stopped to eat. As tiring as it was—despite all the aphrodisiac pumping through his veins—Dom would never get enough of how insatiable and possessive Sam became during his heat.

“Wasn't easy. Especially when you were so loose when you were sleeping, all sloppy with my cum, so fucking tempting…” Sam's tone was barely more than a growl. The arm around Dom's chest squeezed him and Sam curled impossibly closer, thrusting harder.

He was losing his composure.

But so was Dom, rapidly. A distant part of him was still surprised Sam could bring him to the edge this fast. He grabbed Sam's arm for stability and reached up to yank on one of Sam’s horns as pleasure began sparking along his nerve endings, racing out from his core. Panting, brows pulled together, he whined and bucked his hips when Sam’s fingers started rubbing the oversensitive head of his ovipositor peeking out of its slit above his cunt.  “F-fuck, oh shit, Sam–”

“Gonna come?”

Dom could only whine again and nod his head.

Sam’s warm breath ghosted over the back of Dom’s neck. Soft lips and sharp teeth brushed his skin as Sam spoke, a thread of need woven into the gravel of his voice. “Do it, sweetheart, come for me.”

The permission, the command, sent Dom flying over the edge with a choked-off, reedy whine. Sam fucked him through it, working his dick until Dom’s gasping turned to a pained hiss. With his hand free, he grabbed Dom’s leg and hoisted it up, starting to pound deeper into him.

“W-wait–!” Dom said, and Sam immediately stilled, his whole body vibrating as he fought back against overwhelming instinct.

“Okay?” Sam ground out.

“Wanna face you. When you knot me. Darling, please–” Dom might be begging, but it meant that Sam had to pull out, and clearly the idea wasn’t entirely welcome when Sam’s arms tightened around Dom’s body and he let out a short, involuntary growl. His nails nearly broke Dom’s skin. Dom’s heart raced, not with fear but a sudden flash of near painful arousal at the animalistic drive that held Sam in a vice grip.

But he nuzzled into Dom’s hair and took a few deep breaths before deliberately loosening his hold. “Sounds romantic,” Sam teased, but he carefully pulled out and held himself up while Dom rolled onto his back underneath him.

“You’re rubbing off on me,” Dom said, coyly shrugging as he smiled up at Sam.

Sam’s answering smile started out soft, but grew hungry when he pulled Dom’s hips into his lap. “Gonna do more than that, kitten,” he threatened as he supported himself on one arm over Dom. “Gonna fucking breed you.” Sam then folded him in half before plunging his cock into the wet mess of Dom’s cunt.

Dom’s mouth fell open around a guttural moan. Sam was ruthless. No longer having to hold back, he took what he needed with greedy hands and hard thrusts, fucking Dom so deep he felt it in his throat, the bulge of Sam’s knot slamming into him. Dom did his best to wrap his legs around Sam’s waist, one hand braced on the headboard, the other sinking nails into Sam’s shoulder. Fuck, he might come again. Punched out, desperate ah-ah-ah’s escaped his throat, merging into a loud whine when Sam bit his neck.

With the next thrust, Sam held Dom in a bruising grip and pushed. Dom cried out as his cunt resisted, then gave way to the wide knot with a slick pop and an overwhelming fullness. Sam’s hips twitched and ground down, driven purely by need and sensation, pulling on Dom’s aching hole and rubbing against his g-spot, driving him into another orgasm as Sam made sure they were locked together.  With a few more desperate, aborted thrusts, Sam came with a low, rumbling growl, finally satisfied now that he’d bred his mate so full and so well that nothing could leak out.

Sam let go of Dom’s neck, Dom wincing a little but not quite able to feel the pain yet through the endorphins and arousal still flooding his body. They both shook, breathing heavily, but when Sam rubbed his face against Dom’s cheek he laughed breathlessly and pushed back into the touch, readily turning it into a languid kiss.

They slowly shifted so Dom could lie on top of Sam as they came down, careful and slightly awkward but practised enough by now to not jostle the other too much. Each wince and hiss was followed by an amused sorry and it’s okay until Dom was blissfully plastered along Sam’s body, his tail curled possessively around one of Sam’s legs.

Dom hadn’t admitted to it yet, but this was his favourite part of the whole event: the wordless physical connection after being knotted, happily tied together and revelling in the added closeness of it. Sam was so affectionate each time, all smiles and purring and soft touches. Dom willingly melted into it, basked in it. When Sam wrapped him up in a hug, Dom returned it with a contented sigh and traced absent circles into his short, sweat-damp fur.

“I love you,” Dom whispered, pressing a kiss into Sam’s shoulder.

Sam had his face buried in Dom’s neck again, breathing deep, and he knew that Sam was savouring the way their scents mixed on their skin in a way Dom couldn’t smell. “I love you,” he whispered back. “And thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being here, being mine for a few days.”

Huffing, Dom pushed off of Sam’s chest so he could stare him down while his webbed hand cupped Sam’s cheek. Though he was a little confused, Sam still gazed up at him with open, overwhelming adoration that simultaneously broke and mended Dom’s aching heart. He wanted to do anything to show Sam that he felt the same way, that he would love him the same way for as long as he fucking lived. But he’d start here.

“Not just a few days,” Dom insisted, his thumb brushing Sam’s soft cheek. “Always, darling.”

Blunt and calloused fingertips trailed back down Dom's bare thigh, over the sensitive crease of his hip, along a short knife scar on his tummy. He couldn't look at Sam. Just watched his hand wander. It felt like Sam was cataloguing him, memorising his imperfections and tells, and it made him want to squirm uncomfortably under the attention. He held still, though, and distracted himself by thinking over the words he’d been trying to say all night.

Sam broke the silence first.

“You're tense,” he said. His voice was sandpaper-rough.

Dom hated how easily Sam could read him. But he pursed his lips and only gave a clipped hum in response.

Shifting on the wrinkled bed sheets, Sam drew closer and kissed Dom's shoulder. “You're starting to make me worry I didn't fuck you well enough, but you'd bitch me out for it if I didn't.” That made Dom snort, and he could see Sam's triumphant smile in the corner of his eye. “What's going on, sweetheart?”

“I have news.”

Sam's hand stalled, then laid flat on Dom's sternum, broad and comforting. “Bad news or good?” He asked.

“I'm being shipped off to Cuba. Because that Moretti job went so well,” Dom blurted, then cringed at himself internally. He was fucking trained better that that, what the fuck.

When Sam didn't say anything, Dom finally faced him. He’d been lying on his side as they came down, but now he propped himself up on one arm. The smile that made his face so warm was gone, shut behind a tense, neutral mask that Dom instantly despised.

“When.”

Dom didn't want to tell him. He’d almost decided to not tell him at all and just up and leave instead until Vinny yelled at him. Rightfully called him an asshole, especially for waiting this long. But every time Dom tried to tell him, the words got stuck behind the cage of his teeth.

“When, Dominik?”

“In two days.”

Sam shoved himself out of bed. His hand on Dom's chest was a heavy and pressing weight, suddenly lifted, and the absence left him cold. Sam paced a few steps, running a hand through his sex-mussed hair. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He spat, then turned to Dom, not only angry, but hurt. “How long have you known.”

Grinding his teeth, Dom said, “Over a month.”

Sam's lips twitched up in a rigid sneer as he tilted his head to the side. He didn't say what he clearly wanted to, though; he covered his mouth with his palm and dragged it down, eyes unfocused on the middle distance, breathing heavily.

Fuck. He looked wounded. Dom had thought the worst reaction would be some anger, maybe. Not this. The dread he’d felt about telling him was because he thought Sam wouldn't care. Dom's chest filled with a stifling guilt as he silently watched Sam process the information.

“Don't go.”

Sam was still looking away when he said it. The words were muffled behind his palm, but Dom heard them clearly anyway.

“I have to,” he said after a pause. “Orders came from Father Dearest himself.”

Sighing angrily, Sam glared at Dom. “So he, what, rewards a job well done with exile now and you just fucking obey?  Vinny fights back–”

“Yeah, and I'm not Vinny, if you haven't fucking noticed!”

“Of course I–” Sam cut himself, rolling his eyes. “So you're just going. Do you even want to?”

Dom scoffed. “No.”

Sam spread his arms wide, palms held up. “Then don't go!”

“I don't have a choice,” Dom said, desperately keeping his voice flat though he could feel his emotions threatening to shake right out of his body. His fists bunched in the sheets under him, hard enough to strain the fabric. He needed Sam to stop before–

“Yes, you do–”

“No, I don’t!” Dom swung around to sit at the edge of the mattress, gesturing wildly. “I don't want to uproot my whole fucking life. But I can't say no to this!”

“What even fucking happens, Dominik? If you say no?”

“The Moretti’s, and Salvatore, want my fucking head on a pike now, Sam! What do you think happens!?”

Sam’s jaw snapped shut. He was still furious, but Dom saw the fight leaving him in the way his shoulders started to slump and his mouth twitched downward. The sight made Dom ache. Sam looked ruined, standing alone in the middle of his darkened bedroom.

“I’ll protect you,” Sam said, but he sounded hollow. He and Dom both knew that wouldn’t work, and Dom’s dad wouldn’t allow them to work that closely. He shook his head silently. Sam’s lips curled inward and Dom swore he saw a wetness in his eyes before he looked away, scrubbing a hand over his face.

He had no idea this would hit Sam so hard. Shame sat heavy on his chest and there was no way to relieve it. “I’m sorry, darling,” he said softly, and Sam made a pained noise.

“Don’t—don’t call me that right now, for fuck’s sake, Dom.”

“Okay.”

“How long do you have to stay away for?”

Dom shrugged wearily. “I don't know. Until it's safe, I guess. Or dad needs me back home.”

Sam sighed. Hung his head. Slowly, though, his feet brought him back to the bed, back to Dom, who couldn’t help admiring his naked body when he stood so closely. The lamp cast shadows over Sam, turning him into a chiaroscuro painting. A masterpiece of a handsome man in light and dark, strength and sadness. Dom met his gaze, though, and the artwork fell away to the reality of Sam’s stricken face.

Reaching out, Sam tucked a lock of Dom’s thick, unruly hair behind his ear then cupped his cheeks between both palms. His eyes darted down to Dom's lips briefly and he thought Sam was about to try to kiss him, for the first time since he'd been told not to. Sam put a knee between Dom's spread thighs and bent down over him, tilting his chin up, and Dom's heart raced at the thought of what was coming.

He wasn't sure if he'd stop it or not.

But Sam had apparently already made the choice for him. He touched his forehead against Dom's and held him there, eyes closed. Their faces were so close they were almost kissing and Dom’s heart thundered in his ears. He could feel how Sam’s brow furrowed and closed his own eyes so he couldn’t see what he’d done.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner,” Sam whispered.

“Didn’t think you’d care,” he said, matching Sam’s quiet tone.

Sam groaned frustratedly. He gave Dom’s face a gentle squeeze, pulling back so he could give Dom a tired, serious look and said, “You’re a giant fucking idiot.”

Dom grimaced, glancing away when the words stung more than he thought they could. “Fuck off,” he snapped, and half-heartedly tried to jerk away from Sam’s hands. He didn’t go far at all, and Sam’s hands stayed put. “You said when we started fucking that you didn’t get involved, okay? And I don’t either. What else was I supposed to think.”

Frowning thoughtfully, Sam tipped his head in acknowledgement and said distantly, “Yeah… you’re right.” Then he sighed. The only warning Dom got for what came next was a short, “C’mon,” before Sam stooped and hauled Dom up into the air.

He didn’t have time to make a sound before Sam dropped him on the bed properly and stretched out over him, settling between his thighs. The sheer intensity in the way Sam gazed down at him was overwhelming. He almost couldn’t look, but he did, both wanting to run away from and sink into the naked desire he saw in Sam’s face.

“What the hell?” Dom asked, breathless. Sam pressed their bodies together and Dom’s heart sped up.

“I care. Shit, I care so fucking much, Dominik,” Sam said desperately. “Let me show you?”

The tip of Sam’s nose brushed along Dom’s high cheekbone, their lips so close just one movement would bring them together, but Sam tucked his face into Dom’s neck like he always did, and Dom gasped when he felt Sam’s tongue light on his skin, tasting him.

“Yes. Yeah,” was all he could say, and Sam whispered a thank you into his shoulder.

Sam’s hips slowly rolled into Dom’s, dragging his hardening cock along the seam of Dom’s cunt, rubbing against his dick, which was still sensitive from earlier. Dom rocked with him, matching his pace.

Dom had been rough with Sam earlier, but now that Sam took the lead, he kept their movements unhurried. They were grinding into each other until Sam was fully hard, his thick cock leaking precome, coated in Dom’s slick as it slipped between his folds with a wet sound. Dom canted his hips in a way that had their dicks rubbing together, but Sam made sure it was no more than a tease that only built gradually. All the while, Sam was devouring Dom’s neck, licking and kissing and sucking hickies into his pale skin. Dom wrapped a leg behind Sam’s thigh, pulling him closer.

Fuck, he needed to be closer. 

His fingers dug into the meat of Sam’s bicep, his other hand tangled in Sam’s shaggy hair, partially to grab but also to hold him. Dom let his cheek rest on Sam’s head, basically nuzzling him, unable to hide the affection he felt for the older man anymore. Why hold back if this might be the last time they saw each other?

Sam nuzzled back. Pressed a kiss to Dom’s cheek, then asked, “Can you come like this, kitten?”

“Stop fucking calling me that, shit.”

“Can you?”

“What, from humping each other like teenagers?” he laughed.

“Yeah.” Dom felt his smile, heard it in his voice.

“Maybe if you’d stop teasing me with your—oh.”

Dom groaned as Sam ground their cocks together harder, faster, pleasure zinging up Dom’s spine. He arched into it, gasping, and Sam’s smug laughter made him want to dig his nails in. They kept rutting against each other and the pressure built in Dom’s core, the constant drag of Sam’s cock on his lighting him up. He could feel the fucking vein on Sam’s cock rub against him, felt the way he twitched when Dom would make a noise. Sam nearly slipped inside once and Dom clenched around the fat, blunt head of him before Sam went back to grinding and Dom gave a frustrated huff.

He was done with this. He wanted more. He needed Sam inside him.

“Sam, just fuck me already.”

“Nope. Taking my time with you tonight. Want you to feel it, kitten.” As if to prove it, Sam slowed down, though the press of their bodies stayed the same. It was… fuck, it was better. He could feel everything. Dom’s legs started to twitch at every sensation. Any words of protest were lost to the flare in his gut that grew and spread swiftly. He chased the feeling at Sam’s pace, mouth dropping open soundlessly and his head falling back into the pillows.

Sam’s mouth barely left Dom’s skin. He kissed him where he was allowed, pushing the boundary by getting close to the corner of Dom’s lips but never crossing it. Each one was soft and sweet and the contrast between them and their thorough, messy frotting made him feel insane. He kept clenching around nothing. God, he needed to fucking come.

“Sam,” Dom whined.

“What do you need, sweetheart?”

“Touch me, fuck, please.”

He felt one more kiss on his cheek before Sam moved so he could reach between them. Dom moaned as soon as he felt fingers on his dick, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. “Good?” Sam grunted, and Dom nodded, frantic. The increased pressure was enough. Dom came with a choked groan, his thighs trapping Sam in place.

Before the aftershocks had a chance to stop, Dom opened his eyes, stared Sam down while still trying to catch his breath, and insisted, “In me. Now.” Sam shook his head, mouth opening to speak, but Dom interrupted him. “Not. Not to fuck me. Just wanna feel you.”

“Okay, sweetheart, okay.”

All it took was the slightest change in angle, and Dom felt Sam pressing into him. He watched as Sam’s flushed red cock slid slowly into him, panting at the near painful stretch even though he’d already been full of him before. Fuck, Sam was thick. It was a surprise no matter how often they’d had sex. Dom could never get enough of the feeling.

Sam’s brows were drawn together, and he breathed heavily, also watching where he disappeared inside Dom in one slow stroke. Though part of him wanted to urge Sam on, do something to make him bully right into his cunt, get that delicious, toe-curling pleasure-pain, Dom also… didn’t want that. Not tonight.

Now that the urgency of that first orgasm was over—though his nerves were still lit with it, sparking enticingly the deeper Sam got and making his cunt clench greedily around Sam’s cock—he needed this. The care, the patience. He gazed at Sam instead of where their bodies met and waited for him to look back. Dom had no idea what emotions he’d see when he did. There were too many swirling around in his mind to know.

Sam let out a shuddery breath when he sank fully into Dom, his head hanging. Dom’s eyes almost fluttered shut at how fucking full he was, but he needed to concentrate on Sam. His shoulders were tense from keeping still and holding himself up, so Dom trailed his hand up his arm, over the swell of his shoulder. He just needed to touch him, soothe him maybe.

When he finally lifted his heavy head, Sam’s expression was somewhere between sadness and raw devotion. His dark eyes held so much of both that Dom wished he could crack his ribcage open and give Sam his heart if only to try and take that sadness away. It was only right, when he was the one who’d put it there. All Dom could do instead was cradle Sam’s face in his palm and apologise again.

“I’m sorry, d—Sam. I’m sorry.”

Shaking his head once, Sam leaned into Dom’s touch, turning just enough to kiss his palm. His soft lips lingered, stubble tickling where it rasped against his hand, and Dom let his thumb brush over Sam’s strong cheekbone.

“Nothing you could do,” Sam said.

“Could’ve told you sooner.”

That earned Dom a laugh, warm breath bursting over his palm, until both men gasped when it jostled them, but Dom ignored the reminder that he was stretched open and stuffed so fucking full. Sam was smiling. Barely, but it was enough. That’s all that fucking mattered.

“Yeah, you could’ve. At least you told me at all, though, I guess.”

“Almost didn’t,” Dom admitted.

“Christ, that would’ve been…”

“A shitty fucking move on my part.”

Sam laughed again, and Dom’s hips twitched involuntarily. Holding his gaze, Sam bore down so they were flush together, buried so deep that Dom ached and groaned even while he arched his back to meet him. He wanted to feel Sam’s cock so deep in his cunt he’d still be sore by the time he landed in Cuba.

Dom laid back into the bed fully as Sam stretched out above him. He loved seeing Sam like this, loved being beneath him even if it took time to admit that. Would’ve hated to admit it a few months ago. But looking up at Sam, being able to see his face, being surrounded by him… Dom fucking craved it.

“I would’ve tracked you down,” Sam said, hissing as he pulled out agonisingly slowly. When Sam started to push back in, just as slow, Dom gave a low moan. “If you just fucking left. I’d tear the city apart trying to find you.”

Eyes locked on each other, Dom could see the fierce sincerity behind his words, the determination, and it rattled him to be wanted this much. “Da—Sam–”

“Call me darling, please, sweetheart.”

Dom whimpered, his cunt squeezing around Sam as he kept rocking in and out so maddeningly slowly. “God, fuck, darling, I don’t wanna go.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Sam said. Resting his forehead against Dom’s, both of them a little sweaty, he whispered, “I know.”

Where before Dom wanted to crack his ribs open, now it felt like they were about to burst open of their own accord. The only way to describe what he felt was a word that Dom actively shied away from, something he’d never felt before, not like this. It felt cruel and fucking tragic to realise what it was now, of all fucking times, and he wanted to bury his heart six feet under and, at the same time, let it all spill out, messy and raw and red, for Sam to hear. But if it was cruel to know, it felt worse to say, even if the only way Dom could describe what they were doing was to call it making love.

There was a desperation in the way Sam thrust into him despite the almost lazy pace, and a tenderness that Dom could only hope to match in the way he touched Sam, in how his hips rose to meet Sam’s over and over like gentle waves. They breathed the same air, faces so close Dom’s mouth brushed Sam’s lower lip. He was seized by the desire to kiss Sam, so strong it was terrifying, but he couldn’t. Fuck, he couldn’t. Not like this, before he left. But the need kept burning in him as severely as the pleasure surging through him.

He held the back of Sam’s neck instead, kept him close while he still could, trying to memorise everything. The way Sam smelled like his woodsy shampoo and the musk of his body during sex, how painfully soft his eyes were as he watched Dom slowly come apart underneath him; he didn’t want to forget any of it.

“Sam.” Dom’s voice cracked. “Samuele.”

“Dominik,” Sam said, his voice husky and shaking, “fuck, sweetheart, this is–”

“Yeah,” Dom laughed thickly.

“Not gonna last.”

“Me neither. It’s okay, darling.”

Dom lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies moving together, perfectly matched, that delicious tension in his belly going taught and ready to snap. Sam’s quiet grunts mixed with Dom’s breathless moans and the slick sounds between them. Sam kept a constant pressure on Dom’s g-spot, and though he’d never been able to come just from this, Dom felt his climax coming like standing at the end of a diving board. He was so fucking close.

So was Sam. He was trying to keep steady, but Dom felt him losing rhythm, speeding up accidentally just to catch himself at it like he could barely resist Dom’s cunt.

“Come, darling.” Dom spread his legs wider so Sam could drive as deep as he needed.

With a wounded, hungry growl, Sam thrust faster, only a handful of times before he came, buried as far as he could get, cock pulsing as heat bloomed and that was all it took to tip Dom over too, feeling Sam’s cum inside him as he shuddered and shook apart, crying Sam’s name and half-sobbing as they rocked together to ride out their waning orgasms.

They clung to each other in the aftermath. Dom could feel Sam trembling, knew he was too, and though the longer Sam laid on him the more he felt the weight, Dom didn’t want him to move. He wanted Sam to stay inside him, had the wild and impossible thought that maybe something would stick if they waited long enough. It wouldn’t, he knew, and he shuffled the idea off to where he didn’t have to think about it again for a long fucking time.

Sam was the first to move, groaning as he slipped out and reached over to the nightstand where the cloth they’d used before sat. Normally Dom might complain about it being fucking gross, but he was still coming down from… everything. And he didn’t want Sam to go too far from him. Not yet. So he took the cloth when Sam handed it over, cleaned himself up, and watched Sam follow suit before he flopped face-down onto the mattress with a sigh.

Dom linked their pinkies together on a whim. It made Sam giggle, and when Dom glanced over he was giving Dom a smile that was almost shy and reignited the stubborn, powerful need to kiss Sam silly. He still didn’t give in. Just gave his pinkie a squeeze and looked away before he did something stupid.

Comfortable silence laid over them like a blanket, but Dom’s mind, once it came back, started whirling again. Sam was watching him, and could probably see the cogs turning in Dom’s mind. He was patient, though. He didn’t press for anything. Dom appreciated it; so much had happened, he’d felt so fucking much, that he needed time to sort through it all or else it’d all come out in an incomprehensible mess.

But there was one thing Sam hadn’t said, throughout the whole night, and it clung to his thoughts like a burr until he had to speak it aloud to get rid of it.

“So. Will you miss me?” Dom asked quietly as he stared at the ceiling.

Sam scoffed. “I thought I made that obvious,” he said, sounding a little offended, and rightfully so, Dom figured. When he didn't respond, just kept staring up, his lips drawn in a tense line, Sam sighed. “What do you want me to say?”

“Lie to me.”

Dom's eyes flicked over to Sam and found himself being watched, puzzled at, a thoughtful frown pulling down his lips. Dom squirmed a bit, but didn't look away.

There was no way he could doubt how Sam felt now. He cared so much more than Dom even hoped to believe, but this was the last time they'd see each other for who knows how long. Hearing the raw truth of how deeply Sam felt just before he had to leave was too much for Dom to bear, no matter how badly he wanted to hear it. After the way they’d… fucked, he was so fucking fragile he could feel the hairline cracks in his composure.

But as a bit, a joke, a lie? It gave Dom enough space to listen, and, he hoped, it could give Sam a chance to say as much as he needed, to get it off his chest.

Shifting, Sam propped himself up so he was nearly on top of Dom again, his side pressed against Sam's chest. All Dom could see was Sam, and it was almost terrifying to think that he might not get this again.

Sam's fingers traced the angles of Dom's jaw as he spoke. “I won't think about you all the time,” he began quietly, “I won't wake up wondering about how you are, or what you're doing, or if you’re safe. I'm not going to worry if you'll miss me too. I don't–”

He cut himself off. Dom's heart raced, unable to break away from the intense look in Sam's eyes until Sam did it himself, glancing at Dom's lips with a sad twitch of a smile before leaning down to kiss his cheek so sweetly.

“I won't miss you, Dominik,” he whispered into his skin, the tone of his voice so earnest it hurt to hear.

Without thinking, Dom tugged Sam close, wrapping his arms around him, tangling his fingers in Sam's hair as he held him. Sam melted into it with a sigh. Dom didn’t know he’d needed this until something settled in his mind and the tension he’d been holding in his body fled.

“I won't miss you at all. Never. Not even a little,” Dom said, feeling a little victorious when Sam huffed and smiled where his face was nestled into the crook of his neck. And, feeling a bit brave, he admitted, “I won't… I won't worry that you'll forget me.”

“I'll forget you as soon as you get on the plane,” Sam teased as he kissed his jaw.

Dom snorted and said, “Your object permanence is shitty.”

“Yeah. It's a problem.” They both laughed a little, but it died off quickly. Sam's arm snaked under Dom's ribs to pull him impossibly closer, their legs slotting together like puzzle pieces. “I couldn't forget you just as much as I couldn't help missing you every fucking day,” Sam confessed.

“Liar,” Dom said, even while hating that he couldn't take just one moment seriously.

“You know I'm not.”

Dom swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I know.” Snuggling in closer and resting his cheek on top of Sam’s head, he whispered, “I know now. Sorry.”

“S’okay,” Sam whispered back. He kissed Dom’s jaw again, a few times, slow and gentle, as Dom’s free hand trailed up and down his arm as he soaked up as much time and affection as he could. It was so much less time than Dom wanted, and more affection than he felt he deserved. But he’d always been greedy, so he’d take everything Sam gave him anyway.

“Can I see you tomorrow?” Sam asked.

Shaking his head, Dom said regretfully, “Spending all day with my family. I’d sneak away but I doubt mom would let me get away with it. And I’d invite you, but…” Sam gave an unhappy grunt that made Dom chuckle lightly. They both knew who’d disapprove of that.

“Can I at least drive you to the airport? See you off?”

“Dad asked Vinny to do it. And. I’m not allowed contact with anyone but my family. No one’s allowed to so much as fucking visit me, either. Too risky.”

The arm around Dom’s back squeezed him, Sam’s fingertips digging into Dom’s side. “So this is really it.”

Sam’s voice was so flat and dull that Dom wanted to slap himself, at the very least, for being such a massive asshole. He nodded.

“I’m so fucking pissed at you,” Sam muttered.

“Yeah. I deserve it.”

Sam gave a heavy sigh before pulling back enough to look at Dom. “Don’t do that.” Dom looked away, but Sam kept going. “Don’t. I forgive you, too.”

Dom felt his face threatening to crumble, the thin façade he’d been clinging to this whole time about to give way to the weight of Sam’s honesty on top of all the grief he’d shoved down just to get through this whole fucking night. His chest tightened, and when his breath hitched Dom cleared his throat to try to hide it. Then Sam said a quiet, sad, “Sweetheart,” and Dom hiccuped a laugh that sounded like a sob. 

He was immediately enveloped in Sam’s arms, his warm weight a familiar comfort that Dom burrowed into. He allowed himself a sniffle or two before composing himself, breathing only a little unsteadily as he got his emotions under control, though he nearly lost it again when he felt the slight stutter in Sam’s chest too.

“Please stay the night,” Sam said, his voice thick. “Just once.”

“I will, my darling.” And Dom, for once, kissed Sam’s cheek. Sam leaned into the touch like he’d been starving for it.

“Your darling?” Sam sounded a bit like he’d had the wind knocked out of him, and Dom knew he needed to drive the point home if he sounded that surprised by such a tiny change. Needed Sam to know, even if he only had enough bravery for a handful of words.

“My darling.” He kissed Sam’s other cheek. “Mine until you don’t want to be anymore.”

Laughing in relief, Sam pressed his forehead to Dom’s. Though he smiled, he still looked like Dom was ruthlessly breaking his heart. Dom wished, so fucking much, that he could stay and hold the pieces together.

“Yours,” Sam said, “for—for as long as you’ll have me.”

Thanks so much for reading!! Please consider giving this a reblog and check out the other works for these two if you have time!

I reread all of our letters over the years you were away and I know your first letter back to me was probably one of your petty, shitty little Fuck You’s because I stopped sending my letters. I say sending because I didn’t stop writing them. Jesus, Sweetheart, I was so fucking in love with you, even back then. I was fucking insane about you and I knew it the fucking moment you got out of my truck at the airport.

Do you know how close I was to chasing you down and telling you? Right then and there? Jesus fucking Christ, you probably would’ve stabbed me and I would’ve deserved it for dumping all that at your feet right before you had to leave for however long your old man told you to. So, I didn’t. 

But I watched you walk into that airport, and I waited to see if you would turn around, even once, just to look at me one more time. I told myself that if you looked back at me, then maybe you were in love with me, too, and I would fucking disregard your stupid, bitchy “don’t call, don’t text, don’t visit” garbage. But you didn’t. 

You just disappeared into the airport and I had to continue on with my life as if I didn’t just fucking let one of the brightest parts walk out of it.

God, Dom, in your stupid beautiful shitty letter you said you wouldn’t change this, and that’s real big of you I guess. I’m a selfish man, though, and if I could, I would fucking rewrite it all so we weren’t doing this. You in a fucking crematorium and me more than half a bottle of whiskey into a letter to my dead fucking soulmate a dead man. We’d have a goddamn happy ending that neither of us probably deserve because I don’t want to do this without you.

And ultimately, I would rewrite all of this so that I actually told you how you made me feel. I would rewrite things so I chased after you at the airport and told you I love you, even if you would’ve stabbed me for it. I would rewrite all of this so I told you I love you all those fucking months ago when we laughed together on the sidewalk outside your apartment and then you kissed me and dragged me back inside. Yeah, I remember that, too. It was an amazing night.

I don’t know how to end this, because if I do it’s over. I’ll finally have the last word and I don’t want it. I want you to fucking be here to scoff at me, to critique my writing, to call it cliche and boring and boorish and shit. I want this to be something I’m going to put in the mail for you to open it and read it and get your fucking smell all over it because you’re fucking alive. I have your fucking cologne but it smells all wrong because it’s missing YOU, and it makes me want to die every time I open that stupid bottle. But I do it anyway because it’s the closest I’ll ever get to kissing you again.

I need to finish this, so I’ll just bite the fucking bullet and do it. I can’t write this forever because we’re having your stupid interment in a couple days before Vinny, Kez, and the baby go away. It’s a small thing, don’t worry, just a handful of us. The big one that’ll piss you off is going to happen after we deal with the shitstain that got you.

I love you, Dom, and I hate myself everyday for not telling you. It is one of my biggest fucking regrets in my life. Every single day I spent kissing you and not telling you what it meant to me will fucking haunt me forever. What could we have been if I wasn’t a fucking coward? Would the ring you gave me mean what I wish it did? And I am a coward, more than you were, okay? I knew I was in love with you for eleven fucking years and I didn’t say shit about it.

Anway, save me a spot in whatever toasty spot of Hell you’ve probably taken over. I’ll see you when I get there, Sweetheart. Forgive me for hoping it’s sooner rather than later. I told you I’m a selfish man.

Your darling,

Sam

Sam wasn’t sure when they laid down, but soon enough he was on his back, watching the stars with Dom. They were laying in such a way that their heads were next to each other, but their bodies were stretched out in opposite directions; whenever they turned their heads to face each other, it almost looked like Dom was upside-down. One time when they looked at each other, Sam couldn’t help the little laugh that left his throat, and the way Dom grinned before covering his mouth and looking back up at the stars again had the void in Sam’s chest aching.

“Fuck, it’s beautiful,” Dom sighed, gesturing at the sky with his chin.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed easily without looking away from Dom’s profile, tearing his gaze away just before the other man glanced at him again. Before he could think better of it, Sam said, “I wish I'd met you under different circumstances, Dominik.”

Next to him, the man went very still. It wasn’t like he moved a lot, especially when they were quiet like this, but there was still a very noticeable lack of movement now.

“Why?” Dom’s voice was quiet, patient in the way beautiful, deadly creatures of the sea were. One misstep in the conversation that followed would have Dom storming off to his quarters and unlikely to speak to Sam like this again for weeks.

Lifting a hand to his chest, Sam stroked the tip of his forefinger up and down the jagged, messy scar that was there, exposed to the night air with the open neckline of his shirt.

“I want to kiss you, but it feels wrong to want that since you hate being here,” he admitted, clenching his jaw as he squinted up at the stars. “It feels cruel to even admit it to you now.”

If Sam had thought Dom was still before, he now knew he was mistaken. Sam wasn’t even sure if Dom was still next to him, that the man hadn’t turned to mist and disappeared completely.

“What circumstances would you have preferred meeting me under?” Dom asked after a few long moments and Sam couldn’t tell if he wanted to sigh with relief or grimace.

“I wish I had met you a century ago, before I became this,” he admitted, too quickly to play it off like he hadn’t thought about it a thousand times. Then, a bit quieter, he added, “or after you actually died, while I was ferrying your soul through the Locker. You could’ve asked to join my crew, to be here.”

His words were met with more quiet and stillness from Dom, and Sam let out a tired, sad sigh.

“I should have declined your captain’s deal, Dominik. Ignored their summons. I have rules and I broke them,” Sam continued when Dom didn’t ask another question. “Now you’re miserable, separated from everyone you love— your partner, your captain, your family— and I have the audacity to desire you as if I haven’t taken enough from you.”

There was another beat of silence, long enough that Sam started moving to get up. In a flurry of movement that was too fast for Sam to see and almost too graceful to be fully human, Dom spun around and was on top of him, pressing his mouth desperately against Sam’s.

Sam didn’t waste a single moment to hesitation, immediately tangling a hand in the hair at the back of Dom’s head. His mouth opened under Dom’s questing tongue as his other arm wrapped around his waist. Sam wasn’t sure how long that first kiss lasted, but when they pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their mouths red and wet.

It couldn’t be helped, the pang of hopeful sadness that thrummed deep in the empty void of Sam’s chest as he stared up at the beautiful man on top of him. 

Dom’s expression twisted subtly, as if he was about to say something sharp, but when he opened his mouth, he said, “I hate this less because of you. It’s… better because of you.”

Before Sam could properly process those words, Dom was kissing him again and he couldn’t help but meet the ferocity in kind.

When he felt his body begin to stir below the belt, Sam didn’t even pull away from the kiss to ask, “How far are we taking this, sweetheart?”

Dom shuddered. “Don’t have to go further than your bed, but I can take you right here if you want,” he responded, words muffled against Sam’s lips as he began to grind their hips together.

With a bright laugh, Sam began tugging at Dom’s clothes insistently. “Have to get this out of the way then,” he hummed before wrapping both hands around Dom’s hips to hold him in place while he rocked his hardening cock up against him.

Dom’s response was immediate; a sharp gasp as he sat up straight, head thrown back as he rode out the sensation of their dicks pressed together through their layers of clothing. With another soft sound, Dom’s hands reached down to start pulling at the ties of Sam’s pants, getting them open so he could get his smallclothes out of the way as well. When Dom’s hand closed around the shaft of his cock, he gasped and looked down at Sam hungrily.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Dom all but whimpered, squeezing Sam before slowly stroking him.

Smirking, Sam rumbled out a low, “Flatterer.”

Impatient now that he had Dom’s hand on him, Sam managed to rip the seams of the man’s pants and smallclothes open. With clothes out of the way, Sam returned his hands to Dom’s hips and dragged him down against him, rocking the length of his cock up and down the seam of Dom’s dripping cunt.

He wanted to see what sort of noises he could drag out of Dom just like that, but soon the teasing pleasure became too much for even Sam to bear. Tightening his grip on Dom’s hips, Sam rocked him back while he ground his cock up against his dick. Then, as he pulled Dom’s hips forward again, the head of Sam’s cock passed over the dripping opening of his cunt. Timing his next thrust while guiding Dom’s hips back again, Sam sunk inside the man’s wet cunt until he bottomed out.

“Fuck!” Dom shouted happily, rapturously even, before he slapped a hand over his mouth. His other hand was braced on Sam’s chest now, his nails digging into the skin around the scar.

Without pulling out, Sam rolled them until he was looming over Dom, giving him a few brutal thrusts before dragging the man’s hand away from his own mouth.

“Let me hear you, sweetheart,” Sam ordered in a low growl, nosing at the underside of Dom’s jaw as he got his thumbs hooked under the man’s knees and slowly folded him in half beneath him. “Let the whole Locker hear you.”

After that, everything went a bit fuzzy as he fucked Dom right there on the deck of his ship. From that point on, Dom was plenty vocal, moaning and whining under Sam, clinging to him and screaming his praises for Sam’s cock. Sam was desperate to keep him at that high, to drag Dom through as many orgasms as he could manage before letting himself come apart completely.

By Sam’s count, he managed to fuck Dom through two releases before he finally let himself go, pumping Dom’s perfect cunt full of his cum. He shivered at the way Dom sobbed out, “Jones!”

A large part of Sam wished, not for the first time, that Dom knew his actual name.

Pulling out before the aftershocks of his own release were fully over, Sam crawled down Dom’s body and pressed his tongue inside the man’s sloppy cunt, moaning at the taste of them together there. With single-minded purpose, Sam ate his own cum out of Dom, and when he was done with that, he took Dom’s pretty little dick between his lips. Sam worked him until he came with a shattered scream that was guaranteed to wake up half the crew.

A few minutes later, Sam was catching his breath, cheek resting on a shivering, pale thigh while Dom played with his hair. The position wasn’t particularly comfy on the ground, but Sam was content to stay put for as long as Dom wanted.

“Why didn’t you keep to your rules?” Dom asked after a few beats of quiet, and Sam looked up the line of Dom’s body. The man was watching him, frowning slightly despite the blissed-out expression he was still somehow wearing. “When Kez summoned you?”

Sam let out a slow breath and kissed Dom’s thigh. “It was clear how much that entire crew cared about you. I haven’t seen a crew so united around a single person outside my own, so I was intrigued. Moved, you could say, even. I wanted to know what sort of person rallied such loyalty,” he said after some thought before smirking. “Imagine my surprise when you turned out to be a massive cunt.”

There was a deeply sad twist to Dom’s expression that brought back Sam’s regret full force all over again. The guilt was even worse with the sweat of their coupling still cooling on their skin. At Sam’s jab, Dom visibly stifled his sadness under a laugh, kicking at Sam ineffectually and saying, “You asshole!”

Kissing Dom’s thigh one last time, Sam crawled back up the length of the man’s body until he could cup his cheek and meet his eyes properly. “I’m not necessarily sorry that you’re here, but I am sorry that you’re trapped. If I had the power to free you, I would. If you believe only one thing I say, please believe that.”

Dom squirmed under Sam’s intensity and nodded. “I believe you,” he said after a moment, and he looked almost like he was surprised that he meant it. Then he asked, “Would I be able to visit them at least?”

Sam considered that for a moment; it was risky letting the Dutchman be seen too often, especially near other ships. That was how inconvenient legends started to resurface. It would be safer to do it on the open sea, to locate Dom’s crew and let him off the ship for a couple days. They wouldn’t be able to leave with Dom in tow because his life was tied to the Dutchman, so there was no real worry of them running off.

But that just reaffirmed all of Sam’s guilt. Meeting on the water felt like he was just extending the boundaries of Dom’s prison without allowing him any real freedom. He wasn’t getting away from Sam, and there was always that chance that Sam might be spying or could appear out of thin air. Dom’s real crew would never relax.

The sea was Sam’s domain.

“Pick a port, pick a date, and send a letter to your crew. I’ll make sure you’re there to meet them,” Sam said, his tone firm with his decision, ignoring the way that Dom’s eyes widened. “We can test how long you can be off the ship before you start fading.”

“You can’t make port! That’s too dangerous,” Dom insisted, and Sam’s chest ached where his heart should be.

“The closest to freedom I can give you is arranging to meet your crew on land, Dominik. I cannot follow you, so you will be completely alone with them,” Sam explained softly, stroking a knuckle across Dom’s cheekbone. “You can spend as much time with them as the curse allows.”

Dom stared up at Sam, frowning at him as he thought. Eventually, though, his expression softened, and he pulled Sam into a slow, almost sweet kiss.

“Thank you, Jones,” Dom whispered against Sam’s lips, and that soft gratitude broke down what was left of Sam’s resolve.

“Sam,” he whispered between their mouths. “My name— before I was Davy Jones, my name was Sam.”

Dom pulled away and stared up at him, almost alarmed. “You give too much away, Captain.”

At that, Sam just laughed and shrugged. “I’ve told you already that I’m tired, that I’m not concerned about my secrets coming to light, even if that means I finally get my turn to be ferried across the Locker,” he said almost flippantly.

Dom frowned and shook his head a bit. “You’re a fucking idiot,” he eventually said, pulling Sam back into a slow kiss before adding, “but thank you. It’s— fuck, just, thank you, Captain.”

There was a pang in Sam’s chest again at Dom’s subtle refusal to use his actual name, but at least he didn’t use Jones. Sam wouldn’t push him on it, he decided. 

Letting it go, Sam pulled Dom into another kiss and whispered, “Of course, Dominik.”

Sam’s hands held Dom’s slender hips firmly against the door while he slowly pressed his body closer, effectively trapping him. Dom didn’t fight it. He arched into the weight of Sam’s body instead, as best as he could under his strong grip. Each point of contact made Sam crave more. And Dom was smirking in that infuriating way of his that made Sam hot under the collar, chin tilted up defiantly, head to the side, his stormy eyes dark and smug like a dare. A challenge he’d been issuing all damn night.

He’d managed to control himself, even as Dom hovered around him like an annoying goth hummingbird in the kitchen while Sam had cooked dinner. And because Dom could never keep his hands to himself when they’re alone, Sam had to endure every touch and caress without his resolve breaking. If he broke, he’d never get dinner ready.

Dom knew it, too, and proceeded to be a massive fucking pest.

He’d dart into Sam’s space and steal a slice of cheese, a chunk of tomato. Popped it into his mouth with a self-satisfied grin before Sam could slap his hand away and obscenely sucked his fingers clean. He’d had to re-tie his apron twice because Dom had sidled up behind him, wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and distracted him by nipping at his ear so his clever fingers could loosen the knot. Sam should’ve learned the first time, but feeling Dom’s chest against his back, his teeth on his skin as he murmured about dessert, was too much of a distraction.

It was more annoying that Sam couldn’t even be annoyed at him. As much as he tried not to, every time Dom slinked up to bug him, touch him, tease him, Sam smiled, begrudgingly fond. It fed the desire slowly burning in his belly, the tension between them simmering like the sauce bubbling away on the stove.

Even dinner was a trial. Sitting across from Dom at the kitchen island—their kitchen island, in their new condo—and not even bothering with the dining table, they traded jokes and stories about their day and heated looks over their wine glasses. He’d wanted to kiss Dom so badly when he’d laughed loud and bright at Sam’s dry humour, black hair threaded with silver spilling over his shoulders when he threw his head back. Getting that sound out of him felt like he’d won the lottery, made him want to test his luck again, especially because Dom had this habit of hiding his mouth behind the back of his hand, or turning away, when he smiled or laughed that much.

He got shy. That was more thrilling than anything else Sam had ever done, no matter how often he’d seen it.

So once their plates were cleared and the last of the wine had been sipped, Sam’s resolve crumbled. He left their dirty dishes on the island so he could coax Dom off the stool and towards his bedroom for dessert, and this time, it was Sam who wouldn’t keep his hands to himself. He felt he’d earned that.

Now he had this addictive man under his hands, against his body, in their room, and Sam couldn’t get enough. He had to stop and stare at Dom almost in awe, taking in the mirth that wrinkled the corners of his eyes, the light flush on his cheekbones, his wine-tinted, kissed-red lips. Moments like this bowled Sam over sometimes; he had known Dom for so long that in one look he could catalogue all the changes that time had caused against all the things that stayed the same. And he loved every bit of it. Every bit of Dom.

“I know I’m pretty, my darling, but you’re starting to drool,” Dom said, looping one long finger through the simple gold chain around Sam’s neck. He tugged at it and Sam followed easily, thoughtlessly.  “Why just stare when you could be fucking me brainless?”

Sam scoffed. “Christ, you're so full of yourself.” He wanted to sound annoyed and was only half successful, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“And yet.” Another tug brought their faces so close that each low, syrupy word Dom spoke made their lips brush together, just slightly. Temptingly. “I want to be full of you. Been waiting all fucking day for this.”

Dom's free hand reached down between them to palm at Sam's half-hard cock. He let out a small groan, twitching into the touch as Dom slowly stroked and squeezed him over his jeans. Deft fingers left light, teasing touches along his cock that only made him want. He needed skin on skin, craved the feeling of sinking into Dom's wet, warm cunt. More than that, he just wanted to be closer, always closer. Sam groaned again, this time frustrated.

“Then why are you teasing me?” he complained gruffly, though he knew the answer.

“Because it's fun,” Dom said.

Sam shook his head, unable to shake off his smile. “You’ve had your fun all night.” Leaning in, he brushed his nose along the tattooed column of Dom's throat, pleased when it pulled a shiver from him. The scent of his cologne—something musky and sharp, refined and animalistic—was strong here in the tender places of his body. Sam breathed it in deeply from his pulse point and hummed.

That Dom willingly bared his throat for him made Sam insane every time. It took over ten years to get through all of Dom’s carefully constructed walls and the reward was so sweet. 

Sam took his time kissing up Dom’s neck, across his cheek. He poured his adoration into soft, scarred skin, letting Dom soak it up. When Sam reached his lips, instead of kissing him, he pulled back and smirked at the look of annoyance he got for it. Dom tipped his chin up, a silent question, but still Sam didn’t kiss him.

His smirk grew wider when Dom said, tetchy, “Do I have to ask?”

Sam shrugged. “I like hearing you say it,” he said. It took a lot of restraint not to laugh when Dom’s eyes narrowed further. He’d cave. Sam saw it coming in the twitch at the corner of his lips. Dom sighed.

“Please kiss me, Sam,” he asked, irritated and sincere, and like every time Dom had asked before, Sam lit up inside and immediately gave him what they both wanted.

Kissing Dom was the best fucking thing. Sam was gentle at first, basically chaste, kissing Dom again, and again. Slowly, deliberately, revelling in the feeling of his soft lips. Dom melted into him, matching each kiss with the same kind of affection. He gasped when Sam’s hands inched up under the hem of his untucked shirt, and Sam deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting softly, hungrily. The arousal burning in his belly grew steadily hotter as Dom’s tongue caressed his, their breaths mingling, kisses turning messy but no less thorough. Sam chased the taste of the Sangiovese that still lingered, acidic and sweet.

Sam grazed his fingers along Dom’s skin as each fiddly little button on his stupidly expensive black shirt came undone. Dom slipped out of it, letting it fall to his feet, and Sam began moving down, pressing his lips to the familiar angles of his collarbones, the planes of his chest. Flicked at one of Dom’s pierced nipples with the tip of his tongue and then caught it between his teeth and pulled; smirked at the small, cut-off whine that followed, then soothing him with the flat of his tongue.

When Sam dropped to one knee he looked up at Dom to see a flash of shock, quickly hidden by a complicated expression he couldn't make sense of.

“You okay?” Sam asked, resting a hand on Dom's thigh.

“Yeah…” Dom reached out to brush a few locks of hair away from Sam's forehead, twisting one around his finger to make it extra wavy before he tucked it in with the rest. The smile that broke out across his face was so painfully tender Sam couldn't help but return it. “I really am.”

He kept that hand in Sam’s hair and undid his belt with the other, the hiss of leather on fabric making Sam’s cock twitch as it reminded him of the times they used that belt in other ways. Dom tossed it out of the way though, and Sam helped him out of his pants, broad palm cupping his pale, wiry calf while he eased the fabric off of Dom’s foot. 

Once he was naked, Sam’s eyes and hands eagerly followed the long, angular line of Dom’s body, stopping when he had his hands on Dom’s hips. Guided by the gentle hold on his hair, Sam kept his eyes locked on Dom’s as he kissed up one thigh and along the sensitive crease of his hip. He ducked down to tease the tip of his tongue along the seam of Dom’s cunt, finding him already slick. Sam groaned at the taste and delved deeper, making Dom gasp as he slowly lapped at his wet folds, then over Dom’s entrance to his dick.

“Taste so fucking good,” he murmured, and Dom huffed a laugh.

“You always say that,” Dom said like he was annoyed, but Sam knew it was fondness.

Sam smirked as he lifted Dom’s leg over his shoulder, making him shudder as he grazed his fingers along the inside of his knee before holding his hips again. “And I always will.”

“Fucking—oh—sap.” Dom went breathless when Sam dived back in, chuckling. Dom wasn’t any less sentimental. He was just as bad, if not worse, but Sam wasn’t going to interrupt himself again to say so when he’d much rather be eating him out.

He laved the flat of his tongue through Dom’s folds, just barely dipping into his entrance each time, toying with the hood and head of his perfect dick before repeating the process, tasting and teasing. He kept making these small sounds that drove Sam a little crazy. The grip on his hair tightened, the slight pain stoking his desire, and Dom’s leg started to squeeze his shoulder, asking Sam for more before Dom could even get the words out. But Sam kept it up until he heard a hollow thud and a frustrated whine.

“Sam, fucking—please,” Dom begged. Sam paused, glancing past the dark, trimmed hair he had his face buried in. Dom was breathing in a deep, measured way that Sam knew was his way of keeping level-headed, but his head was thrown back against the door and he covered one of his squeezed-shut eyes with one hand. Christ, he was gorgeous, and he always said please so prettily. 

Sam wrapped his lips around Dom’s dick with a groan, sucking and licking at him. His hips tried to buck against his mouth but Sam held him still. The moans he was pulling out of Dom now had his cock achingly hard and he didn’t care. They’d get to it. Dom deserved all of his attention.

It wasn’t long before Dom’s legs started to tremble, the heel in Sam’s back digging in urgently. Sam slipped one finger into Dom’s cunt easily, then worked in a second, a third, until he was keening desperately as Sam found his sweet spot and didn’t relent. He was so fucking wet every thrust of his fingers made a squelching sound. Sam licked lower just to taste more of the familiar tang of him, dipped his tongue in alongside his fingers and made Dom heave a sharp breath. When he got his mouth around Dom’s cock again, Dom started babbling.

“Fu–fuck, Sam, darling, don’t fucking stop, g-god, I love you and your fucking mouth,” he said, panting, and when Sam gave an amused hum Dom whimpered at the sensation before continuing, “perfect fucking mouth, perfect man, shit.” Dom’s voice trailed off into frantic breaths. Each exhale carried a needy sound and his legs were fully shaking now. The praise made Sam giddy. Every time Dom called him perfect, said I love you, Sam wanted to hide, kiss Dom senseless, something. Dom loved him. Sam would never get tired of hearing it.

Slick began to pool in the palm of Sam’s hand. Nails dug painfully into his scalp. Sam knew he was close and eagerly sought the prideful high of making Dom come. When he did his whole body went rigid, a loud, deep groan rising from his throat as he twitched against Sam’s mouth and clenched around his fingers. Sam kept sucking and fingering him through it until Dom pushed him away with a shuddery gasp, his knees wobbling so much that Sam rasped, “C’mere,” and took Dom’s weight as he half collapsed onto Sam’s lap.

Laughing breathlessly, Dom tucked his face into Sam’s neck as they held each other. Sam kissed his shoulder and rubbed soothing circles over his back, more than content to let Dom collect himself even though he strained painfully against the fly of his jeans. But he’d wait, not expecting anything. He’d wait for him forever.

Dom pressed leisurely kisses up Sam’s throat before he reached his lips and shifted up Sam’s thighs to sit tantalisingly close to his dick. But he paused to look at Sam and cup his face in his palms, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, so openly, deeply loving that Sam felt… divine. Dom kissed him then and the whole world fell away. Sam couldn’t describe the way Dom’s lips touched his as anything other than devout. Breath hitching, Sam’s brows knit together as he held Dom close and kissed him back just as gently, as devoted.

“I love you so much, Samuele,” Dom whispered reverently when he broke away.

Sam kissed him once, his lips lingering before he confessed, “I love you too, Dominik, so much it hurts sometimes.”

“I don’t want you to hurt, my darling.”

“It’s a good kind of hurt.” Sam looked up at Dom, brushed his thumb over his bottom lip and said, “But another kiss could help.”

Dom rolled his eyes a little, but kissed Sam’s thumb through his fond smile. Wrapping his fingers around Sam’s wrist, he took Sam’s hand and kissed his palm, then his wrist, then the familiar knife tattooed on his forearm. He wondered if Dom could feel the way his heart beat for him under his lips.

“Better?” Dom asked, and Sam hummed thoughtfully.

“Might need a few more,” he said, and caught Dom’s lips in another kiss as he hitched him higher on his lap. Dom gasped into Sam’s mouth when his cunt rubbed against the bulge in Sam’s jeans. Groaning low and hungry when Dom started rocking his hips, Sam murmured, “Wanna be inside you, sweetheart, please.”

“Then we should get off the floor, unless you want to fuck me here.”

“You deserve the bed.”

Dom huffed, amused, but Sam tightened his grip around him and, easily keeping Dom in his arms, stood in one smooth motion despite his knees popping. The sound made Dom laugh more, mouth pulled into a teasing smirk as he said, “Watch your knees, old man.”

Sam scoffed but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead he walked the short distance to the bed, knelt on the mattress, and carefully laid Dom out on the bedspread, following him down to lick into his mouth, slow and sweet, before he stood to undress. Dom shuffled up the bed to get comfortable, lounging against the pillows, legs spread to show off his soaked cunt as he lazily stroked his dick between two fingers.

He was so gorgeous, spread out on their bed like that, lithe and relaxed. Dim light from the window made his skin glow like silver, the deep blue of his eyes bright and intense as he watched Sam strip. He preened a bit under Dom’s attention, flexing as he shed his clothes and smirking when Dom’s eyes darkened with want. Sam sighed once his cock was finally free from his jeans, stroking himself just enough to make Dom lick his lips.

“Come here,” he demanded, stretching out enticingly, and Sam, always helplessly drawn in by him, obeyed.

Climbing onto the bed, he took the hand Dom was using to touch himself and brought it to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean. It pulled a needy groan from Dom’s chest. He took his fingers from Sam’s mouth and wrapped them around the back of his neck to drag him close, and Sam laid his body along Dom’s in one sinuous line. Finally they were skin to skin and Sam’s nerves lit up at the touch. He asked, “What do you need, Dominik?”

“Need you to fuck me,” Dom said, rocking his hips up. Sam’s cock rubbed against Dom’s pelvis and he exhaled shakily, grinding down on him.

Humming, Sam traced his nose down Dom’s cheek, kissed his jaw. “Not gonna fuck you tonight, kitten.” He waited for Dom’s offended, bewildered noise before he continued. “Gonna make love to you.”

Dom glared and shook his head, unwillingly smiling the whole time. “Ugh, you’re such a romantic,” he complained, but there was a blush to his face that wasn’t there before. Sam kissed his cheekbones where the colour was darkest and felt the warmth against his lips.

“You love it.”

“Only because it’s you.” 

Sam grinned, painfully fond. “Guess I’m pretty lucky then.” 

It was so easy to slip into Dom. Sam barely pulled back, didn't need to look down; he knew Dom’s body as well as he knew his own. His cock slid through Dom’s wet folds, and Sam kept his eyes on him as the head caught on his entrance and he sank in. Dom’s eyelids fluttered and they both sighed at the feeling of being stretched open. Sam wanted to take it slow and savour this, to sink all the way into Dom’s cunt and stay there in that tight heat he’d been longing for all night. Reaching up, he brushed some of Dom’s hair out of his face, cupping his cheek as they moved together. 

He loved watching Dom’s face like this. Every twitch of an expression, nothing hidden anymore between them. Dom couldn’t hold his gaze like this for the longest time. He’d eventually look away, make Sam break eye contact, anything to avoid being seen. But he didn’t look away anymore. And the way Dom looked up at Sam now, like he saw something sacred in him…

Sam had to kiss him. He pinned Dom down gently and poured every bit of love into the kiss, feeling more than hearing Dom moan against his lips. When he fully sank home into Dom Sam gasped into his mouth, Dom licking into him with a needy whine.

He stayed there, just like he wanted, feeling Dom clench and twitch around him. And Dom didn’t squirm, didn’t complain, even brought Sam’s hips in closer with his leg and kept him there, buried so fucking deep they could’ve been one person. They just laid there, surrounded by each other, kissing for so long that Sam lost track of time. He lived for this intimacy, the feeling of their lips and tongues, sharing adoring touches, and the way he fit so fucking perfectly in him. He really was at home, here in Dom’s arms. Anywhere Dom was, Sam wanted to be, always.

“My darling,” Dom murmured so sweetly that Sam had to kiss him again.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“If you don’t move now,” he said with a threatening tilt to his head, “I’m going to throw the worst tantrum you’ve ever fucking seen.”

Sam’s loud laughter shook them both, and when he did as he was told, pulling out deliciously slowly, Dom’s smile widened even as he hummed thickly, his head falling back against the pillows. “God, I love you,” Sam confessed for the hundredth time.

“And I love you. Now make love to me, darling.”

“Anything you want.”

Sam pushed back in just as slow, both of them sighing in relief. He kept up that pace, letting his pleasure build like warm coals instead of a blazing fire. Dom met his thrusts with languid rolls of his hips, his fingers raising goosebumps where they roamed over Sam’s body, only sometimes using his nails as more of a tickle than a scratch, making Sam shiver at the faint sparks left in their wake.

The only time they looked away from each other was when they kissed, messy and slow and needy. Sam wanted this forever. He drew back and saw the raw, staggering adoration he felt reflected in Dom’s face and thought of the rings he’d been looking at a few days ago. Taking Dom’s left hand in his, Sam brought it to his lips to kiss his knuckles.

“I’m yours, Dominik. You know that, right?” he said, grinding into Dom harder, deeper, his voice getting rough and desperate. “All of me, every piece. For as long as you want and past that, even.”

Dom’s mouth opened around a low moan. “I know, fuck, I know. I’ll want you for as long as I can fucking have you.” He pulled their hands to his chest, guided Sam’s face closer with an insistent hand in his thick hair, and looked up at Sam with possessive, defiant love as he said, shaky but unflinching, “You’re mine, and I’m yours, and I’ll die before that ever changes.”

Sam blinked away the sudden wetness in his eyes and caught Dom in a searing kiss. It felt like a vow. He couldn’t describe the feeling overtaking him, other than overwhelming need. Not just for Dom’s body, or the bliss of coming with him, inside him, but for everything he was, all that they were to each other. They were as close as they could possibly be and it’d never be enough.

“Sweetheart,” Sam rasped, almost pleading, but for what he didn’t even know. 

“Samuele,” Dom said his name with a shuddery whimper. “I’m here, I’m yours. Fuck, please.” 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Sam hiked Dom’s hips up one-handed, his right hand still holding tight onto Dom’s left. The new angle had Dom crying out, his back arching, eyes going unfocused as Sam’s cock dragged relentlessly over his g-spot. Dropping his head, Sam rested his sweaty forehead against Dom’s, words finally lost to instinct and the need to breathe each other in as their lips brushed in an open-mouthed kiss.

Dom’s thighs began to tremble again and he babbled Sam’s name in between his whining and swearing. As Sam’s climax drew nearer, his slow, hard thrusts lost their steady pace. He was so close he shook with it, and so in love with the man below him he could burst, a dam about to collapse, ready to be swept away by the impending flood. 

“F-fuck, Sam, my darling, my lo–” Dom gasped and cut himself off with a loud whine.

“Your love?” Sam said breathlessly.

“Yes—god–” Dom’s face twisted with pleasure, looking almost wounded by it, but he held Sam’s gaze as he panted and shuddered and bore down on Sam’s cock and sobbed out, “my love.”

He clutched at Sam as he came with a choked-off cry, like he couldn’t bear to have any space between them, Dom’s free arm wrapped around his shoulders and keeping their bodies as close as possible. His cunt clenched so tight around Sam that he hissed as he fucked him through his orgasm, tumbling right after him, the dam breaking as he spilled deep inside Dom. His hips twitched helpessly at the feeling of Dom's cunt fluttering in the aftershocks, pulling him in as if to keep him there. Not that Sam would pull out until he had to.

“Your love,” Sam whispered reverently, kissing Dom even though they were both gasping for air and trembling. Dom nodded, his expression heartbreakingly tender.

Slowly, Sam manoeuvred them so they laid on their sides, chests still heaving in an unsynced rhythm. Dom closed any distance between them, making sure to keep Sam inside for as long as he could, and snaked his arms around him in a firm hug. It made Sam chuckle weakly. He loved the rare times Dom got clingy after sex instead of needing space. Returning the embrace, Sam held him just as tight, giving him a bit of a squeeze as he nuzzled into Dom’s sweaty hair and kissed the top of his head.

It was so easy to drift off like that. Sam could feel Dom’s heartbeat in his own chest as it slowed, and even Dom’s aimlessly wandering hands eventually stalled as sleep came for him, body going lax in Sam’s arms. The last thing Sam saw before he fell asleep too was Dom’s beautiful face in the moonlight.

As always, Sam woke first.

If given the very rare chance, Dom could sleep in well into the morning. That was something they’d both discovered: how soundly they slept together. Sam was still an early riser, but today he dozed in and out, half-awake as he watched his sweetheart sleep peacefully, safely. Supporting his face with the back of his hand, Sam smiled softly while Dom breathed steadily and drooled a little on the pillowcase. He looked forward to teasing him about it, could perfectly picture the sleepy, bitchy glare he’d get for it.

Scant few people could say they’d ever seen Dom like this. It amazed him, sometimes, that he was one of them.

Sam lightly traced the sharp features of Dom's face with the back of his index finger. So much of him was sharp, pointed; honed to a knife’s edge out of necessity. In contrast, Sam thought of himself as a hardened, blunt force, like a sledgehammer in calculated hands. Fear and pain and need had made them both tough and slow to trust in their own ways.

But somehow, even if it took years, they did trust each other. They'd both rolled over, shown their bellies, and instead of being gutted they felt gentle hands and careful lips on their most vulnerable places. Sam had fallen in love so quickly with the man he’d found beyond sharp teeth and sharper words.

It was almost surprising at first how sweet Dom could be, once he shed his armour. He really was a sweetheart underneath it all. Mostly. Sometimes. Like sour candy. The thought made Sam’s smile widen, got a quiet chuckle out of him, and Dom’s brow twitched.

“Mmm… what’re y’laughing at?” Dom grumbled as he brought his sleep-clumsy hands up to rub at his face.

“You, drooling,” Sam said.

There was the glare. It didn't do much when Dom’s face was still half tucked into the pillow.

“Fuck off.”

As Dom stubbornly wiped at his mouth, Sam coaxed him across the sheets, pulling their naked bodies together. He was so warm as he snuggled into Sam’s arms with a lingering glare for appearance’s sake.

“G’morning, sweetheart,” Sam said, quietly but full of love as he pressed their foreheads together, and Dom’s façade cracked easily, breaking into a wide, groggy, brilliant smile.

“G’morning, my love.”

His voice was a soft rasp of deep adoration. It made Sam feel buoyant, helium-filled. He kissed Dom despite their morning breath; he couldn’t help it, not with the way his heart felt like it needed to crawl into Dom’s open hands. Dom smiled against his lips as he returned the kiss, before tucking his head under Sam’s chin and curling in close with a sigh. Sam pressed a kiss to the back of Dom’s head, nuzzling into his hair again and breathing him in.

They laid there in each other’s arms for countless minutes, sharing soft touches that grew less innocent as the sun rose bright and golden outside. Dom’s sigh when Sam slipped his cock into his cunt sounded like contentment, and they rocked together lazily, indulgently, trading kisses and I love yous until Sam came. Then he crawled down the bed and cleaned up his mess from Dom’s cunt with gentle determination until he came too with a quiet groan. Resting his cheek on Dom’s thigh with what must be the most corny, sentimental expression he’d ever worn, Sam watched his love’s breathing even out as he came down.

“Should I get breakfast started, sweetheart?” he asked, and Dom looked down his torso at him, chin and neck all scrunched up by the angle. Sam’s grin widened at the sight.

“Thought that was breakfast,” Dom said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Snorting, Sam nipped at Dom’s skin to make him squirm. Dom scoffed melodramatically and tried to move away, but Sam trapped him with his arms and kept biting his inner thighs until Dom was wriggling and cackling and shoving him away, swearing and yelling about being betrayed. Sitting up, Sam yanked Dom down the bed and leaned over him to kiss him quick and filthy one more time before he said, “I’ll get it started. Take your time, kitten.”

He left Dom still laughing in their bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants before he went to the bathroom to piss and brush his teeth, then the kitchen to get the coffee going, smiling to himself the whole time.

He was so fucking happy. In his darker moments during the years Dom was gone, heartbroken and aching over the distance between them, he’d desperately wished they could have a life like this. Not that he believed they ever would, most of the time. The idea was enough to keep him going though, to keep him fighting for it by taking down every mark that Vincenzo said would put Dom at risk. That it’d happened, that they were here in their home—only half unpacked but still theirs—felt like the best dream he’d ever had. His only regret was that he couldn’t make this happen sooner. 

A door clicked shut down the hall. Dom was up. Sam seasoned and whisked up some eggs, pouring them into a pan. They’d just started to cook when he heard Dom walk into the kitchen, footsteps quiet from training and habit. Sam jumped when he felt a pinch on his ass as Dom went by, and caught the mischievous smirk on his face when he turned to give him a scolding look.

“Do you want to eat or not?” Sam asked.

Dom grabbed the mug Sam left out for him, pouring himself some coffee and turning to lean against the counter. All he wore was a pair of his own black boxer briefs and one of Sam’s old shirts that hung loosely off his shoulder, the faded grey of it making him look soft in the morning light. Sam’s mouth went dry at the sight. This was clearly a targeted attack, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“Your threats are very empty, my darling,” Dom said flatly, still smirking as he sipped his coffee.

“They are, huh?”

Dom hummed and shrugged, so Sam set down the spatula. Planting his hands on either side of Dom, he leaned into them to loom into Dom’s space, one eyebrow cocked. Dom, of course, looked like the cat that got the cream as he placed his mug out of harm’s way.

“Well, shit. Seems I’ve been proved wrong,” he said with blatantly false surprise. There was a tick at the corner of his lips, a flash of a genuine smile breaking through.

“Seems so,” Sam said.

When he reached up, Sam thought he’d be pulled in for a kiss. Instead, Dom gazed at Sam with a slight tilt to his head while he played with his hair, his long fingers straightening out the strands messed up by sex and sleep. Then he moved down to lightly scratch his nails through Sam’s beard, making him grumble and close his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

“Have I told you I love the beard?” Dom mused.

Sam chuckled lowly and said, “Yeah, every few months.”

“Ah. Good.” Dom’s imperious tone made Sam smile, growing wider when he felt Dom pulling him in for a kiss that tasted like their toothpaste. 

“I’ve got eggs to scramble, Dominik,” Sam said, but he kept kissing Dom anyway, muffling his laughter.

“Then scram.”

Groaning in agony, Sam rolled his eyes and pulled away from Dom as he cackled.

They ate at the kitchen island again, almost mirroring the night before, but instead of sitting across from each other they sat side by side, shoulders brushing as they talked about their plans for the day. Dom had his foot hooked around Sam’s ankle the whole time.

Halfway through breakfast, though, Dom’s phone rang.

Vinny’s name appeared and, frowning, Dom answered with a short, “Vin?” Sam couldn’t hear what Vinny was saying, but he saw the instant change in Dom’s body language. His loose, relaxed contentment fled as he straightened up and his face hardened, turning grim. Family business, then. He asked a few terse, one word questions. One of Vinny’s responses made Dom’s eyes dart to Sam, something close to fear in the tenseness of his face, and Sam felt a chill.

“Pond?” he asked quietly.

Dom nodded, but quickly followed it with, “She’s alive,” and relief and dread both threatened to choke him.

“We’re on our way, Vin. Ten minutes, tops.” Dom ended the call and stood, beckoning Sam to follow him as he explained that Salvatore was holding Pond, Willow, Gareth, and a few others hostage to lure them to the vet clinic. They dressed in a hurry, grabbing their weapons and checking them over. He felt numb, mechanical. Sam kept his mind carefully focused on each task—grabbing his guns and extra ammo, checking the magazines—so that the images of River that haunted his mind wouldn’t overtake him.

“Sam.”

Dom’s hand covered the back of his own as he held his pistol in a painful grip. Meeting his eyes, Sam saw concern shift into raw, stubborn, pissed off determination on Dom’s face as he stood there fully dressed but still wearing Sam’s shirt, and if it were possible Sam loved him even more for it.

“We’ll do what we can,” he said, squeezing Sam’s hand, and Sam nodded. Dom knew there was no point in lying to him about this. There were never any guarantees in this business. But just having him at his side made Sam feel a little less numb, a lot more steadfast.

Pressing a quick kiss to Dom’s lips, Sam said, “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, darling. Let’s go.”

♣♣♣

Sam takes a deep breath, and takes comfort in Dom’s shoulder against his. But there’s something wrong.

This whole thing reeked of bullshit from the start, but now that Salvatore’s worked his way from Vinny all the way to Tig, and not one of the five of them has been shot, Sam knows something, somewhere, has been rigged. There’s no random chance in this, and that bullet may as well have a name carved into the casing. It sure as hell isn’t Salvatore’s, no matter what the slimy fuck promised when he started this “game,” and Sam’s next best guesses send fear clawing up his spine.

He turns his head and finds Dom facing Vinny. They’re sharing a look, and he knows they’ve figured it out, too. Shit. Shit.

Salvatore saunters away from Tig. “Wow, tough luck for me, huh?” he says. Sam can hear the insincere pout in his voice and wishes he could beat his face in. “Guess that's the risk with a game like this.”

Maybe he should be looking at Pond instead, but he can't. He doesn't want his last memory of his daughter to be of her horrified face. So he waits for Dom to look back at him, knowing that he will. 

Dom turns after he has one more look at his brother. His eyes are as calm and blue as the sea after a storm, resigned in a way Sam hates. It looks wrong on the most stubborn man he knows. But the longer Dom looks at him, the softer his face becomes, crows-feet deepening in an expression Sam’s seen thousands of times now.

He knew what it was probably before Dom himself did, or at least before he could really acknowledge it. Love. Just seeing Dom look at him like this always made every set-back and argument and years of separation worth the frustration and heartbreak. It was all worth it, every moment, and Sam so selfishly wishes he could’ve had the rest of time to see it again and again. Pressing further into Dom’s shoulder, he feels him return the gesture.

Salvatore’s footsteps stall behind Sam and Dom, the distinct mechanical clicking of the revolver’s cylinder sliding into place, the final chamber inevitably filled with the only bullet. Sam hears a quiet, surprised chuckle. “Risk and reward,” he draws out the syllables like he's mulling them over, “that's been the game, the gamble, our whole lives. Only this time, I've stacked the deck in my favour. Luck doesn't fucking matter today.”

The words I love you are choking Sam’s throat, desperate to be said just one more fucking time, so he can be sure Dom knows because they’ve only been saying it for too short a time. He should’ve said it the first moment he thought it. He wants to keep saying it forever. He really fucking wants forever.

“Might wanna look away for this one, Sammy,” Salvatore says casually.

A flash of silver creeps into Sam's periphery and his heart plummets, lead-heavy.

And Sam, God help him, he does. He listens. He closes his eyes against the image of the gun being held to the back of Dom's skull.

♠♠♠

Dom’s already ran through every scenario he could think of. None of them get everyone out alive. It’s a fucking bloodbath at best. The civilians make it harder; easy weak points for Salvatore’s soldiers to take out. He can’t see any other way for this to go other than to let Salvatore’s insane power-trip play out. 

And of course it’s fucking Russian Roulette. Such a cliché.

He can’t control the fear when Salvatore aims at Vinny first, the silver pistol buried in his golden hair. Every bit of Dom’s training and resolve go towards keeping himself still, but he instinctually pulls at the ropes binding his wrists anyway. The only thing going through his mind is not him not my brother please God not my brother—so he can’t watch. He can’t. He’ll do something really fucking stupid if he does.

Glancing at Willow instead, Dom sees they’re still miraculously keeping their cool—the only tell is the tension at the corners of their mouth—and wishes they didn’t have to be here for this. They’d been kept as far away from the business as any of them could manage, the one thing in Vinny’s life that wasn’t part of the hardships of the Family; it’s shit luck that this is their grand introduction.

Will makes the tiniest sound and Dom closes his eyes when the gun clicks, empty.

“You live to see another day, cousin!” Salvatore gloats.

Dom wants to gut him, split him open from the balls up, grin as his entrails spill out, hot and stinking, and feed his corpse to the pigs. Even so, he’s breathing steadily, pushing the panic into something useful, something that keeps him ready. But as Salvatore keeps going down the line, aiming that tacky revolver at each person and pulling the trigger with an anticlimactic click, the more he feels like being ready won’t do any good.

When he survives his own turn Dom barely reacts, too concerned that Sam is next. Any movement could ruin this, putting Sam’s life at even greater risk, but it's just as hard to keep himself composed when the trigger is pulled uselessly, unable to hold back the heavy breath of relief at the sound. Dom fucking aches with the need to hold Sam, for reassurance that he’s still there and alive beside him, especially when Sam leans into him.

All he can do is grit his teeth, return the touch, and swallow down the lump in his throat.

Tig is last, before Salvatore himself, because of course he is. Dom doesn’t watch the boy. Keeps his eyes on Pond instead as Salvatore makes some speech. The way Pond’s reacting, though, breathing heavily, panic and rage and realisation plain on faer face, Dom knows something is wrong with how Salvatore’s acting with Tig. And with the rest of the rumours he’s heard about that sick fuck, Dom makes a mental note to tell Vinny to be extra fucking brutal to their cousin when they get out of this.

If they get out of this.

No. When.

The telltale empty click goes off in the clinic and Pond flinches with a wounded sound before going slack with relief. Dom wishes he could’ve trained that reactivity out of her, hopes he’ll still have time to. Mourns, for the thousandth time, that he would even need to. She deserves a safer life than this hell that took her brother from her.

Dom takes a steadying breath and takes stock. If none of them were shot, that leaves Salvatore himself, as he’d promised. But there’s no way he’ll keep his word and blow his own fucking head off, not when he’s got this much of an upper hand. So he has a target. And he rigged the game to put on a show. The three best targets—Vinny, himself, and Sam—are lined up beside each other. Salvatore’s soldiers shoved them to their knees in that order specifically.

So it’s either himself, his brother, or his lover. Dom knows which of the three he’d rather it be, instantly. There’s no way Salvatore would listen if Dom started snarling at the fucker to provoke him to kill him, he’d know it was a last ditch effort to take the attention off Sam and Vinny; even if Dom was the target, Salvatore, the vindictive shitbag that he is, would just shoot one of them instead. That’s not a risk Dom can take. He has to see this through, however the cards fall, and that knowledge sits like a dead weight in his chest.

He leans further into Sam’s strong shoulder as Salvatore’s heels click slowly across the linoleum floor. Quickly, Dom looks at Vinny, who must’ve caught on too and is already watching him and Sam. Fuck, it’s such a relief that Kez and the baby aren’t here. That’s the only good thing, out of all of this: that Salvatore didn’t find out about that precious secret.

Dom shoots Vinny a sad, tired, wry smile, since he can’t tell Vinny he loves him one last time. Vinny’s eyebrows twitch upwards, a flash of despair swiftly hidden before he nods and turns to look at Willow. He knows, and that's enough. 

And then Dom turns to Sam. His darling, his love.

Dom’s surprised to find himself so calm when he looks at Sam, but there’s nothing he can fucking do, no plan, no great escape. The only thing he can do is memorise the handsome face of the man he loves so fiercely, so deeply, that he wanted to spend his whole life with him. Fuck, Dom wanted that so badly. Wants it. He wants to tell Sam about the ring in his desk. He wants to tell Sam how much he loves him, that he’ll always love him, but there’s no fucking way words can even express that properly anyway, not here.

There’s so much sadness in Sam’s eyes, but even more love. It took Dom so long to see it because he’s a goddamn idiot, but it’d been there almost as long as they’d known each other. Love makes Sam’s eyes crinkle a little, the warmth of his gorgeous brown irises that much more intense. If only Dom could get that smile out of him one more time, the one that’s just for him. He wants to hold Sam, desperately, not just push a little harder into his shoulder and hope that he understands.

Salvatore’s droning on and on about luck as the revolver’s final chamber slides into place but Dom couldn’t give a shit. All that asshole wants is attention and Dom won’t tear his away from Sam, not for the world. When he stops behind them with a delighted little chuckle, Dom starts begging a God he doesn't believe in, one more time.

Please not Sam not my darling let him live please–

“Might wanna look away for this one, Sammy.”

Thank you, God.

The relief hits Dom hard when cold metal kisses the back of his head and he sags into it with a sigh.

I love you Sam I love you I love you I’m sor–

♣♣♣

Sam feels Dom's shoulders sag, hears his relieved sigh–

Cut short by a bang.

Dom–

The.

His.

The body.

His sweetheart falls to the floor.

His heart is on the floor.

Sam can barely hear the limp wet thud past the ringing in his ears.

He does hear Vinny’s broken choked-out “No.”

His chest is caving in.

There’s a black hole there now the size of a bullet wound.

He opens his eyes and sees red. 

Everywhere.

Pooling under what’s left of Dom’s beautiful ruined face.

He hates getting blood in his hair. It’s all in his hair.

Oh god. Fuck. Oh god.

Why?

Why?

Dom is dead on the floor in a pool of his own blood with his face blown off and Sam can’t lie there with him.

Dom is wearing his shirt and it’s soaked with blood.

Something’s happening in the room but Sam doesn’t care.

A door shuts and there’s movement around him and he’s shaking he thinks but the blood is spreading.

It’s red everywhere. In his pretty hair. On his shirt. Leaking from the crater of his face and–

“Sam.”

Pond’s hands rest gently on Sam’s shoulders and he flinches.

“Sam, don’t look.”

“I didn’t though.”

He didn’t look so he has to now.

Someone cuts the zip ties around his wrists and he reaches out a trembling hand to touch his shirt on Dom’s limp body.

Sam knows what dead bodies are like but he thought this time Dom might be cold not warm because Sam’s gone cold now.

Sam’s cold but Dom’s still warm and that’s wrong somehow.

“Dad.” Pond’s voice trembles.

I don’t want you to hurt, my darling.

Dom canted his hips in a way that had their dicks rubbing together, but Sam made sure it was no more than a tease that built only gradually. All the while, Sam was devouring Dom’s neck, licking and kissing and sucking hickies into his pale skin. Dom wrapped a leg behind Sam’s thigh, pulling him closer.

Fuck, he needed to be closer.