Archive of Our Own

It had come up rather randomly in conversation once.

Conversation, being while Higgs was nestled down between Sam’s legs, sliding his mouth over the head of his cock.

Pulling off with a distinctly wet sound, Higgs’s fingers come up just under Sam’s balls, dragging knuckles against puckered, sensitive skin. Sam’s hips jerk, a breathy, nervous sound ripped from his chest.

“You ever had anyone’ up here, Sammy?” Higgs asks, his drawl tugging on each enunciation in some attempt at seductiveness. Gently, he massages the rim.

Sam stares down at him, glassy eyed, and shakes his head. Dark flush settles over his cheekbones, a distinct reddened glow that makes him look especially out of it. Higgs loves teasing him to that point; loves making his mind the consistency of jello.

“You ever think about it?” Higgs makes no effort to try and push fingers in, only keeping a steady pressure with his knuckles at the entrance. A threat.

Sam’s head falls back, his expression going tight.

Higgs grins. Laughs.

“Sweetheart, I’m asking you a question.” With his free hand, he gives Sam’s aching length a long, slow stroke. Keeping him at the edge.

Sam’s next exhale is a shudder, forcing himself to look down at Higgs again with an annoyed furrow in his brow. He’s silent for a few long moments, before giving a tiny shrug.

“Guess so,” he mutters.

Higgs grins wider. “Yeah? Well c’mon, then. Share with the class.” Yet another torturously slow drag of his fist has Sam quietly puffing through his nose.

Sam doesn’t answer. So Higgs keeps talking. “Sammy. I’m dyin’ to know. What is it you think about, huh?”

Still, nothing. Higgs can sense the blockage in the other man. He gets this way while overwhelmed, sometimes. Too many sensations. His words often fail him. He just clenches his teeth and screws his eyes shut.

Higgs can be merciful, luckily.

“You think about my fingers in here?” Higgs gives a harder press, forcing an abused sound out of Sam. “Searching for that little spot that’ll make you my bitch?” A grin curls at his expression as Sam’s legs shake, a cocktail of anticipation and indulgence.

Deciding to toy with him further, Higgs pulls his fingers back, and quickly spits on his hand. He returns, kneading a wet finger back against Sam’s hole. Sam flinches back, as if worried that Higgs would try and sink a knuckle in. Higgs doesn’t, just rubbing in languid little circles. Easing the muscle there. He watches as Sam’s chest rises and falls, watches as he writhes under the ministrations.

“You like that, huh?” Sam doesn’t nod, but the unsteady breathing gives him away.

“Or maybe…” Higgs brings the tip of his cock back to his mouth, giving it a slow lick and pulling the skin there back, lathing his tongue over it as it steadily leaks. With the head still balanced on his tongue, he smiles. “Maybe you want my cock here.” With the slightest push, Higgs sinks just the very tip of his middle finger into Sam’s rim, earning him a startlingly loud grunt.

He imagines it. Sam’s face pressed into the bed, shoulders and neck red from the flush consuming his body. Making barely restrained little noises as he’s pulled back onto Higgs, trying to draw away as it becomes too much.

Higgs starts to feel a little lightheaded too.

“Higgs,” Sam pants, throwing an arm over his face in an attempt to hide his furious blush. His hips shy away from the intrusion, and Higgs doesn’t push. He returns to steadily kneading the area, sliding up to cup his balls every few moments.

“That sound good, Sammy? You, on your knees for me, beggin’ for me?” It’s times like this that Higgs feels some level of misery over not having the appropriate parts to make it all true. Bending Sam over, sinking into him – it is tantalizingly out of reach.

Sam’s eyes are screwed shut again, sweat pooling at his collarbone. Higgs leans down, drawing his tongue against his sac, then lower, and lower until –

“Fuck! Higgs!” Sam jerks back properly this time, knee nearly coming into contact with Higgs’s temple at the speed at which his legs close. Higgs draws back, trying to wrestle Sam’s muscled legs back open to little avail.

“C’mon Sammy, don’t clam up on me, now,” he soothes, itching to get back at Sam. A sort of desperation he couldn’t easily hide. “Lemme eat you out like you eat me. Please.” He wants it. God, he wants it.

Sam just shakes his head at that, face redder than Higgs has ever seen it. His legs draw tighter together, bashful. “Uh-uh.”

Higgs pats his thigh. “You’re redder than a tomato, and you’re actin’ like you don’t want that?”

Sam just squints down at him, agitated. 

Shoulders slumping, Higgs buries the urge to roll his eyes.

“Fine, be that way. Open your damn legs so I can suck you off.” He nudges Sam’s knees again, and with a bit of hesitant reluctance, the man sits back a bit further and lets his legs fall back open, hard cock still straining against his gut.

He makes good on his word. Higgs drags his tongue along the underside of Sam’s length and pulls him back into his mouth with a loud moan. He’s done it enough now to know how to handle Sam’s weight on his tongue, and he’s managed to get relatively better at taking him further down his throat without gagging on it. Closing his eyes, he lets himself relax, leaning into the heady arousal it knocks loose.

Sam lets Higgs’s mouth warm him for as long as he can manage, before his hips start to shift impatiently, and the slide of his cock forces itself into Higgs’s throat on a small, partially aborted thrust up.

Higgs lets him go wild, after that.

Before he comes, Higgs pulls off and slides his fist over the head of his cock, eyes watery and face red from holding his breath. Sam lets out a grunt as he spills over Higgs’s hand, across his face, along the ridge of his nose and brow.

Higgs just lets out a faint laugh, mouthing at him again as he shivers through it. “That’s it… there we are,” he purrs, thumbing the head and pulling out a few more droplets. “Good thing I’m takin’ such good care of you, right Sam? Don’t know what you’d do with all this if I weren’t here.” He slides his tongue against the sensitive tip once more. “Must be so heavy.” His hands come to cup his balls again, kneading them gently. Sam’s stomach muscles flex instinctively, twitching with the onset of overstimulation.

Once Sam starts to pull away, Higgs lets his hands fall, taking a moment to wipe at some of the come just under his eye.

“Should be more careful with your aim, cowboy,” Higgs comments, rising up onto his feet to fetch a towel for himself. Sam lies sprawled against the sheets, dick rapidly softening and spent.

Higgs wipes the spend off his face, slightly disheartened that it had gone to waste. Nonetheless, he turns back to Sam, still tacky with saliva and come and begins wiping him down with a casual ease.

After a moment, Sam’s hand finds Higgs’s forearm, loosely curling his fingers around him. Higgs glances down questioningly, brows raising, before Sam is tugging him closer. Higgs puts up little resistance as he’s pressed close, muscled arms looping around his shoulders while Sam affectionately presses his nose into the junction of Higgs’s neck and shoulder.

Still clutching the filthy cloth in one hand, Higgs just blinks, before letting out a tiny exhale, and letting his weight fall further into Sam.

“Fuckin’ cuddly, ain’tcha?” he murmurs, adjusting so that his arm isn’t pressed at an awkward angle under him anymore. Sam just grumbles incoherently, breath fanning against Higgs’s shoulder.

They lie in comfortable silence, and Higgs wonders briefly if Sam had drifted off to sleep before he feels a large inhale under his cheek.

“You’re thinkin’.” It comes out a bit muffled.

“Mmh.” Then, quietly: “Were you serious about that shit?” Higgs pulls back just enough to peer at Sam, bewildered.

“I say a lot of shit durin’ sex, Sam,” he gripes. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Sam looks flustered, and his gaze darts away from Higgs like he can’t quite bring himself to expand upon it any further. He gives a meagre shrug.

Higgs, keen as ever, smiles impishly. He knows, of course, what Sam means just based on reaction alone, but he isn’t going to give it up easily.

“Seriously, Sam. No idea what part you’re gettin’ at.”

Sam just lets out a suffering sigh. “Nevermind,” he grumbles, and Higgs pulls back further to stare directly at Sam.

“Now don’t go pullin’ a fuckin’ nevermind on me. Finish your damn thought, Samuel.”

Sam’s expression twists, some muted mix of irritation and bemused. “Fuck off, man.”

Higgs half laughs, half scoffs. “You’re the one bringin’ it up. Now tell me with your big boy words.”

Sam’s lip tenses, draws up. He meets Higgs’s gaze only for a moment, testing, before dropping it again. The heat seems to return to his face.

“Bout’ you fuckin’ me,” he mumbles under his breath. Higgs almost wants to pretend he hadn’t heard, but the grin that splits his face happens too fast.

“See? Wasn’t so difficult.” Higgs traces a finger along the jut of Sam’s cheekbone, eyes lidded. “What about it?”

Sam tilts his head away from the gesture, embarrassed.

“If you actually wanted to.” 

Higgs can hear the effort it takes for Sam to speak, and if he were feeling a bit more cruel, he’d have brought attention to it. Instead, he traces a finger down Sam’s arm, outlining one of his hand prints.

Higgs lets out a puff of laughter against Sam’s face. “Fuck kinda question is that?” Sam’s eyes flit back up to Higgs, brow twitching. “Sweetheart, I’d fuck you non-stop if you’d let me.” The vulgarity of it makes Sam wince.

Higgs leans back now, leg propped up to expose himself. “Lackin’ the equipment, though. You got an idea in mind, Sam?” Sam gives a meager shrug, eyes distractedly flicking down to Higgs's dick.

“Uh… not really.” He scratches a spot behind his ear. “I dunno.” Higgs grins at that.

“Well, guess the ball is in my court now, ain't it?” Higgs adjusts himself until he’s crawling atop Sam, hips rolling into a teasing grind that Sam grimaces at. He places a steady hand at Higgs’s waist, stilling the motion.

Higgs, cat-like, nuzzles along his jaw. “You best be careful, leavin’ it all up to me.”

Sam grunts. “Nevermind. Forget I said sh–” Higgs brings a silencing finger to his lips before Sam can finish.

“Oh-hoh, no, Sammy. Your bed is made, baby. Lie down with a little grace, now.”

Sam shuts up, but it doesn’t silence his glare, or the deep flush colouring his cheeks. Higgs places a goading kiss at his mouth, before pushing himself off the man.

“I'm orderin’ pizza,” he announces. Sam shoves himself up after Higgs, hair falling around his shoulders in tangles.

“You said we'd cut down on that,” Sam grumbles. “We got perfectly fine food in the fridge.”

Higgs ignores him, shimmying into a pair of pants and fumbling for their terminal.

“That was called me lyin’, Sam.” Really, he should know better. Sam just sighs.

“Get one with cryptobiotes.”

…

Higgs doesn’t bring it up for a while afterwards, and Sam seems more than happy to do the same.

All the while, Higgs silently plots. Knowing Sam, he’s none the wiser. The conversation is probably dust in the wind for him by now, and Higgs decides to use that to his advantage.

He places the order for it while Sam is out on a run, sprawled on the bed with his feet up against the wall. Labels the shipment as something mundane and unassuming. A new pan for the kitchen.

He orders that too, actually. Something Sam had been mentioning, on and off, the rusting scratch marked pans slowly succumbing to their age. Hand-me-downs, or whatever.

At the very least, it would soften the blow for what Higgs is actually ordering.

Chiral printers are a lovely thing, Higgs notes, hand falling against the bedding with his ring terminal still affixed. He’d have to give a smattering of additional likes for whichever sorry porter ends up delivering it.

When Sam comes home, Higgs realizes that the porter is none other than him.

With a hefty thud, Sam places the cargo on the counter, staring at Higgs.

“Gonna explain?” Higgs is already approaching when Sam raises a brow at him. Higgs just scoffs.

“What, I’m not allowed to have hobbies anymore?” He scoops the containers up and spins around, only for Sam to catch him by the elbow.

“Higgs,” he says dryly. Higgs peers over his shoulder, drawing his arms closer to himself protectively.

“Hm? What?”

Sam frowns. “Better not be a nuke.”

“Jesus, Sammy, have a little damn faith.” He tugs his arm free, shooting the other man a playful grin. “I ain’t a one trick pony.”

Sam watches him disappear into the next room with an exasperated stare.

Sam; lovely, lovely Sam, doesn’t push the topic.

The next few days are just as uneventful. Sam works, then comes home and Higgs waits for him to emerge from the shower so that they can read a book together. Sometimes, they watch an old movie, and Higgs complains about whatever inaccuracies he can place.

He hates The Mummy, but they watch it more nights than any other movie.

Higgs orders another pizza, and Sam tries to wrestle the ring terminal off his finger while he does it.

Somehow, still, Higgs writes the whole damn email in the same shlocky, overdramatic prose he loves so much, and Sam’s punishment is refusing to budge from where he forces his full weight on Higgs.

Higgs doesn’t mind as much as he says he does.

Sam’s first hint that something is amiss is when they retire to bed for the third night in a row, and Higgs doesn’t crawl into Sam’s lap to press desperate bites to his neck.

Instead, he settles against Sam’s side and exhales loudly, arm slung over his chest. Higgs drags himself as close as humanly possible, and stays put.

Sam, beyond the confusion, seems only slightly worried.

By the fifth day, he’s definitely worried.

“Everything… good?” he asks at one point, while they clean up after their dinner. Higgs tilts his head to Sam, eyeing him with a questioning, probing stare. It’s awkward, still. They’ve been worse before, though.

The evening had been a quiet one, a little rare for Higgs, but nothing to bat an eye at.

Higgs just looks at him. “As opposed to…”

Sam ruminates. “Bein’… bad. I dunno.” He pauses. “You just haven’t, y’know—” he cuts himself off.

Higgs smiles a little. “Been jumpin’ your bones?” Sam’s cheeks swell with colour.

“Uh-huh.” Sam scrubs a plate clean with a sponge, before letting the tap wash away the suds.

“Why, you gettin’ pent up, Sam?” Sam looks up at Higgs, alarmed, before he realizes Higgs is teasing him.

“Nah, it’s fine, it's just—” He gives a faint shrug. “Not like you. Wasn’t sure if I did something.”

Higgs’s devilish smile softens around the corners. That familiar, instinctual twist in his gut comes back; nerves. He isn’t sure he’ll ever be used to the gentle, easy way that Sam seems to care for him. It sure is a whole lot easier now, though.

He exhales in a laugh, nothing more than a surge of air past his lips. “Damn. Should I feel offended?”

Sam glances over again with a knot formed in his brow.

Setting the last plate away, Higgs sidles up to Sam. He hooks a finger into his belt loop and pulls them flush, leaning over Sam’s shoulder to press a faint kiss to his nape. Sam stills, before carrying on scrubbing the last of their cutlery.

“You ain’t pent up, even a little? After all this time?” he whispers lowly, and he can feel the way the man beneath him tenses.

“Said it was fine,” Sam mumbles back. “If you don’t wanna, we don’t have to.”

Higgs grins against his skin. “Such a gentleman.” He punctuates it with a kiss to his neck. “Should reward you for bein’ so patient.”

Sam’s next exhale comes out a fraction harder. He puts the silverware to the side, twists the faucet off and turns so that he’s pressed chest to chest with Higgs. Instantly, Higgs’s hands fall to his hips, where he grinds forwards against Sam’s pelvis. Sam’s breath catches, and he moves to place a wet hand at Higgs’s wrist, steadying.

“Higgs,” Sam tries again, strangely persistent.

Higgs pauses, glancing back up from where he’s trying to roll his hips.

“Didn’t know you were such a worrywort, Sam.” Which is also a lie. When the answer only makes Sam pull back, Higgs crowds harder against him.

“Hold still, now.” Higgs traps him against the counter. “It’s fine. I’m fine,” he barely stifles the aggravation. “Just wanted to see how long it’d take for you to notice.” Sam meets his eyes with a squint. Disbelieving.

“Uh-huh.”

Higgs leans in until he can bring his lips against Sam’s, slow and purposeful, drawing a tongue against his bottom lip.

Sam tilts his head away, but Higgs follows him with a nip.

“You’re a shitty liar,” Sam grunts. Higgs rocks forwards, grinding against Sam’s gradually hardening bulge.

“Mmh.” Higgs’s hands wander up his torso, settling on a pec. He massages the muscle there through Sam’s shirt, thumb dragging over his nipple. The gasp Sam lets out is captured between his lips. “You’re awfully impressionable.” His other hand dips low, grabbing Sam’s hardening length and giving it a slow, solid squeeze, dragging his hand up the side of it. He kneads it for a few moments as Sam’s breathing grows more unsteady.

Higgs already knows the state he has Sam in, just by the way the man is melting against him. The way his hips twitch forwards with each deliberate movement.

“Poor Sammy,” Higgs says quietly against his mouth, placing a kiss on the corner. “Must feel so damn full.” He slides a hand to cup him lower, earning him another gasp, stifled. “Neglected,” Higgs carries on. The hand at his pec travels down until he can push the hem of Sam’s shirt up and slide it up his torso, pinching at his chest and forcing a ragged sound out of Sam. “Always thinkin’ of me, first.”

Sam’s hands find themselves fisted in Higgs’s shirt, fingers curling into the fabric like it’s a lifeline. It isn’t until Higgs draws back to properly look at Sam does his grip loosen. He’s cherry red already, embarrassed flush at his ears.

Higgs’s arms slide under Sam’s, hands folded at his back as he guides him off from the kitchen counter and towards the bed, still biting and nipping at his mouth; his neck. The backs of Sam’s knees hit the bed with a thump, and Sam falls back against the sheets.

Higgs smiles. He crawls over Sam, predatory. Again, he shoves Sam’s shirt higher up, and dips down to pull a nipple into his mouth.

Sam’s head falls back, fighting back a shudder. Higgs carries on lathing a tongue over the hard bud, teasing the sensitive nerves there. He pulls off with a slick sound, kneading quietly at Sam’s chest. 

“Feels good, huh?” he says. “It’s about to feel a whole lot better, sweetheart.”

And then Higgs clasps a pair of cuffs over Sam’s right wrist, and snaps it closed to the bed. Sam’s eyes grow wide in alarm.

“Fuck— what the fuck, Higgs?” The glassy eyed, fucked-out look still hasn’t completely disappeared from Sam’s face. He tests the cuffs with a clatter. Higgs grins.

“Don’t get all freaked out on me, Sammy, I just need you sittin’ pretty while I freshen up.”

Sam watches him, baffled.

“What?” 

Higgs, admittedly, never freshens up. It’s quick and dirty and often starts on a whim so thin it gives spider silk gossamer a run for its money. He understands the confusion. It’s no less delightful.

Sam looks between the cuff and Higgs, trying to pull himself further up the bed so the angle is a little easier to work with. Higgs shuffles backwards, sliding his hand down Sam’s leg while he does. He gives Sam’s pants a tug, sliding them off his hips in preparation.

“Hold still. Don’t touch yourself while I’m gone.” Higgs winks. “I’ll know.”

Then he exits the room, leaving a bewildered Sam affixed to the bed.

Showtime.

The harness fits snug over his hips as he slips into it, affixing it so that it rests comfortably, framing his pelvis nicely. Nothing overly fancy, or crazy, shockingly. He doesn’t want to scare Sam off, so he keeps it simple. Doesn’t go too big with it.

The small end of the fake cock slips into him with a bit of lube, and rests securely right over his sensitive walls. Shit.

He peers at himself in the mirror for a moment, sliding a palm along the extension with a look of fascination.

Huh. 

It looks pretty fucking good.

Higgs ignores the anticipation building in his gut. He forgoes any other plan, instead deciding to return to Sam quickly and fling himself face first into whatever reaction he might get.

Sam’s head snaps back up the second he’s in the room, eyes on Higgs’s face first, before they abruptly drop to the cock between his legs.

He’s silent for an excruciatingly long pause.

“Still wanna try, Sammy-boy?” Higgs asks with a smirk, though his mind is spinning with nerves.

Sam just looks back up at Higgs, resembling a deer in headlights. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, before he decides to forgo that all together. He nods.

Higgs doesn’t think about the wave of relief, or the sharp pang of arousal in his gut.

Stalking forwards, Higgs sinks back into the bed, drawing Sam’s legs apart as he settles on his knees. Sam draws his calves back, eyes still wide.

“Where th’ fuck did you get that?” he finally manages to ask.

Higgs shimmies Sam out of his boxers conversationally, smiling like the cat that caught the canary.

“You can print anything you want with chiral printers, Sam. It ain’t just guns.”

Lower half bare now, Higgs moves forwards, sliding his hands back up Sam’s torso, letting his fingers glide over the cross on Sam’s gut. Sam’s muscles tense and flex, and his jaw works.

“You seriously been planning this?” Sam’s voice comes out gritty and strained. Higgs just exhales a puff of laughter as he places a few bites at Sam’s collarbone, traveling lower until he’s sucking a hickey into a soft patch of skin.

“Oh yeah.” Higgs looks up at him through his lashes, tongue gliding over Sam’s groin, ghosting over his slightly flagging erection. “You ain’t gettin’ off easy this go ‘round.” He grins.

“Now be a good boy, Sam. C’mon now, spread your legs.” Sam hesitates, before letting his knees fall open wider. Tentative. Higgs lets saliva pool in his mouth, letting it drool onto Sam’s cock. He gives him a few slow tugs, breathing new life into Sam’s sails. Higgs watches with a satisfied hum as Sam’s cockhead pearls pre-come at the slit, excited within mere moments.

“There’s my Sammy,” he purrs. Sam lets his head fall to the side, unable to look.

Then, Higgs is drawing lower, and lower. He grabs the lube from before, and uncorks it with a snap. Sam seems to zone in on the sound, muscles going tight with anticipation.

“Cool it. Nothin’ to be afraid of.” Higgs runs a palm over Sam’s leg again, some attempt at soothing. “I’ll take it easy. Nice and slow.” He pauses. “Unless you want me to—”

“Slow,” Sam says, shaky. Higgs lets out an amused exhale.

“Slow it is.” Higgs squeezes a generous amount of lube onto his fingers, before bringing it to massage gently at Sam’s hole. The man’s hips stutter, inching back. Higgs just grabs his thigh, firm, and keeps up his ministrations.

“Deep breaths, Sammy. You’re doin’ good.” Higgs can practically hear the grinding of his teeth.

After a moment, Higgs sinks the tip of his finger in.

Sam grunts, calves straining. He tightens around the intrusion reflexively.

“Ease up, now. S’ just a finger.”

“Feels weird,” Sam pants, and Higgs can make out the sheen of sweat already forming on his brow.

“Give me a moment here. Thought you wanted to take it slow.” Higgs sinks in to the first knuckle, and Sam’s expression twists into something unpleasant. He can make out the brief moment of panic as it flits over Sam’s face.

“That’s it, that’s right Sammy—” he breathes. “Open up for me.” 

Sam’s throat bobs, and he’s fighting not to clamp his thighs shut.

“Bein’ so good. Just like that.” The next knuckle sinks it. Sam jerks. His erection starts to flag again, so Higgs brings it to his mouth briefly, lapping at the head. Sam tenses on his finger with a quivering moan.

The next finger is a bit easier. Higgs withdraws, adds more lube, and slides both digits in with a slow drag.

“You were made for this, Sammy. Made for takin’ me.” Higgs starts to feel a little delirious with want, placing messy kisses on Sam’s inner thigh, over his weeping cock. “Gonna stretch you out now, get you ready for me.”

Sam is full on sweating now, the hair at his nape tangled and wet, eyes twisted shut as he tries to focus on relaxing himself.

“Good boy,” Higgs murmurs, spreading his fingers and working on stretching Sam. It’s slow going, but Higgs doesn’t mind. The shivering, high pitched sounds streaming from Sam are more than enough to make up for it.

Eventually, Higgs twists his fingers, and searches for the spot he knows will have Sam’s eyes rolling back into his skull.

Sam’s hips abruptly jerk up, and he lets out an uncharacteristic yelp, hand fisting in the pillow behind his head. Bingo.

Higgs lets out a tittering laugh, smug as he drags the tips over his fingers over that spot once more, slow.

Sam whines.

“F—fuck, Higgs. Shit—” he breaks off at another pass over his prostate. “Ngh— oh fuck.” It’s the most Higgs has ever heard him moan, completely unabashedly.

He could get used to this. Higgs grins, all teeth.

“What is it, Sammy?” he teases. Rubs another finger into the gland, making Sam jolt and gasp. “Somethin’ feel good?”

Sam shivers, knees coming to clamp around Higgs. Higgs has to use his other hand to press against his stomach, pinning his hips down from bucking as he fingers him.

Sam’s mouth opens, but the words come out a garbled mess, face red as wine. Higgs rubs harder for a moment, which wrenches a loud sob from Sam’s gut, hips struggling to thrust up into empty air.

Higgs feels lightheaded just watching it.

He lays off, sliding his fingers out and watching as Sam’s body collapses, like he’d been a puppeteer, and Sam his puppet. Sam’s cock twitches and drools copiously, a near constant stream of pre-come smearing into his skin at his belly.

“Doin’ alright, big guy?” Higgs asks after a pause, patting the underside of his leg. Sam blinks a few times, staring down glassily at Higgs.

He can only nod.

Higgs finishes stretching him with three fingers, and a sizable amount of lube, only grazing over his prostate sparingly.

By the time he’s prepped and ready, Sam looks destroyed.

Higgs moves back up the length of the bed, and unclasps the handcuffs from the bar there. He tosses them to the side, uninterested in where they land as he leans over Sam. The show he’d put on almost made Higgs forget about the ache between his legs, but it’s back now with renewed force.

He can feel his heartbeat in his groin, slick pooling where the harness fits snug.

Higgs places biting kisses along Sam’s jaw, sliding his shirt all the way off while murmuring tiny encouragements.

“Did so fuckin’ well. Gonna fuck you until you see stars, Sammy.”

Sam just pants, hands tight around Higgs’s hips as he struggles to return to focus.

Higgs doesn’t give him too long. He nudges Sam with a knee.

“Roll over for me,” he says. Sam, brainless, does exactly what he’s told. Higgs has to clench his teeth hard to stop himself from getting dizzy with the heady feeling of power. His hands run down the length of Sam’s back from his shoulders, mapping the handprints on him as Sam settles onto his knees and elbows.

“Fuck, that’s right. You know exactly how I wanna take you, don’t you Sam?” Higgs leans in, his tongue licking a strip of salty skin up Sam’s spine. He revels in the musk. The taste of it. A moan slips past his lips before he can help it. His hands rub circles into his hips, before they slide around to give his cock a few slow drags. Sam’s head thuds against the bedding with a barely restrained groan.

“So sensitive,” Higgs says.

Sam just shivers again. Higgs feels him drooling between his fingers before he pulls away once more.

Like this, he can see the muscles in Sam’s back flex. The anticipatory rise and fall of his flanks, the tension gathered in the base of his spine.

Apprehension. He’s drowning in it. And Higgs? He can’t help but draw it out, just a bit.

“Look at you—” Higgs’s breath ghosts along Sam’s skin as he leans forward to press a kiss to his shoulder. “Presentin’ yourself like this.” He bites down just enough to force Sam to jolt again, hissing between teeth.

Most other times, Sam would’ve glared at Higgs for it. Now, he lets out a tiny, shivering exhale. His hips give another subtle twitch.

“A goddamn bitch in heat.” Higgs grins as he says it, the bite in his words not unlike the bite in his teeth. He brings a hand down to spread Sam open, dipping a finger in with far less resistance, now. “Right, Sam?”

He’s revelling in this. God, does this feel right.

Sam’s fists curl in the sheets under him, hair falling past his face and obscuring his profile. Higgs doesn’t see him nod, so he asks again.

“Ain’t that right, Sam?”

Sam finally nods. 

Higgs gives his ass a pat.

“That’s right.”

Hand sliding between his own legs, he drags his fingers over his hole and brings it forwards to slick his cock, biting his lip at the sensation as it presses further into him. He does it a few times before he’s satisfied.

Then, he steadies himself. Grabs Sam’s ass and kneads it, spreads him until he can press the very tip of himself against his puckered hole. Sam tenses again, muscles rippling. Higgs can see the sheer power in him, and the fact that he’s controlling all of it nearly makes him double over.

He just rubs himself against the wetness first, watching until Sam eases enough to press the tip in, just enough to make Sam gasp.

Higgs stops. He holds Sam’s hips, digging his thumbs into his glutes, rubbing the ache there.

“Press back, Sam,” Higgs says. “Show me how much you want it.”

Sam freezes, breath stuttering in his lungs. Higgs, typically impatient, just waits. Until Sam’s weight shifts, and he starts to push backwards.

The groan it elicits from the slow drag is worth every moment of preparation. Sam stops part way down, legs shaking. His head is buried between shoulders, muscles flexing and twitching with effort. Each extra little millimetre pushes it a bit deeper into Higgs, forcing a moan out.

“Fuck— that’s it,” he says, voice wrecked. “Keep goin’, Sam.” The encouragement seems to spark something in Sam’s brain, because he’s forcing himself further back, an inch, then another. He stops again, letting out a strangled sound. Higgs watches the way his length disappears into Sam’s tight hole, watches the way he clenches around it.

Higgs has to close his eyes for a moment, face hot.

Then, he’s tugging Sam’s hips further against him. “Bit more, baby,” he says hoarsely. “Nice n’ slow.” Sam needs the extra help, and Higgs is more than willing to give it as he drags Sam back to meet his slow thrust forwards.

Bottomed out, Sam's chest heaves.

Higgs stays like that, folding himself over Sam’s back. After a few moments, he slowly starts to rock his hips.

Sam grunts. “Higgs—” It’s the first thing he’s said during all of it, and it warms Higgs’s chest. Fuck.

“That’s right.”

Higgs pulls out no more than an inch, before pushing back in. Both he and Sam let out a sharp groan.

“Th—that’s right. Fuck. Fuckin’— shit.” Higgs feels his composure slipping. He thrusts again, fighting to keep himself gentle with the pressure. Sam shifts, his face still obscured by hair.

Higgs rolls his hips a few more times, before promptly picking up the pace and pushing into Sam’s heat.

“Shit… you good, Sammy?” Higgs gasps. Sam just rocks with the motion. Higgs promptly decides to grab a fistful of his hair and yank his head back, just to get a look at the man’s face.

Sam’s back arches beautifully as he does, letting out an unfettered moan. He looks fucked out. Red, flush sweeping down all the way to his chest, teary eyed. Higgs lets out a shaky, disbelieving laugh.

“Oh fuck— you love this.” He feels Sam clench, just based on the resistance alone. “Shit— fuck yeah, Sam. Love you like this, you know that? Not a single thought behind those eyes, huh?” Higgs pants as he speaks. “Just takin’ me. So good at takin’ me…”

His hips pick up speed. He pistons into Sam without abandon now, revelling in the tiny whines and grunts that stream from him. Higgs reaches forwards to pump his cock a few times in time with his thrusts, and the sounds he makes.

Higgs is never letting Sam live this down.

“Yeah,” Higgs pants. “Keep singin’ for me.”

He draws nearly all the way out after a few moments, hand still fisted in Sam’s hair, and crushes his face down against the sheets. Sam’s hands scramble at his side, his arms being forced from under him as the angle changes.

Then, Higgs starts again, driving against his prostate with wicked precision.

Sam has to turn his face into the sheets to muffle his sounds, cock weeping onto the bed below him with each hard thrust.

Higgs is intent now, pushing deep, each drag forcing a bolt of arousal to shoot straight through his gut as the base of the cock shoves itself further in.

“Fuck. Fuck, almost—” he exhales. He can feel the pressure of the harness against his dick, rubbing him just right. Beneath him, Sam writhes with every wave of pleasure that rolls through his body.

Then, like a lightning strike, Higgs pushes just right, into his prostate, and Sam explodes untouched.

Higgs watches the tremors race through him, the whining, high pitched moans that are partially smothered. Higgs has half a mind to wrench Sam’s head back up just to hear them, but he’s too focused on chasing his own orgasm as he fucks Sam through his.

Sam doesn’t stop coming for a concerningly long time. He spills against the sheets, hips spasming, and doesn’t stop twitching for nearly a full minute.

Higgs lets out a frantic sound, and clenches hard.

“Fuck— fuck yes! M’ gonna fill you up, Sam, fuck— gonna knock you up…” Wishful thinking, but he’s too caught up in it to care. He comes on the next downwards thrust.

He blearily slips out of Sam, careful as he can manage, and collapses on his side while Sam falls forwards into the sheets with a full-body shudder.

Neither of them speak for a good five minutes.

Finally, Higgs collects his thoughts enough to peer sideways at Sam, who lies face turned away, no doubt disgustingly sticky from the cooling come under his belly.

Higgs gives his shoulder a shake.

“Still with me, Sam? Or’d the Seam get you?” He slurs a little as he speaks, exhausted.

Sam doesn’t turn immediately, but eventually, he manages to shift, and collapse forwards again, this time facing Higgs.

Higgs can’t help but snort.

“Ohh, baby, you’re givin’ me an ego.” He grins. “That good?”

Sam just glares at him, but it’s softened by his weariness. He just lets his eyes fall shut.

“Mfph.” Is all he can manage.

Higgs shifts until he’s curled up on his side, grimacing as the straps of the harness pull uncomfortably. He needs to get the damn thing off.

“Results are in,” Higgs whistles. “Ten outta ten. Full score.”

Slightly unsteady, Higgs pulls himself up, and yanks off the harness. He drops it unceremoniously on the ground, promising himself he’d clean it later.

He then rouses Sam from his near unconsciousness.

“I know you just got fucked within an inch of your life, but you’re gonna be mad as all hell at me if you wake up swimmin’ in your own come,” Higgs says, tugging Sam’s elbow.

Begrudgingly, Sam rises. He stands, and can’t hide the way his legs tremble as he does. Higgs laughs again, louder.

“Shit, Sam. You gonna make it?” he teases. Sam just shoves him, and teeters off to sit in the kitchen chair with a grimace.

Higgs’s prideful glow doesn’t diminish as he collects the defiled sheets and strips down the bedding. A job he usually leaves to Sam, but it feels like an appropriate moment to allow his good porter some respite.

Sam still looks a little out of it as Higgs peers over his shoulder, spaced out. He blinks himself out of his stupor after a few moments, noticing Higgs’s eyes on him.

“You seein’ God over there, Sam?” Sam just wrinkles his nose at him, pushing himself off the chair with a slight tremble still in his step and moves to put on pants.

He pauses, hand hovering over a pair in the dresser. “You uh—” he stops. Starts again. “You came, right?” The meek glance he meets Higgs with makes Higgs burst out laughing.

“Oh, Sammy— shit, yeah I did. Anyone ever tell you you’re a gentleman?”

Sam glares at him, embarrassed. “Uh-huh,” he grumbles.

He helps with fitting the new sheets, and watches Higgs slip into his own boxers, before collapsing back on the fresh bed.

Higgs follows him down, burying his face against the warm musk of Sam’s skin. He inhales indulgently, which he is certain Sam rolls his eyes at.

“We’re doin’ that again,” Higgs mumbles as he adjusts himself so that his cheek presses against Sam’s shoulder, nosing the ruddy marks that scar his skin. Somehow, one of the more permanent marks on his body. Higgs is working on that, though.

Sam tilts his head to look down at him. Then he looks back up at the ceiling, still blushing.

“Alright, act all silent and stoic. It don’t hide the way you screamed when you came.” Higgs stretches out languidly against Sam, smiling at the way Sam’s hand comes up to rub at his face, vexed.

“Jus’ wasn’t expectin’ it,” Sam says, once his hand drops back to slide along Higgs’s flank. He trails fingers over the tattoos there mindlessly.

“Course, ‘course.” Higgs nods. “I made you feel good though, right?” Higgs asks, trying to play it up with a smirk. It’s hard to hide the edge of desperation.

Sam glances down again, before nodding. “Yeah.”

Higgs doubles down. “Made your legs shake like you were a newborn foal. I ain’t ever seen you do that before.”

Sam frowns. “Alright,” he mutters, blushing harder. “Rubbin’ it in, now.”

Higgs shuffles until his chin is perched on his chest. “Rubbin’ something in, for sure. Shit, last time you were makin’ all that noise it was wh—” He’s cut off by Sam shoving his face backwards with a grimace. Higgs squawks in retaliation, before Sam is rising and pushing himself off the bed.

“Alright, alright— alright! I’ll stop teasin’ you! Sammy—” His hand tugs desperately at Sam’s wrist. “Hey! I ain’t all bad, remember those pans you were complainin’ about?” He pulls Sam back. Sam just fixes him with a confused stare, like Higgs had gone and lost his mind.

“Got new ones. See? Thoughtful too. On top of bein’ the guy who made you come like a faucet.”

Sam's face remains stony, before sighing and leaning back down.

“You tryna bribe me?” Sam asks, taking Higgs’s hand in his own and staring at him.

Higgs shifts until he’s lying flat as well.

“Why? Is it workin’?”

Sam’s eye roll is all the response he needs.

Comfortable silence fills the space between them.

“You’re gonna be sore as shit, tomorrow.”

A long, suffering sigh follows. “Uh-huh.”