The second finger came, then the third, all while Nate said things to him that Sam would not have dared to imagine, but he found them very effective. His body arched up as he took in a breath, a tingling lightness rushing through his chest and down to his hips, collecting where he was waiting in anticipation of Nate's cock.
He had not really spent that much time thinking of the Outlander, but in that moment he could've sworn he'd been waiting for years to feel his kiss, his legs shaking as he moaned: "Pleaseeeee -- oh, please. Now."
His wish was granted, Nate pulling his fingers out (leaving an awful, desperate moment where he was empty and he gasped for the absence of what he had already grown so used to) and lining up his cock. As he pushed in, moved up and cupped Sam's face, Sam's hand came up to close around Nate's wrist, a long and needy whine, almost silent, left him. "You..you...you're b-big. Um, very..wow." He said, incoherently, simultaneously glad for the pleasure his patch gave him and wishing he could not feel the discomfort from being stretched out, even more still after the fingers.
Samuel
I tried to dance with the devil on your back
