The Memoirs

Patsy Cline kicked ass. The voice....the Texas twang...the lyrics. Everything. She just rocked, and so was Chloe thinking as she straightened up the living room. Whitney was due in an hour, and she wanted to keep everything picked up...but somehow, her dad was good at making messes. He was up in the shower, and she was positive he was making a mess in there too, but ah well.

 

"Baraaabum...la laaaa...laaa...Crazzzy....Im crazy for feeeeliiinnnn so looneeelllyyy!" She sang, twirled, held up a fake mike and sang her guts out.

 

Lex ground his teeth.  He'd never been so glad to get a man out of his car as he was to dump Jonathan Kent off at his front porch.  Regardless of the blizzard warnings, Lex drove by Nell's Flower Shop, and picked up two dozen yellow roses.  He wrapped the roses in a new silk scarf that he bought from Fordman's, along with a large box of chocolate candies.  Flowers and chocolate and scarves, and the only thing he was missing was a piece of jewelry. 

 

A quick trip back to Fordman's procured him a gold necklace with a teardrop crystal on it, and then tucking everything into the seat, he drove to Chloe's.

 

The sound of... well, howling, met him as he walked up the sidewalk, laden with flowers, candy and presents.  His foot kicked at the door as his hands were full. 

 

"Im crazzy for looovvviinn yoooouuuuu--" A thud at the door… oh, Christ, was Whitney early?! She tucked a few strands of hair back into her ponytail, swallowed, and shifted a little bit. Her jeans were old and too snug, the Mickey mouse t-shirt just as ratty, but she hadn’t--dammit. She opened the door... shivered at the cold weather... and glared as who she saw who it was, and made to slam the door back closed.

 

Lex thrust the flowers into the closing door.  "I come bearing gifts," he yelled through the large bouquet.

 

The flowers stopped the slam. Really. Because they were pretty, and she had a special weakness for pretty flowers. So she took the flowers, and tried to close the door again as she tucked the roses to her chest. "Get out! I don’t want to talk to you, big dork head!"

 

"Please?"  Lex countered with the yellow silk scarf that just matched her hair.  And, not coincidentally, the roses too.

 

Dammit. She had an even bigger weakness for pretty begging boys, and she snarled before letting the door open and flouncing back into the kitchen. Damn him. Damn him and his skills. He was even ruining Patsy Cline!

 

Lex closed the door behind himself as he followed her in.  "Chloe..."  He still had the chocolate and the necklace, and he'd save the jewelry for last ditch.  "I'm here to apologize."

 

"Do you even know what you're apologizing for, dick head?" She glared over her shoulder, and cut the steps of the roses, sitting them in a vase she particularly liked.

 

"Gathering from our phone conversation earlier, I'm assuming you're upset over the way I asked for privacy last night?"  He shrunk back inside his jacket, not at all thrilled that she was so pissed off that she didn't notice the hair, and he brandished the box of chocolates.

 

Oh, she did. She noticed, but this town was so fucking weird, and she was going to leave that on the back burner for now. "Asked for privacy? What a nice way of making "get the fuck out of my goddamned house" sound so eloquent." Another harsh glare.

 

"I'm sorry?  Chloe, I was in pain, upset, and worried about Clark.  I'm sorry if I was a little... short."  He kept holding the box of chocolates out.

 

"Short?!" She took the box and set them on the table, before leaning over and snarling, "You were between my legs six hours before. What happened? Only want me for the sex, Lex? Lalala, lets fuck Chloe, but, oh," She tapped her chin sarcastically, "Its okay to leave her out of everything, and to shove her out of my house instead of asking for help, because I have my head so far up my ass my voice comes out muffled." Snarl, and she jabbed him in the chest. "You hurt my feelings, and that is not cool, and WE are not cool."

 

"Chloe... it's not just that.  There's just... there's a lot of things going on that I can't explain.  Mainly because I just don't know."  He sat down across from her, and clasped his hands between his knees.  "You know... at least I'd hoped you knew, that you knew that I do like you, and do respect you."  He stopped himself from running his fingers through his hair.  "There's just some things that I need to keep private in my life, and I'm not used to having people of importance that I have to accommodate."

 

“So its okay to use me to get off, but not to be friends with me?" Oh. Chin. Tremble. The tears flooded her eyes and she looked away, clearing her throat a little bit and swallowing. "You don’t have to accommodate anything for me. You're so mean." But she cleared her throat again, and stared at her hands. "Are you and Clark okay?"

 

Lex reached over and took Chloe's hands in his.  "Clark and I are all right.  But you have to understand something, Chloe.  I'm not the kind of person that you're used to.  Clark has been the first real friend that I have had, and the friendship that I've had with him has been like no other relationship I've ever had.  The only other person I was even close to friends with was a man named Bruce Wayne, and that wasn't exactly what you would call a conventional relationship."  He squeezed her hands.  "I'm trying, Chloe.  I'm trying to be the kind of friend you expect, but you have to understand that it's something I've never done before."  He paused to look at her, and then pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket and reached over to dry the tears.  "Please don't."

 

She tugged away, and sniffed...but she understood, even as she sat here and blubbered like an idiot. Geez. She wiped at her face, nodded, and heaved a heavy sigh as she sniffled. "I know. You just hurt my feelings." But she swallowed, shifted. "And I can't tell where your eyes are. What the hell happened?"

 

"I'm very sorry I hurt your feelings."  He left his hands clasping hers gently.  "The short version is, I grew a lot of hair and I don't know why."  He raised one hand just long enough to take his sunglasses off.  "The long story is one you wouldn't even believe." 

 

"Lex.." And she huffed. "I’m not stupid. I know something’s going on that I don’t know about. I’ve tried to stay out of it, but I’m sick of everyone treating me like I’m dumb. Please, just tell me."

 

"I can't, Chloe.  It's not... it's not my place to tell.  I know you understand that."

 

"But there is something. God, I knew it. Are you and Clark like, CIA operatives or something? I know Clark doesn’t look 16...is he really a twenty five year old ex model turned freedom fighter or something?? Come on Lex, give me something."

 

Lex sighed.  "I can't.  I would if I could, but I can't."  He rubbed her hands between his.

 

"Fine. Whatever." And she sniffed again, pulling back one palm to rub at her cheeks. "So… you have hair. Is it going to go away?"

 

Lex moved over to sit beside her.  "I don't know.  I haven't had a chance today to study it yet; I've barely had a chance to talk to my father."

 

And now, she finally took a good look at him. Holy, mother of God. "Lex...what do you have going on here?" She winced, lifted a greasy lock...then another, that was tangled into a knot. "Uh… Well... sweetie. Um."

 

"Hair care is not exactly my forte."

 

"I can tell." She shook her head, propped her chin up with her palm, and shook it again. "Whitney, me, and my dad are gonna have a dinner tonight...my dad wants to get Whitney, blah blah cakes. I'll come over to the mansion afterwards, okay?"

 

"For?" he asked, very suspicious that he wouldn't like the answer.

 

"Take care of… this. Sweetie, you have knots... and you didn’t rinse it right, there’s still soap in there. Didn’t you ever watch your mom wash her hair?" She winced. "And... and yeah, a trim. We...the beard look is nice, but....scruffy."

 

"I was shooed out of the room when my mother's hairdresser came to the house," Lex answered softly.  "I know the general idea, but apparently my skills are... less than impressive."  He sighed.  "I'll leave word with Enrique that you're to be shown up immediately when you arrive."

 

She lowered her head a little to catch his eyes, and let her feet swing off the stool. "Thank you for the flowers. And the chocolate...and the scarf." She grinned at him a little. "Know me better then you think."

 

"There's one more thing," Lex confessed.  "I wasn't sure what all it would take to get you to listen to me.  I brought flowers... chocolate... presents... and jewelry."  He pulled the box with the necklace out of his pocket.  "I picked it out for you, because I've seen you wear similar necklaces before, and... I thought that you might like it."

 

She smacked him in the arm. Hard. Peered in it... couldn’t help the hitch of her soft, gooey female heart, but glared again. "So you were gonna win me over with sparklies, huh?" She snarled it, but she accepted it anyway, and barely controlled the coo of glee as she pulled it out. "Lex, you're shameless."

 

"It was a last resort," Lex defended himself.  "I figured if nothing else would get you to listen to me, maybe the sparkly would."

 

"It wouldn’t have. Can I have it anyway?" She held it up...gasped softly at the shine, and yeah, that sigh was pure feminine glee. "Oh."

 

"Of course you can.  It's yours."  Lex took the gold chain from her hands.  "Turn around, let me put it on for you."

 

He did, pulling her really bad pony tail down and lifting her hair so he could fasten it… and yeah, she couldn’t help running her fingers over it. "Ass. Now get out of here, will you?" She turned back around, and gave his nose a peck. "Whit's gonna be here any minute."

 

Lex dropped a kiss on the back of her neck before she turned around and then accepted the peck on his nose.  "Are we okay, Chloe?"

 

"I guess." But she was smiling, and she nodded as he turned back around. "We're okay. I’m sorry I over reacted earlier."

 

"You had a right to; I was rude."  He returned the smile, and then slid his sunglasses back on.  "Tell your boyfriend not to be jealous," he said, nodding to the necklace.  "You--you're definitely a one of a kind lady, Chloe.  I hope he appreciates you." 

 

"He does." And her heart was squealing, because...yeah, well. Whitney, and all. And even his name brought a grin to her lips. "I'll drag him with me tonight, if he's willing, kay? See you around...eight thirty or so." She nodded, grinned, waved him out. "Go home already. I'll see you tonight."

 

"I'll be... waiting with bated breath," he said, settling on mild sarcasm.  "I'll have the beard taken care of by the time you get there."  He nodded to her again, and disappeared out the front door.

 

"Thank God." She muttered, and fingering her new necklace, shut the door.

 

~ * ~ * ~

 

Sam loved the corner table at the Talon.  It was just in the right position for him to kick back, chair leaning against the wall, hands laced behind his head as he watched the citizenry flock in and out for their daily dose of crappy cappuccino.  "Petey boy... why the fuck we here again?"

 

“It’s the hot spot. Didn’t you say you wanted ta see the hotspot?" A single cocoa colored hand waved out to the citizenry drinking their lattes. "This is it, bud."

 

"No, dawg.  This isn't a hot spot.  This... this is barely a lukewarm spot."

 

"Well, man, ya wanted ta see Smallville." He motioned a hand, and winked at his friend. "Here we are. This's about as hot as we get."

 

“Man oh man.  Remind me to take you to Metropolis one day.  And then to Gotham.  I'll show you hot."  He slid his hand along Pete's leg under the table.  "Now this is what I call hot."

 

His lashes fluttered for a minute, and he tried to squirm away. "Man, not here. This is like the holy fuckin' grail of Smallville. Don’t be screwing that up." Even as his cock rose sleepily, and he lowered his voice just a little. "This mornin'...nice waking up to you."

 

Sam gave the taut thigh under tight denim a quick squeeze.  "Yeah, it was... somethin' I could get used to."  He let go, and then leaned back, black leather jacket falling open to show a tight burgundy shirt.  "Real easy."

 

Pete smirked easily and sipped his latte. "Damn fuckin' right you could. Hey, by the way, we still on to go see the Monster Trucks on Saturday? Dude, gimme a yes. Andy wants me to take 'im to go see Rugrats In India. And as great as that sounds, I'd rather hang out wit you, know what I’m sayin'?"

 

"Course we are.  Seats down as close as I could get 'em, plus I pulled a few strings and got us pit passes."

 

"Oh, n' my ma wants you over for Sunday dinner. Said you don’t eat right, n' some shit. She's makin' lasagna, my man. Don’t miss her lasagna.  Dogwood and Berluce went back to school, to, yo. The house is big brother free. Sure, won't get nudies till next summer, but damn, there’s peace. Plus, hey, we can beat up my little brothers without anyone knowin'."

 

"As much as I would love to see the Ross family dynamic in action... I think I'm gonna have to skip Sunday Night with the Parents."  He slid his hand back onto Pete's leg, squeezing gently.  "It ain't you, baby.  Believe me."

 

His heart hurt, but if anything, Pete was good at masking his emotions. "Naw, man, I gotcha, its cool. I c'n skip out too… we can do somethin', ya know?"

 

Not good enough, when he was around Sam, and Sam slid his fingers across Pete's.  "Mean that much to ya?"

 

"Kinda." And the lies just didn’t have the heart to come out when he was around Sam, too. "I wantya to meet 'um. My families all I’ve got… well, and you, ya know."

 

Sam looked into deep chocolate eyes.  "What time you want me there?"  His hand quickly brushed against his lover's cheek.  "I'll be there.  I'll even bring wine."

 

"Man, my ma'll have a fit if ya walk in with wine." But his lips spread with sweet pleasure, and his eyes danced. "Seven's cool. Ya sure, though? I mean, I don’t wanna push you into somethin' you don’t wanna do."

 

"So it'll be sparkling cider instead, and I'll make a good impression on the 'rents."  He brought his chair forward to sit flat on all four legs for a minute.  "You couldn't, baby.  You couldn't make me do anything I didn't wanna do.  Thing is though... I'd do anythin' you asked me to."  He quickly rocked his chair back against the wall.

 

"Thanks, Sam." And he grinned again, eyes dancing, and could he be blamed for the fingers that skipped over to a warm knee and squeezed? Nah. "It means a lot."

 

"Anythin' to make you happy, dawg."  And even though the words were casually said, the meaning wasn't, and he lifted his knee to rub it against Pete's warm palm.

 

"--er crazy, if you think it would ever happen, Whitney Fordman." Short, sweet, blond and gorgeous, and Chloe still had a bad ass attitude that followed her everywhere. She crossed her slim arms across a pert chest, glaring at him as she sashayed into the coffee shop in her dark blue suede skirt and bright red top. Didn’t match for beans, but because it was her, it did. "No way. I mean, how could you ever even think that? Spiderman and Batman? Puh-lease. Bats would kick his ass all over the sidewalk every day of the year!"

 

He glanced up at the voices and brought his hand back into his lap...demeanor changing a little as he straightened his back and waved a hand. "Hey, Chloe."

 

"You ever seen a bat get caught in a spider web?" is all Whitney said, nudging her elbow as Pete called out to her.

 

"Great... we got the bimbo and his girlfriend," Sam muttered softly.  "Just when the action was gettin' good."  Then, as they got closer, and Sam heard the topic of discussion, he promptly spewed out the sip of latte he'd just taken.

 

"Man, dude!" Pete thunked a palm on his back, eyes wide. "Yo, man, way to introduce the lady; spray coffee al'over her, man."

 

She didn’t even mind, just continuing her tirade with a nod and worried grin to Sam. "Pete, tell me this." Chloe set her palms on the table, leaned over, and peered at Pete with the 'you better agree to everything I say or you DIE' Reporter!Glare. "Spiderman and Batman. Locked in battle. One loses, one wins. Tell me Batman wins. No way can Spidey and his wimpy ass web sling kick the Dark Knight’s ass."

 

Sam was too busy choking on his latte to answer, but his eyes were watering and his fist was pounding on the table.  "Batman," he finally croaked.  "Hometown boy kicks ass better'n anybody."

 

"No way, man, but hey, everybody's entitled to their fucked-up opinion," Whitney said serenely.

 

"I gotta tell ya...goin with my main man Whit, here. Spiderman could whoop some serious ass. I mean, who knows if Bats is good or evil, ya know? He seems kinda shady to me." Pete nodded, still thunking Sam on the back as he answered.

 

"Sam, you are saved. Pete, don’t walk in a dark alley by yourself." Chloe hurumphed and plopped into the seat in front of them, pouting. "I always win."

 

Sam was still clearing his lungs out, and turned a dark glare on Pete.  "Sure, he's fucked up in the head, but that doesn't mean he's evil.  Batman does a lot of good for Gotham, and a lot of places could do with the kind of hero he is."

 

"Always knew you had taste, my man."  Whitney leaned over and high-fived Pete.  "Don't worry.  The Webslinger will save both our asses if we ever get in a sling."

 

"Dude, he's more then fucked up. Ya hear what he did last week with the Joker? Dude, I know the guy’s insane, but you don’t do that typa shit to bad guys...even when they’re bad n' all." He made sure his lover could breathe, and shot him a private, soft smile before back to Whitney, high fiving him and grinning. "Thank you. Even though that whole "Webslinger, if we get into a sling" thing was kinda gay." He smirked. "Want some coffee, ya'll?"

 

"Vanilla latte with mocha sprinkles." And she rose, dropping her suede purse on the table top. "I'll get it. Want anything, baby?" To her boyfriend.

 

Sam glowered at his lover.  "Do you know what the Joker did to Batman?  Killed his parents, right in front of him when he was kid.  Think that gives the Bat a right to go a little postal on his ass."  He got up.  "I'll help you carry, Chloe... I need a refill."

 

"Just plain black coffee, thanks."  He got up to help, but when Sam moved in his way, he sat back down again, and looked at Pete.  "What's his boggle?"

 

"Sam... yo." His eyes widened, and he watched his lover stand and walk off with Chloe...swallowing a little and glancing at Whitney. "Man, no clue. Shit."

 

"Thanks, Sam." She winced a little at him… touched his arm. "If it helps, Pete's clueless. Don’t listen to him, mmkay? We both know Batman can whoop more ass then any of them."

 

"He just doesn't like being wrong, that's all," Whitney said confidently.  "He'll get over it."  He grinned.  "You guys been hanging out a lot together lately; figured you'd know him inside out by now."

 

Sam shrugged.  "Shouldn't take it personally... not like I know the guy or anything, but... you don't fuck with my hometown hero."

 

He would have choked, had he been eating something. As it was, the EMT's were in there, pounding his heart back into circulation, and he just stared at Whitney with something akin to morbid fascination and humor. "Ah....well, you could say that."

 

"Totally get that. That’s why I hate girls who rag on Clark. Hello. Clarks probably saved half this towns net worth of pasty assed flouncy girls, and they just," She made a talking motion with her thumb and fingers. "Yap yap yap."  She raised her voice an octave, pretended to fluff her hair and put her nose in the air. "Like, I mean, could he be any more built? Where does a guy get off on getting so built? Ugh. Sooooo gross."

 

"You okay, man?"  Whitney leaned across the table in concern.  "Didn't mean to choke you up."

 

"You're talkin' 'bout Man Mountain, who can't play b-ball to save his life, right?  Jesus.  Shove that boy in spandex and black rubber, and the bitches--pardon the expression--would be all over his ass."

 

"Naw, dude." He just shook his head, still staring at Whitney. "Just wonderin' how a nice guy like you can let such things come from his mouth." But he grinned, anyway, and waited for the guys to come back so he could apologize to Sam.

 

"Heh. I’m going to start calling him Man Mountain. But yeah, him. He's a stud muffin, and all anyone does is complain about him. At least, the girls in the locker room do. Pisses me off. Rumors and stuff about him and Lex. It sucks."

 

Whitney blinked cluelessly.  "What'd I say this time?"

 

Sam blinked.  "Lex?  As in, Moneybags Luthor?"  Not good, and in the worst fuckin' way.  Just what he didn't need.

 

"Nothin‘, my man." He slapped him on the arm and grinned crookedly. "How're you and the C'lo doin‘?"

 

"Well, duh. Lex Luthor, lives in that big mansion on the hill, drives the Jags and Lamborghini around town?"

 

"We're doing pretty good; damn good, if you wanna know the truth.  She's a real lady, you know?  Likes to hide it, but... she's my lady."

 

"So let me get this straight... Clark and Moneybags are hooked up together?"  Score two for millionaire playboys and their underage sidekicks.  Great.  Now I'm gonna have to start ditching Clark... last thing I need is for Lex to squeal!

 

"Man, I know that’s right. Nice to hear you're treatin’ her right. She tells me things time to time...makes me feel all good to hear ya'll hooked up, man."

 

"Yeah. Sam? You’re freaking me out. You’ve lived here for 6 months and you didn’t know Lex was our resident playboy billionaire?" And little did she know that she'd mimicked his thoughts, smiling as she got her latte from the lady and waited for Sam to get his. "Clark and Lex have been going out since... since Septemberish."

 

"Wouldn't treat her any other way, man."  Whitney smiled at Chloe, watching her smile at the counter lady and then at Sam.  "You know, we gotta get you and Sam hooked up.  You guys can hang out with me and Chloe and Clark and Lex.  Like... quadruple dating or something."

 

"Yeah, well, I make it a habit to stay away from anyone with more money than God, you know?"  He sidestepped the question as he refilled his coffee.  "Damn good for Clark, though, just... tell him to be careful.  Big guys like that have a way of crushin' you when you least expect."  He smiled as he pushed the lid back on his coffee cup.  "Need help carryin' those?"

 

This time he did choke. Right on his coffee, spraying it every where, and he thunked his fist against his chest, gasping for breath.

 

"Oh, God." She watched Pete choke, and winced. "Come on, before Whitney sticks his foot further in his mouth." But she grinned sheepishly and offered the coffee to him. "Thanks, hun. And you know, the funny thing...Lex and Clark... they’re better for each other then you'd think. It’s not Clark who needs warning...I think it'd be Lex. Clarks got him so pussy whooped, and its just adorable beyond the telling of it."

 

Sam nodded absently, as the coughing got his attention, and he balanced Whitney's coffee in one hand as he carried his own latte in the other, and plunked them both back down on the table.  "You okay, man?"  Sam thunked his fist on Pete's back, rubbing it over his shoulders.  "Breathe, Petey."  He glared at Whitney.  "What'd you do to him?"

 

Whitney held his hands up in surrender.  "But I didn't do anything!"

 

He didn’t say a word, shaking his head as his own eyes watered, and he gasped. "Sorry. Yes." Another round of coughing, and he cleared his throat. "I’m cool, man. Cool." Even as his cheeks burned. Thank God you couldn’t tell.

 

"We know, sweety." Chloe smiled at her boyfriend and offered him his cup… then leaned over and gently kissed his cheek. "Wonder Woman would kick Bats and Spidey’s asses both."

 

Sam left his arm draped around the back of Pete's chair, pretending to use it for leverage as his fingers stayed, stroking unnoticeably.

 

Whitney blushed, and then nodded.  "And Catwoman rules them all."

 

Sam barely contained the whoop of laughter.

 

Chloe laughed too, clapping her hands before throwing them around him, eyes dancing as she laughed. "Something about the leather and the whip, right?"

 

He grinned, too, broadly, and Pete watched the two of them hug. Man. High school sweethearts. Cause marriage and babies and mortgages were in these two's future. And speaking of future, he glanced sideways at his best friend, and swallowed. "Hey, Sam, man. Sorry about talkin' about Batman that way b'fore. Didn’t mean to get yer panties in a bunch."

 

Whitney's blush deepened to a bright, fire-engine red.  "Chloe!!  You promised!" he all but wailed.

 

Sam shook his head.  "Don't even worry about it, baby," Sam said softly, fingertips sliding up to the back of Pete's neck.  "I totally over reacted... who cares about superheroes anyway?"

 

She squealed with giggles, giving each of his cheeks a loud kiss...and leaving a lipstick mark on each. "God, I love you, you big dork."

 

"Yeah?" He swallowed a little, and smiled softly. "Its cool. I mean, I shouldn’t talk about other peoples heroes that way. That sucks donkey balls. Sorry, and all."

 

And Chloe's big, bright smile...suddenly went a little sour. Alright... a lot sour. She peered over Whitney’s shoulder, glaring, and said darkly, "Whitney, lets go."

 

"Told you, baby... you don't gotta apologize."  A brush of his fingertips over Pete's thigh, and his chair rocked down as he waved with the other hand.  "SHAY!" he bellowed.

 

"Chloe?  What?"  Then he turned around, and he frowned.  "Yeah, I think so."

 

Shayla bopped her way into the Talon, humming along to the music streaming into her ears.  "I wanna live, like animals, careless and free, I want to live, I want to run through the jungle the wind in my hair and the--SAM!!"  Shayla squealed the name as she waved back and wove through the tables... stopping short as she saw the blond bimbo twins.  "Ew."

 

She climbed to her feet, her eyes darkening in her face as she pulled her purse strap back onto his shoulder. "Shayla."

 

"Uuuuht oh. Tensions mount...blond and pink head stare one another down. Who will win? Who will die? Find out on...Celebrity Death Match!" He made cheering crowd noises, cupping his hands around his mouth and cheering.

 

"Chloe.  Were you just leaving?  Don't let me stand in your way."

 

Sam snickered.  "You guys know each other?  I got the impression that Shay's like me, new in town.  But then again, she's a fast worker."  He elbowed Pete.  "You remember Shayla, right?  Gropey chick, pink hair?"

 

"Chloe... c'mon.  Let's just go."  Whitney put his hand on his girlfriend's shoulder.  "Not worth a public display."

 

Blood. Veins. Boiling. "Actually, Shayla, we were leaving because honestly, the sight of your pink duds all the way through our coffee is nauseating."

 

"I...em..." He waved at Shayla, though he didn’t really know her by name and just by...well, hair, and winced. "Yeah, gropey." Jealous STAB. "Sup?"

 

"Oh, really?  Gee, here I thought that was your perfume making the coffee curdle." She plopped down in Whitney's seat, and sidled up to Sam.  "Hey... why don't you introduce me to your friend, big boy?"

 

"Pete Ross, Shayla Senatori.  Shayla, Pete."  He smirked.  "You already seem to know Chloe and Whitney."

 

"Oh, see. Well. That’s it." She put her purse down very sweetly… then leaned over and grabbed a handful of hair. Sure, the girl had a foot on her, but what Chloe lacked in height, she sure as hell made up for in strength. "LOOK, you little pink disgusting bitch of a female. I do NOT know what problem it is that you have with me, but its just going to take ONE MORE for me to punch you straight in your faux contact, purple ain’t no fucking color eye. Got me?!"

 

"Sam, we could hide under the table." A whisper to his friend.

 

"That ain't all we could do under the table," Sam winked back.

 

Shayla screamed as she jumped to her feet.  "Look, bitch!  You're the one tryin' to say that Clark hurt AJ on purpose and tryin' to blame him for everything!"  She stomped on Chloe's foot with her hiking-boot clad foot.  "My problem with you is that you were tryin' to put shit over on Clark that didn't belong on him!"

 

She bitch slapped Shayla right across the face, then stomped back, grabbed her hair and yanked while, of course, the other patrons were trying to leave, or see better, one or the other. "I never said that, you stupid ho! Clark was sick, he's better now, we had to find him before he got sick again!"

 

He listened to the girls screaming, yelling, slapping, pulling hair, and his eyes widened before he glanced at his lover. "You know, sex could be funner then this."

 

"You so did!  You all but told the cops that CK shoved AJ into the bathroom wall and that's why his head got cracked open!"  She reached up with her nails and started clawing for Chloe's face.  "You're the one that sent the cops after Clark in the first fucking place, bitch!"

 

"Hell yeah it could be."  Sam slid down to his knees and angled himself under the table.  "Let me know if I miss anything good."

 

Whitney was trying to separate the two girls.  "C'mon, that's enough!" he bellowed, for the moment showing his backbone and his lung capacity.

 

She suddenly jumped, but not without slapping Shayla again, good and hard. "Bitch! Two dime tramp!" She tried to reach over her boyfriends arm, and would have chewed through it if she thought it would do any good. "Because that’s what he DID! But he was sick, you moron!"

 

And as Sam lowered himself, Pete found the opportunity to give his crotch a good, hard grope before letting go and watching him slither. "Kay." Sweetly.

 

Shayla charged right back, and slammed into the resistance of Whitney's quarterbacking skills.  "Fucking whore!  Clark would never hurt AJ, I don't care how sick he was!  You just gotta look and see that!  AJ's the most important thing in the world to Clark you twit!"

 

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, BOTH OF YOU!" Whitney bellowed, glaring at his girlfriend first, and then the pink-haired little twit. 

 

In retaliation, Sam didn't unzip Pete first, instead mouthing the line of his cock through the denim and nipping the head sharply.  "Bitch," he murmured lovingly.

 

"Stupid ass cunt! What is your damn damage?! Do you think I want anything to happen to them, huh?! They’re two of my best FRIENDS idiot!"

 

"Gyuhmph." Came the choked mutter, and Pete swallowed very tenderly, muttering something about teasing and stuff as he glanced around to make sure no one was looking.

 

Sam didn't care; he gripped Pete's zipper in his teeth and pulled it down slowly, breathing hot, moist air inside the tight confines of his lover's underwear.

 

"Chloe!" he thundered.  "That's ENOUGH!"  He pointed.  "Don't you think we've made enough of a public spectacle of ourselves for one day?"

 

"Fuck you, they're my friends too!  AJ's the only one in the whole famdamily that's even REMOTELY nice to me, outsidda Jonathan, and he's old!  And married!  So blow me, baby!"

 

He bolted back in the chair... but thankfully the only people who saw that were Sam and God. He bit back the moan... catching his lower lip in his teeth as he watched his friends, and gripped his chair... hard.

 

"GRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAHHHH!" She screamed, trying to reach over her boyfriend to get another yank of that hair. "You’re so stupid, you stupid little BITCH! People would be nice to you if you weren’t such a cock sucking WHORE!"

 

"Funny that particular action should be brought up." Breathed very, very softly.

 

Sam laughed throatily.  "Yeah, very."  His tongue lapped at the dampening cotton of Pete's underwear, tracing the head with his tongue before sliding his hand up to ease his lover out.

 

"You don't even know what the hell you're talking about!" Shayla screeched, reaching for Chloe again.  "People like me just fine, unless they're assholes!"

 

Oh, Jesus, sweet Christ. His legs laced around Sam’s chest… dragging him a little closer as he tried to listen a little at the girls...like they were hard to hear. Except...well, when his head was full of rushing blood, they kinda were. "S.. .Sam…"

 

"AND YOU!" Screeched herself, as Chloe thunked her boyfriend on the arm. "Thanks SO much for coming to my defense!" She grabbed her satchel, snarled at Shayla, and stomped out.

 

Whitney turned and snagged his girlfriend.  "Look, Chloe... I tried to defend you.  I tried to get you to shut up and stop fighting long enough to realize you're going to be the gossip of the whole town for the next three weeks."  He hauled her back into the coffee shop, away from the gawkers outside.

 

Shayla plunked back down in the chair.  "He knows a bitch when he sees one, that's why!"

 

Still with a grip on his girlfriend's wrist, he turned and glared at Shayla.  "Don't you talk about her like that.  Take it back, or I'm gonna break my rule about never hittin' a girl."

 

"Mmmm..."  Sam rumbled his reply in his throat, just as he slid Pete's cock down into it.  He sucked at the length, throat massaging the head as he vibrated again.  "Mmmm?"

 

She wrenched free from her boyfriend, glaring at him and snarling, "Touch me like that again and you die."

 

Yes, well. Alright, then. He set both palms on the table...breathing very softly through his nose, evenly, even as his ass muscles clenched as hard as they could, and his breath speeded up. Oh... holy... fucking… SHIT. "N... nothing."

 

Chloe jabbed a finger into Whitney’s chest. "I DO not CARE if I’m the talk of the town; as long as I ripped one of Pinky’s three hairs out, it was goddamn worth it."

 

Sam deep throated Pete quietly, sucking him down and sliding his hand up to gently fondle his balls as he hummed softly again, vibrating the shaft against the roof of his mouth.

 

Whitney dropped his eyes for a minute, backbone gone as Chloe jerked away.  "I care, dammit!  I don't want people talkin' shit about you."

 

"Aww, isn't that sweet.  The big idiot's trying to make nice-nice with his girlie."

 

He snagged the top of Sam’s head out of instinct, coughing to hide the hard moan as he pulled Sam’s mouth onto him. And it was so LEWD, because they were fucking under a table with all their friends here and Jesus, CHRIST.

 

She let out another screech, all but toppling Whitney over to get to the little bitch. "Oh, please, Whitney, let me just grab her hair one more time, please oh please!"

 

Sam nipped the shaft as he slid his head back, teeth tugging the soft underside of the head before deepthroating him again.  "Come on, baby," he whispered softly against the shaft.  "Shoot it off."

 

"I love you, Chloe.  But if her calling me a big idiot makes her feel all nice and special, let her.  Feel sorry for her, okay?"  He looked in her eyes.  "I know you don't think I'm a dumb idiot, and that's all I care about."

 

And the pure dirty part of this got him off. Hard. His balls contracted, his shaft swelled, and he slid his fingers through all that hair, exploding into coughs again as his eyes watered and he shot. Teeth had done it. Teeth, public, bad, GOOD.

 

She was infuriated, and didn’t feel bad in letting him see it. But she saw his point...and she knew he loved her, so enough was enough. She straightened her back… pushed her hair from the way, nodded at Pete, and grabbed Whitney’s hand. "Let’s go."

 

Whitney pulled her close and kissed her.  Nice, long, wet, slow kiss as his arms wrapped around her, his tongue and teeth nipping at her lips.  "C'mon, baby... forgive me?"

 

Sam swallowed as fast as he could, not spilling a drop as he licked the softening shaft clean and tucked him away.  Then he smirked as he pulled a five out, and dropped it on the table.  "See, Petey?  Told you I dropped something."  He smirked again.  "So, what'd I miss?"  He slid his hand into his lover's crotch as he pulled his chair back up to the table.

 

Shayla glared, but quietly ducked her head and sniffled once.  Despite her bravado and her yelling... nobody really did like her, and she picked up her stuff.  "Sorry I showed up, Sam... see you later, okay?"

 

He couldn’t kiss his lover, after such a great orgasm… not… not when they were in public. But really, who the fuck was paying attention to them, anyway? And who gave a shit, anyway? He tugged Sam’s lapels over to him and laid a heavy, hot, mind numbing kiss on him...swallowed once, nodded, and coughed lightly before Shayla looked at them. "H... hey... Shay... do you maybe w-wanna come hang out with Sam and me tonight? We're gonna... well, order in and watch porn, but we can catch a flick, if ya wanna."

 

She kissed back, but her temper was still bright. She nipped, softly, giving into the slow, wet kiss, and she shook her head. "Not mad at you. Come on, lets just go."

 

Sam kissed him back, hotly and wet, and then smirked as he left his arm over the back of Pete's chair.

 

Shayla... blinked.  And then blinked again.  "Um... didn't you... where... okay.  Um, yeah.  Porn's fine, I'm good with porn.  Don't have to do anything special for me."

 

Whitney nodded, and threaded his arm around her waist.  "Okay, baby.... I'd hate it if you were still mad at me."  He nibbled her shoulder as he walked out with her, rubbing her hip with his fingertips.  "If you calm down, I'll give you a back rub when we get home."

 

He was still trembling… couldn’t be helped, and he rubbed at his cheek slightly as he plastered a smile on his face. "Naw, its cool. We can see Braveheart're some shit, ya know? Ya like Chinese?"

 

Calm?  Snerk. "I can't BELIEVE that little bitch! Who the hell does she think she is, anyhow? Huh? What is her damage?" And so she was muttering as they left.

 

And very suddenly, Pete wanted, deep in his heart, to tell the world about him and Sam. But he wasn’t sure how cool Sam'd be with it so he kept mum, instead squirming in his seat a little and smiling. "You’re seventeen, right? Wanna make sure we're not inviting, you know, like, a 15 year old over for porn, dude. Not that you look fifteen or anythin', just gotta make sure."  And a quick glance up to Sam, asking without words if it was cool to have her over. She looked so sad after all.

 

"Oh, yeah.  Chinese is fine.  And yeah... I'm seventeen, I've seen porn before, believe me."

 

Sam nodded once when Pete's eyes flicked over to him, and he leaned over.  "It's okay with me, baby... just means we have an audience when I jerk you off."  He grinned.  "Let the girl watch porn if she wants; free country and all."

 

Whitney nuzzled her again, laughing softly as they walked out.  "I love you."

 

A little blink at his lover… then grinned and glanced back to Shayla. "Yeah. So. Maybe we should tell you a few things before you leap into this. And maybe...dude, Sam, we should just take her to a movie. She might get all freaked the hell out."

 

Sam stared pointedly at her pink hair, and the rainbow hue of her pocketbook.  "C'mon, Petey.  Look at the girl.  You really think she's gonna get flipped by a little of the boyo-boyo love?"

 

Shayla squealed.  "Is that what you were doin' under the table down there?  Oh, my God, that is so hot!"

 

Oh, my GOD. He flushed, looked away, and rubbed a hand over his face as he sighed. Yeah. Alright? Yeah. His cock was still throbbing, snuggled happily in his jeans. "N... naw. He… and... yeah." Another sigh. "That’s what he was doing down there."

 

"Oh, wow!" she enthused again.  "Man, that's just... in public too!"  She grinned.  "Oh, man, hell yeah.  I'm comin' over tonight."

 

"No! But!" He stared at her… looked at Sam...back to her. "Shayla, you're a sweet girl, dude. We're a coupla guys... don’t wanna ruin your mind like that, yo."

 

"Oh, come on.  My big brother's bangin' big Papa Luthor, so hey... my mind's already there, and come on, please?"  She batted wide green eyes at Pete.

 

Sam choked again.  "Jesus fuckin' Christ."

 

His mouth just… dropped. Again to Sam....to the pretty girl...to Sam. "Holy Christ. Alright, look Shayla. You can come over for pizza and porn, but dude, ain’t no sexin' to be had, a'ight?"

 

Sam scowled.  "Pete... you know that ain't right!"  He slipped his hand into Pete's lap as they talked.

 

"C'mon, I'm even prepared!"  She opened up the little rainbow purse and dumped it out.  Wallet, lipstick, hairbrush, blush brush, and... condoms.  Twenty or thirty little packets.  "Please?"

 

"Holy fuck, girl, what the hell are you gonna have, an orgy?!" Pete let his jaw drop, thrust ever so casually into Sam’s fingers as his blood stirred, and picked up a few of the packets. "Ribbed for her pleasure… ribbed for his pleasure...strawberry?" He suddenly grinned. "I’m keepin' this one, yo. Shayla...you don’t need all these condoms, girl."

 

"Go ahead, keep any that you like, I got more at home."  She grinned.  "Never hurts to be prepared, and I do so need 'em!"

 

"Naw...you don’t. Girl, for the fun we have, you don’t always need these things. Put um away, yo." And he was talking to a girl about this, and he couldn’t help being flustered.

 

"It never hurts to be prepared."  She held up a small strip of flavored ones.  "See these?  These are for blow jobs.  Cause they don't taste icky."  She held up the ribbed ones.  "These?  For sex."  She held up the extra-lubed.  "For the backdoor." 

 

Sam was cracking the fuck up.

 

"Oh, my God." He just....stared at the girl, blinking a little bit...before sweeping them all up into his hands, handing them back to her, and linking his fingers. He leaned over, still staring. "Have you ever had sex, Shayla?"

 

"Well... no."  She held her purse open so that Pete could dump the condoms back into her purse, and then held up her blush brush.  "Not unless you count this thing."

 

"Which we don't," Sam had to bust in with.  "We're talking about a seriously hard, fleshed out dick."

 

"Well... um... then no."

 

He was still grinning, reaching over and taking the brush. Inspecting it...turning it over...staring. "Sam, man, you still got that fake ID?"

 

"You guys have fake IDs?"  Shayla's eyes were huge.  "Lemme see!!"

 

Sam pulled out his actual license, which had his age at the appropriate 21 that he really was, and slid it across to Shayla.  "Straight from Gotham and everything."  Richard Samuel Grayson, it said.

 

"See? Mah main mans got it goin on." Pete beamed. "Sam, man, why don’t we take this girl over to the adult Cineplex and buy her somethin' real, yo. Cause this...dude, this is damn pitiful." He pulled the brush up, and handed it back over. "You do realize, sweetie, that dicks're uh little...bigger, right?"

 

Sam leaned forward and bit Pete's ear.  "Only if we get you something with bells on it, dawg."  Then he leaned back.  "Sure, why not?  I'm up for it.  You up for a little shopping trip, honey?"

 

"Like... how much bigger?" she asked.  "I know they re, but, I've never seen one, you know, in the flesh?" she finished hopefully, eyeing Pete first and then Sam.  "I love to shop."

 

"You've never....Sam, was this wide eyed innocence as alluring to you in me as I’m seeing it in this chick?" And his gaze, when it flicked over to him and away from Shayla, was utterly adoring. "We gotta teach her uh li'l somethin' somethin'." He grinned towards pinky as he rose, grabbing his coffee and making sure his pants were buttoned. "Alright, Shayla, m'dear. C'mon. We gotta lot to do before tonight."

 

"Oh, yeah, baby.  It was.  You have no idea how alluring innocence really is, until you get it in your bed, debauch it, and completely strip it away."  Sam got up behind Pete, putting the lid on his coffee.  "C'mon.  Leave that blue heap here, baby, we'll take my Camaro."

 

"Whoa.  I'm going to go shopping for sex toys in a Camaro.  Hot damn, my day is lookin' up."  She put her purse strap over her shoulder, and wormed her way in to stand between Pete and Sam.  "Okay, so... let's go?"

 

He chuckled, looked over her head, and met his lovers eyes, even as he got a tad...uncomfortable in his pants region. "Wanna get something for the weekend while we're over there?" Then he offered his arm to Shayla. "I hope you know Chloe's gonna have my ass when she sees us talkin."

 

"Of course."  Sam slid his hand down to squeeze Pete's ass firmly before Shayla wiggled between them.  "Shayla, honey... we're seein' to your education.  Anything you want, it's on me."

 

"Oooh, I love a sugar daddy!" she squealed, and she turned around to kiss him heavily, nipping his lips and wrapping a leg around his waist.

 

"And, I will have you know, its not a heap. It’s Lolita, my Hispanic conchita from the burrows of--Holy fuck!" Because suddenly...mouthful of tiny virgin pink haired girl, leg around his waist, valley of her hips digging into his...guuuuh.

 

He tugged...yanked...lifted her up bodily by the hips before he set her down in front of him.  “Okay… Shayla? No."

 

Sam didn't even bother stifling the snicker.  "What, I'm the sugar daddy, and I don't get a kiss of hotness?"  That said, however, he wrapped his arm around Pete's waist and tugged backwards, hard enough to pull Pete against his chest, cock rubbing possessively against Pete's ass.

 

Shayla was pouting.  "Awww, C'mon, Pete!  I can kiss better than that, I swear!  Sides, I know you were likin' it!"

 

"Alright, people! Public, here!" He grabbed Shayla by the hand as he tugged her out in front of him...using her body to block the raging hard-on the kiss and Sam’s cock had caused, cause, you know, there’s only so many fantasies he could have about threesomes and not explode in his pants. He swallowed, followed his best friend, and tried not to make a scene. "I know you can, Shayla, but I’m not the one to be experimentin' on."

 

She pouted.  Again.  "But... but why not?  I mean, I could try it out on Sam, but I don't think he's into it, and then I know that Clark and AJ aren't, and the big dumb blonde is too much that... big and dumb, so please, Pete?  C'mon, that leaves you."

 

"Because.  He's.  Taken," Sam growled softly.  "That's why."

 

Oh. Rush, pure hot pleasure down his back, and Pete brightened visibly. He turned, sent his friend a blinding smile that promised pleasure as soon as he could get his lover behind closed doors, and he smirked at Shayla easily. "That’s why. So, tell me Shay. 6 inches gonna be alright? Or ya want more?"

 

Sam's hand slid down the back of Pete's jeans at that, fingertips rubbing over the small of his back and dipping into the very top of the crevice between Pete's cheeks, not saying a word.  If he could have managed it, he would have stuck his hands down the front of his jeans instead and staked his claim that way.

 

"Well... how big are you?" Shayla flirted, batting her eyes.  "Look, I know, but... you're nice to me.  I just wanna be nice back."

 

Bad. Bad to be talking about sex and dicks when Sam’s hand was where it shouldn’t be, and oh, thank god he'd remembered to wear a baggy shirt. His eyes crossed for half a moment before focusing on the pretty girl, an he swallowed a little. "Uh...'bout five and a half."

 

Sam laughed, nice and deep in his ear.  "You're a little better hung than that, my friend," Sam teased, his fingers going further down.  "Try about seven."

 

Shayla's eyes widened.  "Wow. Yeah.  Let's go with that."

 

"Gonna kill me, you fucker." Pete whispered softly, pushing back into the palm as they strolled to where the car was parked on the curb, and he cleared his throat, hard, and still managed to sound husky. "Uh...Shay, it might be too big for ya. Still a virgin, n'all."

 

"Ain't nothin' too big for me!" she puffed up.

 

A sharp bite to Pete's ear.  "You could... offer to help... with that... as long as I can watch," he growled.  "And... you can drive the Camaro... cause I have somethin' to take care of.”

 

He swallowed, hard, and took the keys from Sam's pocket, where they always were. "Shay... babe, lemme show ya, first, 'for ya go and buy somethin' that’s gonna hurt ya, kay? C'mon, get i... in." A little cough, aching in his pants, and he shifted feet a little as he cleared his throat again.

 

"Oh... oh wow.  Oh.  Yeah.  Okay."  Shayla's grin was wide and bright as she slid into the back seat of the Camaro.

 

Sam pressed Pete up against the driver's side face first, gently humping against his backside.  "Just you wait... until we get there.  Got these little booths... gonna take you in there and fuck you 'til you scream."

 

He was going to lose his mind. He pressed discreetly back into the push of warm hips...now that the doors were closed and Shayla was inside, he allowed himself a harsh, soft moan, closing his eyes for a second as he pressed his overheated dick into the car side. "Uh, g...fuck yes, Sam, can’t drive to Metropolis like this, fuck."

 

"Just gotta make it to the city limits, shouldn't take me that long to suck you off."  He slipped his hand around and gripped Pete's hard cock as he thrust in.  "Can you do that?"

 

Shayla plastered her face to the car window, watching the sensual thrust and rocking of their two male bodies.

 

"GAH! Christ! Fuck!" He let go of his lover, staring at Shayla right back, and slapped his hand to her forehead. "Good friggin God. C'mon, Sam, get in the car before we make a scene." He pulled the door open and flopped in, settling in and turning to face her. "Shayla, dude."

 

"Yeah?"  She smiled innocently at him.  "Wow.  You guys are just... wow."

 

Sam slid into the passenger side, and smirked back at their wild-haired passenger.  "That's just the free show," he said quietly. 

 

"Well, duh. What did you think, we masturbated together or somethin?" He grinned at her, softly, and glanced at Sam. "Maybe you should driven...if she wants to see, and all."

 

Sam smirked.  "You, my friend, keep your eyes on the road.  And you, little girl... eyes on the prize."  He leaned his seat back so that she could see over it, and then tilted Pete's back and down, just a little.  "There."  He slipped his hand into Pete's lap, and slowly unzipped his lover's jeans.  "Now... just because you see this... don't mean you're gonna get it.  It's mine, and I don't share.  Got it, little girl?"

 

Shayla nodded, dumbstruck.  "Yeah.  I got it."

 

He swallowed, hard, setting the mirrors before revving the engine. Must not think of penis. Must not think of penis. Must watch the road. Even if elbows are shaking. He arched his hips a little to help and pulled out, checking his blind spots as his eyes kind of...locked ahead of him. The cool air hit his underwear a moment later, and he set the heat on low as his eyes fell to half mast. "Mmmm."

 

"Good," Sam said, and slid Pete's hard cock out of his underwear.  "Now this, little girl, is about the size you say you want."

 

Shayla's eyes were huge.  "Oh.  My.  God.  No... no fucking way will that fit!!"  She almost almost cringed into the upholstery. 

 

Sam howled with laughter.  "Then you definitely don't want to see mine."

 

He could barely speak...just groaning as it hit the air, shuddering back into his seat. He locked both hands on the steering wheel, keeping it straight as the cold hair hit the sensitive head, and he twitched. "To...told you, sweetheart." He swallowed hard. "We'll ge... get you two smaller ones to start y.. .your collection, fuck, Sam, touch me please."

 

"Don't beg, baby... I'll have to fuck you where you stand."  Sam leaned over in the seat, licking the head and sucking it into his hot mouth before pumping the shaft with his fist.  He didn't even care to show off for Shayla anymore, just sucked Pete as deep as the steering wheel would let him, fist pumping the rest of the length.

 

"D… don’t make me beg." And he whimpered very, very softly, stopping a little hard at a stop sign before tugging the wheel to the left, and out onto the ramp way to the highway.

 

Sam murmured softly around his mouthful of Pete, tongue sliding and slicking along the shaft as it slicked his fist.  Hard, fast, jerking strokes, twisting his wrist slightly as he made hungry noises in his throat.  "Got you, baby... got you right here, taking care of you."

 

FuckohgodshitchristohGod. Two blow jobs by his lover in an hours time. Oh, GUH. He couldn’t touch, just hold onto the steering wheel as he pulled out onto the highway, gunning it to 70 as he shuddered.  His thighs went lax... his shoulders limp, and the muscles in his ass clenched hard. A low, guttural moan left him without his consent, and he whispered, "can't kill Shayla. Must watch road. can't kill Shayla. Must watch road."

 

Shayla... was thunderstruck, and so hot she couldn't stand it.  Leaning forward, she licked Pete's ear, tasting a drop of the sweat that slipped down from his temple.  "Pete... you're so hot."

 

"Lift up, Pete," Sam said, as though reading his lover's thoughts.  "Lemme at your ass."  He slid his hand under Pete's jeans, and rubbed his skin, cock back deep in his throat as he wedged himself under the steering wheel.

 

"Fuck, fuck, Sam, can't d-drive l… like this… c.." Then the little tongue at his ear and he bucked, groaned, and lifted his hips just a little, trying to drive as he got the best fucking blow he'd ever gotten ever. He moaned, harshly, ass clenching, over and over, as if looking for the cock to fuck it. "W...why didn’t you just… just take me… could have hidden in t-the bathroom, Sam, oh, God, yes..."

 

"Pull over then," Sam growled against his lover's cock, fingers sliding down under the curve to work gently into the tight little opening.  Slowly, without lube, Sam gently worked a single fingertip inside his love.  "Pull it over, baby, and I'll fuck you over the car."

 

He did. Right on the shoulder, not a soul for miles, but he tugged Sam off his dick, and smacked him lovingly. "Ass. Not gonna have mine freeze. Shayla, move over." He tugged at his lover even as his muscles clenched around the finger working into him, groaning and already maneuvering them into the back seat. "Sit in front."

 

"Holy... yeah."  She crawled over the top of Sam's fully clothed back, and curled into the warmth of his newly deserted passenger seat. 

 

Sam slid into the back on his back.  "Pete... gonna have to ride me... no room for anything else, but I'll fuck you hard, baby, I promise."  He leaned up on his elbows, pressing a hot, sloppy kiss on Pete's mouth as he slid back.

 

"Anyt...thing, any...Shayla, okay? Okay with this?" Because he was a sweet, lovely man he reached over and cupped her cheek, even as he situated himself atop his lover. "Don’t be scared...scares you, we'll stop, promise." He nodded it… grunting hard but not allowing himself to thrust until he was sure.

 

Shayla just nodded, unable to say anything else.  This... wow.  More than she thought she'd ever get to see.

 

Sam's hands gripped his lover's hips tightly.  "C'mon, baby... ride it hard... so slick already.  Be careful, don't wanna hurt you, not stretched enough," he whispered in a hot litany.  "Don't wanna hurt you, wanna fuck you hard, Pete, baby, please, ride me."

 

He didn’t need to be told twice.

 

He slipped his pants down further, baring his cock and balls, and didn’t care if he was stretched enough or not. He leaned down and kissed Sam, hard and hot and he threw his heart behind it, slicking his tongue inside and taking his pleasure. And as he took it he gave it, by reaching back and grasping the hard dick peeking from the zipper, slowly, carefully leading him to his hole.

 

Pete arched his back...groaned, and slowly began to sink down onto his best friend. Not stretched, not nearly enough, but the pain brightened the pleasure, and he gasped as he rocked up...then down, trying to get more in. "J... just sla-slam in… i's kay, get in, baby, please get in, get in, fuck me hard."

 

Sam bit his lover's lip lightly, then let go and gripped Pete's hips tightly in his hands.  "I'm sorry, baby, don't wanna hurt you."  He pulled his hips back, and then forced himself in, a single, hard thrust that sheathed his cock into Pete's tight opening.  "Ssh... I got you baby, it's okay.  I'm here, I've got you."  He licked Pete's ear, pressed kisses to his face and mouth.  "I'm here, baby... tell me when I can move."

 

He gasped...gagged on the cry, and pain spiked behind his eyeballs. He leaned down and grasped his lover, hard, tugging himself as close as he could. Never done it like this, never, but oh, GOD, it was so GOOD. So worth the pain, and after a few moments, sure of his lovers size, he pulled and squirmed his hips, still lying belly to chest with his lover...and without thought, giving certain pink haired females really, really good looks of Sam buried into the hilt inside him. "Good...good, baby, so good, fuck me, fuck me hard, c'mon, fuck, fuck me," He gasped, moving and undulating his hips, rubbing his hard cock on a tense belly. "C'mon, c'mon."

 

Sam's hands gripped Pete's hips tightly, arching up and rubbing his cock between their bellies as he thrust in.  "Oh yeah.  Fuck, you're tight... so hot around my dick."  He kissed Pete hard, tongue thrusting, hips snapping up to drive his cock deeper and deeper into his lover.

 

Shayla was in shock.  Sam, Jesus God, he was just... huge.  Bigger than Pete, and it was going inside.  Oh, Holy God.  She was going to die watching this, it was so fucking hot, and then the kisses... oh.  Tongues sliding against each other, wet sucking noises and grunts and dull thud of flesh slamming against flesh and she whimpered softly.  God.  She was just going to die.

 

Sam slid his hands from Pete's hips, up his shirt to hard, pebbled nipples.  Finding them easily, he raked his nails lightly over the peaked nubs, pinching them between his fingers and rolling them.  His cock fucked harder into Pete's ass, and the car shook with the force of their thrusting and rocking.

 

"Oh, GOD!" He cried it, shuddering as he reared back. Sat up... Settled… and he felt Sam's dick so deep inside him, inside his belly, and he moaned harshly as he rubbed his lower belly. Another dark, loud sound reverberated from him before Pete leaned back, grabbing onto his thighs and pushing forward. "Sam! Oh, God, baby, oh God, please, yes, God, YES!" It hurt, but for some reason it was GOOD pain and it spiked all the way to his brain, putting his pleasure on a fine, sharp edge. Rolled his head… met Shayla's eyes and gasped, asking if she was okay without words, groaning darkly as he met each rocking thrust.

 

Shayla nodded, meeting Pete's eyes.  Her purse was clutched to her chest, jaw dropped slightly.

 

Sam left one hand on Pete's chest, pinching and teasing his nipples under the shirt, and his other hand slipped down to stroke the hard cock rubbing against his belly.  Hard, fast strokes, like the ones his hips were pounding out in Pete's ass, and he flicked his wrist, twisting the loose skin of Pete's cock gently as he jacked it.  "Fuck, baby... you're so hot... so fucking tight, tighter than you've ever been."  He shuddered, twisting his hips up and thrusting hard as he could.  "Going to come, Pete, going to come fucking soon!"

 

He gasped...undulated his hips as he lost control of his movements. Always did, in those last few precious seconds before orgasm. He stroked, harder, jerky, fast, grunting as he squeezed down with all his might...and came. A loud cry of warning before the cry became one of pure pleasure, coming all over his lovers fist and belly, moaning loudly and clenching his teeth. Rubbed himself against Sam’s driving dick, pressing it against his prostate and squirming. Oh, guhfuckingUH.

 

"Fuck!"  Sam swore loudly as he felt his cock slam against Pete's prostate, then the rush of hot come on his fist was all it took.  "Pete!"  His nails left small furrows in Pete's hips from where his fingers dug in as he thrust deep, his cock shuddering and coming hard.  He was rocking Pete on his cock as the last of his come rolled out of his cock, mouth capturing Pete's and kissing hard. 

 

He kissed back, just as hard, panting into those soft lips as he cupped his cheeks and gave him his pleasure. Soft and sweet and how he felt whenever he was with his best friend...and Pete knew, it was enough for now. He groaned, heat sliding up inside him, and Christ, so good, so goddamn GOOD. So much so that he shuddered from his head to his toes, moaning softly and trembling. "Y… oh... S…"

 

Sam's arms locked around Pete's back, fingers linking at the small of it.  Nothing else registered for a long moment; not their surroundings, not the fact that they weren't alone, nothing.  "Pete... baby... are you okay?"  Sam held his lover close.  "You sore?"  He pressed soft kisses to Pete's temple.  "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

 

"Little." A whisper, and a long, racking tremble through him. "F...felt so good." And the second tremble accompanied a whimper, as he lay down against his lover. Cheek to chest, resting as his chest heaved… sticky and the scent of sex was alive in the air, and yeah, good? Felt good? Yep.

 

"I'm sorry."  He cradled Pete against his shoulder.  "Never again, I promise.  Won't hurt you again."

 

A shaking hand held an extra-lubricated condom over the back of the seat.  "Um... little um... little late, but uh... think this'll help?"

 

Sam nodded, a little shocked to realize they weren't alone.  "Yeah.  Yeah, it'll help."  Without taking his arms from around Pete, he opened the condom packet, pulled out the rubber ring, and rolled it over his first two fingers.  "This might hurt, but it'll make you feel better, I promise.  Gonna slick you up inside so it doesn't burn so much, so it's not as dry in there."  He pressed kisses during all the words, and his fingertips rubbed the cool, slick rubber over the tight ring of muscle.  "Relax, baby."

 

He jumped...and now that the fun sex haze was over, he hissed, laying his cheek on his lovers chest and closing his eyes. "Sam, it... just rough sex, I’m okay." But he relaxed anyway, sighing softly, and yeah, listening to his lovers heart thumping in his chest, his tender hands and the winter sun through the windows, and he was going to fall asleep. "'m akay, baby."

 

"So you'll be even more okay," Sam said quietly.  Then he looked up at Shayla.  "Got a license?"

 

"Yeah, but I've never driven on the interstate before!"

 

"It's easy.  Go straight on this one until you see the Metropolis exit, take it, and hang a left.  Me or Pete'll take it from there."  Sam didn't stop his gentle stroking and spreading the slick lube inside his lover.  "I'm gonna take care of you, Petey... nobody, not even me, is gonna hurt you."  He glared at the girl.  "So what are you waiting for?  Drive."

 

"F'lls good." Softly, as sleep began to tug at him....then his eyes flew open and he struggled against Sam, eyes wide. "No, she can't...Sam, she...she could have an accident, just drive us man, I’m fine." He nodded. "Id like ta get there in a single piece, ya know." But he was grinning, and cupped his cheek.

 

"Shut up and let me take care of you."  Sam rubbed his cheek against Pete's hand.  "Yes, she can.  I'm not lettin' you outta my sight."  He nipped along Pete's lip.  "Go on to sleep, baby.  We got a couple hours ride ahead of us."

 

Dude, dont need anybody to take care'a my ass." But he listened anyway, laying back down and yawning… then he he turned, pointing his face the other day, and reached out. "Shayla? Ya akay?"

 

"Maybe don't need it, but you got it anyway."  Sam rolled down the window and threw the used condom out the window as Shayla finally got the car rolling.

 

Shayla's voice was breathy.  "Um... yeah.  I'm okay.  That was just... oh my God.  So hot and just... God.  You guys are just... so in love."

 

Pete...just...stared. "Scuse?"

 

"Well, duh!"  She checked the two of them out in the rearview mirror.  "You didn't know?"

 

Oh, God. His face flushed... he couldn’t quite meet his friend in the eye, and he began to tug away. "You don’t know what you're talking about, Shay."

 

Sam caught Pete's face and turned it to his, despite the squirming.  "Would it be so bad if I loved you, Pete?"

 

His breath caught, quite suddenly, and he trembled… staring into those soft, beautiful chasms. "S... Sam, you d...don’t know, what you're talking about. Its not. Just… its just sex, and fun, and all. Right?"

 

"It's whatever you want it to be, Pete.  If that's all you want it to be, then that's all it'll be.  And if you want it to be more, then it is.  And yeah... I know what you're thinkin', and no, it's not true."

 

"Yes, it is." He swallowed reflexively, and the words were spilling before he knew what to do with them… but he had to get off his lover, rolling and tugging up at his underwear as he watched Sam like a hawk. "M… maybe I want it to be more."

 

"Baby... what makes you think I don't?"  He caught Pete's wrist before he could move completely off of him.

 

"Cause I’m me." His throat worked again, and he didn’t like this. Didn’t like showing weakness, even if Sam made him feel safe and comfortable and happy. "B… because you're older, and... and you know. And I’m black. Y... you know. That stuff."

 

"You're black?  Hadn't noticed."  He sat up halfway in the seat and wrapped his arms around Pete.  "It's cause you're you that I... I want more.  Cause you're you that I gave you my house key, cause of who you are--and the fact I don't wanna ever break your heart--that I'm goin' to meet your parents.  Don't care if you're black.  Don't care if you're younger and I'm older.  Don't give a rip-roarin' fuck one way or the other."

 

Pete laughed a little and accepted the hug, pulling him in tight. "Yeah? I mean...really?"

 

"I mean it, baby."  Sam fitted his face into the hollow of Pete's throat.  "Really."

 

"Well, damn!  I did somethin' good for a change!"

 

He laughed at the front seat... before reaching up and cupping Sam’s cheek, tugging him in for a long, soft, warm kiss, muttering, "Still not gay." And his fingertips gently stroked a taut belly... gently caressed his bare, limp cock, gently, lovingly.

 

"No, baby, you're not.  You're just mine."  He arched into the loving caress of Pete's fingers.  "Just mine."  He returned the soft kiss whole-heartedly, holding Pete tightly against him.

 

"I love you." Quietly. "Been here through thick and thin, bitch. Can’t help but love you." And he poked him in the ribs, hard, then tickled his tummy and tackled him in peppered kisses on his face.

 

"I love you too, Petey."  Sam giggled softly as Pete tickled him, oofing as he was tackled and hooking his leg around Pete's hip. 

 

Shayla grinned in the front seat as she fought to keep the car on the road.  "God, you guys are so cute.  Clueless, but cute."

 

    

-fin-

 

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