Glee Fic: Love in the Air (Mercedes/Sam, R)
Title: Love in the Air
Author: bana05
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Mercedes/Sam, glee club
Word Count: 3855
Spoilers: All of Glee thus far.
Disclaimer: Glee ain’t mine, unfortunately; otherwise, Mercedes would have a harem.
Summary: Sam realizes there's a difference when love's involved.
Author’s notes: Twenty Seven of the "Then Came You" series. Rating for naughty words and deeds. Please forgive errors and enjoy!
~~~~~
The room smelled like love, and it made Sam smile.
He hadn't opened his eyes yet, merely breathed in deeply through his nose when the scent registered in his brain, but he'd recognized how different this smell was than it'd ever been in his life. Intellectually, he knew no smell could be the same with different experiences, but none of them had brought such an automatic smile to his face as this one had.
Sam's first time had been in Memphis, the summer before he'd moved to Lima, actually, with the cute visiting cousin of one of his down-the-street neighbors. She'd been vastly experienced, at least to his mind, and had taught him well. She'd been the queen of quickies those two weeks before he'd moved, though; so while the pleasure was fast in coming, disappointment would settle in even faster after it was all over.
She'd never stuck around long enough afterwards for him to catalog their smell.
Quinn had been his next experience, though that had been more heavy petting than anything else. They'd only gone all the way twice, the first time right after Kurt's and Finn's parents' wedding and she was on a post-nuptial high; and the second after his Justin Beiber performance and, looking back on it, a desperate attempt to reassure herself she'd not been interested in Finn at all. Sam had always let her determine how far they'd go because he'd respected what she'd gone through being pregnant. He'd been grateful for every little nugget she'd given him, and had shaken so badly their first time she'd been the one to take the reins. Actually, she had both times-all but attacking him after that glee club performance with the rest of the boys (save Finn) as soon as he'd reached her house after school.
They'd smelled like desperate affection he'd realized weeks later; at the time though, he'd thought it was more.
Santana had been the best Sam had ever had, and also the worst. Despite her inconsideration outside of the bedroom; inside, she was assured and actually quite giving, although that generosity was from a selfish source rather than an altruistic one. She had a rep to maintain in her and one to cultivate in him; the last thing she needed or wanted was a boyfriend of hers to not be satisfied in bed. The problem, however, was she'd rarely let him return the favor. Even in his lovemaking, and probably especially there, he lived by the adage it was better to give than to receive. Santana had never let him give her an orgasm, although he'd come close three times. She' d shove him off her and finish it herself, thus denying him the credit.
They'd smelled like resentment, and it was the scent he missed the least.
"Sam?"
He looked down at the woman he held in his arms, the soft blinks and the hazy eyes trying to focus on his face. He smiled a little wider and kissed her forehead, pulling her closer to him.
"Good morning, love," he rumbled.
She ducked her head adorably and brushed her nose against his nipple. Sam chuckled and took another deep breath of their mingled scents still lingering in the air.
"I ache everywhere," Mercedes moaned. "And I'm hoarse."
"That's what bein' well-loved feels like, lady," Sam said in a John Wayne impersonation.
"Are you sore?" she asked.
He lazily closed his eyes. "No…"
"Does that mean I didn't love you well?"
His eyes popped open. "Mercedes?" She hid her face even more in his chest and he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. There was concern and a little contrition there, and he shook his head, kissing first one eye and then the other.
"You love me perfectly, all the time," Sam promised.
She pulled an incredulous face but didn't dispute him, and he smiled and kissed her nose in reward. Now her face scrunched up adorably and Sam laughed, cupping her cheek in his palm. For a moment, he just gazed at her and she let him, only averting her eyes once or twice under his scrutiny.
"Are we goin' to church today?"
She blinked. "You want to?"
"I brought something this time…"
A slow smile brightened her face. "Really, Sam?"
"Yeah, I love your church, Mercedes…" He'd been thinking of just joining outright, but he didn't want to leave Quinn by herself. Things were still rocky between her mother; and even after almost two years, she was still dealing with whispers from the congregation. Maybe they both should officially switch flocks-
Mercedes' kiss knocked all thoughts of churches from his head and he gathered her closer, her soft breasts pressing against his hard chest. Sam moaned, slipping his tongue inside her mouth, and his hardening cock brushed against her inner thigh. It wanted in, and it wanted in now.
"Are you too sore for a quickie?" he asked against her lips.
She shifted her hips so the crisp hairs of her nether lips dragged against the head of his penis. He almost came then and there.
"I'm too greedy for a quickie, Sam," she murmured, tugging on his upper lip with her teeth. "And I cannot go into my church after doing…that!"
Sam snickered. "I bet your parents do!"
"My parents can because they're married," Mercedes reminded him.
Sam scooted down the bed until their faces were level. He drifted a finger along the bridge of her nose and she closed her eyes at the contact. "That's something to look forward to, then," he ultimately said in a quiet voice.
"Sex before church?" Mercedes asked on a snort.
Sam kissed her tenderly. "Making love to my wife before I go thank the Lord for blessing me with her."
Mercedes palmed his cheek and smiled, her eyes still closed. "Yeah, still here. One day I'll have to wake up from this dream, though, and I'm dreadin' the hell out of that!"
He huffed a laugh through his nose and kissed her again, this time adding tongue to make sure she realized this was, in fact, real and much better than any dream he could conjure.
Church was more electric than Sam had ever seen it, the pastor using Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" as the basis of his message. Sam had never heard of the letter before, but Mercedes apparently had, even quoting some lines from the letter along with the reverend. Sam was amazed by how something written almost fifty years ago could be so incredibly relevant today, just going by his personal experiences with Mercedes alone. He'd known cursory details about all of the liberation movements in the Middle East and North Africa from last year because the network news always got the best reception in the motel room. But the other things like the London Riots last summer and even, apparently, an incident in Mississippi where a black man was run over simply for being black could still happen.
Sam, who'd already been holding Mercedes' hand throughout the service, held it a little tighter after that.
When church ended, Sam gripped Mercedes' hand and fought his way to the pulpit, having to stop to say hello to members who knew Mercedes and were starting to get to know him. Several of the elders nudged Mercedes' shoulder with their elbows and declared Sam adorable, causing them both to blush and Mercedes to give a giggling thank you. They finally made it to the front, and the reverend's eyes brightened at the sight of them.
"Children, well, not so much now, I suppose. You all right, Mercedes?"
"Yes, Reverend Albright, but I think Sam wants to talk to you?"
Sam glanced uncertainly at his girlfriend before facing the reverend. "How do I go about joining your church?"
Mercedes gasped and the reverend's eyebrows rose. "You sure?"
Sam nodded. "Every time I come, I enjoy myself and learn something, and everyone's been real nice. And this is my lady's church so…"
"Your lady?"
Sam bristled slightly but stood straighter. "Mercedes is a lady and she is mine."
Mercedes inhaled sharply and squeezed his hand hard. "Sam!"
"Son, that was a mighty declarative statement."
Sam tilted up his chin. He could get far more declarative than that, but he figured Mercedes would kill him and ask God for forgiveness later so he kept his mouth shut.
"Son, you don't have to join the church just to talk to me if you need to talk-not that I want to turn down membership, but…you're unique."
"I'm white," Sam said baldly.
Reverend Albright nodded. "Yes, and I know you're with Mercedes, here, but I don't want angry parents descending upon this church because I did something without their permission."
Mercedes came to the Evanses' defense. "Sam's parents aren't like that!"
Reverend Albright turned a little sad. "Parents aren't a whole lot of things until their children stumble upon those hidden 'Do Not Cross' signs…seen it happen to many times to not protect myself and this church from it."
Sam's shoulders slumped and he clenched his jaw. "It ain't right!"
"No, it's not," Reverend Albright agreed, then granted them a small smile. "But the way you treat Miss Jones here is-don't think I don't see you in the congregation-"
"Kinda hard to miss," Sam muttered, and he smiled when Mercedes hid her laugh in his upper arm.
Reverend Albright chuckled a little. "Yeah, but…you call Mercedes here a lady and rightfully so; so for me, that makes you a man-a gentleman-and that's all right in my book. And God's, if I may be so bold."
They stayed only a few moments more, Reverend Albright using a compliment to Mercedes' haircut to ask after Miss Renée in a way that made Mercedes smile coyly and tell him she'd be back from New York sometime tomorrow afternoon.
"Just curious," Reverend Albright said, coughing slightly. "Missed her fabulous hat today…"
They stopped by a KFC on the way to Mercedes' home and got into an argument at the window for a good three minutes before a honk from the minivan behind them and the window attendant huffing for the fourth time ultimately declared Mercedes the winner of paying for the food. Tense silence was the unexpected third party of their late lunch/early dinner, and Mercedes went to change immediately after she finished eating and clearing her spot.
Sam loosened his tie and pulled his shirttails out of his trousers to get comfortable on the couch. ESPN provided background noise to his suddenly surly mood and he scowled at his phone while texting Mike to let him know the house was still standing hopefully and ignoring Puck's, Kurt's, and Finn's texts asking for what happened between him and Mercedes last night. His lady returned ten minutes later looking positively scrumptious in a thin, tight long-sleeved T-shirt that couldn't hide her black sports bra and thin pajama pants.
"Are you leaving today or tomorrow?"
Sam blinked slowly at her. "You want me to leave?" Truth be told, this wasn't exactly the way he thought the day after their first time would go.
Mercedes glared at the television. "You seem pissed, especially after talking to Reverend Albright, which had been your idea-"
"Just find it curious that after a sermon based off of Martin Luther King, Jr., he won't let me join his church," Sam muttered with a shrug.
She pinned far-too-revealing eyes upon him. "That it, Sam?"
He looked away from her and sighed, shook his head, then grabbed her hand and tugged her closer. She planted her feet once her knees bumped his so Sam sat forward and kissed her belly.
"Stay grounded, Sam," she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair.
"I'd rather fly with you," he murmured against her navel. He loved her stomach. It was soft and fleshy and woman even though she was just seventeen and not quite there yet. He was just seventeen, and Sam belatedly realized that was the point Reverend Albright was trying to make.
He'd also sussed out the "church" Sam wanted to join had little to do with the brick-and-mortar building in which they'd been standing.
"Why didn't you want me to pay earlier?" she asked, not acknowledging his last comment. "I thought we'd resolved that issue."
"I'm the man. The gentleman," Sam explained, resting his cheek on her stomach and closing his eyes. The under-curve of her breasts brushed against his forehead and temple with each breath she made. "It's my job."
"Sam-"
"I'm Southern, Mercedes; that's how I was raised," Sam said, pulling back and bringing her with him. She didn't resist this time and straddled him, discomfort flitting across her face for a moment. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah…"
He blinked, then he grinned, earning a slap on the shoulder. "Sorry-"
"No, you're not!" Mercedes challenged but chuckled anyway though she tried to scoot back.
"Where you goin'?" he asked low.
"Um…"
"If it don't hurt too bad, stay…you feel good on…"
"I feel good on?"
"Yeah," Sam said, his hand immediately going to her hair to feel the softness of her curls. Mercedes closed her eyes to relish in his touch, and never before had he known he could make a girl "relish" anything.
"On me, around me," Sam murmured, sliding his hand down from her hair, across her shoulder, collarbone, and breast to settle upon her hip before sliding between her thighs. There was another football playoff game queuing up, but Sam had no interest watching that and every interest watching Mercedes as he filled her from the inside.
"Still can't figure out how Santana said you have no game," she mumbled, moving her hips in time to his fingers.
"Because I really don't have game," Sam agreed, kissing her jaw. "Just truth, love, and you. Reckon that's all I need, actually."
Mercedes didn't want to watch the game, either, and led him by the shirttails back to her room. She undressed him as he sat perched on the edge of her bed and loved his cock with her mouth before letting him sheath himself with a condom so she could love his cock with her pussy. Discomfort wisped across her face again when he'd entered her, but used his lips on her neck to distract her from it and even replace it with pleasure.
"Like this?" Mercedes asked breathlessly when she realized he was inside her as she straddled him.
"Yes. I love holding you like this," Sam said, pulling her shirt and bra off with less finesse than he'd liked but it got the job done. Her breasts bounced against her torso and he lifted them to his face. Mercedes laughed and he smiled, kissing both areolas before reaching her lips again. He thrust into her lazily, his body absorbing every shudder hers made, and the way her body moved had him biting his lip to muffle his moans. She was the slickest, creamiest vice around his dick and he never wanted to leave her.
He started to lean back and she began to follow, but he kept his arms locked so she snaked above him.
"Fuck, yes, Kurt's right-you're a goddess," Sam muttered, cupping her large breasts in his hands while licking his lips. Mercedes palmed his hands over her chest and scrunched her eyes tightly, moving harder and faster above him. He didn't care her rhythm wasn't smooth or sometimes she ground against him so hard he lost his breath. She was the best, she was love, and she was his.
"Sam-"
Her grunt and whimper cut off whatever she wanted to say, and the way she fluttered around his cock told him she was close. Sam pulled her to his chest and flipped them over, looming above her as he thrust hard and deep inside of her.
"Come all over me, Mercy," he urged, kneading her breasts as he gyrated his hips into hers. Mercedes groaned, her brown eyes wild as she stared at him. Suddenly she grinned, and Sam could do nothing but taste that grin with his mouth. After that, all he could hear was their heavy breathing, the headboard knocking against her wall, and his shouted name as she reached her climax. Sam groaned Mercedes' name into her neck and inhaled.
Love. All over. He felt himself getting high again.
"Are you…sniffing me?"
"Yes," he muttered into her skin, then licked the salty taste of it. Delicious.
"Do most guys do that after sex?"
"I have no idea because I've never had sex with a guy."
Mercedes burst out laughing before reining it back in. "Oh, goodness; I think Kurt would be severely disappointed by that last year!"
He pulled his head from her neck and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Massive crush on you, he had," Mercedes revealed, brushing some of his fringe from his forehead. "I mean, I got it on a purely aesthetic level but you didn't impress me much then."
Sam grinned and kissed her lips lightly. "I thought you were sexy with your New York shirt on that first day. Puck kept checkin' out your ass too."
Mercedes snorted. "Kinda big."
"And soft," Sam added, palming her butt cheeks in his hands. "One of my favorite parts of you."
"What are the other ones?" she asked and began clenching around his cock again.
"Your lips," he said against them as he started to thrust once more. "Both sets…"
By the time Sam returned to the Chang house the next day, over half of Mercedes' brother's box of condoms was now in her wastebasket. Mercedes had sent him home with a tin full of cookies and hickeys on his neck and other places clothes normally covered. He was sore, too, a revelation that had made Mercedes beam adorably, and he'd missed her just as soon as he'd crossed the threshold of her house toward his truck.
He was knocked out when the Changs arrived home and would've stayed asleep had Mike not awakened him that Tuesday morning for school.
"Feelin' all right, man?" Mike asked, frowning.
Sam gave him a half-smile and nodded, knowing he was too close to blurting out what had happening yet know this was neither the time nor the place with fifteen minutes to get to school. Luckily, he was pretty quiet in the mornings, but Mike wasn't an idiot, either; he knew something major had gone down with his friend.
It took Sam a moment to spot Mercedes in the hallways, and she was walking kind of slow. It wasn't icy on the steps this morning at school, but that didn't mean she didn't wipeout in her driveway. He was just about to go see if she were okay when Tina, Santana, and Quinn approached.
"I know that walk," Tina said on a laugh. "I slipped on some ice going toward our cabin in the Poconos!"
Mike snickered into his locker and Sam elbowed him, biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh as well.
"I'm sorry; that was hilarious. I just wish I'd gotten it on camera!"
The girls looked to them and Tina glared. "If you'd gotten that on camera, Michael Chang, you'd become well acquainted with your hand for the next few weeks!"
"Wanky," Santana said, quirking an eyebrow, and Quinn and Mercedes giggled, touching foreheads together.
"Tina, that type of punishment to me is a punishment to you too," Mike reminded his girlfriend. The answering smirk she gave had Mike's face falling very flat. "Wait, what?"
"Wanky!" the other three girls exclaimed and laughed, slapping each other's hands.
Sam knew his face was blazing, but now all he could imagine was exactly what female wanking entailed and he'd so have to get Mercedes to show him one day. She glanced over at him, feeling the power of his eyes, and smiled a shy hello. His was more confident and he mouthed "I love you" to her.
The first bell rang and people began to scatter. Tina, in her excitement, forgot about Mercedes' gingered pace and started to yank on her, causing Mercedes to moan.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Tina asked.
"I can't move that fast right now," Mercedes mumbled, shuffling along toward their first-period class.
"Because you slipped?"
Santana frowned. "No, the gait's off for a slip. You only get a jacked-up walk like that from-"
The girls gasped and immediately swung their eyes to Sam.
"Dude!" Mike exclaimed, clapping Sam's shoulder.
"MERCEDES!" Tina squealed and wrapped her friend in a hug, making Mercedes laugh. "Oh, sweetie!"
Santana and Quinn, approached him, their eyes demanding explanations.
"Couldn't go easy on her, could you?" Santana accused.
"You know it was her first time, Sam! You should've been more considerate!" Quinn added.
"I went as easy as I could!" Sam said, ignoring Mike's muffled guffaws over the fact his two ex-girlfriends are lecturing him about loving on his currentgirlfriend. Only in his life could such a bizarre conversation happen.
Santana paused and lifted an eyebrow. "Well, that's true. Who knew a hillbilly like you would be hung like Mr. Ed-?"
"Santana!" Quinn and Sam exclaimed. Mike fell against the lockers, now crying from his laughter.
"Well, I'm just sayin'-even I was walking a little crooked after me and Sam-"
"Santana, please," Sam begged, glad the second bell rang. They had seven minutes to get to class on time; but his and Mike's wasn't even a minute up the hallway while Quinn's, Mercedes', Tina's, and Santana's was right across the hall. He glanced at Mercedes and Tina again, seeing his lady's shoulders hiccup in Tina's embrace.
Sam knew instinctively she wasn't laughing anymore and he started forward. "Why's she' cryin'?" Sam asked, distressed. Mike perked up as well because Tina had tears in her eyes also. "Mercedes!" Sam asked, panic lacing his voice.
She pulled away from Tina and wiped her cheeks, the other girl helping her. "I'm all right."
"You're cryin'!" Sam replied, taking Mercedes' face in his hands to finish the task himself. "Do you hurt that badly?"
"I don't hurt at all," she said, her voice taking a dreamlike quality. "Just…everything hit me finally, that's all."
"What everything?"
"That I'm not an eighty-year-old virgin playing auntie to everybody else's kids."
He laughed and kissed her forehead. "No, you're not, and if I have my way-"
"Gotta go!" Mike said, tugging him along by his sleeve. The girls were leading Mercedes to class also and Sam threw her a wink before rushing down the hall and scooting into class just before the bell rang. Mike looked at him knowingly and smirked; Sam just shrugged.
"Saved by the bell?" Mike asked.
"Nah, I was fully prepared to say what I was gonna say."
Mike's eyebrows rose. "Are you gonna say it the next time you see her?"
Sam shook his head, opening his Economics textbook and turning to the front of the class. "But when the next right time comes along, you bet your bippy I will!"
Author: bana05
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Mercedes/Sam, glee club
Word Count: 3855
Spoilers: All of Glee thus far.
Disclaimer: Glee ain’t mine, unfortunately; otherwise, Mercedes would have a harem.
Summary: Sam realizes there's a difference when love's involved.
Author’s notes: Twenty Seven of the "Then Came You" series. Rating for naughty words and deeds. Please forgive errors and enjoy!
~~~~~
The room smelled like love, and it made Sam smile.
He hadn't opened his eyes yet, merely breathed in deeply through his nose when the scent registered in his brain, but he'd recognized how different this smell was than it'd ever been in his life. Intellectually, he knew no smell could be the same with different experiences, but none of them had brought such an automatic smile to his face as this one had.
Sam's first time had been in Memphis, the summer before he'd moved to Lima, actually, with the cute visiting cousin of one of his down-the-street neighbors. She'd been vastly experienced, at least to his mind, and had taught him well. She'd been the queen of quickies those two weeks before he'd moved, though; so while the pleasure was fast in coming, disappointment would settle in even faster after it was all over.
She'd never stuck around long enough afterwards for him to catalog their smell.
Quinn had been his next experience, though that had been more heavy petting than anything else. They'd only gone all the way twice, the first time right after Kurt's and Finn's parents' wedding and she was on a post-nuptial high; and the second after his Justin Beiber performance and, looking back on it, a desperate attempt to reassure herself she'd not been interested in Finn at all. Sam had always let her determine how far they'd go because he'd respected what she'd gone through being pregnant. He'd been grateful for every little nugget she'd given him, and had shaken so badly their first time she'd been the one to take the reins. Actually, she had both times-all but attacking him after that glee club performance with the rest of the boys (save Finn) as soon as he'd reached her house after school.
They'd smelled like desperate affection he'd realized weeks later; at the time though, he'd thought it was more.
Santana had been the best Sam had ever had, and also the worst. Despite her inconsideration outside of the bedroom; inside, she was assured and actually quite giving, although that generosity was from a selfish source rather than an altruistic one. She had a rep to maintain in her and one to cultivate in him; the last thing she needed or wanted was a boyfriend of hers to not be satisfied in bed. The problem, however, was she'd rarely let him return the favor. Even in his lovemaking, and probably especially there, he lived by the adage it was better to give than to receive. Santana had never let him give her an orgasm, although he'd come close three times. She' d shove him off her and finish it herself, thus denying him the credit.
They'd smelled like resentment, and it was the scent he missed the least.
"Sam?"
He looked down at the woman he held in his arms, the soft blinks and the hazy eyes trying to focus on his face. He smiled a little wider and kissed her forehead, pulling her closer to him.
"Good morning, love," he rumbled.
She ducked her head adorably and brushed her nose against his nipple. Sam chuckled and took another deep breath of their mingled scents still lingering in the air.
"I ache everywhere," Mercedes moaned. "And I'm hoarse."
"That's what bein' well-loved feels like, lady," Sam said in a John Wayne impersonation.
"Are you sore?" she asked.
He lazily closed his eyes. "No…"
"Does that mean I didn't love you well?"
His eyes popped open. "Mercedes?" She hid her face even more in his chest and he tilted her chin up so he could look into her eyes. There was concern and a little contrition there, and he shook his head, kissing first one eye and then the other.
"You love me perfectly, all the time," Sam promised.
She pulled an incredulous face but didn't dispute him, and he smiled and kissed her nose in reward. Now her face scrunched up adorably and Sam laughed, cupping her cheek in his palm. For a moment, he just gazed at her and she let him, only averting her eyes once or twice under his scrutiny.
"Are we goin' to church today?"
She blinked. "You want to?"
"I brought something this time…"
A slow smile brightened her face. "Really, Sam?"
"Yeah, I love your church, Mercedes…" He'd been thinking of just joining outright, but he didn't want to leave Quinn by herself. Things were still rocky between her mother; and even after almost two years, she was still dealing with whispers from the congregation. Maybe they both should officially switch flocks-
Mercedes' kiss knocked all thoughts of churches from his head and he gathered her closer, her soft breasts pressing against his hard chest. Sam moaned, slipping his tongue inside her mouth, and his hardening cock brushed against her inner thigh. It wanted in, and it wanted in now.
"Are you too sore for a quickie?" he asked against her lips.
She shifted her hips so the crisp hairs of her nether lips dragged against the head of his penis. He almost came then and there.
"I'm too greedy for a quickie, Sam," she murmured, tugging on his upper lip with her teeth. "And I cannot go into my church after doing…that!"
Sam snickered. "I bet your parents do!"
"My parents can because they're married," Mercedes reminded him.
Sam scooted down the bed until their faces were level. He drifted a finger along the bridge of her nose and she closed her eyes at the contact. "That's something to look forward to, then," he ultimately said in a quiet voice.
"Sex before church?" Mercedes asked on a snort.
Sam kissed her tenderly. "Making love to my wife before I go thank the Lord for blessing me with her."
Mercedes palmed his cheek and smiled, her eyes still closed. "Yeah, still here. One day I'll have to wake up from this dream, though, and I'm dreadin' the hell out of that!"
He huffed a laugh through his nose and kissed her again, this time adding tongue to make sure she realized this was, in fact, real and much better than any dream he could conjure.
Church was more electric than Sam had ever seen it, the pastor using Martin Luther King, Jr.'s "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" as the basis of his message. Sam had never heard of the letter before, but Mercedes apparently had, even quoting some lines from the letter along with the reverend. Sam was amazed by how something written almost fifty years ago could be so incredibly relevant today, just going by his personal experiences with Mercedes alone. He'd known cursory details about all of the liberation movements in the Middle East and North Africa from last year because the network news always got the best reception in the motel room. But the other things like the London Riots last summer and even, apparently, an incident in Mississippi where a black man was run over simply for being black could still happen.
Sam, who'd already been holding Mercedes' hand throughout the service, held it a little tighter after that.
When church ended, Sam gripped Mercedes' hand and fought his way to the pulpit, having to stop to say hello to members who knew Mercedes and were starting to get to know him. Several of the elders nudged Mercedes' shoulder with their elbows and declared Sam adorable, causing them both to blush and Mercedes to give a giggling thank you. They finally made it to the front, and the reverend's eyes brightened at the sight of them.
"Children, well, not so much now, I suppose. You all right, Mercedes?"
"Yes, Reverend Albright, but I think Sam wants to talk to you?"
Sam glanced uncertainly at his girlfriend before facing the reverend. "How do I go about joining your church?"
Mercedes gasped and the reverend's eyebrows rose. "You sure?"
Sam nodded. "Every time I come, I enjoy myself and learn something, and everyone's been real nice. And this is my lady's church so…"
"Your lady?"
Sam bristled slightly but stood straighter. "Mercedes is a lady and she is mine."
Mercedes inhaled sharply and squeezed his hand hard. "Sam!"
"Son, that was a mighty declarative statement."
Sam tilted up his chin. He could get far more declarative than that, but he figured Mercedes would kill him and ask God for forgiveness later so he kept his mouth shut.
"Son, you don't have to join the church just to talk to me if you need to talk-not that I want to turn down membership, but…you're unique."
"I'm white," Sam said baldly.
Reverend Albright nodded. "Yes, and I know you're with Mercedes, here, but I don't want angry parents descending upon this church because I did something without their permission."
Mercedes came to the Evanses' defense. "Sam's parents aren't like that!"
Reverend Albright turned a little sad. "Parents aren't a whole lot of things until their children stumble upon those hidden 'Do Not Cross' signs…seen it happen to many times to not protect myself and this church from it."
Sam's shoulders slumped and he clenched his jaw. "It ain't right!"
"No, it's not," Reverend Albright agreed, then granted them a small smile. "But the way you treat Miss Jones here is-don't think I don't see you in the congregation-"
"Kinda hard to miss," Sam muttered, and he smiled when Mercedes hid her laugh in his upper arm.
Reverend Albright chuckled a little. "Yeah, but…you call Mercedes here a lady and rightfully so; so for me, that makes you a man-a gentleman-and that's all right in my book. And God's, if I may be so bold."
They stayed only a few moments more, Reverend Albright using a compliment to Mercedes' haircut to ask after Miss Renée in a way that made Mercedes smile coyly and tell him she'd be back from New York sometime tomorrow afternoon.
"Just curious," Reverend Albright said, coughing slightly. "Missed her fabulous hat today…"
They stopped by a KFC on the way to Mercedes' home and got into an argument at the window for a good three minutes before a honk from the minivan behind them and the window attendant huffing for the fourth time ultimately declared Mercedes the winner of paying for the food. Tense silence was the unexpected third party of their late lunch/early dinner, and Mercedes went to change immediately after she finished eating and clearing her spot.
Sam loosened his tie and pulled his shirttails out of his trousers to get comfortable on the couch. ESPN provided background noise to his suddenly surly mood and he scowled at his phone while texting Mike to let him know the house was still standing hopefully and ignoring Puck's, Kurt's, and Finn's texts asking for what happened between him and Mercedes last night. His lady returned ten minutes later looking positively scrumptious in a thin, tight long-sleeved T-shirt that couldn't hide her black sports bra and thin pajama pants.
"Are you leaving today or tomorrow?"
Sam blinked slowly at her. "You want me to leave?" Truth be told, this wasn't exactly the way he thought the day after their first time would go.
Mercedes glared at the television. "You seem pissed, especially after talking to Reverend Albright, which had been your idea-"
"Just find it curious that after a sermon based off of Martin Luther King, Jr., he won't let me join his church," Sam muttered with a shrug.
She pinned far-too-revealing eyes upon him. "That it, Sam?"
He looked away from her and sighed, shook his head, then grabbed her hand and tugged her closer. She planted her feet once her knees bumped his so Sam sat forward and kissed her belly.
"Stay grounded, Sam," she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair.
"I'd rather fly with you," he murmured against her navel. He loved her stomach. It was soft and fleshy and woman even though she was just seventeen and not quite there yet. He was just seventeen, and Sam belatedly realized that was the point Reverend Albright was trying to make.
He'd also sussed out the "church" Sam wanted to join had little to do with the brick-and-mortar building in which they'd been standing.
"Why didn't you want me to pay earlier?" she asked, not acknowledging his last comment. "I thought we'd resolved that issue."
"I'm the man. The gentleman," Sam explained, resting his cheek on her stomach and closing his eyes. The under-curve of her breasts brushed against his forehead and temple with each breath she made. "It's my job."
"Sam-"
"I'm Southern, Mercedes; that's how I was raised," Sam said, pulling back and bringing her with him. She didn't resist this time and straddled him, discomfort flitting across her face for a moment. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah…"
He blinked, then he grinned, earning a slap on the shoulder. "Sorry-"
"No, you're not!" Mercedes challenged but chuckled anyway though she tried to scoot back.
"Where you goin'?" he asked low.
"Um…"
"If it don't hurt too bad, stay…you feel good on…"
"I feel good on?"
"Yeah," Sam said, his hand immediately going to her hair to feel the softness of her curls. Mercedes closed her eyes to relish in his touch, and never before had he known he could make a girl "relish" anything.
"On me, around me," Sam murmured, sliding his hand down from her hair, across her shoulder, collarbone, and breast to settle upon her hip before sliding between her thighs. There was another football playoff game queuing up, but Sam had no interest watching that and every interest watching Mercedes as he filled her from the inside.
"Still can't figure out how Santana said you have no game," she mumbled, moving her hips in time to his fingers.
"Because I really don't have game," Sam agreed, kissing her jaw. "Just truth, love, and you. Reckon that's all I need, actually."
Mercedes didn't want to watch the game, either, and led him by the shirttails back to her room. She undressed him as he sat perched on the edge of her bed and loved his cock with her mouth before letting him sheath himself with a condom so she could love his cock with her pussy. Discomfort wisped across her face again when he'd entered her, but used his lips on her neck to distract her from it and even replace it with pleasure.
"Like this?" Mercedes asked breathlessly when she realized he was inside her as she straddled him.
"Yes. I love holding you like this," Sam said, pulling her shirt and bra off with less finesse than he'd liked but it got the job done. Her breasts bounced against her torso and he lifted them to his face. Mercedes laughed and he smiled, kissing both areolas before reaching her lips again. He thrust into her lazily, his body absorbing every shudder hers made, and the way her body moved had him biting his lip to muffle his moans. She was the slickest, creamiest vice around his dick and he never wanted to leave her.
He started to lean back and she began to follow, but he kept his arms locked so she snaked above him.
"Fuck, yes, Kurt's right-you're a goddess," Sam muttered, cupping her large breasts in his hands while licking his lips. Mercedes palmed his hands over her chest and scrunched her eyes tightly, moving harder and faster above him. He didn't care her rhythm wasn't smooth or sometimes she ground against him so hard he lost his breath. She was the best, she was love, and she was his.
"Sam-"
Her grunt and whimper cut off whatever she wanted to say, and the way she fluttered around his cock told him she was close. Sam pulled her to his chest and flipped them over, looming above her as he thrust hard and deep inside of her.
"Come all over me, Mercy," he urged, kneading her breasts as he gyrated his hips into hers. Mercedes groaned, her brown eyes wild as she stared at him. Suddenly she grinned, and Sam could do nothing but taste that grin with his mouth. After that, all he could hear was their heavy breathing, the headboard knocking against her wall, and his shouted name as she reached her climax. Sam groaned Mercedes' name into her neck and inhaled.
Love. All over. He felt himself getting high again.
"Are you…sniffing me?"
"Yes," he muttered into her skin, then licked the salty taste of it. Delicious.
"Do most guys do that after sex?"
"I have no idea because I've never had sex with a guy."
Mercedes burst out laughing before reining it back in. "Oh, goodness; I think Kurt would be severely disappointed by that last year!"
He pulled his head from her neck and raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Massive crush on you, he had," Mercedes revealed, brushing some of his fringe from his forehead. "I mean, I got it on a purely aesthetic level but you didn't impress me much then."
Sam grinned and kissed her lips lightly. "I thought you were sexy with your New York shirt on that first day. Puck kept checkin' out your ass too."
Mercedes snorted. "Kinda big."
"And soft," Sam added, palming her butt cheeks in his hands. "One of my favorite parts of you."
"What are the other ones?" she asked and began clenching around his cock again.
"Your lips," he said against them as he started to thrust once more. "Both sets…"
By the time Sam returned to the Chang house the next day, over half of Mercedes' brother's box of condoms was now in her wastebasket. Mercedes had sent him home with a tin full of cookies and hickeys on his neck and other places clothes normally covered. He was sore, too, a revelation that had made Mercedes beam adorably, and he'd missed her just as soon as he'd crossed the threshold of her house toward his truck.
He was knocked out when the Changs arrived home and would've stayed asleep had Mike not awakened him that Tuesday morning for school.
"Feelin' all right, man?" Mike asked, frowning.
Sam gave him a half-smile and nodded, knowing he was too close to blurting out what had happening yet know this was neither the time nor the place with fifteen minutes to get to school. Luckily, he was pretty quiet in the mornings, but Mike wasn't an idiot, either; he knew something major had gone down with his friend.
It took Sam a moment to spot Mercedes in the hallways, and she was walking kind of slow. It wasn't icy on the steps this morning at school, but that didn't mean she didn't wipeout in her driveway. He was just about to go see if she were okay when Tina, Santana, and Quinn approached.
"I know that walk," Tina said on a laugh. "I slipped on some ice going toward our cabin in the Poconos!"
Mike snickered into his locker and Sam elbowed him, biting his lip so he wouldn't laugh as well.
"I'm sorry; that was hilarious. I just wish I'd gotten it on camera!"
The girls looked to them and Tina glared. "If you'd gotten that on camera, Michael Chang, you'd become well acquainted with your hand for the next few weeks!"
"Wanky," Santana said, quirking an eyebrow, and Quinn and Mercedes giggled, touching foreheads together.
"Tina, that type of punishment to me is a punishment to you too," Mike reminded his girlfriend. The answering smirk she gave had Mike's face falling very flat. "Wait, what?"
"Wanky!" the other three girls exclaimed and laughed, slapping each other's hands.
Sam knew his face was blazing, but now all he could imagine was exactly what female wanking entailed and he'd so have to get Mercedes to show him one day. She glanced over at him, feeling the power of his eyes, and smiled a shy hello. His was more confident and he mouthed "I love you" to her.
The first bell rang and people began to scatter. Tina, in her excitement, forgot about Mercedes' gingered pace and started to yank on her, causing Mercedes to moan.
"Are you sure you're okay?" Tina asked.
"I can't move that fast right now," Mercedes mumbled, shuffling along toward their first-period class.
"Because you slipped?"
Santana frowned. "No, the gait's off for a slip. You only get a jacked-up walk like that from-"
The girls gasped and immediately swung their eyes to Sam.
"Dude!" Mike exclaimed, clapping Sam's shoulder.
"MERCEDES!" Tina squealed and wrapped her friend in a hug, making Mercedes laugh. "Oh, sweetie!"
Santana and Quinn, approached him, their eyes demanding explanations.
"Couldn't go easy on her, could you?" Santana accused.
"You know it was her first time, Sam! You should've been more considerate!" Quinn added.
"I went as easy as I could!" Sam said, ignoring Mike's muffled guffaws over the fact his two ex-girlfriends are lecturing him about loving on his currentgirlfriend. Only in his life could such a bizarre conversation happen.
Santana paused and lifted an eyebrow. "Well, that's true. Who knew a hillbilly like you would be hung like Mr. Ed-?"
"Santana!" Quinn and Sam exclaimed. Mike fell against the lockers, now crying from his laughter.
"Well, I'm just sayin'-even I was walking a little crooked after me and Sam-"
"Santana, please," Sam begged, glad the second bell rang. They had seven minutes to get to class on time; but his and Mike's wasn't even a minute up the hallway while Quinn's, Mercedes', Tina's, and Santana's was right across the hall. He glanced at Mercedes and Tina again, seeing his lady's shoulders hiccup in Tina's embrace.
Sam knew instinctively she wasn't laughing anymore and he started forward. "Why's she' cryin'?" Sam asked, distressed. Mike perked up as well because Tina had tears in her eyes also. "Mercedes!" Sam asked, panic lacing his voice.
She pulled away from Tina and wiped her cheeks, the other girl helping her. "I'm all right."
"You're cryin'!" Sam replied, taking Mercedes' face in his hands to finish the task himself. "Do you hurt that badly?"
"I don't hurt at all," she said, her voice taking a dreamlike quality. "Just…everything hit me finally, that's all."
"What everything?"
"That I'm not an eighty-year-old virgin playing auntie to everybody else's kids."
He laughed and kissed her forehead. "No, you're not, and if I have my way-"
"Gotta go!" Mike said, tugging him along by his sleeve. The girls were leading Mercedes to class also and Sam threw her a wink before rushing down the hall and scooting into class just before the bell rang. Mike looked at him knowingly and smirked; Sam just shrugged.
"Saved by the bell?" Mike asked.
"Nah, I was fully prepared to say what I was gonna say."
Mike's eyebrows rose. "Are you gonna say it the next time you see her?"
Sam shook his head, opening his Economics textbook and turning to the front of the class. "But when the next right time comes along, you bet your bippy I will!"