Work Text:
Submitted as evidence in the Court of Codependency, Sam’s phone would be incriminating. Concrete proof of obsession.
First, due to the sheer number of messages. More messages by far, and more frequent than any of his other text threads. Jacob’s name is always at the top of the list.
Then there’s the distinct vibration pattern. Sam can’t be blamed for that one as Jacob had set it up himself. The way Sam feels his face slip into a smile every time he feels the telltale buzz-buzzbuzz-buzz is damning — but this is about the phone, not his hopeless lack of a poker face.
Last, there are the pictures. Between memes and song links and bitching sessions and existential musings and inside jokes and heart emojis are a fuckton of images.
Sam goes through periodically to save them to his “Images of Jacob” folder, which takes up an embarrassing amount of storage on his phone. The folder is a guaranteed mood booster though, and Jacob is well aware of its’ existence. When he’d stumbled across it, Jacob had made fun of Sam for about five minutes until Sam confessed that they were his emotional support photos, which had promptly melted Jacob into a sappy hugging machine for the rest of the day.
So a net positive, really, the folder.
Sam has been getting a lot of use out of his emotional support Images of Jacob lately. Too much time apart and too much time alone — a recipe for disaster. Solo press, the pressurized capsule of the recording studio and way, way too much hearing his own voice and not much else.
Sam taps on a blurry selfie of Jacob, smiling, half-out-of-frame with a crown of dandelions perched atop his curls. He smiles back at his phone.
Works like a charm, every time.
As he stares at Jacob’s cute, fuzzy face, that special vibration kicks on and Jacob’s name flashes at the top of the screen. It’s like a candy crush burst of serotonin and Sam actually has to stand up and pace about it.
Jacob, mind reading creature that he is, has sent a selfie.
It’s cute — of course it is — at first glance. Jacob, on his green sofa in the natural light of his living room, smiling with his eyes. It only takes Sam a second to notice the white henley with all the buttons undone, just a hint of chest hair peeking through. Then he clocks the downward angle to the camera, and Jacob’s mouth is slightly open, actually, and wow. Its flirty is what it is, and sure, Jacob is sort of chronically flirty, but something about this picture feels a little more serious, kicks up a flock of butterflies in his stomach.
Shit, he’s been sitting here staring for longer than their typical 45-second reply window. He quickly types in five hearteyes emojis and hits send.
Jacob sends one giant wink emoji. Cheeky bastard.
It’s an unspoken rule between them that a photo is reciprocated with a photo, so Sam scoots over to stand by the big lamp, twisting until the orange light hits his face just so, creating a halo around the slight frizz of his pulled-back hair. He gives a little smile but keeps it soft. Not as flirty, maybe, but still a touch more serious than usual. He doesn’t bother previewing the live photo, just presses send.
Jacob heart-reacts immediately and follows up with:
Sammyyyyy such a golden god, damn 🔥
Sam mirrors him with the giant wink emoji. His phone is silent for a minute, and he takes the time to save the new photo to his Jacob folder.
Buzz-buzzbuzz-buzz
“Oh,” Sam gasps, out loud in the empty room.
Jacob is shirtless.
Jacob is shirtless somehow, still on his sofa, now with one bare arm propped behind his head, mouth crooked in a grin, one eye scrunched shut in a wink. It’s cropped low enough to see the entirety of his pretty chest, soft little curls, smooth skin and dark nipples, Jesus fuck. What.
Sam sits down on his sofa so hard that he bounces.
Flirting between the two of them? Sure. Daily, hourly even. Compliments? Often: sarcastic or sincere, forceful or soft, every flavor imaginable. But nothing this — and it’s absurd to call it this really, a little bit of bare torso and a wink — explicit. Sam could count on one hand the sexy selfies he’s ever taken, much less sent to a partner, let alone a friend. (A coworker, even, though calling Jacob a coworker feels like calling his dog a roommate: technically true but woefully inadequate.)
Does Jacob do this? Does Jacob send flirty shirtless selfies to his other friends? Does he send them to his wife? And more importantly what does Jacob want him to do with this? Jacob was wearing a shirt, just two minutes ago. Jacob took the shirt off, on purpose, just to take another picture. To send to Sam.
Sam gives himself 45 seconds to think of a better idea and when he can’t, he simply asks:
Do you send sexy selfies to all your friends?
He clutches his phone until his knuckles turn white, until Jacob’s name pops back up:
Only the ones I know will appreciate it lol
Sam rolls his eyes as if the phone can see him.
Okay, so all of them
😘😘😘
Sam texts back exactly what he’s thinking, which is:
You little minx
Jacob comes back with a dare.
Out-minx me then
Is Jacob really asking him for a topless selfie? Did he wake up in an alternate timeline? Seems like the sort of thing that could happen in LA.
Sam fiddles with the hem of his sweatshirt but can’t quite make himself do it. Instead, he works up a smoldering look, bites his bottom lip, and gives the camera a wink that he hopes is captured by the live. It’s sillier, by far, than Jacob’s. It’s good enough.
Aww 🥺 not gonna take it off for me?
“What the fuck, Jacob…” Sam mutters out loud.
Are u serious???
Don’t leave me hanging 🥺
And he’s not really in a state to deny Jacob anything — not ever, but especially not now — with that photo looming over him, Jacob’s warm winking eyes on him speeding up his pulse. Fuck it. He pulls off his sweatshirt and looks around.
On the couch, lying down maybe. He takes the tie out of his hair and lets it spiral out behind him, shimmying his shoulders and schooling his face into something that doesn’t look five seconds removed from a horny anxiety attack. Holds his arm all the way out and angles the phone so the camera can see almost all of his torso, down to his bellybutton. Jacob wants it, Jacob gets it.
It looks like a Grindr profile pic. It’s pretty hot. Sam presses send before he can talk himself out of it.
He only has to wait a few moments before he gets three texts in quick succession:
Oh my god
Sam
Holy fuck
A shiver rushes over Sam and he sits up to tug his sweatshirt back on. Has he fucked it up somehow? Nothing about this night feels concrete. Before he can conjure a response, his phone vibrates again.
Jacob, still topless, still reclined. The angle is different. This time only Jacob’s mouth is in frame, the camera pointed down. His chest, his soft furry belly, and one of his elegant hands splayed out low, fingertips dipping below his waistband. What the fuck. Sam’s hands shake as he types:
Jacob…
His phone buzzes again.
Your turn
Sam’s dick twitches in his pants.
This is the most confused he has ever been in his entire life, and there’s one primary person he reaches for to talk through confusion, so after a few box breaths he presses the call button.
“Sam,” Jacob’s soothing voice greets him in a fraction of a second.
“Jake.” Sam only sounds a little bit fucked up. “What are we doing?”
“We’re meant to match, pic for pic,” Jacob explains. “That’s the game.”
“I know the game,” Sam insists. “The pic-for-pic-exchange is not supposed to be a sexy game!”
“What, you’re saying I’m not sexy all the time?” Jacob teases.
“You know you are. It’s just not… the usual. For us,” Sam finishes, unsure.
“Our usual isn’t exactly ‘the usual’ though, is it?” Jacob asks in a softer tone.
“You know what I mean, Jake!”
“I’m just saying, I don’t usually know the taste of my friends’ mouths so thoroughly,” he chuckles, and Sam grins despite himself. “And we both know damn well not all of those snogging sessions were for Louis and Lestat’s sake.”
“You know what I mean, Jake,” Sam presses, even though Jacob is correct. It was so easy to get caught up in each other, late mornings and early nights, and they did find themselves stealing a comforting kiss or three on occasion — because they could, because it felt nice. They always kept it simple, though. Lazy kisses, light hands roaming within well-trod boundaries.
“I know what you mean. I’ll be serious, I’m sorry.” Jacob’s voice is muffled for a second, and Sam pictures him dragging a hand down his face. “Honest, I don’t know what I was thinking. Can I put you on video?”
“’Course.”
Jacob is still shirtless.
And it’s absurd — he’s seen Jacob in various states of undress on hundreds of occasions — but Sam’s face goes beet-fucking-red in the corner of the call. Jacob looks down at his own bare chest as if noticing it for the first time.
“Oops! I forgot! Sorry, one sec.” The camera shakes around and when it steadies, Jacob has a fuzzy baby blue throw draped over his shoulders like a cape. Incredibly fucking cute, and only slightly less distracting. “There, I’m decent.”
Sam sees his own smitten smile on the screen. All those years of training and he couldn’t control his expressions around this man if his life depended on it.
Jacob gives him a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, it’s fine. I was just confused, I couldn’t tell if you were joking, and then it seemed like you really weren’t joking and I just. Freaked out a little.” Sam’s thumb strokes over the screen, imagining the texture of faux-fur.
“Fuck, Sam, I dunno, I just missed you. I wanted to see you. And I admit I wanted to push your buttons a little, sue me,” he smiles ruefully at the camera. “Guess I was feeling a kind of reckless.”
“Well, congrats. Buttons thoroughly pushed. But, like, you can’t just start sexting people out of the blue! Jesus Christ, Jacob.”
A laugh rises in Sam’s throat, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting him as he says the word “sexting” out loud. His giggle triggers one from Jacob, and they dissolve into laughter for a good few minutes until Sam’s eyes are streaming and he can’t see the screen anymore. His ribs hurt. He gasps in a breath, wipes at his tears.
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry for sexting you out of the blue,” Jacob concedes, breathless and flushed. “We could pretend it never happened?”
A note of vulnerability rings clear through the center of Jacob’s voice. He was serious. He did mean it. Fuck, Sam’s heart is pounding now and his upper lip has gone tingly. He clutches at his phone like a guardrail.
“I don’t want to pretend,” he chokes out.
The edges of Jacob’s pixels seem to soften. “Sam. I don’t want to pretend either. About anything.”
“I mean…”
“Okay, yes, other than the obvious.” Jacob’s smile grows. “I hate you.”
“Love you too.”
Jacob’s smile caramelizes. “Love you too.”
“Jacob…”
“I know. I know, I just… I want this to be easy. It just feels easy.”
It’s such a casually loaded statement that it knocks Sam’s breath out of him.
It does feel easy. It has always felt easy, too easy, toeing a dozen lines and feeling like the natural progression is to step right over them. Easiest thing in the world, to get swept away in the crosscurrent of intimate friendship and sexual tension.
Easy to forget the things that might make it difficult.
“Jacob… I just… I just didn’t know this was an option, for you. I’m kind of spiraling here,” he confesses, dancing around it, waiting for Jacob to say it plain.
Sam watches Jacob close his eyes and take a deep breath. Aching to be in the same room, to not have this conversation via fucking facetime. Heart rabbiting around in his hopeful chest.
“Okay.” Jacob pins him with a tender, serious gaze. “I didn’t think this through, to be fair, but it’s not a new feeling. I just really miss you, Sam, I really do and I want – I want to touch you. And I guess it’s just gotten harder to think of reasons why we shouldn’t go there. Like, we’ve already crossed so many lines and every time we do I — I just want more.”
Sam sucks in a sharp breath. There it is. This is really happening.
“Sam, tell me I’m not alone, please just… Tell me what you’re feeling?” Jacob pleads, phone close to his face, dark eyes wide and imploring.
“Fuck… I’m feeling like I need to cross an ocean right now,” he blurts out, entirely honest, entirely overwhelmed.
Jacob’s face crumples a little and he makes a wounded sound and fuck this is torture, he needs to wrap his arms around his friend more than he’s ever needed anything in his life. But he can’t, so he soldiers on.
“I feel the same, fuck, of course I want more, Christ, Jake.” He runs his hand through his hair. His face is burning up. “I think it’s safe to say I probably want everything you want, and then some.”
“Oh thank fuck, I was pretty sure, but you had me nervous for a sec there,” Jacob admits.
“I’m sorry, but to be fair you sent me into shock with those photos,” Sam chuckles. His body feels lighter, lungs like helium balloons.
Jacob squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head at himself. “That was such a bad idea, oh my god, what was I thinking?”
“Pretty questionable judgement,” Sam teases, then sobers. “But I’m glad you did it. I’m glad to know… I’m glad we know.”
“I’m glad we know too,” Jacob says. They smile at each other for a long, quiet moment. Sam conjures up Jacob’s scent in his memory, the warmth of his body. Projects himself onto Jacob’s couch, a continent removed.
“So, what now?” Sam finally dares to ask.
Jacob blinks at him through the screen. “Dunno, guess that’s up to us, right? Penny for your thoughts?”
Complicated fucking question, that.
“I guess… I guess we just go with the flow? I think I can suspend my anxiety if we agree that we’ll say something if a line gets crossed in a bad way? And if we just talk to each other, I guess, is the main thing.”
God, Jacob’s face is sweet. Sam wants so badly to gather it up in his hands.
“’Course, I promise. Sorry for not talking about it first.”
“Stop apologizing! It’s good, this is all good.” Sam tries to put everything he’s feeling into his face so Jacob can know it’s real. “Fuck, Jacob, I really wish you were here right now.”
Jacob’s eyebrows tilt in sympathy. “I know, me too. God, what’s wrong with me? I could’ve waited until we saw each other. Shit, could’ve at least waited a few weeks – what’s a few weeks compared to two years?”
It’s an offhand comment but it strikes Sam right in the sternum.
“Two years?”
“Mmm,” Jacob hums, biting on his lower lip. “If I’m honest with myself. You felt it too, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, I felt it,” Sam confirms, blood pulsing in his ears. “Just didn’t know if you… I just didn’t know.”
“I didn’t really notice at first, to be fair,” Jacob says. “The way I feel about you has always been kinda intense but I didn’t let myself fantasize about anything for a long time.”
“Intense is a good word for it.”
What Sam doesn’t say is that fantasizing was hardly necessary, with the amount of touching and kissing they were allowed to do by default. Sam could have easily coasted five more years on that level of contact.
Instead, Sam says, “I’m really happy that you sexted me out of the blue.”
Jacob breaks into giggles, bright enough to light up the whole room.
“Aye-aye,” he salutes. “Happy to provide.”
Sam tries to stop it, but he can’t suppress his giant yawn, and Jacob’s face morphs into an expression of pure fondness.
“Shit Sammy, I’m sorry, what time is it?”
“Dunno, like one or two,” Sam shrugs, taking note of the weight of his eyelids. “Late.”
“You should go to bed.”
God, Jacob’s voice is like honey, or a lullaby. He wants to ask Jacob to stay on the line, to talk him to sleep. He doesn’t do that, though, just hums and blinks slow at his phone. Lets his eyes drift shut for a moment.
“Okay, well I didn’t mean right this second,” Jacob chuckles. “But that’s alright. I’m gonna hang up now, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Goodnight, love.”
Sam blinks awake to his own sleepy, smitten face on the screen. He musters enough energy to blow a lazy kiss.
“G’night Jake.”
“Sleep tight.”
He falls asleep without even jerking off.
—
The second he blinks into consciousness, Sam feels around for his phone. Yes, thank fuck, there it is, his every-morning wake-up text from Jacob:
Sweet dreams, Sammy. Don’t stress about anything, it’s just u and me 💕 text me when u wake up. Or sext me (blanket permission lol) 😘
What the fuck.
—
No matter how many times Sam checks, the previous 24 hours keep being real.
When he scrolls up in Jacob’s message thread he can prove it. Right there in broad daylight, in living pixels, Jacob’s hand following his happy trail into the front of his pants. Jacob’s bitten mouth, Jacob’s words of invitation. The memory of last night’s confession ricocheting off the pillars of resolve he’s built in his mind over the past few years. As open as they’d left it, as much permission as he’s been given, Sam does not know what in the fuck to do with it. As much as he wants, he isn’t quite sure how to change the way they’ve been interacting daily for years.
He’s texting Jacob like normal and thinking only of kissing him. He’s staring at Jacob’s bare chest and calling up the lingering memory of the taste of his sweat on his tongue. He’s — well, he’s staring at Jacob’s hand reaching beneath his waistband and he’s thinking about what it might feel like to replace that hand with his own.
And then there’s a thought that refuses to leave his mind: they were meant to match, pic-for-pic.
Sam calling Jacob instead of reciprocating has left them unbalanced and it’s silly, but Sam feels the imbalance and it tugs at him to continue where they left off. The dangling opportunity of it too much to resist.
He questions himself for a moment as he studies his reflection in the hotel mirror.
Feels like the point of no return. Sam finds that thought far more exciting than terrifying, so he opens up his phone camera and squares his posture. He lifts up the hem of his t-shirt, shakes his hair out and tilts his head, gets a good angle in the mirror. His shorts ride low, the cut of his hips starkly visible in the morning sunlight, highlighting the happy trail he hasn’t waxed off yet.
He snaps the photo and sends it before he can change his mind.
Jacob will be asleep for hours yet, so Sam can’t do anything but tuck his phone into his pocket and go about his day with anticipation bubbling in his stomach and his best friend on his mind. Sam has to give himself credit for being able to focus on work that day, commends his voice for remaining steady and his dick for staying mostly flaccid.
When it finally comes, the buzz-buzzbuzz-buzz shocks him like an eel: one message, then another and another.
Oh my god 💀
You win the game. Holy shit ur so fucking hot
Fuck meeee
Blood rushes hot to Sam’s face and his heart jumps. He replies:
Felt bad for disrupting the natural order of things 😘
Sam…. If I was alone rn I’d escalate this. Fuck u look so good
A vision of Jacob in the car, or maybe at the studio, opening Sam’s text and blushing, squirming in place, wanting to respond but unable to.
You’ll just have to send me one later, you know the rules
He expects a flirty text back, but doesn’t quite expect what Jacob does send, which is:
I rly want to kiss you 😭
Sam closes his eyes and allows himself to imagine in detail the last time he got to kiss Jacob.
Jacob tasted like cinnamon gum and smelled like sweat and hair product and he had wasted no time, diving in tongue-first, pressing all up along Sam’s front without shame. Over and over again they had done this dance until Sam’s dick was straining against the confines of its costume and Jacob’s mouth was 5 degrees hotter than it had been at the start of the scene.
He should’ve fucking kissed Jacob as they said goodbye last year, like he’d wanted to. Jacob had held onto him for a full minute at least, arms around his neck and nose buried in his hair, but for some reason Sam hadn’t kissed him, just squeezed him tight and then let him go.
I really want to kiss you too
Sam thinks for half a second before throwing coyness to the wind and asking what he’s dying to ask:
When will you be alone?
Thumping in his ears, racing pulse.
30 mins
Fuck… hurry up!!!
Don’t worry I’m motivated 😭
Sam has waited three and a half years, 30 minutes is nothing.
He stands up. Flutters around the suite like an anxious moth for 15, then makes himself a weak Moscow mule. Waits for Jacob’s vibration pattern to sound, and finally yes — there he is.
Ok I’m alone and I’m still half-hard omg
A laugh startles out of Sam, and he shakes his shoulders like he’s getting ready for a stunt before replying:
Pic for pic, please
As he waits for Jacob’s inevitable photo he settles into the couch cushions, tightens his bun, rubs some lotion into his dry hands. Leaves it there on the coffee table, just in case. Then the message comes.
Jacob, shirtless and glowing, laid out against a background of sage green bedsheets. Jacob, with his plump bottom lip caught between his teeth. Jacob, with the camera held in such a way that his hips and the tops of his thighs are visible, obscured only by a pair of black briefs. Jacob’s erection front and center, framed by one of his pretty hands, straining against the fabric.
Oh my god
Jacob
Fuck
Sam grinds his palm into his rapidly swelling dick over his pants, choking out a groan. This isn’t one of his secret fantasies, this is real. Jacob, hard for him, showing him. God. Jacob’s reply comes through like a shock to his system, a rush of blood to the groin.
You touching yourself for me? Fuck wish I could feel u
Yea I am, god wish I could feel you too. Let me show you
Fuck, this is so reckless — he’s really about to take a dick pic. He sends a brief prayer to whichever evil deity oversees technology and unbuttons his pants, shoves them down his thighs. Strokes himself slow once, twice over the fabric, until he’s straining at his waistband, the very tip of his erection peeking out. The inherent embarrassment of the act has him throbbing, burning up from the inside. He sends the picture.
Sammy fuuuuuck so hot
I’m so close already
Sam shimmies off his briefs and slicks up nis non-typing hand. He closes his eyes as he waits for Jacob, imagining the hand wrapped around his leaking cock is slightly smaller, softer, devotedly attentive. Imagines Jacob whispering those words into his ear, can almost feel the heat of his breath. Maybe he’d get to feel Jacob’s blunt teeth sink into his neck for real, bruise him up.
He loses track of the minutes, sucked into the whirlpool of pleasure. Then his phone buzzes, snatching him right from one fantasy into another.
Oh fuck.
It’s a video.
Jacob is naked. Phone propped up on the nightstand, granting Sam the privilege of witnessing his miles of pretty skin and soft muscle. He’s got his head turned towards the phone and his hand around his dick, stiff and straining upwards.
“Shit, Sammy wish you were here,” he pants, voice low and broken. “I’m so close — ah, fuck — want you in my bed, please touch me, please —”
Sam can see a wet shine on his dick, hand, lower belly as he throws his head back and arches his spine, levitating, and oh what Sam wouldn’t give to get his mouth back on that heaving chest. He conjures up Jacob’s smell in his memory, the taste of him, imagines blanketing his body and grinding against his beautiful cock, imagines them pressed together, skin-to-skin, head-to-toe.
Jacob speeds up his strokes, trails his other hand up his torso, teases one nipple then tweaks the other, a cascade of little groans and grunts falling from his parted lips. Even on the small screen he looks flushed, overheated.
A few more tense, endless moments and then Jacob’s graceful body is bending like a bow and he cries out as he tips over the edge, spills across his chest, and collapses into the mattress.
Sam follows him right over the edge with a twist of his wrist, right on cue.
Jacob-on-the-screen lolls his head back towards the camera, eyes half-lidded and a crooked, sated smile on his bitten lips. The video stops.
Holy fuck Jacob
Sorry couldn’t get it on video I came just from watching you
You’re so gorgeous
Sam attempts to catch his breath, stares at his spunk-covered hand and gets an idea. He presses record. He does not watch the video before he sends it, licking salty come off his lips and getting up on shaky legs to wash his hands.
Oh my god are u trying to get me going again what the fuck 😭😭😭
Sam giggles to himself. The emojis are back, must be a post-nut-clarity kind of thing.
Just trying to match your energy
That video????? Jake…. that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life… you’re lovely
He holds himself back — barely — from saying “thank you.”
Awwwwwww Sam 🥺
Right back at u tho holy fuuuuuuck
Sam stares at his keyboard, trying to conjure up words to describe the squishy swell of affection that’s taken him over, how to express the importance of the moment without making it more serious than it needs to be. Buzz-buzzbuzz-buzz.
It’s Jacob, sweaty and sated, eyes almost closed with a sappy smile taking over his whole face. One hand held up to the side with his fingers crossed in a cutesy heart. Sam texts back a hearteyes emojis, and replies with an equally sappy selfie making an aegyo heart with his hand and his cheek. Jacob shoots approximately 100 different heart emojis back at him.
Ok I really need a shower but I’ll call u after?
Think of me 😘
At this point you can assume that I will be at any given moment lol
Aww. Ur sweet Sammy
💕💕💕
—
It was incredibly difficult not to switch his Melbourne ticket for one to London.
Almost impossible, with Jacob looking at him, conflicted, through his screen and hesitating for a few long heartbeats before telling him he shouldn’t, that they both had things to take care of, that a month really wasn’t that long in the grand scheme. They could wait, couldn’t they? Sam wasn’t so sure.
Back at home he feels more grounded, less desperate, but his longing doesn’t wane a bit.
It’s hard to even keep up the constant stream of texts between the time difference, how busy Jacob is, and Sam attempting to take care of business before he leaves home again for half a year.
Sam is getting a whole lot of mileage out of his Images of Jacob folder these days, usually late at night, the soothing effect now spiced up considerably with the addition of the sexting-session photos. He’s taken to sneaking away at social functions just to hide out and scroll through the images — unfair, maybe, to his loved ones who are trying to soak up all the time together that they can, but he truly, honestly cannot help it.
It’s been about a week and their messages have been mostly innocent, almost entirely regular chatter and mundane pictures. Memes and complaining about work minutiae. A handful of selfies, all strictly PG-13. Jacob sends him photos from the studio, little snippets of songs, bits and pieces of his heart like it’s nothing. Sam keeps it like the trophy it is: the fact that he is one of the only people in the world allowed to hear the rough cuts of Jacob’s music.
He misses Jacob like a limb, an organ.
Out on his patio, watching the clouds, listening to Jacob’s voice carry him through his past couple days, Sam can pretend he’s right there instead of an ocean away.
“…you there? Sam? Did I lose you?”
Sam blinks out of his Jacob-voice-trance. “Sorry, no, sorry I’m here. Honestly I just zoned out. Your voice is so relaxing.”
“Wow, good to know you’re so focused on what I’m saying that you can totally tune out my words,” Jacob teases. “Way to make a guy feel special.”
Jacob’s tone is clearly lighthearted, but it still stabs a little in Sam’s gut to realize that he truly wasn’t listening.
“I’m so sorry, really, I was listening I promise ‘til just a second ago. Y’know I always wanna listen to you.”
“Love, I know, it’s fine,” Jacob giggles. “Kinda flattering. I should record some ASMR for you.”
“I can’t tell if you mean that in a dirty way or not,” Sam says, imagining what that could be and observing his body’s pathological reaction.
“Could do both. Clean and explicit version. RR3.5, the secret album. Audience of one.”
“I’d be honored, truly,” Sam laughs.
“Dunno what I’d put on the clean version… I’d take a cover request or two, for you. If phone books existed still I could read you that.”
Sam giggles, and Jacob joins in.
As their laughter fades, an aching fondness is all that’s left, spores settled throughout every inch of Sam’s body.
“Why are you so far away?”
Jacob sighs. “Rhetorical question?”
“Yeah.”
“I know. I ask myself, too.”
—
Did u know arctic terns migrate the farthest of any bird? Dunno what bird facts you know, I was just watching nature shows w the babies and they can travel like 96,000km in a year isn’t that CRAZY… that’s like 6x the distance from my place to yours rn 😭 anyway good morning xoxo 😘
—
“Y’know, I was thinking, maybe we shouldn’t fuck when we see each other again. Because, like what if it ruins the sexual tension? Maybe we should wait ‘til the end of the season.”
Sams mind runs blank.
“…Are you serious?” He chokes out instead of shouting “oh hell no” like he wants to.
Jacob is silent on the line for way too long and Sam starts to panic slightly. Then Jacob cackles, so loud he has to hold the speaker away from his face.
“Jacob Basil Anderson!”
“Don’t ‘Basil’ me,” Jacob crows.
“Don’t scare me like that! My god. I was just flashing forward to my terminal case of blue balls and having to delay filming for a lengthy stay in hospital.”
Jacob just laughs and laughs. In addition to all the other lovely qualities that Sam misses, craves, praises and covets, Jacob can also be an absolute little shit.
“You’re so dramatic Sammy. Everyone knows blue balls are a myth.”
“You’re aggravating, you know that?”
“Mhm. Shall we have some phone sex about it?” Jacob suggests merrily.
“Of course we should!”
“Alright Sebastian, calm down you’ve already got me on the line, literally.”
They break the bit simultaneously, bursting into laughter.
“Okay, how do you just, like, start having phone sex? Do I ask you what you’re wearing?”
Jacob giggles. “Sweats on sweats. Black socks. Uhm, my watch. No underwear?”
“Hot,” Sam concedes. “I’m afraid I’m just in a t-shirt and shorts. Not sexy ones either they’re like, too big and faded.”
“Hot,” Jacob teases. “Underwear? Hair up or down?”
“Yep. And up, of course.”
“Take your shorts off so we’re on a level?”
Sam kicks them off and perches on the edge of the bed. “Okay, they’re off. I’m already a little hard, for the record, which is absurd.”
“Aww, you want me that bad?” Jacob coos.
“Yeah, I really fucking do,” he answers, honest.
“Me too, baby, me too,” Jacob says, low, and fuck the pet name pumps him up so fast he feels it like a headrush. “I’m taking off my shirt, you got me all hot and bothered.”
“Good,” Sam says, a little breathless. “Me too, god, Jake…”
“Ugh, Sam, I want your hands on me, I’m feeling myself up but it’s not the same. I can remember what your big hands feel like on my skin.”
And Sam remembers too, vivid as if it happened yesterday, and skates his own palms over his chest, rubs at his nipples, imagining how Jacob’s pretty hands would look on him instead, how he would touch Sam with care and generosity.
“Fuck, Jacob, do you — are you — I want you to take your pants off, I want us to — ahh — touch ourselves at the same time.”
Jacob sends a long groan through the line, right into Sam’s bloodstream. “Fuck yeah, lemme just —”
There’s some shuffling and some static and Sam uses the opportunity to shimmy out of his briefs and shift up to lie on the bed properly. Jacob groans again, louder, and Sam circles the base of his dick and squeezes, a matching cry of his own that he hopes Jacob can hear.
“Yeah, yes Sammy that’s good, sound so pretty.”
The compliment pulls another noise up from the base of his chest and Jacob matches it.
“Tell me — tell me what you feel like,” Sam pants. “Tell me as if it was me touching you.”
“Fuck,” Jacob’s voice is rough, low. “My dick is so hard but the skin feels soft. Hot. Feels like I’m about to burst just from a minute of your hand around me. Shit.”
“God, Jacob…” he finally wraps his fist around his own cock, letting the relief shiver through him. “You feel so good, I wanna bring you off just like this, wanna see you come apart. I want you to — fuck — want you to come on me. Can’t wait to see what that looks like.”
“Shit Sammy you can’t just say that, I’m — fuck —”
And god Jacob’s voice is wrecked now, cracked and straining at the edges of the octave, and it’s a powerful feeling, being the cause of that. An orchestra of sounds that he’s never heard in Jacob’s real accent before.
“I’m speeding up now,” Sam decides, hearing Jacob’s breath hitch as he does the same. “Want you to feel how much I want you, want you to t — oh god — tell me what you want?”
“Wanna kiss you all over,” Jacob pants without a moment’s hesitation. “Taste you, bite on those cute pink little nipples.”
“Oh my god, Jacob —”
“Wanna get my mouth on your cock, make your voice crack like that. Bet you taste delicious there just like you do everywhere else. Fuck I’ll eat you out, I’ll eat you up, I don’t even care, I need you so bad.”
And isn’t that a fucking scene to imagine, Sam bent over with his face in the sheets maybe, Jacob spreading him out, licking him open. He’s on the edge already just from that image flashing behind his eyes.
“Please, please Jacob, fuck, please,” his voice is a cracking mess, cock leaking and pulsing in his fist.
“What do you need?” Jacob pants.
Sam scrambles for the lube he’s got stashed somewhere in his bedside drawer. He craves, he needs —
“Want you inside me,” Sam confesses, trailing his fingers back to press over his perineum, massaging from the outside, picturing Jacob between his legs, touching him, seeing him.
“God, Sam, you want that? You’d let me in?” Sweet, breathy awe colors his tone.
“Of course I would,” Sam pants, rubbing over his rim. “I can feel you pressing, you’re — ahh, fuck, there you are —”
His finger slips in easily and he groans at the relief of it, tries to separate his mind from the nerves in his fingertip so he can pretend it’s really Jacob, petting at him from the inside.
“Am I inside you now?” Jacob rumbles.
“Holy shit, Jake, you’re inside me, Jacob, yeah that’s nice,” he bears down on the digit, pulls back and pistons in again.
“Sam,” Jacob moans, cutting through to his core and Sam adds a little lube and goes back in with two. “Tell me how it feels.”
“Feels perfect, you know just where to touch, fuck feels like you’re reaching places I never knew about.”
Stroking over his prostate, not teasing himself anymore, Sam can almost feel Jacob’s weight against him, almost smell his sweat, absorb his body heat.
“God, f-fuck, I’m close, I’m so —” Jacob’s voice is fucked, cracking and skipping like a record. “Sam, please —"
He comes to the sound of his name on Jacob’s lips and it almost hurts, the force of it. Jacob’s cries on the other end tell him that they’ve tipped over the edge together, and Sam feels a few tears leak out and trail down to his ears.
For a few moments they just breathe together over the phone, Sam pulling his fingers out and wincing at the empty feeling. It crashes down on him, suddenly, the fact that Jacob isn’t really here, that he can’t actually smell him at all, that there’s no heat other than what radiates from Sam’s own spent body.
“Jacob,” he sobs, the rush of endorphins leaving him loose and empty. His bed is empty, everything suddenly feels empty. He slides two fingers back inside himself to stave off that feeling and whines. “Really need you to be here right now.”
He’s unable to stop the emotion from coloring his voice, and he presses his face into the pillow to hide his blush from no one.
“Oh Sammy, baby, it’s okay,” Jacob coos, and Sam whimpers. “I’ll see you so soon, just focus on getting to Canada and before you know it I’ll be back by your side, ‘kay?”
“Sorry, sorry I’m being so sappy,” Sam sniffs. “Something about aftercare on the phone doesn’t hit the same.”
Jacob gives a little watery giggle. “Okay so imagine I’m curled up by your side, and I’m petting your hair, and kissing your face, and our sweat is all over both of us instead of just all over my sheets.”
“Mmm,” Sam closes his eyes, gently slips his fingers out again. “Sounds nice. You smell so good.”
“And, I dunno, maybe I’m going in for seconds, who’s to say?”
Sam giggles, a little delirious, and Jacob giggles along with him.
“Seconds, thirds, fourths, fifths,” Jacob keeps going and Sam’s heart squeezes with affection.
“Okay, well we’re still just human men, so,” Sam breathes out, the banter allowing him to relax into the mattress.
“Dunno about that,” Jacob hums. “Think we might be a little magic.”
“Mm. Y’might be right.”
In the morning, Sam opens his phone and the call log reads 5 hours and 37 minutes. Oops.
—
Sam I’ll have you know I had a sex dream abt u last night 😅😅 wish I could remember more to give u a play by play but I will just say two words: fuck. me.
—
The countdown calendar on Sam’s home screen finally displays less than 24 hours.
“We gotta figure out how to meet as soon as possible, but in private so I can kiss you the second I see you,” Jacob says as soon as Sam answers his call. “I’m dead serious, Sammy, I won’t be able to help myself and I don’t know if I’ll care who sees, in the moment.”
“I agree, absolutely, actually maybe I shouldn’t even try to meet you at the airport, d’you wanna just come straight here? I’ll text you the address. I’ve got nothing that day.”
What goes unsaid is the fact that he cleared his schedule the second Jacob sent over his flight details.
Jacob probably already knows.
—
Hey love 😘 boarding in a sec. see u soon!!!!!!!!!!! 🥰 🥰 🥰 here’s a little something to tide u over
Sam takes a deep breath and rolls over in his Toronto rental’s comfortable bed. Jacob has sent three images.
First, Jacob sitting up against his pillows, framed from the navel up, pupils blowing his eyes from brown to black, one hand splayed out over his belly and the other pinching the peak of a nipple between elegant fingertips.
Fuck.
Second, the camera placed lower and revealing that Jacob is completely nude, his erection front and center, hard and ready and just as beautiful as the rest of him. His hand circles the base of it and his mouth is dropped open and Sam can see just a flash of his pink tongue, shiny and inviting.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Third, and most devastatingly, Jacob in the same pose from the same angle but this time his torso is decorated with ropes of pearly white, dots of come up his chest and beading in the curls that scatter across his body, and his mouth is still open but now it’s filled with two of his own fingers, covered in his release, the sheen of it starkly visible on his bottom lip.
Holy fucking shit Jacob
Are you trying to kill me????
You’re so so so hot my god
I hope you didn’t pay for plane wifi so I’m gonna go jerk off over this for 11 hours
See you soon 💕
—
Finally, finally, finally, finally.
It thrums in Sam’s veins, beats in the pulse in his temples, tingles in all his extremities. A knock at the door.
Finally.
Jacob crashes into him, solid and real, flesh and blood. Sam’s arms lock around his neck like they’re supposed to — Jacob already holding him tight.
He’s finally here.
Sam buries his nose beneath the beard Jacob hasn’t shaved off yet, breathes in his familiar bouquet, nuzzles into the warm skin. Before he can second-guess it, he plants a kiss to the top of Jacob’s throat. The sweet, soft noise Jacob makes flips a switch in Sam’s brain and all of a sudden he’s hiding a surge of overwhelmed tears in the collar of Jacob’s bomber jacket.
“Oh, Sammy,” Jacob coos, one hand coming up to card through his hair, the other rubbing soothing circles into his trembling back. “It’s alright, shh. You’re gonna make me cry too. It’s okay.”
“Missed you,” Sam chokes out into the solidness of his best friend.
“I missed you too, so much.”
Jacob’s hand a warm brand between his shoulder blades, Jacob pressing a kiss to the side of his head.
Sam takes a moment to gather himself, catch his breath, and blink his tears away, before lifting his head up and meeting Jacob’s gaze. He sways forward, tugged by the string that ties them together.
Jacob catches him, warm lips opening against his own. His kiss is careful, chaste and tender, far removed from the fiery memories of tongue and teeth that Sam holds so close. Just the simple, pointed movement of Jacob’s lips on his lips, Jacob’s hands on his body, the unfamiliar rasp of his beard against Sam’s own stubble.
Sam sighs into his mouth, sinks into the feeling of relief, brings his hands up to hold Jacob’s face gently like he’s been dreaming of for months. Jacob hums into the kiss, opens up to pull Sam’s bottom lip between his own, adding a few degrees of heat to the sweetness of their kiss. For all the urgency Sam has felt the past few weeks, it’s second-nature to slow down now, to savor each brush of Jacob’s tongue, the lazy sizzle-pop of tension breaking between them.
He tastes even better than he did in Sam’s memories, feels a thousand times better still.
“God, Jacob,” he chokes out as the hot brand of Jacob’s mouth shifts, travels down the side of his jaw, his neck. “I need you so badly.”
“You’ve got me,” Jacob promises, then sucks a bruising kiss into his skin.
Sam groans, no chance of holding back.
Satisfied with his work, Jacob lifts up, smiling sweetly at him. They stand there in the doorway, clutching each other’s faces in eager hands, eyes locked as they absorb the shift in energy between them.
“Look at you,” Jacob says quietly, dark eyes darting all around. “I missed your face, you pretty man.”
A rush of blood colors his cheeks.
“I missed you so much. You’re beautiful,” he says, honest.
Jacob’s eyebrows draw together with pained fondness and he pulls Sam into him again, a deeper kiss, slick slide of lips and tongue, sucking and biting in turn until they’re both breathing deep, pressed up tight enough it has Sam thinking deliriously that they could meld into one being.
Sam lets a hand wander down, following the bumps and contours of Jacob’s spine, curving around the perfect roundness of his ass, which makes Jacob squeak a little into his mouth and god the feel of him is so addictive, his body so reactive to Sam’s touch. It makes him feel powerful and vulnerable all at once. Jacob sneaks a hand under Sam’s shirt, a solid, scorching pressure on his lower back, urging him closer, closer, not a millimeter of space between them.
Their kiss only breaks when Jacob’s rucked his shirt all the way up to his shoulders and grunts, frustrated, into Sam’s mouth. Sam forces himself to break away and laughs softly at the petulant look Jacob shoots him.
“Have to stop kissing if you wanna take off my shirt,” he placates, getting his own fingers under Jacob’s shirt, his smooth, fevered skin.
“Yes please, now please, off,” Jacob demands, and who is Sam to deny him?
He whips off his own and helps Jacob with his, and then yes, fantasy come to life, quest fulfilled, the two of them colliding again in a heated embrace. Jacob’s hands are restless, indecisive, like they want to be everywhere on Sam’s body at once. Clutching at his waist, skimming over ribs, squeezing a hip, wandering up to find and cup a pec.
“I have to say, I think your tits are underrated.” Jacob breaks the heated silence in his rough timbre.
Sam laughs into the hollow of Jacob’s clavicle. “Crazy thing to say. Have people been rating our tits online?”
“Probably, I dunno.” Jacob’s voice is muffled as he mouths over the swell of said tit. “Either way. Underrated. Fantastic tits.”
The reply disappears from Sam’s brain as Jacob closes his mouth around a nipple, flicking the nub with his tongue, just a hint of his teeth on oversensitive skin.
Sam cries out, fingertips digging into Jacob’s waist. “Oh god, Jake, please —”
Jacob pops off, kisses hungry and wet across his chest to give the other nipple the same treatment.
“Please, please —”
He doesn’t know what he’s begging for, other than more. More of Jacob’s mouth, hands, body, touch, love.
“Let’s go to bed, yeah love?” Jacob asks, trailing his nose up between Sam’s pecs to his throat. “Waited long enough.”
“Yes,” Sam nods fervently. “Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.”
Jacob giggles and Sam takes a moment just to stare at him, looking flushed, looking happy. Looking at Sam like he knows exactly what Sam wants.
Because he does.
The rest of their clothes disappear en route to the bedroom, and Sam can finally admire — without the barrier of a screen — the lines of Jacob’s long limbs, the warm expanse of his skin, the pretty whorls of his body hair, his cock bobbing dark and inviting between his legs.
Jacob slides into the bed first, pushing aside the covers and reclining, relaxed and supine. He beckons to Sam with one finger.
“Come to me,” he whispers.
Sam cracks a smile and shakes his head, bursting at the seams with fondness.
He goes.
Their magnetic poles snap together and they meet in the middle, on their sides, mirroring each other — Sam hikes a leg up over Jacob’s thick thigh, pulls him impossibly closer until they’re pressed together from forehead to chest, from belly to cock to leg to the tops of their feet.
Sam nudges his nose against Jacob’s in greeting.
“Hi,” Jacob says quietly.
“Hey yourself,” Sam smiles, giddy into the scant space between them.
Jacob reaches out and sweeps Sam’s hair back from his face, runs his fingers across his cheek, pads gently at the corner of his mouth. Sam purses his lips to press a tiny kiss to Jacob’s thumb and Jacob smiles, syrupy sweet. They lean in at the same time, come together in a slow, slick meeting of lips and tongues. Jacob kisses him like they have all the time in the world, deep and thorough, mapping out the ridges of his teeth, his hard palate.
The matching lines of their cocks are stiff between them, the contact a live firework every time they hitch and rub together and Sam finds himself whining into Jacob’s kiss. Jacob slithers a palm down to grip his ass, tugging, encouraging him to move and so he does, shifts his hips up to rut gently against Jacob’s belly. Jacob moans, hot breath on Sam’s cheek, and grinds back.
It’s getting slippery, both of them leaking, both of them balancing on a live wire. Sam tilts his hips a little and oh, his breath catches in his chest as the angle causes his cock to slide easily between Jacob’s thighs.
“Sammy, yes,” Jacob sighs. “Yeah, fuck me there, that’s good, you’re so good.”
“God, Jacob, holy fuck,” he thrusts into the soft space and feels Jacob squeeze, flexing the strong muscles in his plush thighs like he means to keep Sam there forever. “You feel so good, so — ahh, shit — so fucking good, I can’t, please Jacob I can’t —”
“Oh baby, it’s okay, let go whenever you need, keep going, keep going.”
Jacob’s broken voice, Jacob’s nails raking down his back, Jacob’s lips catching wet and blazing on his skin, Jacob’s soft hairy balls caressing him every time he pulls out and slides back in — the spring in Sam wound tighter and tighter until his vision starts to go white and he can’t hold back anymore, he can’t —
“There you are,” Jacob groans into his ear, biting down on the lobe as Sam’s release crashes through him, the passage between Jacob’s thighs suddenly dripping, scorching.
Overwhelmed, thrumming all over, Sam buries his face in the sweaty hollow of Jacob’s clavicle, laves at his skin so that the taste of Jacob rushes through him along with his orgasm, tied together in sensory memory forever. Jacob is nipping at his ear, sucking behind it, grasping at his ass again and, oh still painfully hard and kicking against Sam’s abdomen.
Sam works a tingling hand between them, traps Jacob’s cock against his own belly and touches him like that, not so much stroking as just grinding, working his palm over Jacob’s length, thumbing around his foreskin and over the leaking head of him every few motions. It seems to be doing wonders for Jacob, clusters of sighs and groans and huffs and whines floating from his slack, bitten lips. A high-pitched cry when the head of his dick catches at Sam’s navel, and Sam presses against him hard.
“Sam, ahh fuck, I’m gonna — please, yes, I’m —”
He comes in a rush between them with Sam’s name on his tongue and Sam surges forward to claim his mouth in a wet approximation of a kiss, a filthy slide of lips and spit and un-caught breath. His softening cock is still nestled in the mess on Jacob’s thighs and his hands pet aimlessly across miles of sweat-beaded skin.
“Oh my god,” Jacob breathes out, first to speak after their kiss slows to a stop in the aftermath. “Oh my god.”
Sam feels a hysterical bubble of laughter rise in his throat and he lets it out against Jacob’s cheek.
“I can’t believe we just did that. Fuck, Jake I’ve been thinking about this nonstop for a month and I couldn’t have even imagined —” He can’t find the words for it, brain zapped of energy and limbs made of lead. He settles for, “you felt better than I ever dreamed.”
“Aww, Sammy.” Jacob looks into his eyes, blinking slow and sweet. “You are a dream,” he says simply.
And Sam has to kiss him about that again, so their words become lost for a few eternal minutes.
Eventually, his cock slips free and he whines into Jacob’s mouth. Jacob pecks him once, twice, three times.
Sam sends thanks to his former self for having the foresight to bring some wipes into the room, so they don’t have to get up to clean the worst of the sticky mess from between Jacob’s gorgeous thighs, Sam’s torso.
They sink back into an approximation of the same position, chest to chest, legs tangled together, faces nuzzling together, aimless, sated kisses, mumbled soft words without focus.
Might be minutes that they lay there, might be hours, might be days.
Just when Sam feeling the lull drag him away from consciousness, Jacob rolls away, taking his body heat with him. Sam can’t help but pout a little about it. Jacob doesn’t notice as he — grabs his phone?
“One sec,” Jacob says, patting Sam’s thigh and typing with his other hand. After a handful of agonizing seconds, he thunks the phone down and flops back over, half on top of Sam like a sweaty weighted blanket.
On the other nightstand, Sam’s phone goes: buzz-buzzbuzz-buzz.
He drops a hand onto Jacob’s head and laughs under his breath. “You don’t have to text me when you’re right here on top of me.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Jacob mumbles into his armpit.
Sam reaches over for his phone, curious, but Jacob moves to stop him.
“No, no,” Jacob captures both of Sam’s hands. “No, that’s for the morning, you’re not allowed to look yet.”
“Silly man,” Sam coos, leaning down to kiss where he can reach: his hairline, his temple.
“Your silly man,” Jacob confirms.
Isn’t that something.
—
Just want to say that I’m really glad I met u and I’m really glad we found this together. And I can’t believe I’m naked in your bed at the moment, how fucking wild is that??? I’m literally gonna cuddle u right now and kiss u goodnight life is crazy. Hope u sleep well. I love you 💖
Sam steals a glance at Jacob’s still sleeping face, sweet and slack on the silk pillowcase.
I love you too 💖