As Nate's shirt came off, Sam bit his lip and drank in the view - he was handsome, for sure. Sam's hand immediately went to touch at his chest, slide down his stomach and to his hip bones. It felt almost like sacrilege to touch something so pretty, when his fingers, long and pale, felt ghoulish and entirely inferior.
"You...do?" He smiled, pushing his hands up through Nate's hair and kissing him, moaning against his lips as their hips made contact. Honestly, he would be content with this - feeling so desired, the anticipation of what was to come delicious but the current activities still electric, surges of warm pleasure pushing through his body when Nate touched him, moved against him.
As Nate moved away he whined, but when he realised he was moving down...Sam nodded through the butterflies in his stomach, let Nate pull his pants down and away. He felt exposed, but not vulnerable; he found he trusted this Outlander for some reason.
Samuel
I tried to dance with the devil on your back
