Mary continues to chaperone them the rest of the day, unsubtly sitting herself between them at their shared panel. Not that that’s going to do anything for their, ah, reputation, he supposes—not if any of the Critters either in the audience or watching the livestream have listened to the hot tub episode of AWNP. Not that it’s a prerequisite to spot the energy that sparks between the three of them, even with Mary clearly trying to behave herself.
It’s late enough in the day that his plug is beginning to get annoying, even considering that he gave himself a break at lunchtime and took it out for the thirty minutes he got to himself in their room. One day is fine; three days running is a lot to ask of his ass, and he’s worried Sam won’t be able to have him again tonight, that it’ll just be too much.
Sam notices he’s got the wiggles and texts him, which is supposed to be a semi-official no-no and which they frequently do anyway.
What’s wrong? Got your panties in a bunch?
The panties are fine, Liam texts back, waiting for the little choked noise that’s Sam being unsure if he should be laughing or not before adding, The plug’s a little irritating.
You could have left it out. You didn’t have to keep it in all weekend.
It’s the best way to make sure that all your hot seed stays exactly where it belongs to get me good and bred, husband.
Sam fakes a coughing fit so convincing that the moderator stops talking and ducks offstage for a fresh bottle of water, leaving the three of them staring out at a sea of faces—some of which are blue or green or lavender—for thirty seconds of what would have been the equivalent of dead air had Mary not leaned into her table mic and announced, with a completely straight face, “Sorry about that, folks; Liam’s pregnant, Sam’s the father, and they’re just trying so hard not to talk about it.”
Her words are met with a roar of laughter and applause. Liam stands, turns side on to the crowd, and pooches his belly out as much as he can; Mary leans her cheek against it and looks up at him in what would be an adoring manner if she weren’t mouthing I will kill you both at the same time.
When Liam sits back down he slides his (locked) phone to her, and so does Sam, and with the phones confiscated and moderator returned to the stage, the panel proceeds with, if not no shenanigans, then at least slightly fewer overtly kinky ones.
*
Mary has her head in her hands, her elbows on the table. They’re tucked away in the corner of a Chinese restaurant, waiting for their food.
“I assume that you’re not coming to the afterparty tonight,” Mary says through her wildly mussed hair. She has run her hands through it several times.
“I mean, we could make it for a while,” Sam says.
“You ‘making it’ is what I’m worried about.” Mary emerges from her shield of hair and hands and reaches out to them both. “Look, it’s one thing for people to make jokes on Twitter and Tumblr and wherever, but you know no matter how happy people are to joke about polyamory, if a photo gets out or something—”
“I have literally said I’m in love with Sam on Talks and everyone’s still ‘oh, just gals being pals’,” Liam says. “At this point I think I could bend him over Brian’s lap and spank him and the internet would just wonder whether we learned it from Marisha or Taliesin.”
“No, they’d assume it was Taliesin,” Sam says. “They assume everything is Taliesin.”
“They’re usually right,” Mary says, adding a thank you as their waiter brings out a variety of dishes. Liam can’t remember what he ordered but they always end up sharing anyway.
“Wouldn’t it be ‘boys being toys’?” Sam asks as he loads his plate with food.
“What?” Mary and Liam ask in unison.
“Instead of ‘gals being pals’.”
“It absolutely would not be that. More like ‘men being “no homo”’.” Liam drops one of his chopsticks as he attempts to stab them in the air for emphasis. Sam reaches for it at the same time as he does and it’s the first time they’ve touched since the frantic kissing just before lunch. Sam gives the chopstick a little push to secure it back between Liam’s fingers, letting his fingertips trail over Liam’s knuckles, and Liam fumbles for his water, almost spilling it, struggling with a suddenly dry mouth.
“Guys, please eat your dinner and try to not grope each other in the process,” Mary says and, although the cheap wooden chopsticks aren’t particularly impressive, Liam feels like she’s wielding a butcher’s knife.
“We can multitask,” Sam says.
“No!”
*
Taking an hour or so at the afterparty to wind down with friends isn’t the worst idea, no matter how much Liam’s cock disagrees with his mind. It gives them time to digest their meal, and to begin switching their brains over from con mode back to—well, he’s not sure he can say “normal” mode, considering they still have one more night to live out this fantasy—but not having to be 100% switched on and public-facing is relaxing.
Bonnie starts picking out a vaguely medieval tune on her ukulele, and Xander starts dancing. Liam’s waiting for Sam to start making up lyrics, but when his gaze lands on his lover, who’s standing on the far side of the room, all he can see is the way Sam’s looking at him. For all he knows, Sam’s been staring for the last hour. He doesn’t have a drooling tongue and heart eyes, but he might as well have.
Without formally excusing himself from the gathering, Liam makes his way to the door.
He’s just stepping into the elevator, expecting Sam to have waited a few minutes or at least gotten caught up in the crowd trying to leave, when a warm body presses up behind his, a hand coming to rest on his belly.
Fortunately they have the elevator to themselves; they’re staying at the hotel the con is being held in and the chances of a Critter walking out as they’re walking in are much higher than normal. Even as Liam swipes his keycard and hits the button for their floor, he’s anticipating someone walking up behind them and composing a Vaxlan ode on the spot.
Sam lets the doors close and the elevator start moving before he takes Liam’s wrists and pins him to the wall, gently but firmly, and starts kissing him. The kisses are slow and hungry and send pleasure humming warm through Liam’s body. After a day of teasing and deprivation, not to mention walking around with his pretty green underwear going unappreciated, the contact is so very welcome.
It’s almost disappointing to have to stop when the elevator does, but that’s alleviated by the fact that now they can go into their room and do all kinds of dirty things to each other without worrying about Mary emptying an ice bucket over the two of them.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
"Shiny" (Glow Night Three), Sam/Liam, Explicit (2/?)
Date: 2018-04-08 05:33 am (UTC)It’s late enough in the day that his plug is beginning to get annoying, even considering that he gave himself a break at lunchtime and took it out for the thirty minutes he got to himself in their room. One day is fine; three days running is a lot to ask of his ass, and he’s worried Sam won’t be able to have him again tonight, that it’ll just be too much.
Sam notices he’s got the wiggles and texts him, which is supposed to be a semi-official no-no and which they frequently do anyway.
What’s wrong? Got your panties in a bunch?
The panties are fine, Liam texts back, waiting for the little choked noise that’s Sam being unsure if he should be laughing or not before adding, The plug’s a little irritating.
You could have left it out. You didn’t have to keep it in all weekend.
It’s the best way to make sure that all your hot seed stays exactly where it belongs to get me good and bred, husband.
Sam fakes a coughing fit so convincing that the moderator stops talking and ducks offstage for a fresh bottle of water, leaving the three of them staring out at a sea of faces—some of which are blue or green or lavender—for thirty seconds of what would have been the equivalent of dead air had Mary not leaned into her table mic and announced, with a completely straight face, “Sorry about that, folks; Liam’s pregnant, Sam’s the father, and they’re just trying so hard not to talk about it.”
Her words are met with a roar of laughter and applause. Liam stands, turns side on to the crowd, and pooches his belly out as much as he can; Mary leans her cheek against it and looks up at him in what would be an adoring manner if she weren’t mouthing I will kill you both at the same time.
When Liam sits back down he slides his (locked) phone to her, and so does Sam, and with the phones confiscated and moderator returned to the stage, the panel proceeds with, if not no shenanigans, then at least slightly fewer overtly kinky ones.
*
Mary has her head in her hands, her elbows on the table. They’re tucked away in the corner of a Chinese restaurant, waiting for their food.
“I assume that you’re not coming to the afterparty tonight,” Mary says through her wildly mussed hair. She has run her hands through it several times.
“I mean, we could make it for a while,” Sam says.
“You ‘making it’ is what I’m worried about.” Mary emerges from her shield of hair and hands and reaches out to them both. “Look, it’s one thing for people to make jokes on Twitter and Tumblr and wherever, but you know no matter how happy people are to joke about polyamory, if a photo gets out or something—”
“I have literally said I’m in love with Sam on Talks and everyone’s still ‘oh, just gals being pals’,” Liam says. “At this point I think I could bend him over Brian’s lap and spank him and the internet would just wonder whether we learned it from Marisha or Taliesin.”
“No, they’d assume it was Taliesin,” Sam says. “They assume everything is Taliesin.”
“They’re usually right,” Mary says, adding a thank you as their waiter brings out a variety of dishes. Liam can’t remember what he ordered but they always end up sharing anyway.
“Wouldn’t it be ‘boys being toys’?” Sam asks as he loads his plate with food.
“What?” Mary and Liam ask in unison.
“Instead of ‘gals being pals’.”
“It absolutely would not be that. More like ‘men being “no homo”’.” Liam drops one of his chopsticks as he attempts to stab them in the air for emphasis. Sam reaches for it at the same time as he does and it’s the first time they’ve touched since the frantic kissing just before lunch. Sam gives the chopstick a little push to secure it back between Liam’s fingers, letting his fingertips trail over Liam’s knuckles, and Liam fumbles for his water, almost spilling it, struggling with a suddenly dry mouth.
“Guys, please eat your dinner and try to not grope each other in the process,” Mary says and, although the cheap wooden chopsticks aren’t particularly impressive, Liam feels like she’s wielding a butcher’s knife.
“We can multitask,” Sam says.
“No!”
*
Taking an hour or so at the afterparty to wind down with friends isn’t the worst idea, no matter how much Liam’s cock disagrees with his mind. It gives them time to digest their meal, and to begin switching their brains over from con mode back to—well, he’s not sure he can say “normal” mode, considering they still have one more night to live out this fantasy—but not having to be 100% switched on and public-facing is relaxing.
Bonnie starts picking out a vaguely medieval tune on her ukulele, and Xander starts dancing. Liam’s waiting for Sam to start making up lyrics, but when his gaze lands on his lover, who’s standing on the far side of the room, all he can see is the way Sam’s looking at him. For all he knows, Sam’s been staring for the last hour. He doesn’t have a drooling tongue and heart eyes, but he might as well have.
Without formally excusing himself from the gathering, Liam makes his way to the door.
He’s just stepping into the elevator, expecting Sam to have waited a few minutes or at least gotten caught up in the crowd trying to leave, when a warm body presses up behind his, a hand coming to rest on his belly.
Fortunately they have the elevator to themselves; they’re staying at the hotel the con is being held in and the chances of a Critter walking out as they’re walking in are much higher than normal. Even as Liam swipes his keycard and hits the button for their floor, he’s anticipating someone walking up behind them and composing a Vaxlan ode on the spot.
Sam lets the doors close and the elevator start moving before he takes Liam’s wrists and pins him to the wall, gently but firmly, and starts kissing him. The kisses are slow and hungry and send pleasure humming warm through Liam’s body. After a day of teasing and deprivation, not to mention walking around with his pretty green underwear going unappreciated, the contact is so very welcome.
It’s almost disappointing to have to stop when the elevator does, but that’s alleviated by the fact that now they can go into their room and do all kinds of dirty things to each other without worrying about Mary emptying an ice bucket over the two of them.