Disclaimer: If they belonged to us, Sam would have had
fewer bad haircuts.

Fandom: X-Men

Spoilers: *snerk*  No.

Pairing: Cannonball/Iceman

Rating: NC-17

Authors' notes:  Iain pointed out that we seem determined to
make Sam the slut of the Marvelverse.  Alas, it's true.

Feedback is our heroin substitute.  leytelj@gmail.com
and janestclair15@hotmail.com
 

*
 

Bobby's licking Sam. He's more than a little shocked at
himself for doing it.

Definitely shocked, and definitely still doing it. All
around Sam's hard belly, too, though his tongue feels drawn
to that shallow dip of a navel.

This extra little quiver of delight in his stomach when it
makes Sam gasp.  And wiggle. Not even something as
dignified as a jump, just a squirm of pleasure. Pushing
that patch of bare skin against Bobby's mouth.

It's just so *sexual*. He started this as a game. Wrestling
match over the remote that got out of hand. Some tickling,
some rolling around on the couch, and when Sam's bare
stomach was offered to him like that, he had to lick it.
Had to. Had to do it again when it made Sam squeal like a
sissy girl.

Sam's t-shirt's pushed up, but it's close enough to brush
Bobby's cheek when he burrows in. Aiming for that little,
shallow place that Sam apparently loves. Really
deliberately not thinking about what he's doing. Paying
attention instead to how Sam's skin tastes in the hollows
between washboard ripples.

Burrows his tongue into Sam's navel. It's not a deep one,
but there's something *there*. Makes Sam shiver and then
groan. Fingers suddenly in Bobby's hair, behind his ears,
holding him in place.

And. Sam's hard. Pressed close enough that Bobby can't
*not* feel it.

It's one of those things. Okay so long as the other guy
gets hard first. Not that there was much of a time
difference there. Really, one erection just begs another,
right?

Not that this whole other-guy thing is something Bobby gets
up to often. Or, let's face it, *ever*.

Unless we're talking about fantasies.

Which we're not. Definitely not.

No, not talking at all. Just. Licking. Tasting Sam who.
Tastes really good.  Feels good against him. Hard in not
just the obvious places. Solid and strong and holding onto
Bobby, and see, it's okay. Not Bobby's fault.

There was the scream, and the shudder, and the holding, so
really, there's nothing Bobby can do *but* lick.

Nothing at all, nope.

"Bobby..."

And Sam, he's noticing, can sound really. Husky.
Breathless. (horny)

Fingers tightening in his hair for a moment before oh no
releasing and Bobby has to stop. No excuse any more, has
to stop, and he will, just as soon as Sam says his name
like that again.

The navel works for that, and those little furrows work, but
nothing like the first time Bobby hooks his fingers in the
waist of Sam's jeans, tugs down, and lays his mouth open
just to the right of Sam's pubic hair. Little shallow place
over the bone there, really thin skin. It's hot. Locks his
mouth over it, gets it wet, and just for about thirty
really fierce seconds, sucks.

Pulling all the blood to the surface. Leaving marks.

"Oh god Bobby..."

And yeah, he promised. So. Lets the skin go, at least.
There's a red place that's gonna turn purple in pretty
short order. Bruised. (god, hickey)

Looks up at Sam and tries to figure out how, exactly, he's
gonna manage to get out of this. With Sam's thigh over his
and oh god his hand down the front of Sam's jeans. Not in
his underwear or anything, but *touching*.  Rubbing his
thumb against skin and hair and pulling little groans out
of Sam even now.

Just crouched there, still half bent-over, with Sam's leg
holding him down.  Sam's naked, wet belly exposed. Sam
*staring* at him.

Somewhere here, he went way, way over a line.

Probably the thing with Sam's jeans. Not really a lot of ways
to mistake that one.

He could change. Slide out. Chill Sam, scramble off, then run.
Laugh from the doorway.

Except.

This *thumb* starts rubbing at his eye and ends up touching the
edge of his mouth. Sam's eyes are huge. He's still god he's
still hard. Bucks when Bobby dips a thumb into his navel.

Groans when Bobby opens his mouth just *that* much, and
really, it could be just to say something, and Sam pushes
his thumb inside.

Rubs it over his tongue. *Pets* his tongue. Like. Like skin
or something and Bobby's. Heh. Frozen. Can't do a thing but
stare like an idiot with his mouth wide open and his
erection pressing into Sam's leg.

And then there's a fingernail pressing down. Not hard, just
hard enough to make Bobby try to swallow. Close his mouth
around it and.

Well, he's supposed to suck it, right? That's what you do
when there's something.

God.

Sucking Sam's thumb hard now, licking it and there's just
this hint of salt and it's just everything Bobby needs
right now. Has to lick it off, get it all and when Sam
pulls it out Bobby moans. Realizes he's *been* moaning
and scrambles back.

Stops because if there's a time to run away it really isn't
*after* you've been sucking another man's thumb but he
can't stay either and at first --

Sam's eyes all heavy-lidded. Staring at him with this
sleepy-hungry look like Bobby was doing *exactly* the
right thing. Long moments to just fall into that stare and
try to swallow his thudding heart back down before Sam
shakes it off.

Blinks.

Stops and really *looks* at him.

"Bobby? You all right?"

"Uh. Um. I ah. I didn't mean..."

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Ah bet you haven't done this before."

And. Well, *jesus*.

Sam's done this before?

Which means, really, that Sam knew what the hell this was a
long time ago.  And he thought Bobby was.

God.

Except, of course, that Bobby *was*. Licking. Tonguing him.
Leaving hickeys and (god) sucking his thumb. Makes him
wonder who's seducing who here.

Whether he wants to be seduced.

"Bobby? Hey." Hand on his arm. "Hey. C'mere."

Pulls him forward. He's strong. And Sam really isn't a kid
anymore. As much a grown-up as any of them, and more so
than Bobby, apparently. Pulls him in and rubs that
still-wet thumb along the line of Bobby's neck for a
second.

Leans in and kisses him.

Apparently he wants to be seduced, at least if it involves
Sam kissing him like this. It's just this easy, friendly kiss
for the first couple of seconds. Just lips, a little bit open.
Hand behind Bobby's head, telling him to relax. The thumb
reaching around to the side of Bobby's jaw, rubbing and rubbing
and it takes Bobby a while to realize that it's coaxing his
mouth farther open.

And by then he's wide open, just about drinking Sam's
mouth, and it's only then that the tongue comes in.
Touching his lips and sliding in to rub against his
tongue. Tease his tongue out.

Gets him kissing down into Sam's mouth. Wide and panting
and good god when did he end up in Sam's lap? Isn't there
some way they could do this without Bobby having to sit on
Sam like this?

Rub of a hand against the bulge in Bobby's jeans that's not
going away at any great rate. Makes him whimper.

And maybe.

If he could. Spread his legs.

Spreading his legs, yeah, and oh God that feels so good.
Sam just. Touching him like this so easily, like it's
nothing, like there's nothing wrong with this picture at
all.

And suddenly it's very important that he touch Sam. An
immoral imperative to get his arms under Sam's and pull
him closer. Touch him. Soft cotton over warm skin and now
Sam's pulling *him* closer.

One hand in his hair, other arm around his back and holding
him close. Chest to chest and Bobby wants to tell him this
is almost everything he wanted, wants to thank him, touch
him. Settles for kissing even deeper, sucking on Sam's
tongue and when a shift brings their cocks together Bobby
has to break the kiss to groan. Buck up against Sam and
then do it again because it feels just that good.

"Oh, yeah, Bobby, that's..."

Sam trails off, kisses the side of Bobby's jaw and his
hands are moving now.  All over his back, pressing and
kneading muscle and moving down, down --

"Is this okay? Are you okay?"

"I'm. Yeah, it's. It's okay --"

Hands on his ass and Bobby buries his face against Sam's
neck and whimpers, helplessly.

God, that somebody should *touch* him like this. That
somebody should touch him at all. And Sam's not even
kneading him. Just touching. Thumbs, god busy thumbs that
Sam's got, and no two ways about it. Rubbing at the skin
on his back. Just above the waist of his jeans.

Takes him a minute to realize that it's a question. About
how far he wants this to go. Sam's being so *careful* with
him. As careful as you can be with a guy you've kissed
pretty much into stupidity.

Kiss on his temple, just beside his eye.

"You trust me, Bobby?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"Okay, then." And Sam lays them down. Lays down and pulls
Bobby down on top of him. Still rubbing his back and
holding them together and kissing him as soon as he brings
his mouth in range.

And this is okay too. If he just spreads his legs, gets
them on either side of Sam's. It feels so *good* when he
pushes down. All that pressure on his cock.

This is really. He wishes somebody'd *told* him.

Both hands holding Sam's face still. Sam's knees pulling up
just that much on either side of him. And he's thrusting
in, hard and almost desperate against Sam and Sam's
laughing at him, kissing him and rubbing his back and
hanging on when he tries to pull away.

And this is *serious*, but Sam's laughing, moaning and
laughing and pushing up into Bobby's thrusts and just very
clearly not getting the gravity of this situation.

Christ, sounding like Hank and now is *so* not the time to
be thinking about Hank and all that soft, warm fur and the
hot, hard man beneath him and Jesus, Jesus he's gonna
*come*.

Right in his pants, like a. Like some. Oh God, oh God and
he can't stop moving. Faster, almost *grinding* down
against Sam and now there's *no* question of moving away,
or stopping.

Not even when Sam grabs his jeans and *shoves* them down
his hips --

"That's better, raght, Bobby?"

Christ, that *accent* and he's blushing furiously and still
trying to  thrust, still pushing, now against Sam's fingers
as he works on his own fly, *can't* stop --

"You are *damned* sexy, you know it?"

-- and Sam finally gets his jeans out of the way, grab's
Bobby's ass and yanks him down against him and his brain
just shorts out.

Flashes of

hot

skin

cock

and Bobby's coming hard, shouting and jerking and
shuddering and finally collapsing.

Just lays there with his mouth buried in Sam's neck and no
muscle control at all. Sam under him's still hard, sticky
from Bobby coming on him. Laughing softly against him.
God, there's somebody else's *cock* next to his. Warm and
hard and god alive, living Sam against him.

Sam kissing his ear. His hair. All along his hairline.
Tilting up his face  to kiss his closed eyes. Wrapping an
arm around his waist and holding him until he shakes
himself out.

Tilts his head up and kisses back.

Wiggles a bit, trying to push the jeans farther down his
legs, and gets this almost inhuman moan out of Sam. Rubs a
little harder and yeah, it's sticky and not quite what he
had in mind.

Wants to see it.

Still kissing while he scrambles to the side. Jeans around
his thighs are a serious problem, but he hasn't spent all
those hours in the Danger Room just to fall off the couch
'cause he's got his pants around his ankles. Gets down and
kneels beside Sam. Keeps kissing him. One hand sliding down
to touch that cock even before he looks.

It's. It's not like his. Different shape, different angle,
different heat and slickness and that's definitely not his
moan when the head of it settles into his palm. Bobby rubs
his thumb across the slit experimentally and gets a
full-body shudder out of Sam. Buck of those hips and a very
serious, demanding moan that extends through several
syllables and tones.

Bobby breaks off the kiss and finally looks.

Sam's cock in his hand isn't quite what he expected. A bit
shorter, a bit thicker. Redder than anything on someone as
pale as Sam should be. Big, hard veins standing out on
either side, this extra interesting texture as he strokes
up and down it. As the hips buck up to follow his hand.

"God Bobby. You are so gorgeous. Want you."

Licks Sam's mouth and gets his tongue sucked on before he
can escape.  "What?"

"Want your mouth god Bobby I want you mouth Bobby suck me."

Makes him gasp, blush hard. He can *feel* the blush, the
rush of cool air that means his ears are brick red, and
this. This really isn't the way it's supposed to go, what
with the blushing virgin and the experienced man and it
isn't that he's actually thought about that so much as
that he's been jerking off to that fantasy for. A really
long time.

There's supposed to be more time, a break, a
pat-Bobby-on-the-head-and-tell-him-it's-all-right time.

Not this. *Man* under him, smelling of sweat and lust and
begging for Bobby's mouth.

Bobby's wide-open, wet, wet mouth because he's drooling
a little, like some village idiot and Sam's cock is so
*hard*, so *hot*.

Drops of pre-come at the tip.

And didn't this all start with his mouth?

With his tongue, slipping out to. Taste.

Bright and sharp in his mouth, almost spicy, but not really
at all, and he has to lick again, just to be sure --

"*Bobby*..."

Sam's hips arching right off the couch, pushing toward
Bobby's mouth like he. Needs it.

And Bobby opens his mouth. Not wide, just enough for Sam to
push in, stretch Bobby's mouth open with his cock and Bobby
wants to scream, almost wants to cry with it. This
incredible weight and stretch of Sam in him. Opening him
wide and pushing in and spit leaks out the corners of his
mouth, ribbons clear down Sam's shaft and Bobby shudders.

The *taste*.

Like his own. Like nothing else. He's tasting another man's
cock and it's so good it's going to kill him.

Sucking another man's cock. Sam's cock. Teammate, buddy,
*guy* who's making yes sounds and more sounds and holding
Bobby's head down.

Not quite pushing, but close. And Bobby lets his cheeks
hollow. Sucks hard.  No idea what he's doing, no one's
done this for him before, nothing but fantasies and
Sam's leaking, so he licks, and Sam moaning his name is
so scary, so incredible. Does it again, and again. Works
up a rhythm of sucking and wild licking and doesn't
think, doesn't think at all.

Couldn't pulls his head up if he wanted to. Sam's grip like
death on him, hard physical version of that steady
*BobbyBobbyBobby*. Like if they could get the angle right
Sam would happily fuck him right down his throat.

This is just licking, though. Licking and sucking and
riding the twists of Sam's hips while he begs.

He's hard again. Not desperately, but enough that he's
noticing. Cock waking up, pulling towards his belly. Cold
from the room and warm from the air between him and Sam,
Bobby jerking back when he leans too close and his cock
brushes the couch's rough upholstery. His own little noise
to add to the ones he's already making around Sam's cock
and the loud, tangled mess of Sam's voice.

Sam's hand, closing around him and just gripping for a
minute.

His mouth on Sam, Sam's hand on him. They started here.
This is where they were going, before he freaked. Before
he jerked away and before they established that yes Sam's
done this before and no Bobby hasn't. When they were down
to just skin and teasing and getting Sam to make those
really wonderful noises. When Bobby was figuring out the
things that made Sam feel good.

Remembers this one, at least. His thumb dips into the drool
beside Sam's cock, rolls enough to get wet, and then dips
into Sam's navel. Shallow, yeah, but seriously in there,
moving enough that he knows Sam can feel it.  Pushing a
little until he gets the moan he's looking for.

And then sucking hard, playing with -- *fucking* -- Sam's
navel. He tastes so good. Skin and sweat and pre-come and
it's just all so *male*. No way at all to forget that
there's a guy under Bobby's mouth.

That Bobby's sucking him.

And that's, okay, horrifying, but also wonderful. Hard cock
wonderful, pumping into Sam's fist and fucking him with his
thumb and. Getting fucked.  Mouth wide open for it and Sam
doesn't need any coaxing at all.

Thrusting up and up, hitting the back of Bobby's throat
every few thrusts, and that's gonna be sore but it's also
making his eyes roll back in his  head. Good. So *good* and
--

"Bobby, oh Bobby can you take it?"

-- only half an idea what Sam's talking about until Sam
comes, right in his mouth, thick sticky and hot. Salty.
His come and Bobby coughs a little and swallows as much as
he can, abruptly just *greedy* for it. Sucking just the
head and getting his free hand wrapped around the base of
Sam's cock and *milking* him.

Squeezing and sucking and pushing and fucking until Sam
pushes him off.

Nearly falls off at that but holds on to the couch as the
only solid, sane thing in the universe.

Sam still holding him, but loosely now.

Broad, lazy smile on his face that Bobby's never seen
before. Has to just stare at it. Lick his tingling lips
and shudder at it, at the reason *why*, at the complete
lack of revocability here.

Cocksucker.

Blushes hard again and he's just about to pull away when
Sam curls up and wraps his arms around him. Kisses him,
tongue deep in Bobby's mouth.

Tasting himself.

Long, long kisses that make Bobby drowsy and horny at the
same time. Push-pushing into that loose fist, and not too
far from begging.

Staring into Sam's smile and feeling utterly incapable of
anything requiring more intellect, than, say, thrusting
his hips. Fuckdumb and useless, so of course Sam decides
to talk again.

"That was real good, Bobby... but what do you want?"

Manages a small moan, bites it off in his own lip --

"So sexy..."

And Sam's kissing him again, licking his lips and mouthing
him. Wet, messy kisses that don't speak of anything but
sex and Sam's hand slipping back to play with his balls.
Heft them, brush a thumb through the light dusting of hair.

"Want me to suck you?"

There aren't any words left in him when he tries to answer
that. Just whimpers and moans and shivers when Sam's thumb
brushes back farther to that very thin skin, just reaching
back.

Kiss that works his mouth open. God. Second kiss on his
forehead when he breaks if off.

Sam looks at him for a minute. Then gets both arms around
Bobby's shoulders and hauls him up. Onto the couch and
into Sam's lap. Arm around Sam's shoulders and just
*clinging*.

"Shhh. S'a bit much. Ah know. God, you're so fucking
*sexy*."

Which is just about as improbable a thing as anybody's ever
said to him, but at the moment it makes all the hair on his
arms and the back of his neck stand up. Makes him wiggle
deeper into Sam's lap. Get Sam's cock against his thigh.
Needs it there, even soft. This *guy* holding him.

Jerking him off. One pause while Sam brings the hand up to
his mouth, lays his tongue against his own palm, licks it
until it's just so *wet* Bobby can't believe it, and
gives it back to him. Wrapped around him like he thinks a
mouth would wrap around him, and even this is more attention
than he's ever had lavished on just him before. Mouthing all
over Sam's shoulder and chest while Sam works him.

"So sexy you're so pretty god I wanna fuck you love the
sounds you make c'mon Bobby let me hear you cry for me.
Feels good?"

Bobby whimpers. Sam's grip's like a wire running from
his cock into his belly, pulling hot, electric parts of
him loose. Jerking him and jerking him and it feels so
*good*, exactly what it should be. Pulls his hips after
it until he's wiggling frantically and only Sam's arm
around his shoulders is holding him down.

"Got the most amazing mouth wanna just shove myself down
your throat c'mere and kiss me again."

Open wide, just laid totally open, like there isn't
anything stopping the sound pouring out of his throat,
desperate almost crying sounds that he can't hang onto.
Feeling happy and -- sure, why the hell not -- sexy and
he *wants* this.

And Bobby just opens himself to it, lets his head fall back
and all the sounds are a little choked now, but that's how
he feels. Strangled with pleasure, hands wrapped around
Sam's biceps and just holding on while he rides it.

Rough Southern voice telling him it's okay, he likes it,
likes his hand on Bobby's hard cock. Hard for him and

"Oh, Bobby..."

Sudden bite to his throat and Bobby's coming hard. Splash
of it wet-hot on his belly and he can't even classify the
noise he makes.

Jerking to a halt finally and Sam lays them both down on
the couch. Moment to wonder about the picture they make,
but Bobby's so very much not here.  Maybe on the Bliss
Planet. Something like that. He can feel this huge, goofy
grin on his face.

Feels almost as good as Sam, so warm and solid and half on
top of him.  Playing with his hair.

Kissing him and grinning at him like a lunatic. Wow. Stupid
grin city.  Populated in its suburbs by small, oddly
non-uniform kisses. Soundtracked by some very serious CNN
anchor, because that's apparently what the TV switched to
last time the two of them rolled onto the remote. Which is
probably lost somewhere in the couch cushions now, and
possibly permanently.

Spots their reflection in the momentarily dark screen like
something as improbable as the news.  Waiting to be
revealed.
 

End

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