Trust me

By Alia

Disclaimer: Sam & Al are not mine, never will be; I didn't say they were.

Warning: This story is rated NC17 for M/M sex in loving and graphic detail. If it's not your cup of tea, then I suggest you leave now and don't look back.

Summary: Al talks Sam into playing a game.

Thanks: To PJ for betaing.

Authors Notes: No quantum physicists were harmed during the writing of this story. This is a pre leap story where Sam and Al have an established physical relationship. Move along if you were looking for something with a plot, you are not going to find one here. Australian spelling.

Comments: Are always welcome and can be sent to


Honestly, I don't know how I get myself into some of the situations I do. I could blame Al I guess, but I know it's not entirely his fault. Not really. Sure, my current position has a lot to do with him talking me into it, I muse as I absently test the strength my bonds, but I also know that I could have just said no when he first suggested this.

I groan at my own stupidity and loosen the grip I have on the cords Al has tied around each of my wrists and carefully looped over the bedposts above my head. It was pointless to struggle unless I actually meant to do something about my predicament. His makeshift restraints are not tight and if I really wanted to escape, I could. And, I remind myself, I hadn't said no when I'd been given my chance, and now in all fairness to Al, I had to either stop this before it went any further or do as I'd agreed.

Okay so what had I agreed to? Well to be truthful I was still a little cloudy on the details, but basically it was a game of trust; not that much different to the ones we had all played as children, I assumed.

Games are not usually my style, but of course that, Al had informed me, was part of my problem.

You're too serious, Sam, he'd said. Sure you think you know how to enjoy yourself. But you never just let loose. Trust me, he had gone on to say, we do this and I promise you kid, you'll thank me later.

I close my eyes and swallow over the lump that rises in my throat, more than a little amazed at how easy it had been for Al to talk me into this, recalling as my body responds to the memory that his promise had been whispered in the low husky voice he uses when he wants his own way.

Oh yes, I am very aware that the game Al intends for us to play includes a little more than just holding hands. God, if his sultry invitation to let him take care of everything hadn't given him away, the fact that I was not only tied to his bed, but also completely naked was a dead give away.

Thinking about it now though, I wonder what else I might be thanking Al for. Despite the lingering warmth of his hands I am starting to feel a little cold and no matter what else he has in mind for me, I don't think catching pneumonia had been a part of his plans for me tonight. I am curious to find out what they are however, and in spite of my reservations I am willing to see just how he thought he was going to teach me to let loose.

I hear the sound of the shower stop in the adjoining bathroom before my imagination can conclude calculating the many possibilities of Al's game and I open my eyes again as the door swings opens and my lover appears, preceded by a large cloud of steam.

Dressed in nothing but a towel Al pauses briefly in the doorway to regard me and to finish drying his hair, his mouth curving into an appreciative grin as eyes meet.

"I was just thinking about you." I tell him for want of something better to say, heat rising in my cheeks as I take in the full sight of my lover.

The towel he has slung around his hips is obviously damp and outlines his trim physique perfectly, leaving very little to the imagination.

Al finishes with his hair while I admire the view. Still grinning broadly as he ducks back into the bathroom, he reappears a moment later to switch off the light and then crosses the room to stand beside where I am lying.

Without any actual physical help from the other, both Al and I are already at state of semi arousal and I find myself turning a deep shade of red as he smiles down at me, his eyes travelling from my face to my groin and back again.

"Yeah, and what were you thinking?" Al finally inquires, knowing, I am convinced, just what has been on my mind while I have been waiting for him.

"I was wondering what you had in store for me," I reply, tugging at my bonds to emphasize my position. If Al's intention was to have me at his mercy then I could certainly play that part of his game without any guidance what so ever.

Al's smile fades at my answer; surprising me as his expression becomes serious. "You trust me don't you?" he asks as he makes space for himself on the bed and then reaches over to stroke my face with the back of his hand.

"You know I do," I whisper, turning to kiss his fingers as they slide across my lips. "I love you," I add without thought. The words still feel strange to say aloud but as always they have the same affect on both of us.

Al holds my eyes for another moment after that, a moment during which I can see my entire world reflected in his loving gaze, but then his mouth replaces his fingers and he kisses me soundly -- filling me with warmth and a level of desire that I didn't even know existed until the first time we were together like this.

I feel myself harden further as the kiss goes on and I try to reciprocate as best I can while Al carefully maps the contours of my face, shoulders and chest. It's no use though, I can only move so far before I am stopped. I groan my frustration, unsure if I could actually go through with this if I couldn't touch him.

Always sensitive to my needs and comfort Al backs off as I begin to struggle under his attention.

"I know you love me," he pants. "But loving someone and trusting them are two different things, Sam. I need you to be clear about that." Al's face is flushed, his lips still moist from our kiss and I find it difficult to discern where this sudden seriousness is coming from when I can feel the heat of his arousal pressing against my hip.

I lay very still for a moment, watching Al as he watches me, just trying to understand. I was missing something about all of this, and yet I couldn't quite work out what it was. Al had asked me if I would let him tie me up and even though he had used less than fair tactics to get his way, I couldn't say that I didn't know what I was getting myself into. This was Al after all. We had known each other for many years before we'd finally become lovers and over time we have experimented like most couples do. Okay, so nothing like tying each other up before, but like Al is always telling me, variety is the spice of life. If he wanted to try something new then I could at least give him his chance.

"I trust you," I say, forcing myself to relax again. It was the only way; I realised, to prove myself.

It is difficult to say if Al is convinced or not. He doesn't give a lot a way when he is planning something and now is no different. He simply stares at me with a look of patience that I have come to understand can only be learned over many years of forced captivity -- waiting, I decide for me to tense up again. It is harder than I imagined it would be, but somehow I manage to remain perfectly still under Al's scrutiny until finally he takes me at my word.

Leaning closer, he kisses me again, gently this time but with no less passion, his lips and tongue painting a trail that reignites the heat in my loins as he stretches out beside me. Using one hand to support the back of my head I feel the other slip within the scant space between us to ease the towel away and then finally the warmth and familiar weight of his erection against my leg.

My first thought is to roll towards Al so that I can enjoy the unique sensation of his hard on against something other than my leg, but he is even more intuitive than usual and all movement stops until I close my eyes and force myself to simply take pleasure in his touch.

It isn't easy.

I take a deep breath and let it out slowly, shaking from the effort as Al picks up where he left off, once again taking full possession of my body with his usual ease and confidence. His free hand slowly snaking its way from the very neutral territory of my abdomen to the already waking nubs on my chest, toying with each in turn while his lips begin a new path, retracing their earlier exploration until I can feel the moist tip of his tongue gently probing the underside of my ear. I gasp and arch my back as far as my restraints and the weight of Al's arm will allow as teeth that I know are neither meant to harm nor mark me permanently bite down on the tender flesh and he suddenly, mercilessly tugs at one of my now very erect nipples, the twin sensation going straight to my groin.

"Do you want some help?" Al whispers, his breath seeding a wave of warm air over my ear and a reverberating chill down my spine.

I have no idea what he has in mind at this point. I am shaking like a leaf, my hands have curled with an accord of their own into fists above my head, and I can barely think beyond the fact that if he doesn't give me something to hold on to I am going to fly apart. I am open to suggestions however. "Turning the lights off might help," I manage without opening my eyes.

"Sorry, kid, can't help you there."

I am disappointed, but am not given even a moment to recover, or to wonder why Al would offer me something and then refuse it. I grit my teeth as he twists the small, hyper-sensitive nub on my chest once more before he finally releases it and then I am quite literally forced to bit back a moan to stop myself from voicing my relief when he moves down my body to sooth the molested area with his tongue.

Unclenching and re-clenching my fists doesn't help, my own erection twitches with a mind of it's own, begging for attention when he continues lower, laying yet another trail of wet kisses down to my navel and just below it while his hand moves to spread my legs a little further and to caress the very sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh. I don't know what is worse. The thought that I had agreed to this or the realisation that if I could just let go of the idea that I should be doing more than I am, I would be enjoying Al's game very much.

I know that he had intended that I enjoy tonight, and I certainly couldn't say that I wasn't so far, but I wonder if a part of his plan was for me to be totally debauched in the process. I feel very indulged as he moves over me and yet oddly removed from something I had always considered myself an active participant in.

The bed dips as I feel Al back off suddenly and I open my eyes again to see my naked and very aroused lover crossing the bedroom to the closet on the far wall. It occurs to me to ask him what he is doing and why he wouldn't at least lower the lights, but both questions become unnecessary as he apparently finds what he was searching for and he turns to face me, one of his brightly coloured ties held loosely between his hands.

Don't ask me how I know that he wants to use the wider than what is currently fashionable tie as a blindfold, it just seems the logical conclusion to make and knowing Al as I do, it is the most obvious given my position. I am not sure how I feel about it though. Despite trusting him with everything from my Project to secrets about myself that I have never shared with anyone else, I feel more vulnerable now than at any other time we have made love, and I don't know if I think making me more so is going to help or not.

It is clearly something that is not up for discussion though, because no sooner has Al produced his make shift blindfold he is straddling my hips and carefully fastening it in place. The heat and very welcome weight of his length sliding up and down my stomach and chest as he makes every effort to ensure to that I am both comfortable, and the tie is secure, ultimately drives any thoughts of objecting to this new element of his game from of my mind.

"Better?" he asks as his hands come to rest on and gently massage my shoulders.

I nod, my cheeks heating once more as I imagine the sight I must make right now. Bound and blindfolded.

"Good." I hear Al reply.

I cannot see the look of satisfaction that my acceptance of this gives him or the glint of appreciation in his eyes as he smiles down at me, but I know they are there as surely as I know that I am safe -- that there is a reason behind all of this, and if I just let myself relax, let Al do what he clearly thinks I need, then all will be revealed to me in time.

Surprisingly, or perhaps not under the circumstances, the loss of vision is more helpful than I would have thought. It is almost as if not being able to see makes me more aware of Al's touch, taste and scent and it is that I focus on when he stretches out on top of me, my legs spread and my knees drawn up to cradle his body to my own while he kisses me again.

Clearly a man on a mission; Al's hands are incredibly warm as he cups both sides of my face; carefully angling me to his satisfaction, his mouth hungry as he all but devours me and then goes to work on my throat giving me a chance to catch my breath while his erection, hot and sticky now with the proof of his desire for this, for me, finally comes into contact with my own. The relief it offers is indescribable. Heady and oh so good as he moves against me, that all I can think is that I want more.

I have never felt comfortable voicing exactly what I want when Al and I are together, or with any other lover for that matter. I can't explain why, it has always been easier just to guide my partner's hands to where I want their attention most. Now though, I have no choice than to respond the only way I can, whimpering when he pulls away again and moaning when I feel him kneel between my thighs to finally take me in hand.

From Al's very vocal encouragement it seems to be exactly the reaction he had been waiting for.

"Yes," he urges. "Tell me?"

I shake my head no, caught between the almost too slow glide of his hand up and down my length and the bonds that don't allow me to move the way I want to right now.

"You have to tell me, Sam," Al reiterates immediately, his words sending a warm breathe of imminent promise across my straining erection when he suddenly lets go of me again.

Behind my blindfold I struggle to stay calm, to not cry out at the unfairness of his teasing or the sheer agony that not being able to touch him has become.

I can still feel Al leaning tantalizingly close to my groin and in my minds eyes I imagine him bending down just a little more, his lips and tongue following the path of his fingers, but for the life of me I can't tell him that is what I want -- for him to take me in his mouth and to end my torment. I squeeze my eyes closed, frustrated beyond clear thought as I thrust my hips forward, silently begging him to understand.

If the chuckle that follows my less than subtle hint is anything to judge by, it seems that Al does understand my plea. However, the careful rearrangement of both our positions tells me he isn't quite ready to fulfill my request just yet.

"You're going to have to do better than that," he informs me.

I want to tell Al that I can't, that he is asking me to do something that I am just not comfortable with, but the words necessary to do so prove as elusive to me as the actual reasons why.

It cannot be more than a minute or so until he settles again. He is quiet now, but from the way he has been moving around and the sound of the drawer beside the bed being opened and closed, I know Al has retrieved the small bottle of lube we use sometimes. I can feel the familiar shape of its cool exterior resting conveniently against my hip, and the thought that he has already coated his fingers and is, given the unmistakable change in his breathing, his own erection, sends a shudder of anticipation through my entire body. The memory of the last time he had taken me awakening the most intimate of cravings within me. My knees fall a part of their accord and my own breathing catches as I let the idea of submitting completely to him take hold.

I sense rather than see the look of concentration on my lover's face as touches himself and all my suspicions regarding what he has been doing are confirmed as he finally finishes with his preparations and presses closer to carefully raise one of my legs to his shoulder. His hands are slick with the telltale use of lube, smooth to the touch as they glide over my over heated body.

"How ya going?" he asks, one hand sliding from rump to knee to anchor my leg in place while the other strokes lazily along the sensitive area of my inner thigh.

I nod that I am okay, but only just. My mouth is too dry to answer, my mind too full of what I anticipate Al will do next to think about anything else. It has been a long time since we have been able to indulge as intimately as we have tonight and the reality of it, along with the slow drawn out pace of his game is steadily becoming too much for me.

I am also shaking again, and the insidious slide of his mouth over my inside of my leg followed by the sharp edge of his teeth as he bites down on the tender flesh makes it near on impossible to simply relax as I know he wants me to. I gasp, shocked by the pain caused by his less than gentle treatment and the unexpected jolt of pleasure that travels straight to my groin.

"You like that?"

I am not sure that I do, but I give another quick nod, just trying to catch my breath as he repeats the maneuver. I have never understood how anyone could derive pleasure from pain and yet the way my erection jerks and my body begs for more I can't deny it certainly demanded some investigation. Al's hands are almost hot to the touch, burning me with each carefully thought out stroke and caress.

I close my eyes again, panting as I feel his free hand leave my thigh to trace the tip of my badly neglected length, spreading the moisture gathering there before he moves lower to map the prominent vain on the underside and to fondle the tightly drawn up sack nestled beneath it.

"This looks painful," he remarks, gently lifting and rolling my testicles. "I guess I really should do something about it, Sam."

I don't comment, either physical or verbally. Al has always been a terrible tease; thankfully he has also always known when enough is enough. I sigh as he releases me and note the presence of one of his blunt fingers moving along the thin line of my perineum to gently work the exposed entrance to my body.

My body, along with Al it seems, to know exactly what I want and I open easily to him as he pushes slowly inside of me. It is not enough though. Stopping at what I can imagine is the first knuckle on his index finger; he simply holds the position for a moment and then withdraws again. After so long it feels more like torture than the release he keeps promising me and the next time I feel him press inward, I bear down, trapping him before he can pull away.

"You have to tell me." I am warned. Al's tone is as firm and demanding as his hands now, giving me no reason to doubt that he won't just withdraw again if I do not do as he asks.

I squeeze my eyes closed, beads of sweat rolling unchecked down my trembling limbs. It feels like surrender, like giving up what little control I have, but as I relax the muscles holding Al captive I do manage a single word.

"More," I choke, a little taken back by the sound of my own voice. At how alien a solitary word becomes when it has been dragged from a place inside of me I have never let myself, or anyone else for that matter, explore.

My reward is instantaneous though, and instead of pulling back Al probes mercifully deeper.

"More what?"

Anyone who has ever spent any time with him knows how very insistent Al can be when he wants to be. Even before I can consider my answer I feel him rising to his knees and pulling the leg he has lifted to his shoulder up higher as he works for more leverage; his handling bordering on just this side of rough as he alternates between sucking and biting the tender skin on my inner thigh and forcing his finger deeper inside of me. It is difficult to decide which sensation is more maddening and after all the mystery surrounding tonight I finally understand that this is what he meant about teaching me to let loose.

Years of almost silent participation is not easily put aside however, and it takes a considerable amount of effort to force exactly what I want to say past dry lips.


Just as before, Al reacts immediately to my request and I note the very welcome brush of his finger across my prostate at the same moment his mouth closes over the head of my engorged length. My back arches, my cry of relief completely lost in amongst the long drawn out moans of approval I set free as my body finds its breaking point and I pour myself down his throat.

I am still riding the wave of ultimate release when one finger becomes two and two is just quickly replaced with three. I feel stretched to capacity, barely able to breathe, or to think above the pounding of my heart. Somewhere between the beginning of my climax and the inevitable after shocks that follow I register Al's weight pressing me down, both my knees forced flush against my chest and the very real presence of his erection easing into my body.

There is no way to stop the flood of exclamations that are quite literally torn from me as Al takes full possession of both my body and soul, nor do I make any attempt to stop them. It is hot and hard. No careful trial thrusts. Fully seated he sets a pace, that I only realise some time later, is designed to prize loose any and all inhibitions. My position doesn't allow for control of any kind and sounds and words that were once foreign or at least had previously been carefully tucked away, overflow, joining the ones made by my very vocal and very appreciative lover.

I have already come, but my body doesn't seem to care or notice, my erection has never quite been given a chance to diminish and remains trapped against my stomach throughout the act of devotion and endurance that takes place next; my prostate repeatedly stimulated to the point where I am sure I am going to pass out as Al's thrusts steadily become no more than a series of sharp jabs.

Somehow, God only knows how, I manage to not only stay conscious but to also match Al as he peaks and lets go - a joint cry of triumph resounding off the walls of his quarters as we reach the precipice and fall over the edge simultaneously. I am hoarse by the time I feel him pull back and collapse at my side. My world has narrowed down to just the two of us, just the beating of each heart and the bed holding us safe against all else.

Despite the fact that I have never felt so exhausted or completely sated I am still trembling a little when I feel Al reach over to push my blindfold up. Kissing me gently he moves then to release my arms and to guide them around his neck and shoulders. I don't think either of us have enough energy to speak, but it doesn't matter I decide as I bury my face against his chest, just being able to hold him is all I could ever ask for.

Eventually fatigue and a growing need to clean up demand that Al and I separate. It is difficult to express how totally amazed I am by tonight, how by knowing me and loving me so well he has given me a gift far more valuable than gold.



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