11.Where There’s Steam

11. Where There’s Steam

Samson and I crash into the living room, mouths joined together as we lose all patience and start ripping off each other’s clothes. Happy to get my hands on him, everything goes fine until a throat clears.

My gaze darts over Samson's shoulder to find my roommate perched on his imitation leather couch. An amused grin spreads across his face as he lifts an eyebrow, an open book forgotten in his hands. "Would you two like some privacy?"

A flush creeps up my cheeks. "Yes please," I reply.

Samson's response lacks any semblance of politeness. "Get out."

Perry looks amused as he scolds, "Would it kill you to say please?"

"Please get the fuck out," Samson growls.

Oh my god, he has no manners. I step in front of Samson and try to smooth things over.

"What he means is, is it possible we could have the apartment pretty please? We’re asking nicely.” I cast a sharp look over my shoulder. “And not ordering since this is your apartment where you pay rent, and I just crash on the couch.”

Perry chuckles as he rises from the couch. "You know what? I'm just gonna go and you can fill me in later."

As soon as he leaves, I turn to face Samson. He sheepishly scratches the back of his neck. "Sorry. Didn't know this was his place."

"You wouldn't have been so bossy if you did know?"

He thinks about that for a moment. "At least I didn't set him on fire?"

Oh my god. As soon as our eyes meet, we start laughing. That was awkward. Not quite sure how to get things back on track, I look at Samson and realize his shirt is off.

Black lines twist across his skin, forming designs that swirl down his arms and chest. His sculpted chest has fewer tattoos though the space is slowly filling up. He's gorgeous and I'm drawn to the marks on his skin.

I reach out to trace the patterns. Some designs look geometric, some almost tribal, while a few resemble abstract creatures. The designs are blacker than regular tattoo ink, almost like they were burned onto his flesh. With firebrands, that might be the case.

“Did these hurt?” I wonder. My fingers graze along the lines etched onto his biceps.

“Nah," he says. "I can safely touch fire and have it on my body when using fire magic. Us magical pyros write or draw things on our skin, hoping the fire will touch the marks and offer to make them permanent. I’ve seen people with the signature of a loved on them and even doodles. No idea why the fire wants some designs to last and not others. There’s a tingle on the skin over where I inked something, and I know all I have to do is let the fire work and it will become permanent.”

He never stops intriguing me. Samson always wears tank tops that show off the tattoos on his arms. Proud of the marks fire and magic gave him. It's downright distracting, and I love being able to finally feel the designs under my hands.

“I like getting marks from the fire," he murmurs gently. "I might not ever be worthy of a brand but at least I can have this.”

“You’ll get there,” I promise.

Perry being home when we came in slowed us down but didn't stop us completely. My hands keep moving along his skin as he talks about how he received these lovely fire-gifted tattoos. I feel his muscles twitch under my fingers, and he drags in a sharp breath when my hands slide down his sides.

I make a mental note to do something nice for Perry later since we kicked him out. Then I turn my attention back to where it belongs, the man in front of me.

"Where were we?" I whisper, bringing my lips closer to his.

"Let me remind you."

He joins our lips and his hand glides along the scales on my right side. Our kiss heats up as his tongue slides into my mouth, and things are just getting good again when he laughs.

That’s… not what I expected.

He immediately pulls back and gives me a worried look. “Sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I swear. Just got surprised. I didn’t know your scales would feel cold.”

“Oh, that’s okay." I breathe out a sigh of relief. "I’m guessing you’ve never been with someone with scales before. As long as you don’t find me hideous or something, it’s fine.”

He smirks. “Been half hard since you started touching my tattoos, and I'm trying to get you naked. What about that says hideous?”

Good answer.

“My scales may be cool, but I’d rather heat things up. Can you help me with that?”

Samson pounces on me, and our mouths find each other urgently. We don’t even drop down onto the couch, we just stand there, half trying to finish undressing and half needing to taste and touch each other. His hands rove across my skin like wildfire, leaving me burning with need in their wake.

His tongue darts out to tease my lips as he unzips my jeans and a hand snakes into my pants. It's no surprise Samson is a man of action. One hand tugs my pants and underwear down impatiently while the other wraps around my cock without beating around the bush.

"Mmm, keep going." I moan into his mouth and surrender to everything he makes me feel as his hand works against me.

When it’s my turn, I take a slightly different approach as I slowly peel his pants down his legs, letting him feel the fabric and my knuckles drag against as his skin. I palm him through his boxers. Samson's hands stutter and his breathing hitches. I repeat the motion until he groans and his cock jumps in response.

"Hold on." He pulls back, sinking onto the couch and away from me. For a moment, I worry I’ve done something wrong. Samson scratches the back of his neck. “To be honest, we're probably lucky I didn’t set anything on fire when I yelled at your roommate.”

“It’s fine. Perry won’t take that personally, trust me.” Why is he worrying about that right now? Then I see the nervous expression on his face. “Are you having second thoughts?” I remember that he worried about doing this and losing control. “Do you never… do this?”

“Uh, depends on what you mean. I can get off without an issue. My control doesn't waver, even during, not when I'm alone or with strangers. With you… you aren’t a stranger." His eyes are soft and concerned when they finally rise to mine. "What if things get out of control? I don’t want to burn you."

My heart seizes in my chest at how he talks about me, like I mean something to him. But I can't dwell on that, not when he looks vulnerable and uncertain, and now I want to jump on him and cuddle him at the same time.

“Can you trust me?” I whisper. “Because I can handle the heat.”

“I think so.” He looks at me for a single moment and then nods swiftly, decision made. “Yeah, I trust you.”

God, he said it so fast, like he already trusts me and just had to realize it for himself, it's amazing.

I lean down, put my hands on either side of his face and pull him into me, kissing the hell out of him. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin. He grabs my hips and pulls me into his lap so I'm straddling him.

We manage to lose the rest of our clothes as things heat up between us. It’s around when I feel him go from half hard to fully hard that he has to pull his mouth away from mine. “Give me a minute.”

I’ve seen Samson lose control a few times and I’m not sure if he’s really at that point or he’s just being cautious. I understand his concern. I don’t want a raging inferno on my hands either but maybe what we need isn’t to be ready to put out any fires. What about a controlled burn?

Running my hands over the tattoos on his arms, I get an idea. “Fire gave you these, right? Could you release the flames?”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “Argyle, what—”

“Just here, just on your tattoos?”

Samson nods and I lean back to give him some room.

Samson closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, tiny flames flicker to life on his skin, dancing along the intricate lines of his tattoos. I watch mesmerized as the fire traces along the patterns etched into his flesh. It's a beautiful sight, the flames caressing his skin rather than burning it.

The fire dances and flickers along his tattoos, glowing with a weak orange light, reminding me of a candle's glow. Not too hot, yet their heat is still palpable since I'm nearby and perched on his lap.

"That doesn't hurt, right?" It doesn't look like the flames on his skin cause him any pain, but I need to confirm it.

"No, I'm good. Given that I've never tried this with an erection before, I can't promise anything about keeping the flames from hurting you if you touch them. They feel good to me."

The flames seem like a natural extension of him, but I can tell he's holding back. Keeping the flames low and controlled, trying to keep them from getting too close to me. I can help with that.

Slowly, I lift my hands and summon a gentle mist. The cool droplets hover in the air for a moment before I direct them towards Samson's arms.

As the mist touches the flames, they hiss and sputter, steam rising in wispy tendrils. Anywhere the flames still burn, I apply a targeted drizzle until only smoke remains.

Our powers ended up producing smoke a few times on accident, but since smoke is what I'm aiming for this time, I'm happy to see it.

Though it isn't quite smoke. My water and his flames aren't as concentrated this time and don't react as forcefully as they did on the air hockey table, creating a gentle steam instead of a heavy smoke.

I run my hands over Samson's arms, his skin slick from the steamy mist we created.

Samson lets out a shuddering breath. "Whoa."

"It feels good?" I ask softly, tracing the lines of his tattoos again. I feel the warmth on his skin turn cool as I drag my slick fingers against him.

"Amazing," he murmurs. I feel his hard cock jump and spurt a few drops of pre-cum where it leaks against my thigh.

I direct the lingering steam, trying to spread it towards his chest when Samson shakes his head. "No, hold on. You gotta… gotta feel this too."

This time, Samson lets a single flame flicker from the tip of one finger. He holds it closer to the skin of my collarbone, demonstrating and letting me feel the heat, but he waits until I send water flowing down my chest. He lets the heat collide with the water, letting the flame fizzle out and steam, then brings his hands down over my chest.

"Oh my god," I gasp.

I'm not sure if it's ordinary steam or a mix of steam, magic, and us. Whatever it is, the hot and cool sensation feels incredible on my skin.

"Mmm." I bite my lips as Samson's fingers trace the steamy mist around my nipples. "Who knew? Turns out our powers canceling each other out has a use after all. Ohhh…" I moan when Samson adds his tongue and licks the slick droplets on my chest. "A really, really good use."

"If only we figured it out sooner, we could have been doing this all along."

"Might have been too much of a good thing. We did need to get some studying done first."

Samson adjusts us so he can rub his cock against mine, making us both groan. "I know you're probably right about that, I just don't care right now." He rocks his hips and I totally agree. We should have been doing this all along, and I plan to make up for lost time.

We work together to generate as much steam swirling between our bodies as possible. The sensation of our mingled magics is extraordinary.

"God Samson," I murmur. I can't see the room around us, can't even see the couch as the steam swirls. But I can see him, see how his eyes are heated and burn into me like low simmering coals.

"Yeah," he grunts. "What do you want?"

"Let's come just like this."

Our hard cocks rut together as we move against each other in a steady rhythm. Every movement sends sparks of pleasure through me. I know Samson feels it too from the way his fingers dig into my hips, the heat of his touch searing my cool flesh.

"You feel incredible," I moan.

"Fuck, Argyle… You're driving me wild."

"Samson," I murmur, my hands gripping his muscled shoulders. "I need… please."

Samson wraps a hand around our cocks, hand moving firmly as we work our hips. Each stroke sends bolts of ecstasy skyrocketing up my spine, leaving me gasping and begging for more.

"Yes," I gasp. "Please, Samson. I can't…"

"Shh." His lips find mine, cutting off my words with a desperate kiss. Our tongues dance together in a frenzy as the steam rises higher around us.

"Close, I'm gonna…"

"Argyle," he whispers against my lips. "Come with me, Argyle."

His free hand traces a warm trail of heat down my back. His thumb reaches down and circles my hole, teasing me with the promise of more.

"Sorin!" Heat floods through my body as my climax takes over while I cling to Samson, to Sorin. I think using his first name pushes him over the edge with me.

I collapse against him, resting my head on Samson's chest, listening as the rapid thud of his heart turns steady. The swirling mist caresses us gently as we catch our breaths and dissipates slowly. It leaves behind a bit of a chill, but he wraps me securely in his arms and warms me right up.

When I raise my head to look at him, Samson's gaze seems distant, lost in thought.

"What are you thinking about so hard?" I place a hand on his cheek, trying to get his attention.

"Nothing…" He sighs. "I try hard to keep myself from feeling anything, from going overboard. Meaningless hook ups are perfect for me. They scratch an itch but don't risk me losing control."

"Is that what this is?" I wonder quietly. My hand slips down from his face, and he grabs it with his own.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he promises quietly, yet intently. "Wherever this leads, I'm less afraid when you're there with me. I can't hide from emotions or anything that could become serious forever. I have to face it sometime and learn to balance my emotions and powers."

"Sounds smart."

“Guess I have a good tutor."

He gently strokes my hair, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of my head. We lay there, entwined on the couch until we doze off to sleep in each other's arms.