A/N writing this so something bad happens to me
I hope a car crashes into me at 100mph
"Ow!" Sam felt a moist, painful feeling on his butt. Waylon had bit him on the butt and Sam wanted to punch him.
Must resist.
Sam ignored Waylon as much as he could and continued to do his stuff. Getting no reaction from Sam, Waylon stopped biting his ass and stood up to see what Sam was so occupied on. "Some measly cake is all you care about? That shit looks like an inmate's last meal!"
Is that supposed to be a compliment? Y'know, like people always order fancy stuff when they're about to die.
Sam just ignored Waylon since everything he said would somehow end him up in bed. "Not talking to me anymore? Suit yourself." After that, Waylon left the kitchen and went back to the bedroom. The door aggressively slammed, sending echoes through the house.
"...This does look bad though." Sam felt revolted by his creation and left the rest of the monstrosity in the fridge to rot. For the rest of the night, Sam thought that it would be a great idea if he didn't go into Waylon's bedroom to sleep.
Waylon takes a long time to cool down and Sam knows it. After the distressing interaction, Sam did not feel a single bit of tiredness, shocked by the bite of course. But he wanted to save energy to face the next day, so, he decided to pick up some books that he found lying around the manor.
Waylon's taste in the category was so inadequate that it made Sam sleep on the floor. By what miracle, did Sam still wake up in Waylon's room. Waylon's alarm woke Sam up, but not the other one sleeping like a log.
He wouldn't know... Right?
Sam slapped Waylon for all the pain he inflicted then laid down as fast as he could with his eyes closed. "Wghat the-" Right after Sam went down, Waylon got up and looked around while holding his red cheek. His eyes went from the window to Sam, then the door.
Sam yawned and stretched as he got up, his eyes dizzy and hazy. "What happened?" Waylon felt suspicious but still told Sam. "Something hit me." It took Sam a pinch on his thigh to keep himself from smiling. "Oh." Sam got out of bed and slowly moved to the bathroom, misstepping to lose some suspicion.
Sam immediately chuckled to himself in the bathroom but when he saw himself, he thought he looked way too unsightly and stopped smiling like a madman. He did his morning routine, tidying up himself and getting ready for the day. Meanwhile, Waylon fell asleep again. Sam looked at him, then at the door.
"Hm..."
The door was left wide open, giving an easy escape. Sam raised his hand, gaining acceleration as his palm went down. However, he fell into a trap. Sam's wrist was locked in a strong grasp, his blood flow cutting off.
Waylon pulled Sam onto the bed, trapping Sam under and holding his wrist tightly with one hand while the other undoing all the clothing Sam had on. By now, his hand is turning purple slowly, and feeling numb. "That was dumb of you."
Waylon took off his pants too, holding his already hard morning wood, guiding it to Sam's hole. There was no lubrication so forcing it in would hurt both of them. Waylon freed Sam's hand, wanting to find lube. To prevent Sam from escaping, Waylon pressed Sam down by putting his knee and weight onto Sam's chest.
"Can't- breathe.." Sam scratched Waylon's thigh, leaving red streak marks. While searching for lube, Waylon didn't put his whole weight onto Sam, trying to keep minimum injuries. However, his center of gravity is off on the other side, causing Waylon to panic while trying to prevent himself from falling. His response was to push himself to the other side, stabilizing his balance.
