Author: Human Part VII PM
Ferguson/Sam. Who knows how I came up with this one...Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance - Words: 1,505 - Reviews: 40 - Favs: 5 - Published: 06-08-02 - id: 824631
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
By: Human Part VII
Thought I'd post something I made as a present for a friend of mine.
At about 12:40 that night, Sam had seen Ferguson's light on, and he decided to climb up into his window instead of Clarrisa's for once. Clarissa had her lights off while she used her computer, but Sam didn't know any better and assumed she was asleep. Sam felt vaguely as if he'd slipped into another dimension, but he didn't care if he did.
Ferguson spoke to him uneasily, "Sam! Er... wrong window!" He hissed as Sam slowly climbed up the old painter's ladder. About half way up, Sam tried to remain as relaxed as possible.
"Clarissa's asleep, I don't want to bother her..." He looked up into Ferguson's eyes and saw him shiver lightly. Ferguson had no idea what was happening, but let him up anyway.
The tone in Ferguson's voice was slightly panicked that night, as if he were nervous about him being there. Sam would never think this, but it was totally understandable for Ferguson to be self-conscious. In Ferguson's eyes, Sam was the most socially together teenage male he knew. Okay, so Sam was a little eccentric, but that was what made him so charming.
He just described Sam as charming, he realized. He shot an uncomfortable glance at Sam as he made his way through the windowsill onto Ferguson's carpet. Sam stood up and stared at him, and Ferguson felt chills running down his spine and his knees growing weak.
Ferguson was vaguely alarmed at himself. He saw Sam take off his jacket and boots. He had on a thin white tee-shirt and pajama bottoms. A very thin tee-shirt, Ferguson realized. He could make out every detail of Sam's torso through the shirt. For a split second the thought of Sam with no shirt on ran through the other man's head. Ferguson mentally slapped himself and broke the stare abruptly enough to be noticed.
"What?" Sam asked lightly.
"Nothing! What are you doing in my room?" He tried to sound as demanding as he could while whispering.
"I just told you, Clarissa's asleep, your window was open, and I'm bored and can't sleep. So, I came to see you instead..." He gave a little shrug and flopped down onto Ferguson's bed. He tucked his arms behind his head and an expression spread on his face just innocent enough to make Ferguson very uncomfortable.
"Aren't there any other houses on the block you can climb into to entertain yourself? I'm studying here!" He tried to make his voice sound angry, but he was a horrible liar.
Sam pretended to seem surprised. "I... I'm sorry." He backpedaled. He sat up and stiffened a little. "I figured you wouldn't care. I mean, I'm just sitting here. If you want me to leave--"
"No..!" Ferguson cut him off. The lie must have worked.
"So, you want me to stay, then?" Sam let himself relax again.
"...Fine. But keep it down." Ferguson warned. He sat back down at his desk and tried to make it look like he was studying. It was getting late, Ferguson realized. About fifteen minutes later, Sam noticed his eyes drifting close and then snapping open. Ferguson did this in a series of intervals. During one of these intervals while Ferguson's eyes were closed, Sam quietly walked up behind him.
"Ferguson?" Sam whispered a little closer to Ferguson's ear than needed. Ferguson jolted up as if a drill sergeant were screaming at him.
Ferguson turned in his seat and looked up at Sam. Ferguson's hair was mused his pale face began to turn pink. Sam tried to make himself sound as matter-of-fact as possible.
"The color in your face when you blush kind of matches with the color of your hair and freckles..." Sam trailed off. Ferguson obviously hadn't seen this coming at all, and therefore had no way to respond to that. He held perfectly still.
"...Why are you really here, Sam?" Ferguson dared to ask, nervousness twisting the boy's voice.
Sam gently ignored the question and bent down, coming closer to Ferguson's face. He desperately held on to the nonchalant tone he always had.
"...And your eyelashes are the same color as your hair... Huh." He noted, almost to himself. Ferguson finally remembered from hearing the comment about his eyelashes that he hadn't been blinking, and allowed himself to do so. He heard Sam whisper, "And your lips match all of it."
Sam ventured even closer, their faces inches apart. Ferguson's lips were slightly parted, and Sam could hear him lightly gasping for air though the intensity of the situation. Sam gingerly reached out and took Ferguson's chin in his hand, tiling the other boy's head up so their eyes met.
Ferguson involuntarily reached out and turned out the small lamp on his desk, leaving them completely in the dark, still looking up into Sam's eyes as he turned off the light. He felt the other boy's breath on him. He went towards it as if it were his only source of warmth, and their mouths met. He let out a little groan as the other boy's tongue slipped in to his mouth for a few seconds. He realized he felt almost eager to have him do this, and gently returned the motion, feeling slightly inadequate from his own personal lack of experience. Sam seemed to enjoy it though, sighing deeply through his nose.
Ferguson broke off the kiss, panting lightly. He got the nerve to stand up, and Sam wrapped his arms around Ferguson's waist. Sam's arms felt as if they were burning holes through Ferguson's pajamas. The two of them shot a glance to Ferguson's bed through the darkness.
"I've never..." Ferguson trailed off into Sam's left ear.
Sam giggled in a low voice. "Neither have I... Do you want to wait..?"
"Well, no." He sighed, a little frustration edging into his voice. "...but we should wait."
"All right." Sam agreed.
"I don't want you to leave, though..." Ferguson complained. Sam was at a loss for words for a few seconds.
"Do you want me to lay down with you for a little while?" Sam asked softly, rubbing the other boy's back gently through the flannel covering it.
"I... All right." He agreed. Sam led him by the hand to his bed. The two got very comfortable and very affectionate.
Then they got into a discussion.
"It makes no sense to me." Sam thought aloud. He lay on Ferguson's immaculate bedroom in the dark. Ferguson's body rested on his. It was about three in the morning.
"Becoming a multi-millionaire is not a bad idea." Ferguson explained with a deep sigh. His voice in a hurried, intense whisper. "Not when you plan things out properly, anyway. I just need to devise a plan. It might take several years, but with age comes wisdom, and I'll be well prepared for my role in history." He finished.
"You just don't get it, do you?" Sam murmured into the other boy's ear. "Nothing you do will ever work if you try to use it for completely selfish ends."
Ferguson lifted his head off Sam's chest and stared up into his eyes though the darkness. His soft expression turned into one of contempt. "Oh, please. You just told me entire friendship with Clarissa was for your own benefit to get to me. Admit it. You're more of a slug than I'll ever be."
"Maybe. But in that case, I did it for you... So I'm not contradicting myself." Sam countered with a smile. They laughed quietly at each other in the dark.
"I've told you about my plans for life, but you never told me yours..." Ferguson mused.
"I have no idea what I'm going to do with the rest of my life." Sam answered. Ferguson reached up and ran his fingers through Sam's hair in the darkness.
"You don't need any direction in your life." Ferguson whispered. Sam agreed with him, perhaps the best direction was no direction at all.
Meanwhile, Clarrisa Darling sat in her room. She looked up towards the wall she talked to. The wall that was her closest friend, the one wall she could speculate to about all her problems with her friends and family. She knew exactly what had just happened, and all she managed to say to her wall was "Well... do you guys know what to make of this one?"
She looked slightly troubled, delicate eyebrows knotted together. She then went back to typing, feeling a little annoyed that the wall never spoke back to her.