Candy Hearts, Vol. 2

Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

SAM

Oscar had gone to a lot of trouble to make this date happen. To make it special. And Sam wasn’t sure what that said about the minimal effort of the people he’d dated before, but they didn’t matter anymore. No one did. Only Oscar.

The food was good and they had no shortage of things to talk about. They talked about movies and music and pet peeves. Oscar hated it when people were late. Sam argued that wasn’t exactly a pet peeve, that was being justifiably angry when people disrespected your time. Sam said his pet peeve was people who didn’t read instructions.

Oscar cleared their plates when they were done eating and came back carrying two champagne flutes full of something fizzy looking.

“If that’s alcohol…” Sam started to explain that he couldn’t drink while on his medication. Not if he wanted it to keep working the way it was intended to work.

“It’s just soda. Ginger ale, actually.” Oscar blushed. “I thought we could toast.”

Sam stood and took the glass from Oscar. “To what are we toasting?”

He moved in closer, stepping carefully around Ace, who had fallen asleep on the job. Ace wasn’t on duty the way he was out in public. Tonight, he was just a dog and Sam was just a guy. A guy who desperately wanted this date to be far from over.

“To a successful second date. To the promise of many more.”

Oscar’s confidence shone through and Sam liked all the versions of Oscar. Overwhelmed and fumbling Oscar was just as attractive to him as self-assured Oscar. Just as alluring as Oscar with his arousal written on his face. Sam tracked the way Oscar’s tongue skated along his lower lip as if he were inviting Sam to do the same with his.

“To a successful second date. And the promise of more.” Sam clinked his glass against Oscar’s then took a sip.

The song changed again. All the songs on Oscar’s playlist had been love songs. Sam hadn’t known most of them, but this next one was familiar. He put his glass down and held his hand out to Oscar. “Dance?”

“Here?” Oscar looked around. “There’s not a lot of room,” he said even as he stepped into his space.

Sam looped his arms around Oscar’s neck. A giddy thrill went through him when Oscar put his hands on Sam’s hips.

“It’s not like we’re going to quickstep or foxtrot. This is nice.” They swayed back and forth like the way two high school kids would do at a dance.

“I’m not a very good dancer.” Oscar seemed genuinely apologetic, as if dancing was something he should have known how to do in order to win Sam over. But Sam had already been won over.

All it had taken was one wrong number.

“That’s okay.” Sam smiled. “I’ve never danced with anyone before, so it’s not like I’d know.”

“Never?” Oscar looked genuinely surprised at this.

“I don’t know if you’ve ever met kids, but they’re especially cruel. Though seizures aren’t contagious, kids sure acted like they were.”

Oscar’s expression was thunderous, but then it softened. “I hate that they were mean to you, but I don’t hate that I get to be your first dance. I would have danced with you. Even then.”

Sam didn’t doubt him.

Oscar was the most earnest, honest, alluring man that Sam had ever met. Calling him was the best mistake Sam had ever made.

Leaning in, he brushed his lips against Oscar’s. Gentle. Soft. Just a tease. Oscar’s hands slid down to cradle Sam’s ass and he pulled him closer. Sam inhaled sharply when his cock landed against Oscar’s thigh, and Oscar’s pressed against his.

“You know, I’m glad all the restaurants were booked solid,” Sam admitted. Heat pooled low in his belly and spread outward. He tingled with anticipation, his heart fluttering and his dick throbbing. He felt like he was going to explode into a cloud of dust if Oscar didn’t kiss him soon. And properly, with tongue and wandering hands, and hopefully a bunch of bare skin.

“Yeah?” Oscar had this sweet, boyishly hopeful expression. Like he just wanted to be good, to make Sam happy. Oscar really was a golden retriever.

“Oscar, if you don’t kiss me in the next four seconds, I’ll?—”

Oscar kissed him. He slanted his mouth over Sam’s and kissed him deeply, yanking him closer with one arm, now wound around his lower back. He sank a hand into Sam’s hair and kissed him deeper than Sam had been kissed before. Their tongues danced, their breathing synced, and Sam’s entire brain switched off. There was nothing left but Oscar and the way his hand felt perfect on his ass.

Sam broke away first, panting against Oscar’s skin, kissing his jaw. “Oscar…”

“Sam…” Oscar mimicked his breathy tone. His hands were roaming Sam’s body again, mapping the angles and contours of his form.

Sam didn’t answer with words. He reached up and started unbuttoning his shirt. The shirt he’d rushed out and bought just for the date. The jeans were new too. Even his underwear was new.

Oscar watched as Sam opened his shirt and shrugged out of it. Before Sam had time to feel self-conscious, Oscar whipped his sweater off and tossed it aside, then he was on Sam again. This time their kiss was frantic and intense. Not languid or sweet like the ones before it. This one was nothing but hunger. Want. Desire.

Lust thrummed through them. Pulsed in the air around them. Sam ground his aching cock against Oscar’s, eliciting the sweetest of moans from him. Sam snaked a hand between them and rubbed the bulge in Oscar’s pants.

“Want this in me.”

Oscar lifted Sam up off the floor, sweeping him off his feet, quite literally, in a bridal-style hold and he carried him down the hallway. Oscar nudged the bedroom door open with his foot and took Sam to the bed, where he set him down.

“If you’re sure,” Oscar said, flicking the button of Sam’s jeans open.

“I’m sure.” Sam pushed his skinny jeans down and Oscar helped him out of them. Leaving Sam in only the pair of bright red underwear he’d purchased. They were the smallest pair of briefs he’d ever owned and of a shiny material that was soft against his skin.

“Holy shit, you’re so hot, Sam. How?”

“How am I hot?” Sam furrowed his brow, but Oscar shook his head.

“How am I so lucky to have you in my bed?”

“Well, I’d feel a lot luckier if you were in here with me.”

Oscar popped the button of his pants open and stripped out of them. Sam watched as Oscar revealed long, muscled legs and a sizeable bulge tucked away behind a pair of black briefs.

Only then did Oscar climb into bed with Sam. He stretched out over top of Sam, nestling in the space Sam created for him between his legs. He loved the weight of Oscar on top of him.

“Please tell me you were presumptuous as fuck and that you have supplies.”

Oscar laughed and stretched to the nightstand. He opened a drawer and pulled out a row of condoms and a bottle of lube. “I was hopeful, not presumptuous.”

Heat rushed through Sam for an entirely different reason now that things were really going to happen. Embarrassment made him want to hide his face, but there was nothing he could do to make himself look away from Oscar.

“It’s been awhile,” Sam confessed.

Oscar leaned down and ghosted his mouth over Sam’s collarbone. Something that simple had no business being as arousing as it was. Sam was practically breathless from one little touch of Oscar’s lips to Sam’s exposed skin. And they weren’t even all the way naked yet. Sam was doomed.

Oscar kissed him again, this time on the side of the throat. Then lower. To the hollow. Oscar didn’t stop touching him either. His hands mapped Sam’s body leaving trails of heat and desire. Sam was pulled out of his head and firmly into the moment. Until Oscar spoke again.

“Do you have any preferences?”

Sam’s brain chugged away, trying to make sense of what Oscar was asking. “Preferences?”

“Top? Bottom? Both? Neither?”

“Oh, uh… I usually just wing it… you know. Do what feels good? Does that make sense?”

Oscar’s gaze held his as he dipped his head down and kissed Sam next to the belly button. “I want to be inside you so bad.”

Sam’s body clenched at the idea, but not in a bad way. In an anticipatory way. In a hurry up and get the fuck inside me way. He didn’t even care that he could barely remember the last time he had something inside him that wasn’t his own doing. In a way, it made it better. Like he’d been on the shelf so long that he was new again. Which was a stupid idea. But it was felt almost like he’d been saving himself for someone better than he’d had before. Someone worth waiting for. Someone who would pick him up out of the snow and show up with warm sweats. Someone who’d been happy to dance with him, though neither of them was any good at it.

Someone like Oscar.

Sam shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind,” he elaborated in case it wasn’t clear what he wanted. Then he shoved his briefs down, baring the rest of him. Revealing the final piece.

Oscar smiled at Sam, a smile too full of dirty promises to be considered sweet, but he swooned all the same when Oscar skimmed the briefs down Sam’s legs and off before wriggling out of his own.

Oscar treated him like a prince. Returning to his place between Sam’s legs, he let him lie back and receive pleasure. He licked the underside of Sam’s shaft, one hand cradling his balls as he took Sam’s cock in his mouth. And all Sam could do was lie there and writhe. Oscar’s mouth was made of miracles, Sam thought, as his tongue toyed with the head of Sam’s cock. That one little muscle, slick and strong, was responsible for the way Sam’s whole body trembled.

Lucky for Sam, who was already on the precipice, Oscar stopped. The familiar sound of a condom wrapper being torn open made Sam’s heart race. The lube squelched and another time Sam might have laughed at the sound, but he was too keyed up. Too excited. Nervous. Too … ohl God. Oscar traced Sam’s hole with his lube-slick finger and gently slid it inside as he took Sam in his mouth again.

It was almost too much. The stretch. The head of his cock being ravished by Oscar’s tongue. The finger sank deeper until it was all the way inside, and then Oscar slowly eased it back. Sweat beaded on Sam’s forehead. His skin was too tight. The room was too hot.

“Oscar, I—” He what? Sam didn’t know what he’d do if Oscar didn’t kiss him. Didn’t climb up the bed and pin him down and slide inside him.

“Please,” Sam said, hoping that Oscar knew what Sam wanted.

Oscar did. Or at least he was good at guessing because he crawled up the bed and slanted his mouth over Sam’s. Sam clung to him, cradled his face in his hands and kissed him back, fervently, desperately. Until he was writhing and whining, dreadfully empty.

“Fuck me, Oscar. Please. Please, please, please.”

Oscar kissed the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Of course. Anything. Anything you want.”

It was good to hear Oscar sounding a little dazed. It was good to know that Sam wasn’t the only one lust-drunk.

Oscar slicked his cock and lined it up with Sam’s hole. “Tell me if you need me to stop.”

Sam answered by pulling him into a kiss. Oscar moaned into Sam’s mouth and pressed forward, sinking his cock into him, inch by gloriously thick inch. Oscar had a decent-sized cock. Not too big, but Sam would definitely feel him later.

Once Oscar was all the way inside, he paused as if to give Sam a chance to get used to his size, but he just wanted Oscar to move. He wanted to feel him properly. Sam started to say something, but then Oscar was moving. Sliding out a little, then thrusting back in with short, sharp thrusts. Oscar hooked an arm under one of Sam’s legs and pressed it upward, creating more space for himself to move. And the pace increased. The change of angle had Oscar’s cock brushing over Sam’s prostate. He purposely didn’t touch his cock because it would be over in a hot second and he didn’t want it to end.

Ever.

But it had been too long since Sam was with someone, and he’d never been with someone like Oscar, who had been focused on Sam the whole time, on making him feel good. It wasn’t long at all before Sam was writhing, and whimpering, moaning in a voice that no longer sounded like his.

Oscar wrapped a hand around Sam’s cock and in two short pulls, Sam shattered. He came so hard felt like he’d been immediately emptied. Like he’d gone from full to bursting, to an empty husk in the span of a few breaths.

Oscar crushed his lips against Sam’s and devoured him until he lost rhythm and pace and came apart in Sam’s embrace.

Afterward, they lay there. Condom disposed of, cum hastily wiped off Sam’s chest with one of Oscar’s shirts. Ace padded into the bedroom and jumped up on the bed, making himself at home by Sam’s feet.

“Ace, buddy, you didn’t have permission.” Sam laughed and tried to sit up to urge Ace to hop off the bed, but Oscar pulled him back down.

“He’s fine.”

“He’ll get hair in your bed.”

“If I cared about dog hair, I wouldn’t want a guy with a dog to be my boyfriend.”

Sam twisted and propped himself up on his elbow so he could look at Oscar. “Boyfriend?”

“If you’ll have me.”

Sam kissed him, slow and sweet, before sinking back down into his embrace.

“I’m so glad I called the wrong number,” Sam paused. “Boyfriend.” Who would have thought that a wrong number would be the cause of so much happiness?