The smell of blood is thick in the air. Flooding Sam’s nostrils with a metallic scent and leaving him with a sense of fulfillment, a sense of purpose. He so desperately wants to feel bad for the victim, after all, he is dead, but Sam can’t find it in himself to feel bad. He doesn’t feel bad.
Wiping the blood off his knife with a handkerchief, Sam surveys the scene, assesses the damage that he’s caused. He can’t stop the smile that spreads across his face.
It’s beautiful in a way, artistic, almost like a painting. Something that Picasso or Van Gogh may have painted.
He knows it should be wrong, people say it’s wrong, laws say it’s wrong. But, how could something be wrong when it feels so right? Ever since he’s started doing this, he’s blossomed. He’s never felt better. He’s like the person he’s always wanted to be.
So, is it really bad? When it brings this much joy into his life?
After gently pocketing his knife, he turns and walks down the cold, dark street. Way too late for anybody to be up and out, except for the poor victim, obviously.
Sam’s not worried. He’s been doing this for years. He’s never even gotten close to being caught because he knows how to play the game. He’s smart.
The streetlights are on, and Sam avoids them. Even though there’s not another soul in sight, he doesn’t want to take the risk. He’s drenched in blood, smells like it too, and he certainly doesn’t want to have to move to another state just because someone saw him in this state.
After a short trek back to his house, Sam takes his keys out of his pocket and unlocks the door. He steps into the house, trying to be quiet as to not wake up the house guests, and kicks off his shoes. He’s definitely going to have to wash his shoes again, but that’s the price he has to pay when he does this. It’s a pretty small price.
He picks up the black trash bag that he purposely left on the floor before his little quest and places his shoes inside. He then takes his clothing off one-by-one and places the items inside the trash bag until he’s as naked as the day he was born. He loosely ties the bag and sits it by the door, he’ll wash the clothes later.
Sam then tiptoes up the stairs opens the bedroom door as slowly as possible. The door creaks, but Sam is hoping it’s quiet enough that it won’t wake his sleeping mate. Peeking inside the door, Sam is surprised to see that not only is his mate awake, but he’s wide awake with the bedside lamp on. Like he wasn’t even sleeping at all. His back is leaning against the headboard and he’s holding an opened book in his hand.
“Hey, James, what are you doing up?” Sam asks while walking fully into the room and shutting the door behind him.
James’s eyes do a slow sweep down Sam’s body before his eyes slowly ascend back up. His lips twitch. “Did you have fun?” he asks, dismissing Sam’s question to ask his own.
Sam smiles at him and walks around the bed to James’s side, avoiding touching the bed because, gross, they have to sleep there. Sam leans down and kisses James on the lips, effectively answering his question.
James returns the kiss with fervor before smiling. “Good. Now let’s go shower.”
He gets off the bed and grabs Sam’s hand and leads him into the bathroom. There, James starts to strip. Without both arms, it’s difficult but James succeeds in pulling his shirt off and tossing it into the hamper.
“Good thing you sleep without any bottoms on,” Sam says with a smirk.
James smirks back and wiggles his eyebrows. “There’s definitely more than one benefit to sleeping without bottoms.”
Sam chuckles then turns the shower on and steps inside, relieved to finally wash off all the blood and grime from the early morning’s festivities. James quickly follows suit and puts his hair under the spray before smirking and wrapping his arm around Sam’s neck.
“So, what did you do to them?” James asks Sam.
Sam was initially terrified to tell James about his hobby. He didn’t know what James would think. Of course, Sam knows it’s illegal to do what he does—duh—and he knows that if he gets caught he’ll go to jail. He didn’t want to drag James down with him.
But, lo and behold, James not only accepted Sam’s hobby, he relished in it.
Sam smirks back and wraps his arms around James’s waist. “Well, it was a male this time. He was giving this young lady a hard time. So, I put an end to it.”
James starts kissing down Sam’s neck and whispers, “How did you put an end to it?”
“I slit his throat.”
At that, James flat out moans like it’s doing something for him, which in a way, it kind of is.
James slides down onto his knees and grasps Sam’s hardening member in his hand. He gives it a few kitten licks before swallowing Sam down until James’s nose hits Sam’s pubes. Sam grabs a handful of James’s hair and yanks a little, eliciting a moan from James as he pulls off enough to suck on the head.
“Tell me more,” James demands, licking at the head some more while looking up at Sam.
Sam maintains eye contact with him and he clears his throat before speaking. “Before I slit his throat, I stabbed him. I was going to just let him bleed out, but I changed my mind at the last minute.”
James closes his eyes and starts alternating between sucking and licking. Sam lets out a small gasp.
“Fuck James,” Sam pulls James’s hair harder, resulting in another moan from James.
James then takes Sam deeper into his mouth again until his gag reflex kicks in. His throat spasms and Sam can feel that he’s getting close. The tight, wet heat of James’s mouth combined with the thought of his earlier festivities has Sam’s stomach burning and his legs trembling.
Sam starts subconsciously thrusting into James’s mouth, trying to chase his own release. James moans again, louder this time and pulls off Sam’s dick.
“I want you to come on my face,” James says, voice raspy, while jerking Sam’s dick in his hand.
And that is what does it, Sam shoots off onto James’s face with a loud groan, hand tightening in James’s hair before letting go and sagging onto the shower wall.
“Just give me a minute to catch my breath, then I’ll reciprocate.”
James hums. “That won’t be necessary.”
Sam looks at James, gets a real good look at him, and that’s when he notices how flushed James’s face is. How hard he’s breathing. His dick softening between his legs. Sam’s face breaks out into a smirk.
“It turned you on that much?”
“Mm-hmm. You know I love what you do.”
Sam drags James up onto his feet and kisses him. “You’re amazing.”
“I know,” James replies with a smirk.
They trade a few more kisses, only stopping because the water is starting to get cold, then quickly wash their bodies and step out of the shower. They quickly dry off and make their way into the bedroom. James puts on a shirt and Sam opts to stay naked before Sam flicks the lamp off and they lie down onto their bed. It’s still very early in the morning, so the darkness of the sky fills the room.
“Hey, Sam?” James starts in the otherwise quiet room.
“Yes?” Sam replies, looking at James. Even in the dark, he can still see the blue in his eyes.
James smiles at him, he can’t help it. “Next time you go out, can I go with you?”
That makes Sam smirk. “Wanna see the action in person?”
James laughs a little and nods. “Yeah.”
Sam does a nod of his own. “Sure babycakes. Then maybe afterward I can fuck you up against the wall. Would you like that?”
James bites his lip and actually whines. “Fuck yeah.”