Title: In the Midnight
Hour
Author/pseudonym:
Tinnean
Fandom: The Big Chill
Pairing: Sam/Richard
Rating: NC-17
Email address: Tinneantoo@aol.com
Disclaimer: Lawrence
Kasdan still owns them; I’m still playing with them.
Status: new/complete
Date: 4/01
Series/Sequel: This is
part 9 (oh, wow, who woulda thunk it!) of The Connection series, and follows
The Weight
Other Web Site:
https://www.angelfire.com/ny4/tinsel/
Archive: I’d like to
see it archived all over the net, but since I don’t belong to that many
lists…if I sent it to you, please archive. Otherwise ask. I’m easy.
Summary: Sam and
Richard meet at Alex’s funeral.
Warnings: m/m, m/f
implied, spoilers for the movie
Notes: Thanks to Silk
for being there. And to Gail for her help. Without them, I’d still be writing
het.
*****
Part 1/1
Karen was standing
between Michael and Sarah, her stance oddly protective. Sarah’s eyes were red
from weeping at the gravesite. Michael’s were hot as they raked over her body.
“You’d never get a crowd
like this to my funeral,” Karen said with a brittle laugh, endeavoring to
distract him.
“Oh, come on now, Karen.
I’d come.” He waggled his eyebrows. “And… I’d bring a date!”
A smile parted Karen’s
carefully made-up lips, but it fell far short of her eyes. “Why doesn’t that
surprise me in the least, Michael?”
“That’s just the kind of
guy I am,” he responded absently as he spotted Meg and Chloe, Alex’s girlfriend
slipping out the front door. His journalistic nose twitched as it sensed a
story. He abandoned his two college friends and followed the other women at a
discrete distance.
****
Sam Webber kept a
cautious eye on Karen. She stood by the buffet with her arm around Sarah
Cooper’s shoulders, talking softly to her.
He used to flirt madly
with Karen in college, knowing full well that while she enjoyed trading double
entendres with him, she was committed to Nick.
He had thought, way back
then, that he was playing the noble, besotted, Cyrano character in their little
love triangle, but now he understood himself much better. It had taken the male
lead in the TV show in which he had a small part to expose him to that aspect
of his sexual orientation.
For a while Robin, his
ex-wife, had been willing to cover for him, but then she had fallen deeply in
love with her hairdresser, who turned out to be the one stylist in Hollywood
who wasn’t gay!
Now Sam had to be
especially careful. Not only would his visitation rights be jeopardized, but
his standing in the movie community as well. So he was often seen with this
up-and-coming starlet, or that high-fashion model, and sometimes he even fucked
them.
But his heart was tied up
elsewhere, and had been for some time now.
He watched hungrily as
the neatly dressed man in the dark business suit took a bite of his sandwich. A
smear of mayonnaise got on his lip, and Sam had the sudden urge to go up to him
and kiss it off.
The man glanced up just
then and caught Sam’s sultry gaze. He ran his tongue nervously over his lips,
and licked the bit of mayo off. Sam grinned wickedly, his patented, J.T..
Lancer, charm-‘em-right-out-of-their-panties smile. A hectic flush mounted the
man’s cheeks.
Sam glanced down
discretely at the front of the man’s trousers. Ah, yes, a very satisfying
reaction.
Richard was sporting a very
impressive hard-on.
Sam looked up to find
Richard frowning. Yes, he was hard, but he was not happy about it.
Sam put couple of ice
cubes into a plastic cup and poured some Scotch over them. Then he picked up a
can of Dr. Pepper and walked to where Richard was standing, raptly studying his
sandwich. Sam had no doubt he could smooth the other man’s ruffled feathers. He
handed him the soda.
“Richard.”
“Sam.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“Really? It’s been hard
to find excuses to come out to the coast. And then, the last time I was there…”
Richard let the words peter out.
Sam groaned softly.
“Don’t remind me! That officious, interfering excuse for a publicist! If he had
told me it was you, right from the start, I would have cancelled that business
meeting!”
“Would you have? That
looked more like a date than just dinner with the suits! Or should I say suit,
singular, as in just you and him in that back booth?”
Sam looked into Richard’s
dark eyes, which still reflected the hurt. His charm was not about to get him
off the hook this time. “Nothing happened, you know.”
“Sam, you don’t owe me an
explanation. I know you have a life in LaLa Land.” But it had felt as if his
heart had been ripped out and stomped on. The man Sam was having dinner with
was so young, and so obviously…available. “It isn’t that big a deal.”
The actor felt his
stomach drop. Was Richard ending their relationship? He’d be damned if he let
that happen! “Isn’t it? Oh. If our situations were reversed, I would have
stormed into that restaurant and caused a scene!”
Richard wasn’t about to
tell him how close he had come to doing just that. Instead, he took a deep
swallow of his soda and blotted his lips with a napkin. He avoided Sam’s eyes.
“I followed you there. I saw you, and him …Excuse me, Sam. I’ve got to use the,
uh…”
Karen’s husband turned
away from his occasional lover and blindly put down the can and his sandwich.
Sam looked at the mangled remains, and felt his heart stutter.
Richard had to still
care; Sam certainly did. If there was any question of that, this sudden turn of
events had proved otherwise. But Sam knew it would take major explaining to
convince his lover that the man he had seen him dining with was…what? The son
of a friend? The nephew of a business associate? Someone from back home?
A big mistake?
He deserved better than
that. When Richard, mild-mannered Richard, starting calling California ‘LaLa
Land’, Sam knew he was pushed to his limit.
There had to be something
there he could salvage, and he was determined to find it. The realization that
Richard might no longer want him, might be using that date he had gone out on
as an excuse to end their relationship, was scaring the shit out of him.
He took a step to follow
him, but found his path blocked by a young teen who was holding a copy of Us
Magazine. “Are you J.T. Lancer?” he asked in a voice that wavered between
octaves.
Sam restrained his
patience. “J.T. Lancer is the character I play on TV. I’m Sam Webber.”
“Well, whoever you are,
will you autograph this for me?”
“Don’t you think we
should be thinking about Alex today?”
The kid gave him a look
that conveyed the message that if he’d had his choice, he’d be anywhere else
but there. “I’ll give you a buck!” the boy offered.
Sam took the magazine and
scrawled his name across his picture on the cover, taking a perverse pleasure
in the act of obliterating his face. He tossed the magazine back to the kid and
muttering something about needing the bathroom, strode hastily out of the room.
“Hey, Larry, was that
J.T. Lancer?”
“Nah, that’s the asshole
who plays him!” The kid’s eyes took on a sly cast. “Wanna buy his autograph?
Five bucks!”
****
Sam knocked on the door
of the powder room.
“Just a second!”
Richard’s voice was somewhat muffled.
Sam reached for the
doorknob and rattled it.
“I said just a second!”
Richard yanked open the door. But before he could step out of the way, Sam was
crowding him back into the small room and locking the door behind his back. His
hands tangled in the other man’s dark hair and he pulled his face down.
“Fuck it, Richard! Kiss
me! It’s been too long!”
“Not my idea!” Richard
whispered hoarsely.
Sam was fascinated by the
way his full lower lip thrust out. He forgot about all his carefully reasoned
arguments. He took that lip between his teeth and drew it into his mouth,
suckling it, gently at first, and then with more force as desire lit a fire low
in his gut.
Richard moaned and Sam
swallowed the soft sound. His hands reached down and he shaped his lover’s
arousal, tracing the broad head through the thick cloth of his trousers. Sam’s
tongue swept into Richard’s mouth, teasing him into responding.
“Fuck me, Richard! I know
you’re angry with me, and you have every right to be. Take it out on my ass!”
“Be careful what you ask
for, Sam. Right now I could take you without lube!”
Sam shuddered from the
heat of the other man’s words. “Is that what you want, babe?” His hands went to
his belt and he unfastened it. He dropped his trousers and stood before the
other man, his cock dampening the snug white briefs he wore. Sam held out his
arms, as if in surrender. “I’m all yours, Richard,” he said in a flip tone.
The other man ripped
Sam’s underwear in his anger and his hurt. Spinning him around, he kicked his
legs apart and pushed him forward to balance on the pedestal sink. Sarah had a
bottle of baby oil in the cabinet beneath the window, and Richard poured a
dollop into his palm. He began working it into the skin behind Sam’s balls, and
up to the puckered opening.
Sam shivered as he
realized that in spite of his pain, Richard still wouldn’t do anything to harm
him. He spread his legs wider and moaned as his lover inserted a second finger
into his narrow passageway.
There was a tense moment
while Richard searched for a condom. Sam pressed his erection against the cool
porcelain of the sink, desperate for some relief. And then the head of
Richard’s cock began to slide past the tight ring of muscle and started the
burning glide that would bring them both to orgasm.
Warm material rubbed
against Sam’s buttocks. Richard had merely opened his trousers, not even
bothering to lower them. Sam knew he meant it as a form of punishment, but the
idea of his lover dressed, while he was nearly naked was so exciting that he
knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer.
“Richard, please!”
Richard understood what
he wanted. He began stroking Sam’s cock harder and changed the angle of his
thrusts so that he connected with his lover’s prostate.
After that, it was all
over but the shouting, which they couldn’t do in case someone was waiting
outside the door. Richard clapped a hand covered with Sam’s come over the other
man’s mouth to muffle his groans. Sam’s tongue tickled his palm. He bit down on
Sam’s shoulder to stifle his own moan.
Richard kept his arms
firmly around Sam’s waist while they waited for the tremors that rippled
through them both to subside and for their breathing to return to normal.
Sam winced as Richard’s
softened cock slid from him. In spite of the care he had taken in preparing
him, Richard had fucked him fiercely. Sam knew the memory of this interlude
would be something he would jerk off to for months to come.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,
Sam,” Richard murmured in his lover’s ear.
“I’m sorry I hurt you,
babe.”
“I want to know why Sam.
I know you have to fuck those women sometimes, but why that …*kid*?”
Sam shrugged. “I was
lonely. And bored.” He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in Richard’s
eyes. He stooped to pull his trousers back up. “And you weren’t there.” He drew
in a deep breath. “I saw you in the restaurant, but by the time I got to the
door, you were gone.” His mouth twisted unhappily and he wound his hand around
Richard’s neck. “You know something, babe? I’m a top.”
Richard looked confused.
“Pardon me?”
“I fuck. I don’t get fucked.”
He toyed nervously with the strands of hair that fell over the base of
Richard’s skull.
“But…”
“Except for you, babe. I
bottom for you.”
~End~