faderift | For He's a Jolly Good Fellow

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For He's a Jolly Good Fellow

WHO: Jim Kirk & Samouel Gareth
WHAT: Jim and Sam discover something about each other
WHEN: Backdated slightly to Wintermarch 4/5
WHERE: Sam and Kirk's Loft
NOTES: Ridiculous revelations, probably come sexual content

"Sam, how old are you?"

Even for Kirk, the question came out of left field, and he had been the one to ask it. Why this suddenly struck him as important he couldn't quite say, since he was safely sure that Sam was of a legal age, and not knowing had done nothing to affect their relationship as it stood.

Perhaps it had come on as he lay there beside Sam, nestled into him and simply enjoying his presence while his fingers idly drifted over his stomach and thighs. He could name many things he knew about Sam, quite a few of them not something you should really mention in polite company. Of course at some point his mind would come up to the issue of age, and realize that he simply didn't know. It had never been something he'd asked Sam, nor Sam him. It simply never felt important.

Except for right now, because he was asking it, head turned upwards to look at Sam with eyes big from curiosity.

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Spending time with Kirk was always enjoyable, but it was always nice to just slow down and share moments like these. Laying in bed together under the blankets and furs, idle tracing of fingers, and the presence of the other man at his side, in no rush to be anywhere. Just there in the moment.

Eyes closed, lulled into a comfortable silence from Kirk's touches, Sam hums questionably when he hears his name. How old was he? It takes a moment for the words to process, brows furrowing as it does so, before he blinks his eyes open and turns his head to look down at Kirk. He's not expecting to see the man looking at him with such big eyes that the mage cannot help but grin widely.

"What brought this on?" He doesn't know what 'out of left field' is, but the question certainly had seemed to come out of nowhere. "I'll be turning 29 soon."

"I just realized I didn't know, is all. A bit older than I had thought. And here I was worried I was robbing a cradle," he shook his head with a quiet hum of laughter before cocking his head, the last part of Sam's reply finally registering with him.

"How soon is 'soon'?" he inquired, turning himself to sit up a bit on his stomach.

Robbing a cradle? "Exactly how young did you think I was?" he asks with a huff of amusement immediately after. Sam follows suit in rolling over, though only onto his side so that he could still properly look at Jim.

What was the date? Sam quietly taps his thumb against his other fingers along his side as he mouths numbers as he counts. "Eleven days."

"Twenty-five, twenty-six," he shrugged. He hadn't been all that far off, so it wasn't to embarrassing an assumption to have made. He had thought that the harder life here in Thedas would carve the years more sharply into a person, and Sam's youthful appearance had made him believe him to be somewhat younger.

Kirk did the math. "The 15th?" he said aloud. "Or the 16th?"

"That doesn't sound like ages that would count as... 'robbing the cradle'?" Life was certainly hard in Thedas, but for half of his he had lived in the Circle. He supposes he aged differently because of it.

"The 16th," he confirms, shifting to put a pillow under his arm to get more comfortable. "And what about you? How old are you and when? Seeing as you're asking this 'youngster' about all these details."

"Hah, no, it doesn't. It's a turn of phrase from my world, used to refer to when someone dates another person much younger than them," he clarified, idly sliding his leg against Sam's beneath the blankets.

"Well, if we go by this world's calendar and assuming it matches more or less accurately with my world's - I'm thirty-one, my dear whipper-snapper as of..." he paused, thinking on the math he'd just done and looking over his shoulder out the window at the moon.

"As of yesterday, I believe, if I'm reading the general time of night correctly," he turned back to Sam. "More accurately the 4th."

"Thirty-one. Maker, you are old." Said oh so lovingly with the biggest grin. He had figured Jim to be about his age, just a bit older, perhaps since he had a lot of knowledge and traveled for so long.

The leg pressing against his has him looking down, watching the blankets slide with the movement. Couldn't keep any of his limbs to himse-

Sam blinks. "Yesterday?" A pause. "James! Why didn't you say something?"

Kirk darted in to peck that smile. "You've enjoyed the benefits of my age, sir."

He started at the sudden shout, blinking rapidly before shrugging. A twist and he was on his back again.

"I wasn't really thinking about it until now," he said. "I've never been someone who makes a big deal of their birthday."

As Kirk rolls slightly away he follows, putting his arm down on the bed to allow himself to lean closer. Whatever he was going to say dies off, pursing his lips slightly at Jim's explanation.

"Well I guess I cannot fault you on that," he says, leaning back some onto his side. "Last year was the first in a while that anyone made a big deal of it... I was just going to let the day come and go." Come to think of it he hadn't thought of his birthday at all until right now and probably would've done the same.

"So what got you thinking about it now?" After the day?

Kirk reached out to take Sam's other hand, drawing it across his back, stroking his fingers along the corded muscle. It was probably a terrible, horrible thing that he enjoyed these moments, just laying with Sam like this, in this loft that was "theirs" rather than "Sam's". He knew what he was doing and he couldn't stop himself, because otherwise it would crushingly lonely.

"Oh, I hadn't really planned on doing anything," he said off handedly. "Like you said, I don't really make a big deal of it." He reached up to slip a stray bit of hair behind Sam's ear. "Why hadn't you celebrated your birthday in so long?"

Hm, perhaps it was time for him to get a trim, noticing just how long it had gotten with the way Kirk's fingers felt then pushed hair behind his ear. It was a fleeting thought though seeing as his mind was a bit more focused on the fingers sliding across his side and along his back.

The question earns Kirk a raised eyebrow, considering it. Not that he hadn't expected the question, but it wasn't the lightest of subjects. "It's not exactly something you do when you're in the Circle."

Kirk knew he himself needed one. He'd always left his hair long enough to be fluffy, but he hadn't properly visited a barber since he had come to Thedas, and it had been months. As it was, he was pulling his hair back with a small leather thong most days. Not that it mattered right now, and he hadn't thought much of it since Sam hadn't complained, or any of his other partners.

Oh, of course. He had never pressed Samouel to very much on his life in the Circles, but perhaps that had been a mistake. Slowly he rolled so he could face Sam again, sliding his arm around his ribs and playing his fingers long Sam's spine.

"Is that some rule? Mages can't celebrate their birthdays?"

"I don't think it's a rule, but we weren't exactly encouraged. Some didn't even know their birthday, and the ones that did might get a 'happy birthday' sent their way. That was about it. For me... it was a little depressing considering it was around my birthday that I had gotten caught and put in the Circle. Not to mention that I remembered how celebrating with my family had been... Norrington and the others did play a bit of favoritism with me though and sometimes I'd get chocolate or something extra with a meal. That's how it was at Ostwick at least, I don't know about other Circles."

Lovely story wasn't it?

"And what about you, James? Why no big deal on your own?"

Oh, there was a question now wasn't it? He sighed, quiet as he tried to form the words to find the reasoning behind it all. Eventually he rolled onto his stomach, hugging one of the pillows against his cheek as he looked up at Sam.

"Well, my birthday is also the day my father died," he began. "So there was that. My mother tried not to let it show, but my brother wasn't so great at it. Not at first. And then of course, once my mother left us with Uncle Frank, well, Frank didn't want us there in the first place, so birthdays just weren't made a big deal of. And then once you get out into space, I just -" He paused again, running a hand through his hair. "I suppose after all those years of it not being a big deal or having this weird shadow over it because of my father, I just got in the habit of it not being a big deal or something to remark on. It was just a birthday, after all."

Sam listens quietly, his lips thinning when he hears the details as he rolled over onto his stomach next to Kirk. "I'm sorry about your father," he says after a long moment. Leaning in so that their shoulders were touching, Sam lightly presses his forehead against Jim's temple.

"Maybe we could do something together. No big deal, just celebrate another year going by. Another year older, another year lived."

"Thanks, but don't let it bother you to much. Can't miss a man you never knew," he assured him, turning his head up slightly to catch his lips instead, keeping it soft and affectionate. He nuzzled his jaw before settling back down, tangling their legs beneath the sheets.

"Sure, that would be nice," he agreed, though to be honest it wouldn't bother him not to either. "We could go out for a ride, have a nice meal. A quiet day."

He's not so sure about that, after all he missed his mother and he never got to meet her; perhaps because he knew of her. Not something to really get into though, their conversation didn't need to go in that direction. Not to mention he was rather enjoying the soft touch of Kirk's lips.

"Like our last ride?" he asks, chuckling lightly as he settled back down as well.

He knew of his father too. He had seen his pictures, even read papers about the event that had claimed his life and been the moment of his own birth. But that was all they were - pictures and reports, representations of a man, this figure in history. He was related to him, but what did he know of him? It was like saying you were upset by the death of Abraham Lincoln because he was your many times great grandfather. He was just a figure in history, a shadow he had to fight out form underneath, nothing more and nothing less.

"You enjoyed the last ride," he pressed his lips against Sam's jaw, weaving a pattern of kisses. "Did you have something else in mind instead?"

"Hm, I did." He had quite a bit in fact. "I was more commenting about the 'quiet' part. I think you scared off the bears," he says with a grin and a slight rise and fall of his brows, letting Kirk continue to spoil him with kisses.

"Not really, not without taking us away for several days. I'd suggest a trip to a market, but they aren't exactly close."

"Ah, well, I might have been quieter if someone had not so ruthlessly exploited by weaknesses," he rumbled, not at all displeased with this idea. His lips found their way to Sam's, sucking idly, kissing with the warm laziness of the perfectly content.

"Belated birthday gift then - next chance we get we go to market," he promised him. "How does one normally celebrate a birthday in a Thedas, though?"

"You would've been disappointed if I hadn't," he says huskily in playful retort against Kirk's lips.

At the promise Sam nods quietly with a hum. It sounded well and good, but his mind was a little elsewhere, already coming up with other plans for belated birthdays. "Hm? Ah... normally," he says with a chuckle, teasing. "Well gifts and some sort of food is usually what people do. Least how I've done it."

"Oh, I could never be disappointed in you. But I admit I had more fun because you did," he nipped at him with a husky laugh of his own.

Warm and content, Kirk wasn't much bothered by Samouel's mild distraction. Frankly, his own mind was a little distracted too, nestled against the hard body as he was, considering what he might do to be able to surprise Samouel and give him a proper birthday. Kirk wasn't much for celebrating his own, but he did enjoy celebrating others, and everyone deserved at least one proper birthday celebration.

"Oh, so the same as my world," he nodded, fingers drawing lazy circles along Sam's back. "Maybe we should get a cake and share."

Great minds. Guess they both were on the same page, but without the other knowing that. He's certainly got a couple ideas that he thinks James would enjoy.

"Share a cake? What kind of cake are you proposing?" It honestly probably doesn't matter since he suspects Kirk means 'share' as in the same way they had the jams that Sam had gifted him.

"You can never go wrong with chocolate. You do have chocolate here, don't you?" he asked him, turning his head up slightly with that particular cant that said all else was forgotten in the face of his current curiosity.

Would Thedas even call it chocolate? Or would he translate whatever they said as chocolate? He'd noticed cuisine similarities between Thedas and Earth in several dishes, which was odd in its own right, but he had never considered sweets and something like chocolate until this moment.

"What's your favorite flavor?" he added on, absently brushing his fingers against Sam's chest.

Sam chuckles at the question, pushing himself up a bit higher in his reclined position so that he could look down at Kirk a bit better. "Yes, we have chocolate here. I'm pretty sure there were some at the parties here at Skyhold. There was also a store that had them while we were in Orlais." Course they had gone into a different store for some toys so very possible that Jim had not noticed; he had been very excited about those rings after all.

"Favorite flavor for a cake? Chocolate. Course any dessert that can use strawberries is going to be my favorite. What about you?"

Kirk's cheeks colored, a soft peach-pink as he gazed up at Sam. He couldn't say why, but there was something so very intimately sexy about Sam looking down at him like that, a warmth he hadn't experienced with anyone else. He could lay like this all day, he thought, and just listen to Sam and trade these small touches. The gap between himself and others that had existed for so many years simply didn't with Samouel, a realization that made him smile as the tips of his fingers slide along his jaw.

"Strawberries, got it," he hummed. "I like anything that can use apples, personally. Apple pie with some fresh whipped cream - simple, but delicious."

A brow ever so slightly arches when he notices the dusting of pink on Kirk's cheeks, trying not to look smug about it. He was always prone to blush, so when he could make his lover do the same - even just a little - he felt a bit of pride that he effected him so.

That and Kirk looked good with a bit of red on him.

Hearing about apples doesn't come as a shock - he's noticed how Kirk tended to grab for one at meals - but it's still interesting to hear. "Oh?" Leaning in, he quietly urges to have more then just finger tips on his jaw, but keeps his eyes on Jim as they talk. "Guess I'll have to bake you a pie then."

He took the hint, cupping his jaw, brushing his thumb across the stubble, working back to the nape of his neck and massaging slowly. His lips replaced his thumb, casual brushes, slow and meandering.

"Do I get to watch you bake it?" he asked him, sheets shifted as he twisted his legs with Sam's beneath the covers. Surely Sam did not expect to go anywhere soon.

Unless Kirk wanted to bake a pie at this time of night, no, he wasn't planning on getting up from their bed any time soon.

"Watch? I'll be sure to make you get your hands dirty. You do know how to slice apples don't you?" His voice is soft simply for the reason that he's a bit more interested in kissing Kirk and using his breath for that.

"Oh I'm an expert," he grinned, bitting his lip around his smile when they're not kissing, trading those soft, tender blows that made his nerves explode.

He tugged him close, working them more towards the center of the bed, covers twisting tighter around them in a warm cocoon. A shift of his hips and the tangle of their legs brought them flush. His fingers traced wandering patterns across Sam's back, the familiar rise and fall of muscle and the little imperfections he loved so much.

"Is that what gets you off? Watching me handle fruit?"

"Oh there are plenty of things that you handle that get me excited, but I don't think fruit is one of them." A grin as he shifts to get an arm out so that he could properly lean on it, all the while sliding his leg up against Kirk's.

"I could be wrong, but I'm usually a bit more fascinated by the hands or lips being used rather then the fruit itself."

Kirk laughed, reaching up to wrap his arms around Samouel, fingers tracing fine little patterns across his spine, up across the back of those muscular arms he adored quite so much.

"And what things do you enjoy watching me handle then?" He asked, biting his lip around his saucy grin.

The question has him grinning a bit wider, a bit more mischievous, then before. "Oh, let's see..." As he pretends to think about it, he reaches around to grab at one of Kirk's hand, bringing it up near his mouth.

"Watching you grip the headboard or railing is always a very interesting and attractive view," he says, kissing at Kirk's wrist before moving to his palm.

Shivers made his skin tremble, shifting slightly beneath the covers as Samouel played with his hand. He twisted his wrist, curling and brushing his fingers against Samoule's lips, tracing their familiar curve. Damn, but Samouel was gorgeous in this light, so close. Even more so when those lips pressed to his skin.

"Hmm, but do you like it best when I'm on my back or on my knees?" he inquired, leaning in to nuzzle along his jaw.

"Well," he starts, nipping at a finger that was running across his lips. "I do rather enjoy it when I can kiss you easier." Not to mention being able to see the look on Kirk's face during their lovemaking.

"But, on your knees..." he says, trailing off slightly to just grin at Kirk. "You're able to 'handle' so much more, and the way you push back. Mmph." Honestly he enjoyed Kirk any which way, but having his lover in a way that allowed him to be just as active in the activity made it even more pleasant.

When had Samouel become to intoxicating? When had it become so easy for Samouel to arouse him this way? Not that Kirk was particularly hard to arouse, mind, but Samouel did it in this particular way that made his whole body tingle. He couldn't recall feeling that with anyone else in recent memory, or at all even.

Kirk laughed, lacing it with a rough huskiness born from the rising heat between his legs. "I do like it when you give me your all," he murmured. "I've noticed you push harder when you're behind me." And he loved it, he really did - loved being swallowed by the intensity that was Samouel's passion, letting himself be drawn into his rhythm and giving him as much as he demanded.

Like this, Sam is all too aware of that particular heat, but doesn't quite address it openly; just presses in a bit more firmly.

"Seeing as you're often saying 'more' or 'harder' when we're like that, I've just learned to just give you my all," he says, repeating back Kirk's words with the same amount of huskiness. "Though it is amusing when I hold back and you decide to flip the tables."

A soft wriggle, the gentlest of presses closer. He was content to savor the heat of it, this playful rise they were caught in.

"There are some things I am just to impatient for," he laughed softly, tilting his head, bumping his nose against his jaw to nuzzle him, teeth scraping tenderly in a teasing nibble.

"Hm. And what, may I ask, are you impatient for?" He knows, but like Kirk, he likes making the other say it - at least in private.

Kirk remained quiet for a moment, letting the warm silence spread between them. He filled it peppered kisses and the scrape of Sam's stubble against his cheek, the rustle of sheets as he adjusted the twining of their legs. He let the silence fill with the warmth and ease of their companionship, with the affection he felt so deeply for Samouel.

"For you, of course," he murmured into his ear.

"Don't tell me that. I might just use that against you," he teases, because he knows he's already done just that. A lot. Kirk has himself to thank for that though, seeing as he taught that to him in ways.

He grins at that, letting his head fall to his pillow so that he can free up his hand to lightly mess with Kirk's hair.

He truly has created his greatest weakness hasn't he? Not that he particularly minds - he would let Sam do just about anything to him, and would do just about anything for Samouel. His lashes fluttered when Samouel pet his hair, tilting into the sweet pressure of it.

"Do your worst, Samouel," he brushed his fingers over his jaw, a quiet smile on his lips.

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For He's a Jolly Good Fellow

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