Angelic Salvation

Without thinking, Sam waved a hand at the demon closest to Trist, and with a shriek the creature stumbled backwards. Sam blinked his eyes, and then glanced down at his arm with a frown. "What the fuck?" he muttered to himself, then shrugged and continued to walk towards the now very worried group of demons.

"Back the fuck up, unless you want to loose your damned heads." Sam said, his eyes boring holes into the creature's heads. They paused, but only for a moment before the made a rush for Tristan before Sam could get close to him. Tristan tried to jump back, but stumbled and fell backwards, dropping his sword to the ground.

Sam raised his hand again, shoving at the air in front of him, causing the demons to stumble forward, loosing their footing and tumbling to the wet ground. Sam's eyes went to the gleaming silver of the sword laying in the damp grass, and his hand moved to point at it. The thing lifted from the ground with steady slow speed, causing Tristan's eyes to widen.

Growling, Sam waved his hand in an arch above his head, and the sword did the same from its spot between the demons and Tristan. Sam spun and lunged forward, and the blade did the same, moving through a stunned demon like butter, such strength being wielded there was no way it was human. "I told you! Back the fuck up!" he snarled, then pulled the blade free of the body, letting it stumble backwards before one swift strike decapitated the creature, letting it fall grotesquely to the ground. The next creature was dispatched with the same ease, quick and effortless, and the third fell to a blow that cut it in two from groin to nose.

Tristan watched all of this with an awe that would have been amusing if it hadn't been so bloody sad. And when all was said and done, the creatures beat and gone to dust around them, Tristan collapsed tiredly against the damp grass. "Where did you learn that?" he asked numbly, now that the immediate fear of death was gone, Tristan's emotional pain returning.

"Some friends of yours," Sam said, coming to collapse on his knees beside Tristan. One hand came out, gently fingering one of his mate's wounds with a hiss. "Can you walk?"

"Yea, I think so." He sighed, closing his eyes to stave off the flow of tears that threatened to come.

"Get up, Tristan; we'll talk in the Car." Sam said, offering him his hand in an attempt to help him up.

"No..." he growled, turning away from Sam.

"Don't make me use my new power on you." Sam threatened, sounding utterly serious.

"I don't want to go home with you, Sam." Tristan said again, softly, heaving a soft sigh as the first of many tears leaked its way out and down his cheek.

"Tristan, I'm asking you to trust me, come home with me, and I will explain everything." Sam said softly, one hand coming up to gently brush away the damp strands of golden hair that stuck to his mate's forehead. "I promise you, Tristan, I love you more then anything in this world or any other." He murmured, leaning in to look into his teary eyes. "Look at me." He commanded, and Tristan was surprised by the strength of his voice, so much so in fact he obeyed, looking into the chocolate eyes of his lover.

"I love you, Tristan." Sam repeated, "What happened was bullshit, Carolyn drugged me." He said, and Tristan could see the rage still burning in Sam's eyes. "I don't want anyone but you. You are my mate, my heart, gods I'm so sorry you were hurt by her."

Tristan never said anything, unable to speak as Sam continued to rub his stray locks of hair back. The simple touch was enough to make Tristan want to throw himself into Sam's arms and cry for years. But he wasn't going to get the chance, because as his tears continued to fall Sam leaned in and began to kiss them away, soft gentle brushes of his lips over his wind-burned flesh.

"Come on, love, stand up, let me take you home. Let me care for you." Sam said again, and this time Tristan allowed his mate to help him to his feet, still remaining silent for a long time as Sam began to lead him back to the car.

"I've decided," Sam began as Tristan leaned on him and they both began to head back towards the car. "That you are getting a cell phone, so I can call you when I miss you." He says, and then continues babbling on. "Because I realized that I started to think you didn't need me anymore, because I missed you every day. This just isn't working, so we'll have to start something else."

"I didn't know you were so upset," Sam cringed as he heard the gravely sound of Tristan's voice; it was obvious he'd been crying quite a bit.

"Shhh, love, it was my responsibility to tell you that I was having problems, and I didn't." Sam stopped Tristan, curling an arm about his mate as they walked for some time in silence.

When the gas station came into view, Sam pointed, "Its right up here, love." He said quietly, leaning in to nuzzle at Tristan's shoulder, kissing around a rather jagged looking cut with a grimace. "Damnit, I can't take you home like this, we need to stop in town at a hotel so I can clean you up."

Tristan could barely hear what was being said anymore, as all of his attention was taken up with putting one foot in front of the other, to continue walking when in all honesty he felt as if he was about to fall dead from exhaustion. Remembering what it felt like to be tired and feeling it are two completely separate things, and if this is what happened when he and Sam fought, he was determined not to fight with him anymore. On the other hand, it was rather nice to have his mate fluttering over him like this.

Sam got Trist settled in the passenger side of the car belted him in and then ran to the driver's side. He turned the key in the ignition and then turned around before heading for the freeway. He took the first exit with a hotel sign, veering off the ramp and turning into the parking lot. It took under fifteen minutes to get a room rented, and by that point Tristan was beginning to feel a bit better, a bit more awake. He blinked as Sam opened his door to lead him towards the room.

When he got the door unlocked he ushered Tristan in. Trist almost immediately headed for the bed, but Sam grabbed him by the arm, "Whoa, love, bath or shower first." He chuckled as he began to pull his love into the bathroom and gently began to undress him. He pushed the tattered and torn coat from his shoulders, letting the expensive leather fall crumpled to the floor, then pulled at his shirt until he got it over Tristan's head.

"Sam..." Tristan's eyes misted with tears as he glanced down at Sam, who'd knelt down in front of him to begin working his belt and pants off. "Sam, I don't think I want you to touch me right now. I... I know that you said she drugged you, but I saw, I saw ... what could she gave given you to ..." The hot tears scalded Tristan's cheeks as they slid down to roll off his chin.

"She put XTC in my beer, Tristan. I don't want her, I want you." He said, pushing Tristan so that he could rest with his back against the sink, then lifted one foot and went to work at Trist's boot laces. He pulled one shoe off at a time, and the entire time Tristan cried Sam just tried to remember that he was doing all he could do. It would take time and physical touch to remind Tristan how much he loved him. He got both shoes off, setting them aside.

"But... you were on top of her, you wanted her, you wanted her." He moaned softly as Sam's hands continued to work, pulling the grass and mud stained white pants from his damp hips. Sam realized Tristan must have spent the night out in the blistering cold, because he was soaked down to the bone. He got every last scrap of clothing off of Tristan then stood and pulled his own clothing from his body in one swift motion, kicking his shoes off and leaning over to turn on the water, sending an almost immediately hot stream of water spraying from the shower head.

"Get in." Sam demanded, it was a command, and Tristan blinked in a pain daze and nodded his head, getting in. Sam followed directly behind him, and brought his hands up to stroke along Tristan's abs, "Tristan." He said, looking up into his eyes, one hand coming up to grip his chin. "I would like nothing more then to watch that cold hearted bitch burn in hell for the rest of her bleeding days. Does this sink into your skull? She hates me, she never loved me. She used me. The only thing in my life that is pure is you. And I'll be damned if I let that little cock slut fuck it up." Tristan's eyes widened at Sam's words. Sam had always been the darker one, but something had definitely snapped in him to get him to be so forceful.

Sam brought his face in close, dark brown eyes burning into the grass green of Tristan's. "We have things to work out, every couple does. Some very smart people reminded me that nothing is easy, just because you are my soul mate doesn't mean I get to slack on my duties. You. Are. Mine. It's not just the other way around. I have a responsibility to tell you what I need, and I have been so torn up inside thinking you didn't need me any more that I didn't realize I wasn't doing what I needed to do. Tell you the damned truth." Sam's mouth hovered over Tristan's and for a moment Trist thought that he would get violent despite his loving words.

"You and I are going to spend hundreds of years together, Tristan. I don't die, just like you. Your not the only one with superman powers in this relationship, I'm not weaker then you, I'm not less than. And I realize you never thought that I was it was, either. I'm done thinking that way. And I'm going to claim you as MY partner as much as you have claimed me as yours. Do you understand me?" Sam's words made Tristan's heart hammer against his chest. Was he saying what Trist thought he was saying?

Since the first night, the first time they'd made love, Sam had been the bottom. He never wanted to top, he would get to shy, he would look away and no matter how much Tristan tried to get him to Sam would always shake his head and tell him that he didn't feel comfortable like that. Tristan loved him, of course, and figured that it would be what it would be. It wasn't until that moment that Tristan realized that it wasn't because Sam wanted to bottom; it was because he felt submissive to him, less than, not strong enough to dominate Tristan.

Trist had a feeling he was about to get the other extreme, as is generally the case with repressed feelings.

And damn was he glad.

Sam's arms bracketed him as the hot water pounded against Tristan's back, and for a moment he gazed into his mate's eyes. "I'm going to care for you tonight, I'm going to clean your wounds, I'm going to draw you into bed, and I'm going to make you mine. Tell me right now if you object; tell me right now if you don't want it, because after this moment I will not allow you to object." His chocolate eyes burned with such an intense lust, that Tristan, who'd been silent until now, moaned softly and leaned back against the cool tile wall.

"Sam," the name came ground out in a soft whimper, "Please..." he gasped softly. It was all Sam needed to crush his body against Tristan's pinning him to the wall as the thrum of water fell about them, his mouth pressing Tristan's in a kiss that left them both weak kneed and breathing heavy.

Taking a washcloth from its spot on a rack against the wall, Sam lathered it up and began to slowly stroke over Tristan's body. He was ever attentive, gently soothing away cuts and stings even as he sent hot lusty gazes up at Tristan every few moments. It was more then obvious that taking things slowly was hard on him, but he was going to make sure Tristan was well before he drained the last bit of his energy.

The washcloth slid downward along his thighs, then up along the inner part of his thighs as Sam kneeled down in the tub, pressing his lips in a soft trail of kisses down Tristan's belly. "I'm not going to shy away from anything concerning us anymore, Tristan. I'm yours, and you are mine, in every way imaginable." He murmured as he washed every last inch of Tristan's legs and then up against his balls and down the length of his already incredibly hard cock. "Turn." He murmured, leaving Tristan nearly crying with need. These gentle fleeting touches were almost more then he could bare.

Turning, Tristan put both hands against the wall and bent his head down, letting the water slide down his back in a sensual cascade, the heat bringing goose bumps along his flesh, making him shiver before Sam had even touched him. Standing once more, Sam began to wash along his back, pausing to places kisses tenderly along his shoulders, the back of his neck, the center of his upper back. Then, completing the upper back he went once more to his knees, nuzzling in at the base of his spine, biting at the swell of Tristan's ass teasingly as the washcloth slide sensually between his ass, letting the touch linger only a moment while Tristan gasped for breath.

"Don't move." Sam commanded softly, and Tristan didn't argue, he didn't want to move, he wanted to be held, touched, kissed and bitten by the man he loved, and the fact that Sam was finally taking control was making Tristan want to scream and want to melt into a little puddle. The wash cloth continued to slide too slowly along his legs until every last bit of him was clean, and then the washcloth fell to the bottom of the tub, no longer important. Tristan began to turn around, but Sam stopped him with one word. "Still." And he shivered at the strength of it, stilling immediately.

Lips and hands moved in an erotic dance over the sensitive flesh of Tristan's thighs and ass and back. Fingertips gently stroked along the inside of his thighs, from knee to groin, then gently caressed and fondled his heavy balls. But what really shocked Tristan was when one hand came up to stroke along the crack of his ass, fingering and teasing gently at the tight opening that hadn't been well used in far, far to long, and Sam did something he'd never even have dreamed of doing before. It was a shock at first, that warm wet feeling of a tongue sliding against his tight pucker, but it was hardly hesitant.

There was nothing hesitant about this side of Sam.

The first reaction Tristan had was to stiffen because he simply couldn't believe Sam would be doing this willingly, but when his hand curled about Tristan's waist to slide down his lower belly and rest against his cock Sam felt his lover relax, and he took that moment to delve his tongue deeper into the tight ring of muscle. There was nothing unpleasant about it, not even a little, and as Tristan's breathing grew more and more labored he began to stroke and fondle his cock almost absently, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Please, oh Sam..." Tristan moaned, beginning to turn.

"Still." The one word, forcing Trist to rethink his action and remain still. He was going absolutely nuts, and Sam knew it. It was hard for him to give up the control that he'd been used to possessing, and while he wanted to give it up, it left him in a strange sort of limbo of needing to submit and needing to test his loves will to dominate.

Sam continued to lick and lap and plunge his tongue in and out of Tristan until his knees began to buckle and his body began to shake. His hand stroked him, slow teasing strokes that were geared towards driving insane but not granting the release he so dearly needed. By the time Sam finally had his fill of tasting his loves ass he stood, drawing him in close and bit down softly on that sensitive flesh between his neck and shoulder, knowing how much Tristan liked it. He moaned helplessly, his chest heaving with each breath.

Sam leaned in, nuzzled along his neck, and then whispered in his ear. "Get out of the shower, dry yourself, and get in the bed." The words were soft, gentle, and they held and edge to them that was unmistakable. He wouldn't accept no for an answer.

Tristan groaned and closed his eyes, then nodded his head and forced himself to pull away from his salvation, getting out of the shower, taking a towel and heading into the room. Sam followed right behind him, drying off quickly then pulling on his jeans hastily, leaving the zipper undone as he walked out of the bathroom. He didn't even turn his head towards Tristan as he walked through the room, not even a little glance as if he was so certain that he'd have done what he was told that he had no need to say anything else.

He pulled his keys off the desk, and then walked out the door, leaving it wide open to let the cool night air in and anyone who choose to look in see his naked and delectable Trist laid out in the bed.

For a moment, Tristan wanted to follow Sam, and he whimpered quietly, but he had the feeling that if Sam returned to find him out of bed there would be some interesting things happening to his body. So he stayed put, not quite certain how this little game would end up playing out. It seemed like ages, but in reality it was only a few moments before Sam returned, holding something small in his hand. He closed the door slowly, and then placed his keys on the desk once more before he turned to see if Tristan was still in bed.

Fireworks went off inside his chest and sparked things lower into excitement to see Tristan in bed just like he was told to be. It wasn't just the fact he'd obeyed, it was the look on his face, such sensual tenderness. Innocence. Tristan isn't the most innocent of men, but when he looked at him in that moment he could have been called nothing else.

Tristan couldn't pull his eyes from that little v where Sam's pants were left unzipped, the soft line of curls disappearing into his jeans. He could see the luscious length of his loves cock poking through, and the idea that Sam had walked so exposed out in the open had Tristan moaning again. Oh his love was turning out to be so perfect. Sam kept whatever it was that he'd gotten hidden in his hand and came to stand at the foot of the bed.

"Come here," he murmured, and Tristan immediately obeyed, crawling on his hands and knees to the foot of the bed then sat back and tilted his head up, waiting for the next order. Sam leaned down, one hand cupping his chin as he brushed his mouth over Tristan's in a gentle kiss. "Now, slowly push my pants off." He whispered his breath hot against Trist's mouth.

Tristan thought he'd go insane, but he did exactly as he was told. He hooked his fingers into his mate's pants, slowly pulling them down over his hips as he leaned in to kiss the rippled and defined muscles of his abdomen. When his cock sprung free of its confinement, Tristan glanced up with such longing in his eyes that Sam thought he'd explode from the pleasure of the sight alone. But he shook his head, and Tristan moaned, fighting the urge to take that rigid member into his mouth and eat him up.

"Kiss me." Sam demanded, and Tristan moved up his body to press his mouth to his mates, giving him a kiss that left Sam panting and Tristan making soft whimpering sounds in the back of his throat. It was perfect.

"Lay down, on your back." Sam murmured, and Tristan did as he was told. This game was making him so hot, he didn't even care who was more dominant, and all he cared about was doing exactly what Sam wanted.

Crawling onto the bed on hands and knees, Sam moved between Tristan's legs, placing a small bottle of lube that he'd retrieved from his car beside him. Tristan bit his lower lip, excitement boiling up within him.

"I love you, Sam." He whispered softly, unable to remain silent as his lover maneuvered himself between his legs, pressing the rigid length of his shaft against the tender warm flesh of his ass. Sam smiled down at him, a smile that opened up his face and made him heartbreakingly beautiful with his dark hair and coffee-colored eyes. He was dark and lovely, and Tristan wanted to eat him up.