How Sammy Met Andee (Unabridged)

Saucier moments from Sirca's sauciest couple

Verse Seven (Samael and York) | Verse Eleven (Samael and Andee) | Verse Fourteen (Samael and Andee) | Verse Seventeen (Samael and Mutt) | Verse Eighteen (Samael and Andee)


Verse Seven (Samael and York: The Rebound)


(Back to Verse 7)

York trembled a bit at the touch, letting a long, ragged breath rush from his jaws. "If -- whoa, gawd -- if you're sure, S-Sammy...ngh, shit..." He grit his teeth when Samael's fingers worked deftly to undo his belt, adding a half-chuckle: "You...you want me to sit down?"

"Not really," Samael muttered, his tongue dancing over his teeth as he tossed a quick look up to York. His friend gave him another concerned frown...which was lost when the belt unclasped and York's pants were swiftly jerked down. Samael's eyes lit up at the very welcome distraction of York's crotch and the pink flesh already rising to greet him. "Yeah, no need fer all'a that," he added in a low voice, reaching up to grasp into York's sheath and guide him down toward his muzzle.

"Ohh shit, okay," York panted, one hand snaking down to gently hold the side of Samael's head. "We're jus' gonna do this, then..."

"Yes we are," Samael rumbled before parting his jaws and lowering his head. York's arousal was still growing, but that was fine -- this was what Samael was built for. His tongue drifted over the tip of his companion's malehood, rewarded with a gentle curse and York's hips bucking forward to push his thickening flesh further into Samael's muzzle. He clutched into York's hips with both hands while his friend automatically spread his legs further to accommodate Samael dropping into a kneel.

Samael felt York's body shudder as he rolled his tongue around the emerging erection, more than capable of calling up his oral talents despite the booze. It made him feel triumphant, accomplished. Normally Samael wasn't a huge fan of having sex while this plastered...tended to dull the experience, make it less memorable, less emotionally powerful. But he wasn't looking for memorable. He was just looking to forget.

York started to pull his hips back, but Samael's claws dug firmly into his waist as he kept him held close. "Hoo...goddamn, Sammy..." York whispered, a shiver running through him. Samael felt his length eagerly continuing to burgeon upward into his maw, spreading his jaws wider as it thrummed with York's pulse. Samael's eyes slid shut and he waited until York's knot pushed free and nudged into his chin to finally, regretfully pull his head back.

The movement was slow and deliberate, each inch of his friend teased with his skillful motions, while the way York's fingers tightened into him drove his own delight higher. Something inside of him screamed for more, more of this, of anything that would drive out the intrusive thoughts. His teeth carefully caught the end of York's malehood and the urge that ran through him wasn't about to be ignored.

He shoved his head forward and used his hands to yank York toward him simultaneously, causing his length to rocket deep into the back of his throat. York gave a strangled cry, his other hand flying to the back of Samael's head while he arched his back. "Guh...geezus, Sammy..." he muttered as his legs quivered a bit while Samael pulled back again, only to bob down with even more gusto so his muzzle slammed into York's waist. "Holy fuck..." he groaned ecstatically, encouraged to start thrusting his hips as whatever fading hesitation was driven away by Samael's insistent ministrations.

York's hips worked into an unsteady pace while Samael's hands began to drift, satisfied as he now was by his companion's participation. He massaged slowly down one leg, the other hand moving up to rub over the base of York's tail and along the small of his back to draw out a shuddering gasp from the mounting sensations. His own body was coming alive in response to the hastened act, bolts of fiery excitement launching from his gut to dance along his limbs. This was much better. This felt good.

The alcohol had only been a gateway for the real narcotic. Samael wasn't just thriving, he was drowning himself in the erotic bliss of York's quickening onslaught, every ounce of his body craving for the raw, wanton passion rippling between them. His head whipped back and forth with movements swift enough that York's hips could barely keep up. Drool had long since begun to leak back out, thick strings of the stuff dribbling down across York's sheath and along his thighs while splattering back across his muzzle with each collision of his snout to his friend's crotch.

He felt York stiffening up already, his gasps increasing in volume and speed as his fingers shuddered around Samael's skull. Samael wanted every bit of his companion, but his needs weren't yet fulfilled, a growing hunger still begging for something stronger, something deeper. Andee was still there, his pained yet furious expression cutting through the blurring rush in and out of his muzzle. Samael trembled and for a moment, wrapped both arms around York's torso to force him to thrust his entire length in, knot and all.

York moaned loudly and doubled over, belting out Samael's name...only to give a jagged shout as the grey chupa threw his head back and choked down a lungful of air. York's erection throbbed dangerously, several thin streams spurting out across Samael's features as he panted hard and then hurriedly undid his own pants. "Not yet, York...jus' gimme a sec, you gimme a gatdamn sec," he half-pleaded, half-ordered.

He was all too aware he looked frantic, his harried movements giving away the instability eating away at him. York stared down at him, and Samael knew he would have backed off if he hadn't been blinded by the lust, by the climax that had to be only moments away. Samael was quick to kick his pants away, scrambling across the room and grabbing into the messy desk shoved into a corner, sending empty cans and dirty clothes scattering. "C'mon, buddy...give it to me," he whimpered, gazing over his shoulder as he arched his tail while presenting himself in the most enticing way possible.

York could do little more than nod dazedly as he lumbered over. "A-alright, Sammy...fuckin' hell," he panted, his eyes dancing anxiously. His whole body twitched as he quickly took position behind Samael, one hand gripping Samael's shoulder as the other carefully grasped into his arousal to line himself up. Samael whispered a silent blessing for his friend's focus as his claws dug into the sides of York's desk, drawing thin lines through the wood while he let his weight rest on the dinged surface.

All it took was the touch of York's malehood against him to bring his spine into a curve backward, however, the cries escaping his muzzle pleading immediately for more. He heard York's quiet curse again, feeling the way his friend was wrapped up in his frantic search for ecstasy. Samael was rarely a passive partner when intimacy was concerned, but he was beyond desperate now as he closed his eyes and launched his hips backward the moment he felt York press into him.

York hissed through grit teeth but doggedly leaned over Samael, one massive hand engulfing his hip as the other remained tight around his shoulder. Samael moaned as York drove himself in fully, losing himself in the familiar shadow of his companion's bulk, wanting to disappear completely into York's towering frame.

But even as the desk slammed forward with their passionate motions, even as York's muzzle released sharp grunts of effort next to Samael's, even as the larger male all but swallowed Samael as he pounded into him relentlessly...Samael's thoughts refused to let go. That lingering face was a stamp of disapproval, a stark reminder of Samael's collective failures, bursting through the haze of pleasure to ensure Samael did not forget that he really was just a miserable, suicidal slut who didn't deserve a meaningful relationship.

Tears began to roll down Samael's cheeks despite York's intoxicating rhythm. Samael shuddered violently with the bliss, yet his arousal only dribbled meekly, barely emerged. It didn't matter that York was giving him one of his most bestial performances yet. It didn't matter how in tune their bodies were, even their tails twisted together, or how passionately his fingers closed around Samael's trembling form. It didn't change the accusations slung from every corner of his conscience.

And yet he still needed this as York's cries became a mounting crescendo, one of Samael's arms looping back around to grip the back of York's head and keep him curled around his trembling body. A powerful shout, then the glorious pain and numbing pleasure of his knot punching into him. Samael yelped sharply as his legs collapsed, his body pinned down by York's hulking mass while the tan chupa gasped and began unloading into him with tiny, jagged thrusts.

Samael couldn't choke back the sob even as he clung tightly to the back of York's neck and tried to savor the sensation of his friend filling him so completely, pouring all his efforts into his limp frame. He could feel York twitch at the miserable sound and he shut his eyes tightly so he wouldn't see the way York gazed down at him even as he bucked with the intensity of his release. "Sammy? Sammy...hng, d-dammit...aw, shit, Sammy..."

York's arms immediately wrapped around his broken body, lifting him from the desk to delicately hold him back against his sweat-drenched form. Samael kept his eyes closed in shame as he whimpered and let the tears fall in a cascade over his messy muzzle. "Hold on, buddy, sorry...just...just gonna..." A blistering shock of agony as York quickly wrenched himself free, but Samael hardly offered more than a pitiful whine in spite of the pain.

(Back to Verse 7)


Red vs Blue © Rooster Teeth. Halo © 343 Industries. Concept by Myshu, assisted by The Department of Chupapology.

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