Title: Kissing Lessons
Summary: Sam is a horrible kisser. Pietro offers his services. (slash, one-shot)
Warnings: Slash and pretty boy-kisses
Disclaimer: These boys aren't mine. I just like to think about them making-out (and other naughty things).
Amelia Note: Do not ask where this idea came from. Personally, I blame Beaubier, because somehow, Wanda/Sam morphed into Pietro/Sam in my demented little head one day. Hey! Do I get to ridiculously merge the names together since I'm the only person to ever consider this pairing? Awesome. Pieam? Piam? Satro? I like Pieam. What d'ya'll think? It's kind of like "Pie I am."
This fanfic brought to you by too many chocolate covered espresso beans.
Oh yeah, and Sam's accent is brought to you by my accent. Which is also a nice Kentucky-twang (with a bit of Ozarker thrown in).
He wished the ground would open up and swallow him whole. He wished he could forget what happened with Amara. He wished she would forget what happened. He wished most especially that Bobby and Roberto would never find out. They'd never let him live it down. God, he wished for no one to ever find out.
"If wishes were horses, you'd have a whole corral full, Guthrie," he mumbled to himself.
Sam leaned up against the fence surrounding Bayville Park's duck pond. He shouldn't be out this late; it was past curfew (nearly midnight!). None of the adults knew where he was at, since he'd blasted off without a word to anybody.
But the air felt clear here. He could think here.
Sam closed his eyes and thought hard. What was so horrible about the way he kissed that Amara laughed at him? He couldn't be that bad, could he? Sure, it had been his first kiss, but honestly, what was so bad about that? It's not like Amara had a lot of people to compare him to, right?
"It couldn' been tha' bad."
"What couldn't have been that bad?"
Sam jumped and crashed straight through the fence.
"Oops," Quicksilver said with a laugh. "My bad. You alive X-Geek-in-Training?"
The so-called X-Geek-in-Training looked up at the silver-haired teen from the ground. "I have a name, Quicksilver," Sam snapped.
The Brotherhood member tilted his head to the side. "Sorry, Samuel? Is that it? Samuel?"
Sam blinked. "Err, yeah. Mostly it's just Sam, though."
"Nice to meet you, without trying to save the world at the same time." He offered a slender hand.
"Well, hell, I don't even know what your name—your real name—is." Sam took the proffered hand and hauled himself to his feet. He was mildly surprised when he didn't accidentally pull the other boy off balance. That's what usually happened.
"Pietro."
Sam scratched the back of his head. "Well, thanks for helpin' me up. 'Course, it was your fault I fell down."
"You weren't paying attention."
"You move s'fast it wouldn'a mattered."
"Whereareyoufrom?"
"Huh?" Sam blinked. He hadn't understood a word.
Pietro sighed, as if resigned. "I said, 'where are you from?'"
"Oh, uh, Kentucky, 'round Middlesboro (1)."
"That's nice, now that you are sufficiently distracted, can I ask you another question?"
Sam glared. "Did it ever occur t'ya I was here, alone, s'that I could think, alone?" He turned on his heel and began walking away. It didn't matter which direction, as long as he could get away from the annoying speed demon.
"What were you thinking about?" Pietro asked, walking calmly beside Sam.
"Things."
"I'm going to have to work really hard for this, aren't I?"
Sam sighed. "Look, I don't even have a good enough friend at the Institute t'talk t'bout this. What makes you think I'll talk t'you?" He continued walking, noticing vaguely that he was heading towards the playground. "For tha' matter, what makes ya want t'talk t'me?"
"You're cute and your accent is just damn sexy."
Sam tripped and crashed into the sidewalk, leaving a jagged hole. He'd been so shocked his shield hadn't gone up properly and he was a little dazed from the impact. He sat up carefully, wondering if he had a concussion. It had happened before, when he didn't time the shield and crash just right. Apparently it happened when he was completely stunned as well.
"Ya didn' jus' say tha'," Sam blurted out. His accent sounded wretched, whether from the concussion (he was sure he had one by now) or just the general bewilderment.
Pietro crouched down next to him, looking mildly concerned. "Are you hurt?" He reached a hand up, feeling for a bump on Sam's forehead. "You seem okay."
"No! No I am not okay!" Sam suddenly found himself shouting. "I jus' fell down an' broke another sidewalk—"
"Another?"
"—the girl who's supposed t'be my girlfriend just laughed her head off at me 'cause apparently I can't kiss worth a damn. I'm bein' badgered by a Speedy Gonzalas wanna-be—"
"Areyoureferingtome?"
"—and my head hurts!"
Exhausted (and extremely embarrassed), Sam hugged his knees to his chest and hung his head. His face was on fire. He just wished silently that Pietro would leave. He felt a gust of wind and thought that for once, his wish had come true. Then there was a hand on his shoulder, shaking him slightly.
"I brought some aspirin for your head."
Surprised, Sam looked up. Pietro was sitting, cross-legged, directly in front of him. He had a couple of white pills in the hand that was stretched out toward Sam. The Brotherhood member didn't look like he was about to laugh or make jokes.
"I can't believe I just did tha'," Sam muttered. He accepted the pills from Pietro with a shaking hand.
Pietro grinned. "I can't believe you did that either."
"If you tell anybody I will crash straight inta your legs an' break 'em."
Pietro tilted his head. "What makes you say you can't kiss? Everyone can kiss."
"I'm horrible at it. Amara really didn't like it when I kissed her."
"Maybe you're kissing the wrong person."
"What?"
"It's like this," Pietro said. "If you don't enjoy kissing a person, you aren't going to do a very good job right? Maybe just don't like her." He paused. "I don't like her very much. She's kind of spoiled."
Sam shook his head. "Nah, Amara's real sweet—"
"The laughing is an excellent indication of that attribute."
"—and real pretty. Why wouldn't I like her?" He looked at Pietro, honestly confused.
"Kiss me."
"What!" Sam shouted, jumping to his feet. "What di'you just say?"
Pietro stood up quickly, grinning up at the confused Sam. "Kiss me. I'll give you kissing lessons."
"Wha—why would ya—what makes ya think—what?"
"I'll give you kissing lessons," Pietro explained patiently. "You'll be an expert when I'm done with you. Come on, I won't tell."
"This has got t'be the stupidest thing I've ever done," Sam muttered. "I can't believe I'm actually gonna d'this."
A few steps forward brought him directly in front of Pietro, so close that he could feel the other's body heat. The silver-haired teen just smiled up at him as Sam bent his head down to close the gap between their heights. For some reason he felt his stomach do flip-flops as soon as his lips touched Pietro's. He closed his eyes tightly.
Pietro's thin arms wrapped loosely around Sam's neck. At the same time, Sam's hands somehow found their way to Pietro's hips. Sam leaned into the kiss a bit more, surprised at how nice it felt to be kissing Quicksilver. He smelled really good, like fresh air. His fingers were burying themselves into Sam's hair, holding him firmly in place. In response, Sam gripped Pietro's slender hips even tighter, pulling him closer. Back in some corner of his mind, he realized he'd never enjoyed kissing Amara this much.
Feeling bold, Sam deepened the kiss, running his tongue across Pietro's lips. Immediately, the silver-haired boy's lips opened, allowing Sam to explore. Pietro tasted as good as he smelled, Sam thought. It wasn't a taste Sam could put into words, but it was definitely intoxicating. The other boy's tongue began to move against his, gently and teasingly. One of Sam's hands slipped underneath Pietro's shirt, pressing against his hot skin.
Realization hit Sam like a train. He was standing in the park—where anyone could see—making out with Pietro Maximoff. It was also way past curfew, which meant someone would probably be looking for him, telepathically, and sending Scott to fetch him. In a sudden panic at the thought of Scott seeing him kissing Pietro, he pushed the other boy back harshly.
"Hey!" Pietro exclaimed. "Whatdidyoudothatfor?"
"Sorry," Sam mumbled, "but it's past curfew and someone will be lookin' for me soon."
Pietro made a face. "'Someone' as in Scott?"
Sam reached a hand up and scratched the back of his head, a nervous habit he'd picked up from his father. "Yeah," he replied. "Look, it's not tha' I wasn't enjoyin' myself—'cause I was." He felt himself getting hot, a sure sign he was blushing.
Pietro looked thoughtful. "You need more kissing lessons. My place, tomorrow." He grinned widely. "And you better not be showing anyone else what you've learned tonight, because I don't share very well." He stood on his tiptoes to give Sam one last kiss, then dashed off.
Sam blinked and touched his lips. "Right, kissin' lessons."
(1) Not in Cumberland county (where says the Guthries are from), but near the Cumberland Gap. Real town. Look it up. I was born there.
P.S. Listen to the song Rough and Ready by Trace Adkins and think about Sam. Go ahead. It's awesome.