Title: Discomfort

AUTHOR: Majandra

Email: flavorlesschocolate@hotmail.com

RATING: PG through PG-15

PAIRING: Brooke/Sam

DISCLAIMER: Ha! Me, own any of this? I should be so lucky.

I woke up this morning covered in a thin sheen of sweat, hopelessly tangled in my blankets, with a name on my lips. There was a reason for my exquisite discomfort. It's a Sam shaped reason.

So I staggered into the bathroom intending to shower and take my mind off of my Sam shaped discomfort. No such luck… the reason for my unease was in the shower already, singing to herself. I stood there, watching her.

There's something about my beautiful brunette housemate. There's something about the way she's just so damn sexy, and she doesn't even know it. It's an unconscious sort of sensuality, and this morning, standing in the bathroom watching her through the shower curtain this unconscious sensuality was driving me mad.

Standing in the shower, she was singing sweetly but quietly, something about complications… "Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?" or something like that. I could have stood there and listened for hours, but a couple of minutes later she shut the shower off and stepped out. I beat a hasty retreat.

When I heard her pottering around in her bedroom I knew it was safe to go and have a shower. I walked in and immediately smelled her smell, a mixture of vanilla and musk that drove me even crazier. I have it bad.

Standing in the shower I could feel the tell tale ache between my legs that I knew from experience wouldn't go away until I did something about it. The only problem was, I couldn't do anything about it, because I was running late as it was. Deciding a cold shower would be best for all concerned, I was in and out like a flash and dressed ready for school.

I walked down to the kitchen and she was there, leaning over the counter reading the newspaper while eating a piece of toast. Melted butter was dripping off the sides of the toast and running down her fingers. She took a moment away from her reading to place a finger in her mouth and lick off all the butter. My mouth must have dropped, and I know I was salivating. But instead of doing anything, I just mumbled a "Good morning" and prepared myself some cereal.

After her toast she joined me at the table and had cereal with me. I wanted to be that spoon. Just the way she put it in her mouth and consumed the mouthful that the spoon carried, I wanted to be the spoon. I'd wanted to be the butter-covered finger. I wanted her.

My brain kicked in and I offered her a ride to school. She accepted with a bright smile. My body went into overdrive. Her lips, her tongue… when she's laughing, she does this adorable thing with her tongue in her teeth… but she wasn't laughing, she was smiling, smiling at me. And my temperature was rising.

I watched her slide into the passenger seat. I watched her buckle her safety belt. I watched her adjust her side mirror slightly to apply lip-gloss. I wanted to be the lip-gloss. I wanted to lick the lip-gloss off her lips. Taking a deep breath, I started the car, and jumped about a mile when she placed her hand on my arm.

"What?" I asked, startled.

"Safety belt," she reminded me, chuckling a little at her "Mom" impression. Shaking my head to clear it, I buckled myself in and we drove to school.

She got out before me. She said goodbye, unbuckled herself and opened her door, ready to get out. I just sat there. I watched her get out, I watched her bend down to shut the car door, and I'm ashamed to admit I sneaked a peek down her top. I was pleasantly surprised by what I saw. I'm also ashamed to admit I watched her walk away, admiring the way her snug jeans hugged every curve.

The ache was there; a niggly discomfort and I still couldn't do anything about it. It was getting so that I didn't WANT to do anything about it, I was happy to live with it. I didn't want anything or anyone taking it away but her.

Shakily, I got out of the car and headed for my locker. Josh was standing there, waiting for me. He kissed me, and even aside from my feelings about PDAs, it just felt wrong. All the pent up feelings I'd had all morning were just so much more than anything Josh was causing me to feel. I knew this wasn't going to be a happening thing.

So I broke up with him.

I told him the truth. I told him I didn't love him any more. What I didn't tell him was that I was lusting after my beautiful brunette housemate.

I watched her talk to her friends, doing the cute tongue thing. The ache got worse. I tried to ignore it, but it was nagging at me and I was finding it hard to concentrate. Nicole was saying something, anything to get my attention, but I couldn't focus on her, she was just a blur to me. All I could think about was the aching between my legs, and short of getting myself off in the Novak (which I would never, ever do!) there was nothing I could think of to do about it.

I sat next to her in Bio and I don't think I heard a word of what the teacher said. I was much too bust memorizing every detail of her profile, mostly her mouth. I kept fantasizing about her lips, pressed to mine, and her tongue in my mouth. She turned to me at one point and asked me if I was okay.

I lied and said yes.

Somehow I made it to lunch and I didn't eat a thing. The world was continuing as usual without me as I calmly sat at our table and unashamedly stared at her.

She was staring at me too.

The ride home was fairly quiet. She tried talking about her day, but gave it up, as she admitted, when she realized she had nothing to say. Neither did I, nothing that wasn't "Sam, I want you" anyway.

Dad and Jane were out. What a big surprise. So I decided to make us tea. She sprawled on her stomach on the living room floor to do her homework, her thick dark hair sliding over her right shoulder, leaving the left side of her neck exposed. I wanted to go and straddle her back, and kiss the milk white skin that I could see. I wanted to undress her and make love to her all night.

I poured wine to go with our meal.

We ate, and we drank, and then we had dessert, and drank, and then we drank some more. It was a Friday night and we had nothing better to do, so we went to watch a movie. We weren't drunk. I wasn't drunk. I wish I was, maybe this next part would have been easier. Oh well, it all turned out for the best.

She sat next to me, and we huddled up underneath a blanket. The nights were getting colder. I could feel the heat emanating off her body, and the ache got excruciating. I moved a little, and my jeans pressed against the center of the aching, and it felt so delicious I whimpered slightly. She turned to face me.

"Brooke?" she ventured.

"Sam?" I questioned.

She kissed me. I'll swear to it in a court of law, she kissed me first. That doesn't mean to say I was idle during the proceedings though. I took advantage of the situation and did something I'd been dreaming about for a long time. I sucked her tongue into my mouth and reveled in her low moan.

She undid the snaps on my jeans, threw the blanket off of us and laid me back on the sofa, never letting our lips break contact. Her fingers undid my top and removed it along with my bra. I was shaking, the ache, the discomfort was reaching a peak and I needed… I don't know what I needed. I needed her to do… something, anything!

Breaking for air, she looked at me, her eyes half glazed with passion but with a smile on her lips. Good. I always hated it when Josh got too serious with me; I'd wished we could keep it fun all the time. Sam was keeping it fun.

She dipped a finger in my panties and I moaned. I moaned low, and long, and loud, because it was pleasure bordering on pain. I needed her so bad.

"Sammy, I need you, so bad!"

And she came through for me. She ducked her head and began she sweetest lapping at the flesh between my legs, the part of me that had been aching all day, and I felt… hot. And sweaty, and I felt like I was going to burst.

And I did burst. I exploded, without much more prompting, and I came all over her face, and then she kissed me again. I could taste myself on her and it was intoxicating, so I cleaned up her face and pushed my fingers inside her. My discomfort was all but gone, and I had a feeling she would like me to take care of hers.

Sammy's a screamer. She almost raised the roof with her orgasmic cries. She came back to earth slowly, with a big grin on her face, placing tiny kisses all over my face. She lay on top of me and I pulled the blanket over us, both of us too spent to move.

I woke up the next morning covered in a thin sheen of sweat, hopelessly tangled in Sam. And all my discomfort was gone.