Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sam stared down at his cell phone screen. He'd completely forgotten he'd even installed this dating app on it. It seemed location-specific, because apparently it had matched him with someone living in the same building as him. 

He kind of wished he had known that before he'd started flirting with this random guy. He didn't even have a name on his profile, just 'Shutterbug', and his picture seemed to be an ascetic shot of the Montreal skyline. 

Maybe if he hadn't already had a few edibles. 

Maybe if it weren't 3 am.

Maybe if he had a single reason to avoid a serial killer… but none of that was true. 

The question lingered in the chat window, just above the space where he typed a response. 

Shutterbug: Can I ask something weird? 

That was a question that could only end with a best or worst-case scenario 

Sam: Sure, what?

…

Sam watched the dots for a while. He tried to busy himself with something else, but he kept going back to make sure Shutterbug was still typing. 

When the notification sound popped, Sam nearly dislocated his shoulder jumping for it. 

Sam scrolled through the text box, his heart rate climbing as he realized this guy had spent the entire hour typing. 

He planted his butt on the sofa and settled down to read whatever the fuck this was going to be. 

Sam: That is absolutely deranged

He sent the message at the end of his thought. Once he saw it in black and white and read it back, Sam realized he had forgotten to clarify his feelings on the matter. 

Sam: count me in

just teach me how to do it 

I've never tied anyone up before, never mind myself 

A pain in Sam's chest reminded him that breathing was still mandatory. Fortunately, Shutterbug didn't seem to have noticed as he launched right into the detailed instructions. 

It took a few days to get everything set up. Shutterbug had an exacting vision for how this was going to go.

Sam heard a sharp knock. He waited the requested 10 seconds before he opened the door and collected the box Shutterbug had left for him. 

The vestiges of Sam's survival instincts fought bravely to be noticed. This guy knew where he lived, and he was fast enough to be there in moments. 

There wasn't any going back now though; he couldn’t remove that knowledge from someone's head any easier than he could move somewhere else to escape Shutterbug if he turned out to be less of a gentleman in person. 

He did always have Plan B. Given his current financial situation, he'd been considering that more and more often. Maybe a traumatic incident could push him over the edge and get it over with… 

This very healthy train of thought vanished when Sam opened the box and was greeted with a very fancy piece of bondage gear. The two leather strips formed a diagonal cross over where his eyes would be.

Sam held it in both hands because it was simply too heavy to hold in one and fitted it to his face. One strap went around the back of his head, the other his neck, and both had fastenings for padlocks. 

The locks in question were right underneath it. They'd already been opened and set up. Shutterbug programmed them both so he would have complete control over when they were open and shut. 

Sam understood some people were more reclusive than others, but Shutterbug's aversion to being seen seemed to border on obsessive. It wasn't all that often that Sam encountered a kink he hadn't thought of before. If it even was a kink and not something else entirely. 

Shutterbug had explained they had a safety time-out. So Sam wasn't too worried about it, maybe more like interested. 

He went to the bathroom to take pictures of himself in the new gear and sent them to Shutterbug with a caption.

Sam: Are you afraid I'm going to peek? 

Sam saw the activity indicator light up. Then a long pause as he took his time admiring it. 

Shutterbug: better safe than sorry. It won't restrict your breathing unless you wear it incorrectly. It fits perfectly on you. I hope it's comfortable. 

Sam: I'll send you a picture with my mouth open if you tell me the truth about why you're so insistent on not letting me see you. 

…

Shutterbug: I'm shy. Will that do? But I'll take the pictures of you myself. It's not the same if I can't pose you. 

Sam: I don't understand how you're this interested in me. You know I'm just like some guy, right? 

Shutterbug: Beauty is in the beholder's eye. You're the one that I want. What more could a fella possibly say? Keep looking @ your gift. 

Sam went back into his living room and lifted the pillow the blindfold mask had been resting on, revealing a second bit of gear.

Four buckled cuffs connected with a cross. A notification popped on his phone, and Sam glanced down to see a diagram of how he would sit while restrained. It basically boiled down to him kneeling and sitting up straight with his wrists behind his back and anchored to his ankles.

Sam: I see. You're taking the pictures because all my limbs are accounted for? 

Shutterbug: they are. They're too valuable to let wander around willy-nilly, wouldn't you agree? 

Huh… sometimes shutterbug picked the strangest word choices, like he opened a thesaurus and picked the least currently used option. 

It was making it difficult to guess how old he might actually be. Maybe that was intentional, or maybe he was a dork? It seemed to be a toss-up between a dork or old because Shutterbug seemed to favour a folding camera that last saw production in the 1970s. 

Shutterbug: Don't forget to practice your kneeling.

Sam: wouldn't dare skip kneeling day 

Shutterbug: good. You're still not done, though. 

Sam: what? 

He flipped the box upside down, and something fell out of it. 

Sam: it's a little early for a collar isn't it? 

Shutterbug: ??? That's the tamest thing in the box

Sam: you know it's not about that 

Shutterbug: it's your training collar. You can wear it whenever you like. See how it feels to be my possession 

Sam: oh.  0////0 

Time passed all at once or not at all and never the one he wanted, but the time they agreed upon did eventually arrive. 

Sam felt more vulnerable than he had imagined. What if someone besides Shutterbug opened the door and-

Click 

Shutterbug closed the door behind him, turned the padlock and closed the safety latch. 

It had to be him. He was moving too confidently to be anyone else. Sam felt someone standing over him and then a hand touched his face, tilting his chin up. 

"Gorgeous…"

His voice sounded… a little robotic. He had to be using something to mask it. Sam wasn't overly surprised, given the lengths this guy will go to stay anonymous. 

Shutterbug traced his thumb over Sam's bottom lip. Should he say something? Sam didn't have any experience with… well, whatever you'd call this. 

"Let me take a few pictures while you're there. Then I'll see about rewarding you for being so obedient."

Sam nodded, his shoulders visibly relaxing as if the burden of deciding what happened next lifted off of them. 

Shutterbug ran his hand down Sam's back as a parting gift before going to set up his camera and tripod. 

The photo shoot had already been set up, so that was all that needed doing. 

He returned and held Sam's cheeks in his hands. He felt at least a little big if his hands were anything to go by. At least he was warm; one of them needed to be. 

"Where are my manners? I haven't even kissed you yet."

Whatever order of events they were going for, that wasn't it. Shutterbug wrapped his arms tightly around Sam, supporting his neck with one hand. Sam quickly found out why when a gentle kiss on the lips turned into an adventure for his entire mouth.  

Shutterbug was meticulous as ever, mapping out the inside of Sam's mouth tooth by tooth.

Their hips were pressed together. Sam's knees were in a fixed position, so Shutterbug straddled him to accommodate. 

It felt so good being pressed against someone like this.

Oral examination completed, their lips parted ways again. With his restored ability to speak, Sam elected for a soft whimper. 

"I'd like you to look so turned on you just can't stand it! You know they say life imitates art so… Would you mind if I touch you below the belt? I promise I will finish what I started once I have what I need."

"N-no, go right ahead."

"Thanks, Sam." 

And just like that, those nice warm hands were wrapped around the base of Sam's dick. It was a minor miracle he didn't ruin the pictures by finishing right then and there. 

Then again, Shutterbug had everything else under his complete control, so why not this? 

"Go ahead. Scream; let the tears flow. There's no one to hear you but me."

Sam thought he was exaggerating until Shutterbug turned his full attention to his fingers and feathered them expertly over some very sensitive bits of already sensitive bits. 

Sam was grateful he could breathe freely in his mask, because he was choking and gasping already. 

He'd somehow found Shutterbug's shoulder, and it was proving itself as a spot to hide until he faced the camera.

"S-Shu… shu…"

"That is a bit of a mouthful. Just call me Bug." 

"B-bug, how much more?" 

"Let me see."

Shutterbug took Sam's chin in one hand and pushed him back to get a better look. 

"I forgot how easily you blush…"

Sam wouldn't have classified 'getting a great hand job' as 'easy'. Regardless, he latched on to this crumb of information, squirrelling it away for later. So Shutterbug knew him from before, or had seen him at least. 

Something about what he was seeing made Shutterbug stifle back a groan. 

"Mhn… yeah, this should do nicely."

He took his hand back and stood up, leaving Sam alone on the floor. 

Maybe he hadn't thought this one through all the way. At least the camera made interesting sounds. It gave him something else to think about. 

Shutterbug made good on his name for a while, getting different angles on the same pose, not that Sam could be in any other pose at the moment. 

"There. All done. Let's give you a chance to stretch." 

The tension holding Sam up snapped as Shutterbug opened the clasp holding the cuffs and ankle bracelets together, and he face-planted into the carpet. 

"O-oh no, Sam!"

The voice-altering device couldn't hide the voice crack. 

Shutterbug rolled Sam onto his back. 

"I'm okay. Let's pretend that didn't happen," Sam muttered. 

"Right." 

Bug helped Sam stand up and dragged him over to the couch. Probably expecting Sam to take another spill if he didn't wrangle him, maybe that was true. 

It earned him a place in Shutterbug's lap though, and that was almost worth the embarrassment. He settled lengthwise on the sofa with his cheek against Bug's chest. 

Shutterbug took Sam's tied-up arms and looped around his neck like a scarf. Then he kissed Sam again, slightly less hungrily this time, but only slightly. He permitted Sam to take part, letting their tongues mingle more naturally. 

Sam half expected Bug to go back to the heavy petting, but he seemed just as interested in touching everything Sam offered from the toes on upward. 

Unfortunately, that didn't mean he was getting a break from being almost painfully turned on. Either it was the restraints, or the inherent danger of allowing someone he barely knew to have this much power over him, or he was just that out of practice after being lost in a depressive haze for so long. 

Maybe he should have told Shutterbug that there was only a 50/50 chance he'd actually be able to have an orgasm thanks to the SSRIs he was taking. 

Talking to Shutterbug had been one of the few things he'd done recently that hadn't constantly reminded Sam of exactly how depressed he was, so it had genuinely slipped his mind. 

Bug broke their kiss, and as soon as he had the chance to breathe, Sam realized he also badly needed a second to recover. 

"Are you enjoying this so far?" 

Sam nodded against Shutterbug's chest. 

"Tell me, what would you like to do first?" 

"Fuck my throat!" Sam's suggestion tore out of him the moment it had a chance. 

"Sa-Sam!" Bug seemed to pull it together just then, because he continued; "I can do that. Do your pose again, and I'll explain why in a moment."

Shutterbug helped untangle them enough so that Sam could kneel on one side of the couch. Bug snapped the two halves back together and moved some cushions around. 

"I'm going to flip you forward, okay?"

Sam nodded. He ended up lying on his stomach with a little extra padding around his chest to prop him up. His head in Shutterbug's lap, face down. 

Then Sam heard Shutterbug unzip his pants and rest his dick on Sam's cheek. The blindfold made it hard to tell, but Sam had the sinking kind of feeling that told him his face was the smaller party in this picture. 

Sam had thought this might be a good way to figure out what he was working with, since he wasn't allowed to see. Clearly, he was a moron. A moron who was about to die a very cool death, at least.  

"I'm glad you wore your collar. We're about to get a lot of use out of it." Bug mused, grabbing it with his right while taking Sam's hand with his left. 

"Squeeze if you need me to stop." 

…okay so maybe he wasn't going to die exactly… 

Shutterbug slid his fingers down the inside of Sam's collar until they were under his chin and guided Sam into position. Sam went for it, and Bug locked his wrist, holding his eager partner back. 

"Uh-uh, I decide when you get your treat," Bug reminded him. 

Sam knew he should give in and obey. It would be faster and easier, but something inside him refused. He shifted his weight around, trying to use his weight against Shutterbug, but the man had enough strength to hold him back.

After a few moments of pointless trashing, Sam made peace with the fact he wasn't getting what he wanted. 

"All done having a tantrum?" Shutterbug asked. Sam thanked the Lord he couldn't see whatever expression that display had earned him. "Good. Let's begin…"

Under his breath, Shutterbug added; "And I thought I was desperate…"

Sam didn't bother thinking of a comeback. As soon as he got what he wanted, he wouldn't be able to speak, anyway. 

Bug lowered him down. Sam held his breath, relaxing his jaw along with everything else. 

"There… is that deep enough for you?" Shutterbug purred. 

He released the collar and traced a finger down the front of Sam's throat. He followed the slight protrusion from the outside, stalling when he realized it topped out past Sam's vocal cords. 

Shutterbug pulled on the back of Sam's collar, but it wasn't much more effective than trying to drag a dog away from the food you just spilled all over the floor. He could get all but the tip out of Sam's mouth and what went up went right back down again. After a few moments of fighting it, Bug relented and started burying himself deeper in Sam's throat with each thrust. 

Sam could tell Bug was trying to keep the pace slow. Likely part of a misguided mission to take it easy on him. Sam timed his breathing, so he exhaled when Shutterbug pulled out and then held it while squeezing his throat muscles the moment Bug thrust back in. This put the pressure right around the tip of Shutterbug's dick, the sensitive glands at the tip forging through the narrowing passageway. 

Sam would occasionally swallow hard as Bug tried to pull out, forcing him to give in or fight to free himself. More often than not, Bug yanked his collar back down instead. Unable to finish breaking away. Sam grinned around his mouthful. Who was desperate now? 

Shutterbug thrust up with his hips while pulling down on Sam's collar, overshooting the swallowing muscles, then holding him there. Bugs's cock twitched on his tongue and shot a load directly down his throat. 

There was more where that came from. Sam swallowed around the pressure trying to keep things going down, but all he was doing was overstimulating Shutterbug. 

Bug grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed Sam off, dragging a string of cum with him and leaving it dripping from the corner of Sam's mouth.  

There was a pause where Shutterbug must have noticed the wet stain on the front of Sam's pants. 

"You came after I fucked your throat?!"

It was more like after Sam had been helplessly rutting against the couch for several minutes, but even if his vocal cords hadn't needed to recover from all the manual stimulation, he wouldn't let that slip if the assumption made him sound cooler. 

"You're such a slut." Sam had heard that a fair bit, but Shutterbug was the first to say it with pure awe.

"Dare I ask if you're satisfied?" 

Sam shook his head no. 

Shutterbug slipped out from underneath Sam and left him lying face down, posterior raised.

"Of course not. Amazing." 

Shutterbug snapped Sam's restraints apart and grabbed the ankle cuffs. Sam yelped as Bug dragged him across the sofa by his legs. 

Sam would have asked what he was trying to do, but Bug already had him bent over the arm of his couch, and everything he was wearing from bellybutton down was now in a heap on the floor. 

Bug pressed two lube-slicked fingers up against Sam's entrance. He took it pretty well, he thought, considering that was his only warning. 

Aside from his manners, Shutterbug was very good with his hands. Maybe it came with the territory handling little camera bits. At the very least, he didn't seem at all interested in skipping the foreplay. 

"You said it's been a while. Everyone else's loss, if you ask me, though I'm selfishly grateful that I get to break you in again." 

Sam had wondered if being quiet for a bit would encourage Shutterbug to fill the silence and let slip something that might help identify him. Though, the swelling around Sam's larynx was the real culprit here. 

"Maybe soon you'll only be able to remember what my touch feels like."

…

That was a very normal thing for someone to say. And he was going to compartmentalize that for later because he simply cannot deal with that right how. On top of everything else.

"First I'll have to learn how to keep up with you, my love…" Bug mused, still, apparently to himself. "-But for now, I'm going to cheat."

Sam truly had no clue where this was going. 

Then the distinct rattle of a vibrator broke the silence. 

Ah. That kinda cheating. 

Bug had it ready to go, and as it suddenly bottomed out before settling into place. Sam realized it was more like a butt plug that vibrated and thrust into the user. It sat flush enough with his body that he absolutely couldn't take it out with his wrists bound, nor was it likely to fall out on its own.

He heard Bug chuckle at him as he walked away. 

Maybe Sam could pass this off as a home invasion if he killed this guy. 

The murderous thoughts dissipated as the toy spun up a bit, seemingly on its own. 

Sam dragged himself over the armrest and onto the sofa. If he was being played with, he was going to be comfortable. 

A moment after he landed, he heard a flash go off. 

So he knew where Shutterbug was. After the initial wave of embarrassment wore off, Sam realized that this could only be for Bug's personal use. If he gave him something good to remember him by, he'd have to come back.

Not that it didn't kind of sound like the weird guy he met on the Internet might be a stalk- ah. 

Later-Sam problem. As in, it's already too late for this one. 

Sam sat up and spread his legs open, ending up in a butterfly position, enough to show off the toy.

He heard a little gasp and a flurry of pictures. 

Sam stuck his restrained wrists over the back of the sofa so he'd stay upright while slouched as much as he wanted. Then, he did just that. Shutterbug didn't seem to mind, maybe because this position hiked his sweater up around his shoulders so that more of his belly was visible. 

With his partner occupied, Sam decided he'd focus on trying to get along with this new friend. At least Bug had good enough taste that it didn't feel like nothing, even if he'd had his heart set on something else. The thrusting part helped at least pretend, and he knew that mindset could help elevate even a bad toy. 

He pictured straddling Bug's lap instead. He rocked his hips a bit to help sell it to himself. Bit by bit he tried adjusting until he found a position with one leg hooked over the armrest, that came close to hitting the sweet spot. 

"Ah-ahaa~" Sam moaned. 

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Bug asked between flashes. 

Sam ground his teeth together.

"O-oh you're still h-here?" He asked, cracking up the innocence in his voice until it reached parody levels. 

Shutterbug didn't reply, but the toy in Sam's ass sped up suddenly. He kept taking pictures as Sam writhed, ping-ponging between too much and not enough. 

Another eternity passed, but bit by bit the relentlessness nature of the toy wore him down. 

"Are you close?" Shutterbug asked. 

"M-mhmm.." 

Bug pushed Sam down with one hand on his sternum, then grabbed the flared base of the toy, shutting it off with the press of a button and pulling it out. 

"Then that's enough for now. Can't have you getting too far ahead of me." 

Sam's brain short-circuited, bypassing whatever inhibition stopped him from biting people. 

He bit Shutterbug on the forearm. His accuracy while blindfolded seemed more impressive if they didn't realize he would have bitten anything close enough. 

Bug yelped. They stayed stuck there until Sam realized what he was doing and relaxed his jaw. He could hear Shutterbug hyperventilating. Sam expected retribution or rebuke; what he got was a little wavering voice asking;

"O-ow.. A-are you mad at me, Sammy-kin?"

Sam took a deep, fortifying breath. 

This. Fucking. Guy. 

"Put your dick in me and I'll make my mind up after."

"what?"

"You heard me. You got a hard-on from taking those pictures or not?" 

"Ah-ahaha!" 

"Bug."

"I'll grab the lube."

Both of them were tired and sore, if not in the same places. So, in the end they took off Sam’s restraints, excluding the blindfold, and settled for the missionary position on the sofa. 

All Sam cared about was having time to drag his fingers down Shutterbug’s back and lock his legs around his hips. 

Bug could hide his identity, but Sam couldn’t go without some of the connection sex offered. Especially when he’d already decided he liked the guy and wanted to remember this. 

Sam craved sex where you forgot whose limbs belonged to whom, and he was getting it. Like with other kinds of hunger, he brightened up considerably now that it was being sated. 

Bug kept his head down. His laser-like attention was fully focused underneath him.

Maybe he believed Sam’s ‘threat’ and was trying to prove himself?

“Our bodies fit perfectly together, but I knew they would! You were made for me! Me and only me. You’re mine!”

Or maybe not. 

Every time Shutterbug spoke, it was like getting a peek into a parallel universe. 

It preyed on one of Sam’s deepest character flaws; his curiosity. He needed to know what was up with this guy! Even, no, especially if, he had to extract the information one ‘encounter’ at a time. 

“A-ah all yours, B-bug…”

Shutterbug caught his breath. Maybe he hadn’t realized he’d been speaking out loud before.

“S-say that again?”

Sam swallowed. “All yours…”

Shutterbug made a sound of pure joyous pain. His hold tightened desperately. Sam would have liked to be paying closer attention, but part of Bugs’s reaction involved pinning him down and hiking up his hips for easier access. 

Even if Sam could have come up with anything else to say, Shutterbug had apparently heard more than enough, or was just unwilling to stop kissing Sam long enough to give him an opportunity. 

Sam had never really cared about synchronized orgasms. It seemed like more trouble than it was worth, but with Shutterbug it just happened that way. 

They stayed, faces inches apart, panting together, bathing in the afterglow as long as they could. 

But Sam couldn’t keep the mask on forever and that meant Shutterbug had to leave. The locks holding the blindfold in place opened on their own. 

Five minutes later, Sam’s phone started blowing up. He glanced down at the messages from Shutterbug, then opened the app and sent a voice message. 

“Bug, please. I need to rest… you were great! I promise!” 

He sent it and bit by bit the messages tapered off, and he fell asleep with it still in his hand. 

Chapter Text

Sam had a list of suspects. Narrowing down from literally everyone in the building seemed impossible until he started using a bit of deductive reasoning and valid inferences.

He knew Shutterbug was roughly his same height, had a lean build and short hair. He had a few more details, but most of those weren't exactly on display.

He could try running around between a dozen guys playing 'who fits the glass slipper: blowjob edition' until he found the right fit, but if he didn't get it right and Bug found out… 'hell to pay' would be an understatement.

Sam didn't care for monogamy. He preferred to let his partners drift in and out of his life at their leisure. If they wanted to be with him, they would. He wasn't sure he even knew what romantic jealousy felt like.

When he had a partner with different opinions on the matter though, he'd follow their preferences. Or he would if he wanted them enough.

And Sam wanted Bug. A lot. Enough to turn this entire apartment complex into a gigantic game of guess-who for himself.

He wasn't sure what kind of game Bug was playing, but Sam was head over heels in love with him and wasn't interested in throwing any more dice.

He'd found out that the dating app he was talking to Bug through didn't actually exist; it was just some techy magic that had been loaded on his phone by Bug. Likely when passing in the hallway.

He wasn't sure why Bug didn't realize a quick Google search would reveal that, but it was probably a lot more complicated on his end, having to keep every part of this ruse spinning.

Sam definitely wouldn't interrupt his lover when they were making a mistake. Each crack in the exoskeleton gave him an opportunity to shift the status quo.

He was keeping a secret notebook with details about all the men in his building. They were currently as follows;

Eugene - App 24  - Suspicion: low

Ran into Eugene at the corner store and got him talking about potato chip flavors (ketchup chips enjoyer! There's no fixing some people!) definitely not Bug.

Louis - Apt 38 Suspicion: No.

He would have kept the costume on while having sex. No.

Edwin - Apt 31 Suspicion: medium

I guess he could be into photography and telescopes. Seems like a lot of special interests, but who am I to judge?

Jasper - Apt 26 Suspicion: high

Saw Jasper in the hallways. He looked like he was going to a cult meeting, head to toe in black robes. Very mysterious. He seems very stern, but that's easy to mistake for shyness. I could see it.

Lyle - App 21 Suspicion: N/A

No fucking luck tracking down Lyle. Tried different times of day, no dice! And no one I've spoken to has any idea what he looks like.

Literally sounds like Bug's MO. So this is my best lead or a red herring, and I don't have enough info to make a call.

What I'm saying is I'm going to feel like a real dumbass if it turns out he just doesn't make it home very often.

The good news is I have recruited an ally. I met a woman named Leigh down the hall, who was very sympathetic to my plight. She's going to text me if she notices anything strange from Lyle.

Nestor - app?? - Medium

Probably not? Dunno vibes were off.

"Hey, Kid!"

Sam's heart skipped a beat.

"H-hi Mr. Henderson-"

"Your boyfriend paid your back rent. Can't say I approve of your methods, soldier, but I'm not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth."

With the drive-by accomplished, the ornery octogenarian wheeled back into his apartment and slammed the door.

Sam shut his mouth tightly and turned back to his notebook. He'd stopped outside the laundromat while taking notes on Nestor. Rookie mistake lingering on the same floor as the landlord.

But now he knew Bug had gone over his head. It felt awful to be this mad over an act of kindness, but his debts were supposed to be private. Of course, Henderson probably just took cash up front, no questions asked.

Since he could be down here freely now, Sam went into the laundromat and sat on a machine while composing a message.

Sam: Why did you pay my rent?

Bug: You weren't supposed to find out about that.

Sam: you realize that's worse and not better? Right? You can't just go over my head like that.

Bug: You were six months behind. You were going to get evicted.

Sam: still making it worse

Bug: If I'd gotten what you give me at open market prices, it would be more than fair

Sam: So I'm a hooker now?

Bug: that's not what I meant! People in relationships take care of one another.

Sam: Yeah, genuine relationships. Not booty calls with a guy dropping off bondage gear at my door. And don't fight me on this was your stipulation.

Sam needed to go lie down. He felt like he's just been punched in the stomach and the chest.

He took the elevator up, and by the time he had collapsed onto his sofa, he had a message, but not from Bug.

Leigh: hey Sam, did you and Lyle have a fight?

?!

Lyle?

Ah, so this time he wasn't a red herring. It really was the most obvious option.

"Lyle… my little lying cuddle bug…" Sam didn't know what he was saying. He was lucky he had already been sitting down. He slumped over and messaged back.

Sam: Yeah? How did you know?

Leigh: Cuz I just walked by Lyle's door and you can hear him crying from the hallway

Sam: well now I kinda feel bad

Leigh: Let's not get too hasty. What did he do?

Sam: He went to Henderson to check if I was paid up.

Leigh: damn, and you're mad so, let me guess? You weren't, and Lyle 'took care of it' and then the old coot slut-shamed you for having your boyfriend pay?

Sam: Lyle told me it should be even because of the 'market value' of the sex we've been having

Leigh: that's hilarious. What a dumbass. You sure you really want that?

Sam would be lying if he said he didn't think about it, but he was far too deeply invested. He needed this to be real. He needs this dork in his life.

Sam: yeah

Leigh: RIP I'll help tho

Sam: no need. You've been more helpful than you can imagine. Just in case, can I count on an alibi?

Leigh: only if you repay the favour. I got a guy I might bury myself.

Sam: deal

And with that, Sam set about stalking Lyle.

If anyone ever had a legitimate reason to do so, Sam felt like he did. Plus, he really only needed two weeks.

First, he needed to sweet-talk Lyle and convince him he was forgiven. (Hell, maybe he did? That felt like 3 lifetimes ago.) He had to be lured into a false sense of security.

Then, Sam would slowly draw back his affection. He'd have to play this by ear. He didn't want to hurt Lyle too badly, but he had to be hungry, or he might not take the bait once the trap was set.

Last, a week to get his behaviour patterns (hopefully there were some when he was Sam's sole focus) and then he'd pick his moment to strike.

Sam opened the fake dating app window and started kissing ass as unsuspectingly as possible. Fattening him up for the kill.

Sam burned the notebook. No sense in leaving evidence around so Lyle could see how wrong he'd been.

He wasn't ever going to tell Lyle how he'd been found out. He was going to convince the poor thing that it had simply been a twist of fate. They were going to tell this story at their wedding, and only he- (actually, Leigh had definitely won herself grooms-maid status, but other than her, only he) -would know!

Enough fantasy for now. Plenty of time for that once he had his centipede safety locked inside an enclosure.

Until then? Time to go Bug hunting.

Lyle was having a preternaturally horrible week. First, he found out that his soulmate was drowning in debt, enough that he could slip right through Lyle's fingers through no fault of his own.

Then, disregarding his very polite request to keep it private, Sam found out he took care of it and was understandably upset by the violation of privacy.

Even though he and Sam had made up, sex included, there was still this lingering feeling of dread crawling on his back.

He was trying to tell himself that it was normal for things to be awkward after a fight, but his anxiety ate away at him from the inside out.

He'd planned on eventually revealing himself to Sam and starting their relationship properly, but there always seemed to be a reason to put it off.

At first, Sam had really enjoyed the game Lyle had planned out for him, but something happened that he didn't catch, and now he was dangerously close to losing control of the narrative completely.

And Sam was acting like naught had changed, but Lyle could feel it in every kiss taken back faster, the frequency of replies, the way he'd stopped clinging when it was time for Lyle to leave…

Lyle sighed quietly to himself as he stepped into the elevator.

"Hey!"

A hand slipped through the closing doors and swiped the motion sensor. The doors halted and slowly retracted.

"Sorry!" Sam chirped as he sauntered in. Placing himself at the far end of the elevator, shoulders against the wall.

Lyle went into a tailspin. A chance encounter like this should have been a daydream come true, but he feared breathing too deeply could somehow give him away.

No. No, this is fine. They're literally two guys in an elevator. In two minutes they would be on the second floor, and Lyle would walk away quickly! But calmly. He must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. The little death that-

"Hey! I don't think I've seen you around. I'm Sam."

Sam offered his hand to Lyle. It took everything to nod, calmly take his love's hand, then let go.

"L-Lyle.."

He'd used a voice changer when he was with Sam, but Lyle didn't want to test how much he could speak before his tone or word choice gave him away.

"Are those bite marks on your neck?"

Lyle's hand came down over his throat with an audible slap as he tried to hide the bruises Sam had left.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you!" Sam explained. "I'm just… envious. My love life is a pile of shit right now."

It was amazing how fast panic and dread could give way to raw anguish.

"Ah?! O-oh! I'm sad to h-hear that."

How had Lyle miscalculated this so badly? Not only was his Sam unhappy, he was hurt enough to bare his soul to some stranger in an elevator before he brought any of this up to his partner.

The only silver lining here was that he might figure out what went wrong.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"You're not busy? It's really complicated."

"N-no!" Lyle insisted. Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Uhh.. I love drama. Erm.. spill the tea.. sis?"

Sam sighed deeply and slumped against the wall.

"Okay, but you've got to promise not to point out all the red flags I'm pretending not to see."

Lyle's heart was already in his stomach, but that made it sink even further into his guts.

"I'm a good listener…" Lyle shoved his hands into his pockets. He couldn't stop them from shaking.

"So, the guy I'm seeing is really timid. In bed he's like -WOW- but outside of that he can't handle even the suggestion that I might like to see him in person."

That wasn't true. It's not that bad…

"Before you ask, 'How can I be dating somebody I've never seen?' It's complicated. The short version is, 'He blindfolds me when we're together.'"

"Gosh…" Lyle managed. "M-maybe he's got some kind of deformity he's trying to hide."

"What, like Phantom of the Opera?" Sam laughed and shook his head. "Maybe, but I think he's just like that, for whatever reason."

"So that isn't the problem?"

"It's part of the problem. It's fine if he wants to hide from everyone else- but not me. Do you have any idea what it's like? Having everything you've ever wanted so close you can touch him, taste him, feel his warmth, then have it all ripped away from you? Nothing to do but hope and pray it won't be the last time. Could you sit there in the darkness and let it go? Let him go."

"I-"

Lyle couldn't look at Sam. This was a complete and utter nightmare. He'd only ever wanted this to be a kinky scenario that might also help him build his confidence, but now he could see all of his mistakes like they were written right there in black and white.

He'd teased Sam too badly for far too long, and now he'd completely detached emotionally to protect himself.

This was what that terrible feeling had been telling him. He'd broken Sam's heart, and now the blood was pooling across the floor.

It was too late for Shutterbug; he'd clearly fucked this all up completely! -but Lyle might still have a chance. He'd have to retreat, dump the persona. He'd need new plans, a different approach…

This elevator ride was lasting awfully long. Lyle looked and realized that neither of them had pressed any buttons.

He moved to call for the second floor.

Sam lunged at him and snatched his wrist away. Lyle twisted around, shock forcing him to make eye contact with Sam.

He didn't recognize the look on Sam's face. He could feel the fury hitting him in waves, but the entire time Sam's features stayed set in a soft smile, eyes reflecting light like mirrored lenses.

With his other hand, Sam grabbed Lyle's sleeve and rolled it up past his forearm. He found a lingering scar about halfway up. He lifted Lyle's arm to his mouth and gently matched the marks against his teeth.

It was a perfect likeness.

Lyle couldn't breathe.

Satisfied, Sam dropped Lyle's arm and hit the button for the third floor. The small box rattled as it ascended.

"No more skittering away to hide, Shutterbug!"

Sam slammed himself into Lyle, forcing him against the wall and pinning him there.

"Or should I say, Lyle?"

After years spent longing for Sam to say his name, Lyle couldn't have imagined it would happen like this.

"I like it. Fitting for a liar like you," Sam mused.

"S-Sam please! I don't-"

"Don't. What did I tell you last time? 'Stop digging,' yeah? Let's think clearly before you nearly fuck up a situation that you're going to miss dearly."

Lyle shut his mouth.

Nearly? As in; almost but not quite. Virtually, approximately, hardly, barely, roughly, all of that added up to one thing- It wasn't over yet.

Lyle swallowed against the lump in his throat.

"Yes, Sam."

"Good boy."

The cuffs needed to be adjusted to fit Lyle instead, but once they were fastened, he was as helpless as Sam had been, kneeling on the floor.

"Comfortable?" Sam asked.

"S-sure."

Sam grabbed Lyle's chin and tilted his head one way then the other.

"You're cute. Handsome, even… I'm not seeing anything that would compel you to hide under a Parisian opera house."

Lyle winced at the reminder of that rather pathetic falsehood. "I can explain."

"Good. Because that's all I want to hear from you." Sam sat in front of Lyle on the floor, legs crossed. "But it might be faster if I ask the questions... first though.."

Sam leaned forward, watching Lyle carefully to see if he flinched away. When he didn't, Sam completed the kiss. The moment his eyes closed, any last shred of doubt he'd picked correctly evaporated. Everything was perfect, from the taste on his tongue to the gap between two of Lyle's front teeth.

It'd been tough holding back for this long, but as he'd seen the second he'd gotten in that elevator, Lyle would have run with his tail between his legs if Sam hadn't starved him a little first.

That was all in the past now. Tonight he could feast to his heart's content. Seconds? Thirds? Fourths? Sky was the limit as long as his Bedbug could still consent.

Sam scooted closer and climbed onto Lyle's lap. Nostalgia flooded in as he perfectly inverted their roles from the first night they'd ever spent together.

Magical? Yes. But experience also had its positives. Sam knew every inch of Lyle now, including exactly how their hips could be aligned for mutual gratification.

He slowly and deliberately started rutting up against Lyle, swallowing down every familiar sound he made. Unmistakable even at a different pitch.

Lyle. His Lyle. Lyle-Lyle-Lyle-Lyle

Sam broke the kiss and nuzzled into Lyle's neck. He smelled so good. 'Strong positive associations' didn't nearly cover it. Sam needed to know everything that went into this smell. What soap did he use? How did he wash his hair? Perhaps a hint of darkroom chemicals…

"You said you had questions??"

His poor Lyle sounded so confused.

Whoops, he's gotten a little carried away.

Sam reluctantly slid himself off of Lyle and back onto the floor.

"Yeah, so, uh.. why did you do it?"

Lyle exhaled deeply, his shoulders slumped forward, his gaze fixed pensively down at the floor.

"I don't suppose 'I'm shy' would suffice?"

Sam pretended to think it over for a moment.

"I'm not sure how that covers the part where you made a fake dating app and then somehow got it on my phone without me noticing."

Watching the fear crystallize behind Lyle's eyes was almost as good as choking on his dick. If less pleasant for Lyle.

Sam could guess his train of thought. Lyle was wondering how much of his plan had been uncovered.

It was far less than Lyle likely feared, and Sam planned on leveraging that gap for everything it was worth.

"How long have you been stalking me?" Sam asked.

"S-stalking?" Lyle stammered. He looked genuinely hurt at the suggestion. Sam tried again.

"How long have you been in love with me?"

Lyle somehow blushed in some places and went pale in others.

"6 years…"

Sam blinked at him. Tick… Tick… Tick-

Boom

"You mean we could have been fucking for 6 years at this point?!?"

"I-I didn't think you'd be interested!"

"Based on literally what? You know you're basically a ghost? None of the people in this building can even tell me what your hair colour is!"

"We worked together-"

"I don't remember that. Did you ask me out?"

The look of shame Sam caught told him the answer. Of course not.

"Lyle…" He rubbed his face with both hands. "If you'd waited much longer, there might not have been a Sam left for you to claim…"

The moment he heard it, Sam realized he had said too much. He didn't want to put that on anyone but himself. It didn't matter whether it was true. He needed to change the subject.

"Wh-what?!"

"So why now? You waited six years, and then one random Tuesday it's finally time to make a move on the love of your life?"

"There were other plans! This one just worked out better than I expected!"

"Other plans?" Sam nodded along. Swing for the fences, and hope for the best. That's why this seemed so elaborate yet paper-thin at the same time.

"How many other plans?"

Lyle couldn't look at him.

"Is it more than a couple dozen?"

The blush on Lyle's cheeks was deepening by the second.

"Is it over 50?"

Still no response.

"Lyle!"

"I don't know, okay! It was a lot! Sam, please… just listen for a moment."

Sam sat his ass right back down.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I got so caught up in the role I was playing, I didn't notice how much pain you were in. It was stupid… irresponsible even. I know I know better, but when it mattered most, I just… I kept telling myself, this way if I fuck things up, at least Lyle might still have a chance. A-after all this time, it just felt impossible even to start. There were too many things that could go wrong. It won't make it better. But I-I can see that now."

Sam crawled back over to Lyle and fully unbuckled the restraints. He caught Lyle in his arms and wrapped him in a tight bear hug.

"Thank you, Lyle. You didn't fuck it up. Can't you see I'm utterly obsessed with you by now?"

This absolutely perfect idiot had the audacity to look shocked.

"Lyle, I just kidnapped you!"

"…oh, I suppose you did.."

With Lyle's help, Sam got them onto the sofa. Sam preferred to stay on top for now, and besides, his cuddle-bug looked like he was one strong breeze from passing out. Some deep pressure therapy couldn't go amiss.

Sam settled with his head resting on Lyle's chest, listening to his racing heartbeat. This belonged to him now, both metaphorically and otherwise.

He ordered Lyle's pulse to slow, and it obeyed.

"Sam…  I lov-"

"Shhh-! I get to say it first. I love you Lyle~"

"I love you too Sam."