Greta Van Fleet // Oneshots

No One Else // Sam & Danny *SMUT*

Warnings: smut alert! [handjobs; grinding] 18+ read at your own discretion.

Folks, I am super stoked for this one. It went from the idea of some flirty, platonic fluff to something quite a bit beyond, and I'm really pleased with the end result. It was days of trying to get everything just right–I have to do these two the ultimate justice every time. Also, apparently I really am dying to have summer back, which is really too bad, but I can continue to daydream about Danny and Sam living their best lives. I hope y'all enjoy ~~

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Summers in Michigan were hot, especially in comparison to the winters–even 80 degrees was absolutely sweltering when you only experienced heat a few months of the year–and while Sam was embracing the sun, unencumbered by any clouds, Danny was repeatedly wiping sweat away from his brow and had even found a large leaf to fan himself with.

"We're almost there," Sam assured him, leading the way on the final stretch of trail through a green field. At least, he knew anyway, that the sweltering hike would pay off when they both got to dunk themselves in the lake.

"I know, I remember this part," Danny replied, matching his pace to Sam's again, the two of them side by side. "How do you not have a drop of sweat on you? It's sweltering."

"We had tree cover for most of the hike," Sam replied with a snort. He found Danny's suffering funny, really–he also couldn't deny that seeing him all sweaty was hot, no pun intended. Like when he drummed too, and sweat would fly away from his body and onto the drums; occasionally a bead or two would even fling onto Sam if he was close enough onstage.

"Should have brought the beers in a cooler," Danny mused, yanking the hair tie out from his thick, dark tresses and gathering all of his hair as he walked, putting it all up in one big messy bun instead of just half-away from his face.

"They'll be fine," Sam replied, eyeing Danny as he fixed his hair, his eyes moving down his profile and landing on his neck. Even through his natural and also heightened tan, Sam could see that his skin was flushed from the heat. "You put on sunscreen?"

The corner of Danny's mouth raised for a second in what could have been a smirk. "Forgot."

"Daniel! We talked about this. Sunscreen is very important." Sam reached over and laid his hand over the back of Danny's neck–he wasn't being dramatic, he really was heated up. "We wouldn't want you to ruin that beautiful skin of yours."

"I'll put some on when we get there," Danny assured him, wrapping his arm around Sam's waist, both of them tangled together until they reached the lake.

It was a secluded spot on the eastern edge of the lake, and a spot the Kiszka-Wagner clan had scoped out long ago. It had become their own and that was solidified as the years went on, with no one else ever seeming to inhabit the space–their messy sand castles, discarded roaches and initials carved into the knocked-over wooden post remained unscathed.

Under the shade of trees again, Danny let his backpack descend to the sand and then tore off his shirt, tossing it over a nearby overturned tree. Sam watched from his peripheral as he bent over to get into his own backpack, taking out two cans of beer, tossing one to Danny, who caught it in one hand.

"The water's low," Danny remarked, tapping on top of the can a few times before popping the tab. He backed away from the burst of foam that leaked over the side, quickly planting his mouth to the aluminum and licking it up.

"Yeah, it hasn't raised all fuckin' summer," Sam replied, grinning to himself as he watched Danny messily try to contain the beer. He set his own can down on the tree next to Danny's shirt, then unzipped the smaller compartment of his bag to retrieve the bottle of sunscreen he'd dutifully brought.