Fic: The Proof in the Madness - Life on Mars Sam/Gene
Title: The Proof in the Madness
Author: dragonlit
Recipient: acidpenguin46
Characters: Gene/Sam
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Word Count: 1744
Notes/Warnings: Naked man silliness
Summary: Gene comes home to find his kitchen invaded. Written for martianholiday fic exchange for acidpenguin46 who asked for something cracked with the prompt “Oi, that’s not supposed to go there” and wanted something bizarre that’s not supposed to go there. It’s not as bizarre as she might have wished, but it is cracked. And my apologies for blatantly scooping a line from her picspam of the Devil’s Whore.
Gene opened the door to the sound of loud music, the likes of which he wished he’d never heard. Noise was all it really was to his ears, noise that he cautiously followed to the kitchen. There he found one DI Tyler, the bane of his existence, prancing around the kitchen like the fairy he was, with an apron left over from Gene’s wife wrapped around his waist. The fact that the apron was the only thing covering Tyler’s body was not lost on Gene.
He had had a hellish day at work, a day that had ended with a lecture from the Super, again. Sam had deserted him as he went into the meeting but Gene couldn’t fault him for that. He would have preferred that his DI had been there but it had been made clear to him by the Super that it was Gene alone that was welcome. After the verbal thrashing he had taken, he had been looking forward to a quiet evening, a bite at the pub a little later and then home alone with the telly. A madman and loud music had not been on his wish list.
Sam Tyler was clearly mad. He sang and pranced and when he saw Gene, ran over to him shouting out Eureka, like the second coming of Christ had arrived or he had discovered gravity or whatever the word Eureka was associated with. Not that Gene really believed that Christ would be arriving on earth again but sometimes he wondered why God, if there really was one, had sent this madman to torture him.
Sam had done some crazy things before, but running around naked had not been one of them. Being caught chained to his cot, yes, but that had not been Sam’s doing or so he had protested. Gene squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it was one of those crazy dreams, like the ones Tyler ranted on about having, but the music remained at volume and the fairy in the ruffled apron didn’t disappear.
“Tyler!” he shouted and cranked the volume control of the radio down. “What in bloody hell are you doing in my kitchen! Naked!”
“I found it Gene. I found it. The perfect recipe and then the market that Nelson pointed me to had it.”
Not really wanting to know what he was going on about but knowing he had to humor his DI at least until he got some clothing on him and threw him out his door, he asked, “had what.”
“An aubergine! The perfect aubergine, long and slender, not all pear-shaped like you usually get. Haha!” If Gene could have used any word to describe Sam’s tone of voice, it would have been cackling. Yes, Sam cackled.
“What is an aubergine?” He looked around to see if he could find evidence of Tyler’s clothing, some trail perhaps that lead to them. He found nothing.
“It’s the perfect vegetable for making Moussaka and the slender ones are the most succulent. They remind me of a perfect penis, they really do.”
That did it. Talk of succulent and penises in the same breath was definitely off limits particularly when it came gushing from his DI’s mouth and Gene was having none of that in his house. Never mind that he had no idea what Moussaka was.
“Tyler, get your clothes and get out of my kitchen. You are obviously on something. Someone slip you a mikey again?”
“Oh, but Gene, it’s already in the oven,” Sam said smiling.
“What is? A penis?” This was going from bad to worse and Gene wanted it to end now.
“No, not a penis. The Moussaka!” Sam laughed, the kind of infectious, mad laugh that one was hard pressed to ignore or to stay angry upon hearing. Gene bit down on his tongue to stop smiling at the absurdity.
“But I have another aubergine here. I figured since they had them, I’d buy several. Here look,” Sam said running to the refrigerator, his tight little arse wagging in front of Gene, drawing his eyes to it. Sam pulled out a long, slender, purple vegetable.
“See! Doesn’t it look like a penis, the way it’s curved, the color just an enhancement to the purple viens that…”
“Shut it Tyler and stop waving that thing in front of my face,” Gene said watching the shiny vegetable bounce around in Sam’s dancing hand, like he was conducting the Royal Fucking Symphony.
“Sorry, Guv, but don’t you think… here, feel how smooth it is,” Sam said as he rubbed the vegetable along Gene’s lips, his tongue tracing a line over his own.
“Get that thing away from me,” Gene shouted, batting the vegetable and Sam’s hand away. When Sam moved the cylindrical food to his mouth and pressed his tongue against the stem, Gene found his eyes caught by the dilated pupils, the evident lust erasing any trace of the brown he normally saw there.
That was it. He’s was going to throw the twat out, naked or not. He moved his arms to subdue his DI but with nothing but Tyler’s bare skin to grab onto, he stopped. This would take a little more thought, he realized.
“Do you hear that?” Sam asked suddenly dropping the aubergine to his side and looking around at the radio. “The drums. Do you hear them?”
Gene heard nothing but the faint sound of children’s voices singing. He hoped this wasn’t a repeat of the incident in the restaurant when Sam had started creating a ruckus and swore up and down the radio was talking to him. Maybe he should consider getting Sam to a shrink especially after today.
“No, Sam. No drums.”
“But it’s there, that infernal drumming. It’s as if it’s calling me but that can’t be can it? Tell me it’s not real, Gene,” he pleaded, grabbing at the lapels of Gene’s coat, the vegetable still firmly in his grasp and a little too close to Gene’s face. “I want this to be real, not the drums, not the voices, not the telly.”
Gene had no idea what this daft idiot was going on about but he saw Sam ready for another melt-down. If only he’d put some bloody clothes on, Gene could at least toss him out. As it was, Gene could only grab him by the apron strings and that was just too frightening a proposition.
As if a switch had been thrown, Sam started laughing, that mad, cackling repeated. He held the aubergine up again and started stroking it.
“Mmmm. Nice and firm,” Sam groaned like a street corner prozzy looking for business. “But if you don’t like your food that way, perhaps if I slice it.”
Before Gene could react, Sam had a very long knife in one hand and the aubergine still in the other. The tip of the blade rested at the base of Gene’s throat. The pupils staring at him were still dilated, but now the smile that stretched across Sam’s face was anything but amusing.
“I see swordplay in my future Gene. What do you see in yours?” he said, eyes darting side to side, lips pulled back menacingly. “Nothing? At a loss for words are you? Well, I do see blood in my future and now’s as good a time as any to practice my skill with a blade. I think I’m in the mood for some man on man penetration, a little appetizer before the meal I’ve slaved to make for us.”
Gene swallowed his fear and when he tried to take a step back, was met by the kitchen table, trapped between it and the madman at his throat.
“Sam, you need to calm down, relax…”
Sam backed away and started flourishing the kitchen knife around like he was one of the Three Bloody Musketeers. Gene let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and slumped back against the table.
“I think I’d be pretty good at this, don’t you?” he said, dancing around the room, kitchen utensil in one hand, aubergine in the other.
Gene pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing this, once again to be a dream and at a complete loss as to what to do, knowing that it really was a waking nightmare.
“Yes, Sam. I think you’d be very good with a sword. I need a drink.” He walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a glass and the half empty bottle that he hoped would be his salvation. “Put the knife -“
“Sword, Gene! It’s a sword!” Sam announced swishing it too close for Gene’s liking.
“Fine. Put the sword down and I’ll give you a glass too,” Gene answered. He heard the clink as the knife landed on the counter and waited for the next insane outburst as he poured two glasses of whiskey. Before he could turn around, he found Sam’s arms wrapped around him. Gene stiffened and looked down the see if the knife had returned to his hand. Instead he saw fingers working to unfasten his trousers.
“What the hell are you doing?” Gene growled but didn’t move until Sam’s hands tore his trousers down.
“A little man on man penetration, like I said I was in the mood for,” Sam said.
Before Gene could protest, Sam ran on hand over Gene’s bottom and rubbed what Gene suspected from its smooth cool feel was the aubergine between his arse cheeks.
"Oi, that's not supposed to go there," he said squirming away but thankful at least that it wasn’t the knife.
“So you want what is supposed to go there?” Sam chuckled.
Gene rolled his eyes, grabbed the two drinks and shuffled around as best he could with the trousers around his ankles, shoving a glass into Sam’s chest.
“You really are daft, you know that Tyler. Have a drink, we’ll eat and then we’ll discuss what should or should not go up my jacksy.” Gene raised his glass toward Sam and saw his eyes drop towards what was Gene’s unmistakeable arousal.
“I knew it,” Sam laughed. “If my arse waving around didn’t get you, baring yours to my hand and purple vegetable would.”
Gene sighed and raised his glass to his mouth. It appeared that the lunacy of this fairy in a ruffled apron was catching. His twitching shaft seemed to be evidence of that and who was he to argue with such firm proof?
Author: dragonlit
Recipient: acidpenguin46
Characters: Gene/Sam
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17)
Word Count: 1744
Notes/Warnings: Naked man silliness
Summary: Gene comes home to find his kitchen invaded. Written for martianholiday fic exchange for acidpenguin46 who asked for something cracked with the prompt “Oi, that’s not supposed to go there” and wanted something bizarre that’s not supposed to go there. It’s not as bizarre as she might have wished, but it is cracked. And my apologies for blatantly scooping a line from her picspam of the Devil’s Whore.
Gene opened the door to the sound of loud music, the likes of which he wished he’d never heard. Noise was all it really was to his ears, noise that he cautiously followed to the kitchen. There he found one DI Tyler, the bane of his existence, prancing around the kitchen like the fairy he was, with an apron left over from Gene’s wife wrapped around his waist. The fact that the apron was the only thing covering Tyler’s body was not lost on Gene.
He had had a hellish day at work, a day that had ended with a lecture from the Super, again. Sam had deserted him as he went into the meeting but Gene couldn’t fault him for that. He would have preferred that his DI had been there but it had been made clear to him by the Super that it was Gene alone that was welcome. After the verbal thrashing he had taken, he had been looking forward to a quiet evening, a bite at the pub a little later and then home alone with the telly. A madman and loud music had not been on his wish list.
Sam Tyler was clearly mad. He sang and pranced and when he saw Gene, ran over to him shouting out Eureka, like the second coming of Christ had arrived or he had discovered gravity or whatever the word Eureka was associated with. Not that Gene really believed that Christ would be arriving on earth again but sometimes he wondered why God, if there really was one, had sent this madman to torture him.
Sam had done some crazy things before, but running around naked had not been one of them. Being caught chained to his cot, yes, but that had not been Sam’s doing or so he had protested. Gene squeezed his eyes shut, hoping it was one of those crazy dreams, like the ones Tyler ranted on about having, but the music remained at volume and the fairy in the ruffled apron didn’t disappear.
“Tyler!” he shouted and cranked the volume control of the radio down. “What in bloody hell are you doing in my kitchen! Naked!”
“I found it Gene. I found it. The perfect recipe and then the market that Nelson pointed me to had it.”
Not really wanting to know what he was going on about but knowing he had to humor his DI at least until he got some clothing on him and threw him out his door, he asked, “had what.”
“An aubergine! The perfect aubergine, long and slender, not all pear-shaped like you usually get. Haha!” If Gene could have used any word to describe Sam’s tone of voice, it would have been cackling. Yes, Sam cackled.
“What is an aubergine?” He looked around to see if he could find evidence of Tyler’s clothing, some trail perhaps that lead to them. He found nothing.
“It’s the perfect vegetable for making Moussaka and the slender ones are the most succulent. They remind me of a perfect penis, they really do.”
That did it. Talk of succulent and penises in the same breath was definitely off limits particularly when it came gushing from his DI’s mouth and Gene was having none of that in his house. Never mind that he had no idea what Moussaka was.
“Tyler, get your clothes and get out of my kitchen. You are obviously on something. Someone slip you a mikey again?”
“Oh, but Gene, it’s already in the oven,” Sam said smiling.
“What is? A penis?” This was going from bad to worse and Gene wanted it to end now.
“No, not a penis. The Moussaka!” Sam laughed, the kind of infectious, mad laugh that one was hard pressed to ignore or to stay angry upon hearing. Gene bit down on his tongue to stop smiling at the absurdity.
“But I have another aubergine here. I figured since they had them, I’d buy several. Here look,” Sam said running to the refrigerator, his tight little arse wagging in front of Gene, drawing his eyes to it. Sam pulled out a long, slender, purple vegetable.
“See! Doesn’t it look like a penis, the way it’s curved, the color just an enhancement to the purple viens that…”
“Shut it Tyler and stop waving that thing in front of my face,” Gene said watching the shiny vegetable bounce around in Sam’s dancing hand, like he was conducting the Royal Fucking Symphony.
“Sorry, Guv, but don’t you think… here, feel how smooth it is,” Sam said as he rubbed the vegetable along Gene’s lips, his tongue tracing a line over his own.
“Get that thing away from me,” Gene shouted, batting the vegetable and Sam’s hand away. When Sam moved the cylindrical food to his mouth and pressed his tongue against the stem, Gene found his eyes caught by the dilated pupils, the evident lust erasing any trace of the brown he normally saw there.
That was it. He’s was going to throw the twat out, naked or not. He moved his arms to subdue his DI but with nothing but Tyler’s bare skin to grab onto, he stopped. This would take a little more thought, he realized.
“Do you hear that?” Sam asked suddenly dropping the aubergine to his side and looking around at the radio. “The drums. Do you hear them?”
Gene heard nothing but the faint sound of children’s voices singing. He hoped this wasn’t a repeat of the incident in the restaurant when Sam had started creating a ruckus and swore up and down the radio was talking to him. Maybe he should consider getting Sam to a shrink especially after today.
“No, Sam. No drums.”
“But it’s there, that infernal drumming. It’s as if it’s calling me but that can’t be can it? Tell me it’s not real, Gene,” he pleaded, grabbing at the lapels of Gene’s coat, the vegetable still firmly in his grasp and a little too close to Gene’s face. “I want this to be real, not the drums, not the voices, not the telly.”
Gene had no idea what this daft idiot was going on about but he saw Sam ready for another melt-down. If only he’d put some bloody clothes on, Gene could at least toss him out. As it was, Gene could only grab him by the apron strings and that was just too frightening a proposition.
As if a switch had been thrown, Sam started laughing, that mad, cackling repeated. He held the aubergine up again and started stroking it.
“Mmmm. Nice and firm,” Sam groaned like a street corner prozzy looking for business. “But if you don’t like your food that way, perhaps if I slice it.”
Before Gene could react, Sam had a very long knife in one hand and the aubergine still in the other. The tip of the blade rested at the base of Gene’s throat. The pupils staring at him were still dilated, but now the smile that stretched across Sam’s face was anything but amusing.
“I see swordplay in my future Gene. What do you see in yours?” he said, eyes darting side to side, lips pulled back menacingly. “Nothing? At a loss for words are you? Well, I do see blood in my future and now’s as good a time as any to practice my skill with a blade. I think I’m in the mood for some man on man penetration, a little appetizer before the meal I’ve slaved to make for us.”
Gene swallowed his fear and when he tried to take a step back, was met by the kitchen table, trapped between it and the madman at his throat.
“Sam, you need to calm down, relax…”
Sam backed away and started flourishing the kitchen knife around like he was one of the Three Bloody Musketeers. Gene let out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding and slumped back against the table.
“I think I’d be pretty good at this, don’t you?” he said, dancing around the room, kitchen utensil in one hand, aubergine in the other.
Gene pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, willing this, once again to be a dream and at a complete loss as to what to do, knowing that it really was a waking nightmare.
“Yes, Sam. I think you’d be very good with a sword. I need a drink.” He walked over to the cupboard and pulled out a glass and the half empty bottle that he hoped would be his salvation. “Put the knife -“
“Sword, Gene! It’s a sword!” Sam announced swishing it too close for Gene’s liking.
“Fine. Put the sword down and I’ll give you a glass too,” Gene answered. He heard the clink as the knife landed on the counter and waited for the next insane outburst as he poured two glasses of whiskey. Before he could turn around, he found Sam’s arms wrapped around him. Gene stiffened and looked down the see if the knife had returned to his hand. Instead he saw fingers working to unfasten his trousers.
“What the hell are you doing?” Gene growled but didn’t move until Sam’s hands tore his trousers down.
“A little man on man penetration, like I said I was in the mood for,” Sam said.
Before Gene could protest, Sam ran on hand over Gene’s bottom and rubbed what Gene suspected from its smooth cool feel was the aubergine between his arse cheeks.
"Oi, that's not supposed to go there," he said squirming away but thankful at least that it wasn’t the knife.
“So you want what is supposed to go there?” Sam chuckled.
Gene rolled his eyes, grabbed the two drinks and shuffled around as best he could with the trousers around his ankles, shoving a glass into Sam’s chest.
“You really are daft, you know that Tyler. Have a drink, we’ll eat and then we’ll discuss what should or should not go up my jacksy.” Gene raised his glass toward Sam and saw his eyes drop towards what was Gene’s unmistakeable arousal.
“I knew it,” Sam laughed. “If my arse waving around didn’t get you, baring yours to my hand and purple vegetable would.”
Gene sighed and raised his glass to his mouth. It appeared that the lunacy of this fairy in a ruffled apron was catching. His twitching shaft seemed to be evidence of that and who was he to argue with such firm proof?