The Life on Mars Anonymous Pornfest
Please Note: I've declared the Pornfest over (as I can't be bothered to keep the prompt list up-to-date!) So any new prompts posted will be deleted. However, I do encourage you to post any anon fic in response to the existing prompts and comment on the lovely responses that we've already got
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"No."
"Annie -"
"No, Sam! I'm not being silly, I'm not being stupid, I'm not doing this because it's interesting or sordid, I'm staying because you need me here!"
"I can manage just fine without you," Sam insisted stubbornly. He'd moved Gene's legs so his knees were propped up and open, with a pillow under his hips to raise them a little. It would have been easier if he could get Gene on his side, he thought, but this was the best position for Gene's heart and breathing, and he could manage easily enough. "I can manage," he insisted again. "The Guv wouldn't want you 'ere, Annie. I think he'd honestly pick priapism over having his team present for this."
"Oh, an' getting' a handjob from you is gonna brighten 'is entire morning, is it?" She got on her knees on the bed, kneeling up by Gene's chest. She tipped the Guv's head back, smoothing his hair out of the way and baring the column of his throat. "I'll be right 'ere, Sam. Helpin'."
It's not sex if it's clinical, Sam thought, and quashed the disappointment at that thought violently. Now was not the time to be territorial, for fuck's sake. "The fewer people the better, Annie, you know that. I can manage on me own."
"Oh, aye, and when 'is heart stops beating midway through, or 'e can't breathe, how are you going to manage, ey?" She sniffed at his expression. "Why d'you think I didn't suggest that I stay and you bugger off, hmm? Now stop complainin' and get your 'ands on 'im."
Smart woman, Annie. Always with the practicalities. Right. Now how the fucking hell am I going to do this? He tugged Chris's jacket away.
*
"How's" breath "he" breath "doing?" breath
About five minutes ago, Sam had abandoned the initial option of a handjob aided by spit and precome for what was, realistically, much more likely to make Gene come before he stopped breathing altogether. Which is why, if the ambulance men were to come in at this very second, they would find Annie attached to one end with her mouth over Gene's, breathing as much oxygen into his protesting lungs as she could manage at a spring, and Sam, attached to the other, evidently attempting to suck the oxygen right back through Gene's cock.
To be fair, this was the very first time that Sam had ever given anyone a blowjob, let alone attempted one on an unconscious person. And it wasn't a proper blowjob, was it? It wasn't sexual, not sir, not at all, not even a little bit. Clinical, he told himself, his tongue running up the underside of Gene's cock, his hands wrapped around the base to squeeze gently. Just… helpin' out a mate. That's all. He was not helped by the dizzying, gulping sounds Annie made as she worked over Gene's mouth, his lips and hers reddened and swollen and shiny from the assault. Clinical, Sam thought, his cock helplessly hard and painful against his hip, right.
*
"Where's that bloody ambulance?! Don't give me excuses, 'ere, give me a fucking ambulance and the 'ospital ready for us. No! I don't care! Just fucking do it, all right?!" He slammed the payphone down. Fucking paper-pushers. Who the fuck cared if the ambulance twonks were on their break? Get them off their fucking break; it's not like anyone around CID would say, "sorry, luv, can't come rescue you from the rapists beatin' down your door, I'm 'aving me tea."
Fucking idiots, the lot of them.
One of the plonks was staring at him reproachfully. Ray glared. "Wot?!"
*
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