Fic: Needful Things
TITLE: Needful Things
AUTHOR: Andromeda
FANDOM: Life on Mars
SUMMARY: Or Sam does Dallas Manchester
RATING: Red Cortina, Sam/various, explicit sex, warning for implied incest.
WORD COUNT: 1,150 words
EMAIL: fiandyfic@livejournal.com
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Um. Sorry. This has been sat on my hard-drive for months and I forgotten all about it. Then I found it, finished it and sent it to darthfi for a beta. It was then recycled into firelighters sent back just as the pornfest was going critical. But here it is, just the same.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made. Title shamelessly borrowed from Stephen King.
Needful Things
Sam had always wanted the things he could not have. Oh, he wanted the things he could have as well, but the out of reach was so much more tempting, forbidden fruit being that little bit sweeter.
Annie, gentle Annie. He knew he could have her, all Sam had to do was beckon and she would follow. But she proved to be more of a challenge than Sam thought.
It took three months of Saturday night dates, trips to the cinema, to concerts, to restaurants and to bars before she finally said yes.
Finally, he took her hand and led her to bed, laying her down tenderly, and with tongue and talented fingers eliciting groans that were a testament to his skill. Later, he took his reward as the moon shone through the thin curtains, casting a luminescent glow over their writhing, interconnected bodies. Driving into her again and again, Annie gasped at the sensations he caused and Sam reflected that only the presence of broad black leather and moonlit steel could add to the picture they made.
Once he had had her, she spoke about moving in together, perhaps even settling down. But, without letting her down too much, Sam moved on.
* * * * *
Phyllis was a surprise, a chance encounter in the alleyway behind the Railway Arms. She was ready and willing and Sam never looked a gift horse in the mouth.
He pinned her against the wall, damp and hot, as his hands made their way under her skirt.
His wandering digits only met with hot flesh and he drew back slightly in askance.
Phyllis smirked. "Well, I knew you were up for it, and most blokes don't know their way round a lady's underwear. Best make hay, you know?"
Sam did, and he wasted no time in doing so. Phyllis was demanding, one hand finding her balance on his shoulder, nails digging into the skin beneath Sam's thin shirt, as he fucked her against the wall. Her skirt pushed up over her hips, one sensible shoe digging into the small of his back as she pulled him into her with a strength that surprised Sam, her other hand reaching down to find her own pleasure as he thrust into her again and again.
She came with a cry and he followed her soon after, the pair almost collapsing to the cobbles as they disentangled.
"This is the only time it will happen," Sam warned.
Phyllis just smiled and with a knowing wink replied, "Right you are, Boss."
* * * * *
The next conquest required a gentle seduction. Pats on the shoulder that lingered a little too long. Words of praise accompanied by a guileless smile. Privately shared jokes and gazes that smouldered.
Chris had always looked up to Sam with a cute, puppyish adoration. Carefully, gently, Sam cultivated it into something else, something a little more raw, more desperate. Friendship laced with lust, Sam waited for Chris to come to him, waited until the need, so barely articulated, ran through Chris's veins, sweet and hot.
Then, and only then, did Sam acknowledge that need. Took that desperation and turned it into passion before setting it free in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs, hot, sweet kisses and the burn of a virgin coupling.
As masterful as he was in pulling strings, Sam did not need to finish that affair. A little twist of guilt laid on top of an urge half-despised, and Chris ended it for him.
It was not the best end to a relationship ever, but Sam stoically took the victories where he could.
* * * * *
He wanted Ray, but didn't think could have him. There was too much hatred there and too much bigotry for Sam to work with.
But he got him. He cornered Ray in the Gents at the station, after hours. It had been a quiet few days and Sam was sure they wouldn't be disturbed. A few well-aimed punches on both sides and Sam was able to drag Ray into one of the cubicles and unbutton his trousers.
Ray's eyes widened as Sam knelt in front of him, releasing his cock from his underpants and swallowing him whole.
Sam reflected that Ray probably didn't struggle as much as he was expecting after that. Indeed, Ray seemed to enjoy it rather a lot.
"I always knew you were a fucking cocksucker," Ray spat afterwards, trying desperately to get his breath back.
"Why yes. Yes, I am." agreed Sam and, taking advantage of Ray's out of breath state, demonstrated the other part of that appellation.
* * * * *
Ah, the Guv. Now that was an interesting one. That could go either way. Sam already knew that Gene enjoyed their little altercations a bit too much. Gene always came away from them breathing a little too heavily, eyes a little too unfocused.
But would he, in the face of blatant temptation, turn those violent energies in another direction?
The temptation of whisky drove the Guv into his bed. A night down at the Railway Arms, a knowing wink and the man followed, just as Sam had wanted.
Sam pinned Gene against the garish wallpaper of his flat in a searing kiss. Gene responded at first, and Sam pulled back with a laugh.
"I always knew you protested too much."
Gene took a swing for him, connecting sharply with Sam's chin and Sam retaliated, blow for blow, as they fought around the room, neatly dodging the TV and bed, ducking and diving, seeking out flesh to redden and hurt.
And then later, with Gene backed against the wall, on his knees, sucking Sam's cock for all it was worth, one eye blackened and already swelling shut. His split lip and grazed knuckles bled as his hands grasped at Sam's hips while Sam thrust forward, forcing Gene to take as much of his cock as possible.
Sam looked down and chuckled. "Christ, Gene. You should see yourself now. You're an absolute picture."
And he was. Pressed against the wall, Sam towering over him, his trousers discarded along with his shoes and socks, his shirt hanging loose, grazing his hips.
Sam laughed again. "The great Gene Hunt, on his knees, all mouth and no trousers."
* * * * *
Gene didn't last. As always, once the conquest had been made, Sam lost interest. It didn't stop Gene from roughing up Sam at odd moments, bewilderedly wondering where the spark had gone.
But Sam wanted, needed something sweeter. Something even more taboo than a colleague, a subordinate, a boss. So, he found himself facing a front door, armed with an address he'd wheedled out of Jan down in Records with the promise of a candlelit dinner for two.
Pausing only a moment to check his reflection in the window and to check that the cut flowers were still perfectly arranged, Sam knocked and stood back from the door.
He only had to wait a couple of minutes before the door opened.
Sam put on his most charming smile, "Good evening, Mrs. Tyler. I was just passing and thought I'd come and enquire as to how you are."
fin
AUTHOR: Andromeda
FANDOM: Life on Mars
SUMMARY: Or Sam does Dallas Manchester
RATING: Red Cortina, Sam/various, explicit sex, warning for implied incest.
WORD COUNT: 1,150 words
EMAIL: fiandyfic@livejournal.com
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Um. Sorry. This has been sat on my hard-drive for months and I forgotten all about it. Then I found it, finished it and sent it to darthfi for a beta. It was then recycled into firelighters sent back just as the pornfest was going critical. But here it is, just the same.
DISCLAIMER: Life on Mars is copyright Kudos and the BBC. All Rights Reserved. No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made. Title shamelessly borrowed from Stephen King.
Needful Things
Sam had always wanted the things he could not have. Oh, he wanted the things he could have as well, but the out of reach was so much more tempting, forbidden fruit being that little bit sweeter.
Annie, gentle Annie. He knew he could have her, all Sam had to do was beckon and she would follow. But she proved to be more of a challenge than Sam thought.
It took three months of Saturday night dates, trips to the cinema, to concerts, to restaurants and to bars before she finally said yes.
Finally, he took her hand and led her to bed, laying her down tenderly, and with tongue and talented fingers eliciting groans that were a testament to his skill. Later, he took his reward as the moon shone through the thin curtains, casting a luminescent glow over their writhing, interconnected bodies. Driving into her again and again, Annie gasped at the sensations he caused and Sam reflected that only the presence of broad black leather and moonlit steel could add to the picture they made.
Once he had had her, she spoke about moving in together, perhaps even settling down. But, without letting her down too much, Sam moved on.
* * * * *
Phyllis was a surprise, a chance encounter in the alleyway behind the Railway Arms. She was ready and willing and Sam never looked a gift horse in the mouth.
He pinned her against the wall, damp and hot, as his hands made their way under her skirt.
His wandering digits only met with hot flesh and he drew back slightly in askance.
Phyllis smirked. "Well, I knew you were up for it, and most blokes don't know their way round a lady's underwear. Best make hay, you know?"
Sam did, and he wasted no time in doing so. Phyllis was demanding, one hand finding her balance on his shoulder, nails digging into the skin beneath Sam's thin shirt, as he fucked her against the wall. Her skirt pushed up over her hips, one sensible shoe digging into the small of his back as she pulled him into her with a strength that surprised Sam, her other hand reaching down to find her own pleasure as he thrust into her again and again.
She came with a cry and he followed her soon after, the pair almost collapsing to the cobbles as they disentangled.
"This is the only time it will happen," Sam warned.
Phyllis just smiled and with a knowing wink replied, "Right you are, Boss."
* * * * *
The next conquest required a gentle seduction. Pats on the shoulder that lingered a little too long. Words of praise accompanied by a guileless smile. Privately shared jokes and gazes that smouldered.
Chris had always looked up to Sam with a cute, puppyish adoration. Carefully, gently, Sam cultivated it into something else, something a little more raw, more desperate. Friendship laced with lust, Sam waited for Chris to come to him, waited until the need, so barely articulated, ran through Chris's veins, sweet and hot.
Then, and only then, did Sam acknowledge that need. Took that desperation and turned it into passion before setting it free in a tangle of sweat-slick limbs, hot, sweet kisses and the burn of a virgin coupling.
As masterful as he was in pulling strings, Sam did not need to finish that affair. A little twist of guilt laid on top of an urge half-despised, and Chris ended it for him.
It was not the best end to a relationship ever, but Sam stoically took the victories where he could.
* * * * *
He wanted Ray, but didn't think could have him. There was too much hatred there and too much bigotry for Sam to work with.
But he got him. He cornered Ray in the Gents at the station, after hours. It had been a quiet few days and Sam was sure they wouldn't be disturbed. A few well-aimed punches on both sides and Sam was able to drag Ray into one of the cubicles and unbutton his trousers.
Ray's eyes widened as Sam knelt in front of him, releasing his cock from his underpants and swallowing him whole.
Sam reflected that Ray probably didn't struggle as much as he was expecting after that. Indeed, Ray seemed to enjoy it rather a lot.
"I always knew you were a fucking cocksucker," Ray spat afterwards, trying desperately to get his breath back.
"Why yes. Yes, I am." agreed Sam and, taking advantage of Ray's out of breath state, demonstrated the other part of that appellation.
* * * * *
Ah, the Guv. Now that was an interesting one. That could go either way. Sam already knew that Gene enjoyed their little altercations a bit too much. Gene always came away from them breathing a little too heavily, eyes a little too unfocused.
But would he, in the face of blatant temptation, turn those violent energies in another direction?
The temptation of whisky drove the Guv into his bed. A night down at the Railway Arms, a knowing wink and the man followed, just as Sam had wanted.
Sam pinned Gene against the garish wallpaper of his flat in a searing kiss. Gene responded at first, and Sam pulled back with a laugh.
"I always knew you protested too much."
Gene took a swing for him, connecting sharply with Sam's chin and Sam retaliated, blow for blow, as they fought around the room, neatly dodging the TV and bed, ducking and diving, seeking out flesh to redden and hurt.
And then later, with Gene backed against the wall, on his knees, sucking Sam's cock for all it was worth, one eye blackened and already swelling shut. His split lip and grazed knuckles bled as his hands grasped at Sam's hips while Sam thrust forward, forcing Gene to take as much of his cock as possible.
Sam looked down and chuckled. "Christ, Gene. You should see yourself now. You're an absolute picture."
And he was. Pressed against the wall, Sam towering over him, his trousers discarded along with his shoes and socks, his shirt hanging loose, grazing his hips.
Sam laughed again. "The great Gene Hunt, on his knees, all mouth and no trousers."
* * * * *
Gene didn't last. As always, once the conquest had been made, Sam lost interest. It didn't stop Gene from roughing up Sam at odd moments, bewilderedly wondering where the spark had gone.
But Sam wanted, needed something sweeter. Something even more taboo than a colleague, a subordinate, a boss. So, he found himself facing a front door, armed with an address he'd wheedled out of Jan down in Records with the promise of a candlelit dinner for two.
Pausing only a moment to check his reflection in the window and to check that the cut flowers were still perfectly arranged, Sam knocked and stood back from the door.
He only had to wait a couple of minutes before the door opened.
Sam put on his most charming smile, "Good evening, Mrs. Tyler. I was just passing and thought I'd come and enquire as to how you are."
fin