Advent Calendar Day 19: the fire is so delightful, Brown Cortina, Sam/Gene, by talkingtothesky
"What are you doing down here?" The only light is the faint flickering of the flames in the grate. Sam's sitting cross-legged in front of the fire, pyjama top rucked up a little at the back. He scratches a hand over his ruffled hair as he turns to glance back at Gene who's standing at the foot of the stairs.
"Can't sleep."
Gene pouts a little. "Neither can I, when you're not upstairs." He crosses the room and sinks onto the warm rug with a grateful groan, and shrugs one arm out of his dressing gown so he can wrap it around Sam's back and pull him in close.
Sam sighs and has to uncross his legs a bit for balance. After some more wriggling and wrangling he manages to curl his fingers into the crease above Gene's hip, inside the dressing gown. Gene slowly lets his head tilt to the left enough to come into contact with Sam's, and gazes into the fire with him. "Any particular reason you can't sleep?"
Sam's quiet for a little while. Eventually he says "Nostalgia."
Gene's eyebrows go up. He lifts his head up straight again. "Don't tell me you're missing Hyde?"
Sam shrugs. Gene tightens his hold on the edge of the dressing gown. "Not exactly. I...can't explain it. Sorry."
"Eh, don't be. But you're not gonna be crying into your sprouts tomorrow?"
Sam snorts. Gene feels it all along his arm, the brief backward jolt of Sam's spine. "I don't plan to, no. Just...thinking."
"You can't think in bed?"
"You complain my late night thinking wakes you up."
"My feet getting steadily colder 'cause you've buggered off downstairs wakes me up too."
Sam gives him a wry smile. "Can't win, can I."
"There'll be no Santa either if you stay up all night."
"Already found the secret stash of presents, though, haven't I?" Gene looks crestfallen and Sam taps the end of his nose, suddenly playful instead of sombre.
Gene checks the clock on the wall above the fire. "Well, it's gone midnight. You want to open some?"
Sam thinks for a moment and then shakes his head, a cheeky grin still stretching out his face.
Gene narrows his eyes at him. "You don't know where they are, then."
"Kitchen cupboard above the cooker, third shelf up behind the knackered toaster."
"...But I hid the stepladder."
"Not very well."
"Spoilsport."
"You've not wrapped them very neatly."
"How could I when you kept appearing out of nowhere? I've been hiding things behind me back all month."
Sam lets go of Gene's hip to scrabble his fingers up and down his back. "Nothing there now."
Gene's shoulders stiffen reflexively and he desperately tries to relax. Wouldn't do for Sam to take advantage of his ticklishness. To distract him Gene wraps his right arm across Sam's front and knits his fingers together on Sam's left shoulder, squashing him into a sort of sideways hug.
Sam says "Nice of you to try" and rests his chin on Gene's forearm. His hand flattens out on Gene's back. No more tickling.
They settle down into a comfortable silence again, the fire warming them thoroughly. After a while Gene's arms get tired and he lets them drop, but they're sitting close enough that they stay in contact from shoulder to knee.
Gene's about to suggest they go back upstairs and try to get some kip when Sam asks quietly "Can you really not sleep alone anymore?" Gene shrugs. He's not really thought of it like that. He doesn't like the idea of Sam up half the night worrying himself to death over nothing, though.
The next thing Gene feels is soft, gentle pressure on his sideburn, and his lips part in surprise, drawing in a deep breath as Sam dips his head to trail slow kisses down his jawline. Gene's eyelids flutter shut, anticipating Sam's lips on his, but instead Sam heads for his neck, kisses gradually becoming wetter and firmer, until he's all but sucking at the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder, tugging Gene's open collar aside. Gene's breathing stutters, so that his exhalation of Sam's name ends up almost as two syllables.
"Yeah?" Sam's breath ghosts warmly over his ear.
Gene's been leaning back on his arms with his palms flat on the floor, but now he sits up and reaches out, eyes open again. He tucks one hand up the back of Sam's top, tilting Sam's chin up with two fingers of the other. Sam's eyes dart down to his mouth and back up again. Gene holds his gaze for a moment longer, hovering inches apart, and this time it's Sam's turn to close his eyes in expectation before Gene closes the gap. He means to be gentle, take it slowly, but the moment their mouths meet Sam kisses back so hard there's no room for patience. His hand slides around to the back of Sam's head, pressing him nearer as the kiss gets deeper, jets of air brushing Gene's cheek as Sam breathes quickly through his nose. Gene curls his tongue in a way he knows Sam particularly likes, and the response is even more enthusiastic than expected - Sam grunts fiercely and lurches forward, practically climbing into Gene's lap, their torsos bumping together. Caught off guard, the kiss breaks with a wet pop as Gene topples backwards. "Oomph!" He finds himself on his back with Sam lying heavily on top of him, but the rug is thick and soft enough that he doesn't hurt his head. Sam's laughing silently, Gene can feel the convulsions all the way from chest to hips. "You've cheered up, then." He pats Sam's back and then drops his arm again as he realises his dressing gown has got bunched up tight under his back and it's restricting his movement. "Let me up a minute."
Sam lifts himself up on his arms, legs still entangled with Gene's, until he notices Gene's problem and clambers off to allow him to sit up. As he kneels up to help tug the garment off Gene's shoulders, Gene spots the sizeable tent in Sam's pyjama trousers and his mouth goes momentarily dry. He's not so far along himself yet, but he's eager to continue. Throwing the heavy cloth across the room out of the way, he pulls Sam back into his arms, gratified when Sam's erection bumps into his belly. Sam moans, squirms, moves his hips away in what Gene guesses is embarrassment. Gene strokes up and down the long column of Sam's throat with the backs of his knuckles, then coaxes Sam to lie down beside him. He kisses Sam again, just once and softly, like he meant to before, capturing Sam's lower lip between his own before letting go. The corners of Sam's mouth go up, and his cheeks puff out, visibly happy and calmer and more pliant. Gene watches his face closely, feeling his heart soar at the simple pleasure of watching Sam smile.
While he's doing that, though, Sam's hand has found its way round to Gene's back, searching for the ticklish point on his spine which he'd almost triggered earlier. Gene realises Sam's intentions too late, suddenly jerking under a tickle assault. "Oi! Y'little bugger. Stop tha-ahahaha." He wriggles helplessly in Sam's grip, rolling over onto his back in an attempt to squash Sam's hand and stop it moving, but Sam moves with him, straddling him again and mercilessly attacking his sides.
He looks unbearably smug, bringing his face close to Gene's and asking "Was that a giggle, DCI Hunt?" This is tantamount to a challenge, leaving Gene no option but to rear up again, getting his knees up against the back of Sam's thighs to unbalance him and flip them over to reverse the positions. He has just enough awareness left of the space they're in to roll them away from the fireplace rather than any closer towards it. As an added precaution against further tickling, he manages to grab Sam's wrists and pin them to the floor above his head. Sam glares blearily up at him, pouting at Gene for ruining his fun, but he doesn't try to fight his way out of Gene's grip. He stays perfectly still, apart from the way he's softly panting for breath, waiting for Gene to decide what to do next. Gene's cock twitches, and he realises he's filled out to be as hard as Sam. It suddenly becomes a necessity to get as much skin contact as possible. Transferring both of Sam's wrists to one of his hands, and trying not to lean too heavily on them, Gene begins to unbutton Sam's shirt. Sam's chest rhythmically rises and falls with his breathing, brushing against Gene's fingers, and he makes sure to caress it every chance he gets. But Sam's vest underneath is in the way. Gene grunts, struggles to pull it up one-handed. Sam lifts his hips, trying to create a space under his back to help Gene, ends up pushing their groins together and drawing quiet groans from them both. Even through two layers of clothing, more of that friction is exactly what Gene needs. Nevertheless he manages to regain his concentration and bunch the vest up near Sam's collarbones.
He ought to tug Sam's trousers down next, expose him to the air, but he's kneeling astride him, knees tight to Sam's thighs, and besides there's still a part of him that wants to take things slow. So he plants his empty palm on the floor again to take his weight, and dips his head to Sam's navel. The natural ongoing movement of Sam's torso, regular as waves in the sea, stutters momentarily as Sam gasps at the first swipe of Gene's tongue just above his bellybutton. Gene glances up to check Sam's expression; Sam's craning his head up to see, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. At Gene's lopsided smirk Sam tips his head back down against the floor with an explosive, shaky sigh. Gene can see his chin and the line of his jaw working with the effort not to let go too soon. "Alright?" He asks, just to wind Sam up even further.
Sam's hands flex into fists and relax again in Gene's grasp. "Yesss, god," he grits out, tightly. "Just-" hurry up, he doesn't need to say. Gene ducks down again and kisses the patch of skin he just licked. Then he repositions himself further up and does the same thing, several times, in several different places, lavishing attention over Sam's ribs, sides, his sparse smattering of chest hair, until Sam's quivering beneath him. So when Gene's mouth finally finds one of Sam's nipples and sucks hard, Sam cries out, bucking upwards so fast Gene's half-convinced he's done it, but Sam's tossing his head from side to side, eyes screwed shut, hanging on just barely.
"Sam, you can come if you want to," Gene prods, taking pity on him at last.
Sam whines with desperation. "Can't. Need to...Gene, can I touch...?"
Gene realises his grip on Sam's wrists has gone lax enough for Sam to get free whenever he wants to, but he hasn't. Gene gives them a brief, gentle squeeze, stroking with his thumb. Then, just in case, "no more tickling, promise?"
"Fffffff," Sam splutters, then amazingly manages to roll his eyes. "Promise."
Gene lets him go, and gently lowers himself down to lie flush against him. The first thing Sam does with his hands free is brush Gene's hair back, cupping the back of his head with both hands to pull him into a stunning kiss. Then he nudges Gene over so they can both lie on their sides. Finally he grabs Gene's hand and drags it down under the waistband of his pyjama bottoms to guide it onto his cock. Gene marvels at the feel of it; a patch of damp fabric clings to the back of his hand, and Sam is so slick and ready Gene barely needs to swipe at the head of his cock with his thumb once or twice and squeeze him lightly before Sam's off like a firework, face buried in Gene's shoulder. He keeps hugging Gene to him even after it's all over, eventually becoming aware enough to put a hand on Gene's arse and encourage him to rub off against his thigh. Gene feels his orgasm sweep through him with surprising speed, his whole body suffused with warmth. After that the only sounds he can hear are of their breaths and heartbeats returning to normal, and the intermittent crackle of the fire still burning.