Fic: Homeward bound (Who's to say 'verse)
Title: Homeward bound
Author: Me...lol
Spoilers: It's set in 1981 so spoilers for all before but really not that many for A2A.
Rating: oh Brown/Red Cortina baby (Smut be here)
Word Count: 3,960
Pairings: Gene/Sam.
Summary: Gene's coming home at last and he can't wait to see a certain Inspector.
A/N: This took some bloody doing, my brain is just about fried but I couldn't leave off until I'd finished it. It's long but it's all kinds of filthy fun,lol. The next installment in the 'Who's to say' 'verse. It's set between...
Truth be told Green Cortina (Gene/Sam & Annie/Sam)
Love hurts Green Cortina (Annie/Sam & Gene/Sam)
Dreamers never lie Green cortina (Sam/Gene)
Stand and deliver Green Cortina (Gene/Sam)
It's taken Gene two months to secure his transfer, but finally he's headed back to his city and his man. He hasn't told Sam he's coming, thought it'd be a good idea to surprise him. He can't wait to see his face when he walks into the Railways Arms.
Ray, rather predictably has decided to follow Gene back but Chris has chosen to stay in London. Good for him, he'll go far and he's promised to keep in touch, let Gene and the others know how he's getting on.
They've spent every weekend together since Sam went and confronted him. Sam's travelled down to London each Friday, they've holed up in Gene's flat and haven't surfaced again until Sunday evening when Sam's had to drive back.
Gene's never spent so much time naked before. He's become quite accustomed to wandering around in the buff with Sam wolf whistling and making lude suggestions.
Each week has taken forever to pass and then the weekends have fled by, leaving both men craving another few hours.
Gene thinks perhaps he's turned soft in his old age, he keeps finding himself doodling Sam's name on those horrid little post-it notes and humming, bloody humming for no sodding reason.
They've mastered the art of phone sex and become quite adept at letter writing. Not that four pages of smutty descriptions and indecent pictograms counts as a letter, seems to amuse the pair of them though.
Jesus, they've turned into a couple of Mary Sue's.
Gene doesn't really mind though, not when the reward for being such a soppy bugger is Sam spread eagled, covered in honey or something else equally as sticky sweet and begging to be ridden like a wild pony.
So, he's in his car, bopping along to a bit of Status Quo and enjoying the frenzied anticipation of finally getting to see Sam properly, back on his home turf. Not that it'll be easy mind. They can't just start snoggin' in the halls of CID. Although, Ray's face would be priceless. Not to mention Phyllis's.
They've agreed that they'll get a flat together, they'd gotten into the habit of driving to work together anyway, no one'll notice if they start doing it again.
It'll be strange, being back in his old division. He's only been gone 3 months but even now Gene can feel the things he's learnt in London changing the way his brain ticks over.
The main thing is he'll be home, at last.
That first week, after Sam'd had to leave, go back to Manchester, was absolute torture. Knowing they'd crossed the line, that they were really doing this but they couldn't be together. It drove them both mad. It'd broken Gene's heart having to listen to Sam actually crying down the phone.
Too many whiskey chasers and Sam turned into a complete girl but if Gene was completely honest, he'd felt like bawling a fair few times since finally admitting how much he needed and wanted Sam in his life.
He's not far, another 20 minutes and he'll be parked up outside his local. That was another thing, he could never find a pub he liked in London, too many students, not enough decent music and the prices were extortionate. Plus he'd missed Nelson's toothy grin and wise cracking humour.
He can feel Manchester seeping back into his pores, the smells and sounds. The way he knows every corner, every haunt and dive. The people and places, it's all so familiar yet so new. Running away has certainly given him some perspective.
Finally he comes to a stop in the alley behind the pub. He kills the engine and sits with his head on the steering wheel for a moment, just taking it in, enjoying the sense of 'home' these streets bring him.
Pocketing his keys, he hauls himself out the car, not bothering to lock it. He may've been away for a while but the scum wouldn't dare steal his motor, not even now.
He can't decide whether to walk in the front or the back door. The front will mean he makes an entrance, the back means he can really surprise everyone. For everyone read Sam, but still. He knows Sam'll be here. It's a Tuesday and he always plays darts with the rest of the Squad. He took Gene's spot when he left, it's good, means he can mingle with his men and keep Gene's place open for him.
Gene makes a decision. He'll pop in the back, slide in unnoticed and wait for Sam to actually spot him. Should be good for a laugh. He likes to pretend he's unaffected when it comes to Sam, in truth he's got goose bumps in places he didn't know they could sprout and his dick is already half hard at the thought of shaggin' Sam to within an inch of his life.
He takes a deep breath and heads into the pub. The sounds and smells of his favourite watering hole infiltrate his senses, forcing their way back into his system. He can hear the lads ribbin' some poor bird and Nelson's infectious laugh. The iridescent stench of too many men in one small space seeps up his nose, permeates his clothes.
God it's good to be back.
He peeks round the door into the bar, spots Nelson and nods, slipping a finger against his lips, he motions for him to keep Gene's presence quiet. The land lord just smiles, nods once and turns back to his paper, a silly little grin plastered on his face.
He takes his time, left then right then left again. Eventually he's leaning casually against the bar. Looking as if he's been there all night. He lets the heady mix of familiarity and peace wash away the itch and scratch of London. He's been craving this place, these people. One above all.
Gene spots him in the corner, concentrating on a shot he'll never pull off. He throws the dart, watches with sad resignation as the flight flips up and over, embedding the point into the cork board beneath it's supposed destination. He shakes his head, kicks a table leg in frustration and swears under his breath.
The image is one that Gene's been hankering after for three solid months, 93 days spent daydreaming about Tyler looking like a prat isn't good for the brain but it's certainly good for his soul. Sam in London was one thing, Sam here is a whole other ball game. This is where they belong, together.
See, soft!
He smiles softly, enjoys the sight of Sam pouting like a child and sulking for England. Some things will never change.
Gene waits patiently. Sam'll come to the bar eventually and when he does, Gene can't wait to see the look on his face.
Finally Sam downs the dregs of his pint and turns towards the bar. He doesn't see Gene, instead he heads for the uniform swaying precariously on his stool. They chat for a minute, Sam helps him to the door, pats him on the back and waves him on his way. Ever the bloody do gooder.
When Sam turns, sees a flash of familiar colour, he thinks he's hallucinating. He's imagined Gene walking into the pub so many times over the last weeks that he's begun to doubt his already fragile sanity.
He slams his eyes shut, rubs his face and pinches his arm. When Gene obstinately refuses to dissolve away to nothing, Sam shouts so loud several people drop their drinks.
"You bastard"
"Nice, that the welcome I get is it?"
"You complete bastard"
Sam eats up the distance between them in a few short strides, wrapping himself round Gene and squeezing him hard enough that Gene's sure he can feel ribs cracking.
Gene sinks into the embrace, lays his own arms around Sam's quaking form, allows himself to breath in the scent of prissy boy aftershave and stale ciggies.
They cling to each other a minute longer than is strictly required of a senior officer and his deputy. Then Gene remembers exactly where they are and shoves Sam away from him, laughing and shaking his head.
"Ger'off you poof"
"Well if you're gonna be like that you can piss off back to London"
Gene affects a wounded pose, hand on heart, head drooping.
"You don't mean that"
Sam attempts a stern look, fails miserably and falls about laughing.
"Nah, but it was worth it for the look on your face"
The humour is natural, it's a mechanism but it's more than that, it's built in to who and what they are. The easy banter and gruff affection is something else they've both been missing since Gene did his disappearing act.
"So, drink?"
"One track mind, you"
The lines around Gene's eyes crease and he bites his lip, waggling his 'brows at Sam.
"All right, two tracks, but they're both mucky"
"I'll try again shall I. Drink?"
"Drink"
They settle themselves at the bar, both perched on creaky stools that have seen better days. They sit as close as possible, arms crossed, elbows touching, fingers joined beneath them where no one can see.
"Nelson?"
"Monbrave?"
"Chaser for the boss"
"Commin' up. Welcome back Mr Hunt, we been missin' ya round here. Too quiet"
"Oi, cheeky sod. I'm no that bad"
Nelson chuckles and goes to fetch the drink, leaving Sam and Gene to sit in comfy silence. Sam still can't believe he's here, after all the waiting, wanting, frantic phone sex and filthy notes, he's finally home.
Sam shuts his eyes and inhales, wallowing in the Gene's familiar scent. It calms his nerves and sets them on fire all at the same time.
He isn't gonna be able to stay still for long, not when he's got a six foot something horn dog sat right next to him. So they only saw each other 2 days ago but that was different, that was a world of hurried sex and hushed declarations. A place where a minute not spent touching was a minute wasted.
Here they can take there time, know each other, enjoy each other. It'll be the way it was before Gene got cold feet, except Sam'll actually be waking up to Gene instead of wondering where Gene's waking up.
Sam's so lost in thought he doesn't even notice Nelson bringing their drinks or wishing Gene well again. He's brought back to reality by the distinct waft of scotch drifting up his nose. When he opens his eyes, they meet a pair of stunning green ones. There's a light behind them, a promise, a question. It makes Sam's heart hammer in his chest and his cock twitch in response.
"Come on Gladys, drink up. I'm famished"
There's no mistaking the meaning behind Gene's words. He wants Sam alone, now. Sam doesn't need telling twice. He downs his drink, coughing and spluttering when the burning liquid goes down the wrong hole.
Gene laughs and slaps him on the back "Still can't take your drink I see"
Sam waits for his eyes to focus and fixes Gene with a glare "Shut it Guv"
Gene chuckles again and slides from his barstool, Sam on his heels. They head out the back door, offering Nelson a wave good bye.
Once outside, Sam can't resist a sneaky snog. Just a quick one, they're still in plain sight and stood right under a street lamp. He slips his hand between Gene's coat and shirt, scratching a pattern on Gene's already heated skin.
Gene stretches like a lazy cat enjoying a good pet. His entire body shivers and he arches his back into Sam's hand.
Sam shifts onto his toes and runs the tip of his tongue along Gene's bottom lip. Gene opens his mouth a little, offering Sam the opening he needs. He covers Gene's mouth with his own, massaging Gene's lips, hollowing his cheeks and sucking Gene's tongue into his mouth.
Sam slips his other hand up Gene's waist, along his chest giving the nipple a quick pinch and across his shoulder, coming to a stop tangled in Gene's hair.
Gene's gripping the back of Sam's head with one hand, holding him steady, not letting him slip away. He's got the other on Sam's arse, flexing his fingers, digging his nails into cloth covered flesh.
Breathing is becoming an issue, the pair of them are so wrapped up in each other, the spots dancing behind their eyes are a mere distraction. Eventually they have to break for air, both panting and flustered. Forehands touching, they look into each others eyes.
"Shit"
"Yea"
"Come on, 'for I decide to rut you against the bonnet of the car"
Sam's eyes widen and his breathing falters.
"You'd like that wouldn't you? You really are a dirty little slag Tyler"
"You love it"
Gene's eyes become serious for a second. His grip on Sam's neck is almost painful, his fingers are twitching and his gaze flicks left and right. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again.
"I..I do, yer know..I mean I"
Sam can see the struggle going on in Gene's head, he desperately wants to say it but he's still a man from a different generation, men just don't go admitting they've fallen arse over tit in love with other men.
Sam takes pity. He knows, after all. How can he not?
"I know, Gene. I know"
Gene breathes a sigh of relief, his grips slackens a little and he mouths 'Thank you' to Sam.
They straighten, pull away from each other and head for the car.
Sam's got himself, well he's got them, a new place. It's small but it's not scuddy like his last gaff. He hopes Gene'll like it. He gives him directions and they speed off towards their new home. Neither one is sitting comfortably, they've both got raging hard ons and brains full of smutty ideas to pass the time between now and tomorrow morning.
If Gene's driving is a little shaky, a little haphazard, Sam doesn't comment. If it was him driving, they'd have probably ended up wrapped round a lamp post.
Sam decides to play a little dirty. Half way back, he slides across towards Gene, runs a hand up the inside of his thigh, raking his nails down the material, leaving goose bumps behind. The car swerves and Gene swears. He glares at Sam from the drivers seat, but says nothing.
Sam takes that as a sign for the good and continues scratching tiny patterns in Gene's trouser leg. Sliding his fingers within millimetres of his cock then swiftly dragging his hand away before Gene can grind himself into Sam's palm.
The bulge in Gene's trousers is clearly visible and his left eye is twitching but he keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
Sam un clips his seat belt, hunches his shoulders and bends his head towards Gene's crotch.
Gene can feel Sam's hot breath puffing against him through his trousers. It's excruciating but it's something he's been imagining the entire drive back so he's not gonna complain. When Sam's tongue snakes out and rasps against his trapped cock, Gene almost plows them into a wall.
Sam begins to mouth the bulge in Gene's trousers, lapping and sucking, engulfing him in heat but never actually touching skin. Gene's squirming in his seat, moaning and gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles go numb.
His trousers are beginning to cut off circulation and his legs are tingling, actually tingling but he doesn't dare say anything, doesn't want Sam stopping what he's doing.
Sam hollows his cheeks and sucks Gene into his mouth, material and all. Gene practically leaps out his seat. How he manages to keep the car going in a straight line, he'll never know but the sensations Sam's creating are gonna drive him insane.
"Stop"
Sam ignores him, carries on tonguing his crotch and he can feel saliva seeping through the material now. A tantalizing reminder that a few thin layers separate Sam's tongue and his cock.
"Please, stop"
Sam gives him one last squeeze and pulls up, wiping his mouth and smirking.
"What's up Guv, too much for you?"
"Unless you wanna spend the next week in traction 'cos I drove us into someone's front garden, I advise you keep that wicked mouth of yours to yourself 'til we get home"
Sam chuckles darkly and points ahead of him. "That's it. You wanna pull in here"
Gene swings the car round the corner on two wheels and slides into a parking space, scuffing up dust and debris. He's now uncomfortably hard and can think of nothing but sliding inside Sam's tight little body.
Sam exits the car and waits for Gene to gather himself enough to get out. Drumming his fingers on the roof of the car, he smiles to himself, smug that he can still make Gene crazy.
Gene eventually climbs out, readjusting himself and grumbling under his breath about 'Wanton slags'
He limps in the direction of the flats then realises he doesn't know where he's going and waits for Sam to fall in step.
Sam saunters past him, squeezes his arse and keeps walking.
Gene's mouth hangs open, as if he can't quite believe the gaul of some people then grits his teeth and follows on.
Sam's just about to put his key in the lock when Gene slams into him from behind making him hit his head against the door. He stays slumped against wood, trying to stop his nose from throbbing, when he feels Gene's tongue, lapping at his neck, curling up and round his ear, dipping inside and then withdrawing.
His hands aren't idle. He's forced one inside Sam's trousers and is gripping him, almost to the point of pain.
"Think you're so clever Sammy boy? Let's see how you like it"
He takes up an angry rhythm, sliding his fingers across the tip of Sam's cock and then slamming them downwards to the base. All the while his mouth is doing amazing, wonderful things to Sam's neck and throat. He's nibbling on Sam's ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth, sending spasms of electricity shooting round Sam's body straight to his cock.
Sam's hips jerk, he tries to match Gene's movements but Gene holds him still, hand on his hip preventing him from joining in the fun.
Eventually Sam begs Gene to stop, stop or he's gonna cum in his pants but Gene keeps up his steady strokes, dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Just as Sam feels his spine twist, his balls tighten, Gene retracts his hand, leaving Sam cold and aching.
"Bastard"
"Not nice is it?"
"Bloody bastard"
Gene smirks and plucks the key from Sam's limp hand. He opens the door and shoves Sam through. Sam's still trying to remember where he left his legs, they've gone completely numb and he can't feel his toes. Bastard.
Sam comes back to himself enough to lead the way to thier flat, up the stairs, left, right then left again. He's fumbling with a second key, attempting to find the lock and missing everytime. He can't concentrate because Gene is behind him, right behind him, grinding himself into his backside. Swivelling his hips and pressing his cock into Sam's arse.
It's making Sam's own cock jump and twitch and as a result he can't seem to get his bloody hands or brain to work. Finally Sam manages to slip the key in the lock and they're inside.
He'd been so nervous about this place, what if Gene didn't like it, what if he didn't want to stay here with him but by the looks, Gene wouldn't care if it was bare floor boards and a packing crate for a bed, as long as there's something to slam Sam into, he's happy.
Gene's still behind Sam, still got his hands all over his back, scratching and groping, grabbing at clothes and skin. They thump into a wall, almost knocking a picture down. Sam's about to protest, tell Gene to watch it, when he's got his hand down his trousers again and all rational thought flees.
Gene wastes no time making short work of Sam's troublesome trousers. Yanking them off, almost ripping them in his haste to get Sam naked.
Sam twists in Gene's arms, turns to face him and slams into a heaving chest, Gene's eyes are wild and his cheeks are flushed. Not so unaffected then.
Sam sets to work on Gene's clothes, ripping his shirt open, popping buttons left and right. He sees a pert nipple and latches on, sucking it into his mouth, running his tongue across the tip, enjoying the way the skin puckers and tightens.
He slavs one nipple, then the other, nipping none so gently, dragging a growl from Gene.
Gene grips Sam's head, pinning his mouth to his chest. Sam sucks and licks, biting and scraping his teeth across salty skin.
Eventually it becomes too much and Gene physically yanks Sam's face away from his body. Sam goes for his trousers next, pulling his zip down, yanking them as far as his arms will reach and then puts his foot in the crotch, pushing them the rest of the way to the floor.
Gene toes his shoes off and steps out of his trousers, flinging them with one foot, paying no attention to where they land.
They stand there, barely dressed, panting, randy as hell and desperate for something, anything to cool the heat, slake the thirst.
Sam pushes Gene backwards, hands flat against his chest, until the backs of his knees bump into the sofa and he crumples, landing heavily on his arse.
Sam looks down at him, takes in his wild eyes, messy hair and erect cock and can't believe he's finally back, finally home. 'Bout bloody time.
Sam crawls into Gene's lap, wraps his legs round his waist, hooks his ankles together behind his back.
Gene slides his hands up Sam's sweaty back and hooks his fingers over Sam's shoulders, anchoring him in place.
Sam shifts up enough to allow Gene's cock into the right position then he slides himself down, engulfing Gene. He watches, transfixed as Gene's eyes roll and his mouth opens in a silent scream. Once Sam's completely encasing him, he bends his head and captures Gene's lips in a searing kiss.
When he starts to rock his hips, slide himself along his length, he doesn't let go of Gene's mouth. Keeps kissing him and kissing him, matching the rhythm his tongue takes to the rhythm his hips take.
Gene begins to jerk his hips, the angle's all wrong but he can't stand not participating. The burn behind his eyes and at the base of his spine is making it physically impossible to just let Sam ride him.
Sam continues to rock them both into nothingness. He slides up, hovers and then slams himself back down, setting off sparks and explosions. There's a buzzing in his ears, he can't feel anything but where he and Gene are connected. He doesn't know where one ends and the other begins.
Gene grips Sam's shoulders tighter, bringing him down hard , making his eye's water with the painful ecstasy of it all. Gene can feel his balls tightening, the twist and snap of something shooting up his spine and then he's cumming, he's cumming hard and fast and Sam's right there with him, shooting sticky streams of himself all over Gene's shirt and chest.
They ride it out, continue to rock until they can see straight, then Sam pulls his mouth from Gene's, rests his forehead against his shoulder and whispers "Welcome home'
Who's to say White Cortina (Gene/Sam)
Author: Me...lol
Spoilers: It's set in 1981 so spoilers for all before but really not that many for A2A.
Rating: oh Brown/Red Cortina baby (Smut be here)
Word Count: 3,960
Pairings: Gene/Sam.
Summary: Gene's coming home at last and he can't wait to see a certain Inspector.
A/N: This took some bloody doing, my brain is just about fried but I couldn't leave off until I'd finished it. It's long but it's all kinds of filthy fun,lol. The next installment in the 'Who's to say' 'verse. It's set between...
Truth be told Green Cortina (Gene/Sam & Annie/Sam)
Love hurts Green Cortina (Annie/Sam & Gene/Sam)
Dreamers never lie Green cortina (Sam/Gene)
Stand and deliver Green Cortina (Gene/Sam)
It's taken Gene two months to secure his transfer, but finally he's headed back to his city and his man. He hasn't told Sam he's coming, thought it'd be a good idea to surprise him. He can't wait to see his face when he walks into the Railways Arms.
Ray, rather predictably has decided to follow Gene back but Chris has chosen to stay in London. Good for him, he'll go far and he's promised to keep in touch, let Gene and the others know how he's getting on.
They've spent every weekend together since Sam went and confronted him. Sam's travelled down to London each Friday, they've holed up in Gene's flat and haven't surfaced again until Sunday evening when Sam's had to drive back.
Gene's never spent so much time naked before. He's become quite accustomed to wandering around in the buff with Sam wolf whistling and making lude suggestions.
Each week has taken forever to pass and then the weekends have fled by, leaving both men craving another few hours.
Gene thinks perhaps he's turned soft in his old age, he keeps finding himself doodling Sam's name on those horrid little post-it notes and humming, bloody humming for no sodding reason.
They've mastered the art of phone sex and become quite adept at letter writing. Not that four pages of smutty descriptions and indecent pictograms counts as a letter, seems to amuse the pair of them though.
Jesus, they've turned into a couple of Mary Sue's.
Gene doesn't really mind though, not when the reward for being such a soppy bugger is Sam spread eagled, covered in honey or something else equally as sticky sweet and begging to be ridden like a wild pony.
So, he's in his car, bopping along to a bit of Status Quo and enjoying the frenzied anticipation of finally getting to see Sam properly, back on his home turf. Not that it'll be easy mind. They can't just start snoggin' in the halls of CID. Although, Ray's face would be priceless. Not to mention Phyllis's.
They've agreed that they'll get a flat together, they'd gotten into the habit of driving to work together anyway, no one'll notice if they start doing it again.
It'll be strange, being back in his old division. He's only been gone 3 months but even now Gene can feel the things he's learnt in London changing the way his brain ticks over.
The main thing is he'll be home, at last.
That first week, after Sam'd had to leave, go back to Manchester, was absolute torture. Knowing they'd crossed the line, that they were really doing this but they couldn't be together. It drove them both mad. It'd broken Gene's heart having to listen to Sam actually crying down the phone.
Too many whiskey chasers and Sam turned into a complete girl but if Gene was completely honest, he'd felt like bawling a fair few times since finally admitting how much he needed and wanted Sam in his life.
He's not far, another 20 minutes and he'll be parked up outside his local. That was another thing, he could never find a pub he liked in London, too many students, not enough decent music and the prices were extortionate. Plus he'd missed Nelson's toothy grin and wise cracking humour.
He can feel Manchester seeping back into his pores, the smells and sounds. The way he knows every corner, every haunt and dive. The people and places, it's all so familiar yet so new. Running away has certainly given him some perspective.
Finally he comes to a stop in the alley behind the pub. He kills the engine and sits with his head on the steering wheel for a moment, just taking it in, enjoying the sense of 'home' these streets bring him.
Pocketing his keys, he hauls himself out the car, not bothering to lock it. He may've been away for a while but the scum wouldn't dare steal his motor, not even now.
He can't decide whether to walk in the front or the back door. The front will mean he makes an entrance, the back means he can really surprise everyone. For everyone read Sam, but still. He knows Sam'll be here. It's a Tuesday and he always plays darts with the rest of the Squad. He took Gene's spot when he left, it's good, means he can mingle with his men and keep Gene's place open for him.
Gene makes a decision. He'll pop in the back, slide in unnoticed and wait for Sam to actually spot him. Should be good for a laugh. He likes to pretend he's unaffected when it comes to Sam, in truth he's got goose bumps in places he didn't know they could sprout and his dick is already half hard at the thought of shaggin' Sam to within an inch of his life.
He takes a deep breath and heads into the pub. The sounds and smells of his favourite watering hole infiltrate his senses, forcing their way back into his system. He can hear the lads ribbin' some poor bird and Nelson's infectious laugh. The iridescent stench of too many men in one small space seeps up his nose, permeates his clothes.
God it's good to be back.
He peeks round the door into the bar, spots Nelson and nods, slipping a finger against his lips, he motions for him to keep Gene's presence quiet. The land lord just smiles, nods once and turns back to his paper, a silly little grin plastered on his face.
He takes his time, left then right then left again. Eventually he's leaning casually against the bar. Looking as if he's been there all night. He lets the heady mix of familiarity and peace wash away the itch and scratch of London. He's been craving this place, these people. One above all.
Gene spots him in the corner, concentrating on a shot he'll never pull off. He throws the dart, watches with sad resignation as the flight flips up and over, embedding the point into the cork board beneath it's supposed destination. He shakes his head, kicks a table leg in frustration and swears under his breath.
The image is one that Gene's been hankering after for three solid months, 93 days spent daydreaming about Tyler looking like a prat isn't good for the brain but it's certainly good for his soul. Sam in London was one thing, Sam here is a whole other ball game. This is where they belong, together.
See, soft!
He smiles softly, enjoys the sight of Sam pouting like a child and sulking for England. Some things will never change.
Gene waits patiently. Sam'll come to the bar eventually and when he does, Gene can't wait to see the look on his face.
Finally Sam downs the dregs of his pint and turns towards the bar. He doesn't see Gene, instead he heads for the uniform swaying precariously on his stool. They chat for a minute, Sam helps him to the door, pats him on the back and waves him on his way. Ever the bloody do gooder.
When Sam turns, sees a flash of familiar colour, he thinks he's hallucinating. He's imagined Gene walking into the pub so many times over the last weeks that he's begun to doubt his already fragile sanity.
He slams his eyes shut, rubs his face and pinches his arm. When Gene obstinately refuses to dissolve away to nothing, Sam shouts so loud several people drop their drinks.
"You bastard"
"Nice, that the welcome I get is it?"
"You complete bastard"
Sam eats up the distance between them in a few short strides, wrapping himself round Gene and squeezing him hard enough that Gene's sure he can feel ribs cracking.
Gene sinks into the embrace, lays his own arms around Sam's quaking form, allows himself to breath in the scent of prissy boy aftershave and stale ciggies.
They cling to each other a minute longer than is strictly required of a senior officer and his deputy. Then Gene remembers exactly where they are and shoves Sam away from him, laughing and shaking his head.
"Ger'off you poof"
"Well if you're gonna be like that you can piss off back to London"
Gene affects a wounded pose, hand on heart, head drooping.
"You don't mean that"
Sam attempts a stern look, fails miserably and falls about laughing.
"Nah, but it was worth it for the look on your face"
The humour is natural, it's a mechanism but it's more than that, it's built in to who and what they are. The easy banter and gruff affection is something else they've both been missing since Gene did his disappearing act.
"So, drink?"
"One track mind, you"
The lines around Gene's eyes crease and he bites his lip, waggling his 'brows at Sam.
"All right, two tracks, but they're both mucky"
"I'll try again shall I. Drink?"
"Drink"
They settle themselves at the bar, both perched on creaky stools that have seen better days. They sit as close as possible, arms crossed, elbows touching, fingers joined beneath them where no one can see.
"Nelson?"
"Monbrave?"
"Chaser for the boss"
"Commin' up. Welcome back Mr Hunt, we been missin' ya round here. Too quiet"
"Oi, cheeky sod. I'm no that bad"
Nelson chuckles and goes to fetch the drink, leaving Sam and Gene to sit in comfy silence. Sam still can't believe he's here, after all the waiting, wanting, frantic phone sex and filthy notes, he's finally home.
Sam shuts his eyes and inhales, wallowing in the Gene's familiar scent. It calms his nerves and sets them on fire all at the same time.
He isn't gonna be able to stay still for long, not when he's got a six foot something horn dog sat right next to him. So they only saw each other 2 days ago but that was different, that was a world of hurried sex and hushed declarations. A place where a minute not spent touching was a minute wasted.
Here they can take there time, know each other, enjoy each other. It'll be the way it was before Gene got cold feet, except Sam'll actually be waking up to Gene instead of wondering where Gene's waking up.
Sam's so lost in thought he doesn't even notice Nelson bringing their drinks or wishing Gene well again. He's brought back to reality by the distinct waft of scotch drifting up his nose. When he opens his eyes, they meet a pair of stunning green ones. There's a light behind them, a promise, a question. It makes Sam's heart hammer in his chest and his cock twitch in response.
"Come on Gladys, drink up. I'm famished"
There's no mistaking the meaning behind Gene's words. He wants Sam alone, now. Sam doesn't need telling twice. He downs his drink, coughing and spluttering when the burning liquid goes down the wrong hole.
Gene laughs and slaps him on the back "Still can't take your drink I see"
Sam waits for his eyes to focus and fixes Gene with a glare "Shut it Guv"
Gene chuckles again and slides from his barstool, Sam on his heels. They head out the back door, offering Nelson a wave good bye.
Once outside, Sam can't resist a sneaky snog. Just a quick one, they're still in plain sight and stood right under a street lamp. He slips his hand between Gene's coat and shirt, scratching a pattern on Gene's already heated skin.
Gene stretches like a lazy cat enjoying a good pet. His entire body shivers and he arches his back into Sam's hand.
Sam shifts onto his toes and runs the tip of his tongue along Gene's bottom lip. Gene opens his mouth a little, offering Sam the opening he needs. He covers Gene's mouth with his own, massaging Gene's lips, hollowing his cheeks and sucking Gene's tongue into his mouth.
Sam slips his other hand up Gene's waist, along his chest giving the nipple a quick pinch and across his shoulder, coming to a stop tangled in Gene's hair.
Gene's gripping the back of Sam's head with one hand, holding him steady, not letting him slip away. He's got the other on Sam's arse, flexing his fingers, digging his nails into cloth covered flesh.
Breathing is becoming an issue, the pair of them are so wrapped up in each other, the spots dancing behind their eyes are a mere distraction. Eventually they have to break for air, both panting and flustered. Forehands touching, they look into each others eyes.
"Shit"
"Yea"
"Come on, 'for I decide to rut you against the bonnet of the car"
Sam's eyes widen and his breathing falters.
"You'd like that wouldn't you? You really are a dirty little slag Tyler"
"You love it"
Gene's eyes become serious for a second. His grip on Sam's neck is almost painful, his fingers are twitching and his gaze flicks left and right. He opens his mouth, shuts it, opens it again.
"I..I do, yer know..I mean I"
Sam can see the struggle going on in Gene's head, he desperately wants to say it but he's still a man from a different generation, men just don't go admitting they've fallen arse over tit in love with other men.
Sam takes pity. He knows, after all. How can he not?
"I know, Gene. I know"
Gene breathes a sigh of relief, his grips slackens a little and he mouths 'Thank you' to Sam.
They straighten, pull away from each other and head for the car.
Sam's got himself, well he's got them, a new place. It's small but it's not scuddy like his last gaff. He hopes Gene'll like it. He gives him directions and they speed off towards their new home. Neither one is sitting comfortably, they've both got raging hard ons and brains full of smutty ideas to pass the time between now and tomorrow morning.
If Gene's driving is a little shaky, a little haphazard, Sam doesn't comment. If it was him driving, they'd have probably ended up wrapped round a lamp post.
Sam decides to play a little dirty. Half way back, he slides across towards Gene, runs a hand up the inside of his thigh, raking his nails down the material, leaving goose bumps behind. The car swerves and Gene swears. He glares at Sam from the drivers seat, but says nothing.
Sam takes that as a sign for the good and continues scratching tiny patterns in Gene's trouser leg. Sliding his fingers within millimetres of his cock then swiftly dragging his hand away before Gene can grind himself into Sam's palm.
The bulge in Gene's trousers is clearly visible and his left eye is twitching but he keeps his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
Sam un clips his seat belt, hunches his shoulders and bends his head towards Gene's crotch.
Gene can feel Sam's hot breath puffing against him through his trousers. It's excruciating but it's something he's been imagining the entire drive back so he's not gonna complain. When Sam's tongue snakes out and rasps against his trapped cock, Gene almost plows them into a wall.
Sam begins to mouth the bulge in Gene's trousers, lapping and sucking, engulfing him in heat but never actually touching skin. Gene's squirming in his seat, moaning and gripping the steering wheel hard enough to make his knuckles go numb.
His trousers are beginning to cut off circulation and his legs are tingling, actually tingling but he doesn't dare say anything, doesn't want Sam stopping what he's doing.
Sam hollows his cheeks and sucks Gene into his mouth, material and all. Gene practically leaps out his seat. How he manages to keep the car going in a straight line, he'll never know but the sensations Sam's creating are gonna drive him insane.
"Stop"
Sam ignores him, carries on tonguing his crotch and he can feel saliva seeping through the material now. A tantalizing reminder that a few thin layers separate Sam's tongue and his cock.
"Please, stop"
Sam gives him one last squeeze and pulls up, wiping his mouth and smirking.
"What's up Guv, too much for you?"
"Unless you wanna spend the next week in traction 'cos I drove us into someone's front garden, I advise you keep that wicked mouth of yours to yourself 'til we get home"
Sam chuckles darkly and points ahead of him. "That's it. You wanna pull in here"
Gene swings the car round the corner on two wheels and slides into a parking space, scuffing up dust and debris. He's now uncomfortably hard and can think of nothing but sliding inside Sam's tight little body.
Sam exits the car and waits for Gene to gather himself enough to get out. Drumming his fingers on the roof of the car, he smiles to himself, smug that he can still make Gene crazy.
Gene eventually climbs out, readjusting himself and grumbling under his breath about 'Wanton slags'
He limps in the direction of the flats then realises he doesn't know where he's going and waits for Sam to fall in step.
Sam saunters past him, squeezes his arse and keeps walking.
Gene's mouth hangs open, as if he can't quite believe the gaul of some people then grits his teeth and follows on.
Sam's just about to put his key in the lock when Gene slams into him from behind making him hit his head against the door. He stays slumped against wood, trying to stop his nose from throbbing, when he feels Gene's tongue, lapping at his neck, curling up and round his ear, dipping inside and then withdrawing.
His hands aren't idle. He's forced one inside Sam's trousers and is gripping him, almost to the point of pain.
"Think you're so clever Sammy boy? Let's see how you like it"
He takes up an angry rhythm, sliding his fingers across the tip of Sam's cock and then slamming them downwards to the base. All the while his mouth is doing amazing, wonderful things to Sam's neck and throat. He's nibbling on Sam's ear, pulling the lobe between his teeth, sending spasms of electricity shooting round Sam's body straight to his cock.
Sam's hips jerk, he tries to match Gene's movements but Gene holds him still, hand on his hip preventing him from joining in the fun.
Eventually Sam begs Gene to stop, stop or he's gonna cum in his pants but Gene keeps up his steady strokes, dragging him closer and closer to the edge. Just as Sam feels his spine twist, his balls tighten, Gene retracts his hand, leaving Sam cold and aching.
"Bastard"
"Not nice is it?"
"Bloody bastard"
Gene smirks and plucks the key from Sam's limp hand. He opens the door and shoves Sam through. Sam's still trying to remember where he left his legs, they've gone completely numb and he can't feel his toes. Bastard.
Sam comes back to himself enough to lead the way to thier flat, up the stairs, left, right then left again. He's fumbling with a second key, attempting to find the lock and missing everytime. He can't concentrate because Gene is behind him, right behind him, grinding himself into his backside. Swivelling his hips and pressing his cock into Sam's arse.
It's making Sam's own cock jump and twitch and as a result he can't seem to get his bloody hands or brain to work. Finally Sam manages to slip the key in the lock and they're inside.
He'd been so nervous about this place, what if Gene didn't like it, what if he didn't want to stay here with him but by the looks, Gene wouldn't care if it was bare floor boards and a packing crate for a bed, as long as there's something to slam Sam into, he's happy.
Gene's still behind Sam, still got his hands all over his back, scratching and groping, grabbing at clothes and skin. They thump into a wall, almost knocking a picture down. Sam's about to protest, tell Gene to watch it, when he's got his hand down his trousers again and all rational thought flees.
Gene wastes no time making short work of Sam's troublesome trousers. Yanking them off, almost ripping them in his haste to get Sam naked.
Sam twists in Gene's arms, turns to face him and slams into a heaving chest, Gene's eyes are wild and his cheeks are flushed. Not so unaffected then.
Sam sets to work on Gene's clothes, ripping his shirt open, popping buttons left and right. He sees a pert nipple and latches on, sucking it into his mouth, running his tongue across the tip, enjoying the way the skin puckers and tightens.
He slavs one nipple, then the other, nipping none so gently, dragging a growl from Gene.
Gene grips Sam's head, pinning his mouth to his chest. Sam sucks and licks, biting and scraping his teeth across salty skin.
Eventually it becomes too much and Gene physically yanks Sam's face away from his body. Sam goes for his trousers next, pulling his zip down, yanking them as far as his arms will reach and then puts his foot in the crotch, pushing them the rest of the way to the floor.
Gene toes his shoes off and steps out of his trousers, flinging them with one foot, paying no attention to where they land.
They stand there, barely dressed, panting, randy as hell and desperate for something, anything to cool the heat, slake the thirst.
Sam pushes Gene backwards, hands flat against his chest, until the backs of his knees bump into the sofa and he crumples, landing heavily on his arse.
Sam looks down at him, takes in his wild eyes, messy hair and erect cock and can't believe he's finally back, finally home. 'Bout bloody time.
Sam crawls into Gene's lap, wraps his legs round his waist, hooks his ankles together behind his back.
Gene slides his hands up Sam's sweaty back and hooks his fingers over Sam's shoulders, anchoring him in place.
Sam shifts up enough to allow Gene's cock into the right position then he slides himself down, engulfing Gene. He watches, transfixed as Gene's eyes roll and his mouth opens in a silent scream. Once Sam's completely encasing him, he bends his head and captures Gene's lips in a searing kiss.
When he starts to rock his hips, slide himself along his length, he doesn't let go of Gene's mouth. Keeps kissing him and kissing him, matching the rhythm his tongue takes to the rhythm his hips take.
Gene begins to jerk his hips, the angle's all wrong but he can't stand not participating. The burn behind his eyes and at the base of his spine is making it physically impossible to just let Sam ride him.
Sam continues to rock them both into nothingness. He slides up, hovers and then slams himself back down, setting off sparks and explosions. There's a buzzing in his ears, he can't feel anything but where he and Gene are connected. He doesn't know where one ends and the other begins.
Gene grips Sam's shoulders tighter, bringing him down hard , making his eye's water with the painful ecstasy of it all. Gene can feel his balls tightening, the twist and snap of something shooting up his spine and then he's cumming, he's cumming hard and fast and Sam's right there with him, shooting sticky streams of himself all over Gene's shirt and chest.
They ride it out, continue to rock until they can see straight, then Sam pulls his mouth from Gene's, rests his forehead against his shoulder and whispers "Welcome home'
Who's to say White Cortina (Gene/Sam)