Fic: Five Times Gene Can't Keep His Hands Off Sam (1/1)
Title: Five Times Gene Can't Keep His Hands Off Sam
Author: missscarlett (formally bells_ringing)
Rating: Mature (sexual content, language, slash)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Spoilers None
Author Notes: Written for the "Five Times" fic meme for le_dook...I hope you like these. Most of them are fluffy (if you can use the word fluff to describe anything invovling LoM!) but there is one angsty one in there...I just can't seem to help myself, I'm afraid. This is bells_ringing, by the way - I've changed my LJ username. Just a heads up so there's no confusion! ;)
One
Sam stumbled his way into the loos of the Railway Arms. He managed to make it to the nearest urinal but he’d barely unzipped his trousers when he felt someone grabbing him by his shoulders and yanking him backwards, putting one hand over his mouth so he couldn’t shout.
Sam tried to struggle but whoever had him had too firm a hold and he was dragged into a cubicle, even though he fought as best he could. Once they were inside, the hand over his mouth was taken away and replaced swiftly with a kiss.
“What the fuck is it about you tonight, Tyler?” Gene demanded in annoyance as he pulled away, Sam letting out a shocked laugh when he realised who his ‘attacker’ actually was.
“Must be all that beer,” said Sam, not squirming away as Gene pressed up closer, slamming the cubical door shut. It was cramped and smelly in the pub toilets...hardly the ideal place to be getting up to anything, but Gene seemed to have been taken over by an unstoppable urge, not taking his hands off Sam. Sam laughed again, quite drunk himself.
Gene kissed Sam again, harder this time, and Sam felt a hand snake up his leg and eventually grope him through his trousers. Then the trousers were being pulled down, and, too drunk to care to protest and secretly enjoying the seediness of it all, Sam relaxed and let Gene give him one of the best hand jobs he’d ever had as the rest of the team drowned themselves in booze back in the pub.
Two
Gene tried to keep his focus on the papers in front of him. He didn’t look at Sam and tried not to keep taking in the scents of soap and leather that poured from his DI, who looked in deep thought as he helped Gene work his way through the pile of witness statements on his desk. They were reading the papers again, hoping to find something useful that they might have missed. Sam’s idea; Gene could think of a million more important things to be doing...or he’d tried to. It had turned out that there wasn’t actually anything else of greater urgency at that moment.
Bored, Gene finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the tray, quickly lighting another. He took his hipflask and indulged in a swig, sighing as he finished the last of the whiskey inside.
“This would go a lot faster if you actually helped me,” insisted Sam without looking up, his eyes carefully scanning over every inch of the bit of paper he held.
Gene watched Sam, secretly admiring just how dedicated he was towards his work and knowing that Sam had made him, Gene, a better man since he turned up. Seeming to sense he was being watched, Sam looked up.
“What?” he frowned at Gene, looking more confused than annoyed.
Gene just chuckled at himself, shaking his head as he wondered when, why and how it had all started.
“What?” Sam asked again, throwing down the paper and glaring, not getting what was funny.
Not even five minutes later, the papers had been temporarily abandoned and Sam was being indulged in a blow job up against the filing cabinet, pleasantly surprising Gene by not moaning even once about the work that really did need doing.
“Guess everyone needs to take a break sometimes,” said Sam afterwards and Gene just smiled. They had a long night ahead of them...more breaks were certainly not out of the question.
Three
He watched Sam snogging the plonk goodbye as she packed up and went home, knowing her bed probably wouldn’t be empty later once Sam’s own shift finished.
“Smug bastard,” muttered Gene as Sam walked back over. He was perched on Tyler’s desk, pretending to have been going over a file on a case they were working on.
“You really bloody do have your cake an’ eat it too,” said Gene as Sam sat back down in his chair.
“Jealous, Guv?” Sam teased, grinning like cat who’d got the cream. Sometimes Tyler had the maturity of a fucking eight-year-old. “Annie’s a fantastic kisser, you know. Has the sweetest lips I’ve ever -”
Pushed passed breaking point, Gene leaned across and grabbed Sam by his jacket lapels, pulling him forward. He pressed his own lips forcefully over Sam’s and it was minutes before he pulls away. When they parted, Sam was left shocked and breathless and, for once, at a loss for words. Gene got up and headed to his office.
“Back to work, then,” he called over his shoulder, though he hated having to tear himself away. Just kissing is never enough when it comes to Sam.
Four
Gene had killed enough times that he should be used to the feeling that came afterwards, but it never got any easier. He remembered the first time someone died by his hand. He’d spent hours at the sink afterwards, scrubbing at his hands, convinced there was still blood on them even when the last traces of it were actually long gone.
“Here, get this down you,” Sam handed him a glass of scotch and Gene took it gratefully, though his hands shook so much that he almost spilled it on the carpet.
Sam had surprised Gene tonight. There were no lectures about psychiatry or taking time of work like he’d expected. Mercifully, Sam was sparing him from all that bullshit and was giving him what he needed; loyalty, companionship. Gene hadn’t wanted to go home to a dark, empty house. The Missus was off in Spain with mates on holiday and he didn’t trust himself alone. So he’d let Sam take him back to his flat, relieved that he wouldn’t have to spent the night on his own, knowing nightmares would come once he drank himself to sleep.
“You can’t blame yourself. You know it would’ve have happened whoever fired that shot...you were just the unlucky one, is all,” Sam said, standing by Gene’s shoulder like some fucking angel.
Gene felt remorse every time he killed, however much the bastard might have deserved it. But when it was a true innocent who somehow got in the line of fire it was all that much worse and a lot harder to dismiss. It had happened less than a handful of times during his service but it never made it easier to accept that somethings just happened and there was sod all you could do about it.
Sometime later he was in bed with Sam, clinging onto his DI like he was a lifeline.
“Make me forget, Sam,” he slurrred, so drunk by this point that it wouldn’t be long before he passed out, but he fought against sleep with determination, fearing its arrival and the gaurteened bad dreams that would come with it.
Understanding, Sam started to touch him. Gene returned the touches, the kisses, and with each one the raw self-loathing would lessen, just a little.
Five
Gene had locked people up for shagging outdoors, but he felt no sense of shame as he gave Sam the fucking of his life in the alleyway behind Sullivan Road. Not even the threat of getting caught intimidated him...at any moment, anyone could look out of their upstairs window and see DCI Hunt slamming his DI up the arse against the dustbins, but, if anything, that only added to the excitement.
Even Sam was taking a rare walk on the wild side, seeming to enjoy the danger instead of listing all the reasons why they shouldn’t be there like Gene thought he’d do.
“Why can’t I keep my sodding hands off you for more than five bloody minutes?” Gene asked later, when they were back in the safety of the Cortina, clothes back on and returning to business as usual.
Sam just grinned. Reluctantly, Gene drove them back to work.
Author: missscarlett (formally bells_ringing)
Rating: Mature (sexual content, language, slash)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Spoilers None
Author Notes: Written for the "Five Times" fic meme for le_dook...I hope you like these. Most of them are fluffy (if you can use the word fluff to describe anything invovling LoM!) but there is one angsty one in there...I just can't seem to help myself, I'm afraid. This is bells_ringing, by the way - I've changed my LJ username. Just a heads up so there's no confusion! ;)
One
Sam stumbled his way into the loos of the Railway Arms. He managed to make it to the nearest urinal but he’d barely unzipped his trousers when he felt someone grabbing him by his shoulders and yanking him backwards, putting one hand over his mouth so he couldn’t shout.
Sam tried to struggle but whoever had him had too firm a hold and he was dragged into a cubicle, even though he fought as best he could. Once they were inside, the hand over his mouth was taken away and replaced swiftly with a kiss.
“What the fuck is it about you tonight, Tyler?” Gene demanded in annoyance as he pulled away, Sam letting out a shocked laugh when he realised who his ‘attacker’ actually was.
“Must be all that beer,” said Sam, not squirming away as Gene pressed up closer, slamming the cubical door shut. It was cramped and smelly in the pub toilets...hardly the ideal place to be getting up to anything, but Gene seemed to have been taken over by an unstoppable urge, not taking his hands off Sam. Sam laughed again, quite drunk himself.
Gene kissed Sam again, harder this time, and Sam felt a hand snake up his leg and eventually grope him through his trousers. Then the trousers were being pulled down, and, too drunk to care to protest and secretly enjoying the seediness of it all, Sam relaxed and let Gene give him one of the best hand jobs he’d ever had as the rest of the team drowned themselves in booze back in the pub.
Two
Gene tried to keep his focus on the papers in front of him. He didn’t look at Sam and tried not to keep taking in the scents of soap and leather that poured from his DI, who looked in deep thought as he helped Gene work his way through the pile of witness statements on his desk. They were reading the papers again, hoping to find something useful that they might have missed. Sam’s idea; Gene could think of a million more important things to be doing...or he’d tried to. It had turned out that there wasn’t actually anything else of greater urgency at that moment.
Bored, Gene finished his cigarette and stubbed it out in the tray, quickly lighting another. He took his hipflask and indulged in a swig, sighing as he finished the last of the whiskey inside.
“This would go a lot faster if you actually helped me,” insisted Sam without looking up, his eyes carefully scanning over every inch of the bit of paper he held.
Gene watched Sam, secretly admiring just how dedicated he was towards his work and knowing that Sam had made him, Gene, a better man since he turned up. Seeming to sense he was being watched, Sam looked up.
“What?” he frowned at Gene, looking more confused than annoyed.
Gene just chuckled at himself, shaking his head as he wondered when, why and how it had all started.
“What?” Sam asked again, throwing down the paper and glaring, not getting what was funny.
Not even five minutes later, the papers had been temporarily abandoned and Sam was being indulged in a blow job up against the filing cabinet, pleasantly surprising Gene by not moaning even once about the work that really did need doing.
“Guess everyone needs to take a break sometimes,” said Sam afterwards and Gene just smiled. They had a long night ahead of them...more breaks were certainly not out of the question.
Three
He watched Sam snogging the plonk goodbye as she packed up and went home, knowing her bed probably wouldn’t be empty later once Sam’s own shift finished.
“Smug bastard,” muttered Gene as Sam walked back over. He was perched on Tyler’s desk, pretending to have been going over a file on a case they were working on.
“You really bloody do have your cake an’ eat it too,” said Gene as Sam sat back down in his chair.
“Jealous, Guv?” Sam teased, grinning like cat who’d got the cream. Sometimes Tyler had the maturity of a fucking eight-year-old. “Annie’s a fantastic kisser, you know. Has the sweetest lips I’ve ever -”
Pushed passed breaking point, Gene leaned across and grabbed Sam by his jacket lapels, pulling him forward. He pressed his own lips forcefully over Sam’s and it was minutes before he pulls away. When they parted, Sam was left shocked and breathless and, for once, at a loss for words. Gene got up and headed to his office.
“Back to work, then,” he called over his shoulder, though he hated having to tear himself away. Just kissing is never enough when it comes to Sam.
Four
Gene had killed enough times that he should be used to the feeling that came afterwards, but it never got any easier. He remembered the first time someone died by his hand. He’d spent hours at the sink afterwards, scrubbing at his hands, convinced there was still blood on them even when the last traces of it were actually long gone.
“Here, get this down you,” Sam handed him a glass of scotch and Gene took it gratefully, though his hands shook so much that he almost spilled it on the carpet.
Sam had surprised Gene tonight. There were no lectures about psychiatry or taking time of work like he’d expected. Mercifully, Sam was sparing him from all that bullshit and was giving him what he needed; loyalty, companionship. Gene hadn’t wanted to go home to a dark, empty house. The Missus was off in Spain with mates on holiday and he didn’t trust himself alone. So he’d let Sam take him back to his flat, relieved that he wouldn’t have to spent the night on his own, knowing nightmares would come once he drank himself to sleep.
“You can’t blame yourself. You know it would’ve have happened whoever fired that shot...you were just the unlucky one, is all,” Sam said, standing by Gene’s shoulder like some fucking angel.
Gene felt remorse every time he killed, however much the bastard might have deserved it. But when it was a true innocent who somehow got in the line of fire it was all that much worse and a lot harder to dismiss. It had happened less than a handful of times during his service but it never made it easier to accept that somethings just happened and there was sod all you could do about it.
Sometime later he was in bed with Sam, clinging onto his DI like he was a lifeline.
“Make me forget, Sam,” he slurrred, so drunk by this point that it wouldn’t be long before he passed out, but he fought against sleep with determination, fearing its arrival and the gaurteened bad dreams that would come with it.
Understanding, Sam started to touch him. Gene returned the touches, the kisses, and with each one the raw self-loathing would lessen, just a little.
Five
Gene had locked people up for shagging outdoors, but he felt no sense of shame as he gave Sam the fucking of his life in the alleyway behind Sullivan Road. Not even the threat of getting caught intimidated him...at any moment, anyone could look out of their upstairs window and see DCI Hunt slamming his DI up the arse against the dustbins, but, if anything, that only added to the excitement.
Even Sam was taking a rare walk on the wild side, seeming to enjoy the danger instead of listing all the reasons why they shouldn’t be there like Gene thought he’d do.
“Why can’t I keep my sodding hands off you for more than five bloody minutes?” Gene asked later, when they were back in the safety of the Cortina, clothes back on and returning to business as usual.
Sam just grinned. Reluctantly, Gene drove them back to work.