Fic: Blue Gene by angeweeks, Bluey/Brownish Cortina
Title: Blue Gene
Author: angeweeks
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1382
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Rating: Somewhere between Blue and Brown Cortina, I feel. No actual knocking of boots thereof, but suggestion, swear words and some smutty talk. Wahay!
Summary: Sam has a surprise for his DCI.
A/N: Could not sleep for this plot bunny whacking me round the head with a large bat. BAH. Not betaed, so let me know if there's any horrendous mistakes in there :D
Sam had realised as soon as he put on his normal tight jeans on Monday morning that he might very well live to regret his actions of Saturday afternoon. He was trying to slip surreptitiously into the office but on opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of Ray, Chris and the Guv stood by Ray's desk talking about football.
He groaned inwardly as he walked gingerly across to his desk, shoulders tensed as he waited for the inevitable remarks. Instead, the room assumed an eerie silence and he could feel three pairs of eyes watching him as he pulled out his chair and sat down. It was when he visibly winced on sitting that the first comment was made. Ray snorted and shouted over, “What's the matter Boss?! Bad curry or summat? I ain't seen anyone walk like that since John Wayne got off his horse.”
Sam ground out a thin smile in Ray's general direction and tried to carry on with some paperwork, but the unmistakeable sound of the Guv's voice carried over the short distance towards him.
“Still got that rod stuck up yer arse then, Gladys?”
Before his brain had a chance to register the fact, Sam's mouth opened of its own accord and he calmly replied, “I'm not sure Guv. Maybe you could help me take a look for it?”
All he saw was a blur of camel-hair surge towards him; he could only assume it was a passing tornado - a rather beige one, at that - as he found himself hiked onto his feet and propelled towards his DCI's office at an alarming speed. Ray smirked at Chris as Sam found himself thrown through the door, accompanied by Gene's instructions not to disturb them as he needed to set his DI straight on a few things - namely the end of his knuckles.
Sam winced again as he found himself slammed up against the filing cabinet. He couldn't help but let out an involuntary moan of pain, and said “Watch it will ya, my arse is killing me!”
Gene released his grip and moved back a couple of paces to look him in the eye. “I could see that, ya pouf, so I want to know what's caused it. It wasn't - er - it wasn't me on Friday night? -”
Sam stopped him mid-question. “Not in the way you mean. I would have thought you knew by now that when I ask you to go harder, I can take it.” He enjoyed watching the small blush creep over his DCI's face as his words sank in.
“So what the bloody hell is it, then? And what do you mean, not in the way I mean? Oh bloody hell now I sound like you. I'll be shitting dictionaries next.”
Sam looked him straight in the eye and couldn't help but smile as he responded, “Now don't get too excited, but you might want to lock your door just in case someone's stupid enough to ignore your last order.”
Gene did as he was told but still seemed able to complain about it via the medium of body language alone. “Come on now Gladys, the suspense is killing - “
As he turned back to face Sam, he was greeted by the sight of his DI turning his back to him and dropping his trousers. There was an audible sigh of relief from Sam as the constrictive material fell in a heap around his ankles. Then he proceeded to drop his underpants and lift up his shirt tail.
Gene swallowed as he felt a sudden rush of blood to the head; and not the one that usually did the thinking in work hours. The sight of that glorious pert arse in front of him was nearly enough to make him go over and bite it - hang on a bloody minute!
“Tyler. What the fuck is THAT? Why does your left arse cheek look like it's gone scabby?!”
Gene could hear the amusement in Sam's voice as he told his DCI to come closer and have a proper look. Gene bent down and peered at Sam's backside in amazement.
“What the fuck is it?”
“What the fuck does it look like?”
“I wish I bloody knew, Gladys. Whoever he is, he must be bloody cold, because he's gone blue. And he's wearing a fuckin' hat.”
“That's not a hat, you prat; it's a turban - OW, for fuck's sake” - Gene had taken a swipe at his arse and managed to swat both cheeks, “and what's underneath him?”
Gene moved in so close he could have kissed Sam's skin. Which he did; then pulled back and admired the view as he announced, “He looks like he's floating or summat. Where's his fuckin' legs?”
Sam sighed, “He's coming out of an oil lamp. So what does that mean, Guv?”
“Well fuck me. It's a genie.”
“And what did you say to me on Friday night when I asked if you wanted to come back to my place?”
Gene thought for a moment. He had sunk a few pints, but not enough that he wasn't fairly sober, as he had been expecting his usual Friday night invite from his luscious DI.
“I told you to - oh you clever bloody bastard - I told you to paint me blue and call me Eugene if it wasn't so. You daft sod.”
Sam turned around to face him and started to pull up his pants and trousers. He couldn't help but dart forward and kiss Gene on the nose before he started to rearrange his clothing. “I had that done for me. Well, for us I suppose. I went to the tattooist on Saturday afternoon and and gave him a description of what I wanted. And don't worry, because I'm not intending for anyone else who works in this station to get that good a look at my arse. That's just so we know that I'm yours.”
He could see the grin forming on Gene's face as he moved towards him. Sam found himself pinned up against the filing cabinet as his DCI leant forward to whisper in his ear. He found it hard to take in what Gene was saying as every warm breath across his earlobe was making his cock twitch and diverting his attention elsewhere. Gene leant into him bodily and said, “Well you must be able to feel my interest in this particular matter, DI Tyler. This is something I will have to investigate more fully at a later date.” Gene's cock was pressed up against Sam's hip and Sam swallowed hard as he felt his knees began to give.
“You're a very bad man, DI Tyler. I look forward to - how shall we say - meting out the proper punishment.” Sam nearly came in his trousers as his superior officer moved in for a kiss, then pulled back, rubbing his gloved hands in front of Sam's face. “You know how good these gloves feel across your bare arse. Would you like to feel them rubbing up and down your gorgeous cock?”
Sam could only squeak out a reply and saw the triumph cross Gene's face as he moved away from him and sat down at his desk. After leisurely adjusting himself so he could sit comfortably, he looked at Sam and said, “Well I'm glad you've got the message, Gladys. Now get that arse of yours - well, arse of mine, technically - back out into the department and get some fuckin' work done!”
Sam moved to the door and unlocked it, and as he started to push it open a soft velvety voice drifted towards him. “I'm going to be watching you all day, Sammy-boy. If I see the slightest hint that you can't walk properly I'll have you in Lost & Found so quickly yer pants will combust. And then I shall deal with you in my own sweet way.”
DI Tyler rolled his eyes heavenward. How the hell was he supposed to walk back to his desk normally now, with one arse cheek ablaze and his cock standing to attention?
He could hear Gene chuckling as he walked tentatively out of the door.
Author: angeweeks
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 1382
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Rating: Somewhere between Blue and Brown Cortina, I feel. No actual knocking of boots thereof, but suggestion, swear words and some smutty talk. Wahay!
Summary: Sam has a surprise for his DCI.
A/N: Could not sleep for this plot bunny whacking me round the head with a large bat. BAH. Not betaed, so let me know if there's any horrendous mistakes in there :D
Sam had realised as soon as he put on his normal tight jeans on Monday morning that he might very well live to regret his actions of Saturday afternoon. He was trying to slip surreptitiously into the office but on opening the door, he was greeted by the sight of Ray, Chris and the Guv stood by Ray's desk talking about football.
He groaned inwardly as he walked gingerly across to his desk, shoulders tensed as he waited for the inevitable remarks. Instead, the room assumed an eerie silence and he could feel three pairs of eyes watching him as he pulled out his chair and sat down. It was when he visibly winced on sitting that the first comment was made. Ray snorted and shouted over, “What's the matter Boss?! Bad curry or summat? I ain't seen anyone walk like that since John Wayne got off his horse.”
Sam ground out a thin smile in Ray's general direction and tried to carry on with some paperwork, but the unmistakeable sound of the Guv's voice carried over the short distance towards him.
“Still got that rod stuck up yer arse then, Gladys?”
Before his brain had a chance to register the fact, Sam's mouth opened of its own accord and he calmly replied, “I'm not sure Guv. Maybe you could help me take a look for it?”
All he saw was a blur of camel-hair surge towards him; he could only assume it was a passing tornado - a rather beige one, at that - as he found himself hiked onto his feet and propelled towards his DCI's office at an alarming speed. Ray smirked at Chris as Sam found himself thrown through the door, accompanied by Gene's instructions not to disturb them as he needed to set his DI straight on a few things - namely the end of his knuckles.
Sam winced again as he found himself slammed up against the filing cabinet. He couldn't help but let out an involuntary moan of pain, and said “Watch it will ya, my arse is killing me!”
Gene released his grip and moved back a couple of paces to look him in the eye. “I could see that, ya pouf, so I want to know what's caused it. It wasn't - er - it wasn't me on Friday night? -”
Sam stopped him mid-question. “Not in the way you mean. I would have thought you knew by now that when I ask you to go harder, I can take it.” He enjoyed watching the small blush creep over his DCI's face as his words sank in.
“So what the bloody hell is it, then? And what do you mean, not in the way I mean? Oh bloody hell now I sound like you. I'll be shitting dictionaries next.”
Sam looked him straight in the eye and couldn't help but smile as he responded, “Now don't get too excited, but you might want to lock your door just in case someone's stupid enough to ignore your last order.”
Gene did as he was told but still seemed able to complain about it via the medium of body language alone. “Come on now Gladys, the suspense is killing - “
As he turned back to face Sam, he was greeted by the sight of his DI turning his back to him and dropping his trousers. There was an audible sigh of relief from Sam as the constrictive material fell in a heap around his ankles. Then he proceeded to drop his underpants and lift up his shirt tail.
Gene swallowed as he felt a sudden rush of blood to the head; and not the one that usually did the thinking in work hours. The sight of that glorious pert arse in front of him was nearly enough to make him go over and bite it - hang on a bloody minute!
“Tyler. What the fuck is THAT? Why does your left arse cheek look like it's gone scabby?!”
Gene could hear the amusement in Sam's voice as he told his DCI to come closer and have a proper look. Gene bent down and peered at Sam's backside in amazement.
“What the fuck is it?”
“What the fuck does it look like?”
“I wish I bloody knew, Gladys. Whoever he is, he must be bloody cold, because he's gone blue. And he's wearing a fuckin' hat.”
“That's not a hat, you prat; it's a turban - OW, for fuck's sake” - Gene had taken a swipe at his arse and managed to swat both cheeks, “and what's underneath him?”
Gene moved in so close he could have kissed Sam's skin. Which he did; then pulled back and admired the view as he announced, “He looks like he's floating or summat. Where's his fuckin' legs?”
Sam sighed, “He's coming out of an oil lamp. So what does that mean, Guv?”
“Well fuck me. It's a genie.”
“And what did you say to me on Friday night when I asked if you wanted to come back to my place?”
Gene thought for a moment. He had sunk a few pints, but not enough that he wasn't fairly sober, as he had been expecting his usual Friday night invite from his luscious DI.
“I told you to - oh you clever bloody bastard - I told you to paint me blue and call me Eugene if it wasn't so. You daft sod.”
Sam turned around to face him and started to pull up his pants and trousers. He couldn't help but dart forward and kiss Gene on the nose before he started to rearrange his clothing. “I had that done for me. Well, for us I suppose. I went to the tattooist on Saturday afternoon and and gave him a description of what I wanted. And don't worry, because I'm not intending for anyone else who works in this station to get that good a look at my arse. That's just so we know that I'm yours.”
He could see the grin forming on Gene's face as he moved towards him. Sam found himself pinned up against the filing cabinet as his DCI leant forward to whisper in his ear. He found it hard to take in what Gene was saying as every warm breath across his earlobe was making his cock twitch and diverting his attention elsewhere. Gene leant into him bodily and said, “Well you must be able to feel my interest in this particular matter, DI Tyler. This is something I will have to investigate more fully at a later date.” Gene's cock was pressed up against Sam's hip and Sam swallowed hard as he felt his knees began to give.
“You're a very bad man, DI Tyler. I look forward to - how shall we say - meting out the proper punishment.” Sam nearly came in his trousers as his superior officer moved in for a kiss, then pulled back, rubbing his gloved hands in front of Sam's face. “You know how good these gloves feel across your bare arse. Would you like to feel them rubbing up and down your gorgeous cock?”
Sam could only squeak out a reply and saw the triumph cross Gene's face as he moved away from him and sat down at his desk. After leisurely adjusting himself so he could sit comfortably, he looked at Sam and said, “Well I'm glad you've got the message, Gladys. Now get that arse of yours - well, arse of mine, technically - back out into the department and get some fuckin' work done!”
Sam moved to the door and unlocked it, and as he started to push it open a soft velvety voice drifted towards him. “I'm going to be watching you all day, Sammy-boy. If I see the slightest hint that you can't walk properly I'll have you in Lost & Found so quickly yer pants will combust. And then I shall deal with you in my own sweet way.”
DI Tyler rolled his eyes heavenward. How the hell was he supposed to walk back to his desk normally now, with one arse cheek ablaze and his cock standing to attention?
He could hear Gene chuckling as he walked tentatively out of the door.