Kiss me Quick rating: Brown Cortina
Title: Kiss me Quick
Author: totallywow
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene, Sam/Ray
Disclaimer: erm.. not mine!
Summary: Sam can't and doesn't particularly want to give either of them up.
A/N: My first attempt at writing fic, well definitely LOM fic! So... here goes? I would really appreciate feedback.. especially if was terrible, eep! or if I made any mistakes. It was after a question from tatlovestea who was really amazing at encouraging, inspiring and helped me so much with this! about a few Sam/Ray fics and we got talking and I tried it out. It's more Sam/Gene, but has Sam/Ray. Sorry to all those who get squicked out by that!
Sam makes his way to the bar, getting another round of drinks in for him and Gene. Gene watches him go, the comfortable easy chatter and conversation temporarily halted. Gene smiles but oh so carefully- don’t want anyone seeing him grinning like a nutter to himself. Lights a cigarette and take a deep drag, the smoke curling and dancing up and away. Then Sam is back, by his side. Naturally. And smiling. He’s only getting used to seeing his DI smiling; it’s not something Sam does too often. Except with him. Gene discards his fag in the ashtray and downs a fair bit of his pint, Sam still looking at him, sipping his.
“Do you have to stare Gladys?”
“Yes.”
“There is nothing sexy about me drinking this.” Gene moves the pint in his hand, unimpressed by Sam making it so damn obvious what he thinking about.
“Oh, there is. I love it when you swallow.”
Gene feels his cheeks flush and is glad they’re sat out a little out the way, just the two of them. Darts his eyes to where he can see Chris talking and Ray taking the piss out of him.
“Sammy…”
Sam wriggles in his seat. “Time to go, maybe?” He begins to drink copious amounts speedily, eyes widening at Gene.
Gene grunts. “You might be right there, lad. Me first?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you there.”
Gene slams his drink down, the last dregs swimming at the bottom and grabs his coat.
“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then Gladys, tell your boyfriend not to keep you up all night. And the rest of you useless tossers, I’ll be expecting your brains and arses in gear for once” Gene roars as his stamps his way out, to the congregation of coppers that are drinking, talking, comfortable in the Arms, a noisy end to a fairly quiet day at the station. Sam rolls his eyes at Gene’s insult and sees a few of the men smirk. Oh, if only they knew exactly who was keeping me up all night, Sam thinks, drinking the last of his pint slowly.
Once the Guv had left Sam decided to hurry up, his pint well and truly finished, because there was someone he had to see before Gene. Someone he would never go home to or fall asleep with, or write a Valentines Day card for like he had this year (it was a dare but Gene kept it in his office often to recite loudly to everyone and embarrass him). Sam liked pushing the boundaries. Sometimes in his head, after everything, he wondered if this was real. And what would it take for one of these imaginary people to break? He dismissed the idea casually, but the fire that burnt through his body as he was shoved and kicked then kissed better by the brutal affections of a certain police officer was guaranteed to keep him coming back for more.
*
The worst thing about it is that Gene knows Sam is lying. Well, not lying. But he’s hiding his dirty little secret from him. He can pretend that it’s not happening, but not in his mind. Sam cut him keys for his flat a long time ago, once upon a time several drunken sleepovers ago, and they’ll leave the pub at separate times in separate ways. Gene is always first to go. Never knowing with Sam. Sometimes it’ll be ten minutes later; Sam will stroll through his door and smile at Gene, cheeky and full of lust. Hands at on his face, stroking, pulling at clothes, soft and teasing, fast and passionate until they’re naked under the duvets of his impossibly tiny bed, all lips and tongue and rocking and fucking and hard and wet, satisfied. Gene slips out of Sam and Sam kisses him gently and laughs warmly. Gene laughs too, breathless. Happy. Sam falls onto him, almost on his side but mostly on top of Gene, far too hot and needing to stretch but the safety and comfort of Gene’s arms are impossible to resist. Sometimes and this is the worst; Sam will be home an hour later than Gene is. Two hours. Tonight, he’s been away for nearly 3 goddamn hours. Gene hates Sam’s flat. It’s creepy, he thinks. He’ll have a drink or four. A smoke. Maybe a shower. Get undressed. Too cold. TV isn’t working. Then Sam will open the door, meek and mild, his smile not as real. Gene watching the ceiling.. wondering why the fuck he’s still waiting for his DI to drag his skinny arse back home. Where is he? More importantly, who is he with?
A clattering and the door pushed open.
“Um. Sorry Guv…. No one left the pub till late.” Sam smiles at Gene and shrugs his jacket off, retrieves the nearly empty bottle of whisky by the side of the bed and begins to hunt for a glass.
“It’s 1am, Sammy.”
Sam pours a small measure.
“Want one?”
“No. I wanted you. But I’m not in the mood now.” Gene huffs. Sam isn’t drunk, the pub excuse is a truly pathetic lie. He wouldn’t be busying himself with a whisky if he’d been drinking all night, sat in the warmth and cosiness of a pub. Sam doesn’t even like half the team. He wouldn’t spend his precious hours sat doing nothing with the likes of Ray, Gene argues. Silently. He should give the stupid tosser what for. He doesn’t.
Sam discards the bottle, holds the drink in his hand. Black eyes staring at Gene; the deep brown colour hard to detect in the night. Trying to figure Gene out. Seeing him huff and pout and obviously argue with himself in the damp darkness of his horrid little flat, on his horrid little bed. Why doesn’t Gene scream at him? He can’t see Gene tolerating this shit with anyone else. Sam feels immensely guilty, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. He isn’t trying to break Gene; that’s the last thing in the entire world he would want. He cares for Gene, loves being with him, around him. And he can’t get enough of being on top of him, underneath him, kneeling in front of him. Gene’s long large body is laid out on Sam’s tiny bed, his shirt discarded but his vest remains on, arms crossed, unbuckled trouser-clad legs sprawled. You do not invite Gene Hunt back to your bed and leave him waiting on his own for three hours.
“Actually.. you’re right. It is late. We should sleep.” Sam is secretly relieved. He has been shagging for past two and a half hours, and if he can’t get it up… it would be embarrassing. He’d have some explaining to do. He undoes his shirt, chucks it off, begins to undress. Gene feels his anger dissolve slightly. Watches the purple shirt slide off Sammy and his tempting white skin looks even more tempting in the dark. The thought remains though, that someone else has had their grubby mitts all over that delicious body this evening. Gene narrows his eyes, props himself up a little and watches him. Sam senses the movement and he whips off his vest and catches Gene’s eye. Gene looks amazing, half angry, half horny, eyes wide and seeing and his mouth curled up irresistibly. Maybe he won’t have any problems after all. Sam smirks, the little bastard and begins to slow down, unbuckling his belt. Slowly. Peeling his tight trousers off seductively.
“Not in the mood, hmm?” That voice, suddenly thick and rich and sexy. Trousers, boots, sock, pants are gone and a naked Sam is suddenly very much over Gene, clever fingers demanding a response as he strokes Gene’s unfolding arms.
“Nah. And I’ll bet you’re very tired, Tyler,” Gene is snappy, shoving Sam slightly who lands on his arse, on the tiny bit of bed left as Gene moves, sitting up, pulling his vest off, unbuckling his belt and undoing his trousers himself.
“What does that mean?”
“You weren’t out by yerself till 1o’bastard clock. Who were you with?”
Gene looks back at Sam angrily but turns around just as fast, not wanting to see the truth in Sam’s eyes. His trousers are shoved off, thrown to floor. Might as well take the rest off, he thinks. He knows Sam has been with someone else. He knows that Sam is seeing someone else… a voice asks him, why the hell have you just took all your clothes off to sleep next to him then, Gene? Why indeed. Fuck.
“Oh piss off.” Now Sam sounds snappy. His voice taken on a cruel, irritated tone as he turns his back to Gene, getting under the covers. Gene looks at Sam as his makes himself comfortable, his tiny yet appealing body half exposed as the duvet hangs limply around his waist. Go, leave, before you get hurt. That voice again. I’m not going to get hurt, it’s not like we’re gonna get married. Gene answers silently. First sign of madness, talking to yourself, he thinks. Gene gets comfortable, wriggling his way under. Sam doesn’t move. Gene doesn’t care. It’s bad enough he’s so close to the intoxicating, cheating, sexy, smug fucking gorgeous bastard tosser. He closes his eyes. He’s drowning in his mind, voices and images of Sam sucking some dirty queer’s dick in a seedy alleyway or getting fucked by another burly bloke. Sam is breathing next to him, back now covered as Gene pulls up the duvet and he’s not listening, he’s not listening.
He wasn’t meant to feel like this. It was an extension of their partnership, in every way. After the pub, they went to Sam’s. Instead of bickering, they kissed. It had felt natural and so easy. Gene didn’t feel the effects of his wife leaving because he never saw her anyway. Sam made him feel things again that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not love. But things that come with love: the need to be around someone as much as possible, the magic of breaking-up and making-up (not that they ever truly broke up). They had never made commitments to each other. It was just the routine they were now both accustomed to and were happy with, or so Gene thought. Work, pub, Sam’s place. Gene had assumed it was more than fucking - a bond, just maybe, a relationship - but Sam was clearly shagging someone else. Keeping it a secret. And that thought, that fucking fact, made Gene very, very pissed off.
*
Sam wasn’t messing Gene about. He loved Gene. He didn’t want to marry Gene, he didn’t want to have a family with him, live with him or replace Gene’s wife despite the fact Gene claims him and the (ex) Missus hardly ever spoke, definitely never shagged and then she just upped and left him, leaving him a note with not so much as a handful of sentences on, the bitch. But he definitely felt love for him. Gene made him laugh, made his heart beat and often made him scream in pleasure and pain. But recently Sam had felt the need to look for more. So what? They weren’t exclusive. He wanted something - someone - different. He knew Gene would be annoyed if he told him; he’d feel less important, like he wasn’t special and interesting and exciting anymore. He was, but Sam wanted everything and something and nothing all at once and he wasn’t settling down for anybody, just yet. He’d felt more… mischievous lately. That was the only word to describe it. He felt the giggles bubble up inside, a grin breaking out. Yep, he felt mischievous and all the things that go with it. He felt brilliant actually.
“Having fun, DI Tyler?” A grumpy but gorgeous Gene sneered at him over his desk.
Realising he was grinning like an escaped lunatic at nothing in particular, Sam toned down his smile and nodded. Back to paperwork.
Gene stalked off. Why did he tolerate Gladys and his crazy ways?
Because he makes you feel warm and happy and loved?
Because he’s actually the best copper on your team?
Because he’s an out-of-this-world, amazing, where’ve-you-been-all-my-life fucking fantastic cocksucker?
Gene was talking to himself again, at least internally. A regular occurrence, these days.
*
Sam watched Gene leave. Gene spoke to him meaningfully: “Good night Dorothy, better be off yourself, get some much needed beauty kip” in a brash, bold tone, the others nearby typically smirking at Gene’s regular goodnight insult. Gene gave a hearty slap to Sam’s left shoulder, his eyes a dark green in the pub light, glittering as he rose and left noisily. Sam lifted his pint to his lips, downed the last mouthful. Made eyes at Ray. Meaningfully. “Night” he offered to no one in particular, and made his way to the men’s toilets. Checked his watch. How long could he get away with this time? Not long, he thought. Gene was mad the other night, didn’t even touch him. He was messing Gene about too much and that’s not what he had intended at all. Oh well, he was horny, it wouldn’t take long. He grinned. Giggled, couldn’t help it. Ray burst through to find him laughing to himself and made a face.
“Just ‘ad a look in the mirror ‘av you, Tyler?”
Sam caught himself in time, before he lost it altogether, and looked Ray in the eyes.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“Or what?” Ray’s reply was challenging. He stepped close, right in Sam’s face. Sam shoved him but Ray was ready, big hands flying out and gripping Sam’s wrists painfully, shoving him hard into the wall of the nearest cubicle. Sam grimaced, moaned in pain or maybe it was pleasure, wriggled.
Ray breathed right in his ear, grip still painful but stroking Sam’s delicate skin in small circles. “Beg.”
Sam squirmed. “Just hurry up. I haven’t got time for games tonight and neither have you.”
Ray let Sam’s small, bony wrists fall and threw him against the toilet, Sam blindly gripping onto the top of it, trying to gain some purchase so he didn’t fall on his arse. He kicked Ray hard with his heel in Ray’s thigh. Ray hissed, stumbled ever so slightly.
“Oh, you bastard. You better get busy and show me just ‘ow fucking sorry you are fer that.”
Ray locked the door and pressed himself against Sam, kissing his neck, licking and nipping. Sam let him, arching up and stretching his neck, sighing contently and letting Ray hold him up as he holds onto his upper arms, Ray’s hands up and down his ribcage and back. Feels the nips get more vicious.
“Don’t you dare bite.”
“Wanna mark you”
“Noooooo” Sam moans as Ray keeps one hand on his back holding him upwards and the other on Sam’s belly, warm and big and feeling all of Sam, as much as he can, rushing to the finish line.
“Can’t”, Sam breathes, “Gene?”
Ray slams him, his hand on Sam’s back suddenly snatched away and the other slamming Sam against the wall, the toilet. Sam coughs violently and regains his composure spitting at Ray furiously, hitting his cheek. Ray screws his face up, wiping his sleeve across it. Grins cruelly at Sam. Sam laughs. This is so fucked up. Ray laughs too.
“What the fuck are we doing?” Sam asks, panting heavily. ”I hate you.” He grins.
“Hate you too, Boss. And you’ve got some making up to do, that kick bloody well hurt. It’ll bruise.”
“And my back, neck, wrists won’t?” Ray licks his lips.
There was no time for stripping, Sam had a Gene to get home to, a Gene was who sick of tolerating his late nights and useless explanations. I don’t need to answer to anyone, Sam thought, as Ray’s lips and tongue left his own and the older man unzipped his fly, pulling his cock out, stroking himself hard and fast, his head lolling back and a dirty smile on his face. Sam smiled back, leaning against the toilet, pushed himself off and fell onto his knees clumsily. Taking Ray in his hand, stroking him quickly just like Ray had done to himself.
“Guv will beat you if you’re late again, Tyler, and we’ve been pissing about for too long already. Wanna get a move on, mate.”
“And they say romance is dead…” Sam murmurs, tongue out, licking Ray’s now semi-erect cock, tonguing the head, swirling around Ray in his mouth.
“Do they?” Ray’s breath hitches slightly, he gasps as Sam takes him in properly. “Who gives a fuck about romance anyway.”
Sam smiles around his mouth, groaning, sending vibrations that make Ray moan too. He grips Sam’s head, fucks him hard. Never in a million years did Ray think about the Boss in this way - but, it worked for both of them. Sam wants something more than whatever it is that Gene is giving him… Ray just takes what he can get. He personally thinks Sam is a greedy bastard, with Gene at his place every night, why would he want him too? He doesn’t understand. Not like they fancy each other. Or even like each other that much. Ray grudgingly admits Sam is a good shag and he thinks, smugly, that he must be too, for Sam to leave the Guv waiting and come to him.
Sam Tyler has issues. He wants Ray because it makes his head spin, because it’s different and well, because he can. Sam Tyler…. is just a dirty little tart, Ray thinks. He tells Sam that. “You dirty boy,” he growls and thrusts harder into Sam’s mouth, his throat, Sam moans in agreement, sucking eagerly, hands gripping Ray’s hips not to slow him down but to keep him up. Ray is gasping and thrusting into Sam’s welcoming throat and God, he can’t hold on anymore, has been thinking about fucking Sam all day. He lets go and comes hard in Sam’s mouth, Sam obediently swallowing. He lets Ray’s softening cock fall from his mouth, licking Ray and his lips clean.
“My turn.” He scrambles up, cock half hard in his jeans.
“How do you manage all this shagging then, Tyler?”
“Why, you have trouble keeping it up?” Ray shuffles down Sam’s body, hands groping him, and slipping onto his knees more careful than Sam was. He unbuckles Sam’s belt.
“In your dreams. Do you shag him when you get in?” Ray unzips him, pushing pants to the side.
“Why do you want to know? You gonna go and wank about it later?” Ray pulls out Sam’s cock, looks up at his face, Sam’s brown eyes daring him, smile inviting.
“Do me a favour.” He begins to toss Sam off, get him nice and hard and ready.
Sam sighs, moans, thrusts into Ray’s hand. “Yeah, most of the time, unless I’m too late.”
“Tell you off, does he? Spanks your arse?” Ray increases the speed.
Sam whimpers. “I wish. Hurry up.”
“You want a good smack? I’d be more than happy to, ya know that. Can’t think of anything better….. you on all fours for me, naked and all spread open as I put you in your place. Know where that is, Tyler?”
Sam groans, Ray’s hands still stroking him, he’s going to fucking come if Ray talks like that about that.
“Take a look at yourself Ray; tell me where you are right now.” Sam’s voice is tense and needy. Ray ignores him.
“Oh, for fucks sake, just hurry UP…… I can’t hold out.” Sam moans desperately.
Ray takes pity on him, chuckling low and takes him in whole. He’s fast and quick and doesn’t complain when Sam grips his hair tight, pulls him, fucks him hard. It’s always rough, bit of violence thrown in. Ray doesn’t know or care what that says about them. He loves it when the kinky side in Sam comes out and he lets him take control. Sam is mewling and making soft, soft noises and he finally comes, thick and hard in Ray’s mouth.
“You wanted that, didn’t yer” Ray murmurs, wiping his mouth with his hand.
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I wanted you though.” Sam tucks himself away.
“No, maybe not. You might go home to ‘im but you come to me first.” Ray stands up, unlocking the door and making his way to the sink, smoothing himself out.
“Well. I fall asleep in his arms.” Ray turns quickly and studies him. Sam looks younger than he’s ever seen him before. He nods. Sam leaves.
*
“Ah, Sammy-boy. See, this is what I like. You coming home early enough… so I can do this” Sam has barely stepped through the door. Gene can smell aftershave on him, not his and Sam doesn’t wear it. He doesn’t care. He kisses him. “And this”, strokes and licks Sam’s neck, Sam compliant in his arms, peeling his jacket away, undoing buttons of his shirt. Gene steps back. Smiles. Sam isn’t his. He can deal with it. Sam fucks about. Sammy comes home to him.
“Move in with me. My place.” He says against Sam’s skin.
Sam’s eyes widen and he gasps, mouth slightly open. His head falls forward, eyes darting.
“That’s…… unexpected.”
Gene moves in, hands around Sam’s small waist, stroking him. “You can still see him”, he whispers, “whoever the bastard is.” A pause. Sam stills in his Gene’s arms. Gene brings his hands down, creating a distance between them slightly, finishing undressing Sam from the waist up. “I don’t mind.” Sam just looks at him, deliberately keeping his face blank in case Gene is trying to catch him out. Gene looks back.
“As long as you’re in my bed come morning.” Gene’s eyes, his face that are often so hard to read are completely open. Soft, Sam thinks. Gene knows Sam is keeping secrets to protect him. After all, neither of them said it was serious. Gene likes to think the smiles and cuddles and kisses and secret touches in public, the sweet nothings Sam whispers when he thinks Gene is asleep all mean more than sex.
Sam nods. “I’ll always come home to you.”
Gene kisses his forehead. “Mmm. Better do, Gladys.”
“You really don’t mind?”
Gene lies down on the bed, sighs. “I’d rather you weren’t going to ‘im. But I’m not gonna tell you to stop seein’ him. Just….” He reaches out for Sam’s hand. Sam reaches back. Holds him. Gene smiles and Sam sits down beside him.
“You can….. if you’re horny and I’m not about then, seems fair, really…” Sam offers, suddenly nervous as he acknowledges the Other Bloke. He wonders what Gene would says if he knew who Sam was secretly having it off with in alleyways and so very occasionally Ray’s flat and grotty public toilets.
“Yeah. Just one thing, Tyler….. do I.. know ‘im?”
Sam bites his bottomlip, holding Gene’s hand, avoiding his eyes still.
“That a yes, then.”
“When shall I move in?”
“Thought you loved talking Sammy. Not so keen now.”
“And I thought you said you was ok with this, Gene. How is this gonna work if you’re always on at me about it?”
Gene pulled Sam down for a kiss. “Alright,” he whispered, “I’ve forgotten. You can make it up to me though, if you like.” He wiggles his eyebrows, licking his lips at Sam. Sam understands this. He grins back.
Maybe it’ll drive him crazy, when Sam’s off doing what he does with this random bloke, and Gene won’t be able to cope. But what with work, shagging and now living with Tyler, he needed some time away from him. Or else he’d go as crazy. Gene smiles as Sammy works his way down, kissing and tasting flesh, looking up. Oh, he knows what he’s doing alright, Gene thinks. He wonders if he could get Sam to tell him exactly who he’s sneaking off with. Gene’s cock hardens not just at the feel of Sam’s hands but at the thought of Sam doing this with someone else, the jealously wearing off and being replaced with lust. Maybe he could get Sam to describe his encounters in detail as Sam tosses him off. Or he’ll cop off with Cartwright and tell Sam in vivid details what she’s like in throes of passion. Oh, they could have so much fun, Gene grins and Sam laughs very quietly. Gene looks down, and a true feeling of happiness and affection bubbles somewhere in his stomach and Sam continues to taste and lick and hold Gene tightly. Sam wouldn’t always be by his side and he wouldn’t always be by Sam’s, but they both know where they belong.
Author: totallywow
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene, Sam/Ray
Disclaimer: erm.. not mine!
Summary: Sam can't and doesn't particularly want to give either of them up.
A/N: My first attempt at writing fic, well definitely LOM fic! So... here goes? I would really appreciate feedback.. especially if was terrible, eep! or if I made any mistakes. It was after a question from tatlovestea who was really amazing at encouraging, inspiring and helped me so much with this! about a few Sam/Ray fics and we got talking and I tried it out. It's more Sam/Gene, but has Sam/Ray. Sorry to all those who get squicked out by that!
Sam makes his way to the bar, getting another round of drinks in for him and Gene. Gene watches him go, the comfortable easy chatter and conversation temporarily halted. Gene smiles but oh so carefully- don’t want anyone seeing him grinning like a nutter to himself. Lights a cigarette and take a deep drag, the smoke curling and dancing up and away. Then Sam is back, by his side. Naturally. And smiling. He’s only getting used to seeing his DI smiling; it’s not something Sam does too often. Except with him. Gene discards his fag in the ashtray and downs a fair bit of his pint, Sam still looking at him, sipping his.
“Do you have to stare Gladys?”
“Yes.”
“There is nothing sexy about me drinking this.” Gene moves the pint in his hand, unimpressed by Sam making it so damn obvious what he thinking about.
“Oh, there is. I love it when you swallow.”
Gene feels his cheeks flush and is glad they’re sat out a little out the way, just the two of them. Darts his eyes to where he can see Chris talking and Ray taking the piss out of him.
“Sammy…”
Sam wriggles in his seat. “Time to go, maybe?” He begins to drink copious amounts speedily, eyes widening at Gene.
Gene grunts. “You might be right there, lad. Me first?”
“Yeah. I’ll see you there.”
Gene slams his drink down, the last dregs swimming at the bottom and grabs his coat.
“I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then Gladys, tell your boyfriend not to keep you up all night. And the rest of you useless tossers, I’ll be expecting your brains and arses in gear for once” Gene roars as his stamps his way out, to the congregation of coppers that are drinking, talking, comfortable in the Arms, a noisy end to a fairly quiet day at the station. Sam rolls his eyes at Gene’s insult and sees a few of the men smirk. Oh, if only they knew exactly who was keeping me up all night, Sam thinks, drinking the last of his pint slowly.
Once the Guv had left Sam decided to hurry up, his pint well and truly finished, because there was someone he had to see before Gene. Someone he would never go home to or fall asleep with, or write a Valentines Day card for like he had this year (it was a dare but Gene kept it in his office often to recite loudly to everyone and embarrass him). Sam liked pushing the boundaries. Sometimes in his head, after everything, he wondered if this was real. And what would it take for one of these imaginary people to break? He dismissed the idea casually, but the fire that burnt through his body as he was shoved and kicked then kissed better by the brutal affections of a certain police officer was guaranteed to keep him coming back for more.
*
The worst thing about it is that Gene knows Sam is lying. Well, not lying. But he’s hiding his dirty little secret from him. He can pretend that it’s not happening, but not in his mind. Sam cut him keys for his flat a long time ago, once upon a time several drunken sleepovers ago, and they’ll leave the pub at separate times in separate ways. Gene is always first to go. Never knowing with Sam. Sometimes it’ll be ten minutes later; Sam will stroll through his door and smile at Gene, cheeky and full of lust. Hands at on his face, stroking, pulling at clothes, soft and teasing, fast and passionate until they’re naked under the duvets of his impossibly tiny bed, all lips and tongue and rocking and fucking and hard and wet, satisfied. Gene slips out of Sam and Sam kisses him gently and laughs warmly. Gene laughs too, breathless. Happy. Sam falls onto him, almost on his side but mostly on top of Gene, far too hot and needing to stretch but the safety and comfort of Gene’s arms are impossible to resist. Sometimes and this is the worst; Sam will be home an hour later than Gene is. Two hours. Tonight, he’s been away for nearly 3 goddamn hours. Gene hates Sam’s flat. It’s creepy, he thinks. He’ll have a drink or four. A smoke. Maybe a shower. Get undressed. Too cold. TV isn’t working. Then Sam will open the door, meek and mild, his smile not as real. Gene watching the ceiling.. wondering why the fuck he’s still waiting for his DI to drag his skinny arse back home. Where is he? More importantly, who is he with?
A clattering and the door pushed open.
“Um. Sorry Guv…. No one left the pub till late.” Sam smiles at Gene and shrugs his jacket off, retrieves the nearly empty bottle of whisky by the side of the bed and begins to hunt for a glass.
“It’s 1am, Sammy.”
Sam pours a small measure.
“Want one?”
“No. I wanted you. But I’m not in the mood now.” Gene huffs. Sam isn’t drunk, the pub excuse is a truly pathetic lie. He wouldn’t be busying himself with a whisky if he’d been drinking all night, sat in the warmth and cosiness of a pub. Sam doesn’t even like half the team. He wouldn’t spend his precious hours sat doing nothing with the likes of Ray, Gene argues. Silently. He should give the stupid tosser what for. He doesn’t.
Sam discards the bottle, holds the drink in his hand. Black eyes staring at Gene; the deep brown colour hard to detect in the night. Trying to figure Gene out. Seeing him huff and pout and obviously argue with himself in the damp darkness of his horrid little flat, on his horrid little bed. Why doesn’t Gene scream at him? He can’t see Gene tolerating this shit with anyone else. Sam feels immensely guilty, but it disappears as quickly as it comes. He isn’t trying to break Gene; that’s the last thing in the entire world he would want. He cares for Gene, loves being with him, around him. And he can’t get enough of being on top of him, underneath him, kneeling in front of him. Gene’s long large body is laid out on Sam’s tiny bed, his shirt discarded but his vest remains on, arms crossed, unbuckled trouser-clad legs sprawled. You do not invite Gene Hunt back to your bed and leave him waiting on his own for three hours.
“Actually.. you’re right. It is late. We should sleep.” Sam is secretly relieved. He has been shagging for past two and a half hours, and if he can’t get it up… it would be embarrassing. He’d have some explaining to do. He undoes his shirt, chucks it off, begins to undress. Gene feels his anger dissolve slightly. Watches the purple shirt slide off Sammy and his tempting white skin looks even more tempting in the dark. The thought remains though, that someone else has had their grubby mitts all over that delicious body this evening. Gene narrows his eyes, props himself up a little and watches him. Sam senses the movement and he whips off his vest and catches Gene’s eye. Gene looks amazing, half angry, half horny, eyes wide and seeing and his mouth curled up irresistibly. Maybe he won’t have any problems after all. Sam smirks, the little bastard and begins to slow down, unbuckling his belt. Slowly. Peeling his tight trousers off seductively.
“Not in the mood, hmm?” That voice, suddenly thick and rich and sexy. Trousers, boots, sock, pants are gone and a naked Sam is suddenly very much over Gene, clever fingers demanding a response as he strokes Gene’s unfolding arms.
“Nah. And I’ll bet you’re very tired, Tyler,” Gene is snappy, shoving Sam slightly who lands on his arse, on the tiny bit of bed left as Gene moves, sitting up, pulling his vest off, unbuckling his belt and undoing his trousers himself.
“What does that mean?”
“You weren’t out by yerself till 1o’bastard clock. Who were you with?”
Gene looks back at Sam angrily but turns around just as fast, not wanting to see the truth in Sam’s eyes. His trousers are shoved off, thrown to floor. Might as well take the rest off, he thinks. He knows Sam has been with someone else. He knows that Sam is seeing someone else… a voice asks him, why the hell have you just took all your clothes off to sleep next to him then, Gene? Why indeed. Fuck.
“Oh piss off.” Now Sam sounds snappy. His voice taken on a cruel, irritated tone as he turns his back to Gene, getting under the covers. Gene looks at Sam as his makes himself comfortable, his tiny yet appealing body half exposed as the duvet hangs limply around his waist. Go, leave, before you get hurt. That voice again. I’m not going to get hurt, it’s not like we’re gonna get married. Gene answers silently. First sign of madness, talking to yourself, he thinks. Gene gets comfortable, wriggling his way under. Sam doesn’t move. Gene doesn’t care. It’s bad enough he’s so close to the intoxicating, cheating, sexy, smug fucking gorgeous bastard tosser. He closes his eyes. He’s drowning in his mind, voices and images of Sam sucking some dirty queer’s dick in a seedy alleyway or getting fucked by another burly bloke. Sam is breathing next to him, back now covered as Gene pulls up the duvet and he’s not listening, he’s not listening.
He wasn’t meant to feel like this. It was an extension of their partnership, in every way. After the pub, they went to Sam’s. Instead of bickering, they kissed. It had felt natural and so easy. Gene didn’t feel the effects of his wife leaving because he never saw her anyway. Sam made him feel things again that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not love. But things that come with love: the need to be around someone as much as possible, the magic of breaking-up and making-up (not that they ever truly broke up). They had never made commitments to each other. It was just the routine they were now both accustomed to and were happy with, or so Gene thought. Work, pub, Sam’s place. Gene had assumed it was more than fucking - a bond, just maybe, a relationship - but Sam was clearly shagging someone else. Keeping it a secret. And that thought, that fucking fact, made Gene very, very pissed off.
*
Sam wasn’t messing Gene about. He loved Gene. He didn’t want to marry Gene, he didn’t want to have a family with him, live with him or replace Gene’s wife despite the fact Gene claims him and the (ex) Missus hardly ever spoke, definitely never shagged and then she just upped and left him, leaving him a note with not so much as a handful of sentences on, the bitch. But he definitely felt love for him. Gene made him laugh, made his heart beat and often made him scream in pleasure and pain. But recently Sam had felt the need to look for more. So what? They weren’t exclusive. He wanted something - someone - different. He knew Gene would be annoyed if he told him; he’d feel less important, like he wasn’t special and interesting and exciting anymore. He was, but Sam wanted everything and something and nothing all at once and he wasn’t settling down for anybody, just yet. He’d felt more… mischievous lately. That was the only word to describe it. He felt the giggles bubble up inside, a grin breaking out. Yep, he felt mischievous and all the things that go with it. He felt brilliant actually.
“Having fun, DI Tyler?” A grumpy but gorgeous Gene sneered at him over his desk.
Realising he was grinning like an escaped lunatic at nothing in particular, Sam toned down his smile and nodded. Back to paperwork.
Gene stalked off. Why did he tolerate Gladys and his crazy ways?
Because he makes you feel warm and happy and loved?
Because he’s actually the best copper on your team?
Because he’s an out-of-this-world, amazing, where’ve-you-been-all-my-life fucking fantastic cocksucker?
Gene was talking to himself again, at least internally. A regular occurrence, these days.
*
Sam watched Gene leave. Gene spoke to him meaningfully: “Good night Dorothy, better be off yourself, get some much needed beauty kip” in a brash, bold tone, the others nearby typically smirking at Gene’s regular goodnight insult. Gene gave a hearty slap to Sam’s left shoulder, his eyes a dark green in the pub light, glittering as he rose and left noisily. Sam lifted his pint to his lips, downed the last mouthful. Made eyes at Ray. Meaningfully. “Night” he offered to no one in particular, and made his way to the men’s toilets. Checked his watch. How long could he get away with this time? Not long, he thought. Gene was mad the other night, didn’t even touch him. He was messing Gene about too much and that’s not what he had intended at all. Oh well, he was horny, it wouldn’t take long. He grinned. Giggled, couldn’t help it. Ray burst through to find him laughing to himself and made a face.
“Just ‘ad a look in the mirror ‘av you, Tyler?”
Sam caught himself in time, before he lost it altogether, and looked Ray in the eyes.
“Shut up and fuck me.”
“Or what?” Ray’s reply was challenging. He stepped close, right in Sam’s face. Sam shoved him but Ray was ready, big hands flying out and gripping Sam’s wrists painfully, shoving him hard into the wall of the nearest cubicle. Sam grimaced, moaned in pain or maybe it was pleasure, wriggled.
Ray breathed right in his ear, grip still painful but stroking Sam’s delicate skin in small circles. “Beg.”
Sam squirmed. “Just hurry up. I haven’t got time for games tonight and neither have you.”
Ray let Sam’s small, bony wrists fall and threw him against the toilet, Sam blindly gripping onto the top of it, trying to gain some purchase so he didn’t fall on his arse. He kicked Ray hard with his heel in Ray’s thigh. Ray hissed, stumbled ever so slightly.
“Oh, you bastard. You better get busy and show me just ‘ow fucking sorry you are fer that.”
Ray locked the door and pressed himself against Sam, kissing his neck, licking and nipping. Sam let him, arching up and stretching his neck, sighing contently and letting Ray hold him up as he holds onto his upper arms, Ray’s hands up and down his ribcage and back. Feels the nips get more vicious.
“Don’t you dare bite.”
“Wanna mark you”
“Noooooo” Sam moans as Ray keeps one hand on his back holding him upwards and the other on Sam’s belly, warm and big and feeling all of Sam, as much as he can, rushing to the finish line.
“Can’t”, Sam breathes, “Gene?”
Ray slams him, his hand on Sam’s back suddenly snatched away and the other slamming Sam against the wall, the toilet. Sam coughs violently and regains his composure spitting at Ray furiously, hitting his cheek. Ray screws his face up, wiping his sleeve across it. Grins cruelly at Sam. Sam laughs. This is so fucked up. Ray laughs too.
“What the fuck are we doing?” Sam asks, panting heavily. ”I hate you.” He grins.
“Hate you too, Boss. And you’ve got some making up to do, that kick bloody well hurt. It’ll bruise.”
“And my back, neck, wrists won’t?” Ray licks his lips.
There was no time for stripping, Sam had a Gene to get home to, a Gene was who sick of tolerating his late nights and useless explanations. I don’t need to answer to anyone, Sam thought, as Ray’s lips and tongue left his own and the older man unzipped his fly, pulling his cock out, stroking himself hard and fast, his head lolling back and a dirty smile on his face. Sam smiled back, leaning against the toilet, pushed himself off and fell onto his knees clumsily. Taking Ray in his hand, stroking him quickly just like Ray had done to himself.
“Guv will beat you if you’re late again, Tyler, and we’ve been pissing about for too long already. Wanna get a move on, mate.”
“And they say romance is dead…” Sam murmurs, tongue out, licking Ray’s now semi-erect cock, tonguing the head, swirling around Ray in his mouth.
“Do they?” Ray’s breath hitches slightly, he gasps as Sam takes him in properly. “Who gives a fuck about romance anyway.”
Sam smiles around his mouth, groaning, sending vibrations that make Ray moan too. He grips Sam’s head, fucks him hard. Never in a million years did Ray think about the Boss in this way - but, it worked for both of them. Sam wants something more than whatever it is that Gene is giving him… Ray just takes what he can get. He personally thinks Sam is a greedy bastard, with Gene at his place every night, why would he want him too? He doesn’t understand. Not like they fancy each other. Or even like each other that much. Ray grudgingly admits Sam is a good shag and he thinks, smugly, that he must be too, for Sam to leave the Guv waiting and come to him.
Sam Tyler has issues. He wants Ray because it makes his head spin, because it’s different and well, because he can. Sam Tyler…. is just a dirty little tart, Ray thinks. He tells Sam that. “You dirty boy,” he growls and thrusts harder into Sam’s mouth, his throat, Sam moans in agreement, sucking eagerly, hands gripping Ray’s hips not to slow him down but to keep him up. Ray is gasping and thrusting into Sam’s welcoming throat and God, he can’t hold on anymore, has been thinking about fucking Sam all day. He lets go and comes hard in Sam’s mouth, Sam obediently swallowing. He lets Ray’s softening cock fall from his mouth, licking Ray and his lips clean.
“My turn.” He scrambles up, cock half hard in his jeans.
“How do you manage all this shagging then, Tyler?”
“Why, you have trouble keeping it up?” Ray shuffles down Sam’s body, hands groping him, and slipping onto his knees more careful than Sam was. He unbuckles Sam’s belt.
“In your dreams. Do you shag him when you get in?” Ray unzips him, pushing pants to the side.
“Why do you want to know? You gonna go and wank about it later?” Ray pulls out Sam’s cock, looks up at his face, Sam’s brown eyes daring him, smile inviting.
“Do me a favour.” He begins to toss Sam off, get him nice and hard and ready.
Sam sighs, moans, thrusts into Ray’s hand. “Yeah, most of the time, unless I’m too late.”
“Tell you off, does he? Spanks your arse?” Ray increases the speed.
Sam whimpers. “I wish. Hurry up.”
“You want a good smack? I’d be more than happy to, ya know that. Can’t think of anything better….. you on all fours for me, naked and all spread open as I put you in your place. Know where that is, Tyler?”
Sam groans, Ray’s hands still stroking him, he’s going to fucking come if Ray talks like that about that.
“Take a look at yourself Ray; tell me where you are right now.” Sam’s voice is tense and needy. Ray ignores him.
“Oh, for fucks sake, just hurry UP…… I can’t hold out.” Sam moans desperately.
Ray takes pity on him, chuckling low and takes him in whole. He’s fast and quick and doesn’t complain when Sam grips his hair tight, pulls him, fucks him hard. It’s always rough, bit of violence thrown in. Ray doesn’t know or care what that says about them. He loves it when the kinky side in Sam comes out and he lets him take control. Sam is mewling and making soft, soft noises and he finally comes, thick and hard in Ray’s mouth.
“You wanted that, didn’t yer” Ray murmurs, wiping his mouth with his hand.
“Yeah. Doesn’t mean I wanted you though.” Sam tucks himself away.
“No, maybe not. You might go home to ‘im but you come to me first.” Ray stands up, unlocking the door and making his way to the sink, smoothing himself out.
“Well. I fall asleep in his arms.” Ray turns quickly and studies him. Sam looks younger than he’s ever seen him before. He nods. Sam leaves.
*
“Ah, Sammy-boy. See, this is what I like. You coming home early enough… so I can do this” Sam has barely stepped through the door. Gene can smell aftershave on him, not his and Sam doesn’t wear it. He doesn’t care. He kisses him. “And this”, strokes and licks Sam’s neck, Sam compliant in his arms, peeling his jacket away, undoing buttons of his shirt. Gene steps back. Smiles. Sam isn’t his. He can deal with it. Sam fucks about. Sammy comes home to him.
“Move in with me. My place.” He says against Sam’s skin.
Sam’s eyes widen and he gasps, mouth slightly open. His head falls forward, eyes darting.
“That’s…… unexpected.”
Gene moves in, hands around Sam’s small waist, stroking him. “You can still see him”, he whispers, “whoever the bastard is.” A pause. Sam stills in his Gene’s arms. Gene brings his hands down, creating a distance between them slightly, finishing undressing Sam from the waist up. “I don’t mind.” Sam just looks at him, deliberately keeping his face blank in case Gene is trying to catch him out. Gene looks back.
“As long as you’re in my bed come morning.” Gene’s eyes, his face that are often so hard to read are completely open. Soft, Sam thinks. Gene knows Sam is keeping secrets to protect him. After all, neither of them said it was serious. Gene likes to think the smiles and cuddles and kisses and secret touches in public, the sweet nothings Sam whispers when he thinks Gene is asleep all mean more than sex.
Sam nods. “I’ll always come home to you.”
Gene kisses his forehead. “Mmm. Better do, Gladys.”
“You really don’t mind?”
Gene lies down on the bed, sighs. “I’d rather you weren’t going to ‘im. But I’m not gonna tell you to stop seein’ him. Just….” He reaches out for Sam’s hand. Sam reaches back. Holds him. Gene smiles and Sam sits down beside him.
“You can….. if you’re horny and I’m not about then, seems fair, really…” Sam offers, suddenly nervous as he acknowledges the Other Bloke. He wonders what Gene would says if he knew who Sam was secretly having it off with in alleyways and so very occasionally Ray’s flat and grotty public toilets.
“Yeah. Just one thing, Tyler….. do I.. know ‘im?”
Sam bites his bottomlip, holding Gene’s hand, avoiding his eyes still.
“That a yes, then.”
“When shall I move in?”
“Thought you loved talking Sammy. Not so keen now.”
“And I thought you said you was ok with this, Gene. How is this gonna work if you’re always on at me about it?”
Gene pulled Sam down for a kiss. “Alright,” he whispered, “I’ve forgotten. You can make it up to me though, if you like.” He wiggles his eyebrows, licking his lips at Sam. Sam understands this. He grins back.
Maybe it’ll drive him crazy, when Sam’s off doing what he does with this random bloke, and Gene won’t be able to cope. But what with work, shagging and now living with Tyler, he needed some time away from him. Or else he’d go as crazy. Gene smiles as Sammy works his way down, kissing and tasting flesh, looking up. Oh, he knows what he’s doing alright, Gene thinks. He wonders if he could get Sam to tell him exactly who he’s sneaking off with. Gene’s cock hardens not just at the feel of Sam’s hands but at the thought of Sam doing this with someone else, the jealously wearing off and being replaced with lust. Maybe he could get Sam to describe his encounters in detail as Sam tosses him off. Or he’ll cop off with Cartwright and tell Sam in vivid details what she’s like in throes of passion. Oh, they could have so much fun, Gene grins and Sam laughs very quietly. Gene looks down, and a true feeling of happiness and affection bubbles somewhere in his stomach and Sam continues to taste and lick and hold Gene tightly. Sam wouldn’t always be by his side and he wouldn’t always be by Sam’s, but they both know where they belong.