Circumstantial (NC-17) Alex/Gene
Title: Circumstantial
Characters: Alex/Gene
Rating: NC-17 (seriously, it's just porn)
Summary: Er, 'missing' scene from "Up the Workers," series 1, episode 4. This requires just a little suspension of belief as obviously, it can't have happened. Just, um, go with it.
Notes: Un-beta'd and written (mostly in about an hour) for darthsemicolon (and with much urging from purple_shoes). I hope it doesn't suck, girls!
"I know."
Gene felt her breath on his chin before he realized what she was going to do, and by the time he started to enjoy her kiss, she'd pulled away. That just wasn't on, and he fumbled for her in the dark, his fingertips dragging over silk and then smooth, damp skin. Alex murmured something, but it went below his hearing, so he kept reaching up until he met her hair, curls springy and wet under his fingers. He cupped her cheek under his palm and her head tilted up; this time he was ready when her lips met his.
He skirted his other hand down and over her hip, turning her toward him, and Alex responded immediately, hooking her leg over his and fitting herself snugly against him, half-astride his thigh. Where Gene had found it hard to breathe as soon as they'd been shut in the tiny, airless room, he'd gladly suffocate if Alex didn't think about backing off anytime soon.
To ensure this wasn't some fluke (or perhaps to prevent her from escaping), he wrapped an arm around her waist, skimming his fingertips over the sweat-slick skin exposed where her camisole had slid up. He felt gooseflesh raise on the arm she'd snaked around his neck and heard her moan someplace deep in her throat. That was all the encouragement he needed and he set nimble to fingers to unfastening the ridiculous contraption she'd wired herself into. Unfortunately, for all the times he'd dreamt of this, somehow the contrary thing just wasn't falling away like he'd imagined.
Alex was never content to lay idly by, and for once he was grateful. Still, even in the dark, he could tell she was smirking in that superior way she had. "Need a bit of help?" She reached up between her shoulder blades and wriggled around a bit (which didn't feel half bad), sighing in what was probably relief but sounded a whole lot like pleasure to Gene. Whatever little bit of him was still thinking this wasn't his best idea ever gave over completely with that little sound.
"Jus' didn't want to do all the work, Bolly," he said gruffly, amazed he was even able to form the necessary words. Hoping to distract her from further conversation, he slid his hands up her torso, palming her breasts. Gene dragged the back of one thumbnail over a peaked nipple, wishing to God he was able to see what she looked like, but rewarded all the same when she shivered. Leaning forward, he found her opposite breast with his mouth, using teeth and tongue to map out what he couldn't see.
Alex's impatient hands, meanwhile, were exploring just as thoroughly. She pushed her fingers through his hair, scratching her short, sharp nails over his neck and down his shoulder, ran one hand down his bicep and along his forearm, and finally slid one hand between them, undoing his belt one-handed, but stopping as soon as she'd done so.
Gene tensed all over, afraid she'd pull away, hug her arms to herself, stare accusingly at him in the dark. Instead, she just rocked closer and put her mouth against his ear. "How do you want me, Gene?"
Of all the things he'd had said to him during sex, of all the responses he'd elicited from partners over the years, that had been the only thing that had ever made his mouth go dry. He could have attributed it to the lack of fresh oxygen or the fact he was pouring enough sweat to drown in, but he knew it was down to the woman in his lap, turning her hips against him like she knew just what'd have him eating from the palm of her hand.
Unable to come up with a coherent response, he just turned his head, kissing her rough and hot and hard. Regaining the dexterity that had failed him earlier, he slid a hand between them and made short work of the button fly on her jeans, and wasted no time pushing aside her knickers, damp from sweat and, hopefully, his ministrations.
Alex cried out softly, arching her back and rising up onto her knees. Gene tugged her jeans down as far as they would go with his free hand, and pressed a pair of fingers into her. He choked back a gasp when he felt how hot and wet she already was - fuck, but this was going to be fantastic.
He didn't have long to contemplate his next move because Alex fisted his vest in both her her hands and dragged him roughly to her, resuming the kiss she'd just broken. They struggled together for control, teeth clashing and mouths wide open, as they half-laid, half-fell to the concrete. It was blissfully cool by comparison to the muggy air, but Gene knew it'd scratch the hell out of Alex's back, so he divested himself of his shirt and spread out as best he could beneath her as she finished the buttons on his trousers.
The remainder of their clothes fell away, and Gene felt cooler, but his blood was boiling so hot, he was amazed he didn't simply turn into vapor. He probably would have but for the long legs wrapped around his midsection and the welcoming groan as he sank into her, buried to the hilt and unable to move for a long moment; Alex, for all her high-flown talk and conjecture, was grounding him in reality.
They moved together quickly, roughly. Hands, tongues, lips, and teeth teased and tested, but their bodies set a frantic pace - everything with Alex, Gene came to know all too well, was a competition. Thankfully, this was one they could both win.
As soon as Alex began to move restlessly beneath him, panting and gasping and crying out all in quick succession, Gene reached between them and applied his hand to the apex of her thighs. She responded by drawing her knees up and digging her heels into his ass, and he sank even deeper into her as she came. She pressed her face against his neck, moaning loudly, and holding onto his arms so tightly, he guessed there'd be ten identical half-moons indented on his triceps for the next week.
When Alex's orgasm subsided, Gene guessed (hoped) he could manage a repeat performance, taking pride in the fact he hadn't tumbled over the edge straight after she had, but then she was kissing the side of his neck, his earlobe, mewling girlishly into his ear. He felt ludicrously like he was sixteen again, and when she whispered his name, he forgot all about pride and came apart.
They lay, panting and sweaty, tangled together in what otherwise would have been an awkward array on the dirty floor of a government building for a few long minutes, each listening more carefully to the other than either would ever have admitted. Neither wanted to be the first to pull away, but both knew they had to.
As it happened, both spoke at the same time.
"Gene..."
"Bolly..."
"You go ahead," Alex said, a little too primly, and Gene turned his head until he could almost make her out in the pitch dark. He guessed her mouth was drawn in a thin line, and he had a crazy urge to kiss her, just where those little brackets might someday start on the corners of her mouth. Instead, he moved gingerly off of her, and opened his mouth to speak. The only word he managed was, "I," and then there was a scraping at the door. The lock. "Bollocks," he swore, scrabbling on the floor for something. All he came up with was Alex's impractical lingerie, which he passed to her quickly.
He'd just managed to shrug into his shirt when the door swung open, revealing his very anxious-looking team.
"Bloody hell. It's Wonder Chris," Gene quipped as he herded them out. He barely caught Alex's eye as they went through the doorway, and even that was enough to know she'd never mention it again. Well, two could play that.
He lifted his chin and barreled onward, sure he could go on never talking about what had happened, but certain he'd never stop thinking of it.
Characters: Alex/Gene
Rating: NC-17 (seriously, it's just porn)
Summary: Er, 'missing' scene from "Up the Workers," series 1, episode 4. This requires just a little suspension of belief as obviously, it can't have happened. Just, um, go with it.
Notes: Un-beta'd and written (mostly in about an hour) for darthsemicolon (and with much urging from purple_shoes). I hope it doesn't suck, girls!
"I know."
Gene felt her breath on his chin before he realized what she was going to do, and by the time he started to enjoy her kiss, she'd pulled away. That just wasn't on, and he fumbled for her in the dark, his fingertips dragging over silk and then smooth, damp skin. Alex murmured something, but it went below his hearing, so he kept reaching up until he met her hair, curls springy and wet under his fingers. He cupped her cheek under his palm and her head tilted up; this time he was ready when her lips met his.
He skirted his other hand down and over her hip, turning her toward him, and Alex responded immediately, hooking her leg over his and fitting herself snugly against him, half-astride his thigh. Where Gene had found it hard to breathe as soon as they'd been shut in the tiny, airless room, he'd gladly suffocate if Alex didn't think about backing off anytime soon.
To ensure this wasn't some fluke (or perhaps to prevent her from escaping), he wrapped an arm around her waist, skimming his fingertips over the sweat-slick skin exposed where her camisole had slid up. He felt gooseflesh raise on the arm she'd snaked around his neck and heard her moan someplace deep in her throat. That was all the encouragement he needed and he set nimble to fingers to unfastening the ridiculous contraption she'd wired herself into. Unfortunately, for all the times he'd dreamt of this, somehow the contrary thing just wasn't falling away like he'd imagined.
Alex was never content to lay idly by, and for once he was grateful. Still, even in the dark, he could tell she was smirking in that superior way she had. "Need a bit of help?" She reached up between her shoulder blades and wriggled around a bit (which didn't feel half bad), sighing in what was probably relief but sounded a whole lot like pleasure to Gene. Whatever little bit of him was still thinking this wasn't his best idea ever gave over completely with that little sound.
"Jus' didn't want to do all the work, Bolly," he said gruffly, amazed he was even able to form the necessary words. Hoping to distract her from further conversation, he slid his hands up her torso, palming her breasts. Gene dragged the back of one thumbnail over a peaked nipple, wishing to God he was able to see what she looked like, but rewarded all the same when she shivered. Leaning forward, he found her opposite breast with his mouth, using teeth and tongue to map out what he couldn't see.
Alex's impatient hands, meanwhile, were exploring just as thoroughly. She pushed her fingers through his hair, scratching her short, sharp nails over his neck and down his shoulder, ran one hand down his bicep and along his forearm, and finally slid one hand between them, undoing his belt one-handed, but stopping as soon as she'd done so.
Gene tensed all over, afraid she'd pull away, hug her arms to herself, stare accusingly at him in the dark. Instead, she just rocked closer and put her mouth against his ear. "How do you want me, Gene?"
Of all the things he'd had said to him during sex, of all the responses he'd elicited from partners over the years, that had been the only thing that had ever made his mouth go dry. He could have attributed it to the lack of fresh oxygen or the fact he was pouring enough sweat to drown in, but he knew it was down to the woman in his lap, turning her hips against him like she knew just what'd have him eating from the palm of her hand.
Unable to come up with a coherent response, he just turned his head, kissing her rough and hot and hard. Regaining the dexterity that had failed him earlier, he slid a hand between them and made short work of the button fly on her jeans, and wasted no time pushing aside her knickers, damp from sweat and, hopefully, his ministrations.
Alex cried out softly, arching her back and rising up onto her knees. Gene tugged her jeans down as far as they would go with his free hand, and pressed a pair of fingers into her. He choked back a gasp when he felt how hot and wet she already was - fuck, but this was going to be fantastic.
He didn't have long to contemplate his next move because Alex fisted his vest in both her her hands and dragged him roughly to her, resuming the kiss she'd just broken. They struggled together for control, teeth clashing and mouths wide open, as they half-laid, half-fell to the concrete. It was blissfully cool by comparison to the muggy air, but Gene knew it'd scratch the hell out of Alex's back, so he divested himself of his shirt and spread out as best he could beneath her as she finished the buttons on his trousers.
The remainder of their clothes fell away, and Gene felt cooler, but his blood was boiling so hot, he was amazed he didn't simply turn into vapor. He probably would have but for the long legs wrapped around his midsection and the welcoming groan as he sank into her, buried to the hilt and unable to move for a long moment; Alex, for all her high-flown talk and conjecture, was grounding him in reality.
They moved together quickly, roughly. Hands, tongues, lips, and teeth teased and tested, but their bodies set a frantic pace - everything with Alex, Gene came to know all too well, was a competition. Thankfully, this was one they could both win.
As soon as Alex began to move restlessly beneath him, panting and gasping and crying out all in quick succession, Gene reached between them and applied his hand to the apex of her thighs. She responded by drawing her knees up and digging her heels into his ass, and he sank even deeper into her as she came. She pressed her face against his neck, moaning loudly, and holding onto his arms so tightly, he guessed there'd be ten identical half-moons indented on his triceps for the next week.
When Alex's orgasm subsided, Gene guessed (hoped) he could manage a repeat performance, taking pride in the fact he hadn't tumbled over the edge straight after she had, but then she was kissing the side of his neck, his earlobe, mewling girlishly into his ear. He felt ludicrously like he was sixteen again, and when she whispered his name, he forgot all about pride and came apart.
They lay, panting and sweaty, tangled together in what otherwise would have been an awkward array on the dirty floor of a government building for a few long minutes, each listening more carefully to the other than either would ever have admitted. Neither wanted to be the first to pull away, but both knew they had to.
As it happened, both spoke at the same time.
"Gene..."
"Bolly..."
"You go ahead," Alex said, a little too primly, and Gene turned his head until he could almost make her out in the pitch dark. He guessed her mouth was drawn in a thin line, and he had a crazy urge to kiss her, just where those little brackets might someday start on the corners of her mouth. Instead, he moved gingerly off of her, and opened his mouth to speak. The only word he managed was, "I," and then there was a scraping at the door. The lock. "Bollocks," he swore, scrabbling on the floor for something. All he came up with was Alex's impractical lingerie, which he passed to her quickly.
He'd just managed to shrug into his shirt when the door swung open, revealing his very anxious-looking team.
"Bloody hell. It's Wonder Chris," Gene quipped as he herded them out. He barely caught Alex's eye as they went through the doorway, and even that was enough to know she'd never mention it again. Well, two could play that.
He lifted his chin and barreled onward, sure he could go on never talking about what had happened, but certain he'd never stop thinking of it.