Clothes Challenge, by DorsetGirl
Title: Order of Business
Author: DorsetGirl
Fandom: Life on Mars
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or their universe. BBC/Kudos do. I’m not making any money out of this. The story's all mine though.
Rating: Guessing here - Blue Cortina for mild sexual / slashy references.
Word Count: 440
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Getting the order right is important.
Author’s Note: This is my first ever challenge, so please be gentle with me. I don’t know if the clothes count as “plot points” used like this; more like plot coupons. Not beta’d.
Order of Business
First, the shoes. Obviously
You don’t want to be kicking the little bastard to death when the grapplin’ gets a bit feverish.
And the socks.
‘Cos there’s nothing detracts from the line of what he calls “those seriously sexy thighs” leading up to yer manly arse than a pair of bloody socks drawing the eye back down again.
The belt next.
Hooking the thumbs in it for a bit first, ‘cos 'e likes that. Makes 'im breathe a bit faster, every time. Unbuckling with intent.
Then the trousers.
A zip’s a zip, but it’s the look that goes with it. Lookin’ at his zip, rising gently. Kissin’ him, just hard enough to make his hips do that thing they do. Right up against mine. Love it.
Leave the Y-fronts for now.
Keep the tackle safe, don’t want 'im goin’ too mad at this stage. Just thinkin’ of 'im really.
Jacket? Hours ago.
When 'e looked at me that way 'e does; gives me a hot flush all over.
And the tie.
Dunno, 'e just likes me neck. Touch the knot, stroke it a bit, and it’s ‘im with the hot flush. Spread me fingers wide, other ‘and on the slippy bit, and pull gently. If I want, I can make ‘im come with just that.
Shirt (green).
Rolled the sleeves up when the jacket come off. Watchin’ his eyes followin’ me fingers up me arms.
No vest.
Gave ‘em up. I like ‘im to see me nipples standin’ up for ‘im through the shirt, every time he gets close to me in the office. He thinks about ‘em all day, I can see his eyes, starin’.
Shirt (again).
Buttons, slowly. ‘S me fingers again. Thinkin’ what I’m going to do with ‘em later. Not much later at this rate. Open the front, let ‘im in close, my shirt round his back. Nothin’ like it. Breathin’ a bit faster meself now. Don’t always have time for the shirt.
Y-fronts.
‘E does those. Those slim girly fingers hookin’ in the sides and pullin’ gently. Left index finger, lift the front over me cock, always gives it a stroke an’ a little kiss. All the way down.
Then 'e stands and just - stares. Used to worry me, but 'e says it’s good, ‘e just likes to appreciate what 'e’s got. What 'e’s goin’ to get, ‘e means.
And then his clothes.
'E’s got quicker, give the lad that. Since I kept pullin’ all the buttons off his fancy shirts. Trousers, pants, never seen a man move so fast.
Never ‘ave worked out when ‘e does the socks.
Skin.
Mine. And his.