suneko
in
lifein1973
Fic - "Spunk"
Here is my first Life on Mars story. I am loving this show!! My story involves Gene and Sam...and a rattling air conditioner. Feedback welcome, enjoy!
Title: Spunk
Author: Suneko
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Rating: Brown Cortina
Disclaimer: No copywrite infringement intended.
Notes: Approximately 1500 words. Many thanks to my betas shanola and gritkitty - you rock!
SPUNK
Gene took another swig off the bottle of scotch by his bed, swishing the biting amber liquid in his mouth in lieu of brushing his teeth. He turned off the bedside lamp and stretched out. No light came through the window curtain and the rattling of the ancient air conditioner barely drowned out the loud snores his wife was making on the other side of the bed. She groggily greeted him when he first came home from the station, shortly after midnight. He grunted in her general direction on his way to the bathroom, loathing the idea of actually having a conversation, hearing the updates of her predictable day, the high price of beef, her mother’s bunions, the water heater leak. It was all too surreal after the harsh realities of his day at the police department. Fortunately she had fallen back asleep by the time he was ready for bed.
It had been a brutal hell of a day, even by Gene’s standards. They finally nicked serial rapist Vincent Holmes, who was safely stowed away in a jail cell tonight, somewhat bruised and battered, but well enough. Gene had been a tad out of control after he tackled Holmes, recalling the trauma on the faces of the bruised and battered young women so violently defiled. He reluctantly admitted to himself that if Sam hadn’t held him back, he might have done more damage then could be explained away as simply “resisting arrest.”
The snoring on the other side of the bed stopped as Gene’s wife rolled to her side. He briefly wondered if he should wake her up for a shag, but quickly discarded that idea. Things hadn’t been too exciting between them in that area lately, and he was sure she would be relieved to know that she had dodged that bullet tonight.
Gene’s thoughts drifted to a different woman in his life, WPC Annie Cartwright, the only female constable in his department. She risked her life today as an undercover waitress, allowing them to finally nab Holmes. Annie’s bravery always surprised and secretly impressed him. When the police department first hired Annie, a pretty young woman with soft brown hair, big blue eyes, and curves that wouldn’t quit, Gene had been royally pissed off. How could a girl, a young, bright-eyed girl like Annie, be an effective constable? She was too young, too soft, too...womanly. He had to admit that she handled her male colleagues’ insults and putdowns and Gene’s general dismissal of her skills with courage and spunk. Then DC Sam Tyler had arrived from Hyde Precinct, with his liberal views and influence over Annie. Despite Gov’s best efforts to keep her out of danger, she had been involved in far too many risky assignments lately. And looked damned good doing it, too.
Gene closed his eyes as the alcohol began to take effect. He felt a mild euphoria as the tension left his body and he could finally relax. He smiled as he remembered how Annie looked earlier tonight in the too-tight waitress frock, her luscious breasts straining against the fabric as she wrote up her report at the station. His body tensed again as he remembered the taste of fear in his mouth when he saw the rapist attacking Annie in the alley behind the diner, a knife tip pointed at her throat and her arm being twisted painfully behind her back as she was dragged away. It seemed like an eternity before Gene reached her as he ran after the struggling pair. He smiled again, grimly this time, recalling the satisfying crunch as his right fist landed on Vincent Holmes’ nose. Anger and revulsion had overwhelmed him as he shoved Holmes to the cobblestone street, battering the cringing man’s body with his hands and feet.
The next thing he remembered was Sam yelling in his face, holding him roughly against the brick wall of the alley while Ray and Chris cuffed the bloodied Holmes, read him his rights and stowed him into a squad car. Gene recalled the intense look in Sam’s eyes as he got in his face, urging him to calm down. Gene found himself almost nose to nose with Sam, gazing down into his intense hazel eyes, smelling his breath, feeling warm hands pressed against his shoulders, preventing him from doing something he would regret later. For a brief, lethargic moment he had a compelling urge to let Sam hold him this way a bit longer. The hazel eyes were intent on his, searching for signs of… what? Awareness hit Gene as he growled and flopped onto his stomach in bed. How the hell did he get from dreaming about Annie’s tits to thinking about Sam’s fuckin’ eyes?
Gene flipped back over and determinedly imagined finding Annie in the Lost and Found room, locking the door, coming up to nuzzle the back of her neck, reaching around to grab her breasts, she arching her back and grinding her buttocks into his loin. He started to swell as he fanaticized the “interrogation” with Annie, gently running his hand over his penis, careful not to make too much movement, conscious of his wife sleeping on the other side of the bed. In his mind’s eye, he directed her to slowly turn around and give him a long, languorous kiss. His hands skimmed the body in front of him; imagining the warm, firm skin, lean hard back and buttocks, hazel eyes now open and gazing intently into his.
He whipped his hand away from his throbbing penis. Sam. He was masturbating to a fantasy about Sam. Instead of jiggling soft breasts, he was imagining a lean, muscular chest under his hands, Sam kissing him, making him hard. Christ! Gene tried for a moment to bring back the Annie vision, but quickly resigned himself to the fact that something else was doing it for him tonight. Someone else. A man. Sam. Bloody hell.
Alone in his thoughts, virtually alone in his bed, he relaxed and put his hand back between his legs as he gave in to the fantasy. His stomach clenched pleasurably and he struggled to keep his breathing quiet and his movements small, which only prolonged the pleasure. The desire to finish this thing was incredibly strong in him, yet he was already regretting when it would be over. Sam was strong in his mind as he slowly and more firmly stroked and pulled his member, now envisioning Sam licking the head of his penis while rubbing his hands over the tops of Gene’s thighs and looked up at him with those remarkable mocking eyes. Gene imagined grabbing the sides of Sam’s face to guide his mouth up and down over his penis, going faster and deeper, while enjoying the feel of Sam’s head between his hands and the texture of his soft, short hair. Fantasy Sam slid his hands under Gene’s buttocks, and lifted him up into his mouth with each thrust hitting the back of his throat. Gene knew that the end was coming. “Ahhh…” Gene couldn’t help but groan deep in his throat as he came, shuddering with pleasure for several long, intense seconds.
His wife stirred on her side of the bed and mumbled something indecipherable as Gene took several slow deep breaths, grateful that she still slept. He was reluctant to lose the deep, dreamlike quality of his fantasy. Slowly reaching down to the floor by the bed he grabbed the first piece of clothing he felt and after wiping himself, tossed the shirt back to the floor. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to hold on to the forbidden feelings of drama and lust and pleasure, which were now starting to recede and give way to feelings of anger, self-loathing and disgust.
Fucking bloody Sam, thought Gene. This little episode must have been just a one-off. It was just a …manifestation … of his daily frustrations with Sam’s so-called modern detective methods. Even if some of Sam’s theories did provide results, Gene didn’t need the little prat showing him up in front of his men. Not after all these years of putting lowlife shite behind bars. Things were never simple now that Sam was on the squad. Bloody fuck. He needed to get some sleep. There had to be better ways to deal with Sam’s rubbish. Gene put his hands behind his head and smiled as he began plotting ways he could make Sam’s life miserable at the precinct tomorrow.
Title: Spunk
Author: Suneko
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Rating: Brown Cortina
Disclaimer: No copywrite infringement intended.
Notes: Approximately 1500 words. Many thanks to my betas shanola and gritkitty - you rock!
SPUNK
Gene took another swig off the bottle of scotch by his bed, swishing the biting amber liquid in his mouth in lieu of brushing his teeth. He turned off the bedside lamp and stretched out. No light came through the window curtain and the rattling of the ancient air conditioner barely drowned out the loud snores his wife was making on the other side of the bed. She groggily greeted him when he first came home from the station, shortly after midnight. He grunted in her general direction on his way to the bathroom, loathing the idea of actually having a conversation, hearing the updates of her predictable day, the high price of beef, her mother’s bunions, the water heater leak. It was all too surreal after the harsh realities of his day at the police department. Fortunately she had fallen back asleep by the time he was ready for bed.
It had been a brutal hell of a day, even by Gene’s standards. They finally nicked serial rapist Vincent Holmes, who was safely stowed away in a jail cell tonight, somewhat bruised and battered, but well enough. Gene had been a tad out of control after he tackled Holmes, recalling the trauma on the faces of the bruised and battered young women so violently defiled. He reluctantly admitted to himself that if Sam hadn’t held him back, he might have done more damage then could be explained away as simply “resisting arrest.”
The snoring on the other side of the bed stopped as Gene’s wife rolled to her side. He briefly wondered if he should wake her up for a shag, but quickly discarded that idea. Things hadn’t been too exciting between them in that area lately, and he was sure she would be relieved to know that she had dodged that bullet tonight.
Gene’s thoughts drifted to a different woman in his life, WPC Annie Cartwright, the only female constable in his department. She risked her life today as an undercover waitress, allowing them to finally nab Holmes. Annie’s bravery always surprised and secretly impressed him. When the police department first hired Annie, a pretty young woman with soft brown hair, big blue eyes, and curves that wouldn’t quit, Gene had been royally pissed off. How could a girl, a young, bright-eyed girl like Annie, be an effective constable? She was too young, too soft, too...womanly. He had to admit that she handled her male colleagues’ insults and putdowns and Gene’s general dismissal of her skills with courage and spunk. Then DC Sam Tyler had arrived from Hyde Precinct, with his liberal views and influence over Annie. Despite Gov’s best efforts to keep her out of danger, she had been involved in far too many risky assignments lately. And looked damned good doing it, too.
Gene closed his eyes as the alcohol began to take effect. He felt a mild euphoria as the tension left his body and he could finally relax. He smiled as he remembered how Annie looked earlier tonight in the too-tight waitress frock, her luscious breasts straining against the fabric as she wrote up her report at the station. His body tensed again as he remembered the taste of fear in his mouth when he saw the rapist attacking Annie in the alley behind the diner, a knife tip pointed at her throat and her arm being twisted painfully behind her back as she was dragged away. It seemed like an eternity before Gene reached her as he ran after the struggling pair. He smiled again, grimly this time, recalling the satisfying crunch as his right fist landed on Vincent Holmes’ nose. Anger and revulsion had overwhelmed him as he shoved Holmes to the cobblestone street, battering the cringing man’s body with his hands and feet.
The next thing he remembered was Sam yelling in his face, holding him roughly against the brick wall of the alley while Ray and Chris cuffed the bloodied Holmes, read him his rights and stowed him into a squad car. Gene recalled the intense look in Sam’s eyes as he got in his face, urging him to calm down. Gene found himself almost nose to nose with Sam, gazing down into his intense hazel eyes, smelling his breath, feeling warm hands pressed against his shoulders, preventing him from doing something he would regret later. For a brief, lethargic moment he had a compelling urge to let Sam hold him this way a bit longer. The hazel eyes were intent on his, searching for signs of… what? Awareness hit Gene as he growled and flopped onto his stomach in bed. How the hell did he get from dreaming about Annie’s tits to thinking about Sam’s fuckin’ eyes?
Gene flipped back over and determinedly imagined finding Annie in the Lost and Found room, locking the door, coming up to nuzzle the back of her neck, reaching around to grab her breasts, she arching her back and grinding her buttocks into his loin. He started to swell as he fanaticized the “interrogation” with Annie, gently running his hand over his penis, careful not to make too much movement, conscious of his wife sleeping on the other side of the bed. In his mind’s eye, he directed her to slowly turn around and give him a long, languorous kiss. His hands skimmed the body in front of him; imagining the warm, firm skin, lean hard back and buttocks, hazel eyes now open and gazing intently into his.
He whipped his hand away from his throbbing penis. Sam. He was masturbating to a fantasy about Sam. Instead of jiggling soft breasts, he was imagining a lean, muscular chest under his hands, Sam kissing him, making him hard. Christ! Gene tried for a moment to bring back the Annie vision, but quickly resigned himself to the fact that something else was doing it for him tonight. Someone else. A man. Sam. Bloody hell.
Alone in his thoughts, virtually alone in his bed, he relaxed and put his hand back between his legs as he gave in to the fantasy. His stomach clenched pleasurably and he struggled to keep his breathing quiet and his movements small, which only prolonged the pleasure. The desire to finish this thing was incredibly strong in him, yet he was already regretting when it would be over. Sam was strong in his mind as he slowly and more firmly stroked and pulled his member, now envisioning Sam licking the head of his penis while rubbing his hands over the tops of Gene’s thighs and looked up at him with those remarkable mocking eyes. Gene imagined grabbing the sides of Sam’s face to guide his mouth up and down over his penis, going faster and deeper, while enjoying the feel of Sam’s head between his hands and the texture of his soft, short hair. Fantasy Sam slid his hands under Gene’s buttocks, and lifted him up into his mouth with each thrust hitting the back of his throat. Gene knew that the end was coming. “Ahhh…” Gene couldn’t help but groan deep in his throat as he came, shuddering with pleasure for several long, intense seconds.
His wife stirred on her side of the bed and mumbled something indecipherable as Gene took several slow deep breaths, grateful that she still slept. He was reluctant to lose the deep, dreamlike quality of his fantasy. Slowly reaching down to the floor by the bed he grabbed the first piece of clothing he felt and after wiping himself, tossed the shirt back to the floor. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to hold on to the forbidden feelings of drama and lust and pleasure, which were now starting to recede and give way to feelings of anger, self-loathing and disgust.
Fucking bloody Sam, thought Gene. This little episode must have been just a one-off. It was just a …manifestation … of his daily frustrations with Sam’s so-called modern detective methods. Even if some of Sam’s theories did provide results, Gene didn’t need the little prat showing him up in front of his men. Not after all these years of putting lowlife shite behind bars. Things were never simple now that Sam was on the squad. Bloody fuck. He needed to get some sleep. There had to be better ways to deal with Sam’s rubbish. Gene put his hands behind his head and smiled as he began plotting ways he could make Sam’s life miserable at the precinct tomorrow.