Fic: Really bad eggs.
Title: Really bad eggs.
Author: Moi!
Spoilers: Both seasons
Rating: Brown Cortina
Word Count: 2920
Pairings: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam thinks he's so crash hot in the kitchen..just watch Gene go.
A/N: Still playing =P SMut is theraputic
Gene's fit to be tied and Sam still hasn't stopped laughing. A full ten minutes into his attempt at a romantic meal and Sam's got his fist wedged in his mouth, teeth sinking into knuckles just to dull the volume.
Bloody git. Teach a man to make an effort, won't it? Ok, so he can see Sam's point of view. He's covered in cooking oil, looks like he's had a run in with the creature from the black lagoon and can't remember exactly why he'd thought this'd be a good idea, but still...bloody sodding git.
"You don't 'ave to make it so damn obvious what ya think of my cookin' abilities. Was just tryin' to do somethin' nice" Well, no, he'd been trying to show Gladys up, backfired a bit.
Sam hadn't quit yapping about his legendary skills in the kitchen and Gene'd just wanted to shut him up, be better at something than him for once. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so 'cos Gene can still feel the splatters of fat soaking into his shirt and Sam's face just says it all.
What exactly'd persuaded him that a fry up would be romantic, he doesn't know. Might have been the fact that it's the only thing he can cook without burning the kitchen down. Might also have been the fact that, as with most of his plans, he hadn't quite thought it through.
Gene gamely continues frying bacon and cracking eggs until Sam's chuckles become too much and he throws down the spatula he's still holding, rips the 'kiss me quick' apron from round his neck and stomps off into the front room.
Sam's laughter abruptly dies and he realises for the first time, Gene'd actually been making an effort and he'd just pissed him self, spoilt it. Shit. That'll teach him to think before he giggles. Although, he can't be blamed for being amused, not really. Nothing he's ever seen has come close to the sight of Gene, covered in egg yolk and mushroom slivers, toast crumbs in his hair, wearing the most ridiculous apron he's ever seen.
"Geneeee"
"Piss off"
"Aww come on, was only teasing. Come back, finish the meal"
"No"
"Please"
"No!"
Sam rolls his eyes, steels himself for a bit of grovelling and follows the sound of Gene mumbling under his breath.
The sight that greets him is nothing short of hilarious but he knows, one more fit of giggles and he's for the high jump and he won't be getting sex for a month. The prospect of celibacy manages to dampen the urge to laugh and he goes to stand in front of Gene.
He's got a fag hanging out his mouth, baked bean juice drying on the end of his nose and his hair's plastered to his forehead with god knows what. Sam sinks his teeth into his cheek and drops to his knees.
Shifting forward, squeezing between Gene's legs, he runs a hand through gucky hair and curses when his fingers catch in a sweaty tangle. Extricating himself as best he can without yanking out a clump of blonde, Sam trails his fingers down Gene's cheek, letting them rest at his jaw.
Gene grunts, turns his head and shrugs his shoulders. "No use creepin' now, Dorothy. Damage is done"
Sam finds Gene's sulky act unbelievably adorable but he's not gonna give up that little bit of info, not when it means Gene'd be able to wrap him round his finger. He interjects as much chagrin into his voice as possible and purses his lips "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you, Genie"
"Too late"
"Aww come on, finish what you started. Promise I won't say anything else. Scouts honour"
"If you was a scout, I'd 'ate to see your idea of a good deed"
Sam does laugh at that then spots Gene's ever present pout notch up into a whole new level of sulk and clamps down on it.
Sam runs the pad of his thumb under Gene's eye and leans into his body, allowing his lips to gently brush against the other man's. Gene resolutely refuses to play, keeping his mouth shut and his lips stretched tight.
He manages to keep it up until he feels Sam's free hand glance against his crotch, fingers fluttering, causing his skin to warm and his hips to buck involuntarily. Treacherous bloody body.
Sam isn't put off by Gene's lack of participation and continues to lap at his lips with his tongue. Finally, Gene succumbs to Sam's efforts and opens his mouth, kisses him and allows his tongue to venture forth.
Sam's inner smug git gives a little shout and he grins against Gene's lips. Gene's so easy, a little loving, a little attention and he's anybody's. Good job Sam's not a jealous fella or he'd have twenty four hour surveillance tailing Gene round the city.
What's a little disturbing is half the slags in the city seem to have picked up on Gene and Sam's 'bond'. Admittedly it's usually Sam following Gene around like a lost puppy but still, Gene's easy enough to figure out when you know what buttons to press.
Sam feels Gene relax into the kiss and inwardly crows. His silent gloating is cut short when Gene abruptly breaks the kiss and stands.
Sam's confused look makes Gene chuckle and he nods towards the kitchen "Was makin' us dinner, remember"
"Oh, yea. Alright then, lets see what other skills you've picked up on the job"
"The skills I've picked up on the job ain't suitable for use in a kitchen, well, most of 'em anyway"
Sam shakes his head and gets to his feet, glad to be off his knees, what with them starting to go numb and all. Funny that, he can spend hours on all fours, Gene's body pinning him to whatever's unfortunate enough to be in the way but he can't kneel for any length of time for anything else. Such is the life of a fruit picking sodomite.
He follows Gene's pert bum back into the kitchen and deposits himself back on the sideboard. Gene goes back to the frying pan, picks up the spatula and relights the gas. It's not long before he's got more food in his hair and down his front than on the plates but Sam can't deny, what has made it on the crockery, smells bloody good.
His mouth waters as Gene serves up, plonking the plates on the table and chucking cutlery down next to them.
They shove in at the table and Sam raises one blackened sausage to his mouth. Letting the tip of it rest on his bottom lip, he waits for Gene to look up before sliding it into his mouth, hollows his cheeks and makes noises that'd put all of Gene's cheesy porn to shame.
Gene's eyes go so wide, Sam thinks they might actually fall out his head but he continues to suck and lick the sausage, pulling and pushing it into his mouth, making sure to look at Gene the entire time.
Somewhere at the back of his brain, Sam registers that this must look completely ridiculous but it seems to be doing the trick as Gene's still got one of his own sausages suspended half way to his mouth and his Adams apple is bobbing in time to Sam's energetic movements.
Finally, Sam opens his mouth wide and chomps down on the end of the sausage, making Gene wince and shut his eyes in imagined pain. Sam chuckles and tucks into the rest of his meal, ignoring Gene's incredulous look.
They settle into easy silence, Sam periodically feels Gene's eyes on him and can't help the grin twitching at his lips. He can tell, Gene's still imagining him sucking off a sausage and is probably completely confused as to what about that is so hot.
Ahh, the wonders of food as a physical metaphor. Only problem is, when you actually wanna eat it, the imagery transfers and you end up crossing your legs to block out the theoretical pain.
Sam hadn't noticed before, but Gene's laid the table with a couple of sorry looking candles and a flower in a dusty glass. It's stupid but the gesture makes Sam's insides flip. He'd actually thought about it, really bothered. No wonder he'd sulked like a brat.
Sam feels the need to apologize and looks up to do so but what he sees makes his mouth go dry, the words catch in his throat.
Gene's got his tongue wrapped round a bit of bacon, he's not intentionally doing anything filthy but Sam can see a drizzle of fat dripping down his chin and his lips are moist and glistening. It turns Sam's thoughts in a southerly direction and he's suddenly not so hungry.
Gene notices Sam looking at him and raises an eyebrow "What?"
"Oh, urr, nothing, just, you and...well. Nothing"
Gene's completely lost as to what's got Sam so twitchy but he can spot the signs even before they actually register. Sam's eyes are heavy, lids drooping, lashes brushing his cheeks. His tongue keeps darting out to wet his lips and he's breathing shallow.
What...Oh! Really...bacon? Kinky shit.
Gene laughs and goes back to fighting with his food.
Sam shakes himself and carries on devouring Gene's surprisingly enjoyable meal and wonders what other hidden talents the man's been keeping from him.
It's the image that comes galloping into his head, Gene in nothing but an apron, that has Sam's blood pressure rising next. Shit, is he incapable of eating a simple meal without falling off the map into smut city? Although the thought of sex with Gene covered in maple syrup or something equally as sticky does have some merit.
They finish the meal and sit back, both gorged and content. Gene smirks at Sam and says "Not bad, eh?"
"For a hamfisted plonker...no"
"Oi, see if I cook for you again"
"Aww, I'm just pulling your leg. It was lovely, although I think we'll try and upgrade you to food that won't give us both a heart attack by the time we're fifty"
"I ain't cookin' nothin' that means I 'ave to actually read a recipe book"
Sam rolls his eyes and laughs. That's Gene, always willing to learn.
Sam finds his mind wandering as he digests and his eyes alight on the fridge in the corner. Inspiration hits and he stands, circles the table and hauls Gene to his feet. Gene gives him a look that clearly states he thinks Sam's insane, moving a man this soon after ingesting fatty foods, but lets himself be pushed in the direction of the bedroom.
Once Sam's got him situated on the bed, he disappears off back into the kitchen. He's gone about ten minutes before Gene's curiosity gets the better of him.
"OI, what yer doin'?"
"Arranging pudding"
"What!"
"Just, pipe down and be patient"
Gene snorts and settles himself back into the pillows. Patient? Sam should know better by now. What exactly is that little poof doing anyway? S'not like they've got anything in the cupboards to rustle up a sweet treat.
Finally he hears Sam padding back towards the bedroom and waits to see what he's come up with.
Gene's jaw practically hits the floor and he finds himself instantly hard.
Sam's stood in the doorway, holding a tub of ice cream, wearing nothing but a grin.
"Wha...what, what are you doin'?"
"Told you, pudding"
"But..."
"What, I thought we could eat it here"
"Sam Tyler, you're a genius"
Gene shifts off the bed, undresses in record time, lays himself back against the covers and waits for Sam to join him.
Sam chuckles, wiggles his eyebrows and walks towards the bed. Sometimes Gene can be such a tart. Dangle an incentive in front of him and he'll roll over and offer you his belly to rub. Sam dreads to think what he'd do for something truly irresistible.
Despite Gene's complete sluttishness, Sam finds his own cock thickening and lengthening at the prospect of licking ice cream off of Gene's hot, scrumptious body. He places the tub on the bed next to Gene, leans over and starts kissing trails down Gene's stomach, making the muscles twitch and shift under his lips.
Gene moans, making the flesh beneath Sam's mouth vibrate. Sam lets the tip of his tongue follow the path of dark hair running from Gene's belly button to his corse curls and smiles when Gene spreads his legs automatically. Slut.
Sam reaches out blindly, feels around the bed for the tub and pops the lid. He dips his fingers in and scoops out a handful of the softening sweet. Without removing his mouth from Gene's body, he wraps his hand round Gene's cock, making him gasp and arch up off the bed.
The cold brings Gene out in goose bumps and he feels his nipples pucker and harden. The mixture of hot and cold, Sam's hand on his cock, ice cream slowly dribbling its way across his balls makes his brain short out.
It's too many conflicting sensations all fighting for dominance that makes him shudder and cry out.
Sam finds it almost impossible to keep a good hold on Gene with his fingers all slippery with melting confectionery but he tightens his grip and slides his hand the length of him, making sure to twist his wrist, give it a slight flick that makes Gene claw against the bed covers.
He keeps up a steady rhythm for a few minutes, enjoying the way Gene's body moves beneath him. It's too tempting and he lifts his eyes to see Gene's face. The image that greets him makes his own cock jump. Gene's got his eyes shut tight, his jaw's clenching and unclenching and he's panting with the effort not to give in and let go.
Sam's struck by the irony that the only time Gene ever concedes a point is when Sam's got him, literally, by the balls, but he's quite happy to never win another argument as long as he's allowed to turn Gene into a quivering mess of hormones whenever they're alone.
Sam takes one last look at Gene's face then turns back to his task, removing his hand, he positions his mouth over Gene's cock.
Gene tries to follow Sam's hand with his hips but is kept down by pressure on his belly and then he's engulfed in searing heat, causing him to groan and slam himself upwards. Sam opens his throat, lets his tongue lap up the remnants of the ice cream and begins to deep throat Gene. Sucking him as far back as he can, Sam enjoys the weight of Gene's cock in his mouth.
It's not long before Gene's babbling incoherently and squeezing Sam's neck, holding his head steady while he fucks that wicked mouth of his. If Sam keeps rasping his tongue against the underside of Gene's cock, this'll be over before it's begun and he wants, no he needs to burry himself inside Sam. So he grips Sam's throat and pulls his face away from his crotch.
Sam looks at him confused until Gene scooches back, shifts onto his knees and pats the bed in front of him. Sam grins, raises himself up and crawls towards Gene.
Gene roughly pulls Sam round so that he's facing away from him and his arse is wiggling invitingly.
Sam lifts the tub of ice cream and offers it to Gene. "Ta"
Gene takes a handful of ice cream and starts spreading it over Sam, making sure to completely cover him, then pumps his fist on his cock a few times before shuffling forward, placing himself against Sam and shoving forward.
Sam grunts and braces himself. Gene stills, reacquainting himself with the tight heat surrounding him, then begins to move. Slow, steady strokes that have Sam keening and arching up on his knees. He begs, he pleads, he even resorts to threats to no avail as Gene continues his sure and even movements.
This is the time, the time when Gene can appreciate Sam at his most open. When the muscles in his shoulders move like a caged animal, when he's groaning and screaming, calling out Gene's name. That's when he can see what it is they're doing and enjoy the closeness of having someone put that much trust in him. It's a heady, intoxicating thing; to have someone usually so guarded, falling apart around you and not batting an eyelid about it.
Eventually, Sam's hissed pleas through clenched teeth make Gene relent and he takes Sam into his hand, speeds his thrusts and fucks him into the mattress. He watches as Sam's body goes with the ebb and flow of momentum and finds himself willing Sam to crumble, just so he can burry himself in the feeling of tipping him over the edge.
A few more harsh pumps of his hand, one, two jerks of his hips and Sam's completely lost to anything resembling sense, he's left everything of substance behind and Gene crashes into his own orgasm, joins Sam in the in between space where nothing and nobody can touch them.
Spent, Sam and Gene collapse to the covers, wrap themselves in each other and fall into a peaceful sleep.
Before he dozes off, Sam remembers the ice cream and grimaces. Oh well, that's another set of sheets he'll have to throw out. Why does living with Gene, cost so much in bed linen?
Author: Moi!
Spoilers: Both seasons
Rating: Brown Cortina
Word Count: 2920
Pairings: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam thinks he's so crash hot in the kitchen..just watch Gene go.
A/N: Still playing =P SMut is theraputic
Gene's fit to be tied and Sam still hasn't stopped laughing. A full ten minutes into his attempt at a romantic meal and Sam's got his fist wedged in his mouth, teeth sinking into knuckles just to dull the volume.
Bloody git. Teach a man to make an effort, won't it? Ok, so he can see Sam's point of view. He's covered in cooking oil, looks like he's had a run in with the creature from the black lagoon and can't remember exactly why he'd thought this'd be a good idea, but still...bloody sodding git.
"You don't 'ave to make it so damn obvious what ya think of my cookin' abilities. Was just tryin' to do somethin' nice" Well, no, he'd been trying to show Gladys up, backfired a bit.
Sam hadn't quit yapping about his legendary skills in the kitchen and Gene'd just wanted to shut him up, be better at something than him for once. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so 'cos Gene can still feel the splatters of fat soaking into his shirt and Sam's face just says it all.
What exactly'd persuaded him that a fry up would be romantic, he doesn't know. Might have been the fact that it's the only thing he can cook without burning the kitchen down. Might also have been the fact that, as with most of his plans, he hadn't quite thought it through.
Gene gamely continues frying bacon and cracking eggs until Sam's chuckles become too much and he throws down the spatula he's still holding, rips the 'kiss me quick' apron from round his neck and stomps off into the front room.
Sam's laughter abruptly dies and he realises for the first time, Gene'd actually been making an effort and he'd just pissed him self, spoilt it. Shit. That'll teach him to think before he giggles. Although, he can't be blamed for being amused, not really. Nothing he's ever seen has come close to the sight of Gene, covered in egg yolk and mushroom slivers, toast crumbs in his hair, wearing the most ridiculous apron he's ever seen.
"Geneeee"
"Piss off"
"Aww come on, was only teasing. Come back, finish the meal"
"No"
"Please"
"No!"
Sam rolls his eyes, steels himself for a bit of grovelling and follows the sound of Gene mumbling under his breath.
The sight that greets him is nothing short of hilarious but he knows, one more fit of giggles and he's for the high jump and he won't be getting sex for a month. The prospect of celibacy manages to dampen the urge to laugh and he goes to stand in front of Gene.
He's got a fag hanging out his mouth, baked bean juice drying on the end of his nose and his hair's plastered to his forehead with god knows what. Sam sinks his teeth into his cheek and drops to his knees.
Shifting forward, squeezing between Gene's legs, he runs a hand through gucky hair and curses when his fingers catch in a sweaty tangle. Extricating himself as best he can without yanking out a clump of blonde, Sam trails his fingers down Gene's cheek, letting them rest at his jaw.
Gene grunts, turns his head and shrugs his shoulders. "No use creepin' now, Dorothy. Damage is done"
Sam finds Gene's sulky act unbelievably adorable but he's not gonna give up that little bit of info, not when it means Gene'd be able to wrap him round his finger. He interjects as much chagrin into his voice as possible and purses his lips "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to upset you, Genie"
"Too late"
"Aww come on, finish what you started. Promise I won't say anything else. Scouts honour"
"If you was a scout, I'd 'ate to see your idea of a good deed"
Sam does laugh at that then spots Gene's ever present pout notch up into a whole new level of sulk and clamps down on it.
Sam runs the pad of his thumb under Gene's eye and leans into his body, allowing his lips to gently brush against the other man's. Gene resolutely refuses to play, keeping his mouth shut and his lips stretched tight.
He manages to keep it up until he feels Sam's free hand glance against his crotch, fingers fluttering, causing his skin to warm and his hips to buck involuntarily. Treacherous bloody body.
Sam isn't put off by Gene's lack of participation and continues to lap at his lips with his tongue. Finally, Gene succumbs to Sam's efforts and opens his mouth, kisses him and allows his tongue to venture forth.
Sam's inner smug git gives a little shout and he grins against Gene's lips. Gene's so easy, a little loving, a little attention and he's anybody's. Good job Sam's not a jealous fella or he'd have twenty four hour surveillance tailing Gene round the city.
What's a little disturbing is half the slags in the city seem to have picked up on Gene and Sam's 'bond'. Admittedly it's usually Sam following Gene around like a lost puppy but still, Gene's easy enough to figure out when you know what buttons to press.
Sam feels Gene relax into the kiss and inwardly crows. His silent gloating is cut short when Gene abruptly breaks the kiss and stands.
Sam's confused look makes Gene chuckle and he nods towards the kitchen "Was makin' us dinner, remember"
"Oh, yea. Alright then, lets see what other skills you've picked up on the job"
"The skills I've picked up on the job ain't suitable for use in a kitchen, well, most of 'em anyway"
Sam shakes his head and gets to his feet, glad to be off his knees, what with them starting to go numb and all. Funny that, he can spend hours on all fours, Gene's body pinning him to whatever's unfortunate enough to be in the way but he can't kneel for any length of time for anything else. Such is the life of a fruit picking sodomite.
He follows Gene's pert bum back into the kitchen and deposits himself back on the sideboard. Gene goes back to the frying pan, picks up the spatula and relights the gas. It's not long before he's got more food in his hair and down his front than on the plates but Sam can't deny, what has made it on the crockery, smells bloody good.
His mouth waters as Gene serves up, plonking the plates on the table and chucking cutlery down next to them.
They shove in at the table and Sam raises one blackened sausage to his mouth. Letting the tip of it rest on his bottom lip, he waits for Gene to look up before sliding it into his mouth, hollows his cheeks and makes noises that'd put all of Gene's cheesy porn to shame.
Gene's eyes go so wide, Sam thinks they might actually fall out his head but he continues to suck and lick the sausage, pulling and pushing it into his mouth, making sure to look at Gene the entire time.
Somewhere at the back of his brain, Sam registers that this must look completely ridiculous but it seems to be doing the trick as Gene's still got one of his own sausages suspended half way to his mouth and his Adams apple is bobbing in time to Sam's energetic movements.
Finally, Sam opens his mouth wide and chomps down on the end of the sausage, making Gene wince and shut his eyes in imagined pain. Sam chuckles and tucks into the rest of his meal, ignoring Gene's incredulous look.
They settle into easy silence, Sam periodically feels Gene's eyes on him and can't help the grin twitching at his lips. He can tell, Gene's still imagining him sucking off a sausage and is probably completely confused as to what about that is so hot.
Ahh, the wonders of food as a physical metaphor. Only problem is, when you actually wanna eat it, the imagery transfers and you end up crossing your legs to block out the theoretical pain.
Sam hadn't noticed before, but Gene's laid the table with a couple of sorry looking candles and a flower in a dusty glass. It's stupid but the gesture makes Sam's insides flip. He'd actually thought about it, really bothered. No wonder he'd sulked like a brat.
Sam feels the need to apologize and looks up to do so but what he sees makes his mouth go dry, the words catch in his throat.
Gene's got his tongue wrapped round a bit of bacon, he's not intentionally doing anything filthy but Sam can see a drizzle of fat dripping down his chin and his lips are moist and glistening. It turns Sam's thoughts in a southerly direction and he's suddenly not so hungry.
Gene notices Sam looking at him and raises an eyebrow "What?"
"Oh, urr, nothing, just, you and...well. Nothing"
Gene's completely lost as to what's got Sam so twitchy but he can spot the signs even before they actually register. Sam's eyes are heavy, lids drooping, lashes brushing his cheeks. His tongue keeps darting out to wet his lips and he's breathing shallow.
What...Oh! Really...bacon? Kinky shit.
Gene laughs and goes back to fighting with his food.
Sam shakes himself and carries on devouring Gene's surprisingly enjoyable meal and wonders what other hidden talents the man's been keeping from him.
It's the image that comes galloping into his head, Gene in nothing but an apron, that has Sam's blood pressure rising next. Shit, is he incapable of eating a simple meal without falling off the map into smut city? Although the thought of sex with Gene covered in maple syrup or something equally as sticky does have some merit.
They finish the meal and sit back, both gorged and content. Gene smirks at Sam and says "Not bad, eh?"
"For a hamfisted plonker...no"
"Oi, see if I cook for you again"
"Aww, I'm just pulling your leg. It was lovely, although I think we'll try and upgrade you to food that won't give us both a heart attack by the time we're fifty"
"I ain't cookin' nothin' that means I 'ave to actually read a recipe book"
Sam rolls his eyes and laughs. That's Gene, always willing to learn.
Sam finds his mind wandering as he digests and his eyes alight on the fridge in the corner. Inspiration hits and he stands, circles the table and hauls Gene to his feet. Gene gives him a look that clearly states he thinks Sam's insane, moving a man this soon after ingesting fatty foods, but lets himself be pushed in the direction of the bedroom.
Once Sam's got him situated on the bed, he disappears off back into the kitchen. He's gone about ten minutes before Gene's curiosity gets the better of him.
"OI, what yer doin'?"
"Arranging pudding"
"What!"
"Just, pipe down and be patient"
Gene snorts and settles himself back into the pillows. Patient? Sam should know better by now. What exactly is that little poof doing anyway? S'not like they've got anything in the cupboards to rustle up a sweet treat.
Finally he hears Sam padding back towards the bedroom and waits to see what he's come up with.
Gene's jaw practically hits the floor and he finds himself instantly hard.
Sam's stood in the doorway, holding a tub of ice cream, wearing nothing but a grin.
"Wha...what, what are you doin'?"
"Told you, pudding"
"But..."
"What, I thought we could eat it here"
"Sam Tyler, you're a genius"
Gene shifts off the bed, undresses in record time, lays himself back against the covers and waits for Sam to join him.
Sam chuckles, wiggles his eyebrows and walks towards the bed. Sometimes Gene can be such a tart. Dangle an incentive in front of him and he'll roll over and offer you his belly to rub. Sam dreads to think what he'd do for something truly irresistible.
Despite Gene's complete sluttishness, Sam finds his own cock thickening and lengthening at the prospect of licking ice cream off of Gene's hot, scrumptious body. He places the tub on the bed next to Gene, leans over and starts kissing trails down Gene's stomach, making the muscles twitch and shift under his lips.
Gene moans, making the flesh beneath Sam's mouth vibrate. Sam lets the tip of his tongue follow the path of dark hair running from Gene's belly button to his corse curls and smiles when Gene spreads his legs automatically. Slut.
Sam reaches out blindly, feels around the bed for the tub and pops the lid. He dips his fingers in and scoops out a handful of the softening sweet. Without removing his mouth from Gene's body, he wraps his hand round Gene's cock, making him gasp and arch up off the bed.
The cold brings Gene out in goose bumps and he feels his nipples pucker and harden. The mixture of hot and cold, Sam's hand on his cock, ice cream slowly dribbling its way across his balls makes his brain short out.
It's too many conflicting sensations all fighting for dominance that makes him shudder and cry out.
Sam finds it almost impossible to keep a good hold on Gene with his fingers all slippery with melting confectionery but he tightens his grip and slides his hand the length of him, making sure to twist his wrist, give it a slight flick that makes Gene claw against the bed covers.
He keeps up a steady rhythm for a few minutes, enjoying the way Gene's body moves beneath him. It's too tempting and he lifts his eyes to see Gene's face. The image that greets him makes his own cock jump. Gene's got his eyes shut tight, his jaw's clenching and unclenching and he's panting with the effort not to give in and let go.
Sam's struck by the irony that the only time Gene ever concedes a point is when Sam's got him, literally, by the balls, but he's quite happy to never win another argument as long as he's allowed to turn Gene into a quivering mess of hormones whenever they're alone.
Sam takes one last look at Gene's face then turns back to his task, removing his hand, he positions his mouth over Gene's cock.
Gene tries to follow Sam's hand with his hips but is kept down by pressure on his belly and then he's engulfed in searing heat, causing him to groan and slam himself upwards. Sam opens his throat, lets his tongue lap up the remnants of the ice cream and begins to deep throat Gene. Sucking him as far back as he can, Sam enjoys the weight of Gene's cock in his mouth.
It's not long before Gene's babbling incoherently and squeezing Sam's neck, holding his head steady while he fucks that wicked mouth of his. If Sam keeps rasping his tongue against the underside of Gene's cock, this'll be over before it's begun and he wants, no he needs to burry himself inside Sam. So he grips Sam's throat and pulls his face away from his crotch.
Sam looks at him confused until Gene scooches back, shifts onto his knees and pats the bed in front of him. Sam grins, raises himself up and crawls towards Gene.
Gene roughly pulls Sam round so that he's facing away from him and his arse is wiggling invitingly.
Sam lifts the tub of ice cream and offers it to Gene. "Ta"
Gene takes a handful of ice cream and starts spreading it over Sam, making sure to completely cover him, then pumps his fist on his cock a few times before shuffling forward, placing himself against Sam and shoving forward.
Sam grunts and braces himself. Gene stills, reacquainting himself with the tight heat surrounding him, then begins to move. Slow, steady strokes that have Sam keening and arching up on his knees. He begs, he pleads, he even resorts to threats to no avail as Gene continues his sure and even movements.
This is the time, the time when Gene can appreciate Sam at his most open. When the muscles in his shoulders move like a caged animal, when he's groaning and screaming, calling out Gene's name. That's when he can see what it is they're doing and enjoy the closeness of having someone put that much trust in him. It's a heady, intoxicating thing; to have someone usually so guarded, falling apart around you and not batting an eyelid about it.
Eventually, Sam's hissed pleas through clenched teeth make Gene relent and he takes Sam into his hand, speeds his thrusts and fucks him into the mattress. He watches as Sam's body goes with the ebb and flow of momentum and finds himself willing Sam to crumble, just so he can burry himself in the feeling of tipping him over the edge.
A few more harsh pumps of his hand, one, two jerks of his hips and Sam's completely lost to anything resembling sense, he's left everything of substance behind and Gene crashes into his own orgasm, joins Sam in the in between space where nothing and nobody can touch them.
Spent, Sam and Gene collapse to the covers, wrap themselves in each other and fall into a peaceful sleep.
Before he dozes off, Sam remembers the ice cream and grimaces. Oh well, that's another set of sheets he'll have to throw out. Why does living with Gene, cost so much in bed linen?