Fic: Power is the Ultimate Aphrodisiac
Title: Power is the Ultimate Aphrodisiac
Author: ... Not me...
Rating: Brown Cortina
Words: 651
Pairing: Gene/Litton... (yes, I went there) Vague Sam/Gene (because Sam always gets in the way of Gene's relationships, doesn't he?)
Disclaimer: Not mine. At all. And I'm not sorry for using them this way.
A/N: It's still PWP week, right? This is my contribution... because
hambelandjemimasuggested we have moustache fic as a genre and, well, Litton has a moustache... I'm so sorry... Okay, I'm not at all. I feel dirty but it's incredibly liberating. Anyway, any comments/ criticisms/ complaints/ general statements of disgust are all welcomed. Oh, and apologies to Henry Kissinger whose quote I stole as a title for this piece of porn. If it is porn, 'cause after everything I've read I think this is quite tame. :)
When Gene Hunt declared to his team that he was going to ‘teach that smarmy RCS bastard a few lessons he won’t forget in a hurry’ he hadn’t actually planned to include a demonstration on handling firearms. Admittedly, if he had subconsciously intended such an encounter all along then he was far more perverse than he had ever assumed himself to be.
Gene had always believed that Litton was, in his own words, ‘one of them fairies’ so wasn’t surprised that Litton had so readily accepted his advances. What did surprise Gene, however, was the fact that he had advanced on Litton to begin with. Especially as, unlike Sam for example, Litton couldn’t even be vaguely mistaken as a female; he had a very prominent moustache, for one.
But now, the only man Gene found more infuriating than Tyler was effectively at his mercy and Gene fully intended to use that power to his advantage. Litton would most definitely get his punishment, though it wasn’t quite the way Gene had envisioned it in his mind, but the surge of power that swept through Gene was too great for him to ignore. Beneath him, Litton was splayed naked across his own desk, exposed and defenceless, but to all appearances enjoying himself as Gene slid his cock into him with a faint popping sound. Well, Gene thought malevolently, he’d have to put an end to that.
As Litton let out a deep moan of pleasure, Gene bent forwards and spoke. “Button it, you bloody dirty git,” he hissed into Litton’s ear as he shoved a scrunched up page from a file into the man’s mouth, despite Litton’s attempts to push it back out with his tongue. Gene laughed vindictively as he reached around to stroke Litton’s leaking cock.
“Now that,” panted Gene as he thrust forwards forcefully, congratulating himself on his inventiveness, “is the best use of paperwork I’ve ever seen.”
Litton’s now stifled guttural cries were the music to Gene’s grinding rhythm as he drove himself deeper into the man with each thrust. Gene had to grip Litton’s hips tightly to keep himself upright, short fingernails digging into the flesh that left raw red semi-circles imprinted on the skin. It would take a while for those marks to fade, Gene gleefully noted as he pushed his hips forward, grunting intermittently as he did so.
“Quietest you’ve been, in’t it, Litton?” Gene said, his breathing now coming in short, ragged bursts as he pounded faster into Litton’s fleshy backside, Litton pressing back against him urging him deeper.
A deep noise emanated from Litton’s throat.
“What’s that?” Gene asked huskily, pretending to strain his ears, pressing his torso against Litton’s bare back as he leaned over, feeling the man quiver violently beneath him. “You wanna be fucked harder?”
The noise from Litton’s throat became shriller.
“Your wish is the Gene Genie’s command,” Gene said with an unseen feral grin as he obliged the request that Litton hadn’t actually uttered. Litton’s hands were clenching on the table edge, his knuckles white as he held on fast to stop his sweaty body sliding forwards across the varnished desk. Gene grasped Litton’s hips tighter with one hand, the other furiously pumping at Litton’s cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip, feeling Litton buck into his hand at the touch.
Gene was so absorbed in his stroking and thrusting he didn’t notice the door open. Until there was a loud gasp.
Sam stood framed in the doorway, frozen in place by shock, his mouth agape. The file he’d been clutching now scattered across the grubby floor, though Sam was oblivious to it haven fallen from his grip.
“Sorry, Sammy-boy,” Gene apologised, with a smirk, through gritted teeth as he continued to pummel into Litton, who was twitching convulsively beneath him, the gag curbing his screams. “DCIs only. But, if yeh lucky, I’ll share some of me wisdom later.”
Author: ... Not me...
Rating: Brown Cortina
Words: 651
Pairing: Gene/Litton... (yes, I went there) Vague Sam/Gene (because Sam always gets in the way of Gene's relationships, doesn't he?)
Disclaimer: Not mine. At all. And I'm not sorry for using them this way.
A/N: It's still PWP week, right? This is my contribution... because
hambelandjemimasuggested we have moustache fic as a genre and, well, Litton has a moustache... I'm so sorry... Okay, I'm not at all. I feel dirty but it's incredibly liberating. Anyway, any comments/ criticisms/ complaints/ general statements of disgust are all welcomed. Oh, and apologies to Henry Kissinger whose quote I stole as a title for this piece of porn. If it is porn, 'cause after everything I've read I think this is quite tame. :)
When Gene Hunt declared to his team that he was going to ‘teach that smarmy RCS bastard a few lessons he won’t forget in a hurry’ he hadn’t actually planned to include a demonstration on handling firearms. Admittedly, if he had subconsciously intended such an encounter all along then he was far more perverse than he had ever assumed himself to be.
Gene had always believed that Litton was, in his own words, ‘one of them fairies’ so wasn’t surprised that Litton had so readily accepted his advances. What did surprise Gene, however, was the fact that he had advanced on Litton to begin with. Especially as, unlike Sam for example, Litton couldn’t even be vaguely mistaken as a female; he had a very prominent moustache, for one.
But now, the only man Gene found more infuriating than Tyler was effectively at his mercy and Gene fully intended to use that power to his advantage. Litton would most definitely get his punishment, though it wasn’t quite the way Gene had envisioned it in his mind, but the surge of power that swept through Gene was too great for him to ignore. Beneath him, Litton was splayed naked across his own desk, exposed and defenceless, but to all appearances enjoying himself as Gene slid his cock into him with a faint popping sound. Well, Gene thought malevolently, he’d have to put an end to that.
As Litton let out a deep moan of pleasure, Gene bent forwards and spoke. “Button it, you bloody dirty git,” he hissed into Litton’s ear as he shoved a scrunched up page from a file into the man’s mouth, despite Litton’s attempts to push it back out with his tongue. Gene laughed vindictively as he reached around to stroke Litton’s leaking cock.
“Now that,” panted Gene as he thrust forwards forcefully, congratulating himself on his inventiveness, “is the best use of paperwork I’ve ever seen.”
Litton’s now stifled guttural cries were the music to Gene’s grinding rhythm as he drove himself deeper into the man with each thrust. Gene had to grip Litton’s hips tightly to keep himself upright, short fingernails digging into the flesh that left raw red semi-circles imprinted on the skin. It would take a while for those marks to fade, Gene gleefully noted as he pushed his hips forward, grunting intermittently as he did so.
“Quietest you’ve been, in’t it, Litton?” Gene said, his breathing now coming in short, ragged bursts as he pounded faster into Litton’s fleshy backside, Litton pressing back against him urging him deeper.
A deep noise emanated from Litton’s throat.
“What’s that?” Gene asked huskily, pretending to strain his ears, pressing his torso against Litton’s bare back as he leaned over, feeling the man quiver violently beneath him. “You wanna be fucked harder?”
The noise from Litton’s throat became shriller.
“Your wish is the Gene Genie’s command,” Gene said with an unseen feral grin as he obliged the request that Litton hadn’t actually uttered. Litton’s hands were clenching on the table edge, his knuckles white as he held on fast to stop his sweaty body sliding forwards across the varnished desk. Gene grasped Litton’s hips tighter with one hand, the other furiously pumping at Litton’s cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip, feeling Litton buck into his hand at the touch.
Gene was so absorbed in his stroking and thrusting he didn’t notice the door open. Until there was a loud gasp.
Sam stood framed in the doorway, frozen in place by shock, his mouth agape. The file he’d been clutching now scattered across the grubby floor, though Sam was oblivious to it haven fallen from his grip.
“Sorry, Sammy-boy,” Gene apologised, with a smirk, through gritted teeth as he continued to pummel into Litton, who was twitching convulsively beneath him, the gag curbing his screams. “DCIs only. But, if yeh lucky, I’ll share some of me wisdom later.”