fic: Green Eyed rating: Brown Cortina
Title: Green Eyed
Author: totallywow
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Gene/Sam (tiniest ever hint at Sam/Annie.. don't think it's worth putting a S/A tag on).
Disclaimer: still not mine, dammit.
Summary: Gene gets jealous but Sam helps him out.
A/N: I just had a really bad urge to write Gene/Sam. It's rather PWPish. Well.. it is PWP. Ha. Not beta'd. The lovely tatlovetea is usually subjected to reading through anything I write first... but she is away, lucky thing. And it's rather rushed because I just needed a quick fix, so probably a few mistakes. 3, 181 words. Oh, and the title is rubbish.
Sam watches Gene leave the Arms, irritated. It’s been the first time in a while since he felt this happy and carefree. The Guv looks like someone stole his wallet and his beer in one swoop. He’s not sure exactly what has crawled up Gene’s arse but he feels good and he’s joining in, making jokes with everyone and Gene has to ruin it for him by sulking and scowling like a child all night. He wants to make him laugh, wants Gene to see what a clever boy he is rather than stare at his glass so hard it might shatter and stomp out after a good few chasers and pints (bought by Sam, of course).
Sam frowns, half laughing and half irritated when Chris looks at Gene strangely as he departs without a word and tells Chris silently he’s going after him.
“Oi! You!” Sam shouts, laughter in his voice. Gene hasn’t got far before he hears Tyler, the sound of feet clicking rather than stomping, impossibly high on himself and whisky.
“What is it?” Gene is not in the mood.
“Cheer up! Who died?” Sam is slightly breathless and grinning manically. Gene wants to punch him more than ever.
“Oh, do one, Gladys and get back to yer silly little bird. M’going home.” He goes to move but the warmth of Sam’s hand is on his arm and gripping him rather tightly, stopping him.
“What? What bird?”
“Who do you think?”
Sam’s forehead is creased, eyes big and a pout firmly in place. Gene tears his eyes away from those pretty pink lips, begging to be kissed and bitten and opened wide, and wills his cruel mind to stop conjuring up inappropriate situations and positions involving Sam and his mouth.
“Cartwright, yer bloody nonce. Now gerroff me, sick of yer.” He hisses at his Inspector, feeling a bit mean because it’s rare to see Sam loosen up, something he wishes Sam would do more often. Now he knows why Sam’s smiling he wishes the grumpy bastard he’s grudgingly got to know and very, very secretly come to maybe, just a little bit - love - was back. He heard Phyllis and Annie talking at the bar when he first walked in. Annie, simpering away, so sickly sweet he was almost sick in her lap. Gushing about how sweet Tyler is, how this time she thinks it might really be on, blah blah fucking blah, how bloody wonderful Gladys is and how they’re running off to London to get hitched naked and she’s pregnant with triplets. Maybe she didn’t say the last bit, but Gene doesn’t care. Stupid tart, he seethes secretly.
“Annie?”
“Well, never, Tyler,” Gene throws his eyes upwards with sarcasm dripping heavily from every word. Every time he walks away from Sam, Sam drags him back, closer to him than any time before.
“What’s wrong with Annie?” Sam sways a little, holding onto Gene’s coat rather than his arm, Gene notes reluctantly, missing the feel of Sam’s hand wrapped around him.
“Apart from the fact she’s shaggin’ an ugly little twat like you? Nothin’ at all, Gladys” Gene shrugs Sam’s slender fingers off his coat and stands tall, shoving his hands in his pockets. He really is going home in a minute and Sam and Annie can do whatever they like.
Sam smiles, his mouth slightly open as if he might laugh, but he doesn’t. “Will you drop it, Guv? Annie’s my friend.” He looks more sincere now, steadier.
“I ‘eard her blabbin’ to Phyllis about yer” Gene admits. He wants to know if there’s something going on, why deny it? Of course he does. The fact that they might be together makes his blood boil and something inside hurt. He looks at Sam.
Sam looks interested, coy, the bastard. “And…..”
“Jus’ goin’ on about you two bein’ a couple or some shite. As if I hung around to listen, Tyler, got better things to do than listen to some bird bang on about you.”
“Well. We’re not a couple, and we’re not going to be. I’m not sure why she’d say that.” Sam is thinking out loud now rather than speaking to Gene, but his Guv’s brass and rough tones hit his eardrums and he can’t forget that he’s standing right in front of him, demanding to be seen.
“If yer shag a bird, especially one like Cartwright, they usually reckon yer like ‘em an’ that, yer utter shit.” Gene spits furiously and now he’s just plain jealous, a spider like web being tangled in his head as he imagines what has or has not gone on between Annie and Sam.
“Gene! Nothing has happened between Annie and me, just let it go! And why are you so upset about it anyway?” It was an exasperated question, asked to no-one in particular, a heavy breath or maybe an irritated sigh expressed in words. Sam looks straight at Gene and sees something he is quite shocked to see. Genes’ eyes are green. He knows this, but they’re intensely green. The green-eyed monster. Oh my God, he thinks. Oh.
“Oh.”
Gene sees realisation and he wants to run, fast but he’s not a teenager, he’s a bloody grown bloke. So he stands, sticks his chest out.
“Yeah.”
“You’re…. jealous?” An amused smirk graces Sam face.
“Don’t flatter yerself.”
“You’re jealous.”
“Bollocks.”
“Because you love me?” He’s surprised that Sam has a stupid ‘cheeky chap’ grin on his face, completely with an entirely casual tone, clearly mocking him. Sam knows him better than to make a joke out of this, or maybe he’s just as nervous as he is and is pretending.
“Don’t be a twat, Tyler.” He warns. There is a clear warning in the sentence “don’t be a twat.” There is the word “don’t” followed by “be a twat” clearly stating he doesn’t want Sam to be a twat. But as usual, he disobeys by being the biggest twat going.
“Ooh you fancy me, Gene” Sam laughs and he is moving slightly, almost dancing. The man has a death wish. “You want to kiss me” he giggles, now in Gene’s face, up close and personal, very close indeed. Gene grabs his throat.
“Did yer not hear what I said, dickhead?” Sam’s eyes bulge a little and Gene releases some of the intense pressure on Sam’s throat, not wanting to kill his Inspector. He realises he’s pulled Sam closer and that the spoilt brat is on his tip-toes, highlighting how small and fragile he is compared to Gene, if Gene can support nearly all of his weight with one death-grip.
“I never would have thought.” Sam says, but the tiny smudge of a smile is too much for Gene and he hates feeling like Sam has some sort of power over him. He hasn’t pledged undying love for Gene or even reciprocated any feeling of attraction, putting Gene even more on edge. Gene shoves him hard into a nearby alleyway where he falls on his knees, coughing.
“Don’t yer dare think this means a thing. Yer can just piss off, if you’re going to laugh at me, yer selfish prick. I don’t love yer, it were just… nothin’, Tyler, nothin’. If you dare” he hisses, scared suddenly, in case Sam tells someone.
Sam pulls his head towards him and their lips collide painfully. It hurts so he bites Sam’s lower lip hard and tastes blood, and Sam struggles, the side of his head flying back two inches and smacking into the brick wall. He cries out in pain as Gene releases him.
“What the fuck, Guv! Jesus!” Sam moans, a hand going to the back of his head as he groans and wriggles his way up.
“Don’t think yer can tease me, Sammy boy. If yer wanna play, we can bloody well play, but we do it by my rules.”
Sam licks his lips, one hand on his head and the other wiping blood from his chin.
“Fine by me. Can we play somewhere where there’s less…. brick?” He grimaces at the wall, his palm flat against it.
“Always have to complain don’t yer. Back to yours then, don’t think my Missus would take kindly to me bringin’ yer home.”
“You speak sense, Guv. Who knew?” Sam smiles wickedly and Gene’s stomach flips. He wants to kick him for the insult and kiss him for the way he’s smiling, and his stupid sticking-up hair, his blood red mouth and pink cheeks.
The walk to Sam’s flat is odd to say the least, knowing exactly what’s at the end of it. There are playful punches, plenty of smutty innuendos and raised eyebrows. When they finally reach the tiny box Sam lives in, Gene makes a face.
“This is a right shit hole, Sammy. That bed… I don’t think it can support you sleepin’ on it, and yer no fat bastard. How the ‘ell is it gonna take me shaggin’ yer?”
“Who said you’d be shagging me?” Sam asks, eyes narrow, smiling as he takes his jacket off.
Gene really does laugh at that. “Don’t tell me that yer actually think I’ll be the one on me hands and knees.”
Sam shrugs. “Why, are you some kind of exception?”
“Look, I ‘aven’t done this before, Gladys, but even I know that one bloke gives and the other takes. Do yer think I look like the taker ‘ere? ‘Coz I reckon yer need specs if yer think I do.”
Sam walks over, taking Gene’s coat off. “Just because you’re bigger than me”
“In every way” Gene interrupts with a self-satisfied smirk.
-“doesn’t mean you can’t……… take?” Gene allows Sam to unbutton his shirt, his coat rumpled at his feet.
“Give over, Tyler.” Gene is bored; he rips at Sam’s shirt, unbuttons him quickly, manhandling him to the bed and chucking him over it.
Sam scrambles onto his back and Gene is on top of him in a flash, and they kiss. Gene is deliberately softer, apologising silently for earlier, using his tongue rather than making a statement and enjoying the kiss, undressing Sam and himself until they’re both naked. He rises up, straddling Sam and pulling at his soft cock.
“See. Bigger than you.” He teases.
Sam smiles and reaches for his half-hard dick.
“Go on. I won’t tell.”
Gene understands quickly what he’s talking about. “Sod off.”
“Gene, I’ve done this before. Trust me.” Gene does look down at Sam then, taking his hands off him and placing them on his shoulders. He smiles, feels a rush of excitement fizz through him quickly. Sam is stroking him, working him, getting him hard.
“It hurts.” He waits for Sam to provide him with evidence and stories and theories, to prove him wrong, to persuade him.
“Well, yeah it does.” The excitement is replaced with fear and Sam must see this in Gene’s eyes, his face, sense it because he strokes Gene’s thighs and back temporarily. “It hurts, Gene, but not for long. If you do it properly. I’ll do everything to make sure it’s as comfortable as possible, I promise. I don’t want to hurt you.” He brings Gene’s hand up to his lips, kisses it once or twice. “It would be even more special, I think.”
“Oh yeah?”
Sam rubs his face and lips against Gene’s hand, smiling, looking up into those green eyes. Now an ocean green, the anger replaced with a vulnerability and sweetness Sam knows he won’t ever see again if he fucks this up. He’s aware of how important this moment is. He knows it’s more than just getting to fuck Gene, even though part of his ego is eager and desperate to see Gene on all fours for him, but because it really would be out of character, something Gene wouldn’t have contemplated doing in a million years but would do… for him.
Gene brings his face down, his lips touching Sam and he brings his free hand up, licking his thumb and running it over Sam’s small cut.
“I am sorry about that, Sammy.”
“That’s ok.”
“I do want to” Gene whispers and God, Sam’s eyes glaze over and his stomach is doing something dangerous, so many sensations making him feel dizzy and slightly crazy and they haven’t got to the good part yet.
“Let me out, then. Need some… you know.” Gene moves and Sam moves to his dresser. He knows he has lube somewhere and he hopes Gene doesn’t ask too much about it. It was bought on a hopeful whim and used once (unexpectedly) and then occasionally during a wank.
He shows it to Gene and Gene licks the side of his lip, shifts forward, putting his palms flat against Sam’s bed and waiting for Sam to get behind him. Sam must sense his uneasiness as he asks him what’s wrong.
“We can do it a different way, if you don’t wanna do it like this, Guv.”
Gene ignores his slight discomfort. “I’m fine, Tyler, and I’ll be much better if you get on with it.”
Sam gets behind him, pushing down of his back, a hand on one hip pulling Gene’s arse up. Gene feels wet coolness as Sam circles two fingers around him, slipping one finger inside carefully. Gene lets an “mmmm” slip, and Sam twists and curls and adds more of the liquid, and it feels much slicker. He adds another finger and it hurts a little more, but Sam’s careful and he scissors and opens Gene up, it gets wetter and Sam’s fingers find his prostate and Gene moans. Sam doesn’t say anything, squeezes lube into his hand and wanks himself quickly. The head of his cock press at Gene’s entrance and his pushes himself forward, slipping in and Gene hisses. Sam holds tighter onto his hips, pushing forward, and Gene feels himself getting stretched and filled up and it does hurt. Sam was right. He breathes out and listens to Sam moaning and breathing heavily above him. It feels fucking strange, he thinks. Sam moves out, and in, and has an easy thrusting rhythm. He picks up his pace and begins to slide in and out of Gene easily.
“Oh, oh… Gene, wow.” Sam lets himself go, rides Gene hard as he finally hears gasps and whimpers from his Guv. Hands gripping Gene’s hips hard as he fucks him. He forgets about games and playing and delights in the tightness surrounding his cock, of the smell of Gene’s hair (cigarettes, fruity shampoo and something else) of the noises Gene makes (soft moans, whimpers and small “ah”s and “mmm”s) the taste of Gene’s skin when he leans in and kisses and licks it (soap, sweat, Gene) and he throws his head back and pounds Gene as hard as he can. He’s aware of his own groans and grunts and his bed is seriously protesting, groaning as much as they are. He’s positive his neighbours will be embarrassed knowing what’s going on in his flat or they’re smiling to themselves, wishing they were getting a bit of what he was. He grins to himself, oh yes, well they can wish, but he doesn’t intend on giving this up.
“Gene.” It’s throaty and full of feeling and he fucks Gene even harder but he knows he’s got it right as Gene groans and arches up. Gene is fully hard from Sam touching him earlier and from this, from Sam shagging him senseless, rubbing up against his prostate, the teasing bastard, driving him wild. It is bloody good and it hurts but its good, and Sammy knows what he’s doing. Sam takes him in hand and pulls him off with determined strokes, rocking in and out, pulling him upright and talking in his ear.
“Enjoying yourself, Guv.” It’s not a question.
Gene moans and thrusts in response. Sam tightens his hand around Gene’s cock.
“Oh yes. I know you are. You’re enjoying getting fucked by me, aren’t you?”
Gene throws his head back and Sam’s lips are on his neck and throat. Sliding in and out, jerking him off slowly.
“I bet in all those little daydreams you’ve had, dreaming of me...” Sam says, breathing in his ear, that minty, alcohol smelling breath, licking Gene’s shoulder… “I bet you threw me down on a bed - no, no, on your desk - and I bet I spread my legs and let you fuck me hard.” Gene almost comes and Sam squeezes his cock, stopping his orgasm. Gene roars, impatient, needing to come now. “Yes. I did. I would, I’d just let you fuck me… whenever, wherever you like, however you want it.”
His hand is touching, up and down Gene’s cock, so carefully.
“Prick-teasing tart” Gene says and Sam grins on his back, just below his neck.
“I bet you never really thought of this. Being like this, for me. Letting me fuck you.” He kisses Gene, tasting the skin in front of him. “You’re incredible” he murmurs against him and feels Gene arch up under his touch. “And I promise you Guv, you can have me any way you want me. I’ll do anything you want for this.” And with that, Sam fucks him, finally tossing him off properly, hard and fast and pressing against that sweet spot and Gene comes in Sam’s hand, Sam following him and coming inside his arse. He feels Sam slip out, knows he’s being careful and his arse and thighs feel wet with lube and cum. He groans, too exhausted to clean up, all put passing out on Sam’s bed, taking up the tiny space.
Sam is fiddling in his coat pockets.
“Oi, leave off” Gene starts, but Sam produces his beautiful, beautiful Marlboros and shakes two out. Gene accepts gratefully and lets Sam light him up, looking on amused as Sam lights his own and stands by his window, looking out on the street below him. He looks fucking sexy like that, naked and flushed, a ciggie in his hand, stretching his neck as he blows the smoke upwards and it surrounds him.
“Hypocrite.” He says gruffly. Sam grins, steps forward and kisses him on the lips.
“Yep.”
“Alright, then. You were right, Sammy-boy. But you don’t you dare forget that promise, ‘coz I am ‘avin’ some beautiful ideas already.” Gene grins and blows smoke into the air.
“Good, good. I look forward to it.”
Gene pulls him forward again and kisses him, much harder. Smiles as he lets him go. Things worked out surprisingly well, he admits, smoking leisurely. He didn’t imagine he’d be lying on Sam’s bed tonight, naked, satisfied after finally getting it on with Sam and what’s more, he’d let Sam take the lead. Sam had better believe it when he said he’s already got ideas, because by God, he has. He hears the shower start and puts his fag out, goes to join Sam. Things worked out perfectly, he must say. He makes a mental note to annoy Sam more often, along with the fact he needs to buy some sort of cane and a schoolboy’s uniform.
*