fic: Because I Want You rating: Brown Rating
Title: Because I Want You
Author: totallywow
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Word count: 2,691 words.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: Total pornyness.
A/N: Un beta'd. Ok, that's me done... it's been fun!
If someone was desperate enough to shag him, Gene thinks, watching his Inspector - or if he was to be more honest and specific - his Inspector’s arse run, he would be a hell of a lot easier to work with. Much more manageable, not as tense and bloody defensive all the time.
He toys with the idea. He’s not gay, of course. Just looking to keep the team together, keep morale high amongst his officers and it would be easier if Sam wasn’t always challenging him. They don’t see each other much out of work, it’s not like Tyler cooks him dinner or goes shopping with him, so it’s not like he’d be a poof - maybe this is the only thing Gene can do to achieve a good balance in his team. And Gene’s all for that. He’s intrigued, naturally, and Sam - well - he’s nice looking, quite pretty for a bloke, he supposes. He’s got a nice face and a nice mouth, and Gene has to admit even if it’s only to himself that his Inspector does have a cute arse. For all his poncy poofter ways, he’s not sure whether Sam is gay or not, but he doesn’t much care.
*
They walk in the dark to Sam’s flat. Gene announced he’d walk Sam home just to make sure he gets there ok, isn’t too pissed. Despite the fact that Sam never gets that drunk, not really. He thinks that Tyler is playing along and realise he’ll have to set the rules out as soon as he can. He’s not entirely sure Sam will agree but there’s no room for compromise. Gene flicks away his fag as their approach Sam’s shitty flat. He laughs at his own private thoughts of how horrible Sam’s place is, that bed isn’t going to know what’s hit it, quite literally. Sam turns round and frowns slightly, lets them both in.
*
Gene pulls Sam close by his lapels.
“Listen ‘ere. We go by my rules or nothin’, yer understand that, Tyler?”
Sam’s head lolls back slightly and he nods. He must be getting desperate. Gene knows that Cartwright’s been keeping her legs crossed because he wouldn’t have to do this otherwise, if Sam was getting it from somewhere else. He’s proud of himself for being so generous and thoughtful.
“3 rules. 1, yer do as I say. 2, not on God’s earth am I ever lettin’ you shag me up the arse an’ 3. I’m always in control. That’s always, as in all the time. If yer don’t like any of ‘em I’ll be on me way ‘cause you better believe they aint changing, Gladys.”
He’s not sure if Sam’s going to agree. Those eyes feel like they’re penetrating his skin. Sam swallows and talks for the first time in what feels like ages.
“Ok. That’s fine.”
“Good choice, Sammy. Now strip.” Gene doesn’t look at Sam as he speaks; he’s busy getting his coat off which is heavier than usual due to the essentials he’s brought in his pockets. As he undoes his tie he watches Sam who remarkably is indeed stripping. Gene flings his tie and jacket away but he’s not getting naked yet. He intends on showing Sam where his place is. It’s about time Tyler learnt who was boss. It’s incredibly sweet to see how unsure Sam is, standing there without a strip of cloth on his body.
Gene retrieves the lube and handcuffs he brought with him from his pockets and puts them behind himself.
“Over me knee.”
It’s delightful to see Sam take a deep breath and his eyes pop a little, but he obeys, climbing over to lie down and grasping the metal bar in front of him, his slowly thickening & lengthening cock between the gap of Gene’s thighs. Gene smacks his arse immediately, wanting to see Sam’s reaction before he starts. Sam’s body jumps forward, but he remains quiet which Gene expected. It wasn’t a hard slap.
“Ever been spanked before, Sammy Boy?”
Gene smacks him: once, twice, harder. He smoothes the skin with his hand, preparing himself and Sam for what’s about to come.
“Oi, I said”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Don’t yer use that tone of voice with me, Tyler. I can make this as painful as pleasurable as I bloody well like. Just you remember what yer just agreed to. Don’t act bloody high and mighty with me, not now, now after agreeing to be my personal little slut.”
He whacks Sam’s arse with his hand, enjoying the burning feeling and watching the reddening of the arse in front of him.
“I didn’t agree to that” Sam’s voice is already out of breath and in slight pain. There are more slaps, with no pause in between them.
“Shut up.” Gene switches hands, surprised already at how quickly it begins to hurt. He didn’t think to use some sort of object. He notices his belt, old and leathery, but it seems quite cruel to whip Sam with something so heavy and strong. He doesn’t want to hurt him, not particularly. Well, maybe he does but only a little bit, to mark his arse for a few weeks. His ego and his cock are just dying to see Tyler beg, Tyler getting fucked by him, Tyler moaning and whimpering like a whore just for his cock, Tyler accepting his submission.
*
He shunts forward slightly to see Sam’s face. Sam is constantly moving from the pressure of the slaps, teeth sunk into his bottom lips and his eyes are watery and red, face burning with lust and a little embarrassment and surprise as Gene slaps a new, un-abused part of skin and increases his speed or pressure.
Gene hand is fucking killing him so he stops and strokes Sam’s arse which is hot red. Sam whimpers and moans, Gene realising he hadn’t heard Tyler make any noises so far. His own trousers tighten as Sam continuously groans and mewls softly.
“Yer can tell yer haven’t ‘ad a smack or three before, ’cause maybe if yer ‘ad I wouldn’t ‘av to do it meself.”
Sam doesn’t reply, he breathes heavily and groans a little, shifting about in Gene’s lap. Gene is pleased to feel Sam’s cock hard against his thigh. He reaches under the strokes the sensitive skin, closing his fist around it and removing it before Sam gets too excited.
“Please, Gene.”
“What’s that?”
“Please”
Gene rubs his hands together, applies a little lube to cool his hands down but not too much, can’t have them too slippery and wet. Starts a comfortable pace, watching the flesh ripple beneath his hands and Sam begins to make noises more freely. Gene gets off on the sound of his throaty moans and cries as he gasps, he smacks him harder, his own hard cock encased in his trousers and poking Sam’s hip.
“Oh, Sammy. Yer ‘av no idea just ‘ow gorgeous yer look right now.” He couldn’t see Tyler’s face but God, his Inspector looked amazing, wriggling and thrusting all over the place, sweating and flushed with a flaming red arse and ruffled hair from his constant movement.
“An’ ‘ow much I just want to flip yer over and shag yer rotten.” Yes. That’s how it’d have to be: he wants a clear view of Sam’s face when he finally takes him.
*
The tingling sensation running through each hand proves too much. He looks at the prints and colour on Sam’s arse, running his fingers lightly over the flesh and bends down to run his tongue across the marks. He had forgotten about the lube and grimaces slightly, uses his hands to move Sam further up the bed and Sam complies, leaning heavily on his elbows and throwing his head up, drinking down blessed air. Gene gets him in a nice position and nudges his thighs further apart. Sam tastes of cleanliness, of something new and refreshing. He swipes two fingers over the head of Sam’s cock which elicits a high-pitched moan, collecting pre-come and circling Sam’s entrance with it, licking his own fingers once he’s finished. It’s not something he’s ever thought about before, really, and certainly not something he’s done with the wife or any other lover - but he dips his head and begins to lick and flick his tongue over Sam’s arsehole, dipping in quickly, testing himself, pushing his own boundaries. Sam sounds like he’s singing a demented song, a stream of oh’s and umm’s and fuck’s and ah’s with cries and whimpers thrown in for good measure. He just loves the sound of his own voice, Gene thinks. He is surprised by how much he enjoys himself just tasting Sam.
*
Sam gives a cry of frustration as he feels Gene’s tongue withdraw and the Guv begins to fidget behind him. Fucking hell, he quite can’t believe this is happening, it’s incredible. Gene smacking his arse stupid, lapping away at him and - oh God - pushing a well-slicked finger inside of him. It hurts, but he feels more coolness drizzling inside of him and there’s two fingers demanding to be let it deeper than the last time. He’s happy to give Gene control in this, if that’s what he wants. He needs someone who’ll bring him back down, who will anchor him when he starts to float away. He hears Gene moan and pleasure himself and braces himself for what’s coming next. He’s not sure what the hell to expect but he knows it will hurt: he felt stretched when Gene pushed his fingers inside of him.
*
Gene decides he’ll keep Sam like this. He paints a tempting picture. He wishes that Sam had a mirror he could place at the end of the bed, he wants to see his face and have the best of both worlds, but there’ll be plenty of other times. He reckons Sam’s been with blokes before but from how tight he was just from being lubed-up and prepared, it must have been ages. He’s about to enter Sam when he a bright blinding flash hurts his eyes - a streetlamp, reflecting off the cuffs. He’d forgotten about them, Sam’s body blocking their presence. He shoves Sam down. His arms stretch out confused and Gene grabs him, the harsh clink of metal trapping his wrists. There’s not much need for them, not anymore, it’s not like Sam had resisted anything he’s done so far but he loves the feeling of Sam surrending all control to him. His cock enjoys it, too. He moves Sam’s arse so he’s in the air, meeting his own hips. Sam keeps the rest of his body down, his head buried in the duvet. Gene suspects he’s biting it hard and throws him a pillow instead. Pillow biter, he thinks, and it’s incredibly funny, he wants to make a remark, but he’s wasting bloody time now and he’s only got so much lube. He pushes himself in. He wants to be careful but fuck, it’s now or never. Sam might scream, he’s not sure, there’s some sort of howl but it’s repressed by his horrible looking pillow. He move forwards and fills Sam up. A free hand cups Sam’s face, bringing him into focus. Sam’s eyes are shut tight and his brow is furrowed, mouth open. He blinks at Gene. Gene moves ever so slightly.
“Yeah?” He doesn’t want to ask if he’s ok, or if it hurts because he bloody knows it’s not ok and it hurts and he doesn’t want to hear Sam tell him that. Gene’s moving - it’s a small movement - rocking his hips, thrusting gently. It begins to ease. Sam nods.
Gene grunts and moves faster.
He no longer cares about getting one over Sam. This is something else entirely. It’s all about Sam. It’s incredible to feel Sam like this: so desperate for him, but it’s a world away from the sexual thing Gene imagined it to be and he can feel it too. He bloody well needs Tyler, needs this. The power struggle is something he lets go, he lets everything he supposed he’d do go, free to fly or fall and concentrate on the man below him: pulling him in deeper with every thrust into his arse. He gives up and pounds into Tyler who’s wriggled so his face is sticking upwards dangerously close to the metal bar but able to snatch looks of Gene’s face if he strains his eyes. Their eyes meet and Gene comes, his heart beating hard and sweating collected on his forehead determinedly keeping his head stuck there. All he wants to do is pass out, but he can’t have his legendary prowess as a lover doubted so he reaches forward and wanks Sam off.
“Come on, Sammy Boy,” he urges, “I want to see you lose control.”
*
Sam comes with a cry in Gene’s hand and he tentatively licks his fingers before wiping the remaining mess on Sam’s bed sheets.
He un-cuffs Sam and they both lie almost side by side. It’s awkward but it fits if Sam shimmers down, into Gene’s side, Gene’s arm round the back of his neck and if Sam curls his legs up.
“I’d already lost it” Sam says.
Gene doesn’t care if he was or wasn’t new to gay sex. He grunts and ignores him.
“I’d already lost control” Sam explains.
“You and me both, Gladys. I didn’t expect that.”
“What?”
“Where me fags? I’m dyin’ ‘ere, Tyler.”
Sam fidgets, his upper body hanging off the bed as he retrieves Gene’s cigarettes and lighter.
“There. Enjoy polluting our lungs.”
“Shut yer trap.”
A short, comfortable silence passes. Sam watches Gene smoke.
“What didn’t you expect?”
“Hm?”
“You said you didn’t expect it.”
The fag is put out by the bed, and Gene flicks it away. Sam’s about to complain about how rude he is and he could have simply disposed of it in the bin when Gene answers him.
“I didn’t realise that I might just fancy yer. I just wanted to teach yer a lesson.”
“Bullshit. You can’t resist me.”
How can Tyler manage to be such a dickhead all the damn time, even after a fabulous shag? Jesus. He was tough work.
“Oh yeah? Well, just watch this, Dorothy. It’s me resistin’ yer grubby little paws.”
Sam made a clucking sound, dipped his head and ran the tip of his tongue in a tiny circle on Gene’s side. Kissed the skin softly, resting his head on top of his Guv’s chest.
“I ‘av to shake a leg, Sammy Boy, so shift it.”
He watched Gene dress, wanting to ask him to stay, or to go for dinner with him, to just wait and not leave him right now. His arse bloody hurt. The coat was retrieved. Gene picked up the lube and raised an eyebrow, smiling as he chucked it back at a naked Sam.
“Keep it on yer at all times, DI Tyler, there’s a good boy.”
“Whatever you say, Guv.”
Gene grinned.
Sam picked the cuffs up with his finger.
“And these?”
“Keep ‘em for next time.”
“A next time, hmm?”
“Don’t pretend to be coy. You’ll be on yer knees before yer realise what’s ‘appening.” He stole a kiss off a temporarily quiet Sam and left swiftly, not allowing Sam to retaliate. Bastard.
Sam put the cuffs at the bottom of his wardrobe. Gene had underestimated him. He had known exactly what was coming, had purposely been more confrontational and annoying than usual recently in a bid to wind up Gene until he snapped. Until he acted on his desires. Sam had no problem with the set rules, but he looked forward to the day Gene gave him control. God, he was knackered. Gene had left marks all over his backside and he’d be squirming in his seat for days which will no doubt please the Guv immensely.
He strips his bed because the dirty bastard had wiped cum all over it. If Gene didn’t get used to swallowing or taking it up the arse himself he was bloody well paying for some new bed sheets.
*