Tricks
So ausmac posted Driving Home in Cars with Men which sort of called me out, because I was not really planning on posting this screaming fluffiness, but, WTH, it’s done and I’ve not much of a reputation left to destroy, anyway!
Title: Tricks
Author: mikes_grrl
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17+, for seksiness)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Warnings: AU. Gonna make somethin’ of it? And let’s just wing it and say “post-2.08.” Oh, did I mention FLUFF???? (dons anti-angora breathing mask)
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 2,300
Summary: Sam wakes Gene up, or is that the other way around?
NOTES: This was started in answer to a plot bunny from the fiandyfic’s Anonymous Porn Fest ("Sam/Gene. Sam waking Gene up in the morning") but it ended up being more of a story thingy and not so pr0ny although it is a little bit sexy. So instead I’m posting it as a fic. *fail*
…and what IS it with me and the fluff lately? *goes to kick useless angst monkeys, but discovers they were all STOLEN BY DAK!!!!*
Tricks
Sam could not open his eyes. He ran his face over his pillow, only it was not his pillow, it was rough and smelled wrong and it was…a couch cushion. As he peeled his eyes open and his mind clicked into a fuzzy kind of awareness, his brain rolled out a faded memory of the night before, something about ‘last man standing’ and shots of rum. Rum? Yes, rum. Sam knew better; rum had a strange effect on him, the high sugar content of the alcohol going straight to his brain and other regions and generally getting him into all sorts of trouble. He knew this because he learned it in Mexico, where he narrowly escaped getting arrested for…well, it was a narrow escape in any case.
So, rum + couch cushion and Sam hoped to God he was at least in the flat of someone he knew. As blood started pumping and his consciousness slowly ramped up, he realized he was on the floor, on a blanket on the floor - okay, someone cared, that was good sign. And a blanket over him too, so someone really cared. Even better. Annie? No, she skipped out when Ray entered the game, and with that thought Sam snapped up, praying for anyone but Ray. A heavy arm held down the lower portion of his body, draped over his hips, and Sam held his breath as he looked over.
Gene.
What the fuck? Sam stared at him, then looked around, and he knew he was neither at his place nor Gene’s home. A flat, somewhere unknown and unfamiliar, with him and Gene on the floor, half naked.
Wait. Sam looked down, and he understood then that something went dreadfully, fatally wrong in his life. His shirt was on, but unbuttoned, and he was not wearing any pants at all. Slowly, gently, he turned all the way over on his side to check out the status of Gene, and closed his eyes in stark terror. Gene was naked, completely naked, not a shred of decency on him, reeking of musk and smoke and old sweat. Sam laid still, running diagnostics, but nothing felt violated, not his butt or his mouth or anything. He ran a hand down carefully, checking himself, and nearly started crying. His cock was coated in cum, crusted with it. It seemed obvious, but he had to know, so he softly reached out to Gene’s groin, just to check, hoping to brush his pubes for evidence of…something.
“Ay.” Gene’s hand wrapped around his wrist with an iron grip, Gene’s eyes fluttering awake. Sam stared at him. “Give a bloke a chance.” Gene snorted and with a practiced, practical motion rolled on top of Sam. “Think you can stay on, this time?”
“Uh, what?” Sam sucked in air as Gene attacked his neck, licking and nibbling.
“Stay awake. Fell out soon as I got y’off. Leave a man wanting more, you damn tart.” Gene left nothing to the imagination with his hips, pushing a substantial morning erection against Sam’s thigh.
“…where are we?”
Gene stopped and looked down, laughing. “My place.”
“No, no, this isn’t your ‘ome, I been there…” Sam looked around, confused, as Gene kept humping his leg, and Sam was really hoping for a breather.
“Jesus, Sam, you don’ think I bring the tricks ‘ome to the missus?”
Sam blinked, registered the comment, then hauled off and hit Gene in the chest. Gene rolled back, surprised and automatically curling up to protect his penis from attack. Sam quickly - relatively quickly - crawled up and looked around at a one room flat, no bigger than his own, but nicer and cleaner and with a large bed by the window.
“Ohhhhh FUCK you.” Sam stumbled and held himself against the couch. Gene, ever the quick one to recover, stood up and grabbed Sam, throwing him the mere two paces onto the bed. The brief, lovely thought flashed in his head as he landed that it was, really, quite a comfortable bed. Big. Soft. Comfy. Then he remembered whose bed it was. He turned and pushed himself off, and one of Gene’s hands landed on his shoulders.
“Calm down.” Gene shook him slightly. Sam slapped at his hand and Gene drew back.
“I am SO not a trick. Fuck fuck fuck…what happened? No, forget it, shut the fuck up, I don’ want to know…” Sam stood up and cursed, and promised himself (again) that he was never going to touch rum as long as he lived. He looked around and saw his clothes draped haphazardly over the small sofa, and his fight went out of him. “Fuck.” He held his head in misery as he slowly sat back down.
“Not even close. You got a hand job. That all you want, then fine. Get the ‘ell out.”
“I am not a trick.”
“Never said so.” Gene went to the kitchenette and pulled out a cigarette from a pack on the counter and lit it. He stood, naked, leaning against the counter, glaring at Sam.
“You said this is where you bring your tricks. Bastard.” Sam rubbed his face.
“It is. It was.”
“Mmmphhhhh. Ungh.” Sam moaned, miserable, and too hung over to kill Gene like he really wanted to, and sitting on the edge of the bed for all intents and purposes just as naked as Gene, and ten times as embarrassed about it. Finally pulling together his pride, he glared back at Gene, who was waiting for him. “What happened?”
“Aside from the obvious?”
Sam nodded wearily.
“I got you drunk and brought you home and got in yer knickers.”
“This is…not happening,” Sam said, far too wasted to comprehend what Gene was telling him.
“Guess not.” Gene turned and stubbed out the cigarette, then glanced over at Sam. “You don’ remember? None of it?”
“Not this, not getting here, or…after. No.” Sam sat, staring at his clothes.
Gene crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. “Shit.” He pursed his lips, then walked over and grabbed Sam’s clothes. Sam cringed, expecting them to be hurled at him, but Gene stepped up to the bed and handed them over. Sam laid them in his lap, covering his privates.
“Why were we on the floor, if you have a bed?” Sam looked up, trying to piece things together for his own sake. Gene shrugged but did not answer.
“Shower, there. Clean up. Day off, I’m going to get a kip in. Lock the door when y’leave.”
Sam stood up, clutching his clothes to him, as Gene threw the sheets back and laid down and rolled over, putting his back to Sam.
In the shower, nothing was any clearer, but he felt cleaner. It was a nice flat, small but new and pleasant, and the bathroom smelled like smoke and Gene but was, overall, well kept. He took a long time bathing, his head slow to clear, and he did not want to get dressed in his dirty clothes again but there was not much choice. He figured that he was lucky not to puke, small blessing there. When he got out Gene was snoring, and for some reason, Sam felt bad. It was a decent flat, sure, but a lonely one. A small side life for tricks and sex and meaningless encounters, which now included Sam, apparently. He turned to the kitchenette and found tea, of course, and sugar, naturally, and even clean cups in the small cabinet. He put water on to boil and sat down on the sofa, looking at the blankets on the floor.
“No, don’ wanna go…”
“Gotta go, Sam. You stay. Sleep it off.”
“No, you stay. I stay. Yeah? You…take the bed. Here. I’m on the floor. Better than my own cruddy flat…can’ get up anyway.”
“Bloody ponce, can’t you even make it to the sofa?”
“…erm. No.”
“Here…”
Falling down…or pulling. No, he pulled Gene down. Oh, crap. Gene did not do anything but follow Sam to the floor, follow Sam as he peeled of their clothes, follow Sam into the kisses…god, the kisses…
Sam fell back as memories faded in and out, in no sensible order. The water boiled and he made tea and stood in against the counter, drinking it, and then noticed that Gene was awake, looking at him.
“Y’can leave anytime,” Gene said dryly.
“Not until I remember ‘ow to walk.” Sam gingerly tottered back to the sofa. “How long you ‘ad this place?”
“Not long.” Gene rolled over again and ended the conversation. Sam sighed and picked up the sofa cushion, putting it back, and pulled up a blanket to wrap over his legs.
“Nice. Place.”
“You’re one for the sweet talk…”
Kissing. Hands…everywhere.
“You live here?”
“…Sam, I’m a bit wrapped up in something else…” Nuzzling, squeezing his cock. Damn, it felt good. How long? Too long.
“But…”
“For you. I rented the place for you, okay? Now pay attention you damn poof while I jack you off…”
“Me? I…ohhhh…got a place…mmmm…umph…”
“A shitty place.”
Sam glanced over at Gene, assuming he did not remember that correctly. “You rented this place for me?”
Gene rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Remembering, then?”
“Bits and pieces. I remember you saying that.”
Gene pursed his lips and looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye. Frustrated, Sam whipped his head to focus intently on the wall.
“So you rented this for me, and yet it is where you bring your tricks, so that makes me…”
“Not like that.” Gene crossed his arms, then sighed heavily. “Did rent it for you. Thought…when you first showed up…didn’ work out like that, did it? So I had the place, might as well use it.”
Sam turned his stare to Gene. “Wait, you rented this place right after I got here?”
“Yep.”
“Two years?”
Gene nodded, then moved to fold his hands behind his head.
“You waited two years to get me here?”
“Still didn’ work, did it?”
Sam ignored that. “Why? Hotels not good enough for you?”
“What part of this don’t you understand?” Gene tapped his feet together under the sheets, impatient.
“I suppose pretty much all of it.”
Gene nodded, accepting that, and sat up to face him, pulling the sheets carelessly around himself. “Knew you were in that shitty flat, and wanted better for ya’. Knew if I got you I’d spend me whole paycheck on ‘otel rooms every night, which ain’t exactly low profile. And if you got a bit on the side, you keep ‘em right.”
Sam stalled, then sat up. “Wait…fuck…you were going to make me your kept mistress?”
“Funny, thought you were a bloke. My mistake.”
“You know what I mean, you bastard.”
“Yeah.”
Sam looked around. His flat. This was, really, his flat. Gene kept this flat for two years, hoping...while the whole time Sam burned the midnight oil in sexual frustration for the man. Which one of them was the most oblivious?
“I’ll take it.”
Gene frowned in surprise.
“No, I’ll take it. But I’ll pay for it. We’re putting the lease in my name. You get to keep a key.” Sam got up and started taking off his clothes. Gene continued to stare in mild disapproval.
Sam dropped his clothes on the couch and walked over to the bed, where Gene was sitting. He crawled up and straddled his lap and wrapped his arms around Gene’s shoulders.
“What, not good enough for you? Don’t think you’re getting a better offer…” Sam paused for a moment, giving Gene the one-shot option of pushing him off, then bent down and kissed him. Gene started off slow and soft, as if testing Sam to make certain he was not trying to trick him, but his erection was neither slow nor soft and it was completely convinced of Sam’s sincerity. Gene twisted and fell backwards so they were both lying on the bed, or at least Gene was, with Sam on top. Gene pulled the sheets out from between them and Sam gasped as he hammered into the kiss, feeling skin on skin. He got off the night before, but he did not remember it, so to his brain this was the first time in over a year - since that one nighter with someone he picked up at a bar on the other side of town - he was pressed against another naked body. Gene’s hands were running up and down Sam’s back, down to his ass, squeezing and fondling the whole way. Sam switched to Gene’s neck, nibbling and just barely sucking, and Gene bucked.
“Won’t last long for this run…too wound up…” Gene gasped and snorted at the same time, his eyes closed with a pained expression on his face.
“How much left on the lease?”
“Seven…fuck….seven months…” Gene pulled Sam into a tight hug and began pounding against him, their cocks not sliding so much as fighting for dominance.
“Then…damn damn damn…I guess we got at least seven months…” Sam was drowned out as Gene grunted into his chest, coming hard and fast and shaking. Sam took the momentary lapse in motion to reach down and thoroughly coat his cock with Gene’s cum and began fisting himself. He lasted for mere seconds before he bucked hard and cried out, slamming into Gene’s spent cock, which made Gene curse and spank him.
As they laid side by side in bed, Gene reached down and patted his leg. “Time for a kip, love.”
“Wwwwwonderful,” Sam purred, rolling to rub his face against Gene’s shoulder.
“Eh?”
“…means we get to wake up all over again later.”
#########
Title: Tricks
Author: mikes_grrl
Rating: Brown Cortina (NC-17+, for seksiness)
Pairing: Gene/Sam
Warnings: AU. Gonna make somethin’ of it? And let’s just wing it and say “post-2.08.” Oh, did I mention FLUFF???? (dons anti-angora breathing mask)
Disclaimer: All owned by Kudos, kudos to them. I’m just having fun.
Word Count: 2,300
Summary: Sam wakes Gene up, or is that the other way around?
NOTES: This was started in answer to a plot bunny from the fiandyfic’s Anonymous Porn Fest ("Sam/Gene. Sam waking Gene up in the morning") but it ended up being more of a story thingy and not so pr0ny although it is a little bit sexy. So instead I’m posting it as a fic. *fail*
…and what IS it with me and the fluff lately? *goes to kick useless angst monkeys, but discovers they were all STOLEN BY DAK!!!!*
Tricks
Sam could not open his eyes. He ran his face over his pillow, only it was not his pillow, it was rough and smelled wrong and it was…a couch cushion. As he peeled his eyes open and his mind clicked into a fuzzy kind of awareness, his brain rolled out a faded memory of the night before, something about ‘last man standing’ and shots of rum. Rum? Yes, rum. Sam knew better; rum had a strange effect on him, the high sugar content of the alcohol going straight to his brain and other regions and generally getting him into all sorts of trouble. He knew this because he learned it in Mexico, where he narrowly escaped getting arrested for…well, it was a narrow escape in any case.
So, rum + couch cushion and Sam hoped to God he was at least in the flat of someone he knew. As blood started pumping and his consciousness slowly ramped up, he realized he was on the floor, on a blanket on the floor - okay, someone cared, that was good sign. And a blanket over him too, so someone really cared. Even better. Annie? No, she skipped out when Ray entered the game, and with that thought Sam snapped up, praying for anyone but Ray. A heavy arm held down the lower portion of his body, draped over his hips, and Sam held his breath as he looked over.
Gene.
What the fuck? Sam stared at him, then looked around, and he knew he was neither at his place nor Gene’s home. A flat, somewhere unknown and unfamiliar, with him and Gene on the floor, half naked.
Wait. Sam looked down, and he understood then that something went dreadfully, fatally wrong in his life. His shirt was on, but unbuttoned, and he was not wearing any pants at all. Slowly, gently, he turned all the way over on his side to check out the status of Gene, and closed his eyes in stark terror. Gene was naked, completely naked, not a shred of decency on him, reeking of musk and smoke and old sweat. Sam laid still, running diagnostics, but nothing felt violated, not his butt or his mouth or anything. He ran a hand down carefully, checking himself, and nearly started crying. His cock was coated in cum, crusted with it. It seemed obvious, but he had to know, so he softly reached out to Gene’s groin, just to check, hoping to brush his pubes for evidence of…something.
“Ay.” Gene’s hand wrapped around his wrist with an iron grip, Gene’s eyes fluttering awake. Sam stared at him. “Give a bloke a chance.” Gene snorted and with a practiced, practical motion rolled on top of Sam. “Think you can stay on, this time?”
“Uh, what?” Sam sucked in air as Gene attacked his neck, licking and nibbling.
“Stay awake. Fell out soon as I got y’off. Leave a man wanting more, you damn tart.” Gene left nothing to the imagination with his hips, pushing a substantial morning erection against Sam’s thigh.
“…where are we?”
Gene stopped and looked down, laughing. “My place.”
“No, no, this isn’t your ‘ome, I been there…” Sam looked around, confused, as Gene kept humping his leg, and Sam was really hoping for a breather.
“Jesus, Sam, you don’ think I bring the tricks ‘ome to the missus?”
Sam blinked, registered the comment, then hauled off and hit Gene in the chest. Gene rolled back, surprised and automatically curling up to protect his penis from attack. Sam quickly - relatively quickly - crawled up and looked around at a one room flat, no bigger than his own, but nicer and cleaner and with a large bed by the window.
“Ohhhhh FUCK you.” Sam stumbled and held himself against the couch. Gene, ever the quick one to recover, stood up and grabbed Sam, throwing him the mere two paces onto the bed. The brief, lovely thought flashed in his head as he landed that it was, really, quite a comfortable bed. Big. Soft. Comfy. Then he remembered whose bed it was. He turned and pushed himself off, and one of Gene’s hands landed on his shoulders.
“Calm down.” Gene shook him slightly. Sam slapped at his hand and Gene drew back.
“I am SO not a trick. Fuck fuck fuck…what happened? No, forget it, shut the fuck up, I don’ want to know…” Sam stood up and cursed, and promised himself (again) that he was never going to touch rum as long as he lived. He looked around and saw his clothes draped haphazardly over the small sofa, and his fight went out of him. “Fuck.” He held his head in misery as he slowly sat back down.
“Not even close. You got a hand job. That all you want, then fine. Get the ‘ell out.”
“I am not a trick.”
“Never said so.” Gene went to the kitchenette and pulled out a cigarette from a pack on the counter and lit it. He stood, naked, leaning against the counter, glaring at Sam.
“You said this is where you bring your tricks. Bastard.” Sam rubbed his face.
“It is. It was.”
“Mmmphhhhh. Ungh.” Sam moaned, miserable, and too hung over to kill Gene like he really wanted to, and sitting on the edge of the bed for all intents and purposes just as naked as Gene, and ten times as embarrassed about it. Finally pulling together his pride, he glared back at Gene, who was waiting for him. “What happened?”
“Aside from the obvious?”
Sam nodded wearily.
“I got you drunk and brought you home and got in yer knickers.”
“This is…not happening,” Sam said, far too wasted to comprehend what Gene was telling him.
“Guess not.” Gene turned and stubbed out the cigarette, then glanced over at Sam. “You don’ remember? None of it?”
“Not this, not getting here, or…after. No.” Sam sat, staring at his clothes.
Gene crossed his arms and stared at the ceiling. “Shit.” He pursed his lips, then walked over and grabbed Sam’s clothes. Sam cringed, expecting them to be hurled at him, but Gene stepped up to the bed and handed them over. Sam laid them in his lap, covering his privates.
“Why were we on the floor, if you have a bed?” Sam looked up, trying to piece things together for his own sake. Gene shrugged but did not answer.
“Shower, there. Clean up. Day off, I’m going to get a kip in. Lock the door when y’leave.”
Sam stood up, clutching his clothes to him, as Gene threw the sheets back and laid down and rolled over, putting his back to Sam.
In the shower, nothing was any clearer, but he felt cleaner. It was a nice flat, small but new and pleasant, and the bathroom smelled like smoke and Gene but was, overall, well kept. He took a long time bathing, his head slow to clear, and he did not want to get dressed in his dirty clothes again but there was not much choice. He figured that he was lucky not to puke, small blessing there. When he got out Gene was snoring, and for some reason, Sam felt bad. It was a decent flat, sure, but a lonely one. A small side life for tricks and sex and meaningless encounters, which now included Sam, apparently. He turned to the kitchenette and found tea, of course, and sugar, naturally, and even clean cups in the small cabinet. He put water on to boil and sat down on the sofa, looking at the blankets on the floor.
“No, don’ wanna go…”
“Gotta go, Sam. You stay. Sleep it off.”
“No, you stay. I stay. Yeah? You…take the bed. Here. I’m on the floor. Better than my own cruddy flat…can’ get up anyway.”
“Bloody ponce, can’t you even make it to the sofa?”
“…erm. No.”
“Here…”
Falling down…or pulling. No, he pulled Gene down. Oh, crap. Gene did not do anything but follow Sam to the floor, follow Sam as he peeled of their clothes, follow Sam into the kisses…god, the kisses…
Sam fell back as memories faded in and out, in no sensible order. The water boiled and he made tea and stood in against the counter, drinking it, and then noticed that Gene was awake, looking at him.
“Y’can leave anytime,” Gene said dryly.
“Not until I remember ‘ow to walk.” Sam gingerly tottered back to the sofa. “How long you ‘ad this place?”
“Not long.” Gene rolled over again and ended the conversation. Sam sighed and picked up the sofa cushion, putting it back, and pulled up a blanket to wrap over his legs.
“Nice. Place.”
“You’re one for the sweet talk…”
Kissing. Hands…everywhere.
“You live here?”
“…Sam, I’m a bit wrapped up in something else…” Nuzzling, squeezing his cock. Damn, it felt good. How long? Too long.
“But…”
“For you. I rented the place for you, okay? Now pay attention you damn poof while I jack you off…”
“Me? I…ohhhh…got a place…mmmm…umph…”
“A shitty place.”
Sam glanced over at Gene, assuming he did not remember that correctly. “You rented this place for me?”
Gene rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. “Remembering, then?”
“Bits and pieces. I remember you saying that.”
Gene pursed his lips and looked at Sam out of the corner of his eye. Frustrated, Sam whipped his head to focus intently on the wall.
“So you rented this for me, and yet it is where you bring your tricks, so that makes me…”
“Not like that.” Gene crossed his arms, then sighed heavily. “Did rent it for you. Thought…when you first showed up…didn’ work out like that, did it? So I had the place, might as well use it.”
Sam turned his stare to Gene. “Wait, you rented this place right after I got here?”
“Yep.”
“Two years?”
Gene nodded, then moved to fold his hands behind his head.
“You waited two years to get me here?”
“Still didn’ work, did it?”
Sam ignored that. “Why? Hotels not good enough for you?”
“What part of this don’t you understand?” Gene tapped his feet together under the sheets, impatient.
“I suppose pretty much all of it.”
Gene nodded, accepting that, and sat up to face him, pulling the sheets carelessly around himself. “Knew you were in that shitty flat, and wanted better for ya’. Knew if I got you I’d spend me whole paycheck on ‘otel rooms every night, which ain’t exactly low profile. And if you got a bit on the side, you keep ‘em right.”
Sam stalled, then sat up. “Wait…fuck…you were going to make me your kept mistress?”
“Funny, thought you were a bloke. My mistake.”
“You know what I mean, you bastard.”
“Yeah.”
Sam looked around. His flat. This was, really, his flat. Gene kept this flat for two years, hoping...while the whole time Sam burned the midnight oil in sexual frustration for the man. Which one of them was the most oblivious?
“I’ll take it.”
Gene frowned in surprise.
“No, I’ll take it. But I’ll pay for it. We’re putting the lease in my name. You get to keep a key.” Sam got up and started taking off his clothes. Gene continued to stare in mild disapproval.
Sam dropped his clothes on the couch and walked over to the bed, where Gene was sitting. He crawled up and straddled his lap and wrapped his arms around Gene’s shoulders.
“What, not good enough for you? Don’t think you’re getting a better offer…” Sam paused for a moment, giving Gene the one-shot option of pushing him off, then bent down and kissed him. Gene started off slow and soft, as if testing Sam to make certain he was not trying to trick him, but his erection was neither slow nor soft and it was completely convinced of Sam’s sincerity. Gene twisted and fell backwards so they were both lying on the bed, or at least Gene was, with Sam on top. Gene pulled the sheets out from between them and Sam gasped as he hammered into the kiss, feeling skin on skin. He got off the night before, but he did not remember it, so to his brain this was the first time in over a year - since that one nighter with someone he picked up at a bar on the other side of town - he was pressed against another naked body. Gene’s hands were running up and down Sam’s back, down to his ass, squeezing and fondling the whole way. Sam switched to Gene’s neck, nibbling and just barely sucking, and Gene bucked.
“Won’t last long for this run…too wound up…” Gene gasped and snorted at the same time, his eyes closed with a pained expression on his face.
“How much left on the lease?”
“Seven…fuck….seven months…” Gene pulled Sam into a tight hug and began pounding against him, their cocks not sliding so much as fighting for dominance.
“Then…damn damn damn…I guess we got at least seven months…” Sam was drowned out as Gene grunted into his chest, coming hard and fast and shaking. Sam took the momentary lapse in motion to reach down and thoroughly coat his cock with Gene’s cum and began fisting himself. He lasted for mere seconds before he bucked hard and cried out, slamming into Gene’s spent cock, which made Gene curse and spank him.
As they laid side by side in bed, Gene reached down and patted his leg. “Time for a kip, love.”
“Wwwwwonderful,” Sam purred, rolling to rub his face against Gene’s shoulder.
“Eh?”
“…means we get to wake up all over again later.”
#########