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Gene was limping the next day, and Sam smirked like the Joker getting one over on Batman. He smirked as he walked into work, and he smirked over lunch, and he smirked as he and Gene rode to the scene of a burglary with Ray and Chris in the back seat, Gene squirming subtly and uncomfortably in the driver seat. Sam was careful not to be too obvious, and he certainly did and said nothing out of character for a normal, frustrating day on the job with DCI Gene Hunt, but he simply could not stop. The only peculiar part of the day was that Gene saw him, knew why he was smirking, and simply let him.

That, Sam knew, was love.

There was price to pay, though, and Sam found out that night when Gene took revenge in a typical fashion, getting Sam utterly and fabulously plastered at the Railway Arms, telling him that as they both had the day off tomorrow, it was his duty to get Sam as incapacitated as possible, which only made sense to Gene and Ray and Chris and pretty much everyone but Sam. Sam tried to argue but Nelson was supportive of Gene’s tactics, and Sam went under beneath a sea of whiskey and lager. As he teetered towards the door, thinking that falling down…no, walking, he definitely wanted to keep walking…home was a great idea, he heard Gene behind him and thought that now he was going to pay for the smirking.

A heavy hand fell on his shoulder and Sam turned to look right at Ray.

“Gene?”

“Oi you are pissed, Boss. Christ.” Ray snarled and grabbed his jacket, pulling him out.

“Gene…” Sam nearly tripped down the stoop and Ray tugged on him.

“The Guv is in the middle of a card game. Told me to get you ‘ome.”

Sam snarled. Bastard. The perfect revenge. Then he giggled, thinking that maybe this was Gene’s way of getting out of being a bottom again…not that Sam had any confidence in his abilities to get anything in gear at this moment. No, Gene was just going to let him stew in drunken loneliness for the night, wanting something new and exciting and unable to taste him…Gene…

He did not know when he lost Ray, but Sam made it to his flat and crashed barely on the bed, willing himself to vomit while desperately trying not to. He woke up late in the morning on Gene’s lap.

“…what?”

“Don’ remember?” Gene stirred in the chair under him, not drunk and fully awake, his arms embracing Sam and holding him in place. Sam blinked and ran diagnostics: fully dressed, no particular physical pain other than a monstrous hangover, or maybe he was just still drunk, and he had a shoulder cramp from where his arm was crushed against Gene. He sat up and tried to push off. Gene let go and Sam tumbled to the floor.

“Bastard!”

“You ‘ad a good thing goin’, and you pushed off. Just helpin’ you.” Gene leaned forward and looked down at him. Then Sam realized that something was wrong; he was ‘hanging’ wrong, and his underwear was clinging wrong, and his dick was sore. He rolled over on his ass and looked down at the cum stain.

“You fuck.”

Gene leaned back, waving a hand at him. “Coulda’ been worse. Or better.” Gene grinned.

“When’d you get here?” Sam demanded, crawling onto his knees in a first bid for vertical stability.

“Late. Thought I’d check my deputy, make sure he didn’ fall down on the floor an’ crack his head open like the nancy lightweight he is.”

“You’re concern is underwhelming.” Sam pulled a knee up and set the foot flat on the floor, both hands still on the floor for balance.

“Your idea. I’m just sittin’ here in the chair, mindin’ my own business, when you fall down on me.”

“I bet.”

“Jus’ doin’ my duty.” Gene leered.

“Hope it was good for you…” Sam snarled as he got both feet flat and slowly started to stand up.

“Jus’ savin’ up for later.” Gene reached around and pulled out his cigarettes from the shelf behind him, and lit one.

Sam stood uncertainly, his arms out to his sides. “Oh? Too sore?” He smirked because he could, and he hoped that his weakened condition would inspire some sort of condescension from Gene. He was wrong.

He spilled onto the floor after Gene’s foot shot out and tapped his knee. Sam cursed and rolled around as Gene smoked casually and watched him, amused.

“Get up. I’m hungry and we’re goin’ for breakie.”

“The thought of food makes me ill.” Sam snapped as he crawled back up, using the cot for a crutch.

“Then you’ll be cheap date.”

“Fuck off.”

“That’s after the date.”

Sam spun around to look at Gene, alarmed, but he was not ready for sophisticated footwork and only fell backwards on the cot as his legs refused to keep up with his brain.

“Not now, Tyler, I need fuel first,” Gene said critically and Sam groaned, rolling off the cot. “Get yerself cleaned up before I throw you in the shower fully dressed. Not that yer pants don’ need a good scrub.” Gene’s eyes focused on Sam’s stained crotch with a pleased expression. Sam waved his arms at Gene angrily and his frustration gave him enough adrenaline to make it to the bath for a shower. Not that the rush lasted longer than it took to get into the shower, and Sam stood under the hot water until he heard Gene coming for him, and swiftly shut it off. Gene stood at the bathroom door watching as Sam slowly climbed out, dripping wet.

“This rate, we’ll be ‘aving pints for breakfast.”

“Shove off. I just need to get dressed.”

“Don’ do it for me.” Gene smiled, raking Sam over with his eyes, and Sam slammed the door on him, refusing to smile until he knew Gene could not see it. The lecherous man did not need encouragement, although Sam admitted to himself – and only to himself – that he adored the attention. It was weird, because as a man in a relationship with a woman, Sam was always careful never to leer or ogle or in any way treat his companion as a sex object, even when the woman in question appeared to go out of her way, via short skirts and low cut tops and amazing flavored lipsticks, to present herself as one. It was a constant battle of willpower that Sam took for granted and now wondered at: maybe his relationships might have worked out a bit better with some lechery thrown in, because as far as Sam was concerned, being visually raked over by Gene was one sure fire way to a hard on. He debated the hard on in question, because he knew he could wank off fast and move on to a more relaxing afternoon, but then he thought of Gene. He opened the door.

“Well, do something.”

Gene looked up from where he was getting a glass of water at the kitchenette sink. His expression turned from surprise to lust in a heart stopping fraction of a second and Sam wondered if the man’s libido was battery operated. His contemplation of this idea was short lived as Gene walked straight into him, kissing him, pulling him in close. Sam nearly stalled, wondering what to do next, but it felt too much like being frigid and that was the last thing he wanted to give Gene that morning, so he threw himself against Gene in an effort to short circuit his own brain. He crawled as Gene lifted and Sam found himself in the odd position of being held up in the air, his legs wrapped around Gene’s waist, as Gene kept walking. His cock was rubbing against Gene’s shirt and Sam whimpered as buttons scraped.

“Um…” Sam broke off, looking around, as Gene carried him into the main room of the flat.

“Not fuckin’ you jus’ yet, calm down.”

“No, just wondering where I’m going to land.”

“Christ you always got to be thinkin’ about it…”

“That’s what I do, and what are you doing? Oh SHIT…” Sam scrambled but it was too late, Gene already had the door open and was walking out into the hall. “Shit shit shit! Gene! Get back into the flat! I’m naked!” Sam hissed, unwrapping his legs and trying to break.

“No one uses the back stairs.” Gene shoved him into a dead-man’s lift and kept walking.

Sam had never used the back stairs and now he knew why: they were dark and dirty and most of the doors to the other floors were locked.

“You break the lock earlier?” Sam said as he watched stairs go by him, looking up at the door to his floor which showed distinct signs of Gene-breakage.

“Yes.”

Sam squirmed. “You are not putting me down on these filthy dirty stairs.” He commanded, and Gene huffed in annoyance.

“I ain’t gonna. Now shut up.” They made it to the basement that Sam never even knew existed. Gene slammed the door shut behind him with his foot and Sam wondered why he was putting up with this insanity.

“Cold.”

“I’m warmin’ ya up.” Gene bent forward and Sam rolled off onto a blanket.

“No! No!” Sam barked, pushing himself up on the hood of the Cortina.

“Yep.” Gene shoved his legs apart and stood in between them, undoing his belt buckle. Sam propped his feet on the ledge of the front bumper and stared at Gene with his best Lord Voldemort impersonation.

“No!”

“What, the blanket too scratchy on your sensitive arse?”

“Oh god, no…Gene!” Sam tried to get off of the car but Gene casually shoved him back. Sam could fight, but naked in a public basement with a hard-on to protect was not exactly an advantage.

“Sam, you got your way, now I get mine.”

“That damn photo of those two guys doing it on a car!” Sam accused, recalling a particular picture that Gene seemed to admire from the stash of blackmail photos they confiscated with their last case.

“Sam, I love my car, and I love you, and now I’m goin’ to fuck you on my car. You should…” Gene stopped as he pulled out his cock and stroked it, causing both men to catch their breath, “…feel…grateful.” He pulled at his erection slowly, working it up, and Sam could not say anything as he watched, his own hard-on starting to bob with pressure. Gene smiled at that, and leaned over and fell on Sam, kissing him, putting a knee on the bumper next to Sam’s foot to brace himself.

He ran his mouth over Sam’s lips and down his neck and to his chest, capturing a nipple and tugging on it with his teeth. Gene had never moved so freely over his body before, and Sam groaned in heat, his hips pushing up, wishing a fiery death for the Cortina but desperate for all of Gene. Gene took off his shirts as he kissed, and soon Sam was able to hold onto Gene’s body with no barrier.

“I’ll always run second to this…ohhh shit…fucking car…” Sam pushed his hands up and down Gene’s back, hard, feeling the skin move under his hands, gasping as Gene’s mouth worked over his chest.

“Yes.” Gene agreed, nodding, then crashed into a full mouth kiss, moving one hand down to adjust their cocks to lie next to each other. They were raw and it was not slick or smooth without any kind of lubricant and the friction was maddening as skin pushed and pulled against skin. Gene pulled up, and looked down on Sam. He did not say anything, just stared at him, them moved to talk to his ear.

“You know what I want.”

Sam could feel Gene’s heart pounding against him like a jackhammer as Gene stroked Sam’s sides lightly, delicately teasing Sam’s skin as he pressed his entire weight down.

“You mine?” Sam asked, wrapping his arms around Gene in a strong, demanding hug. Gene froze then, and remained motionless as he breathed heavily into Sam’s ear, which was torturous enough to make Sam come but he held his arousal down.

“Yours, damnit. Can’t do more to prove it.”

Sam lifted his head so he was whispering in Gene’s ear, and with the blond hair in his face and the huge head bowed down next to him, he imagined that he was pressed into a lion, a lion in man’s shape, a wild predator bending to his own will and answerable to him only, and Sam almost choked before he could speak.

“I want it. I want you…fuck me.”

Something tipped inside of Gene, Sam could feel it in his body as it unwound and recoiled and Gene moved against him with purpose and passion. Sam was nervous and he could not hide that; he had hurt Gene with anal sex, and he knew Gene was going to hurt him. Nothing was going to make that aspect any easier to accept and it was not something he looked forward to, but as Gene rhythmically slid against him, moaning softly, massaging Sam’s arms as if pulling muscle off the bone, Sam knew he would do anything for Gene, anything to turn him on, anything to prove to him how important he was. Sam began working back, showing Gene how strong he was, how much he could take by turning their movements into a slow motion wrestling match on the hood. As their arms fought for dominance and their bodies gave and took in equal parts, Gene lifted his head, his eyes closed, gasping for air. Sam stopped and ran his fingers down Gene’s chest to his cock, teasingly moving lightly and swiftly over nerves.

Gene pushed back so that he was kneeling against the bumper, and looked down. His pants had dropped and he went rummaging in them, pulling a small bottle of out his pocket. Sam reached down and began stroking himself, nervous and wanting something to do to keep himself aroused. Gene watched him with the same expression he used while watching Sam type and Sam thought he would never get through a case file again without a hard-on.

“I’m not one for foreplay, Sam, but I don’ want to rip you up.” Gene poured lube on his fingers and Sam’s eyes went wide, knowing exactly what was happening.

“Well, that is…considerate,” Sam said weakly as Gene leaned down and put his hand between Sam’s legs.

“What? No. Make too much of a mess and you’ll be useless for days…”

“…uh, oh?” Sam furrowed his brows and then tried not to squeal as he felt Gene’s slick fingers massaging his anus, running in circles around the opening.

Gene looked up at him, more hungry and horny than Sam had ever really seen him before. “Sam, I intend to fuck you into the ground every chance I get, and I will get…a lot…of chances…” He pushed his fingers in as he talked, and Sam bucked instinctively, squeezing his cock just to squeeze something. It was not unbearably painful but it was not comfortable and he gasped.

“Fuckin’ girl, hold still.” Gene leaned over and put a hand on Sam’s stomach, which was both a turn on and an impediment as Sam’s body wanted to keep bucking off the hood. Gene held him down as his fingers began stroking, and Sam’s gasps turned to heated groaning as Gene expertly found and caressed his prostrate. Sam started stroking himself again, harder.

“Y’get yerself off too early and you won’t enjoy the fun part.” Gene snickered.

“That…would be the part…where you fuck me into the ground?” Sam felt himself bouncing against the hood as he worked himself and Gene stroked him from the inside out.

“Lift yer goddamn legs.” Gene pulled his fingers out without ceremony, his manner and tone changing from teasing and gentle to fierce in a heartbeat. Sam lifted and Gene moved in, holding his cock like a missile, and Sam suddenly felt passion, not fear or nerves or worry, just heated lust as Gene loomed over him and began pushing his cock into Sam. He did not know, remember or care at what point Gene had lubed himself up, but he was slick and smooth and he moved slowly as he entered, putting one hand back on Sam’s stomach, petting it absently as he watched himself entering Sam. He was completely silent, and did not groan or moan or even breath heavily as he took Sam, and that turned Sam on as much as the sensation of his hot, heavy hand on his abdomen.

“Oh god…Gene…Gene…I can’t…”

“Save it, Sam, not yet.”

“No…I can hold off…I don’t…I can’t be quiet…” Sam pulled himself into a half sit, panicking, jerking his hand off his cock and reaching out for Gene.

Gene leaned in and let Sam grab him, and pushed with his hips as he grabbed Sam’s mouth with his own to silence the yell that came out of him. Sam shoved his mouth onto Gene’s completely, incapable of holding on to his self control for the first time that he could remember, wanting to just let out everything he felt in one long, loud cry. He banged his hips against Gene, his body shaking in pain and arousal, completely lost in himself, oblivious to anything Gene was trying to say or do other than fuck him. Sam wrapped his legs around Gene like a vice, pulling him in, and he felt Gene falter and pull out of the kiss.

“Jesus…” Gene gasped and Sam leaned into him and bit his arm for no reason he could think of other than that Gene’s arm was just the sexiest part within his line of vision. “FUCK!” Gene shoved Sam backwards, hard, so that he slammed onto the hood. Sam was panting and he was whining and as Gene pulled out and pushed back in, he threw his head back and started moaning.

“Jesus…” Gene said to more like a prayer than a curse, and bent down over Sam, smothering him, putting a hand over his mouth to muffle him, and Sam did not care. “Sam…Sam…” Gene whispered as he started pumping hard and Sam looked at him, his eyes blurry and glazed, smiling under Gene’s hand. Gene smiled back, his own eyes dilating and he started grunting and purring, his body vibrating with his thrusts. Sam felt his back arch, felt himself come before he even consciously registered the sensation, yelling Gene’s name into Gene’s hand, deliriously happy and overcome with a sense of utter joy and he knew he was grinning like an idiot as his body pushed up into Gene.

Gene leaned down further and put his chin on the back of his hand over Sam’s mouth, closing his eyes as his orgasm started to well up. Sam could feel the massive power emanating off of the man, could feel the familiar clinching and shudders starting, but it was all new, like this, uncontrolled and unfettered, and Gene breathed in large gasps, his chest pushing back into Sam with every breath. His hips were slamming, now, a furious pounding that Sam rode in oblivious pleasure.

“Sam…I need….Sam…” Gene growled and roiled on top of Sam and then his voice dropped to a whisper just as he climaxed. “…love me…Sam….Sam…”

His hand fell off of Sam’s mouth as he curled into him, and Sam braced himself and held him as Gene’s body simply stopped working, collapsing into a shaking mass that Sam could barely hold on to.

They stilled together, pressed into each other, breathing heavily and covered in sweat they had not realized they worked into. Finally Gene pushed up on his arms and dropped his hips, pulling out of Sam. He looked down, and Sam saw something of the worry he saw once before, and reached up to touch Gene’s lips.

“Yours.”

Gene smiled, then carefully worked backwards. Sam finally looked around and realized the basement was cluttered and filled with junk, except for where the Cortina was parked.

“Bastard.”

Gene nodded once as he pulled up his pants. “Broke the lock to the garage entrance. Spent half the night moving crap.” He said in a professional tone of voice as he zipped and buckled and bent down for his shirt.

“It’s shit like this that got us on film in the first place…”

“Checked.” Gene waved a hand around, and Sam realized that the small casement window was entirely blocked by junk and boxes.

Sam shook his head as he sat up, and the blanket started sliding off the hood with him on it. “Oi!”

Gene pulled him off. “Don’ hurt the paint.”

Sam stood stark naked, hating the car, while Gene buttoned his shirt. “You goin’ to carry me back up?” He asked cynically.

“Hell no, you’d put my back out…”

“I think your back just got plenty of exercise.” Sam glared and Gene looked at him with a mischievous grin. He stepped forward and planted a kiss on Sam’s lips, and pressed the keys into his hand as he did. Then he stepped back.

“You good?”

“Better than good. Or did you miss half of that?”

Gene shook his head, amused, then pointed at the blanket. “Blanket. Car. Backseat. I’ll be back with clothes, and we go eat.”

“What? NO! I need a shower…Gene! Gene!” Sam went to chase him, realized he was naked, went back for the blanket and by that time Gene was out of the garage and going up the stairwell. Sam did not know which horrified him more: the idea of being caught naked trying to sneak back into his flat, or walking in bare feet up the unused and filthy stairwell. He shook the keys in aggravation, wrapped himself in the blanket, then climbed into the front seat. The driver’s seat.

Sam smirked as he imagined the wrestling match Gene was going to have to put out to remove him from it.

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