It happened so fast that Sam should have missed it, standing on the pavement trying not to drip grease on himself from the fish and chips he held while trying to eat. It was the dusk of evening and they had come from a crime scene that was not so much a crime scene as a circus. In a brothel. No one was dead or even missing, just a ‘customer’ who wanted something that was not on the menu and was too adamant about it. Gene threw the man out the back door into Ray’s waiting fists, and then walked off, yelling at Sam that it was past time for dinner while Sam tried to remember if brothels were even legal back then – or back now, as the case may be – and whether he could get Gene to care either way. Gene shouted for him again and Sam rolled his eyes at Chris and followed Gene down the road to the chippie where Gene had not-so-miraculously parked the Cortina. The kid behind them in line nodded at them, giving Sam a thin smile, and Sam just nodded back absently while Gene yelled out their order.
Now, Sam shuffled food and his dignity while Gene wolfed down his own meal with single minded devotion, and that was when Sam nearly missed it. The kid was walking off with his bag of food and casually ran his finger down the side of the car. As he passed Sam and Gene again, he nodded, this time at Gene, who did not nod back. Sam saw the flash of recognition in Gene’s eyes, though, and all the pieces fit together.
“Jesus. Who haven’t you fucked in that car?” Sam threw his food away and walked off, not waiting for an answer. He knew he was a good thirty minute walk from his flat but he was furious and looking forward to the exertion. He considered running the whole way just to work up a sweat, but did not want Gene to think he was running away, because there is a difference, so he cooled his heels and kept to a walk. He was aiming for ‘saunter’ but suspected he was closer to ‘stomping.’
The Cortina pulled up next to him. “You want a virgin, Tyler, you could always go hump Skelton.” Gene snarled out the window at him.
“Not the point, Gene.”
“Then what is? Jealous?”
“No!” Sam stopped and huffed angrily and looked up. “No. Just…never mind.” He shook his head.
“Sam, there were plenty before you…” Gene kept pace with him, nearly driving car up onto the pavement.
“And there’ll be plenty after; right, got it.” Sam shook his head. Not quite where he meant to take the conversation, but then, he had hoped to avoid the whole mess and go to sleep and wake up somewhere peaceful and sensible. Like, World War One or something.
“You think that, do you?” Gene’s voice was low and steady and dangerous. Sam stopped.
“Yeah, actually, I do.”
Gene had stopped the car as well, and now glared at Sam with narrowed eyes. “Get in.”
Sam paused, but gave in. Gene was determined to have this out and Sam did not want their queer ways yelled out at top volume in the middle of a domestic street scene. Gene drove and drove and by the time Sam realized what was going on, they were in the middle of nowhere, somewhere in Lancashire, someplace in the dark, in between other places. Gene pulled off onto what might have been a driveway or a ditch and parked, then unceremoniously got out and got back in, only this time in the back seat. He rolled down the window and lit a cigarette.
“So...” Sam waved his hands around, questioning their location.
“Like it here.”
“Like hell, I’m not one of your quickies you pick up for a ride.”
“No, can’t say that you are.” Gene said softly and flicked the cigarette out the window.
Sam turned back to face forward, completely at a loss. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed again as he stretched out, trying to push the stress out of his body while he considered how to keep the discussion going, or maybe not, although it was too late to hitch hike back into town, and Gene would only pick him up and dump him in the boot anyway. He rubbed his arms and his neck, and then he heard the zipper. “What…” He turned to look at Gene again.
“Yer fuckin’ beautiful,” Gene gasped, grabbing his exposed cock and pumping it like a boxer going at a speed bag, bracing one foot against the far door and the other on the floor boards. He was staring at Sam, his skin flushed and his eyes glossy. “Jesus, Sam, come on…” It was something between begging and commanding, but Sam really did not know what he was supposed to do. Get himself off? Climb in back? He was still flustered, and shook his head. Gene kept pumping himself.
“Not your style, then? Getting’ off in the car…too…too low class for you?” Gene asked as calmly as he could, not stopping, hell bent for leather to get himself off. “Don’ need the Gene Genie, do yeh? Got it all…on yer own…” He ran his thumb over the top of his dick and threw his head back as he groaned, his hips starting to thrust into his manic hand. Sam sat up in shock at the words.
“No! No! It’s not that! I thought…I want…” Sam’s eyes darted down to Gene’s dick and then back up to his eyes. “No. Just, no.”
Gene shuddered as he stopped, breathing hard. “No?” His hand squeezed his cock hard and Sam knew the only effect that could have would be to kill an orgasm.
“No.” Sam turned around and looked straight out the front of the car.
Gene could move like lightening, and Sam always forgot that at the most inopportune moments. Gene crawled up and leaned in between the front seats and mashed into Sam’s lips, his arm curling around Sam’s shoulders and pulling him up. Gene’s knees were on the back seat, and he began pulling at his cock while he kissed Sam. As he worked hard again, he lifted out of the kiss and pressed his head down into the nook of Sam’s neck.
"No one here but us."
"And everyone else you've shagged in this monster."
"You're here now."
"You're being a real bitch, here, Sam." Gene did not move, but began mouthing Sam's neck.
Sam tried to shove him off, and Gene stopped. He stopped as he sometimes did, when he was processing, thinking – Sam took those pauses as something Gene did to collect himself, nothing more than a natural break in the motions, but he knew better now. This was Gene pulling back completely, walling himself off for reasons Sam did not begin to understand, and which Gene never seemed ready to share. Gene was motionless now, breathing heavily into Sam’s neck, and he felt Gene’s desperate need for him like a heavy weight.
“Gene…” Sam brought up a hand and ran it through the long, blond hair he loved to play with. “Taste me. I haven’t been with anyone but you, not in my flat, not in this car. It's all you...”
Sam felt Gene shake himself, and then ran his tongue over Sam’s neck. "Jesus, Sam..."
"But you, you got everyone. Ghosts everywhere. I don't...I can't be a ghost. I need this to be real." Sam stopped talking, stopped moving his fingers, trying not to sound like a girl or sound insane or worse, both.
Gene, as usual, did not answer. He pulled Sam into him for a kiss. Gene dipped in lightly at first, exploring, and Sam’s heart lurched with the realization that Gene really was tasting him. He loved Gene as he rarely loved anyone in his life, and he did not understand why Gene acted like it was a temporary thing.
Sam opened his mouth, angry but determined to prove Gene wrong, to stake his claim. Gene followed him in and it was an open, sloppy kiss, more like mutual licking, and Sam was surprised as Gene kept at it. He moved out of Sam’s mouth along his jaw, nibbling and chewing and licking as if Sam was covered in syrup. He got to Sam’s ear and it was a merciless attack, Gene sucking and penetrating it with his tongue, finally driving Sam to bucking against the seat and moaning in low, throaty sounds. Sam registered the motions of Gene stroking himself again, and he wanted to do something in answer, but he refused to touch himself. It was, somehow, cliché and cheap, and probably something Gene asked guys -- "boys" -- to do for him, perform and get off right here in this seat. Nothing felt right, nothing felt like something Gene would not have done before in his car, so he let Gene assault his ear and kept his hands running through Gene’s hair while he tried to...figure this out.
“Jealous, Sam. That's all.” Gene said when he paused, and Sam sighed and closed his eyes because it was true. He just hated it.
“Yeah…” Sam turned slightly in the seat and reached back with one hand, wrapping it around Gene’s own hand that was clutching his dick.
“How far to do I have to go?" Gene asked, his voice husky and uncertain, and Sam kissed him as they began stroking Gene’s cock together. Gene pulled off of the kiss, groaning, and moved back to Sam’s ear, but just breathed into it as they worked him up. Sam closed his eyes and felt Gene's hand creep over his hip, his long fingers, dancing over his inner thigh. "Buy you flowers? A ring? Put you in a white dress and..."
“Gene, don’t fuck with me…”Sam growled.
Gene snorted, amused, rubbing his hand over Sam’s re-emergent erection. Sam rolled his eyes and then closed them again as Gene’s ministrations began to register with his brain. He felt Gene’s mouth at his ear, again, and prepared himself for the onslaught, but it did not arrive. “Not fucking with you. I’m tired of fuckin’, Sam, I’ve been doing it for years…” Gene whispered.
Sam gave out small gasps as Gene kept working on his cock through his pants.
“Sam…” Gene held his breath for a moment, grinding his hand down on Sam. “Bloody ponce…get in the damn back seat and let me make love to you.”
Foreign words, from Gene. It was always about fucking or screwing or ‘doing it’ or more colorful euphemisms, and Sam opened his eyes in surprise as Gene leaned back again, dragging on Sam’s arm. He crawled back, a little uncertain of what Gene defined as ‘making love’ that they might not have possibly done yet. Gene pulled him back to lay on top of him. Sam instinctively went to unbutton Gene’s shirt but Gene stopped him, holding both hands in his own, and kissed him. It was a warm up kiss, the slow, patient kisses that Gene gave him when they both knew they had time and energy to go for a while, which was, unfortunately, not too often.
There was no desperation and no impatience. Gene let Sam lead sometimes and then took over, pulling them together with his strength, then letting go as Sam explored his body. Gene determinedly kept his hands off of Sam’s cock, instead languidly touching every bit of exposed skin he could reach as he peeled their clothes off of them. Outside it was now night time, and without the streetlights of civilization to temper the inky darkness around them, the interior of the car sunk into a moody calm.
“What do you want?” Gene asked, running his hands up and down Sam’s flank as they sprawled awkwardly over the seat, crumpled up together.
Sam thought about ‘blowjob’, which he got rarely, but something else came to mind.
“How many others you fucked in this car?”
Gene froze, repelled by the question. “This isn't about that.”
Gene looked away, disappointment written over his features, even as he arranged himself not to show it. “This was something else, Sam.” Gene sighed and started pushing him off. Sam lunged and pulled them together, chests pressing.
“Answer the damn question.”
“…I don’t know. Don’t keep a score card.” Gene let his arms fall loosely over Sam, not as an embrace, but a concession.
Sam pulled his face around to force him to look at him. “Me. I want to be the only one in this car. When you look at this damn car, I want you to think of me. I don’ really care about how many, I just care about who you think of when you think of fucking in this car. I want that to be ME. So I don’t care how you did it with them, I want you to do that with me, so when you think of it, it’s not anyone else on your dick, it’s ME.”
Gene stared at him, thinking, then shifted to sit in the middle of the back seat, each knee pressed into the back of the front seats, then pulled Sam up onto his lap. He reached to the side and dug into his pockets, pulling out a small bottle of lube, and Sam’s mind fluttered with the thought that Gene had it with him, that Gene was always ready for something, with someone.
“You're always ready.” Sam eyed the bottle as he adjusted his legs, bent over with the back of his head pressing into the roof. He did not feel very romantic, and hated the car more than ever.
“Never know, with you. Always get me into tight spots.” Gene grinned as he opened the bottle and poured it onto himself, his hands and his cock. Sam drifted down to settle on Gene’s thighs as Gene prepared himself, then reached under Sam, gently running a finger around his entrance. “Anyway, never know when you'll find a boy…” Gene said, closing his eyes as he felt his way inside of Sam.
“Damnit, I’m not…” Sam started but gasped at the sensation of Gene’s long fingers pushing up into him. “Boy…not…oh god…” His hips rolled and he heard Gene give a short laugh. He moved his fingers gently, much more slowly than usual, and finally opened his eyes to look up at Sam, his long lashes fluttering as he smiled.
“Beautiful…” Gene whispered, and Sam growled. Gene thrust his hand up hard, causing Sam to buck. “Yours, Sam, no one else. I’m your man.”
Sam gasped, and Gene stopped, looking at him. “I’m your man.”
Gene grunted in acknowledgment and began thrusting his hand so his fingers plunged in and out of Sam, who groaned. It was quiet and hot as the windows steamed up, and Sam whined when Gene pulled out his fingers. As he shifted, Sam studied him, feeling the flush and arousal.
“A lot, like this?” Sam asked quietly
“No, only the best,” Gene said gruffly, looking down between his legs as he used one hand to hold himself and the other to push Sam into place. Sam blushed at that and smiled despite himself. He leaned back a little, putting his arms against the front seats to prop himself, as Gene started to guide his cock into him. This was familiar now, and they had a routine to it which kept them both aroused, but Gene was going very, very slowly about it. He brought his other hand up and began stroking Sam’s cock in a steady, light touch, and Sam groaned as he felt himself filling up. When Gene was nearly fully inserted, Sam gave a hard snap of his hips to drive him in all the way and Gene snorted in surprise. He moved to brace his hands on Gene's shoulders and rolled his hips, but felt Gene's hands run slowly up his thighs to stop him.
"Stay, Sam, just...stay right here..." Gene moaned the words and shifted under him, and then Sam felt Gene push him up a bit to brace himself on his own legs. Sam tried to keep still as Gene settled, then began the work of fucking, his feet set heavily on the floorboards, his hands throttling Sam's legs, his hips jerking up and down while he grimaced in concentration. Gene finally got a rhythm and was pushing and pulling his cock in and out steadily, and went back to stroking Sam lightly with one hand. Gene's expression relaxed as they became slick with sweat and he looked up at Sam with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He let go of Sam's cock and pulled Sam's right hand down from his shoulder.
"Do yourself. Do it."
Sam nodded and began stroking himself in time to Gene's measured thrusts. Gene's hand sunk down between them to lightly hold and tease Sam's balls, and Sam tried to fall forward from the sensation overload. His stroke faltered as Gene shoved him back into position.
"Don't stop. Want you to come, shoot yourself all over me. Mark me, Sam, come on..."
"FUCK!" Sam gasped in surprise and came hard, his fingers clutching at his cock, his eyes wide open to the darkness around them. Gene chuckled and stopped for a moment, slowly running his warm hands over Sam's chest and sides, calming him down while he struggled for air. Sam rolled his head, all tension gone, and felt small motions inside of him again as Gene began pistoning, picking up his pace the faster Sam recovered. Sam looked down at him to find that Gene was grinning. Sam analyzed that for a second, taking him in, before he figured out what was wrong: Gene was not grinning, he was smiling. Just smiling, uninhibited and unguarded, and Sam started smiling back.
“What?” Gene snapped playfully, bouncing Sam on him.
“I think every time I get in this damn car, now, I’m going to think of you like this,” Sam said, smiling broadly, then groaning as Gene thrust up into him with a power stroke.Gene shifted his hands on Sam's hips, pushing his thumbs into the groove where thigh met hip, digging in to hold Sam down. Sam's hands slipped off of Gene's sweaty shoulders and he shifted to one side, landing on his forearm against the back of the seat, pressing his head down against Gene's.
“That makes two of us, love.” Gene was still smiling, Sam could feel it as he picked up his pace, holding Sam up by his hips, the hammering motions of his body causing the car to shake.
“…So I’m your ‘love’ now?” Sam laughed, trying not to gasp or cry out too loudly as he clutched the seats for stability.
“Forever, Sam…God damn me…I love you…no one else, Sam...love you…” Gene disappeared into his orgasm, straining and pounding against Sam, who bit his lip in exertion and the feeling of Gene inside him.