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LOMFic - Wine and Candles Part 3 - dorsetgirl
May 16th, 2008
11:53 am
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LOMFic - Wine and Candles Part 3

Title: Wine and Candles Part 3

Author: DorsetGirl

Fandom: Life on Mars

Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or their universe. BBC/Kudos do. I’m not making any money out of this.

Rating: Maybe Blue Cortina

Word Count: 1329

Pairing: Sam/Gene

Spoilers: None.

Summary: Gene wants to take a good look first.

Author’s Note: I didn’t know Gene was going to take it so slowly; I thought this part would, erm, finish things off. I’m sure he’ll get there, though, just no promises as to when. Previously posted to Lifein1973.


Part 1   Part 2



Wine and Candles, Part 3


And really, it was no different from a thousand other times Gene had stood so close he could almost feel their hearts beating together, but this time it was different. The air between them vibrated as Gene looked him straight in the eye. “Do you want this, Sam? And you know I’m not talking about just a quick shag. Will you let me look after you? And will you look after me, if I need you to?”


Sam found himself leaning in to close the gap between them.


“Yes. Yes, I want this,” he said softly. “I will”.



Gene let out the breath he had known only too well he was holding; he knew Tyler would go for the shag, no problem, who wouldn’t want the Gene Genie in their bed, but he hadn’t been sure about the rest of it. Commitment.


Still couldn’t be sure the little ponce had understood what he was signing up for of course, but this would do for now. Sam was a thinky little bastard, he wouldn’t have said yes without meaning something by it. In the meantime, he was stood there looking adorable; it was something he seemed able to do without thinking about it. No, hold on, he was thinking about it.


Gene saw the first threads of self-consciousness weave their strands across Sam’s features and decided to get down to business before Sam started putting up barriers. He put his hands up to Sam’s face and stood for a moment longer, taking in with every nerve ending the feeling of Sam’s skin against his, smooth and warm and Sam. He closed his eyes and breathed gently, enjoying the aromas of Sam’s soap, shampoo, deodorant. God, no wonder he didn’t wear aftershave, he had enough poncy scents to start a flower shop.


Finally, eyes still closed, fingers still tingling, he leaned forward and touched his lips gently to Sam’s. Oh God. Soft, warm, imagined so long, just – beautiful. He let the tip of his tongue push gently, Sam’s lips opened in response and he was in. His tongue inside the mouth he’d been dreaming of since he’d found this gorgeous man strutting about his – his – outer office.


Moving his hands at last from Sam’s face, he put his arms around Sam and sighed against his mouth. Then, coming out of the kiss, he buried his face briefly in Sam’s neck, nipping gently at the soft skin under the jawline. Daft sod had razor cuts there as usual, probably thinking too hard while he shaved, staring at himself in the mirror.


Standing back for a moment, he stroked a hand round Sam’s neck, trailing his forefinger along the collar bone and dipping into the V of the open shirt. When had that become allowed, he wondered, not caring about the answer. Sam still had his eyes closed, standing like a statue to be admired, so Gene kissed his eyelids before saying softly “Oy, Gladys. You in there?” as he kissed his lips again.


Sam opened his eyes and smiled. “You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this, Gene. And now – I can’t believe it.”


“Believe it, Sam. I’m here to stay. If you’ll have me.” Brisk again momentarily, Gene stood back and spoke seriously. “I don’t want chapter and verse, Sam, but I need to know - have you done this before? Have you been with a man? ’Cos I don’t want to hurt you; I need to know from the start where we’re going today and how careful I’ve got to be. I don’t want to lose control and hurt you, so I have to know what we can do today.”


Sam’s face was calm as he said “It’s OK, Gene, I’ve done it before. Both ways round, just not very often. I never ... I never really found anyone I wanted before, I just ... it was just experimenting, that’s all, didn’t matter.”


“No need to apologise Sam, you didn’t know you were waiting for me.”


Sam laughed, his face breaking up into glowing curves and shadows. He stepped away from Gene. “Just a minute, I’d best put the candles out before the force of your ego knocks ‘em all over. Don’t want the place coming down around our ears.”


Sam doused all the candles and visibly stopped himself from clearing away the plates before draining his wine glass. Sharing the last two inches in the bottle between the two glasses he passed one to Gene and drained his own again before saying “Look, I’m not a shrinking virgin, OK? I’d like you to be careful, I really don’t get off on violence and injury, but just do what you want, all right, just do what feels right.”


Feeling he was losing some of the initiative here, Sam being his usual talky self and Gene’s arrogant deputy to boot, Gene drained his own glass and grabbed Sam’s hand to lead him to the bedroom. He’d thought about this for so long, but now it was about to happen for real he was having to work hard at staying focussed enough to make it happen, rather than losing himself in the familiar fantasy.


Aroused though he was – heart beating faster than usual, hands trembling, knees as well, to be honest – Gene was clear-headed enough to guess that Sam wasn’t as experienced as he could have been. Well, that was fine, he hadn’t had a chance to pick up too many bad habits; he could learn from an expert.


Gene had lost count of how many times he’d done this; mainly in his younger days, and most of them destined to remain nameless, but since Sam had joined the department there had been no-one to measure up and so there had been, to put it bluntly, no-one. Not that he’d lost his touch, oh no. There was a new PC downstairs who was definitely interested, but even without the counter-attraction of Sam he’d never believed in dirtying his own doorstep. Far too risky.


And meanwhile here was Sam, not quite panting, not quite ready to forget who he was and why he wanted to talk about it, but definitely waiting for the Gene Genie to make a move, so he did. “Lie down, Sam. I want to have a proper look at you.” As he knelt on the bed looking down, he was torn between opening the shirt slowly, exalting in his first proper view of Sam’s body, or tearing open Sam’s trousers and getting their cocks together as quickly as possible.


Finesse, for God’s sake, finesse. Gentle firmness. Get him really wanting it, get him worked up and panting and writhing; begging, even. He steadied his own breathing determinedly and brushed a hand lightly up Sam’s thigh and across his zip, circling for a moment as Sam started to harden, then moving both hands up to the shirt buttons. Please God, today of all days, let him not be wearing one of those stupid white vests like a refugee from 1940.


Virtue is its own reward, he thought, pleased. He stared down at the beautiful body of his cocksure DI, smoothing the shirt aside to run his hands across Sam’s chest and up to his shoulders, thumbs caressing the neat brown nipples. He stroked his way down Sam’s sides and ran his fingers lightly over the taut abdomen, reflexively trying to suck in his own rather softer tummy as he did so.


Sam must have seen the movement of the muscles through his shirt, and he smiled. “You’re gorgeous, Gene, don’t worry about that.” He caught Gene’s wrists tightly, taking him by surprise, and moved his hands against his own crotch for a moment before sitting up and moving onto his knees next to Gene, still holding both wrists and pushing lightly.


Gene pushed straight back; he hadn’t finished looking yet, he wasn’t ready to lie down. Freeing his hands, he unbuttoned his own shirt quickly and moved himself so he could be skin to skin with Sam, holding him tight. He knew he couldn’t continue to play this so slowly if he wanted to stay in control, but he still wasn’t sure how far to take things this first time. Meanwhile, Sam wasn’t the sort to lie passively waiting while he thought about it.


That tickled his sense of humour and he nearly choked himself trying not to laugh out loud at the idea of Sam Tyler passively waiting and Gene Hunt trying to analyse things.


Still smiling to himself, he leaned forward to undo Sam’s trousers.



Continued in Part 4

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