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Life on Mars Fic - Real Men Don't - dorsetgirl
July 23rd, 2007
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Life on Mars Fic - Real Men Don't

Title: Real Men Don’t ... Do They?  Part 4a / 4

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: This section: NC-17 for swearing and sexual references. No torture, no horror, no Doctor Who.

Pairing: Gene/Sam

Spoiler: Part 3 has a Major spoiler for Series 1 Episode 5. Nothing else.

Word Count: approx 15,650 in total. This section 5,020 words, split into two sections.

Summary: It takes Gene and Sam a long time to work out what we’ve always known.

A/N: This is the first story I ever wrote, but it’s taken a long time to complete. The first story I posted, "What Do Girls Do?", started off as the sex scene for this story, but it didn’t fit. This story might be described as “Relationship Without Plot”. The district of Morton and the Red Lion are my own invention.

Thanks: Lots of thanks to Galacticowl and to Jools at TRA, who both read various scenes and provided suggestions and lots of encouragement, so I felt it was worth finishing the job. Also to Loz who despite preparing for her new job found time be the first person to read the whole thing through and provide some very positive feedback and some useful lessons in style. And finally to the fantastic Jayb111 who did a very thorough and much appreciated beta job.


Follows on from Part 1 , Part 2 and Part 3.





Real Men Don’t....Do They?



Chapter 4a


As Sam closed the door, silence hung in the air, waiting. Sam turned to look at Gene, who had moved to the other side of the room and was looking at the floor.


This man is my senior officer, Sam thought. It’s 1973; he’s a Neanderthal homophobe; and I just snogged him – be honest, I tried to grope him - in the alley outside my own front door. Shoot me now.


On the plus side though: Gene hadn’t stormed out of the club the moment they’d arrived; Sam had caught Gene staring at his admittedly cute arse as they left the club; and most of all, out there in the alley, Gene had been rock hard against him, breathless and panting.


As the atmosphere thickened to curdled milk, Sam weighed the options. Gene stood at the far side of the table still refusing to meet his eye. Sam knew he was never going to say “Take me, I’m yours”, but on the other hand he hadn’t said “It never happened, Tyler” and stalked out. From a man of the Guv’s legendary directness, that was as good as a ‘yes’, Sam decided.


Sam took a tentative step towards Gene, drawing his eye at last, then he moved forward very slowly, eyes locked on Gene’s, until they were close enough to touch.


Sam looked at Gene, the air between them a last barrier, then he took the final step, touching his lips lightly to Gene’s and pressing his body against Gene’s all the way down. Remembering what had happened the last time he tried this, he held his breath as he moved his tongue gently into Gene’s mouth - ah yes, the taste - and, putting his arms round Gene, kissed him.


He felt Gene tense every muscle and pull back. Sam looked into Gene’s eyes; his pupils were dilated and his breathing was uneven. After a long moment, Gene groaned and covered Sam’s mouth with his own. Sam arched his hips towards Gene, kissing him again before muttering “Gene... oh God, Gene”. Sam started undoing Gene’s shirt buttons then Gene tore off Sam’s jacket and kicked off his own shoes. Sam undid his belt and trousers and pushed them down, and did the same for Gene, taking him by surprise enough to push him down onto the bed.


Before Gene could react, Sam got a hand inside his briefs, feeling for his cock. Gene grunted “Gerroff me, I’m not a girl”. Pulling himself out from underneath, he shoved Sam down onto the mattress. Breathing hard, he looked into Sam’s eyes for a moment, and Sam could read the shock mirrored in his own. Gene lowered his mouth to Sam’s and kissed him, his tongue doing a slow dance with Sam’s. He moved a hand to the back of Sam’s neck, stroking up through the short hair to hold him tight.


Sam managed to get himself out of his trousers, and finally got a hand to Gene’s cock which was hard and proud, pushing the briefs aside. Gene tried to pull away, but Sam got an arm round his back, and held him tight as he started to stroke Gene’s silky length, slowly and gently at first, then harder, imagining it was his own, moving his own hips in time. Harder and harder, faster and faster, until Gene opened his eyes and gasped “Oh Christ, Sam Sam Sam”.


The sound brought Sam right to the edge. He thrust himself against his own hand still wrapped round Gene’s cock, and breathed “Oh God Gene” as he started to come. Looking into Gene’s eyes as they moved together he gave him the final strokes, holding him close as Gene finally came with a cry that was nearer despair than ecstasy.



Gene had barely finished pumping into Sam’s hand before he was scrabbling towards the edge of the bed, taking Sam completely by surprise. As Sam lay back exhausted, he saw with shock and tearing disappointment that Gene was moving towards his clothes, abandoned on the floor only minutes earlier. He had his Y-fronts straightened before Sam could move, and by the time Sam managed to sit up he was pulling up his trousers.


In a panic, Sam knelt up and reached out to Gene. “Gene, what are you doing, you’re not going? Gene?” Getting no response, he dropped his hands, absently wiping their combined come onto the sheet. “Gene, please, don’t do this; don’t rush off ... We need to talk - wasn’t it good? Didn’t you like it? I mean, I know it was a bit quick, but I thought we...”


“Yes I did bloody like it and I shouldn’t have, all right? Gene Hunt is not a poof, and coppers do not do this sort of thing”. Gene glared at Sam as he zipped up his trousers with an air of finality. “Men do not do this sort of thing. Not real men.”


“Gene, please, sit down a minute – no it’s OK, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but please hear me out, don’t just go.” Sam spoke as calmly and sincerely as he could manage, given that he was still gasping for breath. How Gene could move so fast straight afterwards he didn’t know. He hadn’t even stopped to wipe himself.


“This has taken me completely by surprise too, I never imagined I would ...you would ...well, any man.” Sam swallowed, and tried again. “I never imagined I would ever be attracted to a man, it’s simply never happened before. But it has happened Gene, and ...I don’t regret it, I couldn’t ever wish this hadn’t happened ...with you, I mean”


“Well I do”, retorted Gene bitterly, turning away to pick up his shirt. “I wish this had never ‘appened, I don’t know why it did ‘appen, but I do know it won’t ever ‘appen again. And we won’t ever talk about it again.” He put the shirt on and started doing up the buttons.


“Gene, please sit down a minute, think about this. It did happen, you wanted it as much as I did, it was something we did. We, Gene. Not just me”.


Gene stopped dead; thought for a moment then sat down on the edge of the bed, away from Sam. His first panic and self-disgust seemed to be fading slightly as he started to calm down. He looked at Sam, who had nothing of his usual arrogance about him now. “OK, I did want it, I admit that. I enjoyed it, and I shouldn’t have, it’s not right for a man. Skinny little bloke like you maybe, but not a proper man.”


“Hey!” said Sam indignantly, forgetting the seriousness of the position for a moment.


“You name me one real man that likes it with men,” Gene challenged. “You can’t, can you? ‘Cos it doesn’t happen.”


“Rock Hudson.” said Sam, promptly. “In your dreams, Dorothy,” Gene snorted. “Straight up ...er, honestly Guv, Rock Hudson”. Sam laughed at the incredulous look on Gene’s face.  “I don’t believe it,” Gene said flatly.


“All right then, James Dean” Sam proposed. “Rubbish” said Gene. “He wasn’t a real man anyway, just a pretty boy.” “He’d be the same age as you Guv” said Sam, slyly.


“I said real men, Tyler!”


“OK, final offer - Errol Flynn,” Sam said. Against his will, Gene burst out laughing. “Oh, now you are joking me.”


Sam smiled. “I think I’ve made my point Guv. OK, everyone ‘knows’ that those guys are ‘proper men’. But one day the world’s gonna find out that those real men preferred men. Even in 1973 people know that you can be a proper man and still go to bed with another man.” Serious again now, Sam spoke intensely, desperate to convince. “You are a real man, Gene, nothing will ever change that. You’re still who you are, who you were, before ...” Sam gestured at the tangled bedsheets.


He risked moving closer to Gene, looking deeply into those eyes, the same look that had unwittingly started this, hours ago in the restaurant. He shivered, wishing for a duvet to wrap round his shoulders.


Gene looked straight back at him. “Real men don’t fuck other men, Tyler. I can’t be a real man and do this, it doesn’t happen. And don’t list me any more bloody film actors, ‘cos I’ll not believe it”.


“OK then, if that’s the case: which is more important to you Gene? Being a real man, at all costs? Keeping up that front all the time? Passing out on people’s sofas rather than going home alone yet again? ‘Cos there’s no woman you want to go home with,” Sam asked softly. “Is there?”


“Or ‘doing this’ – following your heart, your gut instinct if you like, and letting a little human company into your life? Which are you going to choose Gene? ‘Cos I hope,” Sam stopped a moment to assess his own feelings. “I really hope you choose ‘this’ ... choose ...me”.


Gene stood up, tie in hand, and looked down at Sam. As ever, Sam could see none of Gene’s thoughts that Gene didn’t want him to. “Sam. I’m a copper. A senior copper. And a good one even if I don’t always stop and think how my Aunt Mabel would do things. I can’t do this, I’d lose my job. And so would you”. He started to thread the tie under his collar.


Sam panicked as he struggled to think – should he stand up, go face to face with the man? Should he stay here, submissive? He couldn’t think in his normal logical way through the best manoeuvres, the most effective way to achieve his goal. This was too important, he couldn’t – wouldn’t – approach it simply as a problem to be solved. He took a deep breath and started to speak, not thinking it out first, but just saying what came into his head. From his heart.


“Gene, where I ..., in Hyde, there are too many people who have given up everything for the job; everything they are. They work long hours, they’re always first in the office, last to leave, every day. They have no social life. They’re always looking for promotion, always first to volunteer, watching their back every second. Scared to take time off. Forever looking over their shoulder.”


“And you know what? When they get there, when they finally get that promotion they’ve worked so hard for, they find it’s not worth it, ‘cos they’re just an empty shell with nothing left inside. They’ve got nothing. They feel nothing. They are ...nothing.”


“Trust me Gene: I’ve seen it. Shit, I’ve done it. Ironed the bloody t-shirt.”


Sam stopped for a moment, thinking again of Maya’s words, then stood up, desperate to explain. He reached a hand out towards Gene then thought better of it. “But you don’t have to do that Guv, that’s something that’s better here. You’re still real people here, not ...robots. You can still enjoy yourself without having to think of the job first, all the time.”


Unconsciously, he moved closer to Gene before continuing. “Cos once you start giving up your life – all the things that make it a life, Gene – you’ve lost yourself. And once you’ve lost yourself, nothing is worth it, not the job, nothing. Don’t do that to yourself Gene, please.”


Gene stood as still as a statue, looking at Sam’s earnest face. His tie still hung half tied. His face showed no expression at all.


“Look, Guv. If you don’t want me, I ...” Sam’s voice wobbled as the breath stuck in his throat. “If you don’t want me I’ll accept that, I promise I won’t make any trouble ... but don’t ignore who you really are, what you really need.  I’m begging you, Gene.”


* * *


Gene looked at him, still standing too close for comfort. “I don’t know who I really am, Tyler. What I really need. Thought I did, but now... I don’t know what you’ve done to me, you and your fancy Hyde ways, but ...” he took a deep breath, “I do want you and that’s something I am not happy about, not happy at all. This is not who Gene Hunt is, not who I thought he was anyway. I am not a nancy boy; I do not want  to go with a man.”


He stopped, a smile half forming on his lips. “OK, I just did. But that was...” He stepped back, out of the danger zone, away from that trembling, enticing mouth, his own frown back in place. “And I’m not in charge here, you are, and I don’t like that.”


”I feel like I’m 18 again, working up the courage to kiss Mary Chesterman round the back of Wyethorpe Dance Hall on my first weekend home from basic training.” Gene looked at the floor as he said, harshly ”You’ve got power over me now, Sam, and that scares the shit out of me.” He raised his face again, eyes hard as he waited for Sam’s response.


“No. No, Gene, I haven’t got power over you, and I don’t want to have.” Sam protested immediately. He stopped again. “I love you” he said hesitantly, surprised at himself. “I really do”.


Gene’s eyebrows shot up. “Christ, Sam, no need to get soppy. We’ve only known each other five minutes.”


He sighed, still looking at Sam, then took the tie off again. “One thing I do know is, I’m bloody freezing to death standing around talking in this little icebox of yours.”


He stood irresolute a moment more, then finally shrugged his shoulders and sat down again on the bed. Sam hesitated before sitting down next to him, then, lifting the covers, he got back into the bed and moved over to give Gene room. Gene lay down slightly awkwardly next to Sam, still in his shirt and trousers, being careful not to touch. “I don’t know about this. It’s still wrong”. He lay tensely waiting as he looked at Sam out of the corners of his eyes, his face turned up to the ceiling.


* * *


Sam turned onto his side to look at Gene. “Gene, it’s not wrong, I promise you. Look, this is new to both of us; there’s no need to rush anything. Like you say, we’ve only known each other five minutes; we can just see how we go – no pressure.” He watched Gene for a moment, desperate to know how Gene was taking this; seeing fear, uncertainty, even anger flit across his face. Resignation seemed to be uppermost, which wasn’t so good, but then again maybe it wasn’t so bad either.


Sam watched a moment longer, then risked leaning over to give Gene a light peck on the cheek; Gene’s mouth moved briefly into the smallest of smiles. He turned his face slightly towards Sam and looked into his eyes, still uncertain. Sam simply smiled and said “It’s late; we should sleep now, Gene”. He lay down again on his back, careful not to crowd Gene, and tentatively reached out a hand to touch his fingers. After a moment, he sensed Gene relax a little, and felt his fingers squeezed lightly.


Sam lay still for a few minutes longer, marvelling at how his life had changed over just a few days. Only two days ago Gene and he had both envied the other’s supposed life-style, but the truth was they had both been so lonely they had felt humiliated to admit it. And now...well, at the very least now he had hope. Hope that Gene would still be there in the morning. Eventually, feeling calmer, he curled up on his side facing Gene and finally let himself drift, surprised at how happy and secure he felt here next to this big, violent, argumentative man.


* * *


As Sam’s breathing slowed, Gene lay on his back thinking of lighting a cigarette, then wished he hadn’t as it reminded him of other times. How could such different sex trigger the same stupid habits? Lacking the energy to reach out for the packet, and realising that Tyler probably wouldn’t allow smoking in bed anyway, he decided not to bother. He was warm and comfortable where he was and, surprisingly, had no desire to move away.


Sam muttered in his sleep, gradually moving closer to Gene’s comforting, warm body until he was touching Gene with his forehead, arms and drawn-up knees. Gene lay still, enjoying the feeling of having a warm, naked body close to his again, even if it was a bit more finely-muscled than he was used to.


Sam gradually relaxed and stretched out until he had one leg next to Gene’s, touching it warmly from ankle to groin, and the other in between Gene’s, knee against thigh. His left arm lay lightly on Gene’s chest. Wishing he hadn’t put his trousers on again, and smiling at himself for being so soft, Gene touched the younger man’s lips gently with his own and watched him for a while.


As Sam slept, his normally tense and ever-changing face finally relaxed completely. Gene kissed him lightly on the forehead. “Night night Sam, see you in the morning”. Sam smiled in his sleep, “Gene”.


As his own eyes started to close, Gene thought back over the evening. How had he not seen this coming? Was there a single moment at which they had chosen this, or had it chosen them? He still couldn’t believe this was happening to him, Gene Hunt. Had he really wanted this as much as Tyler had?


Real men don’t agonise, he finally thought, and real men don’t analyse things to bloody death either. Finally he let himself sleep, astonished at how warm and contented he felt here in this creaky bed with his pedantic and insubordinate DI.



Waking early the next morning, Gene turned and looked at Sam, still fast asleep next to him. Given his ambivalence last night it felt surprisingly good to know he could claim some credit for Sam being so relaxed.


He hadn’t really come to any conclusions before he went to sleep last night, he realised. Here he was, in a position he would never have predicted in a thousand years and any minute now – he just knew it – Sam was going to wake up and want to talk about it. Gene’s view on that sort of talking was that life was too bloody short, so it came down to making a decision now, before Sam got going.


He could just leave now, of course, go straight to work, avoid the whole issue. But that wouldn’t work, would it? He’d get the abandoned puppy look from Tyler all day if he did that. He’d cancel his day off specially. Either that or the sulks. Or – even worse – the little git would spend the whole day manoeuvring for “a quiet word”. And no way was Gene Hunt going to have that sort of a quiet word in the office.


So, unless he really wanted to waste a couple of hours talking about it, he had to make a decision, right now. It was obvious which way Sam would jump. After all his persuasion last night, his reassuring and entreating – shit, had Sam actually used the L-word last night? he had, hadn’t he? - he wasn’t going to wake up and say it had all been a mistake.


It was up to Gene to decide. Gene had to choose whether he was going to silently accept Sam’s unexpected declaration, or simply choke him off before he got going about it. Because Sam was going to remember laying himself open like that, and knowing him he’d be worrying about it as soon as he woke up. He’d be panicking, desperate to know what Gene was going to do with the information.


Which, bloody hell, brought Gene right back to the sodding question he’d been trying to avoid ever since last night. He looked again at Sam, still deeply asleep; at the small round face so trusting and smooth, and so close to Gene’s; the sweet, neat mouth; the full - almost rosebud - lips, pouting even in sleep; the absurdly short hair like a Boy Scout’s. Sam looked as if he should be cuddling a teddy bear instead of lying contentedly asleep next to a rough, work-hardened DCI. It crossed Gene’s mind that if he was going to switch to blokes, at least he’d scored himself a pretty one.


Hold on, he thought, so does that mean...? As he worked through the implications of that conclusion, he straightened his shoulders and eased the leg that had been trapped under Sam’s all night. The movement made Sam twitch; Gene stilled, and Sam pulled the blankets around himself, settling onto his back. His face was turned towards Gene, and his right side pressed tight against him.


Gene propped himself up on his elbow, looking down at Sam, enjoying the view; enjoying the warmth. So that was a decision then. He slipped his trousers off carefully, causing Sam to move again slightly, and then he lay back down next to Sam with a smile, closing his eyes while he waited for Sam to join the day.


* * *


Sam woke up to unusual warmth down his right side, and a chill all down his left. Shifting slightly, he grinned in relief as he realised Gene was still there. Still lying right next to him, taking up most of the tiny bed. He’d been afraid that the Guv would slip out in the middle of the night while Sam was sleeping. “Thought about it, Sammy-boy”, said Gene suddenly, making him jump. “Sneaking out I mean – can read you like a book.” He smiled at Sam, then sat up. He picked up his cigarettes from the bedside table, removing one before turning back towards Sam. The smile was replaced by a more serious look as he said “I know it looks like I’m not the bloke I thought I was all these years, but I do know I’m not the sort who buggers off without even leaving a phone number!”


Sam moved closer so that he was no longer clinging to the edge of the bed. Without thinking, he rotated his hips, pressing his morning erection warmly into Gene’s thigh. Realising what he’d done, but resolving to ignore it for now, Sam looked up at Gene and smiled as he said “Don’t worry Guv, it’s not like I don’t know where to find you, is it?” He paused before adding, bravely “I am glad you’re still here though, didn’t think you would be if I’m honest.” Gene looked away to light the cigarette as he said “Told you, didn’t I. I may be a hard bastard, but I’m not a runner.”


Sam smiled, then faltered as he remembered an important detail. Shit. He hadn’t, had he? He had. The words had burst into his head fully formed, and he’d just blurted them straight out, “I love you”. Out loud. All that careful reasoning and persuasion, from the heart though it was, and then to be so stupid. There’s a good reason for keeping your feelings locked away, he thought. You don’t know what they’re going to do if you let them out. Fuck.


Mortified, Sam moved away from Gene slightly, and covered himself. He could feel the fear twitching at his eye muscles, dragging at his mouth. Should he tell Gene to ignore it? Or would it be best just not to mention it? Perhaps Gene would have forgotten, or just decided not to take any notice. He couldn’t ask. But he couldn’t just leave it like this, he had to know what was going on in Gene’s head.


He looked up at Gene, completely forgetting to control the expressions playing over his own face, as he tried to read Gene’s. Almost a smile, definitely. Was that good? Or was the Guv trying not to laugh? Sam took a deep breath before continuing, nervous, but determined to confront the issue. “Gene, what happens now? Are you OK with this? I mean... it’s not exactly what we had in mind, is it?”


Gene’s face became impossible to read as he remained silent for a moment. Then he said “Truth, Sam? I don’t know. I’m not not OK.” He reached out to the table and stubbed out the cigarette. “You’re right though, we skipped a few stages, didn’t we. Bit more than mates, last night, don’t you reckon?” Gene smiled down at Sam. “Though I have to say I think all that ‘upstairs outside’ stuff – well, upstairs anyside - is a bit of a waste of time with blokes.”


Sam laughed, his entire face relaxing and lighting up as Gene laughed with him. Sam sat up, still laughing; deciding to take the risk, he wrapped his arms around Gene and whispered in his ear “Tell you what though Guv, two morning stiffies, that’s got to increase the possibilities, hasn’t it!” To his relief, Gene grinned, turning towards Sam as he said “Let’s see what we’ve got to work with then, Sammy boy," and he lowered his mouth to Sam’s.


* * *

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