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LoMFic - Jagged Bleeding Edges - dorsetgirl
December 13th, 2007
12:14 am
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LoMFic - Jagged Bleeding Edges
 

Title:                Jagged Bleeding Edges

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:             Brown Cortina for m/m sex.

Word Count:   2,450

Pairing:            Sam/Gene

Spoiler:            None

Summary:       What can you do when the worst wounds are on the inside?

Author’s Note: I started this fic in the background way back in October, and it seems to have completed itself without fuss over the past week or so; I only wish the others would do the same. The talky bits were inspired by Loz’s Aggressive Male Affection and Halotolerant’s Make Do And Mend. I put in the action bits because Totallywow said I hadn’t written any sex for too long, so I hope they’ll do for you, honey. Not beta’ed, sorry, because I’m impatient today, so comments and concrit welcomed.

 

 

 

 

Jagged Bleeding Edges

 

 

 

Sam still remembers how shocked he was at the amount Gene drank. When he first arrived in 1973, he’d already spent ten or fifteen years working under the American-led dry-site culture, and with his 2006 values, he couldn’t believe how casual everyone was about drinking in the office – not even bothering to hide it when the Superintendent walked in.

 

And he remembers when he stopped being shocked; when he realised that the past is just a different country, and the people there aren’t aliens, only foreigners. Sam learned to speak the language, and he stopped worrying so much about Gene and his drinking. The man was an adult, after all, and the amount he put away during the day never crossed the line into “should be reported”. But most of all, it wasn’t Sam’s problem, and God knows, he had enough of his own to be going on with.

 

And he’ll always remember exactly when it became his problem. Not because the drinking got worse; it didn’t. But the man became his. And when you’re with someone, you share their problems, worry about them. And when you love someone, you want to solve their problems so you can stop worrying about them and just enjoy them.

 

So now Sam’s wondering whether he really has got a problem. Or, more accurately, if Gene’s got a problem. And if so, what they’re going to do about it.

 

 

 

“Gene.”

 

The restless moaning stopped; Gene lay temporarily still and quiet, not acknowledging Sam.

 

“Gene. Love.” Sam tried again. He didn’t normally do lovey-dovey, Gene wasn’t comfortable with it, but this was a special occasion after all.

 

“What d’yer want. Trying to sleep here,” Gene said flatly.

 

“Not much. Only - doesn’t it spoil your birthday a bit, to be up all night puking? At your age?”

 

“For God’s sake Tyler, rub it in, why not? I’m only forty-six.”

 

“Sorry. I just meant – you know, when you’re eighteen, puking on your birthday is the only way to go. But shouldn’t you have got over that by now?”

 

“Look, sober-knickers, if you want to celebrate your birthday by going to the Opera and sipping sherry, that’s up to you. I’ll celebrate my birthday how I want, OK?”

 

There was silence for a few minutes.

 

“Gene?”

 

“God, what now?”

 

“Can I ask you something?”

 

Gene snorted. “That doesn’t sound like you, Dorothy, askin’. Go on then”

 

“It’s just – I really need to know: the hip flask. Is it just habit? Or do you need it?”

 

Gene was silent for a moment; he turned to look at Sam, green eyes surprisingly clear for a man who’d been honking his ring only half an hour earlier. Sam could see he was thinking it over.

 

“Dunno,” he said, finally. “Right here and now, don’t think I’d care if I never had another drink. And I don’t mean ’cos me guts are turning inside out at the thought.”

 

Sam waited, but when Gene didn’t say any more, he turned onto his side and ran a finger gently across Gene’s mouth. “Why then?” he asked. “I mean, what’s different, ‘right here and now’?”

 

Gene was silent again, clearly thinking about it in more detail.

 

“Difficult to explain, Sam.”

 

“Try, please?”

 

“Well, this is going to sound daft, but - it’s you, Sam. You’re here.

 

Sam pulled a face that managed to say both “Durr, I know?” and “So, what’s that got to do with the price of fish?”

 

Gene smiled briefly at the achievement, then continued. “You know I never had much of a life when I was a kid.” He glanced briefly at Sam, as if to check he was listening. “Always on me own, always fighting for survival, even at home. D’you know what it does to yer, Sam, when home is the most dangerous place, not the safest? It kills you. Digs a bloody great big hole right in yer guts, and nothing ever fills it. It’s always there, with jagged bloody edges, bleeding.”

 

He looked at Sam again. “But when I’m with you, I dunno, it’s like ... Nah, it’s stupid...”

 

“What, Gene?”

 

Gene almost looked embarrassed as he continued. “It’s like ... you’re my safe place.” He turned to look at Sam. “Never had one before,” he added quietly.

 

Sam gulped in surprise. Not knowing what to say, he softened his body along the length of Gene’s, and kissed him gently before moving away just enough to lay his head on Gene’s shoulder. He thought for a moment, then spoke quietly; not sure whether Gene would answer, but needing to know.

 

“What about when you were first married? I mean, it’s none of my business how you were with ... but ... didn’t that help?”

 

“No, Sam. Your world might be different, but in my world, the man is the strong one. It’s his job to be the safe place for the wife and the kids.”

 

“And if you’re not... If you can’t do that, ’cos no-one ever did it for you?”

 

“Again, things might be different where you come from, like you’re always saying. But where I come from, if you’re not strong enough, then she’ll go in the end. Which ... well, even if it wasn’t perfect ... that does hurt. Does rip a few more bloody holes in the guts.” Gene’s hand tightened momentarily on Sam’s arm. “And the drink – well, it doesn’t stop ’em bleeding, obviously. But it does make it easier to ignore ’em. Pretend they’re not there.”

 

Sam was silent again, thinking. When he and Gene had first discovered their attraction was mutual they had both known, without too much discussion, that they were very different in almost every way. But they also knew they worked well together, could each provide for the other something that was missing, on both professional and personal levels, and more simply - against all likelihood - they just wanted to be together.

 

Now he felt almost overwhelmed. He’d never understood before, right in his heart, that he was as important to Gene as Gene was to him. It made him feel warm, and scared, at the same time.

 

“What ... er, what is it that ... I mean, what can I ...?”

 

“For God’s sake Tyler, get a grip and spit it out!”

 

“OK. What I’m trying to say is – I think I understand why you drink. But I really want you to cut down on it - not for me, but for you. And if my being here with you helps with that, then that’s brilliant. Really. Fantastic.”

 

“It does help, yeah. But don’t take that as my permission to bloody talk about it all the time, OK?”

 

Sam was trying to keep things light, and not over-react, but this annoyed him slightly. Gene had opened up to an unprecedented degree in talking about how he felt, and against all known experience, Sam had hoped this might be a permanent change. It seemed not.

 

“Please, Gene. I’m overwhelmed that I’m that important to you, I really am. I am - honoured - truly, to be your safe place, and I will never let you down. But I don’t think you know how important you are to me, and how much it hurts when you won’t talk to me.” He put a hand on Gene’s face and turned it so he could see the expression on his face. “Look, I know you don’t do ‘girly feelings’ stuff – although you should -  but I do, OK? So please don’t do this to me – don’t back off and hide behind that hard man bit again. This is important.”

 

Gene sighed. “Look, I’ve said my piece. I don’t want to talk about it any more. If you want to tell me how you feel that’s fine, but don’t make me keep looking inside myself. It’s ugly in there and I don’t want to see it.”

 

There was silence for a while as Sam clenched his fists in frustration. So near. He climbed on top of Gene, knees either side of Gene’s hips, and leaned forward to take Gene’s face in his hands. He kissed him briefly and hard, then sat up.

 

“Gene. I don’t care whether it’s ugly in there or not. I don’t think it is, but there you go. I just want to ...to smooth those jagged bleeding edges for you.” He moved his hips involuntarily, as Gene’s cock twitched alongside his. He smiled and said “Yes, I’ll enjoy smoothing those particular edges as well, but don’t shut me out again, Gene. I love you, and I want you to be the best man you can. For you, not for me.” He moved his hips again, thrusting against Gene’s abdomen. Gene’s breath was coming faster now as he stared up at Sam assessingly.

 

“Stop that a minute, Sam.”

 

Sam raised his eyebrows and made to climb off. Gene grabbed him by the hips. “I didn’t say get off, did I! Just, stop a minute so I can think.” He closed his eyes and Sam waited. “OK,” Gene said as he opened his eyes again. “You already are doing; smoothing those edges I mean. Just being here. Every day, even when things go wrong, even when some bastard thinks he can laugh at me in my city, I look at you, with your procedures and your forensics  and your metaphors. And I swear, Sam, I was never soppy a day in my life till I met you, but – every time I look at you I’m happy that at the end of the day I’ll go going home with you. Those bleeding edges are at least warming up; I don’t feel cold inside like I used to.” He smiled up at Sam, who smiled back, desperately trying not to over-react and frighten Gene back inside his armour.

 

“So Dorothy”, Gene went on. “What do your modern procedures say about getting someone off the booze, eh? ’Cos I don’t think I’ve got a problem, but if you do, then maybe I have.”

 

“Well,” Sam started slowly, thinking it through. “I don’t think you’re actually, clinically, alcoholic. I think you do drink less than you did when I first got here.” He stroked Gene’s hair back from his face, careful to keep the action loving rather than provocative. “How would you feel about not having the hip flasks? I don’t mean don’t have a drink in the pub, or in the office, but just see how you go without the quick nip every time you’re stressed about something, every time you’re waiting for something to happen. What do you think? ’Cos one day, drinking at work won’t be acceptable any more, and I want you to be able for that, Gene.”

 

He could see Gene considering it.

 

“How about just having a couple, Sam?”

 

“What good would that do? You’d only fill... No wait, hold on. Knowing you, you’d light up another fag every time you couldn’t have a nip. Yeah, OK, how about just one? The one Harry Woolf gave you, maybe?” He pretended not to notice the fleeting look of grief that twitched at Gene’s lips; whatever had happened between Gene and his own former DCI was in the past and could rest there undisturbed. “What do you think? Just the one, and don’t refill it during the day. That way you have to think about whether you really want it – need it, whatever – and we can see how we go. Deal?”

 

Gene looked dubious, but nodded. “OK, deal. For a few days, OK, to see how we go? And then ... well, and then we’ll know. I’ll  know. Whether I really need it.”

 

Sam smiled. “OK, then, that sounds like a plan.” He leaned forward again to kiss Gene on the mouth. He nibbled and licked Gene gently along his mouth and around the jawline until he reached Gene’s ear. He whispered “And this is a plan too,” as he stiffened his tongue and licked the contours of Gene’s ear delicately.

 

As Gene’s hips jolted underneath him and his cock stiffened, Sam ran his other hand through Gene’s hair, stroking his neck on the way before reaching for the drawer in the bedside table.

 

“Feeling up to much then, birthday boy? Or shall I do all the work?“

 

“Go for it, Sammy. I’ll just lie here and take it like a man.”

 

Sam grinned and moved to smack Gene round the face. Gene grabbed him by the wrist and had him turned over before he had a chance to get himself balanced. “On second thoughts...” he said, grabbing the tin from Sam. Pushing Sam’s legs up to his chest, Gene knelt on the bed and took Sam’s cock into his mouth. Already half-hard, it didn’t take Sam long to start groaning and arching his pelvis upwards. “Oh God, Gene. Now. Please.”

 

“All in good time, Sammy-boy. A craftsman does not rush.” One hand was stroking Sam’s inner thigh while the other moved lightly around Sam’s balls and along his cock. Suddenly, Sam felt an unexpected warmth as Gene’s tongue touched his anus, licking gently round the circle of tight muscle and then dipping in to his entrance.

 

Sam found it difficult to breathe as Gene probed deeply with his tongue, while the hand stroking his cock was wrapped firmly around it. He couldn’t stay still as the sensations intensified and he started panting, drawing in shaky breaths as Gene withdrew and re-entered. Gene’s other hand was now working his own cock, spreading the lube – multi-tasking, thought Sam dizzily, who knew? – and before Sam had completed the thought Gene had his cock at Sam’s entrance and was smiling down at him.

 

“Ready for me then, Sammy?”

 

“Oh God, Gene, yes --- Gene, please, I can’t --- aaah, that’s --- oh Jesus, you’re so --- hot.

 

Gene smiled that enigmatic smile as he buried himself deep inside Sam and started to move, his own breath starting to hitch as he thrust harder and faster.

 

“Not such an old’un then, eh?” he gasped. “Still got it, I think, bloody forty-six or not!”

 

As Sam groaned and bucked beneath him, Gene faltered in his rhythm and dug his fingers into Sam’s hips, coming inside him with a yell. Sam gave himself a few hard strokes and followed almost immediately, grinning up at Gene breathlessly.

 

* * *

 

They took turns to go to the bathroom, keeping the bed warm. “I love it when a plan comes together” murmured Sam as Gene finally got back into bed. He wondered sleepily whether Gene would keep to their new agreement or try to wriggle out of it, but as he was dozing off, Gene wrapped possessively around him, he heard Gene speak softly in his ear.

 

“New world tomorrow then, Sammy. Just for you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

END

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Comments
 
[User Picture]
From:sytaxia
Date:February 5th, 2008 05:13 am (UTC)
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This was just beautiful - a lot of fic writers, including me, would have mentioned something about how long that Sam and Gene have been together at this point, but it's completely unnecessary here: the way that Gene is so open and honest with Sam, even though it's obviously a difficult thing for him to do, speaks volumes to that fact, and throughout the fic you can just see him opening up more and more. The way that he talked about his childhood and his life with the missus was just haunting, and the way that he was so open and honest didn't feel forced, as it often can, when a man like Gene starts talking about things like that - it was just perfectly done. And the sex was a very hot and sexy little ending to the fic, as well :) Well done!
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