Title: Merry Christmas Sammy
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 swearing and slashy behaviour
Word Count: 2,914
Summary: Best Christmas present ever.
Author’s Note: I wish I’d got this present. Not beta’d, as I wanted to post this on Christmas Day, and I didn’t finish it till gone 4 o’clock on Christmas Morning (still waiting for my oldest to go to sleep.) It’s still not quite right, but I’ve run out of time, sorry.
Merry Christmas Sammy
Sam woke gradually, testing the state of his hangover as he surfaced. Not too bad, considering. He stretched languorously, muscles moving under his skin as he turned onto his back and sat up, listening to the strange stillness of the world.
Tuesdays were generally good. Well, not bad. It was usually Ray’s day off for a start, and in Sam’s admittedly biased opinion, nothing improved a day quite so much as the absence of Carling. Also, as far as Sam could make out, criminals in 1973 seemed to take Mondays off, which meant a slow start to Tuesdays for honest coppers. So on Tuesdays, he and Gene would often ...
Fuck, shit, bugger.
Sam crashed angrily back onto his pillows and turned onto his side, pulling the covers up over his head. No Tuesday this week then. Just Christmas bloody Day. In a damp shitty flat, alone and likely to remain so. In 1973.
Twenty minutes later, his plan to sleep through the whole bloody thing foiled by the sudden desperate urge to pee, Sam flung back the bedcovers and stalked to the bathroom.
As he washed up his breakfast things, Sam wondered what the others were doing. Well, he knew what Annie was doing. Back home to her parents like the nicely-brought-up girl she was. And he knew what Chris was doing; helping his Mum get dinner in the oven then visiting his aunties with their presents. And he frankly didn’t give a stuff what Ray was doing, except it would be nice to know he wasn’t enjoying it, whatever it was.
He wondered what Gene was doing. He’d asked the Guv yesterday if he had any plans and to his surprise, Gene had looked almost – furtive – and had answered evasively, turning the question back on Sam.
“Why d’you want to know, anyway? You got your plans all sorted, Sammy-boy, I bet. Probably got them written out in triplicate three months ago; don’t see why you need to be poking your nose into mine.” He paused a moment before asking, “So, what are you doing tomorrow? Going to Hyde to see your old mates?”
Sam had hesitated momentarily then answered naturally enough. “Yeah. Just for lunch. Some, er, old friends from Hyde. Probably go out just before 12.”
Turning off the TV in disgust –how are you supposed to lose an hour or two channel-hopping three channels, for God’s sake - Sam thought about starting lunch, but decided he couldn’t be bothered just yet. He poured himself a Scotch instead and downed it, gasping at the heat. He’d never really got used to the stuff, but it was Christmas after all. And I’m buggered if I’m going to sit here all day by myself stone cold sober he thought, refilling the glass and moving over to the bed.
He felt sleepy - they’d all stayed up far too late last night – and he wondered again what Gene was doing right now. Thumping the pillow back into shape he guessed it probably involved Scotch and fags somewhere along the line, but beyond that he was having difficulty imagining what Gene could be doing, particularly given that he’d been so reticent about sharing the information.
Sam lay down and almost absent-mindedly stroked his crotch; he’d long ago resigned himself to the fact that he got hard whenever he thought about Gene. Might as well make the most of it . Not as if I’m ever going to get the real thing. He kept his breathing slow and even; he could last longer that way, fill up more of the lonely day. He stroked himself again then opened his zip and wrapped his hand round his cock through his boxers.
Now he allowed himself to think about Gene properly, just picturing the man’s face. More detail would come later, when he was ready to move onto the next stage.
He concentrated on Gene’s eyes, the way they flashed anger and impatience one minute and could bore into your very soul the next. Sam thought about staring back into those eyes, watching the eyelashes flutter towards the cheekbones as Gene closed his eyes in ecstasy. Hoi, back up a minute, going too fast there. Sam steadied his breathing again and kept the same, slow rhythm as he licked the fingers of his left hand and pinched his nipples lightly.
He ran his fingers lightly through the rough curls at his groin, moving down his cock each time, resisting the urge to grab at it. Teasing himself only worked for a certain time before he had to take hold of himself hard and up the pace to frantic rubbing, but he was determined to make this last as long as possible. He thought about Gene’s mouth; the way it could move so subtly to express a wide range of emotions. Sam had fantasised about running a finger along that mouth while moving his cock alongside Gene’s.
The thought of Gene’s mouth and Gene’s cock made him gasp and stroke himself more urgently, moving his hand faster now as he thought of Gene moving over him, holding him, touching him, sucking him. He arched his hips and panted, desperate to regain control and make this last. Unable to stop, and surrendering to the thought of Gene over, around and in him, he was just starting to move even faster, allowing his breathing to trip, when to his absolute shock there was a knock on the door. His hand froze on his cock as he lay silently, straining every muscle to stop himself moving.
He was still right on the edge when, heart hammering furiously, he stuffed himself back into his boxers and pulled up his trousers. Struggling with his zip, he called out shakily “Who is it?”.
“For God’s sake,
Oh God. And me in this state. Forcing his zip up the last inch, Sam put a shaking hand to the door handle and opened the door, hoping he didn’t look as dishevelled as he felt. From the look on Gene’s face he evidently did, but Gene said nothing, just raked his gaze all the way down Sam’s body and back up, lingering momentarily on his crotch.
“Not interrupting anything I hope, Gladys? Brought yer present, but if you’re busy I’ll be on me way again.”
“No, no, that’s fine, come on in,” Sam managed to say . His cock, responding so deliciously only a few minutes ago, now positively hurt as he tried not to look at Gene. Right now he didn’t think he could look at those beautiful eyes, that fine, sexy mouth, without giving himself away completely. He stood back as Gene brushed past him and moved confidently to the kitchen.
“So, Tyler. What time you going out? Got time for a drink before you go?”
“Um, yeah, change of plan, actually. Um, got a call this morning, bit of a problem over there, so we’re going to re-arrange for another day. Bit of a pain, but there you go.”
Gene raised his eyebrows and gave a knowing smirk but again refrained from saying the obvious. “Well, good job I came over then, Sammy. Wouldn’t want you all alone on Christmas Day, would we!” He poured out two hefty measures and passed one to Sam. “Here, get that down you, and sit down a minute while I sort out your present.”
Sam took the glass and gulped at it before sitting down on the bed again. He looked up at Gene, puzzled, cock still straining at his trousers. He crossed his legs carefully. “Sorry, Guv, I thought you meant the Scotch was my present. You’ve got me something else? I, er, I didn’t get you anything, I wasn’t expecting...”
Gene had already drained his glass and was pouring himself another. He looked away from Sam and said “Sam, just do me a favour and stop talking. There’s only one present I want today, and I already knew you hadn’t bought that, so don’t worry.”
Sam stared at Gene, noting that he looked flushed, almost on edge. “Guv, I...”
“Shut it, Sam, did you not understand the first time?” Sam felt his face tighten with anger, and saw the reverse mirrored in Gene’s face. “Sorry Sam, I mean... “ Gene appeared to stumble over his words then said, “Look, I’ve brought you something, but I don’t know if ... I mean ... ”
“If I’ll like it? Try me.” Sam was still puzzled, but interested to know where this was going. He couldn’t see anything that looked like a present, for a start.
Gene moved towards Sam so he was standing very close; Sam tightened every muscle he could to stop himself reaching out to touch him.
“OK. Now, close your eyes and hold your hand out. No cheating, mind.” Gene’s expression was a strange mixture of anticipation and something that looked oddly like embarrassment as he positioned Sam’s hand, palm up, in mid-air.
Uncertain but intrigued, Sam sat still and did as he was told. After a few seconds he couldn’t resist opening one eye a fraction, only to find Gene peering into it from very close range. His heart hammering painfully again, Sam accepted the unspoken rebuke and closed his eyes, properly this time. Although he wouldn’t put it past the Guv simply to walk off and leave him sitting there like a lemon.
As he counted to five seconds he heard Gene put his glass down on the table.
By the time he’d counted to ten seconds he was starting to feel silly, but he still did as he’d been told and stayed put. His only assurance that Gene hadn’t gone was the sound of his breathing, slightly uneven and very close by.
At fifteen seconds he nearly swallowed his own tongue in shock as he registered three unexpected sensations all at once.
One: A fingertip touch to his crotch, trailing suggestively from his thigh, across his balls and along his cock, which stiffened to full hardness almost immediately. He couldn’t stop his hips canting up towards the seeking hand.
Two: The feel of warm cloth against the palm of his hand. The cloth scraped gently across his hand and back again, changing shape and hardening as it went. Sam’s fingers closed gently, instinctively, stroking the hardening mass.
Three: A warm tongue, tentatively pushing between his lips, seeking out his own tongue. It tasted exactly as he’d always imagined Gene would taste. Warmth, scotch, cigarettes. Opening his mouth automatically, he accepted the tongue eagerly for a moment.
Then, his conscious mind finally catching up and putting all three sensations together, he registered their import: Gene. Gene wanted him. Gene wanted him. His eyes flew open and Gene pulled away immediately, stepping back out of range.
Sam stood up quickly and closed the distance between them. Gene looked uncertain but stood calmly, almost fatalistically; he didn’t speak as Sam put his hands up to Gene’s face.
“Yes,” he said, quietly. “Yes, please.”
Gene smiled in relief. “Are you sure,
“Gene, you have no idea. I’ve spent months dreaming about this.”
“Well, I did think that --- I mean, well --- Anyway. Have you --- have you done this before? I mean, I have, just once, a long time ago. But I couldn’t tell if ---“
“Hey, calm down.” Sam leaned in and kissed him gently on the mouth. “I have, yeah, a couple of times. No-one that mattered though.” Sam laughed. “I just can’t believe this, I really can’t. When you knocked on the door I was --- well, I was halfway there, let’s put it that way. Thinking about you.” He kissed Gene again. “I really want this, Gene. I would never have had the nerve. But I’m so glad you did.”
“Well, it wasn’t easy,” Gene said gruffly. “Been stood outside yer door ten minutes plucking up me courage. I can’t believe it either, to be honest. So, um ---.“ He still looked so uncertain, standing with his hands down at his sides, that Sam took pity and kissed him again, not at all gently this time. He pressed his body against Gene’s, rutting his cock against Gene’s thigh and kissing him even harder. His arms moved up, holding Gene close against him.
“Come to bed?” he whispered. “Or is it too soon?
Gene moved at last, folding his arms around Sam and squeezing so hard Sam coughed. “Sorry, Gladys, don’t know me own strength, I’m just so --- No, it’s not too soon, not if you’re OK with it.” He stepped back, holding Sam at arm’s length and looking carefully into his eyes. “Are you sure? ’Cos I don’t want to be pushing you into anything you’re not sure about.” He leaned forward and spoke intensely into Sam’s ear. “But if you are sure, I had plans for pushing you into the mattress.”
Sam swallowed, feeling suddenly hot all over. “I’m sure.” He grinned suddenly, finally starting to believe this was happening. ”Come here, gorgeous.” He put his hands out to take Gene’s, pulling him towards the bed where, feeling slightly self-conscious, he lay down and watched as Gene took his shoes off. Gene looked over his shoulder at Sam and grinned as he flung both shoes into a corner. “I hope I won’t be needing those for a while, Sammy boy!”
He turned to Sam and lay down, suddenly serious. “Look. I’m not exactly a teenager, OK? I sort of wish you’d known me then – I was pretty good-looking though I say it meself – ’cos, I’ll be honest with you, I’m not sure I’ve got the staying power I had then. Not today anyway. It’s just --- I don’t want you to be judging the whole package from the next half hour.”
Sam rolled onto his side and laid his head on Gene’s shoulder, running a hand across his chest. Then he raised himself up on one elbow and smiled ruefully. “Gene, after the morning I’ve had, if you think I’ve got any hopes of lasting half an hour you’re going to be sadly disappointed. You might have noticed the state I was in when I answered the door. Well, I’m still pretty close now, so I was thinking ---“
Gene laughed gently. “Why aren’t I surprised at that, Gladys? I’ve come over here hoping to shag you into next week, you’ve said yes, but instead of dragging me trousers off you’re lying there thinking about it. And talking too. Just don’t be writing any reports about it, all right?”
“OK, got that. No reports.” Sam leaned over, burying his face in Gene’s neck. “It’s just that, well, will you be staying? Afterwards, I mean?” He licked Gene’s neck, nipping the skin gently as he worked his way up to the jawline. His hips moved against Gene’s side and he looked up at Gene’s face. “ ’Cos the way I feel at the moment I’m not going to last two minutes, so I thought if you were staying, we could sleep for a while - after – then have some lunch and then, well, I thought I’d take some time to investigate “the whole package”. He nuzzled his face into Gene’s neck again, revelling in the touch and scent, the feeling of having Gene so close.
“I’ve got no plans for going anywhere, Sam. Don’t forget it’s Christmas Day out there, there’s nowhere to go.” Moving so fast Sam almost flinched, Gene knelt up next to him and put a hand firmly on his cock, through his trousers. Now Sam did flinch, jerking his hips automatically and biting his lip to try to keep control of himself.
Gene moved to straddle him, opening his own trousers and Sam’s urgently. Pushing his own underwear impatiently aside first he quickly did the same for Sam, and wrapped his hand round both cocks together. Sam gasped and said “Gene, oh God, Gene. Please – take it slowly. I can’t --- I don’t think I can---”
It didn’t take long. Thoroughly over-excited by the burning need in Sam’s eyes, and the feel of his cock next to Gene’s own, Gene just couldn’t keep it slow and gentle for long. He tore open Sam’s shirt and placed a kiss almost reverently at the base of his sternum, then very soon he was speeding up, nearly all his weight on one elbow by Sam’s side as he worked them both together. His forehead dropped to rest on Sam’s chest, his breath harsh and hot against Sam’s skin as he felt the pressure building. Beneath him, Sam’s eyes were closed and his expression almost vacant, but his breathing too was fast and desperate.
As a yell of “Oh, God, Sam, Sam!” was dragged from Gene, Sam’s eyes flew open and he whispered “Oh yes, yes, yes!” He watched Gene’s eyelashes flutter towards his cheekbones, exactly as he’d always pictured, and thrust hard into Gene’s hand as they came together.
Gene laid a line of kisses across Sam’s shoulder and up his neck, pausing momentarily at his ear. Then he lifted his face and kissed Sam full on the mouth and smiled.
“Merry Christmas, Sammy,” he said softly. “And a Happy New Year.”