Fandom: Life on Mars
Word Count: 1,325 words.
Notes: Sam/Gene slash PWP. Inspired by recent discussions.
It’s the anticipation that does it, has him standing stock still, desperate for movement. He watches the flicker of Gene’s eyes, the slow, languid ease with which Gene leans there and brings his flask to his lips.
“I’m here, like you asked.”
“Yes, you are.”
Gene raises his eyebrows, stares at him, and Sam cannot think of anything else to say, because words are completely meaningless. He watches Gene’s tongue as it glides along his lower lip, his own mouth treacherously dry. He clenches his fists by his sides and refrains from launching himself at the trunk of Gene’s body, tearing off every item of his polyester casing, and tasting each square inch. But only just.
Gene remains in position, his throat arched as he tilts his head back and has more scotch. The flask goes on Sam’s shelf and Gene starts to undo his tie, pulling it down with practiced simplicity. A low note escapes Sam’s throat and he goes again to move, but doesn’t. Gene undoes his buttons and shrugs off his shirt, eyes never leaving Sam’s face. He drags his vest up and tosses it to the ground.
“You really want this.”
Sam nods, can’t do anything else, is breathy and hushed. “Yeah.”
“Then come over here and take it.”
That’s all the cue Sam needs. His self-restraint snaps and within a second he’s in Gene’s personal space, fingers immediately on his skin, looking up at him with a kind of wonder.
“Yeah,” he says again, thumb brushing over the hard nub of Gene’s left nipple, drawing close with his mouth nuzzling into his neck.
“You’re very eloquent when you’re highly sexed,” Gene replies, voice rich and amused.
“Not highly sexed,” Sam mutters, “that’s part of the problem.” He puts one hand around Gene’s waist, dragging their bodies into closer contact. “Gene…”
Gene rubs against Sam, cock half-hard against his thigh. Sam’s painfully aware that there are too many clothes between them, far too many, and he begins working on Gene’s belt, struggling with the buckle, his fingers not doing what they need to be doing. Gene clasps his hand over Sam’s and co-ordinates his movements. The buckle goes, the belt is dragged out and meets the vest on the floor, and Sam pushes Gene’s trousers and underwear down with one fluid movement, until they’re pooled around his ankles.
He drops to his knees and takes Gene’s cock in his mouth, hand at the base. In a few, short moments, Gene stiffens within his mouth, becomes thick and hard. Sam does his best to regulate his breathing as he teases the head of Gene’s cock and skates his fingers up his inner thighs. Gene ruts into him and Sam knows that soon he’ll be going deeper and harder. Sam pulls off, eliciting a throaty groan.
“I need the… top drawer, side-table,” Sam says, waving his hand in a vague gesture and otherwise remaining still. Gene shifts over, scrabbles about in the drawer and brings out the lube.
“Bit early?” Gene queries, but Sam shakes his head, opening his hand out for the bottle and almost sighing in satisfaction as Gene gives it to him.
Sam returns his mouth to Gene’s cock, flipping the cap off the bottle and rubbing the lube between his fingers. His tongue pays extra attention to the underside of Gene’s cock as his left hand drags along his thigh to his arse, fingers dipping along his crack.
Gene juts forward too quickly at that, his breath catching in his chest. Sam explores with his fingers as he torments with his mouth, obsessed with Gene’s arrhythmic thrusts as he works a finger around and in his hole. He adds more lube, pushes his finger up to the second knuckle, sliding his lips up and down Gene’s cock. Gene thrusts harder and faster, a litany of grunts cascading out of him. Sam thinks the noise is indecent and wants to hear more of it, so he swirls his tongue around and hollows out his cheeks.
Gene comes, wet and hot down Sam’s throat and even though he was expecting it, Sam is still slightly shocked. It doesn’t seem possible, and yet it is, he’s knelt on the floor between Gene’s legs and he’s brought him to completion.
Sam helps Gene manoeuvre to the table, legs spread wide. He pulls down his own trousers, wondering why he hasn’t already, and doesn’t have to do anything to bring his cock to full hardness, because he’s flushed deep red and more than ready. Gene’s laid bare across the table top and makes a choked, warm sound as Sam carefully presses two fingers into him. Gene’s already relaxed, but Sam opens him further, fingers going deeper and scissoring.
He wants to say, ‘I’m so glad you’re more open minded than I’d previously thought’, ‘I’m so glad you’re turned on by me’, ‘I’m so glad you’re here, waiting to be fucked.’ But instead, he says, “I’m so glad you are the way you are,” completely incoherent. He can still taste Gene on his tongue as he curves his fingers, causing Gene to shudder beneath him. His right hand slips against his hip, unable to gain purchase.
“Okay, I think you’re just about-” he says, but Gene cuts in, growling.
“Do it, Tyler, before I flip you over and have my way with you.”
Sam positions his cock and starts to ease in, slowly. His muscles strain as he takes his time. Gene is unbelievably hot, and despite all of Sam’s preparation, tight. Sam’s stunned by how well they fit together as he pushes inch by inch, holding still when he’s gone as far as he can go.
“Move. Please,” Gene moans and even if Sam had been intending on staying like that forever, he’d have to have done as requested, because the raw need in the inflection is overwhelming.
He draws out and then in again, gripping tight onto Gene’s hips and snapping forward quickly.
“Ever since I first met you,” Sam says between breaths, “I’ve wanted to touch you.” He adjusts angle, bending low and kissing Gene’s back. “Had no idea I’d ever get to do this.”
“I get it,” Gene groans back. “I’m a man of constant surprises, now shut it and fuck me.”
“I am, I am, I just…” Sam smiles to himself and slows down again, “wanna make this last.”
Gene rises up on his forearms and surges back against Sam, taking him entirely by surprise.
“Oh, fuck,” Sam says, attempting bravado, but managing a whine.
Gene does it again and Sam can’t help but dig his fingers and thrust brutally back in, throwing his head back, because if he looks at Gene beneath him, he’s going to come immediately. Gene’s breathing is ragged and he clenches around Sam, becoming tighter and hotter and perfect. Every slide of Sam’s cock into Gene brings him closer and closer.
The coil of desire in the pit of Sam’s stomach springs loose, causing him to increase his pace until he’s mindlessly rutting into Gene, insensible to everything but flesh against flesh. He comes forcefully, eyes squeezed shut and mouth wide open.
He rests for a moment, draping himself over Gene’s back, then realises he has to move.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, helping Gene up and spinning him, tempted to lean forward and lick at the sheen of sweat across his collarbone.
“I’m not. Not much of a romantic, are you? We haven’t even kissed,” Gene replies, then paws at Sam’s shoulders and pins him against the wall. “We’re giving it another couple of hours and then it’s my turn.”
“I never knew you could be so patient.”
“Patience has nothing to do with it.” Gene leans forward and kisses Sam, hands travelling over his body, smiling wolfishly when he pulls away and Sam’s eyes widen. “You underestimate me, Sammy-boy.”
“God, not anymore.”
“That’s not what you’ll be saying later, bent over the kitchen counter.”
The anticipation rises again.