Fandom: Life on Mars
Word Count: 422 words.
Notes: Sam/Gene slash, inspired by a recent picture. I am so predictable.
He lives for danger. He didn't become a cop because he liked the uniform, because, let's face it, he got out of it as quickly as possible. He didn't become a cop just because he likes rules and regulations, because, despite doing so very much, it doesn't take over his life. No, he became a cop because he likes the thrill of the chase, the possibility of getting caught up in something big and unmanageable, heart pounding with a steady beat.
He lives for danger. This is why he's oh-so-casually leaned into Gene on the sofa as they look through Barrington's file. Why he's let his hand rest on Gene's knee. He isn't squeezing it, wouldn't go that far, is just sort of using it as a prop. Gene's knee is warm under his palm just as Gene's shoulder is fixed against his own. There are several points of contact between their bodies, each more dangerous than the other.
He lives for danger. So he expects Gene to say something. To tell him to get his nancy-boy hands off and go get his kicks with the nonces in the cells. They pulled in a cross-dresser last night. Sam can imagine Gene telling him 'the thing' would welcome a touch-up, but he certainly does not. Sam is just waiting for Gene to threaten to pull his fingers back until they're cracking, to crush him like a vice.
He lives for danger. But this is apparently not dangerous at all. Gene hasn't said anything, done anything, nor even noticed that Sam's hand is on his knee beyond a quick glance. It feels strange to be doing something so innocent and yet illicit, throat constricted and pulse racing. It shouldn't be affecting him like this, because it's ridiculous, but it's such a possessive, intimate thing and Gene doesn't mind.
"You gonna move that hand, Sammy-boy, or am I gonna have to move it for you?"
Of course. Gene was giving him time, that's all. Being DI has earned Sam some leeway when it comes to immediate mutilation. He tries to quash his disappointment and slides his hand off to place it back on his own knee.
"Wrong way," Gene says, and curves his fingers around Sam's wrist. He gently places Sam's hand high up on his thigh, edging it towards his groin. "Much better."
He lives for danger. Something about the glint in Gene's eye and the play of a smile on his lips tells Sam that he doesn't yet know what true danger is. But he's dying to find out.