Fandom: Life on Mars
Word Count: 535 words.
Notes: Sam/Gene slash.
Gene always looks at him as if he's searching for something. Sam isn't sure what. Sometimes it might be answers, other times it might be connection. It gets invasive, occasionally, is something he wants to shy away from, but doesn't know how. He holds Gene's gaze and hopes he's offering whatever Gene's looking for.
In those moments, Sam doesn't think about Gene's eyes. No, that comes later, when he's alone in his flat, with a failed risotto and glass of wine. Sitting, staring out the window, he imagines he's staring into those eyes - intelligent, worldly, and so very green - except when Gene's wearing blue and they're blue, or he's surrounded by brown and they're hazel. Which happens a lot, when he thinks about it. And he does think about it. Probably more than he should.
Gene looks at him now and Sam gazes back, willing Gene to say something, anything, but there are no words spoken until Sam cracks.
"Is there any particular reason you're staring at me?"
"No," Gene answers promptly with a shake of his head.
"Then why are you?"
Gene lights a cigarette. "Because I can."
"Mature as always, Gene."
"What do you want me to say?"
Sam narrows his eyes. "The truth would be a nice start."
"The truth is 'because I can', but it's apparently not good enough for you, with your persistent need to analyse every last little detail."
"No ulterior motive, then?"
"No, last I checked, the mere fact you were there to be stared at was it."
Gene gazes down at Sam, cigarette dangling from the fingers of one hand as the other strokes through his hair. "Is there any particular reason you don't like me staring at you?"
There are all kinds of reasons. Gene might just find those answers he's searching for and decide they're not the ones he wants. Or he might conclude there's no connection between them, none at all. He might glimpse the madness within Sam, the one that threatens to consume him just when he's at his most relaxed.
"I'm always afraid I've something on my face."
Gene raises an eyebrow. "Paranoid sort, aren't you?" He tosses the now half a cigarette in the ashtray on the side-table and adjusts his body lower, forcing Sam to raise his head as he places his arm underneath.
"Tell you what, I'll do you a deal," Gene continues once he's settled. Sam curls into the warmth of his body and waits. "You stop being so bloody gorgeous and I'll stop staring. Sound fair?"
Sam smiles and nods. Gene places a hand along his jaw and tilts his head up, pressing a warm kiss against his lips. And when he pulls away, those green eyes are glittering with promise.
"Instead of staring, I'll just follow my base instincts and fuck your brains out. Once again, 'because I can'. Sound more than fair?"
Sam pretends to consider this. "I suppose an agreement could be arranged." He reaches up and draws Gene into another kiss.
Gene always looks at him as if he's searching for something, but Sam's starting to think it's possible he's already found it and is just enjoying the view.