lucysaxon: (John Simm  ♥ Brow of smex)
[personal profile] lucysaxon
Title: Falling Away With You
Author: Lucy Saxon
Beta: [ profile] talkingtothesky  whom I would be nothing without. She deserves many ice lollies for this.
Rating:  Brown Cortina for the kinky mansecks
Word Count: 1600 approx
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Gene thinks Sam needs to be punished
A/N:   Because I have communication fail, I thought my best friend had begged me for spank!fic and that's the only reason I wrote it. Turns out, it's actually a squick for her so good job there Lucy. I promise, the next one I write will be fluffy and porny in equal measure.


 ¸.´¸.*´¨) ¸.*¨)
Falling Away With You
(¸.´ (¸.´                by Lucy Saxon

CID was quiet. Everyone else had gone home or to the pub, except Sam of course, who stayed late to finish a few reports on the Cullins case. The quiet suited him fine and even Gene had been quick to leave to the pub with everyone else. 

Sam was so engrossed in the reports that he didn't hear the footsteps and somehow he missed the larger-than-life shadow that had suddenly appeared. "Not finished with those reports yet? All work and no play makes Tyler a very dull boy," the figure said.

"Wait a minute, how could you possibly know -- didn't you go to the pub? Not like you to miss beer o'clock, Gene."

"It's my department, Gladys. I wasn't aware that I needed permission to be here."

"Of course not, that's not what I --"

"Those reports should already be on my desk and your legs should already be slung over my shoulders. The way I see it, we've got a problem so what's taking you so long, Samantha?"

"Well, for starters these reports look like a child had written them, they're not even legible and considering the stains all over them I don't even want to speculate --”   Sam let out an exasperated sigh.  “I'm sorry, Gene but it's going to take a while. You're better off going back to the pub, or home."

Gene seemed to consider Sam's suggestion before answering. “Doesn't really take care of our problem though, does it?”

“And what problem is that again?” Sam asked coyly.

Gene gestured toward his crotch.

“Oh.” He shot Gene a cheeky grin, the kind that he knew infuriated his DCI and burnt all his reservations to ashes. “Can't you just-- wank or something? It doesn't have to be a misnomer, you know.”

“Got a bleedin' answer for everything. Don't you, Tyler?”

Before he could retort his DCI had made his way over to him in a single stride. Sam sometimes forgot that for such a big man, Gene didn't lack speed and he quickly found himself face down over his desk with one arm wrenched painfully high. He felt Gene's breath against the back of his neck and the full weight of his DCI pinning him to the desk.

He then felt Gene's free hand fumbling for his zip and his trousers and pants being shoved roughly down to pool at his ankles, exposing his bare arse. “Not so smart now with your pants around your ankles like some cheap rentboy, are you?” Gene growled into his ear and Sam almost forgot where they were, allowing himself a low moan. His arm shifted lower, easing some of the pain and he felt cold metal and heard the sound of handcuffs being clicked securely around his wrists.

He was completely helpless now, trousers hobbling him and his hands cuffed behind his back. He couldn't see what Gene was doing properly and he tried struggling but he was easily overpowered by the much larger and stronger DCI, who decided Sam still wasn't in the ideal position for whatever he was planning. “What the bloody hell --?” was all he managed before Gene's rolled up tie was being inserted into his mouth, muffling his protests. 

What did Gene think he was doing? They were still at work. Everyone had supposedly been gone but what about the cleaning ladies? What if someone just happened to wander in, catching them with their dicks out? Well Sam's anyway, Gene was still fully clothed -- the bastard.

“Gene...” Sam tried to say, forcing back his gag, wanting to remind Gene where they were but Gene was having none of it. Instead Gene hooked his foot around the leg of the chair and pulled it close enough to sit on while dragging Sam down over his lap.

Gene gently stroked a large hand over his arse a couple times before the hand was removed. Sam thought maybe that was it, Gene was just winding him up and he'd be allowed to get up and get dressed before anyone caught them -- at least until he felt that same hand come down hard across his bare arse. Sam yelped at the sudden pain and was rewarded with another slap, and then another. Rapid succession on each cheek until his arse was warm and tender.

Gene ran his fingertips over the abused flesh and Sam started writhing, pressing his erection into Gene's thigh. “You filthy bitch,”  Gene growled. “You love that, don't you?”  Gene raised his thigh and rubbed it harder against Sam's erection, causing him to moan involuntarily against his gag. “Yeah. I can feel how much you love it, you dirty boy.” He was freely leaking pre-come now and felt it seep into the fabric of Gene's trousers as he writhed against the thigh, relishing the delicious friction.

Gene brought his hand down twice more against the quivering flesh and Sam was sobbing somewhere between pain and pleasure, his arse feeling on fire. Sam might not have wanted this but he sure the hell needed it and somehow Gene always knew. He felt the abusing hand lightly stroking over his red-hot flesh again and then felt a questing finger dip in between his cheeks, gently teasing at the puckered flesh there.

Sam whimpered helplessly as he felt the insistent pressure of that same finger probing him, opening him up as Gene's other hand reached forward, brushing over his balls and back across his perineum to his arse, spreading his cheeks apart as another digit was inserted into his clenching heat, eagerly assisting the first. He felt a frisson of arousal rush down his spine as they hooked and nudged against his prostate, eliciting a sharp cry of appreciation. He thrust forward into Gene's thigh and then back onto the probing fingers, wanting to feel Gene deeper inside of him while building a delicious friction.

Gene sought what purchase he could on Sam's too-short hair, wrenching back his head and leaning in close enough to speak into his ear. “You're such a greedy bitch, Tyler. Taking my fingers so deep inside, wishing it were my thick cock being rammed into you instead.”

Gene worked a third finger inside of him, stretching him further and he felt his arousal clawing its way up his spine and his balls drawing tight.  If Gene kept speaking to him like that and hitting that spot inside of him so relentlessly - god, he was so close now – just a little more – and he cried out helplessly, biting down on his gag. His muscles clenched around the fingers deep inside of him as he spilt hot and thick onto Gene's thigh, shuddering as he came. 

Sam was breathless, his orgasm leaving him so depleted that he didn't register being shoved off Gene's lap until his knees hit the floor with a dull thud. He tried to regain his balance -- which was difficult with his hands still cuffed behind his back -- when Gene yanked him none too gently up off the floor, throwing him face down over the desk again. “I'm not done with you, little whore,” he growled. “Gonna shoot my load all over your red arse, show you who you belong to.”

Sam lay dazed over the desk, head turned to the side and watching as Gene took himself in hand, stroking single-mindedly towards his own release. “My beautiful boy,” he panted. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” It sounded so loving in contrast to everything else going on and Sam understood because Gene did it to him too. It was all too much yet somehow not enough, the need for each other was just so intense.

He felt Gene's hand come down one last time as he shot ribbons all over red flesh, gripping Sam's hips tight as he came apart.

The world was relatively unchanged as  Gene finally collapsed onto Sam's back, fully spent. After a few blissful moments, Sam felt the click of the cuffs being removed and then Gene's fingers gently rubbing feeling back into his sore wrists. “I'm sorry, Sammy-boy. I hope I didn't hurt you too much this time.”

“Don't worry, you didn't. But you really are a bastard, Gene. Anyone could have walked in here. D'you realise that? Then what would you have done?”

Gene just grinned at him.

“You're not sorry at all, are you? Bastard.”

“Oh, don't get your knickers in a twist, Gladys. I made sure no one was coming in here.”

“You can't be so sure of that.”

“Yes I can.”

“No you can't.”



Gene pulled him close and nuzzled his neck. “It always amazes me how you can get shagged so hard you can't remember your own name but still have the ability to be a complete gobshite.”

Before Sam could retort his chin was being tilted up and his lips were being devoured in a sloppy, affectionate kiss. “I hate you,” Sam said when they finally came up for air.

“You love me,” Gene replied. Sam distracted him with another kiss while placing the abandoned handcuffs around the wrist of his unsuspecting DCI.

Breaking off from the kiss, Gene looked bemused down at his now cuffed wrist. Before he could protest Sam leered at him.  “Your turn, Hunt.”

Hearing a sudden noise towards the door Sam stopped and looked over, barely catching a glimpse of a small figure with short hair quickly retreating away from the window.

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