Well, I've been an avid lurker for about a week, and now I've finally gotten it together to contribute something of my own. This is my first fanfic for about... two years, and my first time properly back on LJ, so please forgive me if I bugger up either.Title:
None of Your NonsenseAuthor:
Green Cortina. I think. Do tell me if you think I should go one up. My own filthy mind isn't the best judge of such things.Word count:
502, to be precise.Warnings:
None. Well. Bondage in the sense that handcuffs appear, but nothing you haven't seen if you've watched the show.Disclaimer:
None of the characters belong to me, nor the setting, nor the idea, all that jazz.General summary:
Gene's listening to the football, and Sam is needy.
“Go on, Gene.”
“Don’t call me tha’. Only I
call me tha’. Now let me listen to the ruddy match.”
They were sitting on the couch in Gene’s flat; Sam had come around, hoping for some fun, but he’d ended up being told to sit down and shut his little United-supporting-fairy-face while Gene listened to the football. Gene was sitting forward, elbows on his knees and eyes raptly fixed on the radio just in front of him, as if if he looked away, he’d miss something important. Sam had been trying to coax him away from it for ten minutes, but Gene was having none of it.
“C’mon,” groaned Sam, “you’ll find out the results tomorrow anyway. And you know Ci’y’ll win.” He slid an arm around to Gene’s front, trying to unbutton the bigger man’s shirt, but his hand was smacked away. Sam looked up at Gene, but he still had no eyes for anything but the radio.
“I’ll ‘ave none of your fairy-arsed Dorothy antics during the football, Tyler.”
Sam rolled his eyes, exasperation rolling off him in waves as he slumped back, arms folded as he stared at Gene crossly. “C’mon, Gene. Please?”
There was a pause. “Is it the only way to get you off me back?”
Sam grinned, unable to believe it. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”
“Right-o then,” gene said, springing to his feet with surprising speed. He grabbed Sam by the collar and hauled him through into the bedroom. “it’s a slow spot in any case.” He pushed Sam onto the mattress, and the DI was only too happy to comply. Gene straddled him, pinning his hands above his head as he kissed him headily, and Sam gave in completely, putting up no resistance. Gene pulled back, eyebrows raised. “You really are bloody raring for it, aren’t you?”
Sam nodded, grinning. “Am a bit.”
Gene scoffed and leant over to the bedside table, keeping Sam’s hands pinned as he reached into a drawer and pulled out two sets of handcuffs. Sam’s eyes widened, as did Gene’s smirk. “Swiped ‘em; thought they might make things a bit… interesting.”
Normally, Sam would have liked to have been consulted before such a thing- after all, it was rather reminiscent of another
time handcuffs had gone missing from the station… but he was far too surprised and delighted that Gene was complying with his desires to question much. Besides, the idea was appealing.
Being a police officer since the age of nineteen made you quite handy when it came to cuffs, and ten seconds of clinking metal later Sam’s hands were cuffed above his head. He looked up at Gene expectantly, smiling broadly… but it faded when he realised that Gene had gotten off the bed and was smoothing back his hair. “Gene?” Gene turned away, walking back to the door and opening it. Sam’s eyes widened again. “Gene, you bastard, don’t you dare-!”
“You can wait until bloody half-time,” said Gene, shutting the door behind him.