serafina20 | Fic: Accidentally

Title: Accidentally
Author: serafina20
Rating: Brown Cortina
Pairing: Sam/Gene
Summary: Sam accidentally finds out something about the Guv. And accidents continue to happen.
Spoilers: Major for 2.08

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

Dear Gene,

I didn't want to do it this way, but you're never home, so I have to.

I'm leaving you, Gene. This life isn't working for me anymore. You're always working, we never talk. Never see each other, not even when we're in the same room. It's not working and I'm unhappy.

I've met someone. Another bloke. I met him at the shops and we've been having dinners and lunches and tea. He's a wonderful man. Brilliant, funny. He sees me. Notices me, even at my age. And he can give me all the things I've been missing in my life. He can give me things you never could or never wanted to.

You're a good man, Gene, but we don't make each other happy. I don't make you happy, and, let's face it. You've already found someone who does. Now I have too.

Gene crumpled the paper in his fist angrily. No matter how many times he read the letter, the words never lost their sting. Not making her happy. Not giving her the life she wanted. Him meeting someone else.

Bollocks.

Fifteen years. Gone. Just like that. Because she gets itchy feet.

And a jealous mind.

God, Gene wishes he could pretend he didn't know what she was talking about. Or that the one making him happy was a bird with big jugs and long, long legs. But no. Couldn't be something he could apologize for and crawl back to her. Couldn't be something simple. Something normal. It had to be this.

Sam bloody fucking nancy-boy pain-in-arse damn him to hell Tyler.

Gene fell back on the bed. Pressed a fist to his eyes. Christ in hell, he needed a drink.

He wasn't a poof. Plain and simple. Every man had his moments: seen a friend's willie, had a contest to see who could come first. And if he'd noticed how beautiful those friends were when they came, that was just him noticing. For companionship, for wanting around to talk to, to sleep with, to be with, that was what women were for.

And then Sam.

The thing was, until the letter, he'd never noticed how much the bastard took up in his life. How every waking moment seemed to revolve around him in some way. Even when he'd see the missus's eyes glaze over when he started talking about what the nonce had done or said, it didn't occur to him that maybe she was jealous.

Now it was all he could think of. That, and all the things he wouldn't let himself think of before. Like the curve of Sam's smile. His long, elegant fingers. Slim, tapered hips. Swagger when he walked. Tight little arse and....

Insanity.

And now that insanity was downstairs, washing the dishes. And singing. Loudly.

Gene's head was spinning. He hadn't had enough to drink. And he'd had too much wine. That, combined with the day, gave him a headache. And a desire to roll over and go to sleep.

If only Sam would stop yowling.

With a groan, Gene pushed himself up. Rubbed his eyes, then left, going downstairs.

"You said no strings could secure you at the station," Sam was singing.

"Sam," Gene started to say, but his voice died when he entered the kitchen.

Sam was at the sink, elbow deep in soapy water. His shirt was flung over a chair, leaving him in a white tank top that clung to his pale skin. Black jeans clung to him, hugging his arse, displaying it to tantalizing perfection. And it wiggled back and forth as Sam swung his hips to the music.

Christ.

Mesmerized, Gene pulled his fags from his back pocket, shook one out and lit. Then just stood there, leaning against the door jab and watched Sam, shaking his arse like a dancer in a club. Only with total abandon, not even aware he was being watched. Freer than Gene'd ever seen.

The song ended. A new one began and the arse swayed to a different tune.

Suddenly, Gene was tired of this. He straightened his shoulders. Marched across the room. Hesitated, stubbed out his cigarette on the table.

"Sam," he said, hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Just finishing up, Gene." He glanced over his shoulder. Face changed. "What?" Sam pulled his hands from the sink and turned around. "Am I being too loud? I can..."

Gene didn't let Sam finish. One hand on Sam's hip, the other hand cupped his jaw almost tenderly. And he leaned in. Pressed his lips to Sam's mouth.

Sam inhaled, one sharp breath through his nose.

And he kissed back.

Mouth opened, tongue tentatively touched Gene's lip. He opened his mouth to draw in Sam's tongue.

Wet, rubber-gloved hands came around Gene's neck. Pulled him closer. The kiss deepened. Gene's hand tightened on Sam's hip. Adrenaline ran through him, electric-shock like. Heart pounded and head spun and this is what he'd been missing for months. Years. This. It suddenly didn't matter that the misuses left, or that he wasn't a poof, or that Sam Tyler was the most annoying man he'd ever met in his entire life.

His fingers stroked down Sam's jaw. Skin was so hot, he thought he was going to catch on fire. Holding Sam even tighter, Gene pressed his hips forward, pressed his growing erection into Sam's thigh. And...

Sam broke away. "No." He pushed Gene off him.

"Sam..."

"I... I can't. Sorry." The gloves came off, his shirt went on, and Sam was gone.