Fic: Accidentally
Jan. 21st, 2008 12:27 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
serafina20Title: 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
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Awareness crept on him gradually. He was warm and in an unfamiliar bed. Soft, comfortable. Definitely not his. Someone was pressed next to him, breathing but otherwise not making any noise. Human, then, not something that crawled from the telly. Not that that'd happened for months now, but, still. Thank God.
Sam crawled a bit more towards consciousness carefully. There were fingers on his face, touching gently. Exploring. Tracing Sam's eyebrows and down his nose. Over his cheekbones, down his jaw and over his lips.
Gene.
The fingers continued their exploration as Sam fought not to do anything to disturb the other man. Didn't want to stop this by waking up, because alerting Gene that he was, indeed, awake was the surest way to do that.
So he lay there and allowed Gene to do his exploring. It was much better than what he'd expected to happen the morning after they'd spent the night in bed together. For reasons other than a concussion. He'd expected--feared--that he'd wake up by being dumped out of bed and punted down the stairs. He was pleased at being wrong.
The blunt, calloused fingers traced down his collarbone. Toyed at the indent where the two bones met before sliding down Sam's chest. Moved slowly, as if feeling the bones under Sam's skin, before skirting the edge of a nipple.
He jerked, unable to stop himself. Gene's fingers were rough and Sam was sensitive.
There was a moment where they were both still. Sam held his breath, hoping Gene would continue, hoping he wouldn't be put off.
The moment was broken by the mattress shifting as Gene rolled away. There was a rustling sound, then the metallic flick of a lighter. A second later, smoke filled the air.
Sam sighed. "I wish you wouldn't smoke in bed," he said.
Gene snorted. "Twenty years of marriage never stopped me from doing so, not about to stop now."
"It's gonna kill you, you know," he said, rolling onto his side. He propped his head on his fist, looked up at Gene. "Like it killed Harry Woolf."
"Is this your idea of brilliant morning after conversation?" He flicked ashes off the end of the cigarette and finally looked at Sam.
Sam smiled up at him. "Not exactly." He swallowed. "So, uh. You regret it?"
"What?"
"Last night?"
Gene blew out a stream of smoke, eyes rolling. "For God's sake, Dorothy, is it something pathological with you? The need to question every bloody Goddamn thing?" He sucked hard on the cigarette.
"I just... wasn't sure... some men have reacted badly and..."
"Seduced a lot of men, have you?" Gene gave him a speculative look, then shrugged. "Not surprised, what with that face and tight arse." He took a last drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out. "I'm still here, ain't I?"
"You are." Under the covers, Sam slid his hand over Gene's stomach. Leaned in and kissed the first body part he could reach, which happened to be his shoulder.
Gene leaned over and kissed the top of Sam's head before sliding down, further under the covers. "So. What changed your mind?"
"My mind?"
"Bout coming over. Thought you weren't going too. Felt like shite and needed to think about things, because, Lord knows, you don't do that enough."
Sweat prickled along Sam's spine, remembering the nightmare that had panicked him. Not his nightmare, not his memory, but his fear. Lying, vulnerable, at the mercy of someone who was supposed to be taking care of him.
He shrugged it off, taking the opportunity to slide closer to Gene. "Um. Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd do better here." He glanced up at Gene. "Got used to it, I guess. Staying in the guest room. Didn't mean to wake you."
"Wasn't sleeping. Guess I got used to you snoring in the guest room."
"I don't snore."
Gene snorted. "So, that it, then? Just a general coming to your senses? Cause I coulda told you that going back to that piece of shit flat of yours wasn't going to work."
Sam smiled and lay back on the pillows. Stared up at the ceiling. "Next time I'll bow to your infinitely superior wisdom regarding such matters." Then, as Gene snorted, a huge pressure exploded up through Sam's stomach and chest. The words spilled from his mouth with hardly a thought. "I called Frank Morgan."
There was a beat of silence, Gene stilling beside him. Then, he got out of bed. Crossed the room to the wardrobe. "Oh? What he have to say?" He pulled out a robe and pulled it on.
"Just, uh. Some stuff. About growing up. I had no other family to take me in, so he did." His skin was suddenly hot and head too light. Thinking about it. All the implications.
How old were you, Sam he thought, wondering if Williams could hear him. How old when Morgan began paying visits to your bedroom?
The only answer was a rather pointed silence.
"Nice man, then. Considering." Gene's voice was level, flat. Toneless, really, and Sam couldn't blame him. He wouldn't know what to say, either, in this kind of situation.
"I guess," Sam finally said. He sat up, legs crossed next to his body, and leaned his elbow on his knee. "He swears I came through the force by myself. It wasn't any help or influence of his. He said..."
"Of course you didn't need his help," Gene cut him off. "His influence. If he ever tried, man's a moron."
He managed a wan smile. "Thanks." The smile fell away. He bit the edge of his thumb, thinking. Wondered if he should tell Gene about the relationship between Williams and Morgan before deciding against it. Everything in that area was still too uncertain for him, too fraught with danger. The less he thought about it, the better. "He wants me to go to Hyde. Talk with him. See my things. See if it helps me to remember anything."
"Not a bad idea, I guess." He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, face blank. "You going?"
"I don't know." He bit his thumb again, then shrugged. "Not now, I suppose. Got a case to work on."
"You know he'll kill you if you go to Frank," Williams piped up suddenly, the fear Sam was coming to expect evident in his voice. "If he finds out about us.
"Shut up, he thought back viciously. And then, "There is no us. There's a him and a you. I'm not part of that equation at all."
All he got was a snort in the back of his mind.
"Anyway," Sam said, a bit too loudly into the silence. "I guess I'll make breakfast."
"Naw, you don't do it right. I'll make it."
He frowned. Blinked. Tried to see if he was understanding correctly. "You mean... you mean I can take first shower?"
"Poof," Gene muttered, rolled his eyes, and left the room.
Sam lay back in bed after Gene left. Pulled the covers around him and closed his eyes. Breathed in deeply, smelling Gene and sex and smoke. The stale, comforting scent of Gene's home and his clothes and just...
He wasn't quite sure he could believe this. Believe how much had happened, what had happened, so quickly. Just a few days ago, his desire for Gene had been completely sublimated, so deeply he hadn't been aware of it at all. Now, he was in Gene's bed, at Gene's house, where Sam had spent the past few nights, and Gene was cooking him breakfast.
Of all the unreal things that had happened since arriving in 1973, this was the most unreal. The most unreal and, yet, it felt right. Like he'd finally found the reason he was here, why he'd been sent here. Why he'd come back.
A slow, stupid smile slid over his face. Lit him from the inside until he couldn't stop grinning. Couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up through him. The joy.
He lay in bed a few more moments, letting everything wash over him, before he finally dragged himself out of bed.
After he showered, he wiped the mirror down so he could shave. Williams was standing in it, looking despondent.
"What?" Sam snapped, not wanting anything to spoil his mood, especially his fragmented psyche.
Williams sighed. "Nothing."
"Then go away. I'm in a good mood and don't want to deal with you."
The other man sighed again. "Yeah, I know. Good mood, I mean. You're in love with Hunt, aren't you?"
Sam, who was raising the razor to his face, stopped. His fingers tightened. "I... I dunno. I suppose I might be on my way." He swallowed and shrugged. "I only just realized I wanted him."
"But you slept with him."
"Were you in love with Morgan the first time you slept with him?" he asked, eyebrow arched. He slid the razor over his cheek, baring a clean line in the shaving foam.
Williams squirmed. "I don't know. Yes, maybe."
"How old were you?" When Williams cut his eyes away, Sam said gently, "Please tell me. So I know what I'm up against. Even when he lies. I need to know. Tell me."
He sighed. Squirmed some more before mumbling, "Fourteen."
"Fourteen?"
Williams flinched back and disappeared from the mirror.
"Sam. Sammy, come back. Sammy."
The door opened. "You talking to yourself, now?"
His heart leapt to his throat. "Gene."
"Expecting someone else?" Gene walked in and kissed the clean stripe on Sam's face. "Breakfast is ready. I'm gonna shower then I'll join you." He kissed Sam's neck, then moved to the shower. After turning on the spray, he moved to the toilet.
And here was the line of domesticity that Sam wasn't ready to cross. "Gene, give me a minute. I'm just finishing." He finished shaving and wiped off his face.
Gene shot him a look. "This offends your delicate sensibilities. Why am I not surprised?" He opened his robe and pulled out his dick. There was a splash as liquid hit liquid.
"Yeah, well, I'll see you downstairs." He quickly slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He still had clothes in the guest room, and he dressed, stomach rumbling. "Sammy," he said softly into the mirror above the dresser. "Sammy, come on, talk to me. Come back."
"I don't want to. You'll just judge."
"I'm not judging you. You've done nothing wrong. Nothing." He went to the mirror and tapped on it gently. "Come on. Look at me."
There was a sigh and then Williams flickered into view. His eyes were downcast, hands stuffed into his pockets, and, for the first time, Sam realized that Williams always wore the same outfit, the one Sam had found himself wearing the day he'd woken in this body.
"Thank you," Sam said. He let his hand fall away from the mirror. "So. You were fourteen. And did it happen like in the dream? He came into your room while you were sleeping?"
"Sometimes. I guess. Not the first. It came on slowly. I don't want to talk about it." He set his mouth in a thin line.
"Sammy."
Williams crossed his arms over his chest, lower jaw jutting out. It was disturbing to see that petulant expression on his own face. He looked like a child.
He sighed. Stepped back from the dresser. "We'll talk later, then. Just think about it. Maybe if you tell me what happened between you and Morgan, we can figure out what happened to us. You heard what Annie said. Split personality, if that's what we are, might happen because of some kind of abuse."
"He didn't abuse me. He loves me."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "He couldn't wait until you were legal and capable of deciding what you wanted. That's not love. That's... ownership."
"Yeah, well, next time you're gasping for air after Hunt's beat the tar out of you, come back and tell me all you know about love."
"It's just the way we communicate! I do the same to him. And he hasn't done it so much since I got back." His stomach growled again, reminding him of breakfast downstairs. "Look. I'm not saying that you don't have every right to love Frank Morgan. I don't know the man. But I don't love him, and as long as I have control of the body, we're staying with Gene. And you've already said that you're fine with me running our life."
"I am."
"So why are we fighting?" he snapped.
William shrugged. "I don't... you keep needling me about what happened."
"Right. Well." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just don't want to have any more dreams, that's all. And if I end up going to see Frank, then... then I want to know. What you'd know. As much as I can." His stomach growled again. "I'm going to eat breakfast."
Williams cracked a sudden smile. "I can't believe he made you breakfast. He musta really liked whatever you did last night."
"You weren't there?"
"Not paying attention. I was asleep or something, or wherever I go when I'm not aware of what's going on." He licked his lips. "So. Was it good?"
Sam couldn't stop the grin. "Yeah. It was. Real good."
Williams returned the smile, although Sam couldn't help but notice the look of longing and jealous on his face. "Well. Cheers, then, mate. Least you coming back, then, wasn't the wash I'd thought after the thing with Annie didn't pan out. I mean, you know. 'cause you deserve to be happy."
"Thanks." He turned away from the mirror, wondering if Williams could see his frown or hear his thoughts. Because, yes, he was happy, deliriously so, at least right now. But, when it came down to it, it wasn't his body. And, well, didn't Williams deserve to be happy as well?
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
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Awareness crept on him gradually. He was warm and in an unfamiliar bed. Soft, comfortable. Definitely not his. Someone was pressed next to him, breathing but otherwise not making any noise. Human, then, not something that crawled from the telly. Not that that'd happened for months now, but, still. Thank God.
Sam crawled a bit more towards consciousness carefully. There were fingers on his face, touching gently. Exploring. Tracing Sam's eyebrows and down his nose. Over his cheekbones, down his jaw and over his lips.
Gene.
The fingers continued their exploration as Sam fought not to do anything to disturb the other man. Didn't want to stop this by waking up, because alerting Gene that he was, indeed, awake was the surest way to do that.
So he lay there and allowed Gene to do his exploring. It was much better than what he'd expected to happen the morning after they'd spent the night in bed together. For reasons other than a concussion. He'd expected--feared--that he'd wake up by being dumped out of bed and punted down the stairs. He was pleased at being wrong.
The blunt, calloused fingers traced down his collarbone. Toyed at the indent where the two bones met before sliding down Sam's chest. Moved slowly, as if feeling the bones under Sam's skin, before skirting the edge of a nipple.
He jerked, unable to stop himself. Gene's fingers were rough and Sam was sensitive.
There was a moment where they were both still. Sam held his breath, hoping Gene would continue, hoping he wouldn't be put off.
The moment was broken by the mattress shifting as Gene rolled away. There was a rustling sound, then the metallic flick of a lighter. A second later, smoke filled the air.
Sam sighed. "I wish you wouldn't smoke in bed," he said.
Gene snorted. "Twenty years of marriage never stopped me from doing so, not about to stop now."
"It's gonna kill you, you know," he said, rolling onto his side. He propped his head on his fist, looked up at Gene. "Like it killed Harry Woolf."
"Is this your idea of brilliant morning after conversation?" He flicked ashes off the end of the cigarette and finally looked at Sam.
Sam smiled up at him. "Not exactly." He swallowed. "So, uh. You regret it?"
"What?"
"Last night?"
Gene blew out a stream of smoke, eyes rolling. "For God's sake, Dorothy, is it something pathological with you? The need to question every bloody Goddamn thing?" He sucked hard on the cigarette.
"I just... wasn't sure... some men have reacted badly and..."
"Seduced a lot of men, have you?" Gene gave him a speculative look, then shrugged. "Not surprised, what with that face and tight arse." He took a last drag on the cigarette before stubbing it out. "I'm still here, ain't I?"
"You are." Under the covers, Sam slid his hand over Gene's stomach. Leaned in and kissed the first body part he could reach, which happened to be his shoulder.
Gene leaned over and kissed the top of Sam's head before sliding down, further under the covers. "So. What changed your mind?"
"My mind?"
"Bout coming over. Thought you weren't going too. Felt like shite and needed to think about things, because, Lord knows, you don't do that enough."
Sweat prickled along Sam's spine, remembering the nightmare that had panicked him. Not his nightmare, not his memory, but his fear. Lying, vulnerable, at the mercy of someone who was supposed to be taking care of him.
He shrugged it off, taking the opportunity to slide closer to Gene. "Um. Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd do better here." He glanced up at Gene. "Got used to it, I guess. Staying in the guest room. Didn't mean to wake you."
"Wasn't sleeping. Guess I got used to you snoring in the guest room."
"I don't snore."
Gene snorted. "So, that it, then? Just a general coming to your senses? Cause I coulda told you that going back to that piece of shit flat of yours wasn't going to work."
Sam smiled and lay back on the pillows. Stared up at the ceiling. "Next time I'll bow to your infinitely superior wisdom regarding such matters." Then, as Gene snorted, a huge pressure exploded up through Sam's stomach and chest. The words spilled from his mouth with hardly a thought. "I called Frank Morgan."
There was a beat of silence, Gene stilling beside him. Then, he got out of bed. Crossed the room to the wardrobe. "Oh? What he have to say?" He pulled out a robe and pulled it on.
"Just, uh. Some stuff. About growing up. I had no other family to take me in, so he did." His skin was suddenly hot and head too light. Thinking about it. All the implications.
How old were you, Sam he thought, wondering if Williams could hear him. How old when Morgan began paying visits to your bedroom?
The only answer was a rather pointed silence.
"Nice man, then. Considering." Gene's voice was level, flat. Toneless, really, and Sam couldn't blame him. He wouldn't know what to say, either, in this kind of situation.
"I guess," Sam finally said. He sat up, legs crossed next to his body, and leaned his elbow on his knee. "He swears I came through the force by myself. It wasn't any help or influence of his. He said..."
"Of course you didn't need his help," Gene cut him off. "His influence. If he ever tried, man's a moron."
He managed a wan smile. "Thanks." The smile fell away. He bit the edge of his thumb, thinking. Wondered if he should tell Gene about the relationship between Williams and Morgan before deciding against it. Everything in that area was still too uncertain for him, too fraught with danger. The less he thought about it, the better. "He wants me to go to Hyde. Talk with him. See my things. See if it helps me to remember anything."
"Not a bad idea, I guess." He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, face blank. "You going?"
"I don't know." He bit his thumb again, then shrugged. "Not now, I suppose. Got a case to work on."
"You know he'll kill you if you go to Frank," Williams piped up suddenly, the fear Sam was coming to expect evident in his voice. "If he finds out about us.
"Shut up, he thought back viciously. And then, "There is no us. There's a him and a you. I'm not part of that equation at all."
All he got was a snort in the back of his mind.
"Anyway," Sam said, a bit too loudly into the silence. "I guess I'll make breakfast."
"Naw, you don't do it right. I'll make it."
He frowned. Blinked. Tried to see if he was understanding correctly. "You mean... you mean I can take first shower?"
"Poof," Gene muttered, rolled his eyes, and left the room.
Sam lay back in bed after Gene left. Pulled the covers around him and closed his eyes. Breathed in deeply, smelling Gene and sex and smoke. The stale, comforting scent of Gene's home and his clothes and just...
He wasn't quite sure he could believe this. Believe how much had happened, what had happened, so quickly. Just a few days ago, his desire for Gene had been completely sublimated, so deeply he hadn't been aware of it at all. Now, he was in Gene's bed, at Gene's house, where Sam had spent the past few nights, and Gene was cooking him breakfast.
Of all the unreal things that had happened since arriving in 1973, this was the most unreal. The most unreal and, yet, it felt right. Like he'd finally found the reason he was here, why he'd been sent here. Why he'd come back.
A slow, stupid smile slid over his face. Lit him from the inside until he couldn't stop grinning. Couldn't stop the laughter bubbling up through him. The joy.
He lay in bed a few more moments, letting everything wash over him, before he finally dragged himself out of bed.
After he showered, he wiped the mirror down so he could shave. Williams was standing in it, looking despondent.
"What?" Sam snapped, not wanting anything to spoil his mood, especially his fragmented psyche.
Williams sighed. "Nothing."
"Then go away. I'm in a good mood and don't want to deal with you."
The other man sighed again. "Yeah, I know. Good mood, I mean. You're in love with Hunt, aren't you?"
Sam, who was raising the razor to his face, stopped. His fingers tightened. "I... I dunno. I suppose I might be on my way." He swallowed and shrugged. "I only just realized I wanted him."
"But you slept with him."
"Were you in love with Morgan the first time you slept with him?" he asked, eyebrow arched. He slid the razor over his cheek, baring a clean line in the shaving foam.
Williams squirmed. "I don't know. Yes, maybe."
"How old were you?" When Williams cut his eyes away, Sam said gently, "Please tell me. So I know what I'm up against. Even when he lies. I need to know. Tell me."
He sighed. Squirmed some more before mumbling, "Fourteen."
"Fourteen?"
Williams flinched back and disappeared from the mirror.
"Sam. Sammy, come back. Sammy."
The door opened. "You talking to yourself, now?"
His heart leapt to his throat. "Gene."
"Expecting someone else?" Gene walked in and kissed the clean stripe on Sam's face. "Breakfast is ready. I'm gonna shower then I'll join you." He kissed Sam's neck, then moved to the shower. After turning on the spray, he moved to the toilet.
And here was the line of domesticity that Sam wasn't ready to cross. "Gene, give me a minute. I'm just finishing." He finished shaving and wiped off his face.
Gene shot him a look. "This offends your delicate sensibilities. Why am I not surprised?" He opened his robe and pulled out his dick. There was a splash as liquid hit liquid.
"Yeah, well, I'll see you downstairs." He quickly slipped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He still had clothes in the guest room, and he dressed, stomach rumbling. "Sammy," he said softly into the mirror above the dresser. "Sammy, come on, talk to me. Come back."
"I don't want to. You'll just judge."
"I'm not judging you. You've done nothing wrong. Nothing." He went to the mirror and tapped on it gently. "Come on. Look at me."
There was a sigh and then Williams flickered into view. His eyes were downcast, hands stuffed into his pockets, and, for the first time, Sam realized that Williams always wore the same outfit, the one Sam had found himself wearing the day he'd woken in this body.
"Thank you," Sam said. He let his hand fall away from the mirror. "So. You were fourteen. And did it happen like in the dream? He came into your room while you were sleeping?"
"Sometimes. I guess. Not the first. It came on slowly. I don't want to talk about it." He set his mouth in a thin line.
"Sammy."
Williams crossed his arms over his chest, lower jaw jutting out. It was disturbing to see that petulant expression on his own face. He looked like a child.
He sighed. Stepped back from the dresser. "We'll talk later, then. Just think about it. Maybe if you tell me what happened between you and Morgan, we can figure out what happened to us. You heard what Annie said. Split personality, if that's what we are, might happen because of some kind of abuse."
"He didn't abuse me. He loves me."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "He couldn't wait until you were legal and capable of deciding what you wanted. That's not love. That's... ownership."
"Yeah, well, next time you're gasping for air after Hunt's beat the tar out of you, come back and tell me all you know about love."
"It's just the way we communicate! I do the same to him. And he hasn't done it so much since I got back." His stomach growled again, reminding him of breakfast downstairs. "Look. I'm not saying that you don't have every right to love Frank Morgan. I don't know the man. But I don't love him, and as long as I have control of the body, we're staying with Gene. And you've already said that you're fine with me running our life."
"I am."
"So why are we fighting?" he snapped.
William shrugged. "I don't... you keep needling me about what happened."
"Right. Well." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just don't want to have any more dreams, that's all. And if I end up going to see Frank, then... then I want to know. What you'd know. As much as I can." His stomach growled again. "I'm going to eat breakfast."
Williams cracked a sudden smile. "I can't believe he made you breakfast. He musta really liked whatever you did last night."
"You weren't there?"
"Not paying attention. I was asleep or something, or wherever I go when I'm not aware of what's going on." He licked his lips. "So. Was it good?"
Sam couldn't stop the grin. "Yeah. It was. Real good."
Williams returned the smile, although Sam couldn't help but notice the look of longing and jealous on his face. "Well. Cheers, then, mate. Least you coming back, then, wasn't the wash I'd thought after the thing with Annie didn't pan out. I mean, you know. 'cause you deserve to be happy."
"Thanks." He turned away from the mirror, wondering if Williams could see his frown or hear his thoughts. Because, yes, he was happy, deliriously so, at least right now. But, when it came down to it, it wasn't his body. And, well, didn't Williams deserve to be happy as well?
