Using words like a trickster (liquorishflame) wrote in 1973flashfic,
Using words like a trickster

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Remix by liquorishflame

Title: What Do Poofs Do?
Remix of: What Do Girls Do? by dorsetgirl
Rating: Sam/Gene, Brown Cortina
Spoilers: Vague for 1.4.
A/N: I'm sorry I'm late, life got in the way, also, I wanted to do the original justice. Even so, I may have made a sow's ear out of a silk purse.

It seemed, Gene thought as he eyed Sam across the room, that whenever you wanted something, no matter how desperately, it was forever beyond your reach.
Case in point: his DI.

Don't give him a name, because if you start naming him, then he's more then your DI. Call him Gladys, Mabel, Dorothy, or even Tyler, but in the name of Christ, don't call him Sam, or worse Sammy.

Sod it all. It was a mess, he was a mess. A terrible, horrible, sodding mess, and it was all Tyler's fault. Everything was Tyler's fault. The way his arse looked so good in them jeans, the way Sam Tyler would suddenly look up at him over the paper work and grin, the way that he felt when they were in the middle of a shouting match and instead of punching him he wanted to kiss him instead, that were Tyler's fault too.

And the biggest fault yet: Tyler seemed completely oblivious to it. May as well be on the other side of the moon, far as he was concerned. Didn't seem to care or notice the way he felt, bloody hell, "the way he felt". Soon he'd be growin' tits an' mincing around in a pink neck scarf an all.

Blo-oo-dy hell.

Did he say his biggest problem was Tyler was oblivious?
Correction: the biggest problem was Gene Arthur Hunt was a bloody coward. Could not get the bottle to say two words in that direction. Something had to be done, or he'd explode, or shag Tyler in the middle of CID, and while the idea was appealing, it wasn't what you'd call "subtle".

Lastly and most important: he needed to know that it was what Sam wanted. Oh he knew Tyler felt something for him (there was that damned word again). He'd seen him looking, but knew there'd be no help there. Whenever he looked his way, Tyler'd do his best Claude Raines. Namely, he'd disappear.

Which was why he was in this nameless tip of a pub with 'im, doing his best impression of Dean sodding Martin on a Friday night, waiting to get pulled.
His DI was hoverin' over him like a mother hen, but wasn't takin' the to speak.
Best move things along then.

He swiveled on his bar stool, eyeing the man next to him.

'Whutre you lookin' at, ya big fairy?'

The man just stared, then went back to his pint.

'Oi! I'm a memb'r of th' p'lice. I c'n arr- arra-arres- nick you 'fore you c'n say 'God save th' Queers!" .'

The man was glaring at him now. Good, good.
Tyler appeared at his elbow. 'All right Guv, that's enough.'
One more prod, just to make it look good.
'And you can stop lookin', arse-face, or I'll see you outside!' he slurred, making the arse in question pucker even more.

'Okay Gene! Let's go.' He allowed Tyler to heave him off his feet by his jacket collar, offering a completely unnecessary apology to the arse an' barman as he did so. He put up a struggle for appearances, hoping he weren't overdoing it as he were frog marched outside.
All right, part one accomplished. Now onto part two...which is?
Bloody hell, what do poofs do?

Took him a moment for the rusty gears to start as he swayed there, then took a step forward. Unfortunately, he'd misjudged 'is footing in the dark, and fell to the ground with all the grace and dignity of a wet bag of shite. Lying there, he thought about how ridiculous it were. It'd been so much easier before, you'd walk in on a mate havin' a wank, offer a helping hand, and then wham, bam, thank you mister. Why's he puttin' himself through all this?

'Come on Guv, up you get.' Tyler's voice is full of warmth and humour almost. Probably just feelin' sorry for his broken down Guv. As he'll pulled to his feet, he shook him off, pulling back.

'Piss off Tyler, can't I have a moment's peace?!'

All the sudden dizzy, fallin' into his DI's waiting arms like Scarlett bleedin' O Hara. For a second, they're frozen like that, him sprawled there like some bird on a romance cover, Tyler lookin' at him like he's just dropped in from Mars.
Christ, what do poofs do?
Kiss 'im.

Slowly, he leans forwards towards Tyler an' stops, all shy an' not like his smooth Gene Genie self, hoverin' there like some bloody great dragonfly.

But that don't matter now, 'cause Tyler's kissin' him, so shy and clumsy it makes him want to have his wicked way with 'im here an' now. He surges back against him, slipin' him the tongue, grinding against him, making the other man gasp. It feels bloodly brilliant, it feels like the day he put on the Uniform, feels like the day he was promoted to DCI, feels like the day he and Sam punched out Litton together.
It feels like all of these things and none of them, and better then all three.

He can't stop thrusting up against Tylers (Sam's), hard, hot little tigh, feels so good, so bloody amazing. Oh God, he needs more, wants more, get on with it Sam, come on my son! What do poofs do? Who knew that Gene Hunt'd be cast in the birds role, having to just lie back and think of England, so to speak. Not that he really minds, but he thought when it came up to it, the Gene Genie'd dazzle him with his brilliance.

Come on Sam! He bites Sam's neck, making him gasp and squirm against him, rewarded by an eager hand against his todger. Ah yes, yes that's the way! Then the same hand pulling on his zip as Sam looks him in the eye, as if they weren't doing something illegal an' dirty an' downright deviant, but like it was the most normal thing-
His thoughts are interrupted by the hand on his tackle and he groans, kissing and thrusting. He's on the vinegar stroke now, giving his all as Sam curls a firm, callused hand around his length, tugging, pulling...!

He comes and comes for what feels like forever, his groans mixing with Sam's, the both of them gasping into the dark city night.

Collapsing against Sam shoulder, he leans against the cool leather. He feels sweaty, sticky an' sated, closing his eyes as he breathes in Sam's smell.

Tyler, bless him, has got his act together, and tidied 'em both up. Figures he'd even be tidy about this. Then he's following him along the way, then up the stairs towards the flat. And he can't resist grabbin' Sam again, kissin' him and e's kissing back. S' a good kisser too. Better then any bird Gene's ever had, maybe even better then the Missus

Sam's pulled him close, rubbing his hands over his back and he feels good, feels so good he drops the act, pulling back and looking into his DI's eyes, holding his face between his hands. Sam looks all flushed, confused, but happy, definitely happy as he smiles at him. He smiles back, and pulls him down to sit on the side of the bed. He wants to say...dunno...."Good job, nice work Inspector?" He kisses him instead. He's ready to marry the bastard, that's how soppy he's feeling.

'That were a good one Sam.'

Oh Christ, Sam's gawking at him like he's grown a third head, and he can't blame him.

'Make a pretty good actor, don't I!'

He's still lost for words, and Gene can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad.

'That, was an act?'

Now he looks confused and angry. Oh Sammy...

'Nah Sammy boy. Think I'd let you "have at it" if it weren't what I wanted too?'

'How long have you known?'

Gene sighs as he leans back, running a hand through his hair.

'Long enough.'

Sam looks at 'im, a strange look on his face. Sorta like a man who's pulled the trigger, and instead of hot lead, gets a little flag that says "bang".

'You knew...and you didn't mind?'

The poor daft sod.

'Why would I?'

Sam throws back his head and laughs, revealing a very tasty neck. Gene scoots closer.

'Tylerrr...' It comes out as a sort of purr. Sam looks back down. 'What?'

'Don't do that.' He leans over and licks the bare flesh, makin' Sam shiver.

' long've you been planning this?'

'Ever since the pub job. Had an apostrophe.'

Sam grins, bringing up a hand to stroke his hair. 'Epiphany.'

'Yeh well...Thought if I were smashed, you could make yer move.'

'Oh, I'd make my move?' Sam sounds like he's trying not to laugh.

'Yeh, gotta be subtle with you Tyler, yer not like other blokes.'

The hand in his hair stops and he wonders why.

' "Other blokes?" '


'What, you thought you was the first?'

'..Wasn't thinking Guv.'

He winces at the title.

'Well don't start now! We all have urges Tyler.'

Sam gets up and walks to the window, back tight and straight. Gene stands, letting out a huff of frustration.

'Look Tyler...' He puts out a hand, but it's shrugged off.


'Oh quit yer sulking Susan! You think, after five years without, I'd go fer just anyone?'

His DI turns around to look at him, but he can't read 'is face, it's in the shadow. Makes him right worried.

'I go with someone, gotta make sure he's worth it.'

He holds his breath a little. He can feel 'im looking at 'im. Then he moves, and Gene can see 'is smile lightin' up the room like dawn.

'I am?' he says, half cocky, half asking.

He smiles back, and pulls him into a kiss.

'Oh yeah.'
Tags: remix challenge

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