Title: The Internet is For Porn
Rating: Brown Cortina
Word Count/Length: 1458
This fic is inspired by and written for Loz and talkingtothesky for the amnesty challenge “Out of Time” and features quotes from the amazing Ammunition written by the gorgeous lozenger8 . It was whipped into shape by the lovely xiilnek
Summary: Gene discovers the joys of the internet and slashfic.
To put it quite simply, Gene is bored. If this were 1973 Manchester he'd have plenty to do. There's always scum to collar and pints to drink at the Railway Arms. But that was then and this is now and according to one picky pain DI... err... sorry, DCI this is 2006 and that's not the way things are here (although Gene suspects he's probably lying).
Gene's afraid to touch anything in here, everything is so cold and sterile, much like Sam himself had been when they first met. He walks around the living room and stops at a shelf. There's a picture of Sam when he was younger, wearing his bobby uniform and standing next to what appeared to be a much older version of Glen Fletcher. Gene picks it up and smiles as he runs his fingertips over the image. He catches himself acting like a lovesick bastard and immediately puts the picture back on the shelf, knocking something over in the process and breaking it.
Deciding to find something a little safer he remembers Sam telling him he could either watch telly or give the computer a try. Well, he can watch TV back home whenever they get back so he might as well take advantage and give the internet a try. Sam had left the laptop out for him after showing him how to turn it on. He gave him a mobile and showed him how to call if he needs anything.
Sam kissed him, promised he'd bring dinner home and that he'd see him after work. He then left and Gene is on his own with nothing to do.
Gene sits down in front of the computer and switches it on. “This ain't so hard”, he thinks. The machine powers up and he's left wondering what exactly he's supposed to do now. Sam mentioned something about the internet and apparently you can find anything you can possibly think of on it so that's bound to kill some of the boredom.
He stares at the desktop for a moment, unsure of how he is to actually get on the internet but he trusts his instincts and clicks the little round globe with the fox wrapped around it. A window pops open with a box and “Google search” written so you don't have to be a detective to work out what to do next. He types “Gene Hunt” into the search box out of curiosity and 1,090,000 results pop up. Tits on a toaster.
Among the results is a link to something called “lifein1973“. He clicks that is greeted with a very brown page. He sees an entry tagged with the words “fic type: slash”, “fic type: pwp” and “Sam/Gene” and although he has no clue what the first two phrases mean he wants to know how this person knows he and Sam and why they're writing things about them. He follows the link and starts reading.
"It’s been a long time since he’s been touched in this way. He doesn’t really remember the last. And Gene’s pumping him forcefully, holding nothing back."
“What sort of depraved bastard...”
"Sam bucks with each stroke, wanting and needing in equal measure. Gene’s hand is hard and hot around him, lips trailing against his neck. It’s so tight, and rough, and heat creeps over Sam like night over day."
Gene feels himself start to harden despite the fact that he should be more concerned with how this got here and why it's depicting, in rather graphic detail, he and Sam going at it like rabbits in heat.
The bulge in his trousers is straining now so he palms his hand over it to relieve some of the pressure but it doesn't work.
"He just needs a couple more strokes and he.... God, if Gene would only... if there were a little more friction... if he’d just twist to the left... and Sam comes, crying out around Gene’s lips and shuddering through his release."
Oh, God. He's so hard it hurts so he undoes his trousers and reaches in to free his cock. The air is a balm to his aching erection and he grants himself a couple firm strokes, taking it slowly, wanting to draw this out until he's at least finished the story. A low, involuntary moan escapes his throat as he continues reading.
"Sam gasps for breath as Gene takes his sensitive cock into his mouth, licking at his come and swirling his tongue around the slit."
This is filth, absolute filth but oh, so good. This is better than he could have imagined and he's imagined quite a lot since being with Sam. It's been a long time since he's had to do this. These days his hands spend more time on Sam's cock than his own so he takes his time getting reacquainted with himself.
He slides his hand up and down his erection, playing with the wetness leaking from his slit and spreads it slick down his length. Gene bites his lip to suppress another moan and can taste the tinge of blood on his tongue
"Sam hears Gene spit and then feels a finger pushing against him. He reflexively tightens, but Gene licks around the rim again and suddenly he’s in to the first knuckle, rubbing around and around."
His breathing is shallow and he desperately wants to give in and toss himself off properly but he can't bring himself to tear his eyes away from the screen. He's flush and sweating slightly from the strain of keeping himself from coming so soon.
"He can’t say how much time passes, too caught up in the feel of the skilled fingers fucking him open."
Too damn right, “skilled fingers” indeed.
He leans back in the computer chair and lifts and spreads his legs further apart. Feathering his fingertips down his erection until he reaches his own tight hole. He teases around his rim before dipping a finger inside. He wishes Sam were here doing this to him instead but the poncy git left him to his own devices and Gene really can't wait for him to return. He needs a release and needs it now. He adds another finger to assist the first and starts fucking himself while taking a hold of his cock with his other hand in a similar rhythm.
"Gene strokes in and out with aggressive rapidity, angled to hit that spot inside. Sam never wants this to end, even though he can tell it’s going to very, very soon."
He can feel it. The familiar burn clawing its way up his spine and the tightening of his balls. He tightens his grip and allows himself to speed up, determined now to finish what he started. He's moaning loudly now, holding nothing back with his eyes screwed shut and his fist tight around his cock. Sam's name is on his lips when he comes, his release spilling hot over his fingers.
Gene's asleep on the settee when Sam comes home with dinner. He sets the bag on the table and walks over to Gene, dropping a kiss to his forehead and finds him shivering and soaking with sweat. He shakes him gently awake.
“It's time for your medicine, Gene”
Gene stares up at Sam, bleary-eyed and then remembers the dream he had. He reaches down between his legs and groans. Fuck, he thought he left wet dreams behind when he was a teenager but apparently not. He's embarrassed and doesn't tell Sam about the weird trip to the future but Sam doesn't seem concerned about any of that. He's more worried about Gene's health than anything.
“It's okay, Gene. C'mon, let’s get you into the bath.”
He helps him to the bathroom and strips his clothes off of him and gets him into a tub of cool, running water. Gene complains it's too cold and Sam explains it has to be to lower his fever. Kneeling beside the tub he starts washing Gene, letting the cool water pour over him.
Once he's clean Sam helps him out and dresses him in a clean pair of underwear and vest.
“I brought food home if you're able to eat.”
“You need to eat something. You've been so sick the last three days that I think you've finally become delirious.”
“Good job I've got you to take care of me then, Sammy-boy.”
Sam helps him up the stairs to their bed and covers him with a thin blanket. He gives him his medicine and afterwards Gene closes his eyes and it's not long before he falls asleep with Sam keeping vigil.