Ficlet: Romance, Gene Hunt Style
Title: Romance, Gene Hunt Style Rating: Blue Cortina Wordage: 400 words Summary: The title really says it.
"You know, you don't bring me flowers.."
"What!"
"You never sing me love songs..."
Gene bent forward - which required little effort, as Sam was sitting astride his thighs - and sniffed. "You been on the booze?"
Sam twirled one finger through the hair on his lover's chest, expression contemplative. "It's a song. Barbara Streisand.." He paused in his twirling. "No, wait, not released yet. Let's not go there. But anyhow, I've just realised, there is no romance in your soul, Gene Hunt."
Gene slid his hands around Sam's arose, stroking the full buttocks where they rested across his legs. "You just noticed this? Bloody smart detective you are."
"Well, one of us should be romantic. We are lovers, after all."
"That's a queer word, if you ask me," Gene responded, clearly unimpressed.
"What, lovers? But we are. You and me. Glorious, sensual, intimate, gay lovers."
Gene winced. "Enough with the gay thing. We shag. Let's not get too deep into the terminology."
"Perhaps," Sam said slowly, as he resumed his twirling, lingering around the hard nipples, "I need to be courted. Ever thought o'that?"
"Why yes, Samuel, I did, right before I rogered you last night, but it didn't seem the time or place." Gene sighed, eyes narrowing at the feel of that tantalizing finger. "I've never been good at poetry. Your verse started with: 'yes-fuck-me-hard-Gene'. What rhymes with that?"
Sam leaned forward and rested his cheek against Gene's chest as he slipped both arms around Gene's body. He said nothing, just lay there, his breath stirring the hairs, hearing the regular thump of Gene's heart.
Gene cleared his throat. "Ah, Sam."
"Hmm?"
"I need to pee."
Sam laughed and looked up. He saw the affection, and the confusion, because Gene would never completely understand him and had no idea how to comprehend his Sam, except through time and touch and giving himself in a dangerous and vital intimacy.
"Yeah, right. A man has to have his priorities." He arched up, kissed the quirked mouth, and slid sideways. "I'll be here when you get back."
Which was true on all levels. He was where he needed to be, and so was Gene.