Sam gasped as he was thrown against a filing cabinet; another in a long line of hard surfaces that Gene had decided Sam needed to be thrust against. The man in question was bellowing in his face, globs of spit landing on Sam's cheek as the older man raved about something or other: if he were being entirely honest, Sam had stopped listening some time ago, his mind had wandered virtually the moment his back met the cold metal.
There was something about the physicality of Gene's particular brand of castigation that made Sam's blood fizz in a way he hadn't felt since his initial police training days. The way Gene seemed utterly incapable of imparting information without touching him, coupled with the alpha male, testosterone fuelled, in-your-face presence was really starting to get to Sam and he was finding it increasingly difficult to contain his emotions around his superior officer, a fact that both excited and perplexed him in equal measure.
Sam's inattention to the man standing mere inches in front of him had not gone unnoticed and he was brought back down to earth with a bang when Gene flicked him smartly on the nose.
"Oi, Gladys. You finally got a date with the plonk or summat? Daydreamin' about the wonderful, mythical Hyde you seem to love so much? Get yer 'ead out yer arse and do as yer bloody well told," Gene punctuated his speech with a shove to the centre of Sam's chest, which as he was still pressed hard against the filing cabinet had little effect other than to reinforce Sam's growing suspicion that Gene secretly enjoyed manhandling him.
Straightening his leather jacket and pulling himself up to his full height, Sam pushed away from the metal surface and sauntered out of the office, trying to look as unruffled as possible as he passed Ray's desk; inwardly cringing as he noticed the other man's eyes sweep over his arse as he walked.
Standing over the canal, Sam inhaled the stench emanating from the brackish water and shuddered, the body currently being dredged from the murky depths only added to the foul odour. Leaning over the discoloured body, Sam tried to think about forensics, procedure, the football - anything to stop his stomach contents from meeting the tow path. In the corner of his vision, Gene leaned on the mossy wall, the green leaving a stain on his trademark camel hair coat - Mrs. Hunt would not be pleased - eating an egg butty as though there wasn't a rank, decomposing body a few feet away from him.
Gene finished his sandwich and, screwing the wrapper up into a tight ball, lobbed it into the canal, wiping his hands on his slacks and turning to face Sam.
"Right. Who is she? Where 'as she come from? And who 'as she nagged sufficiently to end up 'ere?" Gene barked, tone brooking no argument as to what he expected from his officers. Looking at Sam he continued, "An' you, my picky pain-in-the-arse DI, can eat yer 'eart out with those forensics you have such a stiffy for."
Sam didn't know whether he had imagined the twinkle in Gene's eyes as he articulated the word, 'stiffy' but now was not the time to be thinking about that little conundrum, or about how the possessive way Gene had said 'my picky pain-in-the-arse DI' made Sam feel euphoric and smug at the same time.
With Chris in tow, Sam started the evidence gathering procedure, mind switched fully on to the job in hand as he tried to stop Chris from ballsing up the scene, attention absolutely on the job; he had no time to consider anything other than skin and hair and causes of death.
Gathered in the Railway Arms at the end of the day, Sam looked around and felt like he was actually inside a seventies cop show. He could see how his mind could create such characters and situations, could see the point in the macho, neanderthal DCI and the eager junior with the excess hero worship, could even see the point in the rival officer with a grudge but what made no sense to Sam at all, was how real it all felt. He breathed in deeply, the sights, the smells, the emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
Gene slapped him on the back as he raised the glass to his mouth and almost knocked it out of his hand.
"Penny for 'em."
"Just thinking about things in general," Sam replied distractedly, the heat from the Guv washing over him in comforting yet unsettling waves.
"Oh well that answered the question," Gene said, heavy sarcasm lacing his words.
"You didn't ask me a question," Sam retorted, going over the conversation in his head just to be sure.
"That attention to detail is startin' to get very annoying Sammy-boy."
Sam looked down at the bar, his fingers millimetres from Gene's, just a tiny movement and they'd be touching and why did Sam want that so much? Gene turned to face him, green eyes sparkling in the smoky light, mouth ever-so-slightly upturned in what nobody else would recognise as a smile and Sam returned the grin, showing his teeth and feeling truly alive for the first time in a long while.
The smell of Old Spice almost overpowered from so close up, and Sam is close; intoxicatingly, dizzyingly close. Gene had him pressed up against a hard surface, which one, Sam had no clue; everything around him was fuzzy, surreal, the only thing sharply accented is Gene. A heartbeat later and Sam had an armful of seventies cop, he leaned close and suddenly they were kissing, really kissing: powerful and bruising and utterly earth shattering. Gene pulled back, looked into his eyes and whispered...
"Dorothy... Wake up you pansy arsed, nancy-boy."
Sam emerges into consciousness to find Gene looming over him, the door to his flat in a splintered mess on the floor. The image from his dream lingers hazily and for a moment Sam can't tell the difference between the two worlds but then he's hoisted bodily off the bed and the dream-Gene is unceremoniously shattered.
Looking down his own body, Sam flushed hotly: his cheeks felt as though they were on fire and he had - if he did say so himself - a quite considerable erection. Bracing himself for the punch he was sure would come at any moment, he risked opening one eye. Gene had his arm in a vice like grip and was looking down at him with a strange expression on his face, then as if a spell had been broken, Gene shook himself and dropped Sam like a stone.
"Good dream was it Gladys?" Gene said with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on his face.
Sam couldn't answer, his face burned red hot and feeling like Gene could see inside his head he studiously looked at the floor, avoiding eye contact, until Gene - presumably having tired of Sam's intense embarrassment - turned his back.
"No time for a quick hand shandy Sammy-boy. Start thinking of Phyllis and 'urry up about it, I'll be in the car," Gene growled as he walked out of the flat, leaving Sam alone and mortified.
Tearing around the streets of Manchester in Gene's Cortina, Sam held on for dear life, closing his eyes against the onslaught of objects that threatened to come crashing through the windscreen at any moment.
"Steady on Guv," Sam pleaded, fingers wrapped so hard around the door handle they glowed white.
"How many times have you been in the Gene Machine? And have you ever known your pathetic, whiny, girl pleading to 'ave any effect? No, so shut it, yer puttin' me off," Gene said, hands a blur on the steering wheel as he manoeuvred the car.
Sam decided - just this once - to listen to his uncontrollable DCI and concentrated fully on not having his internal organs liquidised by the time they arrived at the crime scene.
Careering particularly fast around a tight corner resulted in Gene groping blindly at Sam's thigh whilst searching for the gearstick, and Sam swallowed down the gasp that threatened to escape and tried to picture Ray shagging. A shudder passed through his entire body and Sam noticed Gene glance at him curiously from the corner of his eye, an unreadable expression on his face.
Pulling up behind the patrol car next to waste ground, Sam resisted the urge to kiss the cracked and weed-ridden tarmac, anticipating that it would probably lead to an unprecedented amount of mockery from the Guv. He was, after all, already way over his embarrassment quota for the day, thanks to his overactive imagination and bad timing.
He stepped over to the body being peered at by - seemingly - half of Manchester and took a deep breath, barking his orders at the local uniformed constabulary who appeared to have done nothing to secure the scene, and who hadn't even stopped an opportunistic student from taking a photo. Gene stood slightly behind him with his arms folded over his chest, happy to let Sam take over the scene and calmly raking his eyes over the watching crowd.
"Let's pretend for one moment that we are police officers and this is a crime scene," Sam screamed at no one in particular, sighing when his words caused nothing more than a listless shrug from the gum chewing plod stood over the body. Rubbing the bridge of his nose and turning round to find Ray and Chris standing beside the Guv, he continued in a much more subdued manner. "I want the scene sealed off, I want a fingertip search of the area and I want statements from all these people."
"Right you are Boss," Chris replied eagerly, getting out his notebook and walking over to the nearest by-stander with a flourish. Tripping halfway and almost landing on his face, he straightened his tie and carried on towards the crowd.
"Well Gladys, do you think you can keep yer hand off yer flagpole long enough to solve this case? Or am I gonna 'ave to bandage those mitts?" Gene said with a smirk which widened as Sam started to protest his innocence, walking away from the younger man and further infuriating him in the process.
Preparing to leave CID for home - the pub containing far too much temptation both of a liquid and a gruff, male-bonding obsessed, irresistible DCI nature - Sam swept his jacket from the back of his chair and made for the door, getting barely halfway when the gateway to Gene's lair swung open and the man himself emerged.
"Tyler!" Gene screeched, although Sam was almost certain that if the Guv were asked to define the noise he'd just made, manful bellowing would probably be nearer to what he'd say.
Turning around slowly and trying to give himself time to school his features into a neutral expression, Sam locked eyes with Gene and felt his stomach flutter, immediately admonishing himself internally for behaving like a love-sick schoolgirl.
"Yes Guv?" Sam replied carefully, placing his hands in his pockets and hoping that Gene hadn't noticed the trembling of his fingers.
"Pub?"
"No I thought I'd take some of these case notes home and try to find something we've missed," Sam said quickly, turning to leave before Gene could argue.
A strong hand grabbed his arm and he was shoved against the nearest wall, actually having to walk several paces before arriving against it. Gasping heavily as the breath was knocked out of him, Sam felt the first tendril of panic snaking its way along his insides - a litany of, 'please don't, please don't, please don't...' had started to fill his head until he couldn't think anything else. Gene's body weight was pressed against him and the two men just stood and looked at each other; both knowing they were stood at a precipice, not knowing whether they would fall or stand back.
"Yer always distancing yerself Sam, are we not good enough?" Gene growled, breath washing over Sam's face and he was perfectly aware that Gene was not talking about the team.
"I just didn't want to..." Sam trailed off as Gene leaned impossibly close, "...I didn't want to push it until it breaks," he finished in a whisper.
Gene gulped hard and Sam could feel his boss tremble as he was pressed against him, knowing that if he didn't want to get punched, he had to let the Guv make the first move.
Just when Sam was starting to give up all hope, Gene surged forward, crushing the air out of the younger man and covering his lips with his own.
The kiss was gentle and soft and not at all what Sam was expecting. Realising that Gene had probably only ever kissed women, Sam started to kiss back, thrusting his tongue in deep and moaning softly into his superior officer's mouth, smiling when he felt Gene's arousal pressing against his hip. Bringing his hands up to tangle in blonde hair that was so much softer than it looked, Sam tried to get even closer, counting the seconds until Gene freaked out and hit him, even as he threw himself into the mind-searing joining of their lips.
Gene pulled back and Sam's breath hitched as he gazed at his Guv; breathing heavily and with his lips shiny from Sam's saliva he looked absolutely mesmerising, as the seconds hung in the air between them.
"Pub?" Gene said, voice gravelly with lust as Sam gaped at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "Pub an' then bed," Gene qualified, running his hand down Sam's body and giving his erection a squeeze.
Gene turned and started to walk away, swagger slightly compromised by the erection Sam was sure his boss still had.
"And that's it? We just go to the pub like nothing happened?" Sam said, starting to annoy himself with the whiny quality of his voice, knowing he was playing with fire and yet unable to control the words spilling from his mouth, "You don't think we should talk about this?"
"Bloody 'ell Tyler, stop being such a woman." Gene rolled his eyes, "A man could die o' thirst. Come on, you can sample the Gene Genie soon enough."
Sam shook his head as if to clear the alien image in front of his eyes. This was not at all how he'd imagined this might go, he'd thought there'd be repression and denial from Gene, maybe some violence; he'd imagined the sex would be rough and quick and that he'd be left alone afterwards, cold and used. He did not imagine that Gene would casually kiss him, touch him up and then want to go to the pub and he certainly hadn't imagined that there'd be no violent repercussions, no soul searching, no fight. A part of him was disappointed but then he reminded himself that he still had tonight, still had hours of teasing the Guv ahead of him. He adjusted his softening erection and followed Gene out of the door, a spring in his step and a smile on his face.