This story is about extremes—and about finding happy middle ground between them. So I have a thing for Billy Joel. Sue me.

Warning: Non-con (don't worry—happy ending), slash, lemon. If any of those squick you, best move on to another story.


I Go To Extremes


Gene had given Sam another mountain of paperwork to take care of. He sometimes felt like he was Bob Cratchet and Gene was Ebenezer Scrooge. He tried hard to get everything filled out and filed away before "beer o'clock" rolled around, but he was often unsuccessful. And he knew Gene planned it that way.

"Not done yet, Daphne?" Gene demanded as the others were preparing to leave.

Sam shook his head, not bothering to look up from his desk.

Gene picked up a file folder. "Here, I'll take this one for you." He looked over at Ray. "You lot go ahead. We'll be along." Then he shut himself away in his shabby office.

Sam soldiered on, knowing it was hopeless.

Once everyone was gone, Gene opened his office door. "Need a word about this file, Alice," he said simply.

Sam knew "a word" wasn't what he really wanted. And it wasn't about the file. Still, he got to his feet and made his way over, like a student called to the front of the class for a punishment.

The moment he was inside and the door closed, Gene was on him. This time he felt his back hit the smooth surface of the wall and he was glad it wasn't the filing cabinet—one of these days, Gene would break his spine. He wasn't sure it was worth fighting... in fact, he was becoming fairly sure that it wasn't. He let his jacket be tugged off without putting up a struggle; he was less complying when Gene started working on his shirt.

"Keep still," Gene said sternly.

"Guv—"

Gene silenced him by pressing his mouth to Sam's. He immediately forced his tongue inside, and all Sam's attention was taken up in not gagging and continuing to breathe. When Gene finally came away, all Sam's buttons were undone and his shirt was quickly dragged off him.

"Gene, please..."

Gene grabbed fistfuls of Sam's undershirt and pulled it upward. "What?" he asked distractedly.

"Please, can't we just..." Sam obligingly tugged the shirt to the side and pulled one arm out of it; then the other. "...take it slow for once?"

"Girl." Gene pulled the shirt over Sam's head and dropped it on the floor with his other discarded clothing. He pressed against Sam, running his hands up and down his DI's bare arms and kissing him forcefully again.

Sam could feel Gene's erection through their clothes and he hated that he liked it. How did we come to this? he wondered for the hundredth time. Neither of us is gay. He always came to the conclusion that Gene just needed an extra little power trip... and Sam wanted so badly to please him that he couldn't quite bring himself to refuse. Couldn't fight as hard as he should. Maybe I could love him... if he weren't so rough.

Gene was shrugging out of his own shirt, now; throwing it away with his tie; unfastening Sam's belt; unfastening his own.

Sam actually tried to get away then. It had been a long time since he'd tried a legit escape. But Gene caught him at the door and shoved him face-first into it.

"Going somewhere, Gladys?"

The door felt cold against Sam's bare chest. "Please, just let me go, Gene. This isn't what either of us really wants."

"I think I know what I want." Gene took Sam by the shoulders, digging his fingers in as he turned him around. "Get those keks off. Now, Inspector. That's an order."

Sam knew he was perfectly at liberty to refuse the order of a superior if the order was immoral, but he also knew what would happen if he didn't comply. He removed his boots first and then his socks, stalling for time. Finally, he removed his trousers.

By this time, Gene was down to his underpants as well. He took Sam by the neck and pulled him forward and down. "On your knees, son."

Sam was trembling now as he knelt on the floor. He hated this even more than having Gene inside him—being forced to pretend he wanted this. If I thought you loved me I could deal with it... but not like this. He took what Gene offered him, putting his tongue out reluctantly and increasing his pace when Gene grabbed little chunks of his hair to remind him who was in charge.

He gagged when Gene came thrusting into the back of his throat. He crouched on the floor coughing for a moment while Gene came back to earth.

"Clean up your mess," Gene ordered.

Sam dutifully cleaned Gene with his tongue, even sweeping it over his shorts where the ejaculate had fallen on it.

"There's a good boy. Now, get on the sofa."

"Everyone's waiting for you," Sam tried, knowing it was probably a lost cause.

"Let them wait. Go on. And drop those pants," he added, swiftly removing his own.

Sam did as he was told and climbed naked onto the sofa. He let Gene position him. Felt Gene's hand come around him to fondle his chest and then work its way down. Concentrated on keeping silent when he felt fingers probing in back. He had to try one more time.

"Please don't do this, Gene."

"Shut up."

"I don't want this."

"You like it."

"Not like this." Sam gasped as two fingers entered together. "Please don't. Gene, I love you." Damn. Said it out loud. God dammit.

"Sissy, pansy wanker," Gene growled. One hand moved to Sam's hip and the other reached around to take his privates in a painful grip.

"No," Sam groaned. He felt Gene pressing inside him then. "Ahh..." he moaned quietly, mainly from the shock of it; then the pain washed over him. Sweat broke out all over his body. "Please stop," he whispered. "Gene, it hurts."

"Stop fighting and it won't hurt so much."

Sam closed his eyes, but the tears got through anyway.

He sat up, chest heaving with every breath. "Oh, god." He looked around. He was alone in his flat. It had just been a dream. The tears were real, though. He put his hands over his eyes and scrubbed the tears away. "Just a dream," he whispered. "Just a dream. Thank God. Just a dream."

He went to CID the same as any other day. They worked on the current case and then Sam settled in at his desk to do paper work. Gene had given him a lot to do again. He doubted he would finish by quitting time... but he suspected Gene had planned it that way.

"Not done yet, Gladys?"Gene inquired as the others were preparing to leave.

Sam shook his head, not looking up from his desk, not wanting his expression to give him away.

Gene picked up a file folder. "Here, I'll take this one for you." He looked over at Ray. "You lot go ahead. We'll be along." Then he shut himself away in his shabby office.

Sam soldiered on, knowing he was still unlikely to finish anytime soon.

Once everyone was gone, Gene opened his office door. "Need a word about this file, Inspector," he said simply.

Sam knew "a word" wasn't what he really wanted. And it wasn't about the file. Still, he got to his feet and made his way over, like someone trying to decide how to act surprised about the surprise party he knew was about to be thrown for him.

The moment he was inside and the door closed, Gene was on him, planting tender kisses on his mouth, his cheeks, his neck. Sam kissed him back eagerly. They began undoing each other's buttons, and soon there were two messy piles of clothing on the floor. He hadn't been wearing his jacket like in the dream, so the process went a little quicker.

"I had the most horrible nightmare about you," Sam said quietly, nuzzling into Gene's neck.

"Oh? What happened?" Gene stroked Sam's hair and moved his other hand over the smooth skin of Sam's back.

"You didn't love me."

"Hm."

"You were just in it for the sex."

Gene gave him a squeeze. "Feel better?"

"Yeah." Sam kissed his way down Gene's chest and then knelt in front of him.

"Sure you want to do this?"

Sam just gave him a smile before taking Gene into his mouth. He moved his tongue slowly until he felt Gene's gentle hands combing through his short hair, asking him for more. He began to suck hard while Gene breathed faster, whispering encouragement. He managed to swallow everything, but he still licked Gene afterwards, while his DCI panted in satisfaction.

Once he was steady on his feet again, Gene pulled Sam upright and kissed him tenderly. "Your turn. Do you want me?"

"Everyone's waiting for you..."

"Let 'em wait." Gene went to his desk to retrieve three things: a flask, a condom and a jar of Vaseline. He handed the flask to Sam, who gratefully took a drink, set the jar on the floor and opened the condom.

Sam twined the fingers of one hand through Gene's hair and savored the feel of his DCI's hands on him. He closed his eyes to shut out everything else while Gene slipped the condom into place.

Then Gene traded the jar for the flask with a murmured "Come on, love," took a swig of whisky and tugged Sam toward the sofa.

Sam took his time getting Gene ready, taking every care that he experience as little pain as possible—though Gene had told him several times that it was all right to be rough.

Crouching over him, Sam whispered, "Ready?"

"Ready when you are."

Sam kissed his shoulder and then his back, smiling at the way Gene squirmed under him. Then he took him by the hips and pushed forward, as slowly and gently as he could.

"You gonna do everything in slow motion?" Gene grunted.

"Sorry, is that a complaint?"

"Bastard."

Sam grinned. He could hear the affection in the abuse. He pressed in deeper, then backed up and thrust forward again. Two steps forward, one back. Gene began to pant and writhe. Sam closed his eyes again, instead looking at Gene with his hands, touching everything within reach. Gene was his. Everything was perfect.

He woke feeling very, very strange. It was just a dream. "Oh, my god," he murmured, lifting the covers. "Great." At least he'd been planning to do laundry soon anyway.

First the nightmare and then that. He had some notion of where the dreams had come from. While he got along with everyone on the team these days—even Ray seemed to accept him now—Gene was the one he really clicked with. He could look at Gene and know that the other man knew exactly what he was thinking. Sometimes they moved as one, both knowing what needed to be done and rising to it together. Sam had had other great colleagues, wonderful mentors and good friends, but no one who had quite resonated with him in this way. Even when they were fighting there was a certain energy to it, an underlying certainty that it was worth it, that it would yield a result.

Besides this synergy there was something else... Gene might be able to read his mind, but sometimes Sam would catch him looking at him and had no earthly clue what was on his DCI's mind. Sometimes it reminded him of how his dad used to look at him: a sort of fond pride. That made him feel very good inside. But then sometimes it was more like something unsaid because it couldn't be shared through words, and maybe it shouldn't be. He'd gotten that sort of look from Maya, and it was confusing coming from Gene.

Put all this together with the knowledge that Gene and his wife were going through a divorce, and you had a recipe for some strange dreams. But... these were very strange dreams. Particularly for a straight man.

He went to CID as usual, trying to put the dreams from his mind. They worked on the current case and then Sam settled in at his desk to do paper work. Gene had given him a lot of reports to fill out, some of which were definitely not his responsibility. Typical. He doubted he would finish by quitting time... that isn't part of some plan, is it?

"Still at it?"Gene inquired as the others prepared to leave.

Sam nodded, not looking up from his desk, not trusting himself not to give Gene a very strange look. The déjà vu was staggering.

Gene picked up a file folder. "Well, this one's really mine anyway... I'll take care of it." He looked over at Ray. "You lot go ahead. We'll be along." Then he shut himself away in his shabby office.

Sam soldiered on, telling himself that while he could predict some events in the future, such a dream premonition was an absolutely ludicrous idea.

Once everyone was gone, Gene opened his office door. "Could I have a word, Sam?" he asked.

Sam wondered if "a word" was what he really wanted. He got to his feet and made his way over uneasily, like someone nominated for an award and not at all sure if he was being called to the stage to receive it, or to be announced last-place finisher.

If Gene had something to say, he didn't seem to be in any hurry. Once Sam had come in and closed the door, he poured out some whisky into two glasses and offered one to Sam.

"What's the occasion?" Sam asked, taking the glass.

"My divorce."

"And... that's something to celebrate, is it?"

Gene shrugged. "Better than brooding. Anyway, it's for the best. She's happier—or she will be, once my lawyer convinces her to take some cash instead of the house."

They drank quietly for a few moments. Then Gene spoke again.

"I fancied her when we were young... fancied each other, I s'pose. And it worked nicely for a lot of years. But a fancy isn't really something to build a marriage on. We were lucky it lasted this long."

"You'll miss her, though," Sam said quietly.

"Yeah, course. I reckon she'll always be sort of family, you know? We're not going to be bitter about it."

"That's good."

Gene emptied his glass and refilled it, topping off Sam's as well.

Sam cleared his throat. "Everyone's waiting for you," he reminded Gene.

"Eh, let 'em wait." Gene sat back on his desk and saluted Sam with his glass before taking his next drink. "You're a good bloke, Sam. I may take the piss out of you on a regular basis, but I know I'm damn lucky to have you."

"Well, I didn't think so when I first got here, but I'm lucky to have you, too."

"You weep with happiness every morning?" Gene asked with a knowing smile.

Sam laughed. "Not quite." He sat on the edge of the desk beside Gene. "If you... need anything... if there's anything I can do, you can just say so."

After a moment of silence and another drink, Gene chuckled quietly. "Well, you may be a poof, but you're my poof."

Sam wasn't sure how to read that.

"How Dorothy are you feeling today?"

"Eh... well, I definitely feel like I'm not in Kansas anymore," Sam answered nervously, trying to sound careless.

"Fair enough." Gene set his glass down and took Sam's away too. Then he slid off the desk and pulled Sam into a hug before the DI had a chance to brace himself.

Sam scarcely moved, images from his dreams flashing through his mind and making him feel a bit hot and bothered. He opened his mouth to say something, but he thought better of it. Finally, he dropped his head onto Gene's shoulder and let himself be held. He felt Gene's hands moving over his back—not seductively; just... caressing him fondly.

"Promise you won't leave."

"I won't," Sam answered quickly, surprising himself a little. He put his arms around Gene. "I already promised Annie," he added, hoping to gauge the situation a little.

Gene sighed quietly and loosened his hold, letting Sam out to arm's length. "I dunno what it is about you, Tyler."

I don't know what this is either, Sam thought uneasily. He'd never expected a hug from Gene, but it had seemed like exactly what he needed. He rather fancied he wanted it back.

Gene put a hand to the side of Sam's face, his fingertips working through his sideburn and into his short hair. He stroked Sam's eyebrow with his thumb.

Sam closed his eyes. He felt Gene's hand slide down to his neck. Then he felt lips pressing against his and he kissed back tentatively. He opened his eyes when Gene moved away.

"How was that?" Gene asked expressionlessly.

Sam swallowed. "Okay."

"Yeah? Does it scare you at all?"

He looked down. "Yeah."

"Good." Gene sounded relieved. "Scares the shit out of me—didn't want to be the only one."

Sam smiled a little.

"We can't be together, you know."

"No... course not. It's the seventies... they'd crucify us."

"But if we could—would you want that?"

"I dunno. I've never done this before." Sam steeled himself and looked up at Gene. "But I... I do love you. If you want to try, then..." He had to look away again.

Gene pulled Sam close again and kissed his temple. "I've got you, Sammy-boy," he whispered. "You great, sissy, Man-U supporting fairy."

Sam could hear the affection in the abuse. He smiled and nestled his face against Gene's neck. Everything seemed to be all right—more than all right. He hadn't been so content in a long, long time.

A little panic came over him then. What if I'm dreaming again? Please, I don't want to wake up this time. It feels so real this time. Please let it be real. He tightened his arms around Gene.

"We'll figure this out," Gene told him. "We'll make it work, eh?"

"Yeah." Whatever it takes. Whatever extreme, desperate measures it takes, you're the best thing, the only thing I have. I'm not letting you go.


I slap myself for not explaining why Sam and Annie aren't together. I hate leaving loose ends like that, and at heart I'm really a Sam/Annie shipper. But Sam/Gene is more interesting to write, I think. I'll have to try a Sam/Annie soon and see how that goes. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed it or have something to add.