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Fic: Guess Who's Coming to Dinner (LoM)

Posted on 2009.10.26 at 15:19
Current Mood: draineddrained
Tags: , , ,

Well, actually it's not entirely, but at some point I'll write a coda for this which will feature the extremely porn-y end scene that I fully expect to run into another couple of thousand words, and therefore don't have time to do now.

So, herewith my Ficathon entry for 2009. Written for hammerxsword to the rather yummy prompt "Sam meets the Missus, too much alcohol, comedy/drama"

(Sam/Gene, Brown Cortina. Somewhere short of 3000 words. Just so you know.)


“Honestly, Guv, I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”

Gene snorted. “Course it’s not a good idea. It’s a bloody terrible idea. Taking my cocky pain in the arse DI – the same cocky DI I’ve been having it away with in the flippin’ lost property office, lest we forget – home to meet the Missus? Bloody daft, that’s what it is.”

There was a pause as Gene threw the Cortina round a tight corner with unnecessary violence, while Sam fought to keep himself from being strangled by the seat belt. He’d got into the habit of always strapping in after coming into sudden and painful contact with the windscreen a while back, when Gene had made an unexpected ‘emergency’ stop. (“Oh quit whingeing, Flora, a bloke needs his bacon butty of a morning. And don’t you dare bleed on my upholstery.”)

“Thing is, it’s not my idea, is it?” Gene continued once both the car and Sam were back under control. “In fact, I was dead against it from the kick-off, but the wife insisted. Says she wants to get a look at this dazzling young copper I’m always on about.”


“Well, all right. Her exact words were something like ‘Surely he can’t be that much of an idiot and still have a job.’”

“Right. Thanks for that.”

“Anything for you, Tyler.” Gene met Sam’s glare with an innocent beam. “Any road, she decided she wanted to judge for herself.”

“And you couldn’t just say no?” Sam’s tone was incredulous going on sceptical.

“She was very – insistent.” Sam’s gaze sharpened at the uncharacteristic note of hesitancy in Gene’s response. “Look, Tyler – Sam...” Bloody hell, was that the beginnings of a blush? Well, that was new.

“Oh, sod it.” Gene gave up. “You’ll understand when we get there. She’s not the easiest to say no to, that’s all.”

“Oh. Okay then.” Sam decided the best course of action was to let it drop, despite being more than a little intrigued. Suddenly the evening ahead promised to be a lot more interesting than he had anticipated.

The car pulled into the drive of a tidy-looking three-up-two-down in the suburbs. Sam had been as far as this before, on the very few occasions when he had managed to cajole or wrestle the keys off the drunk-and-barely-capable DCI after a particularly heavy session at the Arms. He’d park up in the drive, watch from the pavement as Gene let himself in, then stroll (or stagger, depending) the mile or so to the night bus stop.

Come to think of it, the last time he’d made the journey out, Gene had turned out to be not in the slightest bit incapable. Sam had set off towards the end of the street, but made it less than fifty yards before he was sent flying by a tackle from behind – and honestly, how did the Guv manage to cover that distance that quickly and that quietly anyhow?

Before Sam had even had time to yell, he was manhandled under a thick and concealing clump of laurel bushes, the lower branches arching over and around them like a tent. With Sam’s arms pinned under his back, Gene had wrenched open his jeans. Shoved them down the bare minimum to get the job done. And sucked him off, fast and almost brutal, until Sam couldn’t tell which of the myriad stars he was seeing were real.

Sam came, and came hard, biting down hard on his lower lip to muffle the desperate sounds threatening to break free. And when he could finally force his eyelids apart again, Gene’s face was right there, inches from his, grin as smug as Sam had ever seen it. Sam watched, spent and spellbound, as Gene’s tongue flicked out, licking over swollen reddened lips with a downright sleazy eroticism that had Sam’s exhausted cock twitching feebly.

He’d given Sam a pat on the cheek, crawled backwards down and off, and was gone, without a word, Sam lying dazed for several minutes before finding the strength to pull his clothes and his head back together, clamber out of the canopy of bushes and head home.

He felt himself harden slightly at the memory, glanced almost involuntarily at Gene. He was met by a defensive glare that did little to mask the underlying nervousness. He dredged up what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

“Listen, Guv,” Sam chose the title deliberately, and saw something in Gene’s eyes settle in recognition of the familiarity, “it’ll be fine. Good. We’ll have dinner, a few drinks, I’ll make charming small talk till it’s time to go, then you can drop me off. Fair enough?”

“Hmm.” Gene sounded unconvinced, but pushed the door open and got out, squaring his shoulders with the kind of resolution more appropriate to someone facing a firing squad than to a man approaching his own home, his own wife. Sam couldn’t help wondering exactly what the DCI wasn’t telling him.

The front door opened onto an airy hallway, pale magnolia walls scattered with delicate-looking flowers picked out in peach and white, the peach repeated in a swirling pattern on the brown carpet. Not necessarily Sam’s ideal decor; nevertheless, compared to some of the atrocities he’d been faced with since his return to the era that fashion forgot, this was pretty much a pinnacle of elegance. Mrs Hunt was clearly a lady of taste.

“Through here, Tyler,” Gene said without preamble, gesturing towards a half-open door. Sam obediently went through into a spacious sitting room, dominated by a large bay window which looked out onto an impressive display of hydrangeas. Still no sign of the enigmatic Mrs Hunt, though.

“Right then. Drinks. I’ve got a couple of bottles of plonk in, or if you’re not feeling quite as much of a fairy as usual there’s bound to be a can of Mackeson’s about somewhere. Or a scotch.”

“Now now, Gene.” A light, impossibly mellifluous voice floated in from behind them. “I’m sure we can do better than that. Can I offer you a gin and tonic, Inspector Tyler?”

Sam turned, his automatic half-smile falling from his face as his mouth dropped open despite himself at the vision that confronted him. Bloody hell. Well, that explained a few things – not least, why the Guv went to such trouble to keep his wife safely under wraps. The woman in front of him – although simply, almost conservatively dressed – nevertheless radiated sensuality without apparent conscious effort. Sam was vaguely reminded of Mrs Luckhurst, Gene’s conquest at the now infamous sex party. Except that Mrs Luckhurst just wasn’t remotely in the same league.

Sam remembered his manners with effort.

“Thank you, that would be great.” His voice came out deeper, huskier than he had intended, and he noticed a gleam of interest in her eyes as he stepped forward. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Hunt.”

She moved towards him, meeting him half way, offering an impeccably made up cheek. His lips met smooth softness, his senses flooded momentarily with a heady combination of flowers and spice.

“Please,” her voice dipped to match his own tone, “it’s Lorraine.” She smiled, a display of perfectly even, perfectly white teeth that turned something inside Sam to a quivering mess. “And the pleasure is mine. I’ve been looking forward to meeting you for a long time, Inspector.”

“Sam,” he breathed. “Please, call me Sam.”

“Sam,” and the way her lips closed around the syllable was a living poem. Sam was paralysed, speechless. He realised he couldn’t feel his toes.

“Right.” The snarled word dragged Sam back to reality. He took a couple of steps back, instinctively responding to the pointed menace in Gene’s tone. “Now the civilities have been taken care of, maybe we could get those drinks. Mine’s a scotch, Lorraine.”

She turned away from Sam, including her husband in the smile. “Of course, love. Won’t be a mo.” She glided out of the room, Sam forcing himself not to admire the extremely fetching rear view. He had a feeling that he was in enough trouble as it was.

Sure enough, as soon as Lorraine had disappeared from view, Gene lost no time in crowding Sam up against the nearest wall.

“Having fun?” he growled, eyes sparking hot with fury and a promise of retribution that sent a rush of blood to Sam’s face. Deliberately casual, Sam tilted his head slightly to one side, and smirked.

“I don’t know, Guv. It’s early days yet.” He injected an innocence into his tone that, he knew from experience, was guaranteed trouble. “You have a charming wife.”

Gene’s hand, resting on the wall near Sam’s head, balled into a fist, and Sam could tell that he was aching to hit something. Well, him specifically. “Yeah. I could tell you were getting on all right from the way you were all over her like a rash.”

“Oh, come on. I kissed her on the cheek. I was being polite. I know it’s a concept that you’re not entirely familiar with, but in civilised company it’s quite common.”

Expecting an outburst, Sam had to admit to himself he was a little un-nerved when Gene smiled. “Come off it, Tyler. You’re a tart. You know it, and I know it. But I’ll tell you this much – and I’m only going to say it the once, so you’d do well to listen first time round...”

He leant in close, voice soft in Sam’s ear, puffs of warm breath sending shocks of sensation through Sam’s entire body. “If I were you, I’d pack it in. Right now. Or else the seeing to I’m going to give you when I get you back to yours is going to be the least of your worries. Got it?”

Sam brought his hand up to lie on Gene’s still clenched fist, thumb tracing gentle patterns as he nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think so.” A shiver of arousal swept through him as it occurred to him just how much fun he could have with the evening. He grinned, cocky and challenging, holding Gene’s gaze. “I’ll do my best. Guv.”

The deep, ragged breath that Gene took was everything Sam had hoped for. “Tyler, you...”

“Here we go.” Gene pushed himself away from Sam, still glowering, as Lorraine came back into the room with a tray of drinks, apparently not noticing either the proximity or the tension between the two men. “Bottoms up, everyone,” she said cheerfully.

It was too tempting. Sam couldn’t resist a smirk at Gene, didn’t even try. “Cheers,” he answered, lifting his drink off the tray and saluting Gene before bringing the glass to bump softly against Lorraine’s. “Cheers,” he repeated, quieter this time, for her alone.

“Your very good health, Tyler,” Gene said loudly and aggressively from behind him. Sam turned, noting with vindictive appreciation the disgruntled expression on the Guv’s face. His smirk deepened, he couldn’t resist a wink. Oh, tonight was going to be fun.

Throughout what was unquestionably a fantastic dinner – and Sam, not for the first time that evening, found himself wondering why the hell Gene was playing about with him, when what he had at home was pretty much perfect – Sam enjoyed himself ruthlessly putting his newly-formed ‘wind Gene up’ plan into action. As the wine flowed in a constant, seemingly inexhaustible stream, he began to feel giddy, reckless, tuned in with increasing sensitivity to every flinch and glower he received in reward for what, it had to be admitted, was pretty outrageous flirting.

Lorraine seemed well up for her part in the game, although it became increasingly obvious to Sam that, despite all the oh-so-casual hand touching, the moistening of already moist lips with the dainty tip of a tongue, the low sultry laughs and near-whispered confidences, there was nothing more sinister in Lorraine’s motivation than there was in his own. Mischief-making, pure and simple.

Gene, though, seemed completely oblivious to the reality of the dynamic, his contribution to the dinner conversation going from sarcastic through openly sharp to gruffly monosyllabic. And Sam might have taken pity, backed off, except that it pissed him off that Gene was there with his wife and his – what? Bit on the side? Lover? (“Oh God,” Sam thought in a brief moment of horrified clarity. “I’m his bloody mistress!” before drowning the revelation in another glass of Liebfraumilch) yet still claimed the right to be jealous of a bit of harmless flirting.

Not to mention the fact that all the hot glares and bitten-off comments, coupled with the promise-threat of what would happen later, were keeping his pulse that little bit faster than normal, his cock at an optimistic half-mast. Had switched onto mute the rational, self-preserving parts of his brain that it would have been wiser to listen to more carefully.

To be fair, it probably was taking things a step too far to let Lorraine feed him a sweetly tart Cointreau-soaked cherry, especially given the provocative way she chose to draw it slowly across his lower lip first – and there was no way he could have held back the soft gasp he let out; it was a completely natural, uncontrollable reaction to the unexpected stimulation. But that definitely didn’t mean it was a good plan to suck the tip of her finger into his mouth, to chase after the sticky alcohol with his tongue. And the matching grins they sent Gene’s way probably sealed it.

Gene stood up so fast that his chair toppled over backwards, hitting the carpet with a heavy thud. He bared his teeth, a parody of a smile.

“Well,” he forced out, “I can’t remember when I’ve had so much fun. What a pity it’s time to call it a night. Still, busy day tomorrow. Best get you home, Tyler.”

“Oh, I am sorry,” Lorraine said, standing up as well. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know Sam – I must say, he’s not at all what I expected from the way you described him.”

Sam’s and Gene’s snorts came out in unison.

“Why so busy, anyway?” she continued. “Have you got a big case on or something?”

“Oh, you know how it is, love...” and Sam felt suddenly sober, his attention fully focussed. He knew that tone. “...just standard copper stuff. There’s always a few things need taking care of. I can think of one thing in particular that needs seeing to – sharpish. Isn’t that right, Tyler?”

Sam closed his eyes briefly against the ferocity in Gene’s stare. It occurred to him, belatedly but powerfully, that he might just have pushed too far this time. He tried diversionary tactics.

“Yeah, you’re right, it is getting a bit late. But listen, don’t worry about dropping me off – you’ve had a few, and I know my way to the bus stop. And I’m sure...”



“Shut it.”

Right. Sam sighed. “Yes, Guv.”

He stood, leant across to kiss Lorraine’s cheek for the second time that evening, keeping his touch deliberately light and chaste. “Thanks. It’s been a lovely evening, and a really delicious meal.”

She accepted the kiss and the compliment, drawing back gracefully but immediately. Game over. “No problem, Sam. It really was a pleasure. I do hope we can do it again sometime.”

“Yes,” Sam said, more in hope than expectation. “So do I.”

She stood at the door watching, backlit by the light from the hall, as Gene got into the Cortina, the slam echoing in the quiet stillness of the evening, the engine roaring into life before Sam had even had the chance to get his door all the way open. He sketched a slight wave. “Bye,” he said softly, but she didn’t answer, probably didn’t even hear, and moments later Gene was reversing out into the street and she was out of sight.

The journey was, to say the least, tense, Gene’s breathing heavy as though he was working up to saying something but hadn’t quite decided what. When he finally jerked the wheel round, screeching to a halt at the side of some random road, it was almost a relief. He twisted in his seat, hands grabbing Sam’s jacket and pulling him in towards him.

“Right then, you little bastard. Any other bloke looked at my missus like that, I’d feed them their own knackers through a straw. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do the same to you.”

Sam held his gaze. “Because you’ve got other plans for me.”

“Don’t push your luck, Sammy-boy.” The anger was still there, but joined now by something more speculative. “I’d say you owe me. An apology, for starters.”

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” Deliberately, he closed the already small gap between them. “But if you want that, you’re going to have to work for it. So...”

He pressed his lips gently against Gene’s, not so much a kiss as a statement of intent. “How about you start the car, get me back to mine, and you can set about making me sorry.” He gave Gene a dazzling grin.

The rest of the journey home was conducted in record time.


Crystal dagger
andres00 at 2009-10-26 16:21 (UTC) (Link)
You said it's comedy! Yeah, it's funny! But the ending without showing how Gene set about making me sorry in graphic words, it's just cruel. I hope Gene having his Sammy plan at the road. I'd waited it with Sam all the way.
Sam's innocent and naive way is so lovely, he doesn't know really why Gene wants him beside the wife. And Lorraine is one of my few Gene's nice missus. I think I understand her.
Although the ending is a personal torture for me, it's just great, thank you very much. And I totally agree with it's comedy, still it includes some dangerous factor which adds spicy tastes to its fun.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-26 16:48 (UTC) (Link)
Glad you enjoyed it, and especially that you liked Lorraine - a lot depended on her coming across effectively. And thanks for commenting.

You said it's comedy
Actually, the prompt was comedy/drama. I'd say (I hope) that this has a bit of both. Ultimately, the dramatic tension inherent in this situation means that, for me anyway, it was never going to be one big barrel of laughs.

But the ending without showing how Gene set about making me sorry in graphic words, it's just cruel
I feel your pain, trust me! But, time constraints notwithstanding, I honestly do believe this story is concluded here, and the next scene is best kept separate. (I kind of missed the porn myself, though, which is why the interlude in the bushes came about!)

Thanks again. :)
silvaa at 2009-10-26 19:05 (UTC) (Link)
oh why did you end it there! Perfectly pitched, I could see Gene just getting angrier and angrier across the table, and honestly funny too. Great stuff :D

I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-26 20:01 (UTC) (Link)
Glad you liked it! And thanks for commenting, and I definitely intend to write another chapter to this. :)
severinne at 2009-10-26 19:06 (UTC) (Link)
Well, fuck me. *dies*

That was INSANELY hot!! Holy crap, I'm salivating here, and it hasn't even gotten to the juicy, dangerous smut yet. Please tell me there's dangerous, smutty smut happening soon?!? Not that all the tantalizing hints aren't giving my filthy imagination plenty to work with, but I REALLY want to follow them to Sam's place, like, right now.

Lorraine was a delightful take on the missus, and she was a great foil to the sexual tension between Sam and Gene - the way she conspires with Sam to tease Gene, her complete indifference to Gene pushing Sam into the wall before drinks, it's like she knows what these two are getting up to, and the idea that she does know, and approves, is ridiculously hot. As was Gene tackling Sam under the laurel bushes. So hot. Did I mention this was hot?!?

I could go on, but then I'd probably start shouting and this isn't helping me finish my own Ficathon contribution in the slightest - yeah, I'm got my own Part 2 issues, but yours are way sexier. Thanks for the delicious distraction! *g*

I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-26 20:09 (UTC) (Link)
Please tell me there's dangerous, smutty smut happening soon?!?

Oh okay, there's dangerous smutty smut happening soon. (Want the moon on a stick, some people! XD ) I just felt that the scene that follows deserved its own chapter rather than being tagged on the end of something else.

I'm thrilled that Lorraine came across OK, and yes, I think she's pretty much aware of what Gene and Sam are up to. She started off as just being a bit of a hottie, because I thought it'd be funny if Gene had a babe hidden away, but she sort of took on a life of her own.

Good luck with getting your Part 2 sorted - I have absolutely no doubt it'll be terrific. :D
msmoat at 2009-10-26 19:40 (UTC) (Link)
Right, so, you know I've had a bit of a panic day, but I did find time to read this and...thank you! That nicely took my mind off my present worries. *g* I could hear the voices and see this happening just as written. Heh. Well done!
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-26 20:13 (UTC) (Link)
Oh, I'm delighted you enjoyed it - actually, I'm pretty touched you took the time to read it at all, given everything else. Thanks! ♥
mamishka at 2009-10-26 21:17 (UTC) (Link)
That was deliciously fun and delightful, but it does make me wonder. If Mrs. Hunt is such a tremendously luscious treat, why is Gene fooling around with Sam and why doesn't he feel like a heel for it?

I'm rather hoping this question comes up (and is answered) in the fic that is to come.

Lovely dialog and yes, I can totally see Sam pushing Gene's buttons and flirting just to get a rise out of him. Hell, even if there wasn't going to be a sexual payoff, I could see him doing it. ;)
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-27 19:00 (UTC) (Link)
If Mrs. Hunt is such a tremendously luscious treat, why is Gene fooling around with Sam and why doesn't he feel like a heel for it?

Fair question, especially the second part. As for why he plays away, a lot of people do without any particularly strong motivation; also Sam clearly offers something that Lorraine, no matter how awesome, can't. There is certainly potential for a fic that explores this angle, not to mention how aware/complicit Lorraine is. Whether I end up writing it, or just producing a pornfest, I'm not quite sure yet!

Glad you founf it fun - thanks for commenting. :)
hammerxsword at 2009-10-26 21:44 (UTC) (Link)
Oh wow! This was so funny and sexy. Loved Lorraine's character very much, and the blow job in the bush at the beginning was really terrific. A lot of lovely moments too. Thank you!
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-27 19:03 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you - I'm really pleased you liked it. :DD It was a gift of a prompt that made for fun writing. (That blow job is a classic case of characters hijacking a story - I had no clue Gene was going to do that!)
angeweeks at 2009-10-27 08:08 (UTC) (Link)

Nggggggggggggggggggggggh. *asplodes*

By the way, I think you finished it in just the right place. *nod nod*

And the bush interlude (fnarr) was perfect. Hot and perfectly written. *adds to mems*
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-10-27 19:13 (UTC) (Link)
Oh YAY!!! *always gets over-excited at being memmed*

Glad you enjoyed it so much (although a little concered by the explosion - should I call in a cleaning service?)

(I had a feeling the bushes incident would *heh* go down well!)
angeweeks at 2009-10-27 20:41 (UTC) (Link)
Don't worry, it was a *cough* controlled explosion...*g*

PS: Marvellous icon. *applauds*
(Anonymous) at 2009-10-30 21:36 (UTC) (Link)
This was great. It really kept me guessing where it was going. I much prefer a Mrs. Hunt who is likeable and a match for Gene rather than someone who he is shackled to.

I do think it was a great place to end it, but I have to admit that I'd LOVE to read what happens next!

And just out of curiosity. What exactly is memmed? I keep seeing that word, but have no idea what it means. Just curious.

I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-11-05 10:11 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you! Sorry about the delayed response. I'm really glad you liked my take on Mrs Hunt - I haven't written her like this before, but I thought it'd be fun.

(Memmed - added to 'memories'. There's a little heart icon somewhere on the page that you can click if you find a fic you really like, or any post you think you might want to find again easily. It's useful for making posts easily accessible).
saintvic at 2009-11-06 14:06 (UTC) (Link)

Absolutely loved it. The tension and the humour are there throughout the whole dinner scene. Love how Sam and Lorraine are both winding Gene up in such a playful fashion, and it made me wonder exactly how much she knows about Sam and Gene and why she would insist on the invite. But there is tension as well as Sam realises he is the "mistress" and you can feel Gene getting jealous as well. And I do love jealous Gene *happy sigh*.

The voices are spot on as well, I especially liked:


“Well, all right. Her exact words were something like ‘Surely he can’t be that much of an idiot and still have a job.’”

“Right. Thanks for that.”

The dead pan delivery of the last line just leaps into my head when reading it.

Plus very very hot with all the little Sam/Gene moments and the promise of more.

Thanks luv.
I, being poor, have only my dreams.
bistokids at 2009-11-08 16:02 (UTC) (Link)
Thank you! I wondered myself about Lorraine's motivation - I think it's more a question of having a level of control over things than anything else. This particular version of Mrs Hunt doesn't seem overly concerned about her husbands's shenanigans (and I would imagine isn't entirely driven snow herself) but does want to know what's going on. And it was fun having them both teasing Gene at dinner!

I'm glad you enjoyed it, and especially that the voices sounded OK - it's been a while! Thanks. ♥
Strike while the irony is hot
draycevixen at 2009-11-23 04:55 (UTC) (Link)

Finally catching up... *g*

I don't normally like to think about the Missus too much or like to assume/point out that she's already left so I'm surprised by how much I enjoyed this story. <--- That's a compliment btw.

I love that you made Lorraine so lovely and that you had Sam pondering why Gene would want anything else and with him. I also loved the surprise BJ under the laurels. These may seem like unconnected statements but they're not in that what really got to me is that you show everyone in a really positive light, Gene is affectionate, Sam is smiling, Lorraine, the good natured flirting... and yet, as Sam points out, here's Gene with his wife and his bit on the side. It shouldn't be this, well, nice and warm and yet it is.

Thanks Petal. ♥
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