Fic: All’s Well That Ends Well, (sam/gene), Blue Cortina
Title: All’s Well That Ends Well
Rating: Blue Cortina
Word Count/Length: 950
Notes: crackfic! Sincerest apologies to Will. For
fawsley (I'm sure she can guess why)
Summary: Sam has a new apartment, with a balcony.
"BUT SOFT! WHA’ LIGHT THROUGH YONDER WINDOW BREAKS?”
Pressing the palms of his hands against his ears, and clenching his eyes shut, Sam vainly attempted to ignore the shouting. Ever since he had moved to his new apartment he had seriously doubted the wisdom of having invited C.I.D back to his place for celebratory drinks. Since learning of his new address almost the entire station had (at some point) delighted in standing below his balcony, in various stages of inebriation, yelling incredibly witty things like “Sampunzel, Sampunzel let down your golden ‘air.”
And now (at 3 A.M) apparently one of those bastards had decided he was Romeo.
Getting out of bed, with the sole intention of pelting the unmitigated asshole with various hard objects, Sam pulled back the curtain and peered outside. As he looked down he was treated to the sight of his D.C.I sitting on the roof of his Cortina, completely hammered (as expected), swinging his legs back and forth like a little kid, his blue-eyes wide open and lighting up as he caught sight of Sam.
Unable to pass up the opportunity to have a good laugh at Gene’s expense (because clearly the man was on something other than ginger beer if he was performing monologues) Sam grabbed his jacket from where it lay on the edge of his bed and pulled it on over his singlet as he moved out onto the balcony.
"It is the east, and SAMMY is the SUN!"
Snorting in spite of himself Sam rubbed at his forehead tiredly, before resting both hands on the banister and leaning over.
"Go HOME Gene you're pissed!"
"ARISE, FAIR SUN!" the man bellowed in response.
“Alright then, you're extremely pissed. Congratulations.”
"And KILL the 'nvious MOON!"
"I thought I warned you ‘bout eating Nelson’s brownies.”
"' 'oo is already sick an’ pale with grief that thou, Gladys, ART FAR MORE FAIR THAN SH-” Sam watched with amusement as Gene spread his arms out for theatrical effect and ended up unbalancing himself, toppling off the roof of the Cortina straight into a flowerbed.
“Better watch it Guv, Mrs Burberry next door would commit murder for those petunias. And frankly I’m off-duty, so don’t go thinking I’d feel obligated to hold her back.” If Gene heard Sam at all he made no indication of it, instead he seemed rather preoccupied with mastering the skill of standing up without falling back down. Once he finally managed it, his eyes were back on Sam. A stupid grin plastered all over his face as he struck a dramatic pose and continued where he left off.
"Be not a PONCE since SHE is ‘nvious. ‘er vestal livery is sick and green... CAST IT OFF!”
The lewd tone in Gene’s voice as he shouted, while making various hand gestures reminded Sam of the last time he’d seen the man this smashed, and as Gene removed his own shirt (swirling it over his head by the sleeve and throwing it to the ground like the world’s most uncoordinated stripper) the déjà vu was almost overpowering.
Deciding that it probably wasn’t the smartest idea to leave a drunk and horny Gene Hunt yelling and stripping in public, Sam fished around in his jacket pockets until he found the spare key he was searching for and threw it down, yelling that if Gene was sober enough to make it up the stairs he could come inside.
He only had to wait ten minutes before the door swung open to reveal Gene, his shirt in one hand, white singlet half tucked into his pants and half falling out, moving his arms out wide and making as if to hug Sam.
“It is MY SAMMY Oh it’s me LOVE. Oh that ‘e knew he were!” Side-stepping Sam avoided the bone-crushing hug and watched bemusedly as Gene started fondling his lamp stand.
“Just what have you been drinking? Lighter fluid?”
He was silenced when the man stumbled towards him, in what he must have intended as a “sexy” saunter, and placed a hand over his lips- effectively “shushing” him.
“Gladys speaks but she says nothin’. What of that? ”
“Mrmph!” Leaning in Gene closed the gap between them, so much so that the man’s lips were almost touching the back of his own hand. Levelling a focused stare at Sam he seemed as if he wanted to say something vitally important and Sam unconsciously leaned in, only somewhat surprised when Gene burped in his face and gave him a content and sleepy smile.
“M’tired now...”
Without further warning Sam was pinned to the ground by the enormous, snoring mass that was Gene Hunt. With some considerable effort Sam managed to push the body off of him long enough to roll out from underneath it. Sighing, he shifted Gene so that he was lying on his side (telling himself it would be a shame if the bugger choked on his own vomit during the night as Sam was really looking forward to throttling him in the morning) and grabbed a blanket from his bed to spread over him. His thoughtfulness was rewarded by the man turning onto his stomach and (loudly) breaking wind.
Deciding that it would probably be wise to allow the flow of fresh air into the room Sam didn't bother shutting the balcony door and climbed into bed, burrying himself deep under the covers.
As inspiration stuck he reached an arm out towards his bedside table for his alarm clock and, with an evil smirk, set it for five-thirty. He then flung it towards Gene and grinned as it made a perfect landing next to the man’s left ear.
Sam couldn’t wait for tomorrow.
***
AN:
For more good ol' Shakespearean fun and culture!vulture Gene see Half Time and Hot Male Nudes by
fawsley :)