2. Rank

Sam woke up late, or early. It was dark, and there was no digital readout or cell phone screen to tell him the time. He guessed it was around three in the morning. A guess, because he did not have a wrist watch and he could not read the face of the analog clock on the wall, even with all the light streaming in from the street outside.

Gene was asleep, naked where Sam left him. He had not moved from that place, or even from the looks of it squirmed at all. Sam studied the bare, exposed man in the chair, wondering why he was still there.

"Gene."

He stirred, and looked at Sam silently. His face was dirty, crusted and glossy, and Sam's heart snapped with confusion. He put Gene in the chair and abandoned him, and he told himself it was a test to see how far he could go, to find out if Gene would allow himself to be treated like that. Beneath that veneer of truth, though, was selfishness, a taunting desire to finally strike back at Gene for so much of the unfairness that he ladled on Sam so many different times. How many times had Gene pushed him – to the ground, into the boot of the car, down stairs, through doors? Gene was always taking Sam to his limits and Sam loved and hated him for it. For this. He loved Gene for taking this, for letting Sam push in kind, but he wondered if Gene would love him in return, or destroy him.

The two men stared at each other in the darkness, light sneaking into the room from the windows. Gene said and did nothing, sitting there staring at him, waiting. His whole demeanor was in invitation of use him, wring him out, and Sam simply did not understand why, but he knew that to turn him out, to pretend this did not happen, to do anything 'safe' would destroy something in both of them. Gene was calling him out, silently from his chair, forcing Sam to chose to be strong, or weak. Stronger, or weaker. Normally it was not a choice with Gene, who was always stronger in nearly every way and his superior officer in the bargain, but right then, Sam made his choice. Gene took Sam's ruthlessness, did not beg for mercy or kindness, much less get up and leave, because he trusted him this far; Sam was going to find out how far, exactly, Gene would go.

Sam rolled up and went to the sink, watching as Gene's eyes tracked him. He wet down a towel with warm water and went over to Gene, grabbed a handful of his hair, tugged his head back gently, and cleaned off his face. He threw the towel aside and put Gene's face in his hands, and kissed him, harshly, all teeth and jaw and tongue. Gene kissed back, his hands on the arm rests, no part of him moving, just taking in the kiss and giving Sam whatever he wanted.

"You're fuckin' perfect, Gene." He whispered, pulling back, knowing they crossed some line but uncertain of what that meant to Gene, who stared back at him with a faint smile shining through his eyes.

"I want you to go to bed with me, but if you do, I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to use you. Understand? You can't leave, but you don' have to do this. Stay here," he pointed at the chair, "Or come to bed."

Sam turned away and for the second time that night left Gene in the chair as he went to lay down on the floor. Sam was terrified, as he tried to move confidently and smoothly, that Gene would not follow, that Gene only needed someone to rein him in and that someone could be anyone, and that Gene did not really want him. So he did not look at Gene, he laid down and closed his eyes and waited.

After several minutes, he heard Gene moving and he looked over to see Gene pushing out of the chair, but he was not standing up, he fell to his hands and knees and crawled over. Again, Sam was struck by the idea that this was history for Gene. Someone once told Gene to crawl and it felt right to him then and it felt right to him now and Sam tried not to look surprised about it. Sam sat up as Gene came up next to him, on all fours like a dog.

"You really want this?" Sam asked tentatively, reaching out to stroke his face. Gene leaned in and kissed him, and Sam used it to take control again. He put a hand on Gene's shoulder to keep him still and push him back slightly. "Stay. Don't move." Sam crawled over to the small bedside table and retrieved his lube. When he returned he moved on his knees behind Gene and wet down his fingers. Gene was still on all fours, looking straight down, not even trying to twist around to see what Sam was doing. Sam pushed Gene's knees apart and gently ran his lubed fingers over Gene's balls and back, following the crevice slowly until he was lightly massaging his anus. Gene was breathing heavily but there was no panic, no worry there, and Sam's unasked question was answered: yes, Gene did this, had this done to him, and a whole new realm of Gene's life was revealed to Sam there that he desperately wanted to know more about. Now was not the time, though, and he gently inserted one finger into Gene, dipping in slowly, rolling his eyes in pleasure at the feeling of the tight, tight heat inside. If nothing else, it had been a long time for Gene, who was clinching and nearly strangling the solitary finger. Sam worked slowly for minutes at a time, finally sliding in a third finger and massaging the muscles to open Gene up. It sounded like Gene was choking, and Sam cursed himself.

"Go ahead and make some noise, go ahead if you need to."

With the permission given Gene heaved a sigh that turned into a long, guttural moan that ebbed with the motions of Sam's fingers. Finally Sam thought they were close, and moved away to lay back down. He knew Gene expected him to take him as he crouched there, but Sam wanted a front row seat with a view.

Sam laid down and pulled Gene over him, forcing him to straddle his hips. Gene was confused for a moment, but Sam saw his eyes focus in understanding as Sam pushed down on his thighs. Sam bent his knees, raising up his hips until skin touched. He reached down between them and guided his cock up between Gene's butt cheeks, pushing him apart and open until the tip of Sam's cock was pressed against his sphincter. Sam was watching what he was doing, and looked up in surprise as he felt one of Gene's hands land on his shoulder, as if to stop him.

"What?"

They stared at each other. Gene was asking for something, but Sam could not figure out what. He lowered his hips away from Gene, and studied him carefully. Now Gene was testing him, and Sam wanted to get this right, but he was at a loss and horny as hell and not exactly thinking clearly.

"Fuck me." Gene's voice was hoarse and low, and he squeezed his hand hard as he spoke. Given that was exactly what Sam was going to do before Gene stopped him, Sam did not understand what was going on. Then he felt the vibration, the shaking in Gene's hand on his shoulder, and something about that registered with Sam. He had used Gene and played with him and, to a point, abused him, but that was all foreplay and now Sam was racing to get laid when Gene needed a different climax altogether. He let go of his cock and grabbed Gene's, running on instinct and the look in Gene's eyes.

"Put your hands on your thighs, I don't want you touching me." Sam squeezed his cock and Gene hissed.

Gene slapped his hands down loudly on his thighs and glared. Sam flailed at his brain, trying to figure out how to do this, and finally just grasped at straws.

"Tell me what you want." Sam squeezed harder and Gene cursed. "Tell me what you want, Gene."

Sam could hear teeth grinding.

"Tell me, or go back to your chair for the night." Sam let go of Gene's cock and held his hands out to his side, indicating that he was not going to touch him. Gene started to sink down, right on to Sam's cock, and Sam swung a hand down and slapped his penis. Gene howled and raised back up, gasping, staring in surprise at Sam. But his hands never left his thighs.

"You do it my way, Gene, or you're out," Sam said and held his breath, trying to look fierce and determined although he was mostly terrified that Gene would actually get up and walk. But when he said it something clicked with Gene, who looked at him uncertainly. He was not sure Sam meant it. Sam became furious in that doubt, because he always knew that Gene meant what he said, and he wanted to see that understanding from Gene about him.

Sam reared up and hit him in the solar plexus with everything he had and Gene fell backwards in shock. They stared at each other and Sam started spitting.

"My house, MY RULES. Isn't that what you're always saying? When I came into CID you made damn sure I knew who was in charge but here, HERE, you do what I say or you walk the fuck out! You don't fight me HERE."

Gene's eyes narrowed, the start of the fight, and Sam stood up. He walked over to Gene's clothes, piled by the chair, and picked them up. He threw the shirt at him.

"Get dressed. Get out."

Gene grabbed the shirt and stared at it. "Fight me."

"No. I told you the rules. You're breakin' 'em. You go. GET OUT." Sam threw his trousers at him. He threw the socks next and then the shoes.

Gene kept staring the clothes.

"Get. Out."

Gene looked up at him, and Sam was unnerved by the unsteady look in his eyes, but it was weakness, and he leapt on it. He walked over and grabbed Gene's hair, yanking his head around. "I never told you to look up. I never told you to look at me. I told you not to fight me. You're breaking every rule I set down, why should I let you stay?"

Gene was not going to beg. Sam did not even want him to, he just wanted to know what Gene needed here, because he was lost at sea and Gene was not giving him anything to go on. The few times Sam played with domination it was with a girlfriend in university who told him ahead of time what she wanted, and why, and it felt stupid. This was real, though, this was Gene demanding…something, something he was probably afraid of, to judge by the way he kept backing off. And with that thought, Sam finally understood.

"You can't do anything right. You can't follow my rules but you can't leave, can you? Can't make yourself do it, just get up and walk out like a man?"

Gene growled and tried to pull his head out of Sam's grasp but Sam yanked again and slapped him across the face. Gene stopped, paused, and looked down. Muscle memory, Sam nearly laughed, thinking of all the times he hit back at Gene with fists, never imagining what a simple slap could get him. It was an exhilarating high as he watched Gene's head slowly turn down, and Sam forced himself to pay attention, and not just gloat in his power like he had before, when he left Gene in the chair, because somehow, for Sam, this was much worse. This was a precipice and if they went over, if Gene took this fall, there was never any form of going back. Sam sucked in a deep breath and pushed.

"You can't control your temper or your drinking or your own dick, can you? You've got a hard on and you don' even want it, do you? You're a fuckin' miserable tosser who wants a 'nancy fairy boy' like me to fuck you up the arse. You sucked my cock and you loved it, you drank it down you goddamn pervert, because you can't help yourself. You want it, you want me, you want this." Sam pulled his head up and slapped him again, and Gene's entire body went slack. There was no fighting, no arguing, nothing but acceptance of his place at Sam's feet.

"You can't fight me because I know your secret, that you love having a cock shoved in your mouth, that you love being used like a rent boy, a whore." He leaned in and whispered. "So that's what I'm going to do, fuck you like a whore, not a cop, not a man, an arse-licking whore…"

Sam studied him for a second and let go of his hair. Gene glanced up then, and as soon as he did Sam slapped him again. Gene's head dropped.

Sam went and laid back down and lubed up his cock again as Gene sat on his ass, watching him indirectly, keeping his face pointed at the floor.

"Now get over here, crawl over here, don' make me come and get you," Sam snapped and Gene moved fast, crawling over and on top of him, keeping his face down. As he fell back to rest on his lower legs, kneeling over Sam but hovering above Sam's erection, Sam tapped his cheek in a play slap.

"I'm making this up as I go along, and your bloody minded stubbornness only made it more difficult so I'm going to ask you again, and you're going to answer: tell me what you want."

Gene breathed in deeply, still looking down at Sam's chest, but did not answer.

"Fuck, Gene, I'm gonna get pliers next," Sam said in annoyance and slapped him again. Gene hunched up, his muscles flexing, and Sam slapped him again. Gene seemed to twitch, as if reconsidering, as if thinking, and that was exactly what Sam did not want him to do. "Fuck!" Sam cursed and slapped him three times in a row, and on the final slap which was beginning to sting Sam's palm, Gene puddled again, his muscles going slack once more, and Gene finally did what he was told to do, and started telling Sam exactly, precisely, what he wanted.

Sam was bowled over by the words, the ceaseless litany of filth and perversion that rolled out of Gene's mouth as he described Sam fucking him, hurting him, destroying him, and Sam knew that these were fantasies that Gene had nursed for a very long time. He kept talking, looking down at Sam's body, curling over further and further in shame as he admitted every base, lurid desire he had, what he wanted Sam to do to him, until he seemed to simply run dry.

"…beg." Sam whispered, and Gene flinched, surprised, and then flushed and waited. Sam slapped him so hard they both nearly toppled, but then Gene closed his eyes and begged, pleaded, tore himself apart and he asked Sam to answer him but Sam remained silent, somehow knowing that to say or do anything right now would stop the downward momentum that was Gene in freefall. Gene started over, begging again, pleading more, shredding himself in desperation.

"Say something, Sam, say something, do something, please…" Gene bent over and put his head on Sam's chest. "Jesus fucking Christ, please, please, say something, fuck me, god what do I have to do, please…" His voice cracked as he began sobbing as he begged, over and over, and Sam let him, still not touching him until he felt Gene cresting on his emotions, incoherent and babbling and covering Sam's chest with tears. He reached down and rested his hands on Gene's hips and angled his own, quickly, and pressed his cock into Gene before he could catch his breath in between sobs. It was a cruel insertion and Gene cried out, pulling himself up, his eyes closed. Sam braced his feet and began pounding into him, and Gene shuddered and let out a low, keening wail.

"Look at me, Gene. Fucking look me in the eyes while I screw you." Sam ordered, and Gene opened his eyes. Sam reached down and wrapped his fingers around Gene's cock, and began stroking him. "You're goin' to come first. I want to feel you come over me, begging me to come, and you aren't goin' to look away or close your eyes I'm goin' to see your soul when you come…"

Gene mouthed silent words, unable to talk fully but begging nonetheless as his eyes focused on Sam, who felt Gene coming before he saw it. Gene shook and twitched and gasped and fell apart in Sam's hands, crying out Sam's name as a plea for mercy, his eyes as deep as oceans. Sam saw what he needed, the raw turning of Gene's emotions, Gene open in every way to him, bound to him as Gene could never be to anyone else in his life. It sent Sam over and he clawed at Gene's thighs as he came, furiously slamming up into Gene who was silent now, bracing himself, as Sam attacked him and flew out of control when his orgasm hit.

It was odd, as they collapsed, to feel Gene's heavy weight on him. Sam was under him, and theoretically the weaker party, but even so, with Gene sitting on his hips and trapping him and now pressing down on him, Sam knew was still in control. He rolled Gene over and stretched him out and laid on top of him as the man shook uncontrollably.

"You're safe, here, I tol' you that." Sam ran his hands up and down him, rubbing him, working out the heat. He pushed forward and kissed him, softly, lovingly, and Gene reacted, wrapping his arms around Sam and sighing into him in release. Sam caressed his face and neck and shoulders as they kissed. "So beautiful, Gene, you 'ave no idea how…bloody incredible you make me feel…" Sam kept talking, bringing Gene back with kind words, endearments that would shame him in the light of day, but fit now into the cracks of Gene's armor. Finally Gene pulled in a meaningful breath.

"Not…not done…in years…" Gene gasped, and Sam heard him reassembling himself in his voice, coming back to his senses and this was the moment that Sam dreaded most of all. Gene could regret this, now, and hate Sam for seeing his vulnerability. Sam feared for his life, right then. Gene ran a hand over his face and looked at Sam. "I'm yer DCI."

Sam nodded and pulled back, but Gene's arms stopped him, and Sam was confused again as Gene stared at him, waiting for something.

"What are you?"

"…your DI." Sam said, feeling stupid, laying naked next to Gene, running a hand over Gene's chest, using those titles.

"Here?" Gene looked at him critically.

"…what are you, Gene?" Sam threw the question back, for lack of any idea of what Gene was getting at.

Gene looked around the flat, giving it his normal, displeased frown. "Here, just here: I'm yours." He did not use the word as an endearment, but as a title, and his green eyes glittered as he leaned over to whisper into Sam's ear. "…Master."

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