Work Text:
“Are you goin' to eat that, or just push it round the plate all evenin'?”
Sam threw his fork down and folded his arms. “Is there ever going to be a Saturday night when we don't eat this rubbish?”
“Nothin' wrong with a takeaway, my petulant little deputy dawg.” Gene waved his cutlery in the air to emphasise his speech. “Great British institution.”
“Well, apart from the contradiction to your last statement seeing that this is a curry, it doesn't mean we can't try something different once in a while.”
“Like what? Fish 'n' chips?”
“Next Saturday, I'm going to cook for you.”
Gene snorted as he laid down his knife and fork. “Yer goin't to cook for me?! Who d'you think yer are, Fanny Craddock?”
Sam rolled his eyes. “I can show you a thing or two in the kitchen. I'll have you know I'm a very good cook.”
“As long as it's not that poncey stuff, Sammy boy, yer on. But remember I expect to be waited on hand and foot.” Gene leant back in his chair and lit up a cigarette. “I'm sure you'd look good in a waiter's uniform.” His eyes danced mischievously as he looked at Sam.
“Waited on, eh? I'll see what I can do, Gene.”
************************
“What now, Gladys? Managed to find another document we're not fillin' out properly? You must 'ave 'alf a lob on every time you pass a filing cabinet.”
“Only if I'm being thrown up against one, actually Guv. And that is your invitation for tomorrow night's soiree.”
“Soiree? Fuck me, Tyler. Aren't we hoity-toity?! Do you lift your little pinky finger when you're 'avin a piss?”
“Just read the card and make sure you're on time, Sir.” Sam turned on his heel and departed, swaying his hips ever so slightly, safe in the knowledge his exit was being watched. Gene tore his eyes away from the two peaches fighting in a sack as the door swung shut behind them, turning his attention to the invitation in front of him. Tearing open the envelope, his eyes scanned over the card inside.
Mr Samuel Tyler has the pleasure of inviting you to an exclusive dinner party on Saturday evening, commencing at 7.30pm.
Please dress accordingly - that means shirt and tie in case you were wondering. I'd ask you to RSVP but I know you'll be there - so just be on time!
Oh, and Gene – don't bring a bottle unless it's wine. There's no way you're drinking Party Seven with my cooking.
************************
“Blue Nun. You're spoiling me.”
“Something smells good, apart from me.”
“I'm surprised you can smell anything over that aftershave.”
“Oi, you cheeky beggar. If it's good enough for Henry Cooper, it's good enough for me. And what the 'ell are you wearin'?”
“This would be a waiter's outfit, Gene. As you requested. Does it suit me?”
“Bloody right it does. I should 'ave thought of this before.”
“Sit down, then. I'll get the ice bucket for the wine, and then I'll serve the first course.”
“Ice bucket? 'Ow the other 'alf live, I'll -” The next witty comeback fell out of Gene's brain as Sam stood up and moved out from behind the table. He was wearing a waiter's outfit on the top half of his body, but - “Wha- what the 'ell?!”
“Well you did say you wanted to be waited on, Gene. I thought I'd combine the best of both worlds for you.” Sam pointed to his torso, “Top half – waiter.” Then he gestured downwards, “Bottom half – French maid. Although the skirt wouldn't suit me, so I went without. Your mouth's hanging open, Gene. Might want to do something about that.”
Gene was fairly sure if he was in a cartoon right now, his eyes would be bulging out on stalks. Sam was wearing fishnet stockings, held up with a black suspender belt, and black satin knickers; topped off with a white shirt, white bow tie, and black jacket. For some unknown reason, Gene found his eyes kept loitering on the lower half of Sam's body. Sweet Georgie Best, those legs! He could detect a small amount of pale white thigh over the top of the stocking, leading to the knickers...he swallowed hard as his eyes roved over the black satin, the material leaving little to the imagination in the packet department.
“Glass of wine, Gene?” Sam opened the bottle and poured two glasses, then placed the bottle in the ice bucket. Moving around the table to place one of the glasses in front of Gene, he brushed his stockinged leg up against Gene's trousers. “Ooh sorry about that, my mistake.” Smirking as he turned away, Sam missed seeing Gene absent-mindedly rubbing his hand over his own leg in a slow circular motion.
“This must be the longest time you've been silent in your life.” Sam bustled around the kitchen preparing the starter as if this was all perfectly normal.
“I'm just takin' in the sights. This your normal cookin' gear?” Gene shifted in his chair, trying to adjust his trousers to make up for the sudden lack of space.
“I'll have you know I purchased this underwear especially. Told the woman in the shop I was buying for my girlfriend, and she was about my size.”
“Your size?! I've seen butcher's pencils with more meat on 'em. But got to give you credit, that was smart thinking – for a soft Southern sissy, of course.” Christ, look at them slim 'ips, that tiny flash of flat stomach...those tight little satin knickers...
“Um, Gene? You alright there?” Sam found it hard to keep the smug tone out of his voice, “Only your starter's been in front of you for twenty seconds and you haven't so much as looked at it yet.”
Gene glanced down, and then sideways at Sam. “What am I supposed to be lookin' at?”
“That's asparagus, with melted butter.”
“Looks like green string that you've blown yer nose on – what are you doin'?!” Gene's voice seemed to raise an octave as he watched; Sam was holding a piece of asparagus between his fingers; dangling it over his mouth, he tipped back his head. Placing the tip between his open lips, Sam sucked greedily, letting the melted butter dribble down his chin as he nibbled at the vegetable. Licking his lips with a smacking sound as he finished the piece, he looked back at Gene, chin still glistening with butter. “Something wrong? You haven't touched yours yet.”
“I – um -” Bloody 'ell, stop staring man and say something. “I'm not eating this with me fingers, I'll get all messy.”
“I wouldn't want you getting butter on your tie, Guv. Take it off.”
As Gene undid the knot, he felt something touch his leg underneath the table. Sam raised a quizzical eyebrow as Gene's expression went from curious to shocked, realising it was a stockinged foot working its way up from his ankle towards his lap. Gene took off his tie and undid the first button of his shirt, his hands fumbling. Taking a huge gulp from his wine glass, Gene jumped in his chair as the foot pushed against his thigh briefly and then withdrew.
“Shall I clear that plate away and try to tempt you with the main course instead?” Sam stood up, his crotch level across the table with Gene's eyeline.
Gene undid a second button on his shirt and took another swig of wine. Trying to keep his voice steady, he replied, “Depends what we're havin'. Hope it's a nice bit of meat.”
“Nothing so simple, Guv. You did want to be waited on properly, so I made soufflé.”
“Soufflé?! Isn't that all air and no substance? How's a proper man supposed to live on that?” Gene was greeted by the sight of Sam bending over to open the oven door, retrieving the dish. That pert arse in black satin, suspender straps running down to those fishnets...Gene was woken from his reverie by a perfectly risen cheese soufflé being placed before him.
“You say it's all air, but there's a lot more going on inside, you know.” Taking a spoon, Sam broke through the fluffy outer, “It's all hot, and gooey, and yielding...” he poked out his tongue, wrapping it around the soufflé-covered spoon, sucking on it and making small noises of enjoyment. “Besides, I can't feed you too much - I'm saving you for dessert.”
Gene's spoon dropped from his hand, and his voice was deep and tinged with need as he spoke. “I've developed a sudden urge for sweet things, Sammy boy. So let's skip the main course.” He tipped the last of his glass of wine down his throat as Sam rose. But instead of making his way to the kitchen, he stood behind Gene and reached over to grab his tie. Placing it over Gene's eyes, he tied it in a tight knot at the back.
“What's this for, you kinky beggar?”
Sam pulled back Gene's chair and straddled his lap. “Well, you wanted dessert.” He grasped Gene's hands and placed them on his legs, moving them up and down, letting him feel the material. Gene responded by curling his fingers around the stockings, rubbing them and pulling Sam more closely into his lap. His erection was evident, and he ground it against Sam, who promptly stood up and moved backwards, out of his immediate grasp. Helping Gene to his feet, he guided him across the room until he was standing in front of the bed.
“I'm going to undress you now, and I want you to keep that blindfold on. No cheating!” Gene felt Sam's fingers start on his shirt, pulling at the buttons. Within no time at all he found himself completely stripped bare; Sam was running his fingers up and down his chest, playing with his nipples, making Gene thrust towards him. “I can't bloody see where you are to get hold of you!”
“That's the whole point, Gene.” Sam pushed him backwards and Gene fell across the bed. “Now how about some dessert?” Gene heard movements in the kitchen; then Sam was back, sat by his side. Bending over, he brushed his lips over Gene's mouth. Gene parted his lips in response, and Sam covered them with his own; using his tongue, he pushed a piece of strawberry from his own mouth into Gene's. Tracing a line of kisses up from his collarbone to his earlobe, Sam whispered into his ear, “Want some more?”
Bucking and squirming on the bed, Gene managed to say, “I usually have cream with mine.”
“I'll see what I can do, Guv.” Sam straddled Gene's chest, facing away from him; leaning over, he took hold of Gene's cock and ran his tongue over the slit, lapping up the pre-come leaking from the end. Gene gasped and thrust upward in response; feeling with his hands, he grabbed hold of Sam's satin-clad arse and ran his hands over the material. Closing his mouth over the head of Gene's shaft, Sam began to suck, slowly; teasing with his tongue, swirling it along the length. He could feel Gene's hands running across his arse, feeling the suspenders; he groaned and felt Gene writhing as he sent vibrations along his length.
“You're driving me mad 'ere, Sammy. I'm goin' to shoot so hard down the back of yer throat it'll make yer eyes bulge if yer not careful.”
Sam released his hold and reached over for something from the bedside table. “I can't have that now can I, Gene?” Gene felt Sam's mouth close over his cock once more, but wasn't prepared for the icy cold feeling that accompanied the action. Gasping and trying to pull back, he was prevented by Sam sitting firmly on his chest, pinning him in place. Continuing to suck, Sam swirled an ice cube around his mouth, so Gene could feel both cold and warm seeping into his skin. It was perversely painful and driving him to the point of no return. He reached up and tugged the tie off his eyes, throwing it to one side; trying to sit up, he slapped Sam across the arse and shouted at him to stop.
“I want you to stand up and take yer clothes off. Everything except the knickers. You can leave them on.” Gene sat up and pushed himself to the edge of the bed, watching as Sam obeyed his instructions. After removing the top half of his clothing, Sam lifted his left leg and placed it in the space between Gene's thighs on the bed. Snapping open his suspender straps, he looked at Gene as he rolled the stocking down his leg, draping it over his partner's shoulder as he removed it. Repeating the action with his right leg, he finally stood in front of Gene, wearing only the black satin knickers, which were stretched tight across his obvious erection. Two large hands grasped hold of his hips and pulled him forward, and Gene pushed his face into the bulge, mouthing hot breath through the fabric. He moved his lips over the outline, making Sam throw back his head and moan with desire.
Looking up at Sam as he heard him groan, Gene saw the wanton look cross his features. Unable to wait any longer, he grabbed hold of the black satin knickers at one side and using both hands tore the material apart, ripping along the seam. Shuffling what was left of the knickers down Sam's legs, he tugged the now-naked man into his lap, kissing him with ferocity. Hands tangled into hair, tugging and twisting; tongues swooped and curled around each other. Gene leant backwards and Sam felt himself falling, covering Gene's whole body with his own. He rubbed himself against Gene, lifting his head to look at him with dark, feral eyes.
Flipping Sam over, Gene briefly pressed himself into him, then sat back on his haunches. “Get on all fours, Sammy boy. I'm going to fuck you from behind.” As Sam scrambled up to his knees, Gene retrieved the fallen stockings, tying one to each of Sam's wrists. He stood and pulled Sam towards the headboard, looping both stockings around the right hand strut, and then tying them in a knot. Pulling them tight, he took a bottle of lube from the bedside table and positioned himself behind Sam. As he covered his fingers in lube and started to work one inside Sam's tight opening, he let his eyes take in the scene in front of him.
“You 'ave no idea what a gorgeous sight it is, to see you tied to that 'eadboard, with your arse sticking in the air at me. Just as fucking gorgeous as seein' you in those stockings, and those knickers. I 'ad to rip 'em off you this time, Sammy. But next time I'm going to make you keep 'em on. Then I'm goin' to push 'em to one side and fuck you, so I can feel 'em rubbing against me cock as I pound in and out of you.”
Sam groaned and pushed back against Gene's finger, and he worked in a second one as he continued to talk. “I'm goin' to fuck you so hard you'll feel me balls slappin' against you, you dirty boy. Blindfoldin' the Gene Genie?! You 'ave to be punished for that kind of behaviour. “ He smacked Sam across the arse with his free hand, relishing in the whinnying noise it produced. Removing his fingers, Gene knelt behind Sam and lubed his own cock before starting to push his way inside.
“Fuck me, Sam, you feel good.” Gene stilled for a moment and waited; when Sam began to push back onto his cock, he moved forward in response, beginning a familiar rhythm. “Is that good, Sammy? Tell me how it feels.”
Sam was pulling at his restraints, enjoying the material rubbing against his wrists. He thrust his arse against Gene, “You feel so fucking good, Gene, I love it when you tie me up and fuck me.” He felt the speed and pressure increase as Gene reacted to his words, pumping harder into him. “Oh yeah, keep going, harder!”
Gene reached around and started to fist Sam's erection, matching his own movements. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock, you dirty, filthy fucking slut, you love this don't you? I'm goin' to make you come so hard, Sammy, and then I'm going to fill you so full of my spunk, you'll feel it runnin' down yer legs.”
“Oh god Gene, I'm going to come, keep talking, I love it!”
“You fuckin' filthy boy, dirty fuckin' bastard, lovin' my 'and wrapped round yer cock, wankin' you off, I want you to shoot yer load all over me, and then make me come by pushing yer gorgeous tight arse back at me, come for me Sam!”
As he said the last words, Sam yelled out, “Gene! Oh god, Gene!” and he came, hot semen spurting all over Gene's hand, spilling onto the bedclothes. He pushed back against Gene, tightening his muscles around him, begging him to come; Gene held on for a few more thrusts before hissing out Sam's name, his cock pulsing as he felt his climax envelop him. He slumped forward over Sam's back, both men fighting for breath. Wrapping his arms around Sam's middle, Gene planted a kiss in the small of his back.
“You can cook for me again, Sammy boy. Although I could do with something to eat now, I'm bloody starvin'.”
“There's a rice pudding in the oven. If you untie me, I might even let you have the skin.”
“Yer a man after me own heart, Sam.” Slapping him on the arse, Gene withdrew and wandered over to the kitchen, straight to the oven. Sam looked back over his shoulder. “Oi! Gene! A little help here!”
“Priorities, Sammy, priorities...”