A/N Apologies to anyone following DttR - I haven't abandoned it, I was just reminded, ever so subtly, that I never did get round to writing a sequel to 'Control' and the muse went off on a tangent. Might be best to read 'Control' first but there's very little plot in either story so I dare say it's not that essential. Merry Christmas.

Under Control

Hugging herself slightly, the chill in the air that she hadn't previously noticed deciding to finally make itself known to her, Alex made her way to the kitchen, her bare feet complaining at the contact with the cold floor - they'd been perfectly content and warm enough a moment ago, tucked up underneath her, just as she'd been perfectly content and warm tucked up under Gene's arm. A small smile graced her lips at the thought that he had seemed happy enough with the situation too.

It hadn't been awkward at all, not that she'd really expected it to be. Gene wasn't some random Thatcherite wanker - whose name she still couldn't recall, if she had even bothered to ask - that she'd invited up to her flat in a drunken blur of needy desperation; there'd been no uncomfortable exchange of words, followed by a hasty departure and there'd been none of the crushing emptiness, so starkly at odds with the intimacy involved, that had followed her dalliance with a virtual stranger. There'd only been the warmth of Gene's body against hers as they'd settled down on the sofa together, kissing and caressing some time away - it could have been minutes, it could have been much longer; she wasn't sure and she certainly didn't care - until an easy silence had gradually fallen around them. In the background the radio had continued to play on but she'd been more attuned to the beat of his heart against her ear and the way his fingers had played out their own rhythm against her ribs. She'd been so content that she hadn't said a word when he'd fumbled for his jacket one-handedly, his other hand remaining firmly on her, and proceeded to light up a cigarette.

Resting both hands on the kitchen counter she let out a long breath, a mixture of stunned happiness and complete surprise filling the cool air. She knew for certain that if anyone had asked her as recently as this morning what she'd be doing tonight her answer wouldn't have been, 'Gene', just as she knew for certain that if anyone asked her that same question right then, or tomorrow, or the day after that, her answer would be, 'Gene' - though she wasn't sure how the man himself would feel about such a presumption. He seemed to be in no hurry to leave at the moment but she wanted more than just one night. She might have finally exerted some control over her own life but she couldn't command Gene so easily, nor did she really want to; she wanted him to want to be with her - and, for tonight at least, she was sure he did.

Smiling to herself again - she couldn't seem to stop doing that tonight - she opened a cupboard above the sink and located a couple of glasses, placing them on the counter in front of her. She'd moved to the kitchen to escape the last of his cigarette smoke - there was only so much she could stand - but she'd told Gene that they both deserved a drink after their exertions; when she'd risen from the sofa and his hand had held onto her for as long as possible, she'd silently added on, 'And maybe a little more fuel for another round'. And the smile he'd given her as he'd watched her walk away had made her think that he was on the same wavelength as her. She began to pour out the wine she'd brought upstairs with her earlier in the evening, her thoughts about what the rest of the night might bring swirling around her head in unison with the red liquid around the glass.

"You look gorgeous in my shirt, Bolly."

Smiling widely at the sound of his voice, and the sentiment it contained, she finished pouring out the second glass before replying. He'd let her slip the shirt off his shoulders when they'd still been a mess of limbs on the sofa, a smile making its way to his mouth when, after buttoning up his trousers, he'd looked up to find her wearing it. She was planning on keeping it, too. It smelt of him; of smoke and whiskey, of his aftershave and the very essence of him. If she had her way, she'd be keeping the owner too.

Straightening out her smile a little she slowly turned around to face Gene, finding him casually resting against the wall between the kitchen and the living room. There was a pout on his lips, the one that always stirred up her insides regardless of what kind of mood she was in, and a hungry gleam in his eyes that made her want to abandon the wine and drag him into her bedroom. Tearing her gaze away from his face, she let her eyes wander further down, over his naked chest and loosely belted trousers, her travels ending on his bare feet. A smile twitched at her lips at that sight; he'd removed his boots whilst she'd been in the kitchen, furthering her belief that he had no intention of leaving anytime soon. Working her way back up him she watched as he took a long drag on his cigarette, his pout disappearing as he blew the smoke away to one side, his gaze raking over her all the while. A heavy black, the shirt contrasted her pale skin perfectly and with her decision to fasten only some of the buttons it offered tantalising views of her flesh too. Views that he was currently admiring. Suddenly, she didn't feel so cold anymore.

"You didn't look too bad in it yourself," she replied, causing a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. Turning a little and reaching behind her she took hold of both glasses and held out one hand towards him, luring him closer towards her, to where she wanted him. Gene slowly closed the gap between them, his smile still lingering on his lips as he carefully took hold of the glass she was offering him, making sure that his fingers slid against hers with the lightest of touches as he did so - an action that sent little waves of pleasure racing along her fingers and up her arm. The sensation lingered delightfully as he leaned towards her, reaching around with one arm to stub out his cigarette in the sink behind her. He didn't need to be so close to her to accomplish the task but she certainly wasn't complaining, especially when he stepped back just a little and his now cigarette-free hand brushed against the bare thigh of her leg.

"I'd rather see you without it on though," Gene said lowly, his fingers trailing under her - his - shirt to rest on her hip, his thumb stretching across towards her stomach and the garment snagging on his wrist in such a way that it exposed more of her flesh to him but his eyes never left hers.

"That could be arranged," she suggested shamelessly as his thumb began to circle its way across her skin, the familiar offer drawing a grin of recognition from him.

"Believe me," Gene stated firmly, his hand moving slightly to tug once at the only piece of clothing that she was wearing. "The shirt's coming off."

The absolute certainty in his voice sent a warm ache radiating through her body. Thoughts of him ripping the shirt from her and taking her right there on the kitchen counter invaded her mind, leaving her almost breathless and most definitely blushing in front of him. A little shakily she sipped from her glass, the wine only adding to the warm glow inside of her. He mirrored her actions, knocking back most of the contents of his glass without ever letting his gaze leave hers and with his other hand still firmly on her hip. With his glass depleted, Gene leant towards her and she raised her head slightly to meet his mouth, her glass laden hand dropping to offer him a clear path, but he only reached around her to deposit his own glass onto the counter. He was so close that she could feel his body heat but she wanted to feel more than that. On the return journey she got what she wanted when he moved to kiss her, taking her by surprise with both the action and how softly his lips brushed against her own. It was enough for her to taste the remnants of the wine and cigarette he'd just consumed but when she tried to deepen the kiss, to take more, he pulled away from her.

"Not so fast, Bols," he said gently.

"Oh?" she managed to utter, barely registering what he'd said as her thoughts - and her eyes - were on his lips, on the place where her own should still have been and silently lamenting the fact that they weren't.

He slipped the glass from her hand and placed it down onto the counter, a slight chinking sound cutting through the silence as he let her glass slide against his own. Slowly, with one hand still resting on her hip, he ran the other down the side of her face, fingers lightly trailing down her neck then sweeping across the line of her collar bone and then further down. "You see, there's one very important rule, Alex," Gene whispered softly as his fingers finally reached the 'V' of the shirt and the skin between her breasts.

Stirring slightly from the heady thoughts that his hand's journey had elicited, she realised that he was the one now alluding to the night's earlier events. "What's that?" she asked, playing along and garnering a brief smile from Gene in response.

"No touching," he replied, one finger moving to pull at the shirt for a moment - just long enough for his eyes to glimpse down at what lay beneath - before letting it drop against her body once more. "Me or yourself. Think you can keep your hands off me?"

"I think I can manage that," she replied quickly, the thought of being under his control, of being unable to touch him whilst he did whatever he liked to her, making her stomach flip and a slow throb start to pulse at the centre of her.

Gene didn't refute her statement verbally but she thought that the smile that made its way to his mouth said as much; said that he knew exactly what kind of effect he was having upon her already and that she'd fail as miserably - as wonderfully - as he had and that he was going to make certain she did.

He was still smiling as he raised both hands and began to unbutton the shirt, the only chink in the air of confidence he was exhibiting being the slight trembling of his long fingers as they moved in front of her - the sight of which had her transfixed. She could watch his hands - and him - for hours at a time, but having them - having him - so close to her, almost on her, was a very different experience altogether. As his fingers continued down her torso, she wondered if she should have thought through her agreement; he'd been careful not to touch her so far and when the last button fell open, and the shirt parted without any assistance, revealing a thin strip of flesh down the middle of her body, Gene's hands only hovered frustratingly above her skin and the material covering it. Her gaze quickly shifted to his to find him watching her in return, the light that was dancing in his eyes assuring her that he wasn't going to make this easy for her.

With his gaze still on hers, his hands moved upwards, towards the collar of the shirt, and her breath caught in her throat in anticipation of the contact that was now surely to come but his fingers artfully avoided her skin once again. With great care not to touch her at all he gently peeled the shirt from her shoulders, exposing more of her skin to the cool air though she barely felt it - she was far too focussed on the gorgeous man in front of her to notice anything else. Gene's eyes drifted downwards as he continued to slide the shirt from her arms, touching only the material itself all the while, and uncovering her breasts as slowly as possible and finding nipples were already hard. She moved her arms to quicken the garment's descent to the floor, arching her back as she did so and pushing her chest towards him, careful not to break his rule and make contact but needing him to touch her.

With the shirt pooled at her feet, Gene leant back slightly to fully appreciate the view, his gaze wandering lazily over her entire body - even though he'd already had more than an eyeful when she'd stripped for him - before reaching her eyes once again. "You're more beautiful than I ever imagined you'd be, Alex."

It wasn't what she'd expected to hear in that moment. The teasing and playfulness that had come before was noticeably absent and the glint in his eyes that had accompanied his earlier praise was nowhere to be seen. This wasn't part of their little game, nor was it some leering innuendo, the likes of which had peppered the bigger game that they'd played since the day she'd arrived in this world; this was real - and she took a few moments to savour both the depth of his admiration and the glimpse of a very different Gene Hunt. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to kiss him and given the softness of his gaze she doubted that he'd hold such an indiscretion against her. "Have you been picturing me naked all along?" she asked instead, the slight outrage of her tone completely undermined by the smile tugging at her lips as she spoke.

"Since the day we met," he smiled at her, the tenderness in his gaze slowly fading as he spoke. "Mind you, with that dress hitched up so high, there weren't many gaps left for me to fill in. And I won't have to rely on my imagination ever again."

She barely had time to decide if his last sentence was confirmation that he really was in this for the long-term or not before he picked her up, sweeping her off her feet as if she was as light as a feather and in much the same manner that he'd whisked her into CID the day they'd met, the day when she'd been wearing the aforementioned tantalising red dress. Risking a steadying hand on his chest she gazed up at him in question, as much at the change in altitude he'd imposed on her as his future intentions, but the only answer she received was a devilish grin before he turned his gaze away from her and set off towards the bedroom.

Thankfully, because she was perfectly happy now that he was actually touching her, the door to her room was already ajar and a quick nudge from Gene's foot was all it took to make it swing open. But as soon as they were inside he threw her onto the bed with both unexpected tenderness and thorough precision. She found herself in the centre of the mattress and exposed to his gaze once more - especially when he switched on the light and moved to stand at the foot of her bed. Lying there completely naked, the cool sheets beneath her body no challenge to the warmth still radiating through her, she could only prop herself up on her elbows and gaze up at him in return. And in desire, though she was trying not to show that side too much.

Gene remained at the bottom of her bed, quietly looking at her, drinking in the sight of her all over again, his thirst unquenched. "Don't suppose you want to change your mind?"

Alex met his gaze firmly and shook her head, the suggestion that he was having a little trouble focussing himself enough to spur her on. She knew she'd cave at some point - they were both counting on that much - but that didn't mean she had to make it easy for him either. Lying back down on the bed she drew her arms upwards, resting her hands above her head, completely aware of the uplifting effect it had on her breasts. Neither movement went unnoticed by Gene, his eyes tracing down her arms towards her chest, though he still remained too far away for her liking. Slowly, enough for his gaze to flitter further down in time to witness everything, she parted her legs, revealing all of herself to him. His rules - her rules - allowed her little more than that but as his gaze remained firmly on the newly exposed areas of her body she hoped it would be enough.

"Tart," he said softly, almost endearingly, as his gaze drifted back up her body, a smile playing on his lips.

"Only for you, Gene. You do this to me." It wasn't a calculated reply on her part, if anything it was far too honest an answer - she'd never been this wanton with anybody else, even her Thatcherite wanker hadn't seen her like this - but it did have the delightful side-effect of stirring Gene into life and drawing him onto the bed with her. Using his hands, which remained at either side of her, and his knees, which moved carefully between her legs, Gene stretched his body above hers, making sure that the only contact was the feel of his trousered legs against her bare thighs - and it was almost too much for her. He was so close that she could wrap her arms - and her legs - around him and pull him down on top of her with very little effort but she kept her limbs in place even as he continued to prolong the enjoyable status quo between them.

As he continued to hover above her, and with few options - aside from giving in, which she was determined not to do before he even touched her - available to her, she took the opportunity to further her study of him, letting her gaze slowly wander away from the predatory gleam in those beautiful eyes of his, over the lips that she wanted to kiss endlessly, and down to the shoulders that she'd clung on to when she had been the one in control. They were bare this time and she regretted not running her hands over them, and carrying on down to the muscles in his arms that were now making themselves known to her, when she'd had the opportunity to do so in the kitchen. As her gaze wandered back up to his, she regretted agreeing to not touch him at all.

After what felt like an eternity - though it was probably a little shorter than that - Gene finally moved above her. His lips edged down towards her own, just close enough for her to think that he was going to kiss her again, and causing her lips to part slightly in expectation, but instead he leant further up, above her head, to brush his mouth across the exposed underside of one of her wrists; his contact on the sensitive skin that lay there employed just enough pressure to make it almost unbearably pleasurable. A murmur that confirmed as much escaped from her mouth and she was sure that she felt him smile against her arm in response before he carefully navigated his way along the inside of her arm, leaving a delicious trail of sensation in his wake and turning her head to witness his descent only heightened the experience. By the time he reached her shoulder, his head and lips wonderfully close to her own, all thoughts of reaching out for him had been discarded; he was finally touching her - and so perfectly that she didn't want it to end.

She pressed her head - and her hands, in case they should not get the message and wander off on their own accord - back into the bed as his mouth followed the length of her collarbone, his tongue snaking out when he reached the hollow at the bottom of her throat to trace over it before continuing on to her other shoulder. He assaulted her, until then, neglected arm in the same manner as its partner, the lightest of touches of his lips, his tongue, and his teeth against the sensitive skin intensely arousing and she found herself stretching to watch him all over again. When he'd kissed the palm of her hand, and then the tips of her fingers, his gaze finally sought out her own, a smile shining in his eyes as he moved across to kiss her lips, softly and fleetingly though she tried desperately to hold onto him with her mouth, her head raising off the bed slightly in an attempt to draw out the contact. There was little time for her to lament the briefness of their kiss as Gene started to trail his lips over her chin and down her throat, following the line down the centre of her chest that lead directly to her breasts.

"Gene..." His name tumbled from her lips with a contented sigh as his mouth found her right breast, slowly spiralling kisses around her nipple as she strained to watch. Her arousal lay in remaining immobile, from ceding control to him, but at the same time she still wanted to run her fingers through his hair, to press his head against herself and hold him there, to exert some control of her own - and she knew from previous experience that doing so would be just as exhilarating. About the only thing she could do was speak but as his lips, and his tongue, finally made it to the centre of the wonderful path he'd just explored, words suddenly weren't her strong point. A flurry of moans and sighs, which she hoped would be enough to prolong his stay, were all she could manage; that and his name, which she repeated in frustration when his mouth relinquished its hold on her nipple. He shot her a quick glance before recommencing his assault, his mouth moving across her chest to lavish attention on her other breast. Anticipating a repeat of his previous actions, a low moan escaped her mouth when he focussed on the underside of her breast instead, his mouth gradually working its way up to the nipple and shards of pleasure rippling through her once more when it did.

Disappointingly, the attention he was lavishing on her didn't last as long as she'd have liked, his ministrations on her left breast trailing off as quickly as they had on its partner. It was only the path his mouth proceeded to take, right down the centre of her body, that kept her protests in check. Straining her neck further, she watched his descent with hooded eyes, the sight and feel of his blond hair flopping forward to ghost over the skin he had just kissed adding more fuel to the growing fire inside her. The bed dipped in varying places as he moved down her body, his kisses taking him closer and closer towards the very centre of her. She was left disappointed again when, upon reaching the line of hair that would have guided him to where she wanted him most, his mouth moved to the side instead, to the thigh that had parted so willingly under his gaze. He kissed his way along the inside of her leg, achingly close to where he should be, and down to the back of her knee, her eyes attempting to draw him back up all the while but to no avail.

Gene removed his lips from her body to finally glance upwards, his palms still resting on the bed at either side of her but his feet firmly on the floor. As his eyes roamed up her body, her own dropped to his, to the bulge in his trousers that was assuring her she wasn't the only one ready for a closer kind of contact. She raised her gaze to meet his, the smile on his face revealing that her appraisal of him had not gone unnoticed. He kept on smiling at her as he loosened off his belt and stripped off his clothing; at least, she presumed he was still smiling because her gaze was somewhere much lower than his face. She'd felt him throbbing against her thigh, had marvelled at the way he'd filled her so perfectly, but she'd never had the chance to see him until now, not even when they'd partially redressed. And he was magnificent. The throbbing at the centre of her body quickened its beat, the urge to touch him, to have him, itched its way through her hands and at that moment she feared that she might just be as nutty as he always claimed she was to have agreed to any kind of restraint on her part in the first place.

With his eyes fixed on hers, he prowled back up the length of her, completely naked and taking the greatest of care to ensure that there was only one - very hard - part of him touching her. The urge to buck her hips into him, to extend the contact they were sharing, was pulsing wildly inside her and she was fairly certain that he was finding it just as difficult to remain in control; it was a temptation that she was on the verge of giving in to until Gene offered her a reprieve, unexpectedly moving to one side to lay down on the bed next to her. She turned her head to make the one contact she was permitted and found his eyes were much darker now, his need for this to come to an end as strong as her own. It crossed her desire ridden mind to question why they were both struggling against the inevitable but as Gene, having propped himself up on arm, moved his free hand to her cheek, lightly stroking the tip of his index finger across her skin, all reasonable thought dissolved at the hint of more exquisite torture - which was, of course, the very reason she'd held back all this time.

He brushed his thumb across her lower lip and her mouth opened again in response, inviting him to slip the digit inside but he declined the offer. Instead he moved his hand further down, trailing over her chin and down her neck, following the path his mouth had just recently forged. He paid as much attention to her breasts with his thumb and fingers as he had done with his mouth and lips, his ministrations persuading her to keep her hands to herself for a little longer. When his hand started to smooth its way down her stomach she feared that there would only be another teasing detour to come. A small gasp left her lips as the tips of his fingers ventured into previously uncharted territory, her legs automatically parting that bit further for him. He started to caress her ever so lightly, tracing one finger down and then back up her, his eyes watching her own all the while. She was sure that she wouldn't be able to drag her gaze away from his even if she wanted to; having his lustful eyes on hers as he caressed her so intimately was far too captivating. Until he removed his hand, anyway and then she had to look down just to confirm that he'd stopped because it almost felt like he hadn't.

It was his grin, when she drew her eyes back to him, that finally pushed her over the edge; she wasn't sure if he had more in store for her or not but enough was enough. Turning her body on to one side and towards Gene, mirroring his position, she placed a hand on his chest. She ignored the knowing - and possibly triumphant - smile that was breaking out on his lips to run her hand down his body, twisting her wrist as she made her way over his belly so that her fingers could lead the way. Her hand slowly wandered further down to gently take hold of him, to feel the weight of him, the length of him, all of him.

"Hard, isn't it?" Gene asked, his eyes gazing into hers, though she was unsure if he was referring to her capitulation or to the particular part of his anatomy that was currently in her grasp.

"It certainly is," she agreed, answering both possible questions before she started to caress him in earnest. He made the most wonderful sound as she stroked him, the feel of soft skin wrapped around hard steel as intoxicating to her as his groans and she throbbed in time with him.

His voice was low, and he struggled to control it and himself, as he spoke, "Knew you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me."

Releasing her hold she didn't acknowledge him verbally; instead she sat up, pushing him down against the bed - encountering very little resistance from Gene in the process - and moved to settle herself on top of him. He smiled up at her as she took him in hand once more, raising herself slightly above him, his hands moving to her hips to help guide her as she slowly, and with her eyes locked on his, lowered herself on to him, inch by delicious inch. She breathed out slowly when she had all of him, the position allowing her to take him in deeper than before. It also, rather fortuitously, allowed her to be in control and she smoothed her hands up his body, starting from the very point where they were joined and up over his stomach, her fingers gradually straying across his chest to brush against his nipples, in recognition of that fact. Having him like this, beneath her, inside of her but at her mercy, was too hard a temptation to resist and she flexed her internal muscles around him.

Gene squirmed beneath her at the action, his hands urging at her hips. "Alex..." he growled warningly.

Though it was tempting to tease him further, she wanted the sublime release that was perched promisingly on the horizon as much as he did. Still meeting his gaze she began to slowly move her hips against his, his moans and curses as addictive to her as the growing tension at her centre, and the way his fingers dug into her flesh as exquisite as the length of him so thoroughly inside of her. She varied the angles, and the rhythm, his hips adjusting to follow her lead, finding the perfect position just as the tightening of his fingers against her flesh warned of his struggle to hold out. For all of her command, she was struggling too and when his hand moved across to stroke her, harder - more assuredly - than before, she came almost instantly, and intensely, the force of her climax pulling Gene with her - and dragging her name from his lips again.

She wasn't sure if she collapsed onto him or if he dragged her down but as the warm afterglow spread throughout her body she found herself lying on top of Gene, a hand on one of his shoulders and her head resting against the other. His arms were wrapped possessively around her, one hand at the small of her back as if he was trying to keep their connection in place though there was no need - she wasn't going anywhere. She rubbed her nose against his neck before placing a small kiss there and relaxing further into him, her breathing falling easily into step with his; she could stay like this, with him, forever and she sleepily vowed to herself to make sure that she spent as much time as possible doing just that because whether she was dead or not in the real world, she felt alive with Gene. She wasn't sure if it was that poignant thought or just the cool air in the room but, despite her warm glow, a small shiver ran down her spine - and it didn't go unnoticed by Gene.

"Cold, Bols?"

"Mmm," she replied against his neck, deciding it was best to attribute the reason behind the chill to the temperature of the room. Gene slipped out of her grasp - and out of her - leaving her further exposed to the cool air, and moved off the bed. She watched her naked DCI pull back the sheets with a growing smile, his intentions clear, and shifted her hips and legs to accommodate him in his task before slipping beneath the covers. After turning off the light, Gene rejoined her in bed, letting her wrap her body - and just maybe her life here, too - around him once more. His hands moved softly up and down her back, slowly warming her through and she fell blissfully asleep in his arms with the unwavering certainty, despite the ramifications involved in such a conviction, that she was exactly where she was supposed to be.