Fic: Living Dangerously (Primeval, Abby/Connor, NC-17)
Title: Living Dangerously
Author: alyse
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing: Abby/Connor
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Series 3 to date
Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fanfiction, written solely for love of the show.
Word Count: ~2,000.
Status: Complete.
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Written for mmom.
Summary: Abby's got used to living dangerously.
-o-
It took almost three years from first finding the anomalies to Connor figuring out how to lock them down, shrinking them into a hard shell so that nothing could come through. It took another eighteen months after that before he and Sarah finally perfected what Cutter was working on when he died - a way to predict the anomalies before they opened. Once they manage that, the team moves from reactive to proactive, hunting anomalies down before they even have a chance to bloom and then, when they've found them, they just wait around for them to open so that they can shut them down again with a flick of a switch.
Connor and Sarah's modelling isn't foolproof - it's based on historical records, and Sarah's the first to admit that they're not perfect - so there's still that element of danger, the occasional anomaly that they can't predict, the creature they hadn't counted on. Then it's back to what they used to do, running around like blue-arsed flies, trying to save the world. But most of the time, everything is under control. It feels like they might finally win: that people will stop dying, that the world will stop ending.
Abby should be relieved, and she is, especially after the losses that their team has suffered. It's just that...
Abby's got used to living dangerously and now that her life has become humdrum, she misses the hell out of it. That's probably she's on her knees behind the SUV at the latest potential anomaly site, sucking Connor off.
Becker and the two men he brought with them are off exploring the terrain, getting a feel for it, just in case. She and Connor - even these days - have strict instructions to 'stay with the car' and 'don't do anything stupid'. That little speech has become rote for Becker, as routine as all of their days are. It's something said without thought because Becker doesn't think anything's going to happen.
Abby's tired of waiting for things to happen and she's tired of not being stupid. Besides, Becker said 'stay with the car' not 'stay in the car', not that it would matter one way or the other. He knows them too well. That's why he hasn't ventured far.
She can hear him even now. He's maybe fifty feet away, his boots crunching on the gravel as he paces. He's looking at the building, she thinks, the one that's half warehouse/half factory and all empty, and she leans in, sucks down on Connor's cock until she thinks she'll choke.
Connor makes a sound, soft and muffled, and when she looks up at him, frowning, he has his fist up to his mouth. She can't tell if he's biting it or whether it's just to muffle the noises he's making, but she slides her mouth off his dick anyway and it falls from her lips with a soft, wet 'pop'.
It's wet to the touch, slick with her spit and his pre-come, and she strokes it, up and down, while she tilts her head, straining for any sounds coming from Becker's direction, anything that might tell her that he was about to walk around the bonnet of the car and see them there. But there's nothing to be heard but a buzzing in her ears, whether that comes from wildlife around them or the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The sun is beating down on her head, sweat running from her brow into her eyes, stinging. She leans in again, closes her eyes and wraps her lips around Connor's cock, tasting salt there, too.
He makes another stifled sound and his hand slaps against the side of the truck. She blinks her eyes open and watches his fingers curl against the paint, scrabbling for a grip as she swallows, swirling her tongue around the end of his knob and teasing at his foreskin.
There's gravel under her knees, digging in each time she shifts position, first nosing at Connor's groin, then pulling back far enough to wrap her fingers around his shaft and pump it slowly while she flicks her tongue over the head.
Becker's footsteps come closer then pause, but she doesn't think he's seen them yet. She lets her hand slide down Connor's length, cupping his balls as she takes him in deeper. He's close, she can feel it, his balls shrinking, tightening in her fingers as his whole body tenses. When she glances up this time, Connor's head is half turned away from her - listening for Becker, too - but his fingers are still curled against the car's side and his teeth are buried in his lip.
She pulls back again, opening her mouth and resting the tip of his dick on her bottom lip, tasting it on her tongue. Her fingers fly along his shaft, no finesse at all in her movements as she drives him towards coming, and she stares up at him, willing him to look at her, fierce and needy. When he finally turns his head back and looks down at her, it's as though he's heard everything she didn't say.
His eyes are blown, black on dark brown, and his lips are parted now, the imprint of his teeth red marks on his skin and his breath whistling through them. She can hear it, even over the pounding of her heart in her ears, but she has no idea if Becker can. She doesn't care much; her hand moves faster, more firmly, and Connor's whole body shudders, his fingers still scrabbling for a hold and his eyes wide and shocked. He's trying to stay still, oh so very still, but he loses it enough to thrust into her mouth, small, rough jerks of his hips that make her gag as her fingers continue to play with him.
She places her free hand on his belly, holding him still as she keeps on jerking him off. It leaves her off-balance and she has to shift her knees apart, her shoes scraping on the gravel. There are small starbursts of pain where the small stones cut and graze her skin, and she's finding it difficult to catch her breath, caught up in the feel of Connor in her mouth and under her fingertips. But when he comes, she's ready for him, pulling back far enough so that he spills onto her open mouth, on her tongue, as good at this as any porn star he's ever watched and pretended he didn't.
He watches her, too, and can't pretend he's not, his fist in his mouth and his eyes lost but never moving from her face.
She doesn't swallow, not at first, even though Connor's come is slightly bitter in her mouth and droplets are escaping over her lips. Becker's footsteps are coming closer still, or maybe that's just the sounds of the world around them ringing in her ears as everything comes back to her. She pushes herself up, staggering a little as the blood starts to circulate in her legs again, and stumbles against Connor, who catches hold of her, pulling her closer. His body is warm, damp where he's been sweating, and she presses her mouth against his, her fingers buried in his hair as she holds him steady; she might be willing to swallow, but she's not doing it alone. She slides her tongue into his mouth, swallows down his moan as he tastes himself. He's still half-hard, his cock not softening yet, and she can feel the tip of it against her stomach, wet against her skin where her t-shirt has ridden up.
She presses closer, aching for him.
Becker clears his throat behind her. Abby doesn't jump, but Connor does; she can feel him start under her hands and he pulls his mouth away, looking guiltily over her shoulder. She doesn't look up either; she turns her face into Connor's neck, breathing against his skin and wondering what Becker's reaction would be if she stepped back, let him see what her body is carefully shielding from view - Connor's open trousers, his cock still hanging out in the breeze. She would never do that to Connor, expose him like that, but on the other hand, the idea of doing it, of having Becker know for sure what they were up to, is a hell of a turn on.
"When you two lovebirds have quite finished," Becker says dryly, and Connor twitches, still guilty. "There's no sign of the anomaly," Becker continues, seeming oblivious to the fact that neither of them has moved. "So you know the drill..."
"We camp and we wait," Abby replies, finally turning her head to look at Becker, her body still pressed tightly against Connor's. He's moved to the side of them, the gravel crunching underneath his feet, and he's not looking at them now - he's watching the empty building, or maybe looking for his men. He snorts, shifting position and looking back at her. She can't help but smirk at him. "If there is an anomaly, anything that came through is going to hear you coming."
He smirks back at her, quirking an eyebrow for good measure. "You didn't," he says before turning away again and starting back down the small embankment from the car park towards the building. She takes the opportunity to pull back fractionally from Connor, sliding her hand between their bellies to stroke her fingertip over the sensitive end of his cock. He twitches again, casting another guilty look in Becker's direction but Becker isn't interested in them anymore, and Connor risks pulling far enough away from her to tuck his cock back out of sight and fumble with the fastenings of his jeans.
Becker's voice drifts back to them, edged with impatience or something, at least, that quickens his words and leaves them with a hint of sharpness around the edges. "Feel free to come and join us anytime."
Does he know? Had he seen?
It's difficult to tell what Becker's thinking at the best of times; after a moment, she gives a little inner mental shrug and looks back at Connor. He's staring after Becker with a small frown between his eyes, but she doesn't think he read anything into what Becker said.
"So..." His voice is a little hoarse, and he glances at her before looking back at Becker again. No, not Becker, because Becker's moved to the left but Connor's still looking in the same direction. She leans in closer, moving until her hair brushes his cheek, and realises that he's staring at the building. "I guess we're camping in there, then?"
"I'd guess so."
The look he gives her now is carefully nonchalant. "Think we should go and check it out?"
He doesn't wait for her to answer, but grabs her hand impatiently, pulling her down across the car park and yelling after Becker, "Hey, Becker? Me and Abby are going to check out where we're camping, yeah?"
She thinks Becker rolls his eyes, but Connor is still tugging at her and her legs haven't quite recovered. She has to concentrate on keeping her balance.
It's much darker inside the building than out, and for a second she's blind, sunspots dancing in her vision. There is light - it streams through the large, dirty windows that cover one wall, grimy enough to leave it dim but not so dark you couldn't see through them if you wanted to.
Becker and his men are still outside, exploring. They could be closer than either Abby or Connor think.
Connor pushes her up against a bench and he kisses her hungrily, his fingers already sliding into her knickers, stroking against her wet folds. As he tugs at her knickers and falls down to his knees in front of her, it occurs to her that maybe Connor's missed living dangerously, too.
The End
Author: alyse
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing: Abby/Connor
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Series 3 to date
Disclaimer: Primeval and its characters belong to Impossible Pictures. No copyright infringement is intended. This is fanfiction, written solely for love of the show.
Word Count: ~2,000.
Status: Complete.
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Written for mmom.
Summary: Abby's got used to living dangerously.
-o-
It took almost three years from first finding the anomalies to Connor figuring out how to lock them down, shrinking them into a hard shell so that nothing could come through. It took another eighteen months after that before he and Sarah finally perfected what Cutter was working on when he died - a way to predict the anomalies before they opened. Once they manage that, the team moves from reactive to proactive, hunting anomalies down before they even have a chance to bloom and then, when they've found them, they just wait around for them to open so that they can shut them down again with a flick of a switch.
Connor and Sarah's modelling isn't foolproof - it's based on historical records, and Sarah's the first to admit that they're not perfect - so there's still that element of danger, the occasional anomaly that they can't predict, the creature they hadn't counted on. Then it's back to what they used to do, running around like blue-arsed flies, trying to save the world. But most of the time, everything is under control. It feels like they might finally win: that people will stop dying, that the world will stop ending.
Abby should be relieved, and she is, especially after the losses that their team has suffered. It's just that...
Abby's got used to living dangerously and now that her life has become humdrum, she misses the hell out of it. That's probably she's on her knees behind the SUV at the latest potential anomaly site, sucking Connor off.
Becker and the two men he brought with them are off exploring the terrain, getting a feel for it, just in case. She and Connor - even these days - have strict instructions to 'stay with the car' and 'don't do anything stupid'. That little speech has become rote for Becker, as routine as all of their days are. It's something said without thought because Becker doesn't think anything's going to happen.
Abby's tired of waiting for things to happen and she's tired of not being stupid. Besides, Becker said 'stay with the car' not 'stay in the car', not that it would matter one way or the other. He knows them too well. That's why he hasn't ventured far.
She can hear him even now. He's maybe fifty feet away, his boots crunching on the gravel as he paces. He's looking at the building, she thinks, the one that's half warehouse/half factory and all empty, and she leans in, sucks down on Connor's cock until she thinks she'll choke.
Connor makes a sound, soft and muffled, and when she looks up at him, frowning, he has his fist up to his mouth. She can't tell if he's biting it or whether it's just to muffle the noises he's making, but she slides her mouth off his dick anyway and it falls from her lips with a soft, wet 'pop'.
It's wet to the touch, slick with her spit and his pre-come, and she strokes it, up and down, while she tilts her head, straining for any sounds coming from Becker's direction, anything that might tell her that he was about to walk around the bonnet of the car and see them there. But there's nothing to be heard but a buzzing in her ears, whether that comes from wildlife around them or the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The sun is beating down on her head, sweat running from her brow into her eyes, stinging. She leans in again, closes her eyes and wraps her lips around Connor's cock, tasting salt there, too.
He makes another stifled sound and his hand slaps against the side of the truck. She blinks her eyes open and watches his fingers curl against the paint, scrabbling for a grip as she swallows, swirling her tongue around the end of his knob and teasing at his foreskin.
There's gravel under her knees, digging in each time she shifts position, first nosing at Connor's groin, then pulling back far enough to wrap her fingers around his shaft and pump it slowly while she flicks her tongue over the head.
Becker's footsteps come closer then pause, but she doesn't think he's seen them yet. She lets her hand slide down Connor's length, cupping his balls as she takes him in deeper. He's close, she can feel it, his balls shrinking, tightening in her fingers as his whole body tenses. When she glances up this time, Connor's head is half turned away from her - listening for Becker, too - but his fingers are still curled against the car's side and his teeth are buried in his lip.
She pulls back again, opening her mouth and resting the tip of his dick on her bottom lip, tasting it on her tongue. Her fingers fly along his shaft, no finesse at all in her movements as she drives him towards coming, and she stares up at him, willing him to look at her, fierce and needy. When he finally turns his head back and looks down at her, it's as though he's heard everything she didn't say.
His eyes are blown, black on dark brown, and his lips are parted now, the imprint of his teeth red marks on his skin and his breath whistling through them. She can hear it, even over the pounding of her heart in her ears, but she has no idea if Becker can. She doesn't care much; her hand moves faster, more firmly, and Connor's whole body shudders, his fingers still scrabbling for a hold and his eyes wide and shocked. He's trying to stay still, oh so very still, but he loses it enough to thrust into her mouth, small, rough jerks of his hips that make her gag as her fingers continue to play with him.
She places her free hand on his belly, holding him still as she keeps on jerking him off. It leaves her off-balance and she has to shift her knees apart, her shoes scraping on the gravel. There are small starbursts of pain where the small stones cut and graze her skin, and she's finding it difficult to catch her breath, caught up in the feel of Connor in her mouth and under her fingertips. But when he comes, she's ready for him, pulling back far enough so that he spills onto her open mouth, on her tongue, as good at this as any porn star he's ever watched and pretended he didn't.
He watches her, too, and can't pretend he's not, his fist in his mouth and his eyes lost but never moving from her face.
She doesn't swallow, not at first, even though Connor's come is slightly bitter in her mouth and droplets are escaping over her lips. Becker's footsteps are coming closer still, or maybe that's just the sounds of the world around them ringing in her ears as everything comes back to her. She pushes herself up, staggering a little as the blood starts to circulate in her legs again, and stumbles against Connor, who catches hold of her, pulling her closer. His body is warm, damp where he's been sweating, and she presses her mouth against his, her fingers buried in his hair as she holds him steady; she might be willing to swallow, but she's not doing it alone. She slides her tongue into his mouth, swallows down his moan as he tastes himself. He's still half-hard, his cock not softening yet, and she can feel the tip of it against her stomach, wet against her skin where her t-shirt has ridden up.
She presses closer, aching for him.
Becker clears his throat behind her. Abby doesn't jump, but Connor does; she can feel him start under her hands and he pulls his mouth away, looking guiltily over her shoulder. She doesn't look up either; she turns her face into Connor's neck, breathing against his skin and wondering what Becker's reaction would be if she stepped back, let him see what her body is carefully shielding from view - Connor's open trousers, his cock still hanging out in the breeze. She would never do that to Connor, expose him like that, but on the other hand, the idea of doing it, of having Becker know for sure what they were up to, is a hell of a turn on.
"When you two lovebirds have quite finished," Becker says dryly, and Connor twitches, still guilty. "There's no sign of the anomaly," Becker continues, seeming oblivious to the fact that neither of them has moved. "So you know the drill..."
"We camp and we wait," Abby replies, finally turning her head to look at Becker, her body still pressed tightly against Connor's. He's moved to the side of them, the gravel crunching underneath his feet, and he's not looking at them now - he's watching the empty building, or maybe looking for his men. He snorts, shifting position and looking back at her. She can't help but smirk at him. "If there is an anomaly, anything that came through is going to hear you coming."
He smirks back at her, quirking an eyebrow for good measure. "You didn't," he says before turning away again and starting back down the small embankment from the car park towards the building. She takes the opportunity to pull back fractionally from Connor, sliding her hand between their bellies to stroke her fingertip over the sensitive end of his cock. He twitches again, casting another guilty look in Becker's direction but Becker isn't interested in them anymore, and Connor risks pulling far enough away from her to tuck his cock back out of sight and fumble with the fastenings of his jeans.
Becker's voice drifts back to them, edged with impatience or something, at least, that quickens his words and leaves them with a hint of sharpness around the edges. "Feel free to come and join us anytime."
Does he know? Had he seen?
It's difficult to tell what Becker's thinking at the best of times; after a moment, she gives a little inner mental shrug and looks back at Connor. He's staring after Becker with a small frown between his eyes, but she doesn't think he read anything into what Becker said.
"So..." His voice is a little hoarse, and he glances at her before looking back at Becker again. No, not Becker, because Becker's moved to the left but Connor's still looking in the same direction. She leans in closer, moving until her hair brushes his cheek, and realises that he's staring at the building. "I guess we're camping in there, then?"
"I'd guess so."
The look he gives her now is carefully nonchalant. "Think we should go and check it out?"
He doesn't wait for her to answer, but grabs her hand impatiently, pulling her down across the car park and yelling after Becker, "Hey, Becker? Me and Abby are going to check out where we're camping, yeah?"
She thinks Becker rolls his eyes, but Connor is still tugging at her and her legs haven't quite recovered. She has to concentrate on keeping her balance.
It's much darker inside the building than out, and for a second she's blind, sunspots dancing in her vision. There is light - it streams through the large, dirty windows that cover one wall, grimy enough to leave it dim but not so dark you couldn't see through them if you wanted to.
Becker and his men are still outside, exploring. They could be closer than either Abby or Connor think.
Connor pushes her up against a bench and he kisses her hungrily, his fingers already sliding into her knickers, stroking against her wet folds. As he tugs at her knickers and falls down to his knees in front of her, it occurs to her that maybe Connor's missed living dangerously, too.
The End