Fic: Connor Temple, Sex God (Primeval, Abby/Connor, Connor/Stephen, Abby/Connor/Stephen, NC-17)
Title: Connor Temple, Sex God
Author: alyse
Fandom: Primeval
Pairings: Abby/Connor, Connor/Stephen, Abby/Connor/Stephen
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Set in vague series 1. No spoilers.
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: ~13,700.
Status: Complete
Author's Notes: Written for the Primeval Ficathon for
beren_writes, for prompt #1: aphrodisiac pollen or aphrodisiac insect bites or anything that makes them frisky :) and who also wanted a threesome.
I'm so, so sorry it's late, hon. Not only did McAfee eat half my fic late Thursday night (as you know) but when I rewrote what I'd lost, it ended up being four times as long as I'd originally planned. That might possibly have had something to do with all of a sudden it no longer being a PG-13 fic with some references to fade to black scenes. In fact, there might now be a sex scene or four in it. I figured that since I'd made you wait, I was duty bound to write you pr0n. Lots of pr0n. I hope you like it ::g::
Many thanks to
aithine for the beta services and
temaris for general cheerleading.
Summary: There was no doubt about it. Connor was a sex god.
-o-
It was Abby who noticed it first. Rather, it was Abby who noticed him first. Looking back, that should probably have clued him in. He'd been trying to get Abby to notice him for months, ever since she'd strode into his life in a pair of too tight jeans and a pixie cut. It worked for her and it definitely worked for him, but she'd never noticed him back, not the way he wanted her to - she only seemed to notice him when he was being particularly dorky or clumsy, and that happened far too often for Connor's peace of mind.
But one Tuesday she actually looked at him rather than through him and then, as if the universe had finally decided it needed to cut him a break - or, more likely knowing Connor's luck, had decided to set him up for an epic fall - she leant in towards him, closing the gap between them until she was close enough for him to see every faint freckle that adorned her exceptionally pretty face.
"Hmm," she said, and then she breathed in deeply, her eyes sliding shut. He blinked at her, not entirely sure what was going on. Was she... sniffing him?
"You smell nice," she said, and apparently she was. "Is that aftershave?"
No, it wasn't, not after her lecture the last time he'd tried for the Lynx effect. He now knew more than he'd ever wanted to about how sensitive the olfactory organs were on certain species of animals. Including - especially - lizards, which in Abby's world was an exceptionally hideous crime. In fact, she might have said something along the lines of it not mattering how sensitive any creature's olfactory organs were anyway because every living thing within a ten mile radius would be able to smell him. 'Including the plants.'
No, he didn't want a repeat of that, not now his eardrums had finally stopped ringing. "No," he said and it might have come out a little more defensively than he'd intended. He was about to launch into more blustering - but possibly not quite as defensive because Abby could pack a mean kick when roused - when she took the wind out of his sails. This time when she leant in, she placed one small, strong hand on his shoulder to steady herself and he would swear that the tip of her nose brushed over his skin.
"Must be you, then," she said, and her hand lingered for a moment on his shoulder before she pulled away. She tilted her head, looking at him from under her eyelashes, and then her mouth quirked upwards in a way that got his full attention. "I like it," she added simply, and that pretty much rendered him speechless for the rest of the day. So much so that even Lester noticed and asked, unjustifiably suspicious in Connor's rather wounded opinion, whether he was sickening for something.
-o-
Wednesday morning dawned bright and cheerful, and Connor felt much the same way. Abby's eyes kept meeting his over the breakfast table and for once she wasn't complaining about the fact that he'd dipped the same knife he'd used for the butter into the jam and left little buttery traces through it, like airplane trails if they were flying through solidified fruit and he really needed to start thinking these sort of metaphors through before his brain got distracted by the bright and the shiny of Abby's smile and short, short pyjama shorts.
And she kept smiling, as well, all through the day. Just these little quirks of her mouth, like she knew something he didn't. Sort of a cat got the cream smile, and he shouldn't have thought of that metaphor either because it led to thinking of Abby and licking and purring and he was so going to hell and if he kept thinking things like that it was a pretty good bet that Abby would help him on his way there. She'd always been very clear that they were mates, and that was all. He was staying with her, on her sufferance, not 'living together', no matter what he'd told Stephen.
It didn't stop him from smiling back, even when she stole his lunch.
-o-
By Wednesday afternoon, Abby was still smiling at him. It might have been wishful thinking, but he'd swear that she was also starting to find excuses to brush up against him, to touch him or even sometimes just stand close enough to him to smell him. Normally that would have been a little bit creepy but this was Abby and, frankly, if she wanted to strip his clothes off him and roll around in them for a while, that would have been absolutely fine with him. More than fine, actually, and the thought of it made him flush bright red until Stephen noticed made some comment about him overheating.
"You should take some of those layers off," Stephen said with a look that was far too knowing for Connor's comfort. "Not even you can need that many clothes now that the weather's getting warmer." And then he smirked, leaning in conspiratorially, something Connor was stupid enough to fall for. "Strip, Connor," he murmured, and Connor's face burned.
Stephen could be a complete bastard sometimes, even if he didn't know just how close he was to the mark. Knowing he was just made him worse, so Connor braced himself for at least a day or two of teasing until Stephen got bored and moved on. And, of course, when he did get around to removing his jacket, he'd broken out in prickly heat all up one of his arms. Thank God Stephen wasn't around to tease him about that, too.
It really wasn't fair. Stephen never had to worry about things like misinterpreting signals. He probably got knickers thrown at him, or whatever passed for 'rock star status' in the world of palaeontology, on a regular basis. Connor'd never even seen a pair of knickers, at least not in the flesh when a girl was wearing them. He figured drunken Agrics didn't count and there were some sights that should forever be stricken from his memory. Like most of Fresher's Week, come to think of it.
So when later that afternoon Stephen cornered him in one of the small store rooms buried in the basement of the Home Office building, down near the labs, Connor heaved a mental sigh and braced himself for the worst Stephen had to offer - maybe a little mocking about the blushing and the stammering whenever Abby was near. At least Stephen wasn't cruel enough to touch on the fact that Connor actually believed that he might stand a chance with Abby. Or that Connor believed he might stand a chance with anyone.
"Did you want something?" he asked, rather irritated that after closing the door, Stephen was simply standing there and saying nothing, just looking at him with this weird expression on his face. "Stephen?"
His heart skipped a bit when Stephen finally moved, looming over him and crowding in on him in a way that wasn't entirely comfortable. He blinked up at Stephen, frowning in confusion, and opened his mouth to tell Stephen to get knotted - only probably more politely than that because this was Stephen after all - but then Stephen shoved him up against the shelving units and proceeded to kiss the ever living daylights out of him.
His brain short circuited, sparking out without putting up even the faintest hint of a fight. When Stephen finally pulled back, staring down at him seriously, there were no words. Literally. In fact, Connor might even have done the goldfish thing, where his mouth kept opening in the hope that the words might actually deign to show up and then closing it again when it became clear that they'd pretty much fled for the hills along with the rest of his higher brain functions. That goldfish thing must have been why Stephen switched his gaze from staring into Connor's eyes to staring at his mouth. That had to be why, right? It wasn't as though Stephen was going to kiss him again...
Oh. Apparently he'd been wrong about that as well.
This time when Stephen finally pulled back, his lips separated from Connor's with a wet sort of sound that shouldn't have been anywhere near as hot as it was. But then Stephen kissing him shouldn't have been anywhere near as hot as it was, not when Connor had a thing for Abby - like a really big thing for Abby. And not when Connor was really, really straight. He'd thought.
Stephen kissed him again, or maybe he kissed Stephen. It was all getting very confusing, far too confusing for Connor and his brain was still on holiday - he couldn't focus on thinking it through, not when Stephen's lips were moving slowly over his doing things that Connor didn't even know could be done. He had a strange feeling that this might be important on some level, but it was getting a little warm in that cupboard, which had to be due to two warm bodies giving off heat in a very enclosed space and weren't the physics of convection really quite interesting and he wondered if maybe he should follow Stephen's earlier advice and remove some layers of clothing, and then he wondered if maybe Stephen would like to help him with that. Somehow, tracking that train of thoughts around its winding trail to its inevitable conclusion seemed much more important than worrying about why Stephen was kissing him.
Stephen's hand slid along his waist, his fingers gliding up underneath the tails of Connor's shirt to stroke over Connor's vest and, oh, that was really quite interesting, too. Maybe if he asked Stephen very nicely, Stephen wouldn't stop. Ever.
When Stephen rose for air again, Connor didn't quite beg for another kiss. Not quite, although it was a close run thing. Instead, he said, "Um," which quite an intelligent remark under the circumstances, he thought, especially when Stephen was standing so close that Connor could actually feel Stephen's breath on his face. "That... um..." There were words out there somewhere, there had to be. If he could only find them. Words to put into semi-coherent sentences like 'I thought I was straight' and 'I like Abby and you're not Abby' and 'I thought you liked girls' and 'maybe you'd like to help me road test that straight theory?' Okay, strike that one because he'd had vague thoughts of not begging, but maybe he should reconsider his stance on that because Stephen's fingers had found skin now and were stroking small circles, just above the waistband of Connor's trousers. Who knew that just a simple touch like that would feel that good? It was certainly new to Connor, and he swallowed down a sound that sounded suspiciously like it might have come out as a moan.
"Hmmm." Stephen pressed closer to Connor like an affection starved cat. Connor swallowed - Stephen really was a lot taller than Connor when they were up this close. It was weird how Connor didn't mind that, especially not when Stephen lowered his head, his nose nudging at Connor's neck until Connor really had to tilt his head back, shivering slightly as Stephen's breath brushed over his skin. It was only polite when someone did... whatever Stephen was doing. Right? "You smell nice."
Stephen's mouth was right next to Connor's skin, his lips brushing over the surface as he formed the words, Connor feeling them as much as hearing them. Stephen's voice rumbling through his body triggered a whole Pavlovian shivering thing he seemed to be developing in response to Stephen and proximity and Stephen being proximal and, oh.
Stephen licked him, rough tongue sliding over his skin.
That.... That should not have felt anywhere near as good as it had.
"Taste nice, too," Stephen murmured, his mouth tracing up over Connor's chin, still barely brushing the surface but making Connor shiver anyway, feverish chills shaking his body as his fingers spasmed involuntarily against Stephen's broad shoulders. "I wonder if you taste that nice everywhere?"
His mouth hovered over Connor's for a long moment, Stephen's blue eyes meeting and holding his. And then Stephen pulled back again, a devilish grin forming on his face as his fingers - still stroking over Connor's skin - paused for a moment before they flattened possessively against Connor's waist. Then Stephen was sinking to his knees and... oh... my... God.
And that was how Connor lost his virginity. Well, for the first time, anyway.
-o-
He should have felt guiltier about it, given how he felt about Abby and given how Abby seemed to have started feeling about him, but the rush of endorphins kept him grinning for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. Even the prickly heat seemed to have faded, but that might have been to do with Stephen helping him with that overheating thing by removing as many items of Connor's clothing as they felt they could get away with in a semi-public space. Any brief spurt of guilt he did feel whenever his eyes caught Abby's didn't linger once she turned away. It should have done, it really should have, but Abby kept smiling at him, her eyes lighting up, and with that sight in front of him, how could he feel anything but good?
And him and Stephen... It had been fucking fabulous - and there was a pun in there somewhere - but it wasn't like they were going to make a habit of it, was it? It was difficult not to feel some regret at that, especially remembering how Stephen had done that thing with his tongue, and then that other thing with his fingers, and... wow. Still tingling. In fact, the memories kept him coasting on a high until well into the evening, long after he and Abby had made their way back to the flat.
As usual, it was his turn to cook, which was actually something he didn't mind much because Abby was one of those exceptionally rare people who managed to burn water. He wouldn't have thought it possible until he'd seen it with his own eyes and he really needed to learn to think before he spoke because it had taken a week afterwards for the bruise on his arm to fade.
Stephen had left bruises, too. Small ones, on his hips, right where Stephen's thumbs had rested when he... The memories were still enough to make him smile, and he whistled as he moved around the kitchen, Abby's eyes following him. She was perched on the stool by the counter and, when he glanced over at her, she was smiling, too, a small, secretive smile like she knew something he didn't.
She couldn't know, could she? The thought made him miss a step as he stared at her, his face probably giving away a hell of a lot more than he intended. He swallowed down the guilt that was now - finally and too late - starting to bubble to the surface, and Abby's smile deepened.
"Your pot's starting to boil," she purred, lips turning up in a way that ought to be illegal. She was wearing lipstick - he was sure she hadn't been wearing lipstick at work, at least not that shade, a deep, vibrant pink that made him think thoughts that were probably just as illegal.
"What?"
"Pot, Connor," she breathed, rising like a cat from her stool and padding over towards him. He stared at her, wooden spoon drooping from fingers that suddenly didn't know how to grip. His knees weren't that steady, either, especially not when she leant past him, close enough for her body to brush up against his as she switched off the stove. "There," she said, pulling back to stare up at him with eyes that were just thin rings of blue around dark, deep and dangerous pupils. "Hmm... Something smells good."
He swallowed down. "Must be the pasta sauce," he said, and she leant in closer, the heat of her body and the scent of her perfume surrounding him.
Wait. Perfume?
"Abby..."
"No," and there was no mistaking the purr in her voice this time. Her fingers moved, coming to rest on his chest, right over his heart, and his pulse leapt. It wasn't the only thing that was leaping to attention. "It's not the pasta sauce." She leant in closer still, her face a hairsbreadth from his, the soft exhalation breath brushing against the sensitive skin next to his ear. "It's you."
She placed a soft kiss there and the spoon finally gave up the ghost and clattered to the floor, his knees sagging as they, too, succumbed to gravity. Or maybe just to Abby's pull. "I... I thought you were hungry?" he said weakly, and she smiled, her lips curving against his skin.
"I am," she murmured. She pulled back until she could look straight into his face, staring at him with a kind of intense look that he'd not seen before. Not just hungry, but like she was starving and he was an all you can eat buffet.
He swallowed nervously again. "Abby...?"
"Shut up, Connor," she said, and then her mouth settled on his, hot and wet and needy, none of Abby's usual second thoughts in it. Nothing in it but hunger. "It's dinner time."
And that was how Connor lost his virginity for the second time.
He was never looking at spatulas the same way again.
-o-
Thursday morning dawned bright and early, far earlier than Connor was used to but apparently Abby was just as talented with her mouth as Stephen had been. So much better than an alarm clock, and white lights flared across the inside of his tightly closed eyelids as he spilled into Abby's mouth, his fingers scrabbling desperately at his pillow.
"Hey," she said, pulling back from his still twitching cock. She licked at her lips and the sight alone was enough for his treacherous cock to start showing interest again. She was going to kill him but at least he was going to die bloody happy. She moved up his body, her fingers sliding over the sensitive skin at the head of his cock, making him squirm as she gripped him lightly, slowly moving the foreskin up and down until he started to harden again under her touch. "Hmmm," she murmured and leant in to kiss him, sloppy and open mouthed.
He could taste himself on her tongue, in the contours of her mouth, bitter and salty, and he pulled her closer, his dick jerking in her hand. God, maybe this was what Stephen tasted like. Maybe one day he'd get to taste Stephen, maybe even on Abby's tongue.
The thought was filthy enough to have him moaning, clutching at Abby with desperate fingers as her grip tightened, now sliding the full length of his cock through her fist.
"I want you," she said, pulling back and staring down at him with eyes that were dark with need. "Now."
She moved to straddle him, using her fingers to guide him into her. They were still wet from his come; he could feel it when she steadied herself with her hand on the flat of his belly as she lowered herself onto him.
God, she was beautiful. No wonder he was getting hard again so quickly when he had this to look forward to. Her head was thrown back, the cords of her neck standing out in sharp relief. Her breasts were small and perfect, the nipples already hard when he brushed his thumbs over them, feeling her rock into his touch. He came back, twisting one of them gently between his finger and thumb the way she'd shown him she liked it last night, and she let out a sharp little cry, her head falling forward until she was staring down at him.
Her eyes were still wide, wild and a little lost as she sank down on him again, a perfect, tight, wet heat. "Make me come, Connor. Please."
He caught hold of her hips, pulling her down against him as he pushed up, sliding into her as deeply as he could and she let out another one of those sharp, perfect little sounds, her mouth a little lost moue. Again and her fingers curled against his stomach, fingernails digging in with prickly little pains that did nothing to take the edge off the need to come in her again. "Connor," she sighed, and he pulled her down again, faster this time, harder and harder until the blood rushing in his ears drowned out even the sound of their flesh meeting and the high, shrill sounds of Abby's pleasure.
She slumped against him when he finally came in her, her breath hot, wet pants against his skin. "Oh, that was..."
"Yeah," he said, and she pushed herself off him, his cock sliding free of her as she sank down onto the bed next to him.
She rolled over onto her side and simply watched him, that secretive little smile still adorning her face, until he turned his head to look at her. Then her smile turned wicked, and she leant in to steal another kiss, her tongue sliding past his lips, running over his teeth. He could still taste himself in her mouth and his fingers reached up, cupping her breast. "Hmmm," she said again, pulling back far enough for his fingers to slip from her skin. She replaced them with her own, running her hands over her breasts, fingers circling her nipples. Her smile was still wicked and she waited until she had his full attention before her hands drifted southwards, down over the soft, luxurious curve of her belly to the lushness between her thighs.
She closed her eyes when she pushed her fingers into herself, her lips parting with a contented sigh, and she was seriously going to kill him if she kept this up. He couldn't tear his eyes away, though, pushing himself up onto his elbow so he could watch as she slid her fingers out again, glistening with her come and his. He licked his lips, wondering what she would taste like - what he would taste like mixed with her - if he went down on her right now. He hadn't done that yet and, God, now he wanted to.
She pushed her fingers back in with a moan and he swallowed, reaching out to stroke his fingers lightly over her skin. She opened her eyes again, sliding her fingers from her body with a soft, satisfied smile. And then she wrapped them around his cock, her fingers hot and slick and tight and wet.
"Ready for round four?"
-o-
He made it in to Cutter's office eventually, although his knees still didn't want to work quite right. But it didn't matter - the world was passing by in a delightful haze. If he closed his eyes he could still picture Abby's face, slack with pleasure when she came. And when he opened them again, she might even be there, passing on her way to somewhere or another on the University campus with one of those smiles again, the ones she seemed to have just for him.
It was easy to get distracted by the sight and the scent of her, the way her body moved as she stalked past, all fluid lines now, her hips rolling rather than the kind of brisk movement he normally associated with her. And those hips and that bum... He'd left bruises on both this morning, not intentionally, but the same kind of bruises that Stephen had left on his hips - small, thumb shaped ones that said, clearly as anything, 'Connor was here'.
"Connor." Cutter's voice dragged him back to the present, sharp and brisk with irritation. He murmured an apology, drifting back over to Cutter's desk and turning his attention back to the photographs spread across it. The pictures were blurry, too blurry for Connor to be able to tell what they were with any certainty. What he was sure was that they couldn't be of the lorry that was the official explanation for knocking over the CCTV in Tesco's car park. If he squinted, he could possibly make out something big, maybe even reptilian, but whatever it was it seemed to be a little camera shy. Connor offered his observations a little sheepishly, biting his lip before adding some vague and half-hearted comments about government conspiracies. It was hard to get enthusiastic about them now, even on the best of days. Not when you were part of one and especially not when there were so much better things to get enthusiastic about.
"Sorry, Professor," he added, when Cutter simply looked at him, the exasperation clear on his face. "I think Lester's wrong, but that's about as far as I can go."
Cutter's face softened. "Never mind," he said, laying one big hand on the back of Connor's neck in a way that was almost affectionate and giving him a little shake. "Maybe we can send Stephen out to the site, have a good look around and see if there's anything else there."
"Where is Stephen?" Connor asked idly, scratching at his wrist again.
Cutter shrugged. "Around," was all he had to say as he stared down at the photographs, his eyes tracking over the dark, blurry images. "I think he and Abby might be working on something." Normally that would have made Connor just a little bit envious, maybe even jealous, but not today. Today was just awesome.
Cutter's hand was still resting on the back of his neck and that was kind of awesome, too. Cutter wasn't one to show affection, not normally, so Connor figured he could be forgiven for basking in it for a moment. Certainly, he might have leant in to Cutter's touch, just a little bit.
"Anyway," said Cutter, seeming to give himself a little mental shake. "Can't be helped." His fingers tightened for a second, just fractionally, but it felt like a caress. "We'll figure it out or we won't." Then Cutter's voice trailed off and he turned his head towards Connor. There was a small frown on his face, but it wasn't an annoyed or irritated one - Connor recognised those by now. He wasn't quite sure what the underlying emotion was, and he simply looked at Cutter until Cutter leant in closer. "You... smell good."
Connor blinked.
"Hey." The sound of Stephen's voice drifted in from the doorway and Cutter's fingers twitched against his neck before they let go, Cutter taking a step back. The frown on his face still wasn't annoyed but there was an air of puzzlement about it now. Maybe that was what Connor had seen before. "You busy, Connor?"
Connor blinked again, looking slowly between Cutter and Stephen. "No...?"
"Do you need him?" Stephen asked, turning his attention back to Cutter, and maybe Connor was imagining it but there seemed to be a slight edge to his voice. Cutter shook his head slightly, but it didn't seem to be for Stephen's benefit. It was almost as though he were clearing his head, shaking away the cobwebs after a long night. And then he looked up at Stephen, that small frown still gracing his face.
"No. No, I don't." Cutter's voice wasn't certain as he glanced back at Connor but Stephen nodded anyway.
"Okay. Can you give me a hand with something, Connor?"
"Sure." He could think of several somethings, actually. "Catch you later, yeah, Professor?" Cutter blinked at him again, his expression segueing from puzzled to outright confused as Connor started to move towards Stephen. That - the strangeness of that - stopped Connor in his tracks, hesitating in the doorway as he looked back. "You okay?"
Cutter blinked again and then his face cleared. "I'm fine, Connor. Just... tired, I think." He gave Connor a vague smile, one that barely lifted the corners of his mouth but was no less genuine for it. "You and Stephen have fun with whatever you're up to. I'll keep working on these, okay?"
"Sure." Appeased, Connor smiled back at the man and then let Stephen guide him through the doorway, Stephen's hand settling in the small of his back as though it belonged there.
"What did you want me to do?" he asked Stephen as soon as they were out of earshot. Stephen simply looked at him, his fingers still resting against Connor's back, just enough of a touch to remind Connor of Stephen's presence, as though the proximity of the man wouldn't do it for him. He had to resist the urge to lean into Stephen, too, not out here, in the corridor where anyone - including Abby - could come across them.
Not that there was anything wrong with what they were doing. Right?
"In here," Stephen said, jerking his head towards a door on their right. Connor nodded obligingly, wondering if this was Stephen's office, if Stephen even had an office. It was close enough to Cutter's, he supposed, but did lab techs and right hand men even get offices? That was part of the whole academic office politics thing that sailed straight over Connor's head.
It wasn't an office - it was another store room, this time holding a few mops and buckets, and lots and lots of toilet rolls, the cheap kind that was the only kind the Uni seemed willing to spring for, if the state of the Student Union loos was any indication.
"Oh," said Connor, all he managed to get out before even that sound was muffled by Stephen's lips settling over his. Stephen's fingers were in his hair, moving slowly over his scalp in a way that made Connor go weak at the knees. "Oh," he said again when Stephen finally released him, his hands moving down to Connor's hips, pulling Connor tightly against him so that Connor could feel how hard Stephen was. Hard for him.
Stephen started to drop to his knees, at least until Connor stopped him, grabbing at his arms and pulling him closer for another kiss. Somehow - and he'd never quite work out how - he managed to get Stephen turned around so that it was Stephen's back against the wall. "Wait," he said, pulling his mouth away from Stephen for long enough to get the word out. Stephen followed him, capturing his mouth again, his tongue sliding in and meeting Connor's.
Connor went weak at the knees again, which made it easier to sink to the floor, his fingers fumbling with the fastenings of Stephen's jeans. It took longer than it should, the buttons not cooperating at all, although maybe that was Connor's nervous fingers, but eventually he managed to ease Stephen's erection out into the air, where it bobbed in time to Connor's rough and clumsy strokes.
It was beautiful like Stephen was beautiful: long, slim, and powerful. Connor took a deep breath and leant in, sliding his tongue over the glans, teasing at the slit in the end, where the taste was bitter, not quite like the taste of his own come on Abby's tongue.
Stephen groaned and, when Connor looked up, Stephen's head was thrown back, the column of his neck tensed like it was carved out of marble, and Connor wanted to rise up, trace his tongue along the length of it, maybe even sink his teeth into it, just hard enough to make Stephen's hips jerk against his. But Stephen's dick was a bigger draw, heavy in the palm of his hand as he stroked his hand along the underneath of it, root to tip.
He leant in again, opening his mouth to suck the very end of it in, closing his lips around it and feeling the weight of it - and the bitter taste of it - on his tongue. Stephen's hand settled in his hair again, Stephen's fingers curling against his scalp, and he swallowed, hearing Stephen groan above him again. The sound of it went to Connor's dick, and he pressed his free hand down on his crotch, the tension building in the pit of his stomach.
He could do this. It was just another first, that was all; Stephen's fingers curled around the back of his head as his dick slid deeper into Connor's mouth, sliding home.
-o-
Abby was waiting for him when he finally stepped out of the University building, blinking blearily in the late afternoon light. She was sitting on a bollard, her feet pressed against the concrete, with her face tilted up towards the sun. She was still beautiful as she had been this morning and he still wanted her.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered over, enjoying the slow burn of desire in his chest and the way it settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. "Hey," he said, stroking his fingers down Abby's back, and she opened her eyes slowly, turning her head to smile at him, as brilliant and blinding as the sun.
"Hey," she said. "Ready to go home?"
He scratched at his chest thoughtfully before he shoved his hand back into his pocket, just so he wouldn't slide it through the delicate, pale strands of her hair, which were gleaming in the late afternoon light, and pull her to him. It could wait until they got home. "Yeah."
She let him through the door, at least, before she pounced, arms winding around his neck as she pressed against him, pressing frantic kisses across his face, down over his neck. Her strong, small hand worked its way into his jeans, sliding under the fabric of his boxers to grasp his cock, which was already half hard and waiting for her. It hardened even more under her touch and he slid one hand underneath her t-shirt, pushing up her bra until he could stroke his fingers over her nipple, feeling it pebble as his thumb circled it.
"I want you," she gasped into his mouth, pulling his head down as she sucked on his bottom lip. Her hand slid along his length and she laughed when he gasped, shaking and caught on the cusp of a moan. "Now."
He was happy to oblige, his hands already pushing her t-shirt off over her head and battling with the fastenings of her jeans. It wasn't as easy as it should have been - her hands kept getting in the way as she tried to get his trousers undone and eventually he just let go of her and let her have a clear run at it. She didn't even let him pull them all the way off - just pushed them down over his hips far enough to free his dick and then wriggled out of hers, kicking them onto the floor like she didn't normally nag him mercilessly for leaving his clothes lying around. Her bra soon followed, and he reached out again to cup one perfect breast. "Now," she said again, and her voice was tight and desperate, going straight to his dick. "Now, Connor."
Her hands were needy as they caught hold of him, fingers as tight as her voice and her mouth greedy and demanding as it settled over his. "Want you in me," she said, the words breathed into him. Yes. God, yes.
The bed was too far, but the sofa wasn't. He'd fucked her there yesterday, sinking into her body as she sank into the cushions, but this time he bent her over the arm, sliding into her from behind. She groaned and pushed back against him, her fingers scrabbling frantically against the cushions, looking for leverage as each thrust into her pushed her forward, her hips slamming back against his.
He leant back and braced himself, looking down. Jesus. He could watch himself, watch his dick sliding in and out of Abby, and it was hotter than anything. Abby pushed back against him, making these frantic little mewling noises, and he lost the rhythm, slamming into her with no finesse; she shook and moaned, finally bracing herself firmly against the arm of the sofa so that she could push back against him and he slid as deeply into her as possible.
She came apart with a small cry, her body convulsing around his, and it dragged him down with her. He slumped, still buried in her beautiful, wonderful body, and pressed his forehead between her sweaty shoulder blades.
"Connor," she sighed, reaching back with one hand to slide it along his skin, stroking wherever she could reach. And then she pushed herself up on shaky arms, patting at him awkwardly until he got the hint and shifted his weight off her, letting her roll over onto her back.
He stared down at her; her face was flushed bright red, sweaty strands of hair clinging to her forehead. She pushed herself up again, this time until she was sitting on the arm of the chair, and reached for him, pulling him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist until her calves pressed against his jeans. He kissed her, slow and deep. "Again, Connor," she murmured against his mouth, fingers curling against his skin, sliding down his back to clutch at his waist. Her strong legs flexed against him, drawing him in until he slid back into her. "Again."
There was no doubt about it. He was a sex god.
-o-
( Connor Temple, Sex God - Part Two of Two )
Author: alyse
Fandom: Primeval
Pairings: Abby/Connor, Connor/Stephen, Abby/Connor/Stephen
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Set in vague series 1. No spoilers.
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: ~13,700.
Status: Complete
Author's Notes: Written for the Primeval Ficathon for
beren_writes, for prompt #1: aphrodisiac pollen or aphrodisiac insect bites or anything that makes them frisky :) and who also wanted a threesome.
I'm so, so sorry it's late, hon. Not only did McAfee eat half my fic late Thursday night (as you know) but when I rewrote what I'd lost, it ended up being four times as long as I'd originally planned. That might possibly have had something to do with all of a sudden it no longer being a PG-13 fic with some references to fade to black scenes. In fact, there might now be a sex scene or four in it. I figured that since I'd made you wait, I was duty bound to write you pr0n. Lots of pr0n. I hope you like it ::g::
Many thanks to
aithine for the beta services and
temaris for general cheerleading.
Summary: There was no doubt about it. Connor was a sex god.
-o-
It was Abby who noticed it first. Rather, it was Abby who noticed him first. Looking back, that should probably have clued him in. He'd been trying to get Abby to notice him for months, ever since she'd strode into his life in a pair of too tight jeans and a pixie cut. It worked for her and it definitely worked for him, but she'd never noticed him back, not the way he wanted her to - she only seemed to notice him when he was being particularly dorky or clumsy, and that happened far too often for Connor's peace of mind.
But one Tuesday she actually looked at him rather than through him and then, as if the universe had finally decided it needed to cut him a break - or, more likely knowing Connor's luck, had decided to set him up for an epic fall - she leant in towards him, closing the gap between them until she was close enough for him to see every faint freckle that adorned her exceptionally pretty face.
"Hmm," she said, and then she breathed in deeply, her eyes sliding shut. He blinked at her, not entirely sure what was going on. Was she... sniffing him?
"You smell nice," she said, and apparently she was. "Is that aftershave?"
No, it wasn't, not after her lecture the last time he'd tried for the Lynx effect. He now knew more than he'd ever wanted to about how sensitive the olfactory organs were on certain species of animals. Including - especially - lizards, which in Abby's world was an exceptionally hideous crime. In fact, she might have said something along the lines of it not mattering how sensitive any creature's olfactory organs were anyway because every living thing within a ten mile radius would be able to smell him. 'Including the plants.'
No, he didn't want a repeat of that, not now his eardrums had finally stopped ringing. "No," he said and it might have come out a little more defensively than he'd intended. He was about to launch into more blustering - but possibly not quite as defensive because Abby could pack a mean kick when roused - when she took the wind out of his sails. This time when she leant in, she placed one small, strong hand on his shoulder to steady herself and he would swear that the tip of her nose brushed over his skin.
"Must be you, then," she said, and her hand lingered for a moment on his shoulder before she pulled away. She tilted her head, looking at him from under her eyelashes, and then her mouth quirked upwards in a way that got his full attention. "I like it," she added simply, and that pretty much rendered him speechless for the rest of the day. So much so that even Lester noticed and asked, unjustifiably suspicious in Connor's rather wounded opinion, whether he was sickening for something.
-o-
Wednesday morning dawned bright and cheerful, and Connor felt much the same way. Abby's eyes kept meeting his over the breakfast table and for once she wasn't complaining about the fact that he'd dipped the same knife he'd used for the butter into the jam and left little buttery traces through it, like airplane trails if they were flying through solidified fruit and he really needed to start thinking these sort of metaphors through before his brain got distracted by the bright and the shiny of Abby's smile and short, short pyjama shorts.
And she kept smiling, as well, all through the day. Just these little quirks of her mouth, like she knew something he didn't. Sort of a cat got the cream smile, and he shouldn't have thought of that metaphor either because it led to thinking of Abby and licking and purring and he was so going to hell and if he kept thinking things like that it was a pretty good bet that Abby would help him on his way there. She'd always been very clear that they were mates, and that was all. He was staying with her, on her sufferance, not 'living together', no matter what he'd told Stephen.
It didn't stop him from smiling back, even when she stole his lunch.
-o-
By Wednesday afternoon, Abby was still smiling at him. It might have been wishful thinking, but he'd swear that she was also starting to find excuses to brush up against him, to touch him or even sometimes just stand close enough to him to smell him. Normally that would have been a little bit creepy but this was Abby and, frankly, if she wanted to strip his clothes off him and roll around in them for a while, that would have been absolutely fine with him. More than fine, actually, and the thought of it made him flush bright red until Stephen noticed made some comment about him overheating.
"You should take some of those layers off," Stephen said with a look that was far too knowing for Connor's comfort. "Not even you can need that many clothes now that the weather's getting warmer." And then he smirked, leaning in conspiratorially, something Connor was stupid enough to fall for. "Strip, Connor," he murmured, and Connor's face burned.
Stephen could be a complete bastard sometimes, even if he didn't know just how close he was to the mark. Knowing he was just made him worse, so Connor braced himself for at least a day or two of teasing until Stephen got bored and moved on. And, of course, when he did get around to removing his jacket, he'd broken out in prickly heat all up one of his arms. Thank God Stephen wasn't around to tease him about that, too.
It really wasn't fair. Stephen never had to worry about things like misinterpreting signals. He probably got knickers thrown at him, or whatever passed for 'rock star status' in the world of palaeontology, on a regular basis. Connor'd never even seen a pair of knickers, at least not in the flesh when a girl was wearing them. He figured drunken Agrics didn't count and there were some sights that should forever be stricken from his memory. Like most of Fresher's Week, come to think of it.
So when later that afternoon Stephen cornered him in one of the small store rooms buried in the basement of the Home Office building, down near the labs, Connor heaved a mental sigh and braced himself for the worst Stephen had to offer - maybe a little mocking about the blushing and the stammering whenever Abby was near. At least Stephen wasn't cruel enough to touch on the fact that Connor actually believed that he might stand a chance with Abby. Or that Connor believed he might stand a chance with anyone.
"Did you want something?" he asked, rather irritated that after closing the door, Stephen was simply standing there and saying nothing, just looking at him with this weird expression on his face. "Stephen?"
His heart skipped a bit when Stephen finally moved, looming over him and crowding in on him in a way that wasn't entirely comfortable. He blinked up at Stephen, frowning in confusion, and opened his mouth to tell Stephen to get knotted - only probably more politely than that because this was Stephen after all - but then Stephen shoved him up against the shelving units and proceeded to kiss the ever living daylights out of him.
His brain short circuited, sparking out without putting up even the faintest hint of a fight. When Stephen finally pulled back, staring down at him seriously, there were no words. Literally. In fact, Connor might even have done the goldfish thing, where his mouth kept opening in the hope that the words might actually deign to show up and then closing it again when it became clear that they'd pretty much fled for the hills along with the rest of his higher brain functions. That goldfish thing must have been why Stephen switched his gaze from staring into Connor's eyes to staring at his mouth. That had to be why, right? It wasn't as though Stephen was going to kiss him again...
Oh. Apparently he'd been wrong about that as well.
This time when Stephen finally pulled back, his lips separated from Connor's with a wet sort of sound that shouldn't have been anywhere near as hot as it was. But then Stephen kissing him shouldn't have been anywhere near as hot as it was, not when Connor had a thing for Abby - like a really big thing for Abby. And not when Connor was really, really straight. He'd thought.
Stephen kissed him again, or maybe he kissed Stephen. It was all getting very confusing, far too confusing for Connor and his brain was still on holiday - he couldn't focus on thinking it through, not when Stephen's lips were moving slowly over his doing things that Connor didn't even know could be done. He had a strange feeling that this might be important on some level, but it was getting a little warm in that cupboard, which had to be due to two warm bodies giving off heat in a very enclosed space and weren't the physics of convection really quite interesting and he wondered if maybe he should follow Stephen's earlier advice and remove some layers of clothing, and then he wondered if maybe Stephen would like to help him with that. Somehow, tracking that train of thoughts around its winding trail to its inevitable conclusion seemed much more important than worrying about why Stephen was kissing him.
Stephen's hand slid along his waist, his fingers gliding up underneath the tails of Connor's shirt to stroke over Connor's vest and, oh, that was really quite interesting, too. Maybe if he asked Stephen very nicely, Stephen wouldn't stop. Ever.
When Stephen rose for air again, Connor didn't quite beg for another kiss. Not quite, although it was a close run thing. Instead, he said, "Um," which quite an intelligent remark under the circumstances, he thought, especially when Stephen was standing so close that Connor could actually feel Stephen's breath on his face. "That... um..." There were words out there somewhere, there had to be. If he could only find them. Words to put into semi-coherent sentences like 'I thought I was straight' and 'I like Abby and you're not Abby' and 'I thought you liked girls' and 'maybe you'd like to help me road test that straight theory?' Okay, strike that one because he'd had vague thoughts of not begging, but maybe he should reconsider his stance on that because Stephen's fingers had found skin now and were stroking small circles, just above the waistband of Connor's trousers. Who knew that just a simple touch like that would feel that good? It was certainly new to Connor, and he swallowed down a sound that sounded suspiciously like it might have come out as a moan.
"Hmmm." Stephen pressed closer to Connor like an affection starved cat. Connor swallowed - Stephen really was a lot taller than Connor when they were up this close. It was weird how Connor didn't mind that, especially not when Stephen lowered his head, his nose nudging at Connor's neck until Connor really had to tilt his head back, shivering slightly as Stephen's breath brushed over his skin. It was only polite when someone did... whatever Stephen was doing. Right? "You smell nice."
Stephen's mouth was right next to Connor's skin, his lips brushing over the surface as he formed the words, Connor feeling them as much as hearing them. Stephen's voice rumbling through his body triggered a whole Pavlovian shivering thing he seemed to be developing in response to Stephen and proximity and Stephen being proximal and, oh.
Stephen licked him, rough tongue sliding over his skin.
That.... That should not have felt anywhere near as good as it had.
"Taste nice, too," Stephen murmured, his mouth tracing up over Connor's chin, still barely brushing the surface but making Connor shiver anyway, feverish chills shaking his body as his fingers spasmed involuntarily against Stephen's broad shoulders. "I wonder if you taste that nice everywhere?"
His mouth hovered over Connor's for a long moment, Stephen's blue eyes meeting and holding his. And then Stephen pulled back again, a devilish grin forming on his face as his fingers - still stroking over Connor's skin - paused for a moment before they flattened possessively against Connor's waist. Then Stephen was sinking to his knees and... oh... my... God.
And that was how Connor lost his virginity. Well, for the first time, anyway.
-o-
He should have felt guiltier about it, given how he felt about Abby and given how Abby seemed to have started feeling about him, but the rush of endorphins kept him grinning for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening. Even the prickly heat seemed to have faded, but that might have been to do with Stephen helping him with that overheating thing by removing as many items of Connor's clothing as they felt they could get away with in a semi-public space. Any brief spurt of guilt he did feel whenever his eyes caught Abby's didn't linger once she turned away. It should have done, it really should have, but Abby kept smiling at him, her eyes lighting up, and with that sight in front of him, how could he feel anything but good?
And him and Stephen... It had been fucking fabulous - and there was a pun in there somewhere - but it wasn't like they were going to make a habit of it, was it? It was difficult not to feel some regret at that, especially remembering how Stephen had done that thing with his tongue, and then that other thing with his fingers, and... wow. Still tingling. In fact, the memories kept him coasting on a high until well into the evening, long after he and Abby had made their way back to the flat.
As usual, it was his turn to cook, which was actually something he didn't mind much because Abby was one of those exceptionally rare people who managed to burn water. He wouldn't have thought it possible until he'd seen it with his own eyes and he really needed to learn to think before he spoke because it had taken a week afterwards for the bruise on his arm to fade.
Stephen had left bruises, too. Small ones, on his hips, right where Stephen's thumbs had rested when he... The memories were still enough to make him smile, and he whistled as he moved around the kitchen, Abby's eyes following him. She was perched on the stool by the counter and, when he glanced over at her, she was smiling, too, a small, secretive smile like she knew something he didn't.
She couldn't know, could she? The thought made him miss a step as he stared at her, his face probably giving away a hell of a lot more than he intended. He swallowed down the guilt that was now - finally and too late - starting to bubble to the surface, and Abby's smile deepened.
"Your pot's starting to boil," she purred, lips turning up in a way that ought to be illegal. She was wearing lipstick - he was sure she hadn't been wearing lipstick at work, at least not that shade, a deep, vibrant pink that made him think thoughts that were probably just as illegal.
"What?"
"Pot, Connor," she breathed, rising like a cat from her stool and padding over towards him. He stared at her, wooden spoon drooping from fingers that suddenly didn't know how to grip. His knees weren't that steady, either, especially not when she leant past him, close enough for her body to brush up against his as she switched off the stove. "There," she said, pulling back to stare up at him with eyes that were just thin rings of blue around dark, deep and dangerous pupils. "Hmm... Something smells good."
He swallowed down. "Must be the pasta sauce," he said, and she leant in closer, the heat of her body and the scent of her perfume surrounding him.
Wait. Perfume?
"Abby..."
"No," and there was no mistaking the purr in her voice this time. Her fingers moved, coming to rest on his chest, right over his heart, and his pulse leapt. It wasn't the only thing that was leaping to attention. "It's not the pasta sauce." She leant in closer still, her face a hairsbreadth from his, the soft exhalation breath brushing against the sensitive skin next to his ear. "It's you."
She placed a soft kiss there and the spoon finally gave up the ghost and clattered to the floor, his knees sagging as they, too, succumbed to gravity. Or maybe just to Abby's pull. "I... I thought you were hungry?" he said weakly, and she smiled, her lips curving against his skin.
"I am," she murmured. She pulled back until she could look straight into his face, staring at him with a kind of intense look that he'd not seen before. Not just hungry, but like she was starving and he was an all you can eat buffet.
He swallowed nervously again. "Abby...?"
"Shut up, Connor," she said, and then her mouth settled on his, hot and wet and needy, none of Abby's usual second thoughts in it. Nothing in it but hunger. "It's dinner time."
And that was how Connor lost his virginity for the second time.
He was never looking at spatulas the same way again.
-o-
Thursday morning dawned bright and early, far earlier than Connor was used to but apparently Abby was just as talented with her mouth as Stephen had been. So much better than an alarm clock, and white lights flared across the inside of his tightly closed eyelids as he spilled into Abby's mouth, his fingers scrabbling desperately at his pillow.
"Hey," she said, pulling back from his still twitching cock. She licked at her lips and the sight alone was enough for his treacherous cock to start showing interest again. She was going to kill him but at least he was going to die bloody happy. She moved up his body, her fingers sliding over the sensitive skin at the head of his cock, making him squirm as she gripped him lightly, slowly moving the foreskin up and down until he started to harden again under her touch. "Hmmm," she murmured and leant in to kiss him, sloppy and open mouthed.
He could taste himself on her tongue, in the contours of her mouth, bitter and salty, and he pulled her closer, his dick jerking in her hand. God, maybe this was what Stephen tasted like. Maybe one day he'd get to taste Stephen, maybe even on Abby's tongue.
The thought was filthy enough to have him moaning, clutching at Abby with desperate fingers as her grip tightened, now sliding the full length of his cock through her fist.
"I want you," she said, pulling back and staring down at him with eyes that were dark with need. "Now."
She moved to straddle him, using her fingers to guide him into her. They were still wet from his come; he could feel it when she steadied herself with her hand on the flat of his belly as she lowered herself onto him.
God, she was beautiful. No wonder he was getting hard again so quickly when he had this to look forward to. Her head was thrown back, the cords of her neck standing out in sharp relief. Her breasts were small and perfect, the nipples already hard when he brushed his thumbs over them, feeling her rock into his touch. He came back, twisting one of them gently between his finger and thumb the way she'd shown him she liked it last night, and she let out a sharp little cry, her head falling forward until she was staring down at him.
Her eyes were still wide, wild and a little lost as she sank down on him again, a perfect, tight, wet heat. "Make me come, Connor. Please."
He caught hold of her hips, pulling her down against him as he pushed up, sliding into her as deeply as he could and she let out another one of those sharp, perfect little sounds, her mouth a little lost moue. Again and her fingers curled against his stomach, fingernails digging in with prickly little pains that did nothing to take the edge off the need to come in her again. "Connor," she sighed, and he pulled her down again, faster this time, harder and harder until the blood rushing in his ears drowned out even the sound of their flesh meeting and the high, shrill sounds of Abby's pleasure.
She slumped against him when he finally came in her, her breath hot, wet pants against his skin. "Oh, that was..."
"Yeah," he said, and she pushed herself off him, his cock sliding free of her as she sank down onto the bed next to him.
She rolled over onto her side and simply watched him, that secretive little smile still adorning her face, until he turned his head to look at her. Then her smile turned wicked, and she leant in to steal another kiss, her tongue sliding past his lips, running over his teeth. He could still taste himself in her mouth and his fingers reached up, cupping her breast. "Hmmm," she said again, pulling back far enough for his fingers to slip from her skin. She replaced them with her own, running her hands over her breasts, fingers circling her nipples. Her smile was still wicked and she waited until she had his full attention before her hands drifted southwards, down over the soft, luxurious curve of her belly to the lushness between her thighs.
She closed her eyes when she pushed her fingers into herself, her lips parting with a contented sigh, and she was seriously going to kill him if she kept this up. He couldn't tear his eyes away, though, pushing himself up onto his elbow so he could watch as she slid her fingers out again, glistening with her come and his. He licked his lips, wondering what she would taste like - what he would taste like mixed with her - if he went down on her right now. He hadn't done that yet and, God, now he wanted to.
She pushed her fingers back in with a moan and he swallowed, reaching out to stroke his fingers lightly over her skin. She opened her eyes again, sliding her fingers from her body with a soft, satisfied smile. And then she wrapped them around his cock, her fingers hot and slick and tight and wet.
"Ready for round four?"
-o-
He made it in to Cutter's office eventually, although his knees still didn't want to work quite right. But it didn't matter - the world was passing by in a delightful haze. If he closed his eyes he could still picture Abby's face, slack with pleasure when she came. And when he opened them again, she might even be there, passing on her way to somewhere or another on the University campus with one of those smiles again, the ones she seemed to have just for him.
It was easy to get distracted by the sight and the scent of her, the way her body moved as she stalked past, all fluid lines now, her hips rolling rather than the kind of brisk movement he normally associated with her. And those hips and that bum... He'd left bruises on both this morning, not intentionally, but the same kind of bruises that Stephen had left on his hips - small, thumb shaped ones that said, clearly as anything, 'Connor was here'.
"Connor." Cutter's voice dragged him back to the present, sharp and brisk with irritation. He murmured an apology, drifting back over to Cutter's desk and turning his attention back to the photographs spread across it. The pictures were blurry, too blurry for Connor to be able to tell what they were with any certainty. What he was sure was that they couldn't be of the lorry that was the official explanation for knocking over the CCTV in Tesco's car park. If he squinted, he could possibly make out something big, maybe even reptilian, but whatever it was it seemed to be a little camera shy. Connor offered his observations a little sheepishly, biting his lip before adding some vague and half-hearted comments about government conspiracies. It was hard to get enthusiastic about them now, even on the best of days. Not when you were part of one and especially not when there were so much better things to get enthusiastic about.
"Sorry, Professor," he added, when Cutter simply looked at him, the exasperation clear on his face. "I think Lester's wrong, but that's about as far as I can go."
Cutter's face softened. "Never mind," he said, laying one big hand on the back of Connor's neck in a way that was almost affectionate and giving him a little shake. "Maybe we can send Stephen out to the site, have a good look around and see if there's anything else there."
"Where is Stephen?" Connor asked idly, scratching at his wrist again.
Cutter shrugged. "Around," was all he had to say as he stared down at the photographs, his eyes tracking over the dark, blurry images. "I think he and Abby might be working on something." Normally that would have made Connor just a little bit envious, maybe even jealous, but not today. Today was just awesome.
Cutter's hand was still resting on the back of his neck and that was kind of awesome, too. Cutter wasn't one to show affection, not normally, so Connor figured he could be forgiven for basking in it for a moment. Certainly, he might have leant in to Cutter's touch, just a little bit.
"Anyway," said Cutter, seeming to give himself a little mental shake. "Can't be helped." His fingers tightened for a second, just fractionally, but it felt like a caress. "We'll figure it out or we won't." Then Cutter's voice trailed off and he turned his head towards Connor. There was a small frown on his face, but it wasn't an annoyed or irritated one - Connor recognised those by now. He wasn't quite sure what the underlying emotion was, and he simply looked at Cutter until Cutter leant in closer. "You... smell good."
Connor blinked.
"Hey." The sound of Stephen's voice drifted in from the doorway and Cutter's fingers twitched against his neck before they let go, Cutter taking a step back. The frown on his face still wasn't annoyed but there was an air of puzzlement about it now. Maybe that was what Connor had seen before. "You busy, Connor?"
Connor blinked again, looking slowly between Cutter and Stephen. "No...?"
"Do you need him?" Stephen asked, turning his attention back to Cutter, and maybe Connor was imagining it but there seemed to be a slight edge to his voice. Cutter shook his head slightly, but it didn't seem to be for Stephen's benefit. It was almost as though he were clearing his head, shaking away the cobwebs after a long night. And then he looked up at Stephen, that small frown still gracing his face.
"No. No, I don't." Cutter's voice wasn't certain as he glanced back at Connor but Stephen nodded anyway.
"Okay. Can you give me a hand with something, Connor?"
"Sure." He could think of several somethings, actually. "Catch you later, yeah, Professor?" Cutter blinked at him again, his expression segueing from puzzled to outright confused as Connor started to move towards Stephen. That - the strangeness of that - stopped Connor in his tracks, hesitating in the doorway as he looked back. "You okay?"
Cutter blinked again and then his face cleared. "I'm fine, Connor. Just... tired, I think." He gave Connor a vague smile, one that barely lifted the corners of his mouth but was no less genuine for it. "You and Stephen have fun with whatever you're up to. I'll keep working on these, okay?"
"Sure." Appeased, Connor smiled back at the man and then let Stephen guide him through the doorway, Stephen's hand settling in the small of his back as though it belonged there.
"What did you want me to do?" he asked Stephen as soon as they were out of earshot. Stephen simply looked at him, his fingers still resting against Connor's back, just enough of a touch to remind Connor of Stephen's presence, as though the proximity of the man wouldn't do it for him. He had to resist the urge to lean into Stephen, too, not out here, in the corridor where anyone - including Abby - could come across them.
Not that there was anything wrong with what they were doing. Right?
"In here," Stephen said, jerking his head towards a door on their right. Connor nodded obligingly, wondering if this was Stephen's office, if Stephen even had an office. It was close enough to Cutter's, he supposed, but did lab techs and right hand men even get offices? That was part of the whole academic office politics thing that sailed straight over Connor's head.
It wasn't an office - it was another store room, this time holding a few mops and buckets, and lots and lots of toilet rolls, the cheap kind that was the only kind the Uni seemed willing to spring for, if the state of the Student Union loos was any indication.
"Oh," said Connor, all he managed to get out before even that sound was muffled by Stephen's lips settling over his. Stephen's fingers were in his hair, moving slowly over his scalp in a way that made Connor go weak at the knees. "Oh," he said again when Stephen finally released him, his hands moving down to Connor's hips, pulling Connor tightly against him so that Connor could feel how hard Stephen was. Hard for him.
Stephen started to drop to his knees, at least until Connor stopped him, grabbing at his arms and pulling him closer for another kiss. Somehow - and he'd never quite work out how - he managed to get Stephen turned around so that it was Stephen's back against the wall. "Wait," he said, pulling his mouth away from Stephen for long enough to get the word out. Stephen followed him, capturing his mouth again, his tongue sliding in and meeting Connor's.
Connor went weak at the knees again, which made it easier to sink to the floor, his fingers fumbling with the fastenings of Stephen's jeans. It took longer than it should, the buttons not cooperating at all, although maybe that was Connor's nervous fingers, but eventually he managed to ease Stephen's erection out into the air, where it bobbed in time to Connor's rough and clumsy strokes.
It was beautiful like Stephen was beautiful: long, slim, and powerful. Connor took a deep breath and leant in, sliding his tongue over the glans, teasing at the slit in the end, where the taste was bitter, not quite like the taste of his own come on Abby's tongue.
Stephen groaned and, when Connor looked up, Stephen's head was thrown back, the column of his neck tensed like it was carved out of marble, and Connor wanted to rise up, trace his tongue along the length of it, maybe even sink his teeth into it, just hard enough to make Stephen's hips jerk against his. But Stephen's dick was a bigger draw, heavy in the palm of his hand as he stroked his hand along the underneath of it, root to tip.
He leant in again, opening his mouth to suck the very end of it in, closing his lips around it and feeling the weight of it - and the bitter taste of it - on his tongue. Stephen's hand settled in his hair again, Stephen's fingers curling against his scalp, and he swallowed, hearing Stephen groan above him again. The sound of it went to Connor's dick, and he pressed his free hand down on his crotch, the tension building in the pit of his stomach.
He could do this. It was just another first, that was all; Stephen's fingers curled around the back of his head as his dick slid deeper into Connor's mouth, sliding home.
-o-
Abby was waiting for him when he finally stepped out of the University building, blinking blearily in the late afternoon light. She was sitting on a bollard, her feet pressed against the concrete, with her face tilted up towards the sun. She was still beautiful as she had been this morning and he still wanted her.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered over, enjoying the slow burn of desire in his chest and the way it settled heavily in the pit of his stomach. "Hey," he said, stroking his fingers down Abby's back, and she opened her eyes slowly, turning her head to smile at him, as brilliant and blinding as the sun.
"Hey," she said. "Ready to go home?"
He scratched at his chest thoughtfully before he shoved his hand back into his pocket, just so he wouldn't slide it through the delicate, pale strands of her hair, which were gleaming in the late afternoon light, and pull her to him. It could wait until they got home. "Yeah."
She let him through the door, at least, before she pounced, arms winding around his neck as she pressed against him, pressing frantic kisses across his face, down over his neck. Her strong, small hand worked its way into his jeans, sliding under the fabric of his boxers to grasp his cock, which was already half hard and waiting for her. It hardened even more under her touch and he slid one hand underneath her t-shirt, pushing up her bra until he could stroke his fingers over her nipple, feeling it pebble as his thumb circled it.
"I want you," she gasped into his mouth, pulling his head down as she sucked on his bottom lip. Her hand slid along his length and she laughed when he gasped, shaking and caught on the cusp of a moan. "Now."
He was happy to oblige, his hands already pushing her t-shirt off over her head and battling with the fastenings of her jeans. It wasn't as easy as it should have been - her hands kept getting in the way as she tried to get his trousers undone and eventually he just let go of her and let her have a clear run at it. She didn't even let him pull them all the way off - just pushed them down over his hips far enough to free his dick and then wriggled out of hers, kicking them onto the floor like she didn't normally nag him mercilessly for leaving his clothes lying around. Her bra soon followed, and he reached out again to cup one perfect breast. "Now," she said again, and her voice was tight and desperate, going straight to his dick. "Now, Connor."
Her hands were needy as they caught hold of him, fingers as tight as her voice and her mouth greedy and demanding as it settled over his. "Want you in me," she said, the words breathed into him. Yes. God, yes.
The bed was too far, but the sofa wasn't. He'd fucked her there yesterday, sinking into her body as she sank into the cushions, but this time he bent her over the arm, sliding into her from behind. She groaned and pushed back against him, her fingers scrabbling frantically against the cushions, looking for leverage as each thrust into her pushed her forward, her hips slamming back against his.
He leant back and braced himself, looking down. Jesus. He could watch himself, watch his dick sliding in and out of Abby, and it was hotter than anything. Abby pushed back against him, making these frantic little mewling noises, and he lost the rhythm, slamming into her with no finesse; she shook and moaned, finally bracing herself firmly against the arm of the sofa so that she could push back against him and he slid as deeply into her as possible.
She came apart with a small cry, her body convulsing around his, and it dragged him down with her. He slumped, still buried in her beautiful, wonderful body, and pressed his forehead between her sweaty shoulder blades.
"Connor," she sighed, reaching back with one hand to slide it along his skin, stroking wherever she could reach. And then she pushed herself up on shaky arms, patting at him awkwardly until he got the hint and shifted his weight off her, letting her roll over onto her back.
He stared down at her; her face was flushed bright red, sweaty strands of hair clinging to her forehead. She pushed herself up again, this time until she was sitting on the arm of the chair, and reached for him, pulling him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist until her calves pressed against his jeans. He kissed her, slow and deep. "Again, Connor," she murmured against his mouth, fingers curling against his skin, sliding down his back to clutch at his waist. Her strong legs flexed against him, drawing him in until he slid back into her. "Again."
There was no doubt about it. He was a sex god.
-o-
( Connor Temple, Sex God - Part Two of Two )