Fanfic: Keep Your Shirt On!

Mar 18, 2012 16:20



Title: Keep Your Shirt On!
Author: Athene
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing/characters: Ryan, Stephen, Cutter
Rating: 12
Warnings: Implied smut, but no *actual* smut happens!
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 635
Summary: The duty managers are up to something again in Sanctuary
AN: A Sanctuary fic. Sanctuary was created by mysteriousaliwz. Written as a result of a discussion in today’s Denial Sunday chat about favourite (or least favourite) body parts. Thanks to everyone who took part in said discussion. I’ve tried to include as many body related fetishes (or anti-fetishes) as I could!



“Ryan, have you seen my shirts?”

Ryan popped his head round the bedroom door and saw Stephen half dressed, but entirely shirtless, and looking slightly confused.

“I was wondering the same thing about mine. They’ve all vanished. And all my trousers have suddenly gone really tight, especially round the arse.”

Stephen nodded. “Mine too. Either that, or they’re practically falling off my hips.”

Ryan paused a moment and then said speculatively, “Management?”

“Yes?”

“Is there a reason why all our shirts have disappeared?”

“Um... yes?”

Ryan rolled his eyes, and caught Stephen doing the same thing. Now it all made sense. For a Sanctuary definition of sense.

“Should I assume you’d like us to be shirtless for the day?”

“If you wouldn’t mind, please.” The duty manager sounded quite hopeful. “We’ve turned the thermostat up so you don’t get cold.”

Ryan gave Stephen an amused glance. To be fair, it wasn’t the oddest thing that management had ever asked them to do.

Cutter suddenly appeared at Ryan’s side.

“I’ve still got all my shirts, if you’d like to borrow one.”

Okay, now things were getting odd.

“And I found this note pinned up in the corridor by the front door.”

Ryan took the note and Stephen wandered across to read it over his shoulder.

“‘If Connor visits he should take his shirt off, as long as he doesn’t raise his arms above his head.’ What?”

There was no response from the duty manager.

“‘If Becker visits he should take his shirt off and be sent to the showers with shampoo, conditioner, and a hair dryer, and make sure George is thoroughly groomed.’” Stephen’s voice was becoming ever more incredulous as he read out loud. “I know the man is a bit fussy about his hair, but that’s ridiculous!”

Ryan frowned slightly.

“Who the hell is Geor- you know what? Never mind.”

“‘If possible, Becker should also be encouraged to wander around barefoot and wearing just his jeans and looking damp.’” Stephen continued to read aloud. He aimed his gaze skywards. “Why aren’t the rest of us ‘encouraged’ to walk around damp and half naked? That’s blatant favouritism!”

“We certainly wouldn’t object if you wanted to...” the duty manager mumbled, sounding shifty.

Cutter was frowning as well, but for a different reason, it turned out.

“Well, on the subject of favouritism, I’m not sure whether I should feel pleased or insulted that everyone else has to be shirtless except me.”

Stephen patted his shoulder. “I like your chest.”

“I think the duty manager who’s coming in later likes his chest as well,” the duty manager said, with a vaguely placatory tone of voice this time. “Especially the pudgy bits and freckles.”

Cutter spluttered something while Ryan and Stephen laughed, and Stephen patted his shoulder again.

“Never mind. Sounds like your clothes will be disappearing later as well, then.”

Cutter wandered off towards the kitchen, mumbling particularly Scottish sounding curses under this breath.

“So, what now?” Stephen said, his eyes roaming appreciatively up and down Ryan’s chest.

“Well, they’ve obviously got something planned, so in the meantime we could just keep them occupied with business as usual...”

There was the sound of the duty manger clearing her throat.

“What?” Ryan asked, trying not to sound too impatient.

“Business as usual is great, as long as there’s no...” There was the sound of paper rustling, “... toe sucking, armpit licking, or ear licking. Except until the shift change at five. Ear licking is fine after that.”

Ryan shared a look with Stephen that conveyed just how bemused they both were with this latest development.

“So, straightforward cocks up arses, then?” Stephen suggested, his eyebrows raised speculatively.

Ryan grinned. “Sounds good to me. Best be quick as well, before one of them develops another weird fetish.”

fanfic, stephen hart, slash implied, stephen/ryan, tom ryan, nick cutter

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