Title: Teflon
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Lester/Becker/Connor, Ditzy
Words: 2,542
Rating, Warnings: 18. Some sexual situations and bad pyjamas
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval. No copyright infringment intended. Ditzy stolen from
fredbassettSpoilers: None
AN: This is a slighty late Christmas gift fic for the lovely lovely
fredbassett who asked for the BLT boys and an injured Becker.
AN2: Thanks to
fififolle for the most super speedy beta of all time and being basically lovely.
Lester stretched his arm out as he watched Connor throw the now soiled towel over the edge of the bed, having just cleaned them both up. Connor took the invitation and curled into his embrace. They lay silently together for a moment, their bodies hot against each other, still warm from their recent sex. Lester’s hand idly toyed with Connor’s collar.
“The bed’s big and empty without him,” Connor said softly.
“I know. But he won’t be gone much longer.”
“I know where he is James, and he’ll be away for at least four months. You don’t have to pretend.”
“What?”
“Do you still really think there is anywhere I can’t hack my way into? But it’s okay. I know why neither of you could tell me. I understand.” Connor yawned, his voice becoming more sleepy. “And I know he’ll be fine. He’s Teflon.”
“Teflon?”
“Yeah. He repels heat and nothing sticks to him. All the bad stuff just slides straight off.”
Lester tightened his grip and pulled Connor closer to him, concentrating on the younger man’s breathing to lull him to sleep.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Lester put down the phone and stared at it for a moment. The command and resolve that he had managed to keep up while on the phone was fading fast, but he had to keep it up for a little while longer. He took a deep breath and pressed his intercom.
“Lorraine; have my car brought around by someone and I want to see Connor and Lieutenant Owen in my office now.”
“Certainly, sir.” Lorraine’s calm voice was reassuring against his strained one. His heart hammered inside his chest and he reached into his drawer for his bottle of Scotch and a tumbler. His fingers brushed the cool glass, then he stopped himself, sliding the drawer back shut.
Connor was in his office first, followed smartly by Ditzy.
Lester looked at the medic.
“You know, don’t you, Lieutenant?”
“Sir?”
“Not the time to be playing innocent. Becker and Connor and I; our…arrangement. You know, don’t you?”
“I have an inkling, sir.”
“Right. Then in that case I hope you can understand what I am about to do. Connor, come here.”
Connor gave him an uncertain look, and flashed a glance at Ditzy.
“Connor, please.”
Lester’s tone was off and startled Connor into action. He rushed to his side and knelt at his feet. Lester took Connor’s face in his hands and lifted it up to look at him, staring into his eyes.
“Becker has been injured. They are flying him home now. I have been assured that he will be fine, but they won’t confirm his current condition, only saying that he has facial injuries and a serious thigh wound. He will be off work for some time and will still require medical care. That’s where you come in, Lieutenant.” Lester’s eyes never left Connor’s. “I am lucky enough to have friends in the right places. Becker is stable enough to not require any further hospital in-patient treatment and is going to be brought straight home. Connor and I will be waiting for him, as will you, alongside any supplies he needs for treatment and convalescence at home.”
“I’m a field medic, sir, not a doctor.”
“I have seen your work and the title is little more than a technicality. I trust you.”
“Thank you, sir. I will do everything I can for the Captain.”
Lester finally looked up at Ditzy. “Connor and I are heading home now in my car; get the equipment you need and take a pool car. Lorraine will give you my address and the list of required supplies I've been given.”
“Sir.”
Ditzy left the office and Lester turned his eyes back to Connor.
“Are you okay, Connor?”
“Becker’s going to be okay?”
“I’m sure he will. He’s in good hands.”
Connor nodded. “James,” he said hesitantly. “Are you okay?”
“What do you mean?”
“If Becker’s really going to be fine, you’re not really acting like it. You’re acting like you’re a second away from what passes for panic for you.”
Lester considered Connor for a moment, before pulling in a deep breath.
“I’m scared shitless. You boys give me so much control over you, but when it really matters I have no control whatsoever, and you both get sent out into dangerous situations. This is my worst nightmare come true.”
“But he’s well enough to come home, so he is going to be okay?”
Lester looked down at Connor and stroked his hair.
“For all your rambling you can be annoyingly precise sometimes.” He paused. “Thank you. Thank you for keeping me grounded.”
Connor turned and kissed the palm of Lester’s hand.
“Thank you for worrying about us.”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A short time later Lester had made it home with Connor. Ditzy was already waiting in the car park and together they carried a range of equipment upstairs.
“I’m hoping we won’t need all of this, but I have everything on their list, which I hope was over cautious. I also bought a couple of things from my own ‘list’. But I can assess him when he arrives and see where we go from there,” Ditzy said.
“We appreciate the effort, Lieutenant.”
“Call me Dave or Ditzy, sir, everyone else does.”
“In that case,” Lester said, setting down his load to let them into the flat and following them in, “call me Lester while we are out of the office.”
“Thank you, s…Lester.”
“How long are we going to have to wait?” Connor interrupted as they moved the equipment into the bedroom.
Lester looked at his watch. “Shouldn’t be long. Want to put the kettle on?”
Connor gave him a funny look and Lester and Ditzy started unpacking what the medic thought he would need. Connor had barely got to the kitchen when Lester’s phone rang and he grabbed it out of his pocket.
“Lester. … Yes, we are here. Please bring him straight upstairs. There is a lift in the basement car park if that’s where you are. … See you shortly.” Lester hung up the phone. “Connor,” he called through to the kitchen. “Becker’s here, can you open the front door?”
He heard Connor moving to do as he had instructed and Ditzy was still setting up his equipment. Lester felt something he wasn’t used to feeling - helpless. He stood and waited, hands on hips in the bedroom waiting for Becker to be brought upstairs to him.
Connor followed the medics into the room, two of whom wheeled Becker in a carry chair. Lester set his face into a careful neutral expression and Connor slipped his hand into Lester’s. Ditzy backed them both out of the room before they could get a proper look at him.
“Just step outside for a bit so we can get the captain settled and I can examine him,” he said.
“We’ll stay, thank you,” Lester replied.
“Why do we need to leave?” Connor asked at the same time.
Ditzy looked Lester in the eye, but answered Connor’s question.
“I need to ascertain his condition. Do you really think he’ll be honest about the strength of his pain in front of the two of you?”
“Let’s go and finish getting that coffee on, James. Becks’ll need warming up from Dizty’s hands by the time he's is done.”
Connor tugged on Lester’s hand and Ditzy’s gaze was unwavering. Lester clenched his jaw and let himself be led away. The other medics were thrown out of the bedroom shortly and they retreated quietly out of the flat.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“That idiot general made out like you were half dead and made of porcelain when they spoke to Lester; all the precautions they were making him take,” Ditzy grumbled as he finished his examination.
“General or not, would you want to tell Lester you’d broken one of his soldiers?”
Ditzy gave a laugh. “No, I s’pose not, mate. But he and Connor were pretty worried. Not seen the boss white over anything other than budget reports before.” Ditzy moved around making a lot of noise as he finished packing away his equipment. “Right, I’m going to get a lot of this back to the ARC; you don’t need it, you’re fine. The actual medical notes make sense and I agree with them. You gonna be alright, mate?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Ditz.” Becker gently settled himself back against the pillows he was propped up against.
“Alright,” Ditzy said, heading for the door. “I’m heading out now and I’ll let Lester and Connor back in. I’ll be back tomorrow to change your dressings.”
“Bye. Thank you.”
“And by the way, loving the pyjamas.”
“What?”
But Becker only heard laughing and the bedroom door close. It opened again a moment later.
“Hello, Becker.”
“Hey, Becks.”
Two voices spoke at once and Becker smiled back. He felt the bed dip either side of him.
“God, it’s good to be back,” he said. “I wish I could see you.” Becker held a hand up to the gauze and bandages that covered both eyes.
“You will do soon enough. We made you coffee, Becks,” Connor said, putting a hand on his arm. And then soft lips were pressed to his.
Becker smiled as Connor pulled back.
“Thanks, but ‘fraid it’s got to be tea. It’s a ritual. First night home always has to start with a cup of tea.”
“Okay, I’ll make you some tea.”
Connor went to move, but a voice the other side of Becker stopped him.
“No, Connor. That brown sludge you make may pass as tea in darkest Yorkshire, but what Becker needs is proper Home Counties tea. I’ll be right back.” Another set of lips pressed against his, but with a bit more force, and then they were gone and he felt Lester leave the bed.
“They are some natty PJs, Becks. Where did you get them?”
“What is this fixation with my pyjamas? I don’t know, they just dressed me in them before I was transferred back home. What’s wrong with them?”
“They are brown paisley.”
“What? Get them off me, get them off me, Conn!” Becker realised with an odd detachment that there was more panic in his voice now than at any time since he had been injured. He started tugging blindly at the buttons on the pyjama top.
But Connor just laughed at him and Becker felt hands gently slapping his away.
“Let me, just lie back. And be really glad you can’t see these.”
Becker felt the buttons being undone and then warm hands ran over his chest and stomach. He sighed and relaxed further into the pillows. Then Connor’s mouth gently moved against his skin, kissing and licking. Becker pulled in a deep breath and let himself enjoy just feeling.
He almost whined when the mouth left him, but was silenced by soft words from Connor and hands at his shoulders.
“Sit up.”
Becker did as he was asked with Connor’s help, wincing as he moved. Gentle hands removed the pyjama top and leaned him back against the pillows. Becker again just relaxed into the sensations and breathed out as Connor’s hands wandered across his flesh again.
The warm hands roamed lower and a finger slid under the pyjama waistband.
“Can you hold yourself up? I don’t want to hurt you,” Connor asked.
“Yeah.”
Becker braced his hands on the bed and lifted his hips, wincing again. Connor gently eased the pyjamas down Becker’s legs to his knees. Becker lowered himself again and raised his lower legs so that the pyjamas could be completely removed. He expected Connor to pull the duvet back over him, but he didn’t. Instead Connor’s hands continued to roam. Becker’s cock, which had started taking notice earlier, seemed even more enthused with the new attention.
Connor made his way back up Becker’s body, then Becker felt him lie down next to him, head sharing his pillow. Becker turned to him so their noses were almost touching.
“You’re very close,” he said.
“Yup,” Connor replied.
“What is it?” Becker asked suspiciously.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I know that tone of voice. I can hear your grin.”
“They said you had a thigh wound.”
“I do have a thigh wound.”
“That’s not your thigh, that’s your…”
“Fuck off, Connor.”
“But it is.” Becker could hear Connor’s grin getting bigger.
“Say anything to anyone, Connor and I will make you fucking regret it.”
“How? You can’t move or see.”
“But I will be able to soon and then I will make you pay.”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
Becker scowled at Connor behind his bandages, but the look was kissed off his face. And he let it.
Connor pulled back and shifted on the bed again and Becker momentarily lost track of where he was.
“Honestly, I leave you two alone for two minutes,” Lester’s voice admonished from the doorway, further confusing Becker.
“What…?” he started.
But his question was cut off when his naked cock was suddenly surrounded by a warm wetness.
“Fuck!” Becker exclaimed, raising his hips off the bed again.
A self-satisfied moan that was distinctly Connor’s vibrated over his cock and it started to fill further.
The bed dipped the other side of him and Lester’s mouth was against his, tongue flicking over his lips before dipping inside. Becker released a groan of his own and fully surrendered himself to the two men around him with despicably talented mouths.
Lester’s hands moved across his chest and a nipple was gently played with, hardening under the touch. He brought a hand up to cup Lester’s head and the other searched for Connor’s head, fingers sliding into his hair.
Becker lost himself in the feel of two warm bodies next to him, loving hands and mouths kissing, licking and stroking him; covering his sore and sightless body with pleasure. And it had been so long. Nearly three months away from Lester and Connor. Three months without their love, without their bodies, without their life that suited them all so well. Without touch, without sex, without them, without this.
And his body couldn’t wait. It raced through arousal and towards orgasm. Connor seemed to sense his need, picking up his efforts and soon Becker was coming, holding onto Lester and Connor while they held him together.
Connor licked him clean as he softened and Lester’s kisses became gentler as he came down. His breathing slowed again and his body relaxed, tension draining from him.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“Pleasure,” replied Connor.
“You tea’s going cold,” Lester groused with no real feeling.
Becker laughed and the remaining tension from too long apart fell from him. Lester was still sitting next to him and Connor crawled up against his other side again. They were both close and seemed to be making sure they were touching him so he knew they were there.
“Well, you’re already complaining about things so I assume that you’re no longer worrying about me,” Becker said.
“We were never worried,” Lester retorted gruffly, but he squeezed Becker’s hand just a little bit tighter. “And since when was your arse called your thigh?”
“Oh, don’t you start,” Becker complained.
Yes, he was definitely home. And nothing could touch him here.