Fic: "Sole Mates", 18, Becker/Danny, prompt 'Feet'
Title: "Sole Mates"
Author: mysteriousaliwz
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Danny/Becker
Rating: 18
Author Notes: Prodded into writing this after a ridiculously long hiatus, as part of the Denialists meetup this weekend. Prompt was 'Becker/Danny, Feet'. Apologies for the rusty writing and horrendous title. Beta by telperion_15 (thanks m'dear!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Danny set his helmet on the shelf and hung up his leather jacket on the hook in the hallway. He bent to reach for the zips on his boots, but let out a startled noise when he felt a hand caress his denim-covered arse.
“Jesus, Hils, you could warn a bloke!” he exclaimed.
“Mmm, been out on the bike again?” purred Becker against the back of Danny’s neck, and slid his hands around Danny’s hips. “And that means ...” he nibbled at an earlobe, “the biker boots.”
“You really are a kinky bastard when it comes to those boots, aren’t you?”
“Can I help it if I have a thing for leather?” Becker asked, dropping to his knees and running his palms down the inside seam on Danny’s jeans, prompting a shuddering intake of breath.
“You always seem keen enough to take them off.”
“Well, I could let you leave them on. Of course then we’d just have to push your jeans down to your knees ...” he murmured, “and then I’d have to fuck you over the back of the sofa.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Not today though. Today, I want to get at those feet,” he said, tracing round the tops of the boots with his fingers and smoothing his hands down over the toecaps.
Danny grinned and reached back to ruffle through Becker’s hair.
“Through to the bedroom, Quinn.”
“Yes, sir!” replied Danny, dashing off a sloppy salute and sauntering along the hallway, unbuttoning his shirt.
By the time he had perched on the end of the bed and was peeling off his t-shirt, Becker had entered the room bearing a bowl of water and a washcloth, and knelt in front of Danny.
Danny fixed him with a heavy-lidded gaze, slowly planted the sole of one boot on Becker’s chest, and pushed gently. Becker clutched at the boot breathlessly and slid down the zip, easing off the boot and the sock, and repeating with the other foot. He wrung out the washcloth. Danny closed his eyes and focused on the feel of the warm, rough, wet towelling against his skin. He let out a moan when his lover’s talented tongue slid between his toes, licking, curling around them.
“Ohhh, yess...” he groaned, revelling in the biting and sucking that was sending spikes of arousal along his nerves. He pressed down on the bulge in his jeans, trying to slow things down a little, but quickly concluded that the attempt was doomed.
“Get up here,” he gasped, reaching down and hauling Becker up on top of him, both of them scrambling at waistbands and zippers, dragging off jeans, reaching blindly for the lube. Becker slicked up Danny’s cock while Danny scissored his fingers in Becker’s hole, then the soldier sank down, impaling himself with a loud moan.
“That’s it, ride me,” breathed Danny. The two men thrust against one another, the sound of flesh against flesh and heated breaths filling the room, building to a crescendo until orgasm shuddered through them both, leaving them sated and limp, sprawling over the bed.
‘“Mmmm ..’” moaned Becker, with a satisfied smile.
“Hils?”
“Mmph?”
“Will you wear the stilettoes for me tomorrow?”
Author: mysteriousaliwz
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Danny/Becker
Rating: 18
Author Notes: Prodded into writing this after a ridiculously long hiatus, as part of the Denialists meetup this weekend. Prompt was 'Becker/Danny, Feet'. Apologies for the rusty writing and horrendous title. Beta by telperion_15 (thanks m'dear!)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Danny set his helmet on the shelf and hung up his leather jacket on the hook in the hallway. He bent to reach for the zips on his boots, but let out a startled noise when he felt a hand caress his denim-covered arse.
“Jesus, Hils, you could warn a bloke!” he exclaimed.
“Mmm, been out on the bike again?” purred Becker against the back of Danny’s neck, and slid his hands around Danny’s hips. “And that means ...” he nibbled at an earlobe, “the biker boots.”
“You really are a kinky bastard when it comes to those boots, aren’t you?”
“Can I help it if I have a thing for leather?” Becker asked, dropping to his knees and running his palms down the inside seam on Danny’s jeans, prompting a shuddering intake of breath.
“You always seem keen enough to take them off.”
“Well, I could let you leave them on. Of course then we’d just have to push your jeans down to your knees ...” he murmured, “and then I’d have to fuck you over the back of the sofa.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“Not today though. Today, I want to get at those feet,” he said, tracing round the tops of the boots with his fingers and smoothing his hands down over the toecaps.
Danny grinned and reached back to ruffle through Becker’s hair.
“Through to the bedroom, Quinn.”
“Yes, sir!” replied Danny, dashing off a sloppy salute and sauntering along the hallway, unbuttoning his shirt.
By the time he had perched on the end of the bed and was peeling off his t-shirt, Becker had entered the room bearing a bowl of water and a washcloth, and knelt in front of Danny.
Danny fixed him with a heavy-lidded gaze, slowly planted the sole of one boot on Becker’s chest, and pushed gently. Becker clutched at the boot breathlessly and slid down the zip, easing off the boot and the sock, and repeating with the other foot. He wrung out the washcloth. Danny closed his eyes and focused on the feel of the warm, rough, wet towelling against his skin. He let out a moan when his lover’s talented tongue slid between his toes, licking, curling around them.
“Ohhh, yess...” he groaned, revelling in the biting and sucking that was sending spikes of arousal along his nerves. He pressed down on the bulge in his jeans, trying to slow things down a little, but quickly concluded that the attempt was doomed.
“Get up here,” he gasped, reaching down and hauling Becker up on top of him, both of them scrambling at waistbands and zippers, dragging off jeans, reaching blindly for the lube. Becker slicked up Danny’s cock while Danny scissored his fingers in Becker’s hole, then the soldier sank down, impaling himself with a loud moan.
“That’s it, ride me,” breathed Danny. The two men thrust against one another, the sound of flesh against flesh and heated breaths filling the room, building to a crescendo until orgasm shuddered through them both, leaving them sated and limp, sprawling over the bed.
‘“Mmmm ..’” moaned Becker, with a satisfied smile.
“Hils?”
“Mmph?”
“Will you wear the stilettoes for me tomorrow?”