I think he's humming 'Jerusalem'...
Right, here’s more Connor/Ryan smut. Be warned - if any plot bunnies are let loose in my fic-table patch as a result of this one I shall be forced to get Mr McGregor on their ass!
I have other porn I should be writing you know…
Title: To Boldly Blow…
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing/Characters: Connor/Ryan
Rating: NC17
Summary: Connor uses his mouth for something other than babbling…
Word Count: 1,049
Disclaimer: Not mine, but as Connor seems to have set up camp in my brain I’m thinking of charging him rent.
Notes: This plot bunny was sic’d on me by fredbasset during comments on my last outing with the boys so, despite deinonychus-1 trying to sideline me into Sheep!porn (and we may have to pull an intervention on you regarding that sweetie), here it is.
I exhibit no shame for the title btw *does tiny evil dance*
The throat spray idea came from a dentist website that was linked to the wikipedia article on gag reflexes. Yes, I did research for this! Connor would be proud…
Connor thought it might not be the most normal thing in the world to be thanking god for, but really - a couple of squirts of the Vick’s throat spray had worked wonders and since he was down on his knees anyway he thought he’d show a little gratitude.
Though perhaps neither god nor the throat spray people would be very pleased with the use he was putting the product to. Vick’s because he bet it hadn’t been tested for these parameters and god because, well - sucking another man’s dick here.
He hadn’t had a particularly religious upbringing but he rather thought god frowned on that sort of thing.
But that made Connor think that the whole 'total omniscience' thing was a complete crock because if god actually knew what this was like he wouldn't be able to frown on it because everything about this was just absolutely brilliant.
The way Ryan was making those deep groaning noises above him, like he was in some exquisite pain, the way his thighs were trembling very slightly. The slightly astonished look he’d had when Connor pulled him off the path by the (possibly Tylosaurus infested) lake and ducked them both under the cover of a weeping willow and how quickly that look had switched to a lust-filled one when Connor had dropped to his knees.
The way he’d already been hard when Connor had pulled open his combats, and how soft that velvet skin was under Connor’s lips as he nipped his way along the length. The spicy, musky smell of him and that first salt-astringent taste of him when Connor tongued away pre-come.
The way his hands had grasped and scrabbled on the tree bark he was leaning against and the way his eyes had widened and he’d keened when Connor had looked up just as he opened his throat and took Ryan down to the root. And ok, he couldn’t manage it for very long and his eyes were watering a bit and he had to remind himself to ‘breathe through the nose’ but really, given Ryan’s dimensions, Connor felt he should be given a medal for managing this. Something for extreme bravery perhaps, or heroic attempt to circular-breathe.
But Ryan obviously didn’t mind that Connor had to suck him shallower sometimes, and he definitely didn’t mind the humming that was another ward against gagging, and his hips were pumping in small thrusts and that and the noises he was making and the taste and the smell and the idea of ohgodwhattheymustlooklike all combined and were so exciting that he was having to remind himself to breathe full-stop, never mind breathe through his nose and when Ryan stiffened and shook and was abruptly spurting thick, bitter-salt fluid down his throat as he shouted
“CONNOR!!”
Connor came without putting a hand on himself.
**
Ryan’s voice was hoarse and raspy when he spoke, as if he was the one who had just had the back of his throat battered by someone else’s dick (and wasn’t that an intriguing mental image and one which he must put aside for further consideration and possible instigation later on)
“So what exactly was the spray about? I’d have thought breath-freshener would be an ‘afterwards’ kind of thing”
“It’s not breath-freshener - it’s an antiseptic throat spray. I read that it was useful in helping suppress the gag reflex”
Connor looks up at him but he can’t quite read the expression on Ryan’s face and the other man’s tone is rather flat as he repeats
“Suppressing the gag reflex”
His own personal encyclopedic-verbal diarrhea kicked in
“Yes, I’ve had problems before - at dentists and stuff - and I thought I should do some research because I didn’t want to end up, you know, choking or anything because sick’s not very sexy is it? So, yeah, this site recommended the spray and I bought some to keep in my bag just in case and when I practiced with it it did seem to work - and actually, according to another site some people do get turned on by sick and did you know? Sheep haven’t even got a gag reflex?”
Really, Connor despairs of himself sometimes. Some little avatar in his brain is watching this breathless ramble in horror and begins mentally head-butting a tree before he’s even finished.
I mean, For Fuck’s Sake! There he is, still on his bloody knees in front of a bloke he’s just given what sounded like a very satisfying orgasm to and he’s babbling about vomit and sheep’s gag reflexes!?! It’s like his mouth and brain are conspiring to ensure he never gets laid again!!
Just shoot him now.
(Or rather, since he’s in front of a man who actually has a gun and the training to use it, don’t. Because even if Ryan wants no more to do with Connor - and he wouldn’t really blame him - there’s always his right hand and ‘Seven of Nine’ pictures on the net.)
But Ryan doesn’t seem to mind the geek-savant ramblings, because he’s suddenly dragging Connor up by his jacket lapels and muffling his surprised squeak with hot, hungry lips.
Connor’s a bit dazed when Ryan releases his mouth again, and luckily the soldier doesn’t release his hold on the jacket because Connor’s knees are feeling a bit swoony at the moment. He can see the other man’s pupils are wide and a bit wild and his voice is, if anything, throatier than before when he says
"Bloody hell, Temple! You researched and practiced how to deep-throat me, and you've been carrying that spray around in your bag, JUST IN CASE?!"
And Connor doesn’t really get a chance to answer because Ryan’s spun him round to slam him back against the tree and is attacking his mouth again, and then his neck, and hands are undoing his trousers to stroke his suddenly very-interested-again-already cock and you really can’t expect articulate speaking or indeed thinking when that’s going on and, ooo yesyespleaseyes -
Ryan’s fingers are digging into his hips and the Captain’s sinking down in front of Connor and as hot breath blows over the head of his dick and a rough tongue gives a long sweep to the underside his last lucid thought is
(the boy-scouts are right - being prepared is a very good thing)