Filthy Gorgeous - Primeval Fanfic
Title: Filthy Gorgeous
Author: Clea2011
Word Count: 3079
Characters: Becker/Connor, Danny, Abby
Rating: 18
Spoilers: No
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, I'm just writing for fun and non-profit.
A/N: Thanks to fififolle for a very quick beta-reading.
Summary: Happy birthday for yesterday to deinonychus_1 who asked for the prompt Becker/Connor wet and muddy. Hope you like this! I did ALMOST get it completed in time...
Filthy Gorgeous
It appeared to Connor that Becker was having a particularly bad day.
First of all he'd overslept. He'd blamed Connor for that, not without good reason as Connor had kept him up half the night then rolled over and turned the alarm off in his sleep. He wasn't so much complaining about the former as the latter, but he was complaining nonetheless.
Connor wasn't entirely listening. If he were honest, he wasn't certain he'd actually been asleep when he'd done it. It was what he told Becker, but he was fairly sure he'd been at least half awake. Ah well, he thought, no harm done, not really.
Then there had been an anomaly shout while they were still heading into the ARC. That looked tardy and unprofessional in Becker's eyes, and had made him even more grumpy. The complaints had increased.
The anomaly had consisted of many small creatures running around. And since said creatures were too harmless to shoot, Becker and his men had been forced to run around trying to catch them and put them back through the anomaly. They'd looked silly doing so, the little beasts had dodged them, hooting in alarm, and caused a number of the soldiers to trip over. Becker had got ever more irritable. And then he'd sunk into a particularly boggy part of the muddy field. Connor, following along closely behind him, hadn't noticed in time and ran straight into him. Becker fell face first into the mud. Connor landed on top of him and although he got up very quickly the damage was already done.
It had been raining overnight, and still hadn't really stopped. The anomaly had opened up in a field, and the team running around had started to churn it up quite a lot, as had the creatures. Becker, always immaculate and neat, rarely a hair out of place, was absolutely plastered in mud. It was everywhere, totally covering him from the knees down, all across the front of his uniform, on his face, in his hair...
Connor stared at him, not sure whether to be amused or horrified.
"Shut up!"
Connor managed to look mildly affronted. He hadn't said a word. Okay, so perhaps he'd smirked a little bit. It was difficult not to. And the look on Becker's face as he...dripped. There was no way Connor could stop himself grinning.
"Don't laugh! This was your fault!"
It was hard to argue with that. He pulled out a handkerchief and made a completely futile attempt at helping Becker wipe off some of the mud. It didn't work, just turned the handkerchief the same colour as most of Becker and ended up merely smearing the mud around. It was quite an interesting effect.
"Just leave it, Connor," Becker told him eventually. There was wet mud dripping from his normally perfect hair. Connor stared at it, fascinated, until Becker noticed he was doing so and stomped back towards the trucks. Well, he appeared to be trying to stomp anyway. It wasn't quite working.
Connor walked along behind Becker, trying to block out the squelching noise Becker's boots made every time he took a step. Because if Connor listened to that for too long he'd start laughing, and then Becker would get even more grumpy.
The creatures were almost all back in their own time, the last few being rounded up by a group of soldiers who were all very keen to avoid even looking at their very wet and muddy commanding officer.
Danny had no such trouble.
"Bit muddy, Becker. Aren't there rules and regulations in the army about how you're supposed to look after your uniform? Think that'll stand up to an inspection?"
"You can shut up as well, Quinn. We should've just shot the stupid little things. They'll all end up extinct anyway."
"Actually, those evolve into..." Connor paused, saw Becker's expression, and nodded. "Okay, shutting up." He didn't want to end up extinct too.
They were out in the middle of nowhere, with no chance of a shower or even a change of clothes. The only option was to have Becker sit in the back of the truck (which he didn't enjoy at the best of times) on a seat covered as best they could manage, and for someone else to drive.
Nobody wanted to sit next to Becker. It wasn't just the mud and the way he was slowly creating a little puddle on the floor of the truck. Most of them were at least a little bit wet, and mud was something of an occupational hazard with the way that the weather had been that Spring. No, nobody wanted to sit beside Becker because he felt humiliated and when Becker felt humiliated he tended to cover it up by being grumpy.
"He's your boyfriend," Abby pointed out when Connor tried to take the front seat. "You should take care of him."
"But..."
"Connor's the reason I'm in this mess!" Becker growled.
Danny had already climbed into the driver's seat. Connor heard Becker groan. Becker hated Danny's driving, although Abby's apparently wasn't much better.
Resignedly, Connor got into the back of the truck and sat down beside Becker.
"Soon be back at the ARC!" he announced cheerily.
Becker eyed him miserably. Well, Connor thought he did. It was difficult to tell. Becker had made another attempt to wipe away some of the mud from his face but somehow he'd only succeeded in creating a vaguely camouflaged effect that wasn't really much better.
"Don't patronise me, Connor. I'm not in the mood."
"Okay." Connor sat there thinking about it for a few minutes. He wasn't too worried, Becker was often a bit moody anyway and always could be persuaded out of it. It never meant anything. After a while, Connor had come to realise that Becker actually rather enjoyed being grumpy. And there were other things he enjoyed far more that would always snap him out of it. So Connor let him sulk, leaned forward and talked to Abby and Danny instead.
Even for Becker, it was a pretty good sulk. It lasted all the way back to the ARC. Possibly the fact that Danny couldn't let more than five minutes at a time go past before he made some comment didn't help all that much either:
"Are you sure that was just mud, Becker?"
"There's a really funny smell..."
"You're absolutely positive it's just mud?"
"Mind if I open the window?"
"Can't anyone else smell it?"
"Are you sure..."
"SHUT UP, QUINN!"
Connor saw Danny trying to catch his eye in the rear view mirror, grinning broadly at him. Great. Danny wasn't the one who had to go home with Becker afterwards and listen to all the complaining after Danny had done his work.
Becker got out of the truck the moment it stopped, and stomped off into the ARC without a second glance at any of them.
"Soldier Boy's so easy to wind up," Danny grinned.
"You were mean, you know how proud he is," Abby protested, but she was laughing too.
"Yeah." Danny didn't stop grinning. "Needs to lighten up and stop acting like he's got a stick up his arse all the time."
"Maybe you should go after him, Connor?" Abby suggested more gently, then punched Danny on the arm when he laughed harder at that. "Danny!"
It wasn't a bad idea, Connor thought. There was, after all, no question as to where Becker would have gone... Connor headed off after him.
Becker had, as Connor expected, headed straight for the showers.
There was a faint trail of muddy footprints leading all the way there. The cleaners were going to just love it when they turned up later and found that waiting for them, Connor knew. He intended making sure he had gone home by then. There was one particularly scary woman in whose hands the hoover was pretty much a deadly weapon, and she really didn't like it if there were just biscuit crumbs under Connor's desk. Which, admittedly, there were quite often. He didn't quite understand it, because if the place was spotlessly clean all the time then there would be no point to employing her. Really, he thought, he should be her favourite ARC employee.
The footprints went through several corridors and down a short flight of stairs to the locker rooms. She wasn't going to be happy at all.
The offending boots were lying on the floor, clumps of drying mud surrounding them that Becker must have dislodged when he was struggling to get the wet and filthy things off. His jacket had been discarded on the floor beside them, the mud mixing with the water already on the floor from where someone else had been in there after a shower. That cleaner was going to go ballistic.
Connor heard the shower go on, and quickly unlaced his own boots before pulling his hoodie and t-shirt over his head in one go and dropping them on the bench. The rest of his clothes quickly followed. Grabbing a towel from the pile, he slung it over his shoulder and headed through to the showers.
Becker was standing in the middle of the row of showerheads, two of them switched on and both twisted so that the water was hitting him. He was facing the wall, propping himself up against the wall with his hands, still fully clothed. A steady river of brown water was running away from his feet, swirling down towards the drain.
"Becker?" Connor had to say it twice, getting no reaction the first time. "You okay?"
Becker turned off the right hand shower and looked round at him. "I'm only having a shower, Connor. I can understand how you might find that disturbing but most people like to wash at least once a day."
"Not fully clothed they don't."
Becker gave a little snort of disgust, looking down at the discoloured water still pooling at his feet. "You'd rather that muck clogged our washing machine, would you?"
"It's not that bad."
"I was covered in it! And I'm still not sure you didn't do it deliberately."
Connor grinned. "You did look pretty good, all messed up like that. And now..." he plucked at the sopping black t-shirt Becker was wearing. "That can come off."
Becker gave him a long, appraising look, then shrugged and raised his arms. "Did you lock the door?"
Connor hadn't, but Becker didn't need to know that, and nobody was going to go anywhere near Becker while they thought he was in a bad mood so the two of them were perfectly safe.
He helped Becker out of his shirt, peeling the wet material from his body then pressing his face against the warm skin of Becker's throat. He could feel the other man's pulse rate increase as he did so. The drag of the t-shirt over his head had left Becker's wet hair sticking up at angles. It looked adorable, but Connor wasn't about to tell Becker that because Becker liked to think of himself as tough and manly. He'd probably do something horrible like shave all his hair off if he thought it looked in any way cute. Well, perhaps not go quite that far, because Becker was one of the vainest men Connor had ever met so far as his hair was concerned. Their bathroom cabinet was full of various Bed Head and Shockwaves products and not a lot else. Connor had borrowed some once, thinking Becker would never notice. He soon realised his mistake. Apparently Bed Head was quite an expensive make and he was only supposed to pinch the Shockwaves. Who knew? It all just looked like hair wax to Connor, and as he wasn't enough of a connoisseur to tell them apart he'd been told to go for the cheaper one. He couldn't even see any difference on the day Becker was forced to use the cheaper product because Connor had used the last of his Bed Head. That just proved the point as far as Becker was concerned.
"Why are you staring at my hair?"
"I'm not!" Too quick, and perhaps too high-pitched and guilty-sounding. Becker was reaching up to ruin that spiky effect that made him look just a little bit like one of those manga characters Connor enjoyed so much. He had to act quickly, diving at Becker and shoving him against the shower wall and kissing him hard.
Not that he would have been able to hold Becker there for long if Becker didn't want to be thrown against the shower wall. And judging by the satisfying bulge Connor could feel pressing against him from Becker's crotch, the soldier most definitely did want to be. He stuck his thumb into the waistband of Becker's trousers.
"These... off..." Connor said against his mouth, barely pulling out of the kiss at all.
Becker grinned, and Connor thought he was probably laughing at the attempt at mastery. Still not resisting it though, and Connor wondered how far he could push it. It was working for the moment, Becker fumbled with the fly, one-handed, his other hand holding the back of Connor's head and deepening the kiss.
The wet material wasn't going to give up its prize easily and in the end Connor reluctantly broke away to help Becker out, kneeling on the floor of the shower to peel the clothing off. His lover's eager cock bobbed up as soon as it was freed and from his position it seemed a waste not to lean forward and take it in his mouth, swallowing up to the hilt then rocking back, letting Becker fuck his mouth, loving the taste of him and the low moan that told Connor exactly how much Becker was enjoying it.
"Enough," Becker gasped, pushing Connor back, then pulling him to his feet to kiss him again. Connor made a brief attempt at leading but that was never going to happen once Becker was roused and he could feel his lover reaching down, a gel-slicked finger already teasing at his hole, carefully pushing inside and stretching him. When he added a second one, Connor pushed back against him, fucking himself on Becker's probing fingers, a plaintive, eager little noise slipping from his throat. He knew he sounded needy, but Becker always seemed to know exactly what turned him on and had just got better and better at it over the months they'd been together. Far from tiring of him, which had been what Connor had expected to happen fairly quickly, because he just didn't get that lucky, Becker just made him more his own with every passing day. If Connor ever lost him now, he didn't know how he'd survive it. Fortunately there wasn't any danger of that. After all, who else would put up with Becker and his moods? And more importantly, Connor could always ignore those moods because he knew that Becker loved him. Because just sometimes, when Becker had his guard down and they were lying together, post-coital and blissed out, Becker would tell him so. Becker wasn't the type to admit that unless he meant it. And the admission had taken months.
"Stop thinking," Becker growled. "No thinking." He gave Connor one last, deep snog, then turned him to face the wall, withdrawing his strong, probing fingers as he did so. Connor couldn't help giving a little whine of distress at the loss, then sighed with pleasure as Becker worked him again.
"Just do it," Connor groaned. "Want you inside me... please..." His swollen, aching cock was rock hard although Becker had given it no attention at all yet. Connor reached down to touch himself, but Becker slapped his hand away.
"Leave it. Mine."
Connor whimpered, arching back against Becker's probing fingers again, gasping as they brushed against his prostate and sent a wave of pleasure through him. Sometimes Becker liked to make him come untouched, just from the prostate massage or from fucking him. He could hear Becker working his own cock to full hardness again, his lover's grunts as he did so combined with the probing and stretching fingers almost setting Connor off.
"Becker please... want you... oh god, please, I'm ready, I swear..."
He felt Becker withdraw his fingers, and for a moment he felt bereft, empty. Then there was his lover's cock probing at his entrance, slick with whatever it was Becker was using for lube. Shower gel, probably. Connor gasped at the sensation as Becker pushed inside, then slid deeper.
"Okay?"
Connor nodded. "Don't stop..."
He felt Becker reach round for him, taking hold of his cock and squeezing, then starting to move his hand. At the same time he started to move, thrusting his hips against Connor, slow at first but building up to a relentless pace. Connor groaned as Becker shifted his angle slightly, his cock hitting the prostate with every thrust.
"Do... that... to... me... again... and... you... won't..."
Connor came with a moan of Becker's name, thick ribbons of come shooting up the shower wall, throwing his head back against his lover, the soldier's strong arms the only thing stopping him collapsing in a boneless shuddering heap.
"...sit... down...Oh fuck, Connor!" Becker was punctuating each word with a hard thrust but couldn't quite hold back long enough to continue right to the end of what he was trying to say, coming hard inside Connor with a deep, guttural groan of pleasure.
"...for a week..." He finished his promise in a whisper, pressing his face into Connor's throbbing neck and kissing him, marking him. Connor knew he would have to wear a scarf again for a few days, but he really didn't care.
They sank down onto the floor of the shower together, the steaming water beating down on them, washing away the evidence of their passion. Becker wrapped his arms around Connor and pulled him close. Connor snuggled in, aware without needing to ask that he was totally forgiven. Becker was so easy to sway back into a contented mood, given the right incentive. Now if he could just keep him away from Danny and any reminder comments the ex-policeman might have to make for the rest of the day...
"You did do it on purpose, didn't you?" Becker murmured in his ear.
"No..." Connor really hadn't. But with a result like that, if the opportunity presented itself again then it would be very hard to resist...
Author: Clea2011
Word Count: 3079
Characters: Becker/Connor, Danny, Abby
Rating: 18
Spoilers: No
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, I'm just writing for fun and non-profit.
A/N: Thanks to fififolle for a very quick beta-reading.
Summary: Happy birthday for yesterday to deinonychus_1 who asked for the prompt Becker/Connor wet and muddy. Hope you like this! I did ALMOST get it completed in time...
Filthy Gorgeous
It appeared to Connor that Becker was having a particularly bad day.
First of all he'd overslept. He'd blamed Connor for that, not without good reason as Connor had kept him up half the night then rolled over and turned the alarm off in his sleep. He wasn't so much complaining about the former as the latter, but he was complaining nonetheless.
Connor wasn't entirely listening. If he were honest, he wasn't certain he'd actually been asleep when he'd done it. It was what he told Becker, but he was fairly sure he'd been at least half awake. Ah well, he thought, no harm done, not really.
Then there had been an anomaly shout while they were still heading into the ARC. That looked tardy and unprofessional in Becker's eyes, and had made him even more grumpy. The complaints had increased.
The anomaly had consisted of many small creatures running around. And since said creatures were too harmless to shoot, Becker and his men had been forced to run around trying to catch them and put them back through the anomaly. They'd looked silly doing so, the little beasts had dodged them, hooting in alarm, and caused a number of the soldiers to trip over. Becker had got ever more irritable. And then he'd sunk into a particularly boggy part of the muddy field. Connor, following along closely behind him, hadn't noticed in time and ran straight into him. Becker fell face first into the mud. Connor landed on top of him and although he got up very quickly the damage was already done.
It had been raining overnight, and still hadn't really stopped. The anomaly had opened up in a field, and the team running around had started to churn it up quite a lot, as had the creatures. Becker, always immaculate and neat, rarely a hair out of place, was absolutely plastered in mud. It was everywhere, totally covering him from the knees down, all across the front of his uniform, on his face, in his hair...
Connor stared at him, not sure whether to be amused or horrified.
"Shut up!"
Connor managed to look mildly affronted. He hadn't said a word. Okay, so perhaps he'd smirked a little bit. It was difficult not to. And the look on Becker's face as he...dripped. There was no way Connor could stop himself grinning.
"Don't laugh! This was your fault!"
It was hard to argue with that. He pulled out a handkerchief and made a completely futile attempt at helping Becker wipe off some of the mud. It didn't work, just turned the handkerchief the same colour as most of Becker and ended up merely smearing the mud around. It was quite an interesting effect.
"Just leave it, Connor," Becker told him eventually. There was wet mud dripping from his normally perfect hair. Connor stared at it, fascinated, until Becker noticed he was doing so and stomped back towards the trucks. Well, he appeared to be trying to stomp anyway. It wasn't quite working.
Connor walked along behind Becker, trying to block out the squelching noise Becker's boots made every time he took a step. Because if Connor listened to that for too long he'd start laughing, and then Becker would get even more grumpy.
The creatures were almost all back in their own time, the last few being rounded up by a group of soldiers who were all very keen to avoid even looking at their very wet and muddy commanding officer.
Danny had no such trouble.
"Bit muddy, Becker. Aren't there rules and regulations in the army about how you're supposed to look after your uniform? Think that'll stand up to an inspection?"
"You can shut up as well, Quinn. We should've just shot the stupid little things. They'll all end up extinct anyway."
"Actually, those evolve into..." Connor paused, saw Becker's expression, and nodded. "Okay, shutting up." He didn't want to end up extinct too.
They were out in the middle of nowhere, with no chance of a shower or even a change of clothes. The only option was to have Becker sit in the back of the truck (which he didn't enjoy at the best of times) on a seat covered as best they could manage, and for someone else to drive.
Nobody wanted to sit next to Becker. It wasn't just the mud and the way he was slowly creating a little puddle on the floor of the truck. Most of them were at least a little bit wet, and mud was something of an occupational hazard with the way that the weather had been that Spring. No, nobody wanted to sit beside Becker because he felt humiliated and when Becker felt humiliated he tended to cover it up by being grumpy.
"He's your boyfriend," Abby pointed out when Connor tried to take the front seat. "You should take care of him."
"But..."
"Connor's the reason I'm in this mess!" Becker growled.
Danny had already climbed into the driver's seat. Connor heard Becker groan. Becker hated Danny's driving, although Abby's apparently wasn't much better.
Resignedly, Connor got into the back of the truck and sat down beside Becker.
"Soon be back at the ARC!" he announced cheerily.
Becker eyed him miserably. Well, Connor thought he did. It was difficult to tell. Becker had made another attempt to wipe away some of the mud from his face but somehow he'd only succeeded in creating a vaguely camouflaged effect that wasn't really much better.
"Don't patronise me, Connor. I'm not in the mood."
"Okay." Connor sat there thinking about it for a few minutes. He wasn't too worried, Becker was often a bit moody anyway and always could be persuaded out of it. It never meant anything. After a while, Connor had come to realise that Becker actually rather enjoyed being grumpy. And there were other things he enjoyed far more that would always snap him out of it. So Connor let him sulk, leaned forward and talked to Abby and Danny instead.
Even for Becker, it was a pretty good sulk. It lasted all the way back to the ARC. Possibly the fact that Danny couldn't let more than five minutes at a time go past before he made some comment didn't help all that much either:
"Are you sure that was just mud, Becker?"
"There's a really funny smell..."
"You're absolutely positive it's just mud?"
"Mind if I open the window?"
"Can't anyone else smell it?"
"Are you sure..."
"SHUT UP, QUINN!"
Connor saw Danny trying to catch his eye in the rear view mirror, grinning broadly at him. Great. Danny wasn't the one who had to go home with Becker afterwards and listen to all the complaining after Danny had done his work.
Becker got out of the truck the moment it stopped, and stomped off into the ARC without a second glance at any of them.
"Soldier Boy's so easy to wind up," Danny grinned.
"You were mean, you know how proud he is," Abby protested, but she was laughing too.
"Yeah." Danny didn't stop grinning. "Needs to lighten up and stop acting like he's got a stick up his arse all the time."
"Maybe you should go after him, Connor?" Abby suggested more gently, then punched Danny on the arm when he laughed harder at that. "Danny!"
It wasn't a bad idea, Connor thought. There was, after all, no question as to where Becker would have gone... Connor headed off after him.
Becker had, as Connor expected, headed straight for the showers.
There was a faint trail of muddy footprints leading all the way there. The cleaners were going to just love it when they turned up later and found that waiting for them, Connor knew. He intended making sure he had gone home by then. There was one particularly scary woman in whose hands the hoover was pretty much a deadly weapon, and she really didn't like it if there were just biscuit crumbs under Connor's desk. Which, admittedly, there were quite often. He didn't quite understand it, because if the place was spotlessly clean all the time then there would be no point to employing her. Really, he thought, he should be her favourite ARC employee.
The footprints went through several corridors and down a short flight of stairs to the locker rooms. She wasn't going to be happy at all.
The offending boots were lying on the floor, clumps of drying mud surrounding them that Becker must have dislodged when he was struggling to get the wet and filthy things off. His jacket had been discarded on the floor beside them, the mud mixing with the water already on the floor from where someone else had been in there after a shower. That cleaner was going to go ballistic.
Connor heard the shower go on, and quickly unlaced his own boots before pulling his hoodie and t-shirt over his head in one go and dropping them on the bench. The rest of his clothes quickly followed. Grabbing a towel from the pile, he slung it over his shoulder and headed through to the showers.
Becker was standing in the middle of the row of showerheads, two of them switched on and both twisted so that the water was hitting him. He was facing the wall, propping himself up against the wall with his hands, still fully clothed. A steady river of brown water was running away from his feet, swirling down towards the drain.
"Becker?" Connor had to say it twice, getting no reaction the first time. "You okay?"
Becker turned off the right hand shower and looked round at him. "I'm only having a shower, Connor. I can understand how you might find that disturbing but most people like to wash at least once a day."
"Not fully clothed they don't."
Becker gave a little snort of disgust, looking down at the discoloured water still pooling at his feet. "You'd rather that muck clogged our washing machine, would you?"
"It's not that bad."
"I was covered in it! And I'm still not sure you didn't do it deliberately."
Connor grinned. "You did look pretty good, all messed up like that. And now..." he plucked at the sopping black t-shirt Becker was wearing. "That can come off."
Becker gave him a long, appraising look, then shrugged and raised his arms. "Did you lock the door?"
Connor hadn't, but Becker didn't need to know that, and nobody was going to go anywhere near Becker while they thought he was in a bad mood so the two of them were perfectly safe.
He helped Becker out of his shirt, peeling the wet material from his body then pressing his face against the warm skin of Becker's throat. He could feel the other man's pulse rate increase as he did so. The drag of the t-shirt over his head had left Becker's wet hair sticking up at angles. It looked adorable, but Connor wasn't about to tell Becker that because Becker liked to think of himself as tough and manly. He'd probably do something horrible like shave all his hair off if he thought it looked in any way cute. Well, perhaps not go quite that far, because Becker was one of the vainest men Connor had ever met so far as his hair was concerned. Their bathroom cabinet was full of various Bed Head and Shockwaves products and not a lot else. Connor had borrowed some once, thinking Becker would never notice. He soon realised his mistake. Apparently Bed Head was quite an expensive make and he was only supposed to pinch the Shockwaves. Who knew? It all just looked like hair wax to Connor, and as he wasn't enough of a connoisseur to tell them apart he'd been told to go for the cheaper one. He couldn't even see any difference on the day Becker was forced to use the cheaper product because Connor had used the last of his Bed Head. That just proved the point as far as Becker was concerned.
"Why are you staring at my hair?"
"I'm not!" Too quick, and perhaps too high-pitched and guilty-sounding. Becker was reaching up to ruin that spiky effect that made him look just a little bit like one of those manga characters Connor enjoyed so much. He had to act quickly, diving at Becker and shoving him against the shower wall and kissing him hard.
Not that he would have been able to hold Becker there for long if Becker didn't want to be thrown against the shower wall. And judging by the satisfying bulge Connor could feel pressing against him from Becker's crotch, the soldier most definitely did want to be. He stuck his thumb into the waistband of Becker's trousers.
"These... off..." Connor said against his mouth, barely pulling out of the kiss at all.
Becker grinned, and Connor thought he was probably laughing at the attempt at mastery. Still not resisting it though, and Connor wondered how far he could push it. It was working for the moment, Becker fumbled with the fly, one-handed, his other hand holding the back of Connor's head and deepening the kiss.
The wet material wasn't going to give up its prize easily and in the end Connor reluctantly broke away to help Becker out, kneeling on the floor of the shower to peel the clothing off. His lover's eager cock bobbed up as soon as it was freed and from his position it seemed a waste not to lean forward and take it in his mouth, swallowing up to the hilt then rocking back, letting Becker fuck his mouth, loving the taste of him and the low moan that told Connor exactly how much Becker was enjoying it.
"Enough," Becker gasped, pushing Connor back, then pulling him to his feet to kiss him again. Connor made a brief attempt at leading but that was never going to happen once Becker was roused and he could feel his lover reaching down, a gel-slicked finger already teasing at his hole, carefully pushing inside and stretching him. When he added a second one, Connor pushed back against him, fucking himself on Becker's probing fingers, a plaintive, eager little noise slipping from his throat. He knew he sounded needy, but Becker always seemed to know exactly what turned him on and had just got better and better at it over the months they'd been together. Far from tiring of him, which had been what Connor had expected to happen fairly quickly, because he just didn't get that lucky, Becker just made him more his own with every passing day. If Connor ever lost him now, he didn't know how he'd survive it. Fortunately there wasn't any danger of that. After all, who else would put up with Becker and his moods? And more importantly, Connor could always ignore those moods because he knew that Becker loved him. Because just sometimes, when Becker had his guard down and they were lying together, post-coital and blissed out, Becker would tell him so. Becker wasn't the type to admit that unless he meant it. And the admission had taken months.
"Stop thinking," Becker growled. "No thinking." He gave Connor one last, deep snog, then turned him to face the wall, withdrawing his strong, probing fingers as he did so. Connor couldn't help giving a little whine of distress at the loss, then sighed with pleasure as Becker worked him again.
"Just do it," Connor groaned. "Want you inside me... please..." His swollen, aching cock was rock hard although Becker had given it no attention at all yet. Connor reached down to touch himself, but Becker slapped his hand away.
"Leave it. Mine."
Connor whimpered, arching back against Becker's probing fingers again, gasping as they brushed against his prostate and sent a wave of pleasure through him. Sometimes Becker liked to make him come untouched, just from the prostate massage or from fucking him. He could hear Becker working his own cock to full hardness again, his lover's grunts as he did so combined with the probing and stretching fingers almost setting Connor off.
"Becker please... want you... oh god, please, I'm ready, I swear..."
He felt Becker withdraw his fingers, and for a moment he felt bereft, empty. Then there was his lover's cock probing at his entrance, slick with whatever it was Becker was using for lube. Shower gel, probably. Connor gasped at the sensation as Becker pushed inside, then slid deeper.
"Okay?"
Connor nodded. "Don't stop..."
He felt Becker reach round for him, taking hold of his cock and squeezing, then starting to move his hand. At the same time he started to move, thrusting his hips against Connor, slow at first but building up to a relentless pace. Connor groaned as Becker shifted his angle slightly, his cock hitting the prostate with every thrust.
"Do... that... to... me... again... and... you... won't..."
Connor came with a moan of Becker's name, thick ribbons of come shooting up the shower wall, throwing his head back against his lover, the soldier's strong arms the only thing stopping him collapsing in a boneless shuddering heap.
"...sit... down...Oh fuck, Connor!" Becker was punctuating each word with a hard thrust but couldn't quite hold back long enough to continue right to the end of what he was trying to say, coming hard inside Connor with a deep, guttural groan of pleasure.
"...for a week..." He finished his promise in a whisper, pressing his face into Connor's throbbing neck and kissing him, marking him. Connor knew he would have to wear a scarf again for a few days, but he really didn't care.
They sank down onto the floor of the shower together, the steaming water beating down on them, washing away the evidence of their passion. Becker wrapped his arms around Connor and pulled him close. Connor snuggled in, aware without needing to ask that he was totally forgiven. Becker was so easy to sway back into a contented mood, given the right incentive. Now if he could just keep him away from Danny and any reminder comments the ex-policeman might have to make for the rest of the day...
"You did do it on purpose, didn't you?" Becker murmured in his ear.
"No..." Connor really hadn't. But with a result like that, if the opportunity presented itself again then it would be very hard to resist...