Primeval fic: Perfect (1/2) - Secret Santa for Kerry-Louise
Title: Perfect (Part 1 of 2)
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~ 6760 (out of ~11230)
Characters: Hilary Becker/James Lester, Lorraine Wickes, Blade (OC), mention of several others.
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace. Oh, and Blade belongs to Fred.
A/N 1: Secret Santa for Kerry-Louise:- Becker/Lester and her prompts - “Pretty, pretty please”, “Waterfall” and “I'm not drunk.” Hope you like it and are having a good Christmas.
A/N 2: Thanks go to the ever wonderful Fred for paw-holding and for a beta and to Fifi for more beta-ing and thoughts on how to improve it. *hugs*
Part 2
James Lester lay awake in the dark of the night, listening to the soft snores of his lover and smiling as warm puffs of air caressed his bare shoulder. James should have been asleep as well, with his busy schedule the next day, he needed to be asleep now. He needed to be on the ball when he faced the minister in the morning and dealt with the fallout from the last few days at the ARC. Added to that, he just knew Christine bloody Johnson would try to convince the minister that she should be given back control of the ARC, that he was not up to the job and, James sighed, considering recent events... no, he knew he was the best man for the job. He groaned softly as he imagined the meeting, although a smile flickered around his lips. He wasn't quite sure how Christine would convince the minister that calling him a 'Whitehall glove puppet with the IQ of a root vegetable' was a term of affection, but he knew watching her try would be therapeutic.
James knew just how lucky he'd been that Christine hadn't realised the true nature of his relationship with Becker; not that he had doubted his own abilities to convinced the minister that the ARC should be under his command. He let out a soft snort. He knew full well that if Christine had known that he was more to Becker than just his boss, it was unlikely that he would ever have regained the directorship, not while Christine had been leading the minister around by his dick. No, James knew it was only due to his lover being just as private and professional as he was himself, and that neither man had allowed the merest trace of their relationship to spill over into their working lives, that he had regained the ARC.
James smiled as Becker snuffled against him and he stroked a hand down the long line of his lover's back, his smile growing as he remembered their earlier love-making. He owed so much to Becker, his quick thinking and his loyalty, and James knew he would have to show Becker just how much that loyalty - how much he - meant to him. When James' mind refused to quiet and allow him to fall asleep, he found himself musing over how he and Becker had become lovers. That day had certainly been one of the worst at the ARC...
***
In James' opinion, today had almost been as bad as the time Leek had set a future predator to hunt him down and kill him. He glanced around at the subdued faces of his people and knew that most - if not all - present wouldn't agree. James knew how others saw him; he'd spent considerable time perfecting his personae as the cold-hearted bastard; after all, he was at the ARC to do a job, not to make friends.
He shook his head, now was not the time to get maudlin or wonder about 'what ifs'. What he did need to do was to convince the minister to take the threat Helen Cutter posed seriously and not dismiss her merely as the 'scorned wife'. The minister hadn't taken James' warnings to heart and look where it had got them? At least now the idiot might reconsider the threat she posed and agree to add her to the terrorist list to be captured at all costs. After all, he could hardly dismiss blowing up a government facility as anything other than an act of terrorism. At least, James hoped the minister couldn't.
James was thankful that for once he wasn't required to write letters of condolence to anyone's family, a small mercy considering the amount of damage Helen and her bloody clones had caused. He smiled slightly, at least one good thing had come from the disaster for it appeared that the suicidally-stubborn professor and his equally martyr-like assistant had finally figured out what they meant to each other and that Helen was a real bitch.
James rose from his chair and moved to look out into the atrium, swirling his whisky in the glass as he stared almost blindly at the rubble and destruction. The explosion had caused considerable damage to the ARC and the minister would not be happy to have to foot the bill. James closed his eyes and rested his head against the remains of his window frame. He was so looking forward to that meeting with the idiotic minister who needed things explained in words of one syllable and the gloating Christine Johnson... he gulped his drink in one, gasping at the burn.
A slight noise behind him had James tense before he swung around, his fingers reaching for the pistol he had taken to carrying after the Leek débâcle. It was only at the last moment that James recognised his head of security and replaced the weapon safely back in its holster. Having another member of his staff shot today would not look good and James just knew Christine would use it against him.
James' eyebrow rose as he realised just how dishevelled Becker looked with soot smearing his face and uniform. James' lips twitched with amusement when he realised that even after everything that had happened, not a single hair on Becker's head was out of place. What sort of hair product did the man use to withstand explosions and... James almost shook his head, now was not the time to wonder about Becker's sexuality. Not after today and not when Becker was obviously here just to ensure James made it home in one piece. Thinking about it, with Helen still at large, it was probably a good idea to arrange security for the top staff... Jenny... ah, maybe not. James sighed, remembering she was still away on her honeymoon. He would just have to sort it out himself in the morning, but for now all he wanted was to go home and curl up in bed. Preferably with someone to keep him warm, but he knew he'd have to settle for a whisky. When Becker just stood there and looked at him, James cocked his head and enquired, “Captain?”
Becker didn't respond, he just approached James who almost recoiled from the reek of booze on the soldier's breath. “Shir.” Becker slurred before tripping over his own feet and ending up in James' arms. He looked blearily up at James and smiled, before mumbling something that James managed to translate as, “You have beautiful green eyes.”
James blinked before he decided he had misheard and then realised that a stinking drunk Becker in his arms was just what he needed to make the day absolutely perfect. So he quirked an eyebrow and just stared at the man in his arms.
“I'm not drunk,” Becker slurred as if in answer to James' unasked comment.
“Really? What do you call this?” James asked as he indicated Becker's current inebriated state.
When Becker just blinked at him owlishly, James paused to considered his options. He had no wish to see Becker dismissed or in trouble for his present shambling state with anyone but himself, and not just because it would provide more ammunition for Christine to use against him. Nor did James wish to undermine the captain's authority with his men, for he knew precisely how hard it was to regain that respect once it had been lost. James shook his head. Reminiscing on the past wouldn't help him decide what to do about Becker. He remembered reading Becker's file and knew that the man would have taken the attack on the ARC and Cutter's near assassination by his demented wife as a personal failure. It probably didn't help that he'd told Becker that his only priority was to keep the team safe after the previous near disaster. James looked at Becker and sighed deeply, although he now had an explanation for the man's current condition, he was still left with the problem of what to do with the drunken idiot.
In the end, James groaned and knew he had little choice in the matter - he was the director of the ARC Project, and thus, Becker was his responsibility. He helped Becker stagger to the car park before pouring him into the back seat of his car and making sure the drunken soldier was firmly belted in. After all, it would be remiss of James if he'd just left Becker to his own devices when he was that sloshed out of his mind. The paperwork and hassle of having to break in a new man, not to mention Health and Safety, if the idiot hurt himself at the ARC, was just not something James wanted to deal with. James nodded at his conclusions - sensible, proper and the decent thing to do - nothing what-so-ever to do with how easy Becker was on the eye. James swiftly cut those thoughts off. Bloody hell, maybe he'd drunk too much whisky himself
James barely resisted the impulse to jump at the tutting sound behind him, but still spun around quickly enough to almost lose his own balance. His angry glare died under Lorraine's disapproving stare before he looked confused at her when she stretched her hand out towards him.
“Keys, Sir James.” Lorraine didn't wait for him to respond before she almost snatched them from his fingers. “You're not driving home when you've been drinking.” Her gaze slipped to the slumped form of Becker. “And you can keep an eye on the good Captain on the drive to your flat.”
“And just how are you getting home tonight?” James enquired as he eyed his keys, although he knew better than to try and retrieve them from her.
“Niall can follow and take me home.”
At Lorraine's words, James' head turned and he meet the soldier's eyes. He sighed, just what Becker needed, a witness to his shambolic state, not to mention to James taking him home.
“Don't worry, Sir James. Niall and I saw nothing of interest to anyone on our way home.”
“Nothing at all,” Blade added.
James sighed, knowing when he was beaten and he also knew he could trust Lorraine and Blade to stay quiet. In fact, Blade's presence might make getting the unresponsive Becker into James' flat a lot easier than he would have found it on his own. In the end, James knew he had little choice in the matter and reluctantly slid into the back seat of his own car. Not that it stopped him glaring at the indignity of being driven home in his own car.
Although once inside his flat, James was still faced with a problem and he hesitated between placing Becker in his guest bedroom or on his own bed. The thought of having Becker choke on his own vomit and die in the night vied with the horror of the man vomiting over James' expensive bedding. In the end, they dragged Becker into James' own room before Blade and Lorraine left them alone.
James set about making Becker comfortable on top of the bedding, a bowl placed strategically by the side of the bed. He paused a moment before getting ready for bed and sliding in between the sheets. He saw no reason not to be comfortable and if Becker got cold it was his own fault for getting stinking drunk.
It took some time for James to fall asleep as he found himself watching Becker, the way his back moved with each breath and... James groaned as his cock twitched and he turned away from the mesmerising sight, knowing Becker couldn't - wouldn't - want that sort of relationship with him. James tried to empty his mind, especially of the fact that he had Becker sleeping beside him. He needed his own sleep and then he'd have the fun of dealing with a hungover and no doubt grief-stricken Becker in the morning in addition to the minister.
Unfortunately, James hadn't quite thought everything through and woke in the middle of the night to find Becker plastered against his back and his erection digging into his arse. Before James had time to properly process that fact, he discovered that Becker apparently turned into an amorous octopus when he was drunk. God, his hands were everywhere and it took almost more braincells than a half-asleep and slightly drunk James could marshal to control the man's wandering hands, especially when they felt so good. It had been far too long since another's hands had touched James and he almost gave in to the sensations they aroused. Not that he didn't appreciate the attention but he would not take advantage of Becker, not when he was drunk and hurting and blaming himself for what had almost happened.
Thankfully for James' peace of mind - and no doubt Becker's when he was sober - Becker collapsed and fell asleep before anything more could happen. Although, James found that having the heavy weight of an unconscious, snoring and drooling soldier pinning him to the bed wasn't as much fun as he'd imagined it would be, but then, in those dreams Becker had always been awake and a lot more fun in bed.
***
The next morning dawned far too early for James when he woke with a thudding headache and a mouth that felt like the bottom of a parrot's cage. He was feeling rough enough that it took him several moments to realise he had an armful of sleeping soldier. He swallowed as the memory of the previous night returned and he felt his cock dig into Becker's lovely arse. Bloody hell, if Becker woke up now he'd think James had taken advantage of him in his... delicate condition. James almost snorted at that turn of phrase before his brain helpfully pointed out that Becker waking up in his bed alone was probably a better option than waking up to find James' erection poking him in the arse.
James carefully eased backwards only to bite back a curse when Becker moved with him, pressing back into his groin and awaking all sorts of interesting sensations there. As he considered his next move, James felt Becker stir before he froze. It was painfully clear to James that a) Becker was now awake and b) that he could feel James' cock hard against him.
James carefully eased away from the now awake Becker and wondered what his next move should be. Before he could came up with an option that would allow both of them to save face and for James to escape without any broken bones, Becker gave a low groan and flung an arm across his eyes. He was obviously feeling the effects of the previous night and suddenly James saw a way out. “Could I interest you in strong coffee and a bacon roll?”
“Please.”
Becker's voice was almost a croak, it was also, James thought, touched with the faintest hint of embarrassment. No doubt due to waking up in his boss' arms and with that hope-crushing thought, James slipped from his bed and tied his dressing gown closed around him. Not that it would do much to conceal his erection, but at least it would enable Becker to pretend it wasn't there. He made a quick stop in his bathroom to clean his teeth, piss and take care of his problem, quickly and efficiently. On his way to the kitchen, he nodded towards the now vacant bathroom. “There's mouthwash in there if you want it?”
James was watching the bacon cook when he heard Becker's approach, he glanced up but whatever words he was about to speak died unformed at the sight of a slightly damp Becker, his normally tamed hair forming spikes. It was a lovely look on him and James' cock twitched in agreement, before he turned his back to Becker and his attention to the bacon and to cold thoughts as he tried to control his reaction. James had never been one to press his attentions when they were so clearly unwelcome.
Breakfast was accomplished in near silence, James' gaze fixed firmly on his own food rather than the torment of watching Becker as the man wolfed down his food in an attempt to leave James' presence as quickly as possible.
Becker paused as he was leaving, his eyes lowered. He quietly murmured, “Um, sorry for the inconvenience, Sir James.”
***
A week later, James had firmly believed that Becker had forgotten all about their drunken nocturnal encounter and awkward morning after and he couldn't blame Becker if he had. Who would want to remember waking up in their boss' bed, especially with a killer hangover and no memory of the previous night? James had regretfully pushed the encounter to the back of his mind, firmly telling himself to forget all about it. He had therefore been surprised to look up from his computer last thing one night to find Becker leaning against his door, a smirk on his face as he watched James. “James?”
James curbed the surge of hope he felt at the use of his first name and merely quirked an eyebrow at Becker. There could be many reasons for Becker using his first name other than wanting something more with him; not that James could think of one at the moment, but he was not willing to make more of a fool of himself then he already had by making the first move only to be rejected. “Captain?” James couldn't tear his gaze away when Becker shoved off the wall and approached James' desk, his hips wiggling suggestively with every step.
Becker's voice was low. “I'm not drunk, James. Not this time.”
“Ah.” James steepled his hands and looked at Becker, who was now looking less sure of himself. Did Becker really want to go home with him and shag? There was only one way to find out and James was neither a coward or a fool. “Would you care for a drink, Captain?” James let out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding when Becker's blazing grin told him he'd made the correct decision.
James had led the way to their cars, half-expecting Becker to cry off at any moment or for his lights to stop following James' on the drive home. Even by the time he had opened the door of his flat and entered, he was still waiting for Becker to realise this wasn't a good idea. It was the reason he left the door open, leaving it up to Becker whether to enter or not. He swallowed as the door snick closed and he held his breath as he listened intently for Becker's footsteps, hoping the man had actually entered and not just shut the door on his way home.
The air whooshed from James' lungs as he was spun and pressed against a wall and he soon discovered that a sober Becker was just as much of an octopus sober as when he was drunk. His hands were everywhere, sweeping over James' back before pulling his shirt out of his trousers to touch him skin to skin. James moaned into the kiss and allowed Becker's tongue entrance, duelling with it as his own hands groped Becker's firm arse.
Distracted by Becker's talented tongue and hands, James found himself taken by surprise when those same dexterous fingers quickly had his zip undone and his leaking cock in hand before he realised what was happening. The sight of Becker dropping gracefully to his knees, looking as if he belonged there, took James' breath away and before he could gather enough braincells to do anything, Becker pounced.
James found himself lost in the feel of Becker's mouth, and what man could think rationally when his cock was being expertly sucked and skilfully teased with such obvious relish? God, Becker looked so bloody perfect on his knees with his mouth stretched wide around James and the sight of his cock sliding in and out of that hot and willing mouth was so bloody arousing that James was surprised he didn't come there and then.
James moaned in loss when Becker pulled back, his cock leaving Becker's mouth with a soft pop. However, before he could complain, Becker quickly stripped naked and leaned against the opposite wall, his head resting on his bracing arms and his arse thrust out backwards as he wiggled it. “Please.”
It took a moment for James to gather his wits and he paused to consider his options. As much as he wanted to take what Becker was offering him, fucking against a wall held little attraction when his bed - not to mention the lubricant and condoms - was so near. “Bedroom.”
Becker nodded eagerly and hurried towards the bedroom. For a moment James wondered how he knew where it was but then the sight of Becker's arse disappearing into the bedroom had James quickly following him. James' breath caught as he found Becker waiting for him on the bed, the view of his delectable arse in the air was almost too much for James. He took several deep breaths and a few moments to carefully fold his clothes in an attempt to regain at least some control. It would hardly be good form to come as soon as he was inside Becker.
Once more master of his arousal, if only for now, James turned to admire Becker. James was about to slip onto the bed behind Becker when he remembered he'd need the lubricant and a condom. Finally, he was able to run his hands over Becker's sleek muscles before he let a finger graze along the shadowy cleft. The dirty moan that dropped from Becker's lips went straight to James' cock and he had to take another moment to control himself.
James skimmed his hands over Becker's skin, marvelling in the knowledge that Becker wanted him. Wanted him to plunder his body and... James gave his own needy moan. His voice was husky with the need to bury himself deep within Becker, to fuck him. “Ready?”
“Please,” Becker cried out breathlessly, pushing his arse back into James' hands. “I want to feel you. Please, fuck me, James.”
James groaned at how bloody responsive Becker was under his touch, pushing his perfect arse back to more and James was in no mood to refuse him. He slowly parted Becker's firm globes and stared at the revealed dark pucker. Leaning forward, he smiled at the shiver and moan Becker gave when he let his breath caress the ring of muscle before he lathed it, his tongue teasingly light as he flicked it over Becker's entrance before plunging it inside him. He spent some considerable time licking and nibbling around Becker's arse, listening to his new lover's cries as he pushed back for more.
“Please, James,” Becker moaned. “Need you.”
James swallowed and nodded. God, he needed to be inside Becker right now. Common sense stopped him just before he tried to plunge into Becker dry. He sat back on his heels and glanced around for the lubricant and condom, he knew he'd put them somewhere. James ripped the condom open with his teeth and rolled it on, slicking himself with the lubricant before turning back to Becker. A Becker who was looking over his shoulder with a look of such need on his face that James had to bite his lip not to come there and then, although he still had to give his cock a quick squeeze.
James eased a lubricant-coated finger into Becker's heat, thrusting it gently into him and crooking it to find Becker's prostate. The full-body shiver Becker gave at that action had James smiling and he leaned closer to talk into Becker's ear. “You like that, Becker? You like me fingering you, opening you up ready for me to fuck you?”
The moans, sighs and pleas Becker uttered when James slowly added more fingers and stretched him had James' cock full and hard and oh so painful in his need to come and come right now. Need overtook sense and James abruptly pulled his fingers out of Becker only to plunge his cock inside him in one move. Only in the instant when he was buried to the hilt inside Becker's spasming arse did James freeze, recognising that the abrupt penetration must have hurt Becker. “Becker?”
Becker groaned in what James took to be extreme pain and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and prepared to withdraw. Before James could move, he groaned when Becker clenched tightly around him, holding him firmly inside. “Please, James. Fuck me.”
James still hesitated until Becker began to fuck himself on his cock. The feel of that tight channel clinging to him as Becker squeezed hard around him, soon had James groaning and he gripped Becker's hips firmly as he began to move. Thrusting deeply into Becker before pulling almost all the way free, James listened to Becker crying out as he shoved back for more. It felt so bloody wonderful, the way Becker opened so completely for him and took all he had, seeming to suck him inside and cradle him within. Becker was so bloody eager to be taken and begged to be fucked hard. James knew he wouldn't last long, not in that sweet heat and the way Becker writhed and shuddered and clenched around him.
***
Those were some lovely memories and James was not surprised at his reaction to them. He glanced at his lover, but Becker was still snoring softly. James dropped a hand down to gently stroke his erection while his other hand stroked through Becker's hair, smiling as he felt his lover stir beneath his fingers.
Becker uttered a soft groan. “Shouldn't you be asleep, James? You've got an early morning meeting tomorrow.”
James rolled his eyes, wincing at how tired his voice sounded as he snapped at Becker. “I do know that.” He sighed, he also knew that neither were Becker's fault. “I'm sorry, Becks. I owe you so much for what you did for me today.”
Becker grinned, looking far too alert for this time of night. “Really?” He moved until he could see James and then smirked as he noticed what James' hand was up to. “Just how much?”
James gasped as Becker ran his fingertip down his chest and along his length, thrust gently into his lover's grip when Becker took him in hand. “Everything.”
Becker's thumb flicked James' slit and had his hips lifting for more. “Ooh, so I can have anything I want?”
Something in Becker's voice had James narrow his gaze at him, fighting the lovely feeling Becker's hand was creating as he tried to gather enough braincells together to think. The look in Becker's eye was familiar and James frantically considered his last comment to the soldier. Oh fuck. “Almost anything, Becks. I'm not getting you a tank.” James almost laughed at the disappointed pout that appeared on Becker's face, gasping instead when Becker roughly squeezed his cock in revenge. James knew he wouldn't be coming with the strangle-hold Becker had on him, but that knowledge didn't stop his hips rising as he sought his denied release. Reining in his need and assuming his calm, cool and in control persona, even as he sought more friction on his cock, James shook his head. “The minister isn't going to be happy with me tomorrow, Becks. After all, how many men would be when the woman they think loves them called them a root vegetable?”
Becker chuckled. “I thought it was a glove puppet.” He tilted his head in query, “But what has that got to do with you and my tank?”
James closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. “Because, in his opinion, if we hadn't been playing silly buggers and just worked together, it wouldn't have happened and he could have continued in blissful ignorance of her true opinion of him. This really isn't the time to ask him for a tank, no matter how happy it would make you.” He exhaled. “And you can rely on Christine not being finished yet, she'll make it up to the minister and get back on his good side.”
“And asking for a tank wouldn't look good when she makes another grab for the ARC?”
James nodded. “Precisely.” He rubbed at his forehead again, the dull ache of a migraine growing with every heartbeat. He smiled when Becker kissed him and ruffled his hair.
“Migraine?”
James nodded. “Just what I need on top of too little sleep.”
“And a meeting with those two,” Becker murmured softly before adding, “Take your tablets and then I'll make you forget all about the migraine and the bloody meeting.”
James smiled, he could cope with being tired tomorrow if it meant getting rid of the migraine. He swallowed his tablets without complaint and relaxed beneath Becker's lips, tongue and teeth as his lover kissed and nuzzled his way down towards James' straining cock. He gasped and thrust upwards as Becker's warm mouth surrounded him, swallowing around him and, oh God, pressing a finger against him, the tip just pushing inside.
James cracked his eyes open and gazed down at Becker. His mouth was stretched wide around him and his cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard. His hips rose helplessly and then he was gasping and groaning and coming hard. He snuffled contentedly as Becker pulled him close and he slipped into much needed sleep.
***
“Becker?” James called out as he entered his - their - flat, his façade cracking as his shoulders slumped and his gait faltered slightly when he heard no response and no longer had to pretend everything was fine. The meeting had been even worse than he had anticipated, the atmosphere between the minister and Christine had been positively Arctic. After having to play umpire during the meeting, he found even the act of pouring himself a glass of whisky too much effort and he just collapsed into an armchair with a groan.
Sometime later, James slowly woke to find himself held in strong arms against a firm chest. It took him a moment longer to become aware of a hand stroking his hair.
“Worse than you expected?” Becker's voice held more than a hint of concern as he nudged James' chin until he could peer into James' eyes.
“Mmm.” Forming words seemed too much effort for James and for once he couldn't bring himself to care.
“Right.” Becker paused before nodding. “Come on, James, on your feet. Let's get you into bed and then I'm going to take care of you.”
James didn't have the energy to argue with Becker and allowed his lover a free hand in stripping him and positioning him on his belly. He groaned as Becker's strong hands began to stroke across his shoulders, Becker's fingers pausing when he encountered knots that he expertly eased. Soon, his hands were stroking from James' shoulders down to his arse.
“I've decided what I want.”
James' brain was nowhere near its normal razor-edged self, as indicated by his response of “Uh?”
Becker's hands continued to move firmly across oiled skin. “For getting the ARC back for you.”
When Becker's hands lingered on his arse for a fraction longer than necessary, James managed, “I wouldn't object to being fucked.” James held his breath as soon as he realised what he'd said. Fuck! He'd never... he wouldn't have offered if he'd been more awake. But... if Becker wanted to, could he really go back on his offer now?
“What?”
Becker sounded surprised and it took James far longer than he was happy with to conclude that shagging him wasn't the reward Becker was after and relief flooded through him, swiftly followed by a slightly guilty feeling at that reaction.
“Not that it doesn't sound good, and if you're still offering later I might take you up on it,” Becker continued. “But that wasn't what I was thinking about.”
“I'm still not getting you a tank.” James knew his lover was still pining for a tank, although what use it would be at the ARC was beyond him, and it wasn't as if his lover needed to compensate for anything.
“Spoilsport,” Becker pouted before adding, “No, I was thinking of a holiday.”
James managed to crane his neck to look at his lover, trying to figure out if he'd just suggested what James thought he had. James couldn't go on holiday, no matter how much it appealed, not with Christine still after the ARC, not to mention the spectre of Helen Cutter flitting in and out of their lives to cause havoc. Before he could verbalise his disagreement, Becker hurried on.
“Please, James. Just think about it. You, me and sex. Lots and lots of sex.”
It sounded very appealing, but James hadn't got to his current position by not being a suspicious bastard. “And what brought on this sudden desire for a holiday?” A horrible thought occurred to him. “You aren't suggesting we join Cutter and Hart so you can protect them, I hope? What almost happened at the ARC wasn't your fault.”
Becker looked guilty for a moment before the first part of James' comment seemed to register. “No thanks, I want you to relax, not have a heart attack because of an argument with Cutter or because you overhear them shagging.”
“I could have done without that thought,” James muttered before he arched an eyebrow and added, “Although I believe that is the customary activity on one's honeymoon.”
Becker grinned before shaking his head. “Stop trying to change the subject. Now, the world won't end if you take a few days off, even a week.” When James' other eyebrow rose, Becker sighed. “OK, so it might, but Johnson won't have charmed the minister by then and,” he smiled, “at least we can happily shag until the end.”
James snorted, trust Becker to think of having sex as the world ended. “I have too much work...”
Becker pressed his finger to James' lips. “Please, James. Lorraine can arrange the booking and flights and you've said before that Jenny's quite capable of looking after the ARC without you and now that Captain Ryan's back on duty I don't have to worry about their security.” When James didn't reply, Becker continued, “Please, James, I think you're over-worked and far too stressed.” He took a deep breath before adding, “I don't want to lose you.”
“I do hope you don't expect me to be equally soppy?” James smiled softly. “You're not going to lose me, Becks, even if that bitch manages to somehow convince the minister about the ARC, we'll still be together. One way or another.” He sighed contentedly when Becker leaned over to kiss him before nuzzling a nipple, his talented fingers provoking needy moans from James when Becker found all his sensitive places. He knew Becker was just trying to persuade him to go along with his plans, but James saw no reason not to enjoy the attention.
“Please, James, let me look after you, just this once. Please.” Becker's hand rubbed soothing circles on James' belly as he continued to try and convince him to go along with his plan. “Pretty, pretty please, James.” James uttered a needy moan when Becker's voice dropped to a throaty growl. “I'll make it worth your time.” -
“I just bet you would,” James muttered, knowing his lover really would, before adding in a fonder tone, “You really are a shameless cockslut, aren't you?”
“Only for you,” Becker pledged before kissing James hard. “So... please, pretty, pretty please can we go on holiday?”
James snorted at him and felt Becker tense as he looked down in disappointment at James' apparent refusal. James briefly closed his eyes before he nudged Becker's chin up until his lover met his eyes. “I'm sorry, Becks, but I'd never have expected you to plead like that for a holiday. A tank, maybe, but a holiday?”
“Well, if a tank is still on offer...”
“No!” James smiled as he tugged Becker into his arms. “It bloody well isn't.” He knew he owed Becker everything and if his lover would agree to a holiday rather than a tank... he sighed, knowing that he would agree to Becker's request and not because Becker thought he needed a holiday. It was obvious to him that Becker blamed himself for him losing the ARC in the first place, for his lover always took the blame for things going wrong, whether it was his fault or not or even if it was entirely outside his control. He'd blamed himself for Helen's murderous intentions towards Cutter, although James knew that was partly his fault as he'd told Becker that protecting the team was his only job. If only he'd known how guilt-ridden Becker could be, he would have chosen his words with far more care... well, no he wouldn't have, not then.
Everyday since they had become a couple, James had tried to show Becker he was worth everything to him, but it was difficult when his lover seemed to have such a low opinion of himself. It hadn't taken James too long to discover the cause - a high-ranking military father with a low tolerance of 'un-manly' behaviour in his men, especially when it come to his gay son. Bastard.
Once he had discovered that, James had done all he could to make Becker realise he wasn't worthless because he occasionally made mistakes and failed, but it was hard when his father had done such a good job on his lover's confidence. All James could do was try and show Becker that he was absolutely perfect and everything James had ever wanted in a lover. Maybe a holiday would be the perfect way to show Becker how much he meant to him? Time alone, just the two of them spending their days and especially their nights with each other. “I think a holiday sounds a wonderful idea, Becks. Just spending time with you.”
Becker looked slightly suspicious at James' sudden agreement. “James?”
James tugged Becker into a deep kiss. “Can't I just want to spend time with my gorgeous lover?” When Becker's expression didn't change, James added, “I obviously haven't made it clear to you, Becks, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You want to be with me, snark and all.”
“It grows on you.”
“Mmm.” James almost sighed, understanding all too well what Becker was trying to do. His lover never accepted praise, always too busy looking for the errors he had made. Well, James would just have to convince him that he was absolutely perfect and the holiday would be the ideal place for it. James smiled as he recalled an offer made by an old friend. “Becks, let me make the plans.”
“I wasn't going to book the same place as Cutter and Hart.”
“I know you weren't.” James pulled Becker in for a kiss. “I have an old friend, I was best man at his wedding and he was mine.” He made Becker look at him when his lover tried to look away at the mention of James' previous marriage. “I'm with you now, Becks, not her.” He waited until Becker nodded before continuing, “As I was trying to say, he's got a private place in the Caribbean, just a few members of staff to worry about. And I have a standing invitation to stay.”
“With your wife?” Becker muttered.
“No, love,” James corrected him. “Marcus made the offer before I married her and I never had the time to take her there.” He paused to meet Becker's eyes. “I want to go there with you.”
Part 2
Author: knitekat
Word Count: ~ 6760 (out of ~11230)
Characters: Hilary Becker/James Lester, Lorraine Wickes, Blade (OC), mention of several others.
Rating: 18
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures. Certainly not me. Writing for fun and will replace. Oh, and Blade belongs to Fred.
A/N 1: Secret Santa for Kerry-Louise:- Becker/Lester and her prompts - “Pretty, pretty please”, “Waterfall” and “I'm not drunk.” Hope you like it and are having a good Christmas.
A/N 2: Thanks go to the ever wonderful Fred for paw-holding and for a beta and to Fifi for more beta-ing and thoughts on how to improve it. *hugs*
Part 2
James Lester lay awake in the dark of the night, listening to the soft snores of his lover and smiling as warm puffs of air caressed his bare shoulder. James should have been asleep as well, with his busy schedule the next day, he needed to be asleep now. He needed to be on the ball when he faced the minister in the morning and dealt with the fallout from the last few days at the ARC. Added to that, he just knew Christine bloody Johnson would try to convince the minister that she should be given back control of the ARC, that he was not up to the job and, James sighed, considering recent events... no, he knew he was the best man for the job. He groaned softly as he imagined the meeting, although a smile flickered around his lips. He wasn't quite sure how Christine would convince the minister that calling him a 'Whitehall glove puppet with the IQ of a root vegetable' was a term of affection, but he knew watching her try would be therapeutic.
James knew just how lucky he'd been that Christine hadn't realised the true nature of his relationship with Becker; not that he had doubted his own abilities to convinced the minister that the ARC should be under his command. He let out a soft snort. He knew full well that if Christine had known that he was more to Becker than just his boss, it was unlikely that he would ever have regained the directorship, not while Christine had been leading the minister around by his dick. No, James knew it was only due to his lover being just as private and professional as he was himself, and that neither man had allowed the merest trace of their relationship to spill over into their working lives, that he had regained the ARC.
James smiled as Becker snuffled against him and he stroked a hand down the long line of his lover's back, his smile growing as he remembered their earlier love-making. He owed so much to Becker, his quick thinking and his loyalty, and James knew he would have to show Becker just how much that loyalty - how much he - meant to him. When James' mind refused to quiet and allow him to fall asleep, he found himself musing over how he and Becker had become lovers. That day had certainly been one of the worst at the ARC...
***
In James' opinion, today had almost been as bad as the time Leek had set a future predator to hunt him down and kill him. He glanced around at the subdued faces of his people and knew that most - if not all - present wouldn't agree. James knew how others saw him; he'd spent considerable time perfecting his personae as the cold-hearted bastard; after all, he was at the ARC to do a job, not to make friends.
He shook his head, now was not the time to get maudlin or wonder about 'what ifs'. What he did need to do was to convince the minister to take the threat Helen Cutter posed seriously and not dismiss her merely as the 'scorned wife'. The minister hadn't taken James' warnings to heart and look where it had got them? At least now the idiot might reconsider the threat she posed and agree to add her to the terrorist list to be captured at all costs. After all, he could hardly dismiss blowing up a government facility as anything other than an act of terrorism. At least, James hoped the minister couldn't.
James was thankful that for once he wasn't required to write letters of condolence to anyone's family, a small mercy considering the amount of damage Helen and her bloody clones had caused. He smiled slightly, at least one good thing had come from the disaster for it appeared that the suicidally-stubborn professor and his equally martyr-like assistant had finally figured out what they meant to each other and that Helen was a real bitch.
James rose from his chair and moved to look out into the atrium, swirling his whisky in the glass as he stared almost blindly at the rubble and destruction. The explosion had caused considerable damage to the ARC and the minister would not be happy to have to foot the bill. James closed his eyes and rested his head against the remains of his window frame. He was so looking forward to that meeting with the idiotic minister who needed things explained in words of one syllable and the gloating Christine Johnson... he gulped his drink in one, gasping at the burn.
A slight noise behind him had James tense before he swung around, his fingers reaching for the pistol he had taken to carrying after the Leek débâcle. It was only at the last moment that James recognised his head of security and replaced the weapon safely back in its holster. Having another member of his staff shot today would not look good and James just knew Christine would use it against him.
James' eyebrow rose as he realised just how dishevelled Becker looked with soot smearing his face and uniform. James' lips twitched with amusement when he realised that even after everything that had happened, not a single hair on Becker's head was out of place. What sort of hair product did the man use to withstand explosions and... James almost shook his head, now was not the time to wonder about Becker's sexuality. Not after today and not when Becker was obviously here just to ensure James made it home in one piece. Thinking about it, with Helen still at large, it was probably a good idea to arrange security for the top staff... Jenny... ah, maybe not. James sighed, remembering she was still away on her honeymoon. He would just have to sort it out himself in the morning, but for now all he wanted was to go home and curl up in bed. Preferably with someone to keep him warm, but he knew he'd have to settle for a whisky. When Becker just stood there and looked at him, James cocked his head and enquired, “Captain?”
Becker didn't respond, he just approached James who almost recoiled from the reek of booze on the soldier's breath. “Shir.” Becker slurred before tripping over his own feet and ending up in James' arms. He looked blearily up at James and smiled, before mumbling something that James managed to translate as, “You have beautiful green eyes.”
James blinked before he decided he had misheard and then realised that a stinking drunk Becker in his arms was just what he needed to make the day absolutely perfect. So he quirked an eyebrow and just stared at the man in his arms.
“I'm not drunk,” Becker slurred as if in answer to James' unasked comment.
“Really? What do you call this?” James asked as he indicated Becker's current inebriated state.
When Becker just blinked at him owlishly, James paused to considered his options. He had no wish to see Becker dismissed or in trouble for his present shambling state with anyone but himself, and not just because it would provide more ammunition for Christine to use against him. Nor did James wish to undermine the captain's authority with his men, for he knew precisely how hard it was to regain that respect once it had been lost. James shook his head. Reminiscing on the past wouldn't help him decide what to do about Becker. He remembered reading Becker's file and knew that the man would have taken the attack on the ARC and Cutter's near assassination by his demented wife as a personal failure. It probably didn't help that he'd told Becker that his only priority was to keep the team safe after the previous near disaster. James looked at Becker and sighed deeply, although he now had an explanation for the man's current condition, he was still left with the problem of what to do with the drunken idiot.
In the end, James groaned and knew he had little choice in the matter - he was the director of the ARC Project, and thus, Becker was his responsibility. He helped Becker stagger to the car park before pouring him into the back seat of his car and making sure the drunken soldier was firmly belted in. After all, it would be remiss of James if he'd just left Becker to his own devices when he was that sloshed out of his mind. The paperwork and hassle of having to break in a new man, not to mention Health and Safety, if the idiot hurt himself at the ARC, was just not something James wanted to deal with. James nodded at his conclusions - sensible, proper and the decent thing to do - nothing what-so-ever to do with how easy Becker was on the eye. James swiftly cut those thoughts off. Bloody hell, maybe he'd drunk too much whisky himself
James barely resisted the impulse to jump at the tutting sound behind him, but still spun around quickly enough to almost lose his own balance. His angry glare died under Lorraine's disapproving stare before he looked confused at her when she stretched her hand out towards him.
“Keys, Sir James.” Lorraine didn't wait for him to respond before she almost snatched them from his fingers. “You're not driving home when you've been drinking.” Her gaze slipped to the slumped form of Becker. “And you can keep an eye on the good Captain on the drive to your flat.”
“And just how are you getting home tonight?” James enquired as he eyed his keys, although he knew better than to try and retrieve them from her.
“Niall can follow and take me home.”
At Lorraine's words, James' head turned and he meet the soldier's eyes. He sighed, just what Becker needed, a witness to his shambolic state, not to mention to James taking him home.
“Don't worry, Sir James. Niall and I saw nothing of interest to anyone on our way home.”
“Nothing at all,” Blade added.
James sighed, knowing when he was beaten and he also knew he could trust Lorraine and Blade to stay quiet. In fact, Blade's presence might make getting the unresponsive Becker into James' flat a lot easier than he would have found it on his own. In the end, James knew he had little choice in the matter and reluctantly slid into the back seat of his own car. Not that it stopped him glaring at the indignity of being driven home in his own car.
Although once inside his flat, James was still faced with a problem and he hesitated between placing Becker in his guest bedroom or on his own bed. The thought of having Becker choke on his own vomit and die in the night vied with the horror of the man vomiting over James' expensive bedding. In the end, they dragged Becker into James' own room before Blade and Lorraine left them alone.
James set about making Becker comfortable on top of the bedding, a bowl placed strategically by the side of the bed. He paused a moment before getting ready for bed and sliding in between the sheets. He saw no reason not to be comfortable and if Becker got cold it was his own fault for getting stinking drunk.
It took some time for James to fall asleep as he found himself watching Becker, the way his back moved with each breath and... James groaned as his cock twitched and he turned away from the mesmerising sight, knowing Becker couldn't - wouldn't - want that sort of relationship with him. James tried to empty his mind, especially of the fact that he had Becker sleeping beside him. He needed his own sleep and then he'd have the fun of dealing with a hungover and no doubt grief-stricken Becker in the morning in addition to the minister.
Unfortunately, James hadn't quite thought everything through and woke in the middle of the night to find Becker plastered against his back and his erection digging into his arse. Before James had time to properly process that fact, he discovered that Becker apparently turned into an amorous octopus when he was drunk. God, his hands were everywhere and it took almost more braincells than a half-asleep and slightly drunk James could marshal to control the man's wandering hands, especially when they felt so good. It had been far too long since another's hands had touched James and he almost gave in to the sensations they aroused. Not that he didn't appreciate the attention but he would not take advantage of Becker, not when he was drunk and hurting and blaming himself for what had almost happened.
Thankfully for James' peace of mind - and no doubt Becker's when he was sober - Becker collapsed and fell asleep before anything more could happen. Although, James found that having the heavy weight of an unconscious, snoring and drooling soldier pinning him to the bed wasn't as much fun as he'd imagined it would be, but then, in those dreams Becker had always been awake and a lot more fun in bed.
***
The next morning dawned far too early for James when he woke with a thudding headache and a mouth that felt like the bottom of a parrot's cage. He was feeling rough enough that it took him several moments to realise he had an armful of sleeping soldier. He swallowed as the memory of the previous night returned and he felt his cock dig into Becker's lovely arse. Bloody hell, if Becker woke up now he'd think James had taken advantage of him in his... delicate condition. James almost snorted at that turn of phrase before his brain helpfully pointed out that Becker waking up in his bed alone was probably a better option than waking up to find James' erection poking him in the arse.
James carefully eased backwards only to bite back a curse when Becker moved with him, pressing back into his groin and awaking all sorts of interesting sensations there. As he considered his next move, James felt Becker stir before he froze. It was painfully clear to James that a) Becker was now awake and b) that he could feel James' cock hard against him.
James carefully eased away from the now awake Becker and wondered what his next move should be. Before he could came up with an option that would allow both of them to save face and for James to escape without any broken bones, Becker gave a low groan and flung an arm across his eyes. He was obviously feeling the effects of the previous night and suddenly James saw a way out. “Could I interest you in strong coffee and a bacon roll?”
“Please.”
Becker's voice was almost a croak, it was also, James thought, touched with the faintest hint of embarrassment. No doubt due to waking up in his boss' arms and with that hope-crushing thought, James slipped from his bed and tied his dressing gown closed around him. Not that it would do much to conceal his erection, but at least it would enable Becker to pretend it wasn't there. He made a quick stop in his bathroom to clean his teeth, piss and take care of his problem, quickly and efficiently. On his way to the kitchen, he nodded towards the now vacant bathroom. “There's mouthwash in there if you want it?”
James was watching the bacon cook when he heard Becker's approach, he glanced up but whatever words he was about to speak died unformed at the sight of a slightly damp Becker, his normally tamed hair forming spikes. It was a lovely look on him and James' cock twitched in agreement, before he turned his back to Becker and his attention to the bacon and to cold thoughts as he tried to control his reaction. James had never been one to press his attentions when they were so clearly unwelcome.
Breakfast was accomplished in near silence, James' gaze fixed firmly on his own food rather than the torment of watching Becker as the man wolfed down his food in an attempt to leave James' presence as quickly as possible.
Becker paused as he was leaving, his eyes lowered. He quietly murmured, “Um, sorry for the inconvenience, Sir James.”
***
A week later, James had firmly believed that Becker had forgotten all about their drunken nocturnal encounter and awkward morning after and he couldn't blame Becker if he had. Who would want to remember waking up in their boss' bed, especially with a killer hangover and no memory of the previous night? James had regretfully pushed the encounter to the back of his mind, firmly telling himself to forget all about it. He had therefore been surprised to look up from his computer last thing one night to find Becker leaning against his door, a smirk on his face as he watched James. “James?”
James curbed the surge of hope he felt at the use of his first name and merely quirked an eyebrow at Becker. There could be many reasons for Becker using his first name other than wanting something more with him; not that James could think of one at the moment, but he was not willing to make more of a fool of himself then he already had by making the first move only to be rejected. “Captain?” James couldn't tear his gaze away when Becker shoved off the wall and approached James' desk, his hips wiggling suggestively with every step.
Becker's voice was low. “I'm not drunk, James. Not this time.”
“Ah.” James steepled his hands and looked at Becker, who was now looking less sure of himself. Did Becker really want to go home with him and shag? There was only one way to find out and James was neither a coward or a fool. “Would you care for a drink, Captain?” James let out a breath he hadn't even realised he had been holding when Becker's blazing grin told him he'd made the correct decision.
James had led the way to their cars, half-expecting Becker to cry off at any moment or for his lights to stop following James' on the drive home. Even by the time he had opened the door of his flat and entered, he was still waiting for Becker to realise this wasn't a good idea. It was the reason he left the door open, leaving it up to Becker whether to enter or not. He swallowed as the door snick closed and he held his breath as he listened intently for Becker's footsteps, hoping the man had actually entered and not just shut the door on his way home.
The air whooshed from James' lungs as he was spun and pressed against a wall and he soon discovered that a sober Becker was just as much of an octopus sober as when he was drunk. His hands were everywhere, sweeping over James' back before pulling his shirt out of his trousers to touch him skin to skin. James moaned into the kiss and allowed Becker's tongue entrance, duelling with it as his own hands groped Becker's firm arse.
Distracted by Becker's talented tongue and hands, James found himself taken by surprise when those same dexterous fingers quickly had his zip undone and his leaking cock in hand before he realised what was happening. The sight of Becker dropping gracefully to his knees, looking as if he belonged there, took James' breath away and before he could gather enough braincells to do anything, Becker pounced.
James found himself lost in the feel of Becker's mouth, and what man could think rationally when his cock was being expertly sucked and skilfully teased with such obvious relish? God, Becker looked so bloody perfect on his knees with his mouth stretched wide around James and the sight of his cock sliding in and out of that hot and willing mouth was so bloody arousing that James was surprised he didn't come there and then.
James moaned in loss when Becker pulled back, his cock leaving Becker's mouth with a soft pop. However, before he could complain, Becker quickly stripped naked and leaned against the opposite wall, his head resting on his bracing arms and his arse thrust out backwards as he wiggled it. “Please.”
It took a moment for James to gather his wits and he paused to consider his options. As much as he wanted to take what Becker was offering him, fucking against a wall held little attraction when his bed - not to mention the lubricant and condoms - was so near. “Bedroom.”
Becker nodded eagerly and hurried towards the bedroom. For a moment James wondered how he knew where it was but then the sight of Becker's arse disappearing into the bedroom had James quickly following him. James' breath caught as he found Becker waiting for him on the bed, the view of his delectable arse in the air was almost too much for James. He took several deep breaths and a few moments to carefully fold his clothes in an attempt to regain at least some control. It would hardly be good form to come as soon as he was inside Becker.
Once more master of his arousal, if only for now, James turned to admire Becker. James was about to slip onto the bed behind Becker when he remembered he'd need the lubricant and a condom. Finally, he was able to run his hands over Becker's sleek muscles before he let a finger graze along the shadowy cleft. The dirty moan that dropped from Becker's lips went straight to James' cock and he had to take another moment to control himself.
James skimmed his hands over Becker's skin, marvelling in the knowledge that Becker wanted him. Wanted him to plunder his body and... James gave his own needy moan. His voice was husky with the need to bury himself deep within Becker, to fuck him. “Ready?”
“Please,” Becker cried out breathlessly, pushing his arse back into James' hands. “I want to feel you. Please, fuck me, James.”
James groaned at how bloody responsive Becker was under his touch, pushing his perfect arse back to more and James was in no mood to refuse him. He slowly parted Becker's firm globes and stared at the revealed dark pucker. Leaning forward, he smiled at the shiver and moan Becker gave when he let his breath caress the ring of muscle before he lathed it, his tongue teasingly light as he flicked it over Becker's entrance before plunging it inside him. He spent some considerable time licking and nibbling around Becker's arse, listening to his new lover's cries as he pushed back for more.
“Please, James,” Becker moaned. “Need you.”
James swallowed and nodded. God, he needed to be inside Becker right now. Common sense stopped him just before he tried to plunge into Becker dry. He sat back on his heels and glanced around for the lubricant and condom, he knew he'd put them somewhere. James ripped the condom open with his teeth and rolled it on, slicking himself with the lubricant before turning back to Becker. A Becker who was looking over his shoulder with a look of such need on his face that James had to bite his lip not to come there and then, although he still had to give his cock a quick squeeze.
James eased a lubricant-coated finger into Becker's heat, thrusting it gently into him and crooking it to find Becker's prostate. The full-body shiver Becker gave at that action had James smiling and he leaned closer to talk into Becker's ear. “You like that, Becker? You like me fingering you, opening you up ready for me to fuck you?”
The moans, sighs and pleas Becker uttered when James slowly added more fingers and stretched him had James' cock full and hard and oh so painful in his need to come and come right now. Need overtook sense and James abruptly pulled his fingers out of Becker only to plunge his cock inside him in one move. Only in the instant when he was buried to the hilt inside Becker's spasming arse did James freeze, recognising that the abrupt penetration must have hurt Becker. “Becker?”
Becker groaned in what James took to be extreme pain and he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and prepared to withdraw. Before James could move, he groaned when Becker clenched tightly around him, holding him firmly inside. “Please, James. Fuck me.”
James still hesitated until Becker began to fuck himself on his cock. The feel of that tight channel clinging to him as Becker squeezed hard around him, soon had James groaning and he gripped Becker's hips firmly as he began to move. Thrusting deeply into Becker before pulling almost all the way free, James listened to Becker crying out as he shoved back for more. It felt so bloody wonderful, the way Becker opened so completely for him and took all he had, seeming to suck him inside and cradle him within. Becker was so bloody eager to be taken and begged to be fucked hard. James knew he wouldn't last long, not in that sweet heat and the way Becker writhed and shuddered and clenched around him.
***
Those were some lovely memories and James was not surprised at his reaction to them. He glanced at his lover, but Becker was still snoring softly. James dropped a hand down to gently stroke his erection while his other hand stroked through Becker's hair, smiling as he felt his lover stir beneath his fingers.
Becker uttered a soft groan. “Shouldn't you be asleep, James? You've got an early morning meeting tomorrow.”
James rolled his eyes, wincing at how tired his voice sounded as he snapped at Becker. “I do know that.” He sighed, he also knew that neither were Becker's fault. “I'm sorry, Becks. I owe you so much for what you did for me today.”
Becker grinned, looking far too alert for this time of night. “Really?” He moved until he could see James and then smirked as he noticed what James' hand was up to. “Just how much?”
James gasped as Becker ran his fingertip down his chest and along his length, thrust gently into his lover's grip when Becker took him in hand. “Everything.”
Becker's thumb flicked James' slit and had his hips lifting for more. “Ooh, so I can have anything I want?”
Something in Becker's voice had James narrow his gaze at him, fighting the lovely feeling Becker's hand was creating as he tried to gather enough braincells together to think. The look in Becker's eye was familiar and James frantically considered his last comment to the soldier. Oh fuck. “Almost anything, Becks. I'm not getting you a tank.” James almost laughed at the disappointed pout that appeared on Becker's face, gasping instead when Becker roughly squeezed his cock in revenge. James knew he wouldn't be coming with the strangle-hold Becker had on him, but that knowledge didn't stop his hips rising as he sought his denied release. Reining in his need and assuming his calm, cool and in control persona, even as he sought more friction on his cock, James shook his head. “The minister isn't going to be happy with me tomorrow, Becks. After all, how many men would be when the woman they think loves them called them a root vegetable?”
Becker chuckled. “I thought it was a glove puppet.” He tilted his head in query, “But what has that got to do with you and my tank?”
James closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. “Because, in his opinion, if we hadn't been playing silly buggers and just worked together, it wouldn't have happened and he could have continued in blissful ignorance of her true opinion of him. This really isn't the time to ask him for a tank, no matter how happy it would make you.” He exhaled. “And you can rely on Christine not being finished yet, she'll make it up to the minister and get back on his good side.”
“And asking for a tank wouldn't look good when she makes another grab for the ARC?”
James nodded. “Precisely.” He rubbed at his forehead again, the dull ache of a migraine growing with every heartbeat. He smiled when Becker kissed him and ruffled his hair.
“Migraine?”
James nodded. “Just what I need on top of too little sleep.”
“And a meeting with those two,” Becker murmured softly before adding, “Take your tablets and then I'll make you forget all about the migraine and the bloody meeting.”
James smiled, he could cope with being tired tomorrow if it meant getting rid of the migraine. He swallowed his tablets without complaint and relaxed beneath Becker's lips, tongue and teeth as his lover kissed and nuzzled his way down towards James' straining cock. He gasped and thrust upwards as Becker's warm mouth surrounded him, swallowing around him and, oh God, pressing a finger against him, the tip just pushing inside.
James cracked his eyes open and gazed down at Becker. His mouth was stretched wide around him and his cheeks hollowing as he sucked hard. His hips rose helplessly and then he was gasping and groaning and coming hard. He snuffled contentedly as Becker pulled him close and he slipped into much needed sleep.
***
“Becker?” James called out as he entered his - their - flat, his façade cracking as his shoulders slumped and his gait faltered slightly when he heard no response and no longer had to pretend everything was fine. The meeting had been even worse than he had anticipated, the atmosphere between the minister and Christine had been positively Arctic. After having to play umpire during the meeting, he found even the act of pouring himself a glass of whisky too much effort and he just collapsed into an armchair with a groan.
Sometime later, James slowly woke to find himself held in strong arms against a firm chest. It took him a moment longer to become aware of a hand stroking his hair.
“Worse than you expected?” Becker's voice held more than a hint of concern as he nudged James' chin until he could peer into James' eyes.
“Mmm.” Forming words seemed too much effort for James and for once he couldn't bring himself to care.
“Right.” Becker paused before nodding. “Come on, James, on your feet. Let's get you into bed and then I'm going to take care of you.”
James didn't have the energy to argue with Becker and allowed his lover a free hand in stripping him and positioning him on his belly. He groaned as Becker's strong hands began to stroke across his shoulders, Becker's fingers pausing when he encountered knots that he expertly eased. Soon, his hands were stroking from James' shoulders down to his arse.
“I've decided what I want.”
James' brain was nowhere near its normal razor-edged self, as indicated by his response of “Uh?”
Becker's hands continued to move firmly across oiled skin. “For getting the ARC back for you.”
When Becker's hands lingered on his arse for a fraction longer than necessary, James managed, “I wouldn't object to being fucked.” James held his breath as soon as he realised what he'd said. Fuck! He'd never... he wouldn't have offered if he'd been more awake. But... if Becker wanted to, could he really go back on his offer now?
“What?”
Becker sounded surprised and it took James far longer than he was happy with to conclude that shagging him wasn't the reward Becker was after and relief flooded through him, swiftly followed by a slightly guilty feeling at that reaction.
“Not that it doesn't sound good, and if you're still offering later I might take you up on it,” Becker continued. “But that wasn't what I was thinking about.”
“I'm still not getting you a tank.” James knew his lover was still pining for a tank, although what use it would be at the ARC was beyond him, and it wasn't as if his lover needed to compensate for anything.
“Spoilsport,” Becker pouted before adding, “No, I was thinking of a holiday.”
James managed to crane his neck to look at his lover, trying to figure out if he'd just suggested what James thought he had. James couldn't go on holiday, no matter how much it appealed, not with Christine still after the ARC, not to mention the spectre of Helen Cutter flitting in and out of their lives to cause havoc. Before he could verbalise his disagreement, Becker hurried on.
“Please, James. Just think about it. You, me and sex. Lots and lots of sex.”
It sounded very appealing, but James hadn't got to his current position by not being a suspicious bastard. “And what brought on this sudden desire for a holiday?” A horrible thought occurred to him. “You aren't suggesting we join Cutter and Hart so you can protect them, I hope? What almost happened at the ARC wasn't your fault.”
Becker looked guilty for a moment before the first part of James' comment seemed to register. “No thanks, I want you to relax, not have a heart attack because of an argument with Cutter or because you overhear them shagging.”
“I could have done without that thought,” James muttered before he arched an eyebrow and added, “Although I believe that is the customary activity on one's honeymoon.”
Becker grinned before shaking his head. “Stop trying to change the subject. Now, the world won't end if you take a few days off, even a week.” When James' other eyebrow rose, Becker sighed. “OK, so it might, but Johnson won't have charmed the minister by then and,” he smiled, “at least we can happily shag until the end.”
James snorted, trust Becker to think of having sex as the world ended. “I have too much work...”
Becker pressed his finger to James' lips. “Please, James. Lorraine can arrange the booking and flights and you've said before that Jenny's quite capable of looking after the ARC without you and now that Captain Ryan's back on duty I don't have to worry about their security.” When James didn't reply, Becker continued, “Please, James, I think you're over-worked and far too stressed.” He took a deep breath before adding, “I don't want to lose you.”
“I do hope you don't expect me to be equally soppy?” James smiled softly. “You're not going to lose me, Becks, even if that bitch manages to somehow convince the minister about the ARC, we'll still be together. One way or another.” He sighed contentedly when Becker leaned over to kiss him before nuzzling a nipple, his talented fingers provoking needy moans from James when Becker found all his sensitive places. He knew Becker was just trying to persuade him to go along with his plans, but James saw no reason not to enjoy the attention.
“Please, James, let me look after you, just this once. Please.” Becker's hand rubbed soothing circles on James' belly as he continued to try and convince him to go along with his plan. “Pretty, pretty please, James.” James uttered a needy moan when Becker's voice dropped to a throaty growl. “I'll make it worth your time.” -
“I just bet you would,” James muttered, knowing his lover really would, before adding in a fonder tone, “You really are a shameless cockslut, aren't you?”
“Only for you,” Becker pledged before kissing James hard. “So... please, pretty, pretty please can we go on holiday?”
James snorted at him and felt Becker tense as he looked down in disappointment at James' apparent refusal. James briefly closed his eyes before he nudged Becker's chin up until his lover met his eyes. “I'm sorry, Becks, but I'd never have expected you to plead like that for a holiday. A tank, maybe, but a holiday?”
“Well, if a tank is still on offer...”
“No!” James smiled as he tugged Becker into his arms. “It bloody well isn't.” He knew he owed Becker everything and if his lover would agree to a holiday rather than a tank... he sighed, knowing that he would agree to Becker's request and not because Becker thought he needed a holiday. It was obvious to him that Becker blamed himself for him losing the ARC in the first place, for his lover always took the blame for things going wrong, whether it was his fault or not or even if it was entirely outside his control. He'd blamed himself for Helen's murderous intentions towards Cutter, although James knew that was partly his fault as he'd told Becker that protecting the team was his only job. If only he'd known how guilt-ridden Becker could be, he would have chosen his words with far more care... well, no he wouldn't have, not then.
Everyday since they had become a couple, James had tried to show Becker he was worth everything to him, but it was difficult when his lover seemed to have such a low opinion of himself. It hadn't taken James too long to discover the cause - a high-ranking military father with a low tolerance of 'un-manly' behaviour in his men, especially when it come to his gay son. Bastard.
Once he had discovered that, James had done all he could to make Becker realise he wasn't worthless because he occasionally made mistakes and failed, but it was hard when his father had done such a good job on his lover's confidence. All James could do was try and show Becker that he was absolutely perfect and everything James had ever wanted in a lover. Maybe a holiday would be the perfect way to show Becker how much he meant to him? Time alone, just the two of them spending their days and especially their nights with each other. “I think a holiday sounds a wonderful idea, Becks. Just spending time with you.”
Becker looked slightly suspicious at James' sudden agreement. “James?”
James tugged Becker into a deep kiss. “Can't I just want to spend time with my gorgeous lover?” When Becker's expression didn't change, James added, “I obviously haven't made it clear to you, Becks, but you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You want to be with me, snark and all.”
“It grows on you.”
“Mmm.” James almost sighed, understanding all too well what Becker was trying to do. His lover never accepted praise, always too busy looking for the errors he had made. Well, James would just have to convince him that he was absolutely perfect and the holiday would be the ideal place for it. James smiled as he recalled an offer made by an old friend. “Becks, let me make the plans.”
“I wasn't going to book the same place as Cutter and Hart.”
“I know you weren't.” James pulled Becker in for a kiss. “I have an old friend, I was best man at his wedding and he was mine.” He made Becker look at him when his lover tried to look away at the mention of James' previous marriage. “I'm with you now, Becks, not her.” He waited until Becker nodded before continuing, “As I was trying to say, he's got a private place in the Caribbean, just a few members of staff to worry about. And I have a standing invitation to stay.”
“With your wife?” Becker muttered.
“No, love,” James corrected him. “Marcus made the offer before I married her and I never had the time to take her there.” He paused to meet Becker's eyes. “I want to go there with you.”
Part 2