Primeval fic: A Change Could Do You Good
Title: A Change Could Do You Good
Author:SCWLC
Disclaimer: Wish I owned some of this. But I don't. Nor is this making me money.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Stephen. Connor. Sex pollen.
AN: So, I have given in, and done it. The Great Smut Trope. Sex pollen. I should be ashamed, shouldn't I?
*******************************
Connor sat to the back of the small cave, watching Stephen as he paced, hands constantly moving from his sides to his pockets to his hair and back around again, no part of the man still. There were only two things Connor knew for certain at that moment. The first was that this was all Helen's fault, because whatever she'd hinted or said to Stephen had led the other man to follow her through that anomaly. He didn't know what she'd done to him, just that when Connor had followed him through after seeing CCTV footage of the pair of them going in, he'd found Stephen in the state he was in now, not even aware of the therapod sneaking up on him.
It had been Connor who'd had to save Stephen for a change, discovering that the anomaly had gone while he was getting the man away from the dinosaur.
Now that they were holed up for the night, hoping that they didn't wind up missing an appearance of the anomaly, the other thing Connor was sure of was that this was just . . . there was no other phrase for it. It was fucked up, this situation.
"Stephen, maybe you should sit down a bit, get some rest?" Connor offered.
Stephen glared. "I don't think, if you were in my place, you'd want to get some rest."
"True enough," Connor admitted. "But I also don't think fretting yourself to pieces is going to help either." He took a deep breath and suggested what he really thought, because things were bad enough and he needed Stephen being . . . well . . . all Stepheny and superhero tracker man, not like he was now. "Look. I've got an iPod, I won't look. Just wank already."
"What?" Stephen snapped out.
"Or are you upset about something other than that hard-on?" Connor asked. Really, at this point, Stephen had got himself into this stupidity and Connor wasn't going to offer sympathy about it. Well, as long as Stephen was going to be stupid.
"Helen did . . . something," Stephen ground out. "I know she must have known those plants would do this to me."
"I get that," Connor said. "Really you explained it. Sex pollen. Comes up in all the sci-fi porn eventually. The point is, you clearly can't do anything right now but fret about it. You're not shagging Helen, you're obviously not shagging me," the look Stephen shot him was indecipherable, but Connor figured that any semblance of lust there was coming from the bloody sex pollen and didn't count. "So, just get over yourself and wank so we can both get some sleep."
Stephen huffed, which wasn't a sort of reaction that suited him at all, too petulant for one, and flopped down, apparently irritated enough to stay awake all night lying there on some sort of principle. Connor shrugged and lay back on the uncomfortable ground, hating that he was the rational one right then, because he really rather wanted to panic while Stephen was all heroic and whatnot.
Well, that and he sort of wished that the lusty looks Stephen was levelling his way from time to time were real, rather than just sex pollen-induced. Especially since being five feet away from a Stephen Hart who was to all appearances incredibly aroused was playing hell with Connor's own libido. He fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming about Stephen naked and Stephen touching him.
They were in that poor woman's home where the anomaly had opened up to the Cretaceous sea. But instead of SFs everywhere and Abby, it was just the two of them waiting for Cutter to come back. Connor turned to his laptop where he was looking into the pipes and sewer systems leading away from there when arms slipped around him from behind, a strong, hard body pressing into his back. Connor sighed as a mouth began to gently nibble on his neck, aware of an erect cock pressing into his arse, feeling himself get hard in response. He turned around and that clever mouth was on his now . . .
. . . talented tongue twining with his own and Connor's hips pressed up, felt a returning thrust that was so good, so hard. His hands slid down to cup Stephen's arse, and pull him down harder, grinding them together.
The sharp pain as Stephen bit his lip and soothed it with his tongue after woke Connor up rather sharply. "Stephen?" He shoved the other man off, scrambling backwards. The cave was dark, but light from the full moon was coming in, and Connor swallowed sharply as he took in Stephen's face. Because Stephen no longer looked irritated and a little distressed. There was something in his eyes that looked a little crazed and he crept towards Connor, panting.
"I know you're interested, Connor," he purred. "Don't think I haven't noticed."
"Maybe," Connor admitted, "But you're not yourself right now Stephen. I'd be taking advantage." He tried, because it was clear there was something going wrong in Stephen's brain chemistry, "Listen. If you're so far gone as to try me, give a go at wanking. If you need that, it'll help, right?"
Stephen lunged, and Connor just wasn't fast enough to evade him. "Maybe I don't want to masturbate Connor," he said. Then he leaned in and kissed the geek he had pinned. He was very good at it. Worse, Connor did want it. He'd wanted it for a while, but had known better than to pretend he could land Stephen Hart, even if the man were interested in men at all. For a moment his mind was blank to anything but Stephen's lips and tongue, Stephen's erection pressed to his hip, his own aching cock rubbing against Stephen, the muscled body pressed to his own.
It took every bit of willpower for him to pull away again. "Stephen, you have to think," he pleaded. "You don't -- ah!"
"I do want this," Stephen murmured in his ear, slender strong fingers cupped around Connor's dick, making his eyes roll back in his head and his hips roll up into that hand.
With a whimper of need, Connor flung himself forward, kissing Stephen again, his hands tugging at Stephen's shirt, feeling his trousers' zip lowered and Stephen's hands slipping up again to tug at Connor's layered shirts and waistcoat. For a moment, he pulled away to get them off, tugging Stephen's own trousers open at the same time, and then coming back together with the delightful feel of bare skin on skin.
Connor wasn't listening very much to Stephen's muttered words of encouragement and want, until something caught his attention, ". . . never done someone up the arse, not really sure about the details, but how hard can that be?" He didn't really catch on until a dry finger started poking at his arse.
"Oh, no," Connor was brought to earth with a bump. He had both been the one on the bottom and the one on the top with that, and it was not something he wanted someone not clear on the details doing. "Stephen, no. That'll hurt. Me. If you don't know --"
Stephen cut him off, "Then you fuck me," he proposed.
There was a dead silence as Connor tried to process this upending of everything he'd ever thought about Stephen Hart. "You . . . you'd let me . . . I . . ."
Something in Stephen seemed to crumple. Whatever the stuff was that Helen had got into him, it had done a number on Stephen that shocked Connor. "Connor, please. Please. I need this. I need . . . I can't . . . I need someone. Not just wanking not just . . . please."
Abby had charged Connor, while he was at the chemist's for some allergy medication, to pick up her favourite brand of lip balm. He still had the several packages of it in his jacket pocket. It was something. "Okay," he said, staring at Stephen. "Okay." He didn't say anything more as he cracked the packaging open and unscrewed the lid, using his hands to manoeuvre Stephen to his hands and knees, then using the balm in lieu of lube. One hand on Stephen's cock, the other gently circling the puckered opening, then slowly sliding in. Stephen's hips shoved back, and it was all Connor could do to keep control of the situation.
A harsh sob erupted from Stephen's throat. "Please," he moaned. "Harder. Connor, I need . . ." he trailed off and Connor added the second finger. Slowly, carefully. Stephen might hate him for this after, but he wasn't going to make it worse by hurting him. Now the third, and Connor finally located Stephen's prostate, sparking a groan and the helpless thrusting sped up.
Connor was so hard he was hurting, and Stephen looked gorgeous and sexy like this and Connor took a moment to imprint this in his memory, because when this was all over, Stephen would probably hate him. He used the last of the lip balm, coating his own cock.
Then he was easing the head of his cock past the ring of muscle and it felt so good, he had to focus, reciting the opening of Hamlet in Klingon in his head. clinging to some sort of control. Stephen didn't seem to care, slamming backwards onto Connor, breaking Connor's concentration and sending them both into fast and furious pounding thrusts. Connor put his hand back on Stephen's erection, making the older man break his rhythm a moment before they both synchronised again Stephen incoherent, then coming, his whole body seizing up under Connor, bucking and twisting and the way his arse tightened up in those moments pulling Connor over after.
Stephen shuddered, spasming in the aftermath, shaking too much to clean himself up or anything. Connor sacrificed a packet of tissues to that, getting Stephen zipped up again, even as the normally super-alert tracker slid into sleep. He draped Stephen's t-shirt over him, finished redressing himself, then went to sit by the cave entrance.
A few hours later he heard Stephen moving around inside the cave, then suddenly he was there, sitting beside Connor. "So, I've been composing my resignation from the ARC," Connor offered. "I mean, assuming the anomaly reopens and we get home."
"Why?" Stephen asked, his voice perfectly even. Connor turned to look at him, but that handsome face was as inscrutable as the voice, the blue eyes blank.
"Because I don't want this to affect everything, and I'm pretty sure it will," Connor replied. "I know I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have . . . have taken advantage."
"I asked you to do it," Stephen said.
Without a bit of expression in his face or voice, Connor couldn't read whether that was absolution or accusation. "You weren't in your right mind. It vitiates consent," he replied. "Anyhow, I can't see this not making things weird. And anyhow, it's not like you, Abby and Cutter really think I'm much of anything but a glorified lab tech. I'll ask Cutter to give me a letter of recommendation so I can look for a new advisor."
"And you think Nick won't wonder why?"
"I'll tell him I just realised how dangerous and scary this all is. How hard can it be to convince someone that I'm a coward?" Connor said with a shrug.
Some sort of spark lit behind Stephen's eyes. "Damned hard. You forget. We all saw you step between us and Tom. Nick saw you do that. Saw you let him get close to you even though you damn well knew he could have killed you."
"So, I'm stupid," Connor said. "I couldn't let him die without . . . he deserved to . . ." Tom's death still hurt.
"Not good enough," Stephen declared. "I wouldn't believe that, and neither will Nick."
"Are you trying to talk me into staying?" Connor asked, baffled. "Stephen, I as good as r-"
Stephen was shaking his head. "No. Don't say it and don't think it. I won't let you think that, Connor." Finally an expression crossed his face. It was a wry smile. "And maybe it's time I let go of Helen and tried something different."
It took a moment for that to get through Connor's mind. Then he felt his jaw drop. "You're . . . you can't be serious. This," he gestured at them, their surroundings and a fluttery gesture meant to indicate the sex pollen, "This is not the basis of a relationship!"
"Maybe not," Stephen said. "But you're more than you like to let on, Connor."
"You . . . you're a romantic," he accused. "I don't believe it. Stephen Hart, a romantic."
Stephen grinned. "Well, don't go ruining my reputation."
This was one of the top ten weirdest things that had ever happened to Connor. And since his life now included rips in the space-time continuum, that was a pretty impressive sort of weird. But he'd had a crush on Stephen ever since that first day when the professor's assistant had walked into the class, declaring that he was going to be teaching in Cutter's stead for the forseeable future. "I think it'll be plenty ruined if anyone catches us at it," Connor said. "But maybe we should try something a little more conventional to start? Dinner and a film, maybe?"
"I think we're going a little backwards," Stephen chuckled, "But sure."
Helen may have had a lot to answer for, but in the end, he just might thank her for this.
Go to the Primeval Archive Page
Author:SCWLC
Disclaimer: Wish I owned some of this. But I don't. Nor is this making me money.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Stephen. Connor. Sex pollen.
AN: So, I have given in, and done it. The Great Smut Trope. Sex pollen. I should be ashamed, shouldn't I?
*******************************
Connor sat to the back of the small cave, watching Stephen as he paced, hands constantly moving from his sides to his pockets to his hair and back around again, no part of the man still. There were only two things Connor knew for certain at that moment. The first was that this was all Helen's fault, because whatever she'd hinted or said to Stephen had led the other man to follow her through that anomaly. He didn't know what she'd done to him, just that when Connor had followed him through after seeing CCTV footage of the pair of them going in, he'd found Stephen in the state he was in now, not even aware of the therapod sneaking up on him.
It had been Connor who'd had to save Stephen for a change, discovering that the anomaly had gone while he was getting the man away from the dinosaur.
Now that they were holed up for the night, hoping that they didn't wind up missing an appearance of the anomaly, the other thing Connor was sure of was that this was just . . . there was no other phrase for it. It was fucked up, this situation.
"Stephen, maybe you should sit down a bit, get some rest?" Connor offered.
Stephen glared. "I don't think, if you were in my place, you'd want to get some rest."
"True enough," Connor admitted. "But I also don't think fretting yourself to pieces is going to help either." He took a deep breath and suggested what he really thought, because things were bad enough and he needed Stephen being . . . well . . . all Stepheny and superhero tracker man, not like he was now. "Look. I've got an iPod, I won't look. Just wank already."
"What?" Stephen snapped out.
"Or are you upset about something other than that hard-on?" Connor asked. Really, at this point, Stephen had got himself into this stupidity and Connor wasn't going to offer sympathy about it. Well, as long as Stephen was going to be stupid.
"Helen did . . . something," Stephen ground out. "I know she must have known those plants would do this to me."
"I get that," Connor said. "Really you explained it. Sex pollen. Comes up in all the sci-fi porn eventually. The point is, you clearly can't do anything right now but fret about it. You're not shagging Helen, you're obviously not shagging me," the look Stephen shot him was indecipherable, but Connor figured that any semblance of lust there was coming from the bloody sex pollen and didn't count. "So, just get over yourself and wank so we can both get some sleep."
Stephen huffed, which wasn't a sort of reaction that suited him at all, too petulant for one, and flopped down, apparently irritated enough to stay awake all night lying there on some sort of principle. Connor shrugged and lay back on the uncomfortable ground, hating that he was the rational one right then, because he really rather wanted to panic while Stephen was all heroic and whatnot.
Well, that and he sort of wished that the lusty looks Stephen was levelling his way from time to time were real, rather than just sex pollen-induced. Especially since being five feet away from a Stephen Hart who was to all appearances incredibly aroused was playing hell with Connor's own libido. He fell into an uneasy sleep, dreaming about Stephen naked and Stephen touching him.
They were in that poor woman's home where the anomaly had opened up to the Cretaceous sea. But instead of SFs everywhere and Abby, it was just the two of them waiting for Cutter to come back. Connor turned to his laptop where he was looking into the pipes and sewer systems leading away from there when arms slipped around him from behind, a strong, hard body pressing into his back. Connor sighed as a mouth began to gently nibble on his neck, aware of an erect cock pressing into his arse, feeling himself get hard in response. He turned around and that clever mouth was on his now . . .
. . . talented tongue twining with his own and Connor's hips pressed up, felt a returning thrust that was so good, so hard. His hands slid down to cup Stephen's arse, and pull him down harder, grinding them together.
The sharp pain as Stephen bit his lip and soothed it with his tongue after woke Connor up rather sharply. "Stephen?" He shoved the other man off, scrambling backwards. The cave was dark, but light from the full moon was coming in, and Connor swallowed sharply as he took in Stephen's face. Because Stephen no longer looked irritated and a little distressed. There was something in his eyes that looked a little crazed and he crept towards Connor, panting.
"I know you're interested, Connor," he purred. "Don't think I haven't noticed."
"Maybe," Connor admitted, "But you're not yourself right now Stephen. I'd be taking advantage." He tried, because it was clear there was something going wrong in Stephen's brain chemistry, "Listen. If you're so far gone as to try me, give a go at wanking. If you need that, it'll help, right?"
Stephen lunged, and Connor just wasn't fast enough to evade him. "Maybe I don't want to masturbate Connor," he said. Then he leaned in and kissed the geek he had pinned. He was very good at it. Worse, Connor did want it. He'd wanted it for a while, but had known better than to pretend he could land Stephen Hart, even if the man were interested in men at all. For a moment his mind was blank to anything but Stephen's lips and tongue, Stephen's erection pressed to his hip, his own aching cock rubbing against Stephen, the muscled body pressed to his own.
It took every bit of willpower for him to pull away again. "Stephen, you have to think," he pleaded. "You don't -- ah!"
"I do want this," Stephen murmured in his ear, slender strong fingers cupped around Connor's dick, making his eyes roll back in his head and his hips roll up into that hand.
With a whimper of need, Connor flung himself forward, kissing Stephen again, his hands tugging at Stephen's shirt, feeling his trousers' zip lowered and Stephen's hands slipping up again to tug at Connor's layered shirts and waistcoat. For a moment, he pulled away to get them off, tugging Stephen's own trousers open at the same time, and then coming back together with the delightful feel of bare skin on skin.
Connor wasn't listening very much to Stephen's muttered words of encouragement and want, until something caught his attention, ". . . never done someone up the arse, not really sure about the details, but how hard can that be?" He didn't really catch on until a dry finger started poking at his arse.
"Oh, no," Connor was brought to earth with a bump. He had both been the one on the bottom and the one on the top with that, and it was not something he wanted someone not clear on the details doing. "Stephen, no. That'll hurt. Me. If you don't know --"
Stephen cut him off, "Then you fuck me," he proposed.
There was a dead silence as Connor tried to process this upending of everything he'd ever thought about Stephen Hart. "You . . . you'd let me . . . I . . ."
Something in Stephen seemed to crumple. Whatever the stuff was that Helen had got into him, it had done a number on Stephen that shocked Connor. "Connor, please. Please. I need this. I need . . . I can't . . . I need someone. Not just wanking not just . . . please."
Abby had charged Connor, while he was at the chemist's for some allergy medication, to pick up her favourite brand of lip balm. He still had the several packages of it in his jacket pocket. It was something. "Okay," he said, staring at Stephen. "Okay." He didn't say anything more as he cracked the packaging open and unscrewed the lid, using his hands to manoeuvre Stephen to his hands and knees, then using the balm in lieu of lube. One hand on Stephen's cock, the other gently circling the puckered opening, then slowly sliding in. Stephen's hips shoved back, and it was all Connor could do to keep control of the situation.
A harsh sob erupted from Stephen's throat. "Please," he moaned. "Harder. Connor, I need . . ." he trailed off and Connor added the second finger. Slowly, carefully. Stephen might hate him for this after, but he wasn't going to make it worse by hurting him. Now the third, and Connor finally located Stephen's prostate, sparking a groan and the helpless thrusting sped up.
Connor was so hard he was hurting, and Stephen looked gorgeous and sexy like this and Connor took a moment to imprint this in his memory, because when this was all over, Stephen would probably hate him. He used the last of the lip balm, coating his own cock.
Then he was easing the head of his cock past the ring of muscle and it felt so good, he had to focus, reciting the opening of Hamlet in Klingon in his head. clinging to some sort of control. Stephen didn't seem to care, slamming backwards onto Connor, breaking Connor's concentration and sending them both into fast and furious pounding thrusts. Connor put his hand back on Stephen's erection, making the older man break his rhythm a moment before they both synchronised again Stephen incoherent, then coming, his whole body seizing up under Connor, bucking and twisting and the way his arse tightened up in those moments pulling Connor over after.
Stephen shuddered, spasming in the aftermath, shaking too much to clean himself up or anything. Connor sacrificed a packet of tissues to that, getting Stephen zipped up again, even as the normally super-alert tracker slid into sleep. He draped Stephen's t-shirt over him, finished redressing himself, then went to sit by the cave entrance.
A few hours later he heard Stephen moving around inside the cave, then suddenly he was there, sitting beside Connor. "So, I've been composing my resignation from the ARC," Connor offered. "I mean, assuming the anomaly reopens and we get home."
"Why?" Stephen asked, his voice perfectly even. Connor turned to look at him, but that handsome face was as inscrutable as the voice, the blue eyes blank.
"Because I don't want this to affect everything, and I'm pretty sure it will," Connor replied. "I know I shouldn't have done that, shouldn't have . . . have taken advantage."
"I asked you to do it," Stephen said.
Without a bit of expression in his face or voice, Connor couldn't read whether that was absolution or accusation. "You weren't in your right mind. It vitiates consent," he replied. "Anyhow, I can't see this not making things weird. And anyhow, it's not like you, Abby and Cutter really think I'm much of anything but a glorified lab tech. I'll ask Cutter to give me a letter of recommendation so I can look for a new advisor."
"And you think Nick won't wonder why?"
"I'll tell him I just realised how dangerous and scary this all is. How hard can it be to convince someone that I'm a coward?" Connor said with a shrug.
Some sort of spark lit behind Stephen's eyes. "Damned hard. You forget. We all saw you step between us and Tom. Nick saw you do that. Saw you let him get close to you even though you damn well knew he could have killed you."
"So, I'm stupid," Connor said. "I couldn't let him die without . . . he deserved to . . ." Tom's death still hurt.
"Not good enough," Stephen declared. "I wouldn't believe that, and neither will Nick."
"Are you trying to talk me into staying?" Connor asked, baffled. "Stephen, I as good as r-"
Stephen was shaking his head. "No. Don't say it and don't think it. I won't let you think that, Connor." Finally an expression crossed his face. It was a wry smile. "And maybe it's time I let go of Helen and tried something different."
It took a moment for that to get through Connor's mind. Then he felt his jaw drop. "You're . . . you can't be serious. This," he gestured at them, their surroundings and a fluttery gesture meant to indicate the sex pollen, "This is not the basis of a relationship!"
"Maybe not," Stephen said. "But you're more than you like to let on, Connor."
"You . . . you're a romantic," he accused. "I don't believe it. Stephen Hart, a romantic."
Stephen grinned. "Well, don't go ruining my reputation."
This was one of the top ten weirdest things that had ever happened to Connor. And since his life now included rips in the space-time continuum, that was a pretty impressive sort of weird. But he'd had a crush on Stephen ever since that first day when the professor's assistant had walked into the class, declaring that he was going to be teaching in Cutter's stead for the forseeable future. "I think it'll be plenty ruined if anyone catches us at it," Connor said. "But maybe we should try something a little more conventional to start? Dinner and a film, maybe?"
"I think we're going a little backwards," Stephen chuckled, "But sure."
Helen may have had a lot to answer for, but in the end, he just might thank her for this.
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