The Morning After - Primeval Fanfic
Title: The Morning After
Author: Clea2011
Rating: 18
Characters: Ryan/Stephen
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, I'm just writing for fun and non-profit.
Spoilers: None
Word count: 2329
Warnings: If you aren't comfortable with slash then it's your choice whether or not you read on.
Summary: Alcohol is a thing of evil.... sometimes.
A/N: Written for the
primeval_denial 2nd Team Fest and for fififolle who asked Can he get off with someone in an angsty, drunken haze after he loses a man and then regret it after?
Thanks to
fififolle for beta-reading.
The Morning After
Hangovers. There wasn't much else that felt more miserable than waking up with your mouth feeling like sandpaper and your head throbbing fit to burst and that horrible feeling when you moved your head one way and the room moved the other. And then you move just that bit too much and realise it's time to head for the bathroom and mostly miss the pan in your rush to get there in time. It must have been a good night...
Ryan couldn't actually remember a great deal about the previous night. Some of the guys had been heading into town for a drink to wind down after the latest dinosaur incident, and he'd joined them, glad of the excuse not to go home. Dinosaurs. He thought back, checking. Yes, that was really what he did, it wasn't some hallucination from the previous evening. They'd been herding an angry triceratops back through to the... oh, he couldn't remember which era even when he was sober, probably couldn't even pronounce it while he felt like this. Herding the beast through while it bellowed and charged at them, and all he'd been able to think about the whole time was Adam and how he'd come home the previous night to find him sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his cases already loaded up in the car and ready to go.
Six months they'd been together. Six months, it was almost a record for Ryan. Then Adam had got bored, like they always did, tired of the long hours that the soldier worked, tired of the calls in the middle of the night that woke both of them up. Tired of believing that he wasn't the most important thing in Ryan's life, even though he was. It was hard to think that when the person you loved always put their job first. And Adam had found someone else, and left. At least he'd had the decency to wait and tell him to his face. Sometimes, in the past, there had just been notes. Or nothing at all, he'd got home and it was just an empty house that greeted him. It made it worse, somehow, the fact that Adam had treated him with a bit of respect and been man enough to stand there and tell him face to face. It meant he'd lost something that might have been worth keeping.
He washed his face, cleaned his teeth in a vain attempt to rid his mouth of the taste, then found some ibuprofen in the bathroom cabinet and washed them down with tap water. Perhaps if he'd drunk more of that last night he wouldn't feel so groggy now. It would, he thought, be just his luck to get an anomaly alert now. He probably wasn't even fit to drive. That would be a great start to the new posting. Less than a month in and having to call for a car. Claudia Brown didn't strike him as the sort of person who would be very impressed with that. She wasn't to know he didn't make a habit of it.
God, he looked rough. Maybe hanging that cabinet with the mirror doors right over the sink wasn't such a great idea. Not today, anyway. He swallowed another glass of water, hoping it was going to stay down because his stomach wasn't feeling too clever either. Still, as long as there were no alerts he could just go back to bed and sleep it off.
He wandered back to the bedroom, rubbing at his eyes, still trying to remember the night before. The place was a mess, he'd left his shirt lying on the landing, one of his shoes was at the top of the stairs.
Except, that wasn't his shoe. And come to think of it, that didn't look much like the shirt he had been wearing when he changed into his civvies after work last night either.
There was a noise from the bedroom. Faint, like the mattress shifting, but he heard it. With his head thudding the way it was at that moment, a pin dropping would probably sound like an explosion. Half-hopeful, half-dreading what he would find, Ryan peered around the edge of the door and looked into the bedroom.
Oh shit. There was someone else in his bed, and that dark spiky hair definitely didn't belong to Adam.
Whoever it was lay facing away from him, on their side, still asleep if the deep and even breathing was anything to go by. So Ryan had time, if he was quiet, to work this through and decide what to do. If only his head would stop pounding, so he could think. He stayed on the landing, on the other side of the bedroom wall, trying to remember what had happened. Beer. There had been a lot of beer. But he could handle that, drink any of his men under the table, he'd proved it time and again.
His first concern was that it might be one of his men, which would cause a far worse headache than the one currently beating his brain out. He forced himself to look again, mentally crossing each of them off. Toned and tall, he knew who it reminded him of but he wasn't going to get that lucky, no matter how many... sambucas... now he remembered someone had come up with the bright idea of a round of sambuca shots. And then another, at which stage some joker started lighting them. Actually, that might have been him, and that would explain the small burn on his hand. And then they'd just taken the bottle and let the barman tally it up as they went. He had a horrible feeling that might have all gone on his credit card. Still, right now that was the least of his problems.
The man in the bed shifted, then rolled over onto his back, sprawling over the sheets. Not a lot of room left for doubt, and how did he manage to still look good even rumpled and hungover first thing in the morning?
Oh God, he'd slept with one of the science team and broken his own code of keeping work and private life separate. Worse than that, he'd slept with Stephen Hart and couldn't even damn well remember it!
This was not good. Well, actually it was great, but not if he couldn't remember what happened. And he couldn't face Stephen not knowing. What if he'd just crashed there for the night? What if it had been crap, which, given Ryan's state of intoxication last night, seemed a distinct possibility?
Another flash of memory: they'd been the last two in the pub, he'd managed to out-drink his men yet again. And then those blue eyes looking at him questioningly, following up the silent question with a kiss, hesitant at first and then... not so much.
He clung to that memory. His physical headache was starting to fade, that was something. He needed to shower, he reeked of stale sweat and old alcohol and if that was right, if Stephen really had made the first move, then he wanted to be the best he could be when he faced the other man again. If there was any chance it wasn't just a one-night stand that they were both going to regret, then he was going to take it.
As he passed the stairwell again, he could see his jeans lying in a crumpled heap on the hall carpet. That brought back another memory, Stephen dropping to his knees with the front door barely closed and the taxi probably still on the driveway, and already giving him what he'd been promised in the pub.
And then it got hazy but he could remember enough to know it had been a bloody good blowjob, and he was getting hard again just remembering it. But beyond that there was nothing.
God, he hoped he hadn't just fallen asleep. It had to be Stephen bloody Hart, didn't it? He couldn't have just got plastered and picked up some random bloke from the pub. No, it had to be the hottest member of the science team, the one he'd barely been able to take his eyes off since the first time he saw him. Small wonder Adam had left, really, he'd probably sensed it... Oh, what if there wasn't anyone else and he'd just left because it was better to be the one doing the dumping? No. Ryan had seen the other bloke sitting out in the car, waiting. Adam was history, and he was slightly ashamed of how quickly it didn't matter.
The shower was refreshingly wet and steamy, and he stepped into the spray gratefully, letting the water pour over him, washing away some of his tiredness. He was still thinking about last night in the hallway, and closed his hand around his cock, pumping himself to full hardness and wishing it was Stephen's mouth he was fucking again instead. The real thing was just lying there in his bed, naked and dishevelled and...
Ryan opened his eyes as the shower cubicle door squeaked open behind him. Stephen was still pretty dishevelled and definitely still naked, but he was grinning cheerfully at the sight in front of him.
That didn't look like the expression of someone who thought they'd made a big mistake. It actually looked as if he was pleased to be there... very pleased, if Stephen's growing erection was any indication, and the way he was moving in for a kiss. He was like a predator, stalking, and just for once Ryan had no objections to being the prey. Someone as pretty as Hart was going to be used to getting exactly what he wanted, because who was going to say no? Ryan returned the kiss hungrily, drawing Stephen up into his arms, and pulling him round so that he was propped against the corner of the two tiled walls. He had a feeling the plastic side of the cubicle wouldn't stand up to what was going to happen next, and didn't particularly want to have to do a repair job later.
"Could've woken me," Stephen complained.
Ryan shut him up with another firm kiss, pushing him hard against the wall and rubbing up against him, the warm water still pouring down on them. It was going to sound weak if he tried to explain, and he had a feeling weak wasn't going to have any place in this relationship, if that was what it was going to be. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later as Stephen broke away and turned to face the wall, pushing his arse back to rub at Ryan's cock. If that invitation left room for any doubts they were washed away a moment later when his new lover gazed back at him over his shoulder.
"Fuck me, Tom," he pretty much begged. "Want you inside me again, last night was so good."
Ryan really wished he could remember it. He was never drinking sambuca ever again. He squeezed out a handful of shower gel, and began to rub slowly at Stephen's hole, then carefully introduced a finger. Stephen groaned and pushed back at him eagerly.
"God, just do it, I'm ready!"
Ryan doubted that, and wasn't going to screw this up by hurting him. "I'll be the judge of that," he growled, and carried on working at him, slipping in a second finger and pushing deeper, exploring until he found the little nub of pleasure. Stephen gasped, arching against him, panting heavily and bracing himself against the wall.
"Okay?"
"Christ, yes! Just hurry up and fuck me!"
Ryan pushed himself carefully past the tight ring of muscle, easing his way in until he was flush against Stephen, gripping the other man's hips to steady himself.
"Still okay?"
His only response was a nod and a whimper as Ryan pulled back and then thrust deep again, trying to get the angle right, drawing gasps of pleasure from Stephen as he did so. He changed the angle again, and this time nailed the prostate, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from his lover.
Ryan thrust faster, burying himself deeper and harder inside that beautiful body, until suddenly Stephen cried out and came hard and fast against the wall, clenching tight around Ryan as he did so and tipping him over into a shattering orgasm.
Spent, they sank down together on the floor of the shower, a tangle of arms and legs. Ryan tipped his head back into the spray, then found Stephen leaning in to steal a kiss which he returned with interest.
"That," Ryan breathed when he could speak again. "Was bloody wonderful." He reached up to turn off the shower. Stephen was looking at him intently.
"I wondered, when I woke up and you'd gone... Thought you'd sobered up and regretted it." There was an uncertainty in Stephen's face as he said it that Ryan had never seen before. Time for admissions then. Ryan's track record on relationships was poor, but even he knew when it was time to take the guards down. Just a little bit, at least.
"I do," he began, then continued quickly as he saw Stephen's reaction. "I can't remember anything past you giving me a blow-job in the hallway. And I really, really want to remember."
Stephen nodded, unable to hide the relief. "I remember," he assured him. "And if you can't... well I'll just have to remind you!" He got to his feet and opened the shower door. A blast of cooler air hit them and Stephen stepped out, grabbing a couple of towels and flinging one back at Ryan. "I want breakfast though. Don't want you thinking I'm cheap!"
Ryan wrapped the towel around himself as he followed his lover back to the bedroom. He didn't plan on them eating anytime soon.
Stephen Hart was just the best hangover cure.
*****
Author: Clea2011
Rating: 18
Characters: Ryan/Stephen
Disclaimer: Primeval belongs to Impossible Pictures, I'm just writing for fun and non-profit.
Spoilers: None
Word count: 2329
Warnings: If you aren't comfortable with slash then it's your choice whether or not you read on.
Summary: Alcohol is a thing of evil.... sometimes.
A/N: Written for the
primeval_denial 2nd Team Fest and for fififolle who asked Can he get off with someone in an angsty, drunken haze after he loses a man and then regret it after?
Thanks to
fififolle for beta-reading.
The Morning After
Hangovers. There wasn't much else that felt more miserable than waking up with your mouth feeling like sandpaper and your head throbbing fit to burst and that horrible feeling when you moved your head one way and the room moved the other. And then you move just that bit too much and realise it's time to head for the bathroom and mostly miss the pan in your rush to get there in time. It must have been a good night...
Ryan couldn't actually remember a great deal about the previous night. Some of the guys had been heading into town for a drink to wind down after the latest dinosaur incident, and he'd joined them, glad of the excuse not to go home. Dinosaurs. He thought back, checking. Yes, that was really what he did, it wasn't some hallucination from the previous evening. They'd been herding an angry triceratops back through to the... oh, he couldn't remember which era even when he was sober, probably couldn't even pronounce it while he felt like this. Herding the beast through while it bellowed and charged at them, and all he'd been able to think about the whole time was Adam and how he'd come home the previous night to find him sitting at the bottom of the stairs with his cases already loaded up in the car and ready to go.
Six months they'd been together. Six months, it was almost a record for Ryan. Then Adam had got bored, like they always did, tired of the long hours that the soldier worked, tired of the calls in the middle of the night that woke both of them up. Tired of believing that he wasn't the most important thing in Ryan's life, even though he was. It was hard to think that when the person you loved always put their job first. And Adam had found someone else, and left. At least he'd had the decency to wait and tell him to his face. Sometimes, in the past, there had just been notes. Or nothing at all, he'd got home and it was just an empty house that greeted him. It made it worse, somehow, the fact that Adam had treated him with a bit of respect and been man enough to stand there and tell him face to face. It meant he'd lost something that might have been worth keeping.
He washed his face, cleaned his teeth in a vain attempt to rid his mouth of the taste, then found some ibuprofen in the bathroom cabinet and washed them down with tap water. Perhaps if he'd drunk more of that last night he wouldn't feel so groggy now. It would, he thought, be just his luck to get an anomaly alert now. He probably wasn't even fit to drive. That would be a great start to the new posting. Less than a month in and having to call for a car. Claudia Brown didn't strike him as the sort of person who would be very impressed with that. She wasn't to know he didn't make a habit of it.
God, he looked rough. Maybe hanging that cabinet with the mirror doors right over the sink wasn't such a great idea. Not today, anyway. He swallowed another glass of water, hoping it was going to stay down because his stomach wasn't feeling too clever either. Still, as long as there were no alerts he could just go back to bed and sleep it off.
He wandered back to the bedroom, rubbing at his eyes, still trying to remember the night before. The place was a mess, he'd left his shirt lying on the landing, one of his shoes was at the top of the stairs.
Except, that wasn't his shoe. And come to think of it, that didn't look much like the shirt he had been wearing when he changed into his civvies after work last night either.
There was a noise from the bedroom. Faint, like the mattress shifting, but he heard it. With his head thudding the way it was at that moment, a pin dropping would probably sound like an explosion. Half-hopeful, half-dreading what he would find, Ryan peered around the edge of the door and looked into the bedroom.
Oh shit. There was someone else in his bed, and that dark spiky hair definitely didn't belong to Adam.
Whoever it was lay facing away from him, on their side, still asleep if the deep and even breathing was anything to go by. So Ryan had time, if he was quiet, to work this through and decide what to do. If only his head would stop pounding, so he could think. He stayed on the landing, on the other side of the bedroom wall, trying to remember what had happened. Beer. There had been a lot of beer. But he could handle that, drink any of his men under the table, he'd proved it time and again.
His first concern was that it might be one of his men, which would cause a far worse headache than the one currently beating his brain out. He forced himself to look again, mentally crossing each of them off. Toned and tall, he knew who it reminded him of but he wasn't going to get that lucky, no matter how many... sambucas... now he remembered someone had come up with the bright idea of a round of sambuca shots. And then another, at which stage some joker started lighting them. Actually, that might have been him, and that would explain the small burn on his hand. And then they'd just taken the bottle and let the barman tally it up as they went. He had a horrible feeling that might have all gone on his credit card. Still, right now that was the least of his problems.
The man in the bed shifted, then rolled over onto his back, sprawling over the sheets. Not a lot of room left for doubt, and how did he manage to still look good even rumpled and hungover first thing in the morning?
Oh God, he'd slept with one of the science team and broken his own code of keeping work and private life separate. Worse than that, he'd slept with Stephen Hart and couldn't even damn well remember it!
This was not good. Well, actually it was great, but not if he couldn't remember what happened. And he couldn't face Stephen not knowing. What if he'd just crashed there for the night? What if it had been crap, which, given Ryan's state of intoxication last night, seemed a distinct possibility?
Another flash of memory: they'd been the last two in the pub, he'd managed to out-drink his men yet again. And then those blue eyes looking at him questioningly, following up the silent question with a kiss, hesitant at first and then... not so much.
He clung to that memory. His physical headache was starting to fade, that was something. He needed to shower, he reeked of stale sweat and old alcohol and if that was right, if Stephen really had made the first move, then he wanted to be the best he could be when he faced the other man again. If there was any chance it wasn't just a one-night stand that they were both going to regret, then he was going to take it.
As he passed the stairwell again, he could see his jeans lying in a crumpled heap on the hall carpet. That brought back another memory, Stephen dropping to his knees with the front door barely closed and the taxi probably still on the driveway, and already giving him what he'd been promised in the pub.
And then it got hazy but he could remember enough to know it had been a bloody good blowjob, and he was getting hard again just remembering it. But beyond that there was nothing.
God, he hoped he hadn't just fallen asleep. It had to be Stephen bloody Hart, didn't it? He couldn't have just got plastered and picked up some random bloke from the pub. No, it had to be the hottest member of the science team, the one he'd barely been able to take his eyes off since the first time he saw him. Small wonder Adam had left, really, he'd probably sensed it... Oh, what if there wasn't anyone else and he'd just left because it was better to be the one doing the dumping? No. Ryan had seen the other bloke sitting out in the car, waiting. Adam was history, and he was slightly ashamed of how quickly it didn't matter.
The shower was refreshingly wet and steamy, and he stepped into the spray gratefully, letting the water pour over him, washing away some of his tiredness. He was still thinking about last night in the hallway, and closed his hand around his cock, pumping himself to full hardness and wishing it was Stephen's mouth he was fucking again instead. The real thing was just lying there in his bed, naked and dishevelled and...
Ryan opened his eyes as the shower cubicle door squeaked open behind him. Stephen was still pretty dishevelled and definitely still naked, but he was grinning cheerfully at the sight in front of him.
That didn't look like the expression of someone who thought they'd made a big mistake. It actually looked as if he was pleased to be there... very pleased, if Stephen's growing erection was any indication, and the way he was moving in for a kiss. He was like a predator, stalking, and just for once Ryan had no objections to being the prey. Someone as pretty as Hart was going to be used to getting exactly what he wanted, because who was going to say no? Ryan returned the kiss hungrily, drawing Stephen up into his arms, and pulling him round so that he was propped against the corner of the two tiled walls. He had a feeling the plastic side of the cubicle wouldn't stand up to what was going to happen next, and didn't particularly want to have to do a repair job later.
"Could've woken me," Stephen complained.
Ryan shut him up with another firm kiss, pushing him hard against the wall and rubbing up against him, the warm water still pouring down on them. It was going to sound weak if he tried to explain, and he had a feeling weak wasn't going to have any place in this relationship, if that was what it was going to be. His suspicion was confirmed a moment later as Stephen broke away and turned to face the wall, pushing his arse back to rub at Ryan's cock. If that invitation left room for any doubts they were washed away a moment later when his new lover gazed back at him over his shoulder.
"Fuck me, Tom," he pretty much begged. "Want you inside me again, last night was so good."
Ryan really wished he could remember it. He was never drinking sambuca ever again. He squeezed out a handful of shower gel, and began to rub slowly at Stephen's hole, then carefully introduced a finger. Stephen groaned and pushed back at him eagerly.
"God, just do it, I'm ready!"
Ryan doubted that, and wasn't going to screw this up by hurting him. "I'll be the judge of that," he growled, and carried on working at him, slipping in a second finger and pushing deeper, exploring until he found the little nub of pleasure. Stephen gasped, arching against him, panting heavily and bracing himself against the wall.
"Okay?"
"Christ, yes! Just hurry up and fuck me!"
Ryan pushed himself carefully past the tight ring of muscle, easing his way in until he was flush against Stephen, gripping the other man's hips to steady himself.
"Still okay?"
His only response was a nod and a whimper as Ryan pulled back and then thrust deep again, trying to get the angle right, drawing gasps of pleasure from Stephen as he did so. He changed the angle again, and this time nailed the prostate, eliciting a shiver of pleasure from his lover.
Ryan thrust faster, burying himself deeper and harder inside that beautiful body, until suddenly Stephen cried out and came hard and fast against the wall, clenching tight around Ryan as he did so and tipping him over into a shattering orgasm.
Spent, they sank down together on the floor of the shower, a tangle of arms and legs. Ryan tipped his head back into the spray, then found Stephen leaning in to steal a kiss which he returned with interest.
"That," Ryan breathed when he could speak again. "Was bloody wonderful." He reached up to turn off the shower. Stephen was looking at him intently.
"I wondered, when I woke up and you'd gone... Thought you'd sobered up and regretted it." There was an uncertainty in Stephen's face as he said it that Ryan had never seen before. Time for admissions then. Ryan's track record on relationships was poor, but even he knew when it was time to take the guards down. Just a little bit, at least.
"I do," he began, then continued quickly as he saw Stephen's reaction. "I can't remember anything past you giving me a blow-job in the hallway. And I really, really want to remember."
Stephen nodded, unable to hide the relief. "I remember," he assured him. "And if you can't... well I'll just have to remind you!" He got to his feet and opened the shower door. A blast of cooler air hit them and Stephen stepped out, grabbing a couple of towels and flinging one back at Ryan. "I want breakfast though. Don't want you thinking I'm cheap!"
Ryan wrapped the towel around himself as he followed his lover back to the bedroom. He didn't plan on them eating anytime soon.
Stephen Hart was just the best hangover cure.
*****