In Bad Taste
Title: In Bad Taste
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Stephen/Ryan. Appearances from various characters
Words: 1,841
Rating,Warnings: 18 - is very not part of my usual slightly silly Stephen/Ryan verse
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval. Dizty and Blade both belong to fredbassett
Spoilers: For the end of season one. It's okay though, it's Denial friendly.
AN: Written for the mini Halloween fest at primeval_denial and kerry_louise's desire for boys doing naughty things in the rain.
AN2: Muchos thanks to lukadreaming for a super beta service.
Stephen stood by the bar, beer in hand, and joined in the laughter that followed one of Blade's outrageous jokes. His invite to the SF lads' Halloween party had been unexpected but very gratefully received. After months of hard work trying to earn their respect, the invite was confirmation that he'd impressed them enough to be considered one of the lads.
The 'friendly' banter still continued, of course, and a part of him had been concerned that, as Lyle had called the invite over his retreating shoulder at him, he had grinned a bit too much at the part about it being fancy dress.
But he was reassured now. He was wearing tight black trousers with a matching tight black long-sleeved T with a white skeleton printed on the front and back. A mask had completed the look but he had abandoned it as soon as it was clear that it seriously hampered his ability to drink. He was surrounded by various ghosts, ghouls, wizards and witches and one Little Bo Peep. He assumed Ditzy had lost some kind of bet.
The one member of the team who was notable by his absence was Ryan. He had yet to return to work after nearly being killed by the future predator while protecting Nick. Stephen had been itching to visit him ever since but hadn't yet found the nerve. Ryan’s injury had been a big wake-up call for Stephen and all the feelings for Ryan that he had been trying to deny refused to stay hidden any longer. He had heard tonight that Ryan was due to put in an appearance, now well enough to be up and about. Stephen was reasonably confident that he'd hold in his feelings for the other man much better in a room full of soldiers.
The front door to the pub opened and a chorus of cheers went up. The newcomer was instantly surrounded by a wall of men and although Stephen couldn't see from his position he assumed this marked Ryan’s arrival. He heard back-slaps, plenty of ‘good to see you mate’s, and a lot of ‘fucking brilliant costume’.
The group started to thin a little as people returned to their previous conversations and their drinks. Stephen couldn't believe what he was seeing. Ryan was wearing a version of his usual black combat wear, but torn and messy. His face was heavily made-up to look like a zombie and fake blood trickled from the still vivid scars on his neck. He was laughing with the other men who gestured to the healing wounds and laughed with him.
Stephen’s stomach lurched and anger hit him. At that moment Ryan looked over and caught his eye. The contact lingered for a moment and something fizzled between them. Stephen’s anger was suddenly all-consuming. He put his glass down on the bar and stalked out of the pub. Ryan didn’t move out of his way fast enough and spun slightly as their shoulders connected.
Outside in the chilled night air Stephen’s anger abated none, but it reminded him he had left his jacket inside and he had a long walk home. He could also feel the start of rain in the air. He walked the length of the front of the pub, intending to duck into the alley that led towards the outer cellar doors. He thought he’d wait there a moment to let the party get back into full swing, then sneak back in and collect his jacket.
As he turned the corner Stephen heard a shout behind him. He gritted his teeth and ignored it, but was aware of quickening footsteps and then a presence behind him in the alley.
“Oi, Hart, stop.”
Stephen turned around and looked at Ryan who now stood in front of him.
“Why did you leave so quickly?”
Stephen looked at him - the man who wore his scars and near-death with apparent brutal pride - for a beat and then his arm snapped out and his fist connected smartly with Ryan’s cheek. Ryan’s head jerked to one side and he raised his hand to his face, turning back towards Stephen.
“Your first and last free shot, Hart.” Ryan’s voice was low, his own anger now apparent, but cold and controlled. “Now tell me, what the fuck is your problem?”
“What is my problem?” Stephen asked incredulously, then gave a hollow laugh. “How fucking stupid are you?”
Stephen realised a second too late it was the wrong thing to say but Ryan was already moving. He rushed forwards and grabbed the front of Stephen’s top, bunching the material in his large fists and shoving him hard against the alley wall. Stephen got over his shock and reacted instinctively, bringing his hands up, batting Ryan’s away and shoving him away from him, back across the alley. At that moment the threatening clouds started to unleash their burden.
Ryan looked at him and started to laugh which maddened Stephen further.
“You think this is funny?” Stephen spat out.
“Very much so. We haven’t seen in other in weeks and you greet me by fucking hitting me?”
“How sick are you? You nearly died and here you are taking the piss. Don’t you care?"
"You think I don't care? You really think it doesn't scare the living shit out of me that I nearly had my fucking throat ripped out? Of course I care, but this is the military and we are in the field every day. People are going to die and one day that might be me and we just have to deal with that the best we can."
"But you're making a sodding joke of it."
"What do you want me to do? Sob into my cornflakes and hang up my boots? Not a fucking chance. This is my life and my career."
Stephen didn’t have a decent reply, so he did the next best thing. He hit Ryan again. He was actually slightly surprised that the blow landed, but it did, even if Ryan had managed to move enough for it to be a glancing blow. But before he had a chance to think about throwing a third, two hands roughly grabbed him and suddenly his face was pressed up hard against rough brickwork. His right arm was thrust painfully up his back and Ryan was using his body to hold Stephen close against the alley wall. Stephen felt Ryan’s breath hot against the back of his neck.
“I told you, only one free hit.”
Stephen froze in shock, his own breath becoming ragged. Ryan seemed to still behind him for a second longer, then Stephen was shoved forward once more and Ryan stepped away from him and released him.
Stephen turned around and blinked as the rain continued to get heavier. His hair was now plastered to his face and his clothes were starting to stick to his body. Water dripped from Ryan’s hair and he could see little tracks that the drops had cut in the other man’s make-up. It made it look even more horrific than before and Stephen’s temper returned full strength, pushing him to retaliate.
He flew at Ryan who had backed away after his attack and used his momentum to shove them both into the wall behind Ryan.
“I thought I’d lost you, you fucking bastard.”
Ryan impacted with a loud “oomph” and lifted his hands to smack Stephen’s out of the way. But Stephen grabbed a hold of him again, pushing him against the wall once more.
This time Ryan’s retaliation was tougher. He grabbed Stephen by the biceps and spun them both around, forcing Stephen up against the wall. Stephen didn’t even have a chance to react before Ryan pushed forwards and crushed their lips together. Stephen’s eyes opened wide with surprise, only to be filled instantly with stinging rain. He blinked and tried to push back against the other man but couldn’t match his force or strength.
Ryan pulled back slightly and Stephen gasped at him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted.
“What you fucking won’t,” Ryan growled back, before leaning in and kissing him again. Stephen felt Ryan’s body pressing him hard against the wall, lips pushing his against his teeth. His anger boiled even higher and he pushed back against Ryan. But Ryan was still stronger and despite his best efforts Stephen couldn’t get the leverage to move the other man. He suddenly felt like weeping in frustration and then something seemed to break inside him.
A sob escaped him and he opened his mouth, letting Ryan in. Ryan took full advantage and thrust his tongue inside. Stephen welcomed the warm intruder with a groan and thrust his hips towards Ryan’s body. Their tongues tangled and teeth clashed as the rain continued to pelt them. But Stephen could barely feel it now. He suddenly felt more alive than he had done in the weeks since Ryan’s attack and he wanted more than anything for Ryan to prove how alive he was.
Before he had a chance to do anything, though, Ryan’s hands released him, but he was held in place by the other man’s face still pressed against his. He heard a zip being lowered and clothes rustling, and then hands were on him. A hand delved into his trousers, and fingers gripped his cock, firm and strong. Stephen thrust his hips forward again and clutched at Ryan’s clothing.
A shiver rippled through his body as his cock was suddenly exposed to the chill, wet, night air, but then he felt himself pressed up against Ryan’s erection as his large hands pumped them both. Stephen pushed forwards as much as he could, finally taking control of the kiss, hands gripping harder and tighter at Ryan. It was frantic and rough and messy; wet and cold and hot. Their kisses faltered with not enough breath to sustain them; instead their mouths pressed close and open, teeth gritted, puffing and panting into each other's mouths.
Stephen only lasted moments under the assault before he was coming, thrusting hard into Ryan’s hand and biting down onto his lip. Seconds later Ryan followed him over with a grunt.
The both paused, foreheads touching, panting into each other’s mouths and clinging to each other's bodies. Wordlessly Ryan tucked them both back into their clothes, flicking out his hand a couple of times and holding it into the rain to clean it.
Ryan finally pulled his head back and Stephen looked into his eyes which were dark and worried.
“Sorry. Are you okay?” Ryan asked.
Stephen let his gaze wander over the other man. The rain had stripped Ryan’s face of make-up and washed the red of fake blood from his neck. The scars were still vivid, but he looked whole, complete. Ryan felt solid under his hands, his breath still washed over Stephen’s face and his heart was beating firmly in his chest. Stephen moved his hands to knot in Ryan’s hair and pull him, unresisting, in for another kiss.
“Now I am.”
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Stephen/Ryan. Appearances from various characters
Words: 1,841
Rating,Warnings: 18 - is very not part of my usual slightly silly Stephen/Ryan verse
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval. Dizty and Blade both belong to fredbassett
Spoilers: For the end of season one. It's okay though, it's Denial friendly.
AN: Written for the mini Halloween fest at primeval_denial and kerry_louise's desire for boys doing naughty things in the rain.
AN2: Muchos thanks to lukadreaming for a super beta service.
Stephen stood by the bar, beer in hand, and joined in the laughter that followed one of Blade's outrageous jokes. His invite to the SF lads' Halloween party had been unexpected but very gratefully received. After months of hard work trying to earn their respect, the invite was confirmation that he'd impressed them enough to be considered one of the lads.
The 'friendly' banter still continued, of course, and a part of him had been concerned that, as Lyle had called the invite over his retreating shoulder at him, he had grinned a bit too much at the part about it being fancy dress.
But he was reassured now. He was wearing tight black trousers with a matching tight black long-sleeved T with a white skeleton printed on the front and back. A mask had completed the look but he had abandoned it as soon as it was clear that it seriously hampered his ability to drink. He was surrounded by various ghosts, ghouls, wizards and witches and one Little Bo Peep. He assumed Ditzy had lost some kind of bet.
The one member of the team who was notable by his absence was Ryan. He had yet to return to work after nearly being killed by the future predator while protecting Nick. Stephen had been itching to visit him ever since but hadn't yet found the nerve. Ryan’s injury had been a big wake-up call for Stephen and all the feelings for Ryan that he had been trying to deny refused to stay hidden any longer. He had heard tonight that Ryan was due to put in an appearance, now well enough to be up and about. Stephen was reasonably confident that he'd hold in his feelings for the other man much better in a room full of soldiers.
The front door to the pub opened and a chorus of cheers went up. The newcomer was instantly surrounded by a wall of men and although Stephen couldn't see from his position he assumed this marked Ryan’s arrival. He heard back-slaps, plenty of ‘good to see you mate’s, and a lot of ‘fucking brilliant costume’.
The group started to thin a little as people returned to their previous conversations and their drinks. Stephen couldn't believe what he was seeing. Ryan was wearing a version of his usual black combat wear, but torn and messy. His face was heavily made-up to look like a zombie and fake blood trickled from the still vivid scars on his neck. He was laughing with the other men who gestured to the healing wounds and laughed with him.
Stephen’s stomach lurched and anger hit him. At that moment Ryan looked over and caught his eye. The contact lingered for a moment and something fizzled between them. Stephen’s anger was suddenly all-consuming. He put his glass down on the bar and stalked out of the pub. Ryan didn’t move out of his way fast enough and spun slightly as their shoulders connected.
Outside in the chilled night air Stephen’s anger abated none, but it reminded him he had left his jacket inside and he had a long walk home. He could also feel the start of rain in the air. He walked the length of the front of the pub, intending to duck into the alley that led towards the outer cellar doors. He thought he’d wait there a moment to let the party get back into full swing, then sneak back in and collect his jacket.
As he turned the corner Stephen heard a shout behind him. He gritted his teeth and ignored it, but was aware of quickening footsteps and then a presence behind him in the alley.
“Oi, Hart, stop.”
Stephen turned around and looked at Ryan who now stood in front of him.
“Why did you leave so quickly?”
Stephen looked at him - the man who wore his scars and near-death with apparent brutal pride - for a beat and then his arm snapped out and his fist connected smartly with Ryan’s cheek. Ryan’s head jerked to one side and he raised his hand to his face, turning back towards Stephen.
“Your first and last free shot, Hart.” Ryan’s voice was low, his own anger now apparent, but cold and controlled. “Now tell me, what the fuck is your problem?”
“What is my problem?” Stephen asked incredulously, then gave a hollow laugh. “How fucking stupid are you?”
Stephen realised a second too late it was the wrong thing to say but Ryan was already moving. He rushed forwards and grabbed the front of Stephen’s top, bunching the material in his large fists and shoving him hard against the alley wall. Stephen got over his shock and reacted instinctively, bringing his hands up, batting Ryan’s away and shoving him away from him, back across the alley. At that moment the threatening clouds started to unleash their burden.
Ryan looked at him and started to laugh which maddened Stephen further.
“You think this is funny?” Stephen spat out.
“Very much so. We haven’t seen in other in weeks and you greet me by fucking hitting me?”
“How sick are you? You nearly died and here you are taking the piss. Don’t you care?"
"You think I don't care? You really think it doesn't scare the living shit out of me that I nearly had my fucking throat ripped out? Of course I care, but this is the military and we are in the field every day. People are going to die and one day that might be me and we just have to deal with that the best we can."
"But you're making a sodding joke of it."
"What do you want me to do? Sob into my cornflakes and hang up my boots? Not a fucking chance. This is my life and my career."
Stephen didn’t have a decent reply, so he did the next best thing. He hit Ryan again. He was actually slightly surprised that the blow landed, but it did, even if Ryan had managed to move enough for it to be a glancing blow. But before he had a chance to think about throwing a third, two hands roughly grabbed him and suddenly his face was pressed up hard against rough brickwork. His right arm was thrust painfully up his back and Ryan was using his body to hold Stephen close against the alley wall. Stephen felt Ryan’s breath hot against the back of his neck.
“I told you, only one free hit.”
Stephen froze in shock, his own breath becoming ragged. Ryan seemed to still behind him for a second longer, then Stephen was shoved forward once more and Ryan stepped away from him and released him.
Stephen turned around and blinked as the rain continued to get heavier. His hair was now plastered to his face and his clothes were starting to stick to his body. Water dripped from Ryan’s hair and he could see little tracks that the drops had cut in the other man’s make-up. It made it look even more horrific than before and Stephen’s temper returned full strength, pushing him to retaliate.
He flew at Ryan who had backed away after his attack and used his momentum to shove them both into the wall behind Ryan.
“I thought I’d lost you, you fucking bastard.”
Ryan impacted with a loud “oomph” and lifted his hands to smack Stephen’s out of the way. But Stephen grabbed a hold of him again, pushing him against the wall once more.
This time Ryan’s retaliation was tougher. He grabbed Stephen by the biceps and spun them both around, forcing Stephen up against the wall. Stephen didn’t even have a chance to react before Ryan pushed forwards and crushed their lips together. Stephen’s eyes opened wide with surprise, only to be filled instantly with stinging rain. He blinked and tried to push back against the other man but couldn’t match his force or strength.
Ryan pulled back slightly and Stephen gasped at him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he shouted.
“What you fucking won’t,” Ryan growled back, before leaning in and kissing him again. Stephen felt Ryan’s body pressing him hard against the wall, lips pushing his against his teeth. His anger boiled even higher and he pushed back against Ryan. But Ryan was still stronger and despite his best efforts Stephen couldn’t get the leverage to move the other man. He suddenly felt like weeping in frustration and then something seemed to break inside him.
A sob escaped him and he opened his mouth, letting Ryan in. Ryan took full advantage and thrust his tongue inside. Stephen welcomed the warm intruder with a groan and thrust his hips towards Ryan’s body. Their tongues tangled and teeth clashed as the rain continued to pelt them. But Stephen could barely feel it now. He suddenly felt more alive than he had done in the weeks since Ryan’s attack and he wanted more than anything for Ryan to prove how alive he was.
Before he had a chance to do anything, though, Ryan’s hands released him, but he was held in place by the other man’s face still pressed against his. He heard a zip being lowered and clothes rustling, and then hands were on him. A hand delved into his trousers, and fingers gripped his cock, firm and strong. Stephen thrust his hips forward again and clutched at Ryan’s clothing.
A shiver rippled through his body as his cock was suddenly exposed to the chill, wet, night air, but then he felt himself pressed up against Ryan’s erection as his large hands pumped them both. Stephen pushed forwards as much as he could, finally taking control of the kiss, hands gripping harder and tighter at Ryan. It was frantic and rough and messy; wet and cold and hot. Their kisses faltered with not enough breath to sustain them; instead their mouths pressed close and open, teeth gritted, puffing and panting into each other's mouths.
Stephen only lasted moments under the assault before he was coming, thrusting hard into Ryan’s hand and biting down onto his lip. Seconds later Ryan followed him over with a grunt.
The both paused, foreheads touching, panting into each other’s mouths and clinging to each other's bodies. Wordlessly Ryan tucked them both back into their clothes, flicking out his hand a couple of times and holding it into the rain to clean it.
Ryan finally pulled his head back and Stephen looked into his eyes which were dark and worried.
“Sorry. Are you okay?” Ryan asked.
Stephen let his gaze wander over the other man. The rain had stripped Ryan’s face of make-up and washed the red of fake blood from his neck. The scars were still vivid, but he looked whole, complete. Ryan felt solid under his hands, his breath still washed over Stephen’s face and his heart was beating firmly in his chest. Stephen moved his hands to knot in Ryan’s hair and pull him, unresisting, in for another kiss.
“Now I am.”