Tackle
Title: Tackle
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Connor/Becker
Words: 942
Rating,Warnings: 18
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None
AN: Another quick and dirty (again, read "rushed and unbetad") Denial fic. Written for my "writer's group" prompt 'Becker/Connor, coming in pants.' Apparently it was supposed to be a drabble. Ooopsie?
Connor and Becker were sitting side by side on the sofa while Becker watched a rugby match and Connor grew bored and restless.
“I’m bored Becks. How much longer does this last?”
“We’re about to go into half time, just shut up for two more minutes.” Becker answered sharply.
There was silence for two minutes, but there was a definite air of sulkiness to it.
As the whistle blew Becker turned to Connor.
“Alright it’s half time. What do you want?”
Connor tried to keep up his sulk, but failed miserably after only a couple of seconds. He flipped himself on the sofa and climbed into Becker’s lap, straddling him.
“You.”
“We only have 15 minutes before the next half.”
Connor grinned wickedly. “That’s all I need.”
Becker’s eyes widened in surprise as Connor leaned forwards and pressed a firm kiss against on Becker’s mouth, licking at his lips until Becker relented and kissed him back.
Connor pushed his hips forwards and rolled them, grinning into the kiss as he pulled a small gasp from Becker. He rolled his hips again, pushing slightly firmer down into Becker’s groin.
Becker tried to pull back from the kiss, “Conn, stop before I get too carried away.” There was an edge of a plea to Becker’s voice, but all it did was spur Connor on.
“Nope. You said we had 15 minutes. It’s nearer ten now.” And Connor pushed his hips down further.
“Conn, either stop right now or let me take this to the bedroom.” Ignoring him, Connor continued to roll his hips, pushing down harder against Becker, smirking to himself as Becker’s hands gripped his waist, fingers digging into him through his clothes.
“Seriously Conn, stop. We can do whatever you like. Forget about the rugby.”
“But I like the rugby,” Connor said, ruthless in his hips movements. “All those hot men running around in their tight shorts and their tight t-shirts. All grubby and bruised.” He grinned against Becker’s mouth as he spoke. “Do you still play rugby Becker? Have you got a tight little kit you can wear for me? I’d love to see you on the field, getting all filthy and riled up. God, I can just imagine the fucking you’d give me after that.”
Becker gave a surprised groan and his hips thrust up against Connor. Connor bit down on Becker’s lip and met Becker’s thrusts.
“Shit,” Becker muttered a few seconds later as he tried to get his breath back. He looked up at Connor who was giving him a very smug, self-satisfied grin.
“And look, we’ve still got a few minutes before the rugby starts again.”
“Screw the rugby, I’m going to make you pay for that,” Becker fairly growled.
Connor watched a dark look spread across Becker’s face and leapt up, turning to flee from Becker. He bolted out of the lounge with Becker in pursuit. Connor headed towards the bathroom, seeking refuge in the only room with a lock, but before he was through the door, Becker grabbed him around the waist and pulled him down to the floor.
Connor yelped.
“You wanted rugby didn’t you? Can’t play rugby without a tackle.” Becker breathed into Connor’s ear, resting heavily on him. Connor wriggled underneath him.
“I didn’t mean me.”
“Too late.”
Becker reached underneath Connor’s body and undid his trousers, yanking them down over his arse. Keeping Connor pinned in place, he reached up and pulled a tube of lube off a shelf. He squeezed some directly onto Connor’s arse-hole and pushed a finger straight in, eliciting another yelp from Connor.
“Stop complaining.”
Becker crooked his finger in Connor’s body and the yelp quickly changed tone. Becker added another finger, and began to finger-fuck him against the floor.
“Now, we wouldn’t have to be going through all this if you hadn’t made me come. We could have gone straight to me fucking you, but now we’ve got to wait for me to get ready again.”
“Sorry?” Connor muttered, not entirely convincingly, through heavy breathing.
Becker watched Connor slide his hand under his body and watched Connor’s face change as he took hold of his own cock. He felt himself start to stir again and reached his other hand into his waistband. A grimace crossed his face as his fingers plunged into the sticky mess, but he wrapped his fingers around his cock and started to pump.
Connor was hot and tight around his fingers and even Becker was surprised by how quickly his own body was recovering. He reluctantly pulled his fingers from Connor’s arse sat back on his haunches between Connor’s legs, quickly undoing his trousers. He leant forwards and helped Connor sit up and back, pushing his cock into his tight body.
They both let out a filthy moan and Connor started to move immediately, fucking himself on Becker. His hand was now free to get a more satisfying grip on his own cock and he started to pump furiously. Becker’s arms were tight around his waist and the two moved together. Connor’s orgasm hit him suddenly and he spilled over his hand, hearing Becker grunt behind him as his arse tightened around Becker’s cock. Connor rode Becker through his orgasm and Becker continued to thrust up into him, until, with a muttered “oh fuck, yes,” he came again.
Becker sat still, Connor still on his lap as they both caught their breath.
“If that’s how rugby is always played, then maybe I should get more into it.” Connor finally said.
Becker laughed against his neck.
“That’s not how most games end, but we still have the shower bit to look forward to.”
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Connor/Becker
Words: 942
Rating,Warnings: 18
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None
AN: Another quick and dirty (again, read "rushed and unbetad") Denial fic. Written for my "writer's group" prompt 'Becker/Connor, coming in pants.' Apparently it was supposed to be a drabble. Ooopsie?
Connor and Becker were sitting side by side on the sofa while Becker watched a rugby match and Connor grew bored and restless.
“I’m bored Becks. How much longer does this last?”
“We’re about to go into half time, just shut up for two more minutes.” Becker answered sharply.
There was silence for two minutes, but there was a definite air of sulkiness to it.
As the whistle blew Becker turned to Connor.
“Alright it’s half time. What do you want?”
Connor tried to keep up his sulk, but failed miserably after only a couple of seconds. He flipped himself on the sofa and climbed into Becker’s lap, straddling him.
“You.”
“We only have 15 minutes before the next half.”
Connor grinned wickedly. “That’s all I need.”
Becker’s eyes widened in surprise as Connor leaned forwards and pressed a firm kiss against on Becker’s mouth, licking at his lips until Becker relented and kissed him back.
Connor pushed his hips forwards and rolled them, grinning into the kiss as he pulled a small gasp from Becker. He rolled his hips again, pushing slightly firmer down into Becker’s groin.
Becker tried to pull back from the kiss, “Conn, stop before I get too carried away.” There was an edge of a plea to Becker’s voice, but all it did was spur Connor on.
“Nope. You said we had 15 minutes. It’s nearer ten now.” And Connor pushed his hips down further.
“Conn, either stop right now or let me take this to the bedroom.” Ignoring him, Connor continued to roll his hips, pushing down harder against Becker, smirking to himself as Becker’s hands gripped his waist, fingers digging into him through his clothes.
“Seriously Conn, stop. We can do whatever you like. Forget about the rugby.”
“But I like the rugby,” Connor said, ruthless in his hips movements. “All those hot men running around in their tight shorts and their tight t-shirts. All grubby and bruised.” He grinned against Becker’s mouth as he spoke. “Do you still play rugby Becker? Have you got a tight little kit you can wear for me? I’d love to see you on the field, getting all filthy and riled up. God, I can just imagine the fucking you’d give me after that.”
Becker gave a surprised groan and his hips thrust up against Connor. Connor bit down on Becker’s lip and met Becker’s thrusts.
“Shit,” Becker muttered a few seconds later as he tried to get his breath back. He looked up at Connor who was giving him a very smug, self-satisfied grin.
“And look, we’ve still got a few minutes before the rugby starts again.”
“Screw the rugby, I’m going to make you pay for that,” Becker fairly growled.
Connor watched a dark look spread across Becker’s face and leapt up, turning to flee from Becker. He bolted out of the lounge with Becker in pursuit. Connor headed towards the bathroom, seeking refuge in the only room with a lock, but before he was through the door, Becker grabbed him around the waist and pulled him down to the floor.
Connor yelped.
“You wanted rugby didn’t you? Can’t play rugby without a tackle.” Becker breathed into Connor’s ear, resting heavily on him. Connor wriggled underneath him.
“I didn’t mean me.”
“Too late.”
Becker reached underneath Connor’s body and undid his trousers, yanking them down over his arse. Keeping Connor pinned in place, he reached up and pulled a tube of lube off a shelf. He squeezed some directly onto Connor’s arse-hole and pushed a finger straight in, eliciting another yelp from Connor.
“Stop complaining.”
Becker crooked his finger in Connor’s body and the yelp quickly changed tone. Becker added another finger, and began to finger-fuck him against the floor.
“Now, we wouldn’t have to be going through all this if you hadn’t made me come. We could have gone straight to me fucking you, but now we’ve got to wait for me to get ready again.”
“Sorry?” Connor muttered, not entirely convincingly, through heavy breathing.
Becker watched Connor slide his hand under his body and watched Connor’s face change as he took hold of his own cock. He felt himself start to stir again and reached his other hand into his waistband. A grimace crossed his face as his fingers plunged into the sticky mess, but he wrapped his fingers around his cock and started to pump.
Connor was hot and tight around his fingers and even Becker was surprised by how quickly his own body was recovering. He reluctantly pulled his fingers from Connor’s arse sat back on his haunches between Connor’s legs, quickly undoing his trousers. He leant forwards and helped Connor sit up and back, pushing his cock into his tight body.
They both let out a filthy moan and Connor started to move immediately, fucking himself on Becker. His hand was now free to get a more satisfying grip on his own cock and he started to pump furiously. Becker’s arms were tight around his waist and the two moved together. Connor’s orgasm hit him suddenly and he spilled over his hand, hearing Becker grunt behind him as his arse tightened around Becker’s cock. Connor rode Becker through his orgasm and Becker continued to thrust up into him, until, with a muttered “oh fuck, yes,” he came again.
Becker sat still, Connor still on his lap as they both caught their breath.
“If that’s how rugby is always played, then maybe I should get more into it.” Connor finally said.
Becker laughed against his neck.
“That’s not how most games end, but we still have the shower bit to look forward to.”