Girls 2/6
Title: Girls 2/6
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Stephen/Ryan
Words: 749
Rating,Warnings: 18, Is mutual masturbation a warning or a promise?
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None
AN: First part of a couple of follow ups as requested! Part one here.
In retrospect it was a slightly foolish idea. Actually it was a sequence of slightly foolish ideas. Fortunately retrospect was still some way away.
After a second day of dancing around each other, talking, but not saying anything Stephen went home from work alone, still not having resolved anything with Ryan. In fact their night together hadn’t been mentioned at all.
And that was what led to the first slightly foolish idea. The one that involved buying the bottle of single malt on the way home from work. The second, slightly more foolish, idea was to not stop drinking after the first couple of glasses had gone down, leaving a warm glow in his stomach and a pleasant burn on his tongue.
As he drank Stephen spent another night glaring at his phone. It was as stubbornly quiet as it had been the night before. About half way down the bottle a voice spoke up in Stephen’s head asking why he doesn’t just pick up the phone and call Ryan himself.
The voice was quite loud and insistent and fuelled by the Scotch, so once again Stephen found himself reaching for his mobile. He flicked it open and scrolled through his phone book to pull up Ryan’s number. His finger hovered over the call button and he lifted the glass to his lips with the other hand.
The Dutch courage left him then and the phone fell from his hands. The other kept a tight grip on the whisky tumbler.
Stephen went back to pretending to watch TV and glaring at his silent phone until the final slightly foolish idea struck. He reached for his phone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Loose limbed they make their way to the shower. The hot water is a back drop to soap slicked touches, hot languid kisses and silent absorbing of each others’ bodies with their eyes.
Touches gradually get firmer, bodies moving closer together, kisses becoming more urgent. Ryan uses his bulk to push Stephen against the tiled wall, their mouths sealed a deep kiss while their bodies slide against each other and hands grip, grope and explore.
Ryan slips a hand between their bodies and wraps it around both of their erections, eliciting moans from both men. Stephen’s hand joins his and fingers overlapping palms, they find a rhythm, pulling each other closer to the edge.
The middle knuckles of Stephen’s hand dig into Ryan’s stomach, but he doesn’t care. He wants to be closer and closer still. He doesn’t want a breath of air between their bodies.
Mouths are no longer kissing, but parted lips hover over each other, setting free gasps and huffs of want and need.
“Fu…fu…fuck!” stutters Stephen, as his body shudders through his orgasm. Ryan swallows the words with a moan of his own. He pushes his hips impossibly closer, his come joining the other man’s in coating their hands.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ryan stepped out of the shower. It hadn’t helped, it had just served to bring back memories. They were good memories, but weren’t welcome right now. Not after another day of pussy footing around each other at work followed by an evening of radio silence.
He quickly made up his mind and tossing his loose pyjama bottoms back onto the bed, quickly slipped into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and threw a shirt on open over the top. Shoving his feet into a pair of boots he grabbed his phone and keys, and headed for his car.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had only taken a few moments from Stephen putting down the phone for the taxi to arrive. He sat in it, his whisky soaked mind still convinced this was a good idea. After a short ride he paid the driver and clambered out, keeping a relatively straight line to Ryan’s front door.
He knocked. He paused. He waited for a response that didn’t come. He banged on the door again. Then Stephen’s mind focused on the dark windows. He turned and sat heavily on the door step, his head hanging loosely between his knees.
Better call another taxi then.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ryan pulled up outside Stephen’s apartment block and, making sure no one was watching, quickly let himself into the main building. He ran up to the other man’s flat and knocked. The returning silence was deafening. He thunked his forehead gently against the door. Of course Stephen would be out. He had a life. He didn’t spend his night’s sat home pining. Ryan turned and walked slowly away.
Part three here.
Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Stephen/Ryan
Words: 749
Rating,Warnings: 18, Is mutual masturbation a warning or a promise?
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Primeval.
Spoilers: None
AN: First part of a couple of follow ups as requested! Part one here.
In retrospect it was a slightly foolish idea. Actually it was a sequence of slightly foolish ideas. Fortunately retrospect was still some way away.
After a second day of dancing around each other, talking, but not saying anything Stephen went home from work alone, still not having resolved anything with Ryan. In fact their night together hadn’t been mentioned at all.
And that was what led to the first slightly foolish idea. The one that involved buying the bottle of single malt on the way home from work. The second, slightly more foolish, idea was to not stop drinking after the first couple of glasses had gone down, leaving a warm glow in his stomach and a pleasant burn on his tongue.
As he drank Stephen spent another night glaring at his phone. It was as stubbornly quiet as it had been the night before. About half way down the bottle a voice spoke up in Stephen’s head asking why he doesn’t just pick up the phone and call Ryan himself.
The voice was quite loud and insistent and fuelled by the Scotch, so once again Stephen found himself reaching for his mobile. He flicked it open and scrolled through his phone book to pull up Ryan’s number. His finger hovered over the call button and he lifted the glass to his lips with the other hand.
The Dutch courage left him then and the phone fell from his hands. The other kept a tight grip on the whisky tumbler.
Stephen went back to pretending to watch TV and glaring at his silent phone until the final slightly foolish idea struck. He reached for his phone.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Loose limbed they make their way to the shower. The hot water is a back drop to soap slicked touches, hot languid kisses and silent absorbing of each others’ bodies with their eyes.
Touches gradually get firmer, bodies moving closer together, kisses becoming more urgent. Ryan uses his bulk to push Stephen against the tiled wall, their mouths sealed a deep kiss while their bodies slide against each other and hands grip, grope and explore.
Ryan slips a hand between their bodies and wraps it around both of their erections, eliciting moans from both men. Stephen’s hand joins his and fingers overlapping palms, they find a rhythm, pulling each other closer to the edge.
The middle knuckles of Stephen’s hand dig into Ryan’s stomach, but he doesn’t care. He wants to be closer and closer still. He doesn’t want a breath of air between their bodies.
Mouths are no longer kissing, but parted lips hover over each other, setting free gasps and huffs of want and need.
“Fu…fu…fuck!” stutters Stephen, as his body shudders through his orgasm. Ryan swallows the words with a moan of his own. He pushes his hips impossibly closer, his come joining the other man’s in coating their hands.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ryan stepped out of the shower. It hadn’t helped, it had just served to bring back memories. They were good memories, but weren’t welcome right now. Not after another day of pussy footing around each other at work followed by an evening of radio silence.
He quickly made up his mind and tossing his loose pyjama bottoms back onto the bed, quickly slipped into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and threw a shirt on open over the top. Shoving his feet into a pair of boots he grabbed his phone and keys, and headed for his car.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
It had only taken a few moments from Stephen putting down the phone for the taxi to arrive. He sat in it, his whisky soaked mind still convinced this was a good idea. After a short ride he paid the driver and clambered out, keeping a relatively straight line to Ryan’s front door.
He knocked. He paused. He waited for a response that didn’t come. He banged on the door again. Then Stephen’s mind focused on the dark windows. He turned and sat heavily on the door step, his head hanging loosely between his knees.
Better call another taxi then.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ryan pulled up outside Stephen’s apartment block and, making sure no one was watching, quickly let himself into the main building. He ran up to the other man’s flat and knocked. The returning silence was deafening. He thunked his forehead gently against the door. Of course Stephen would be out. He had a life. He didn’t spend his night’s sat home pining. Ryan turned and walked slowly away.
Part three here.