Untitled Ficlet - Connor/Becker/Ryan
Ficlet.
Rating: PG-13 (if that)
Pairing: Connor/Becker/Ryan
Spoilers: None really.
Warnings: schmoop and fluff…
Author’s notes: written to break the writers block, it’s short and saccharine and no where near as porny as I’d like it to be, hopefully I can remedy that.
He twitches in his sleep, lying sandwiched between them, hand on Becker’s chest, hair sweaty and splayed over the pillows.
He’s sprawled over Becker, legs tangled with the Special Forces Captain and snoring quietly. Becker looks down fondly when Connor’s hand twitches on his chest.
“We nearly lost him again.” Ryan says quietly, settling himself in a better position against the headboard, and wincing slightly as the movement pulls the bruise on his ribs, courtesy of being thrown several feet by an over aggressive creature and into a fence.
“Maybe we should handcuff him to the bed and only let him out on special occasions?” Becker suggests, letting a hand rest on Connor’s head smoothing his hair down and catching a nail in the small bandage taped to the top of his back.
“I like that plan. Lester, and Cutter for that matter, may not.” Ryan says, letting his hand repeat the trail Becker blazed and his fingers tangle with the other captain’s.
“Well, fuck them. They keep putting him in the firing line.” Becker shifts angrily, sitting up slightly and disturbing Connor who groans and wiggles between them.
“Fuck who?” He mutters blearily. “Each other, if you’re going to. I’m tired.” He looks up half way, just about meeting Becker’s eyes and smiling.
Becker’s anger dissipates in the three seconds it takes for Connor’s hand to slide over his chest and wrap around his waist, pulling him slightly closer. Becker’s freehand, the one not currently stroking Ryan’s palm, reaches down and swipes a thumb slowly over Connor’s lips before he leans forward and kisses him softly. No tongues just a soft press of dry lips that has Connor sighing softly and trying to hold on tighter.
Ryan smiles at them as he slides down under the covers, fingers still tangled he lets their joined hands wrap over Connor’s hip and pulls him back slightly so his chest is pressed the length of Connor’s back, pressing a small kiss to the nape of Connor’s neck.
Becker moves, sliding down too, shoulders still tense but a smile creeping onto his lips as he kisses Connor again.
Ryan’s not sure which of them pulls the sheet up higher but he presses his face into Connor’s neck and spends a few seconds reminding himself that Connor is safe, lying there between them and nothing will change that if he or Becker have anything to do with it.
“Ry’,” he hears and lifts his head slightly to catch Becker’s eyes. “Handcuffs, definitely, right?”
Ryan laughs and settles himself back down, Connor’s already fallen back asleep and his captains aren’t far behind.
Rating: PG-13 (if that)
Pairing: Connor/Becker/Ryan
Spoilers: None really.
Warnings: schmoop and fluff…
Author’s notes: written to break the writers block, it’s short and saccharine and no where near as porny as I’d like it to be, hopefully I can remedy that.
He twitches in his sleep, lying sandwiched between them, hand on Becker’s chest, hair sweaty and splayed over the pillows.
He’s sprawled over Becker, legs tangled with the Special Forces Captain and snoring quietly. Becker looks down fondly when Connor’s hand twitches on his chest.
“We nearly lost him again.” Ryan says quietly, settling himself in a better position against the headboard, and wincing slightly as the movement pulls the bruise on his ribs, courtesy of being thrown several feet by an over aggressive creature and into a fence.
“Maybe we should handcuff him to the bed and only let him out on special occasions?” Becker suggests, letting a hand rest on Connor’s head smoothing his hair down and catching a nail in the small bandage taped to the top of his back.
“I like that plan. Lester, and Cutter for that matter, may not.” Ryan says, letting his hand repeat the trail Becker blazed and his fingers tangle with the other captain’s.
“Well, fuck them. They keep putting him in the firing line.” Becker shifts angrily, sitting up slightly and disturbing Connor who groans and wiggles between them.
“Fuck who?” He mutters blearily. “Each other, if you’re going to. I’m tired.” He looks up half way, just about meeting Becker’s eyes and smiling.
Becker’s anger dissipates in the three seconds it takes for Connor’s hand to slide over his chest and wrap around his waist, pulling him slightly closer. Becker’s freehand, the one not currently stroking Ryan’s palm, reaches down and swipes a thumb slowly over Connor’s lips before he leans forward and kisses him softly. No tongues just a soft press of dry lips that has Connor sighing softly and trying to hold on tighter.
Ryan smiles at them as he slides down under the covers, fingers still tangled he lets their joined hands wrap over Connor’s hip and pulls him back slightly so his chest is pressed the length of Connor’s back, pressing a small kiss to the nape of Connor’s neck.
Becker moves, sliding down too, shoulders still tense but a smile creeping onto his lips as he kisses Connor again.
Ryan’s not sure which of them pulls the sheet up higher but he presses his face into Connor’s neck and spends a few seconds reminding himself that Connor is safe, lying there between them and nothing will change that if he or Becker have anything to do with it.
“Ry’,” he hears and lifts his head slightly to catch Becker’s eyes. “Handcuffs, definitely, right?”
Ryan laughs and settles himself back down, Connor’s already fallen back asleep and his captains aren’t far behind.