Primeval fanfic: A Tale of Four Vests
Title: A Tale of Four Vests
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I own nothing here and I'm making no money from it either.
Rating: NC-17 This is pretty much just . . . yeah, there's not really much of a plot.
Summary: Connor likes to work on cars. He likes to do it in a vest. Stephen likes to see him working on cars in a vest.
A/N: See, I had this whole funny thing with Jenny and Connor and jokes about casting a Primeval movie. And then Stephen came by and he had this warren with him and Jenny wandered off to fantasise about Brad Pitt, leaving me with Connor and Stephen and vests and bunnies. Anyhow, Connor having a car mechanic background is just something of a thing I have, so I'm using it. Consider it head!canon for me.
***********************************
It all started after the raptors in the mall. Cutter wanted to punish Connor for not spending enough time on the gun range practicing, so when they headed out en masse to deal with an anomaly that had opened up in a hamlet miles from London, Connor was relegated to sitting impatiently at the B&B, nothing to do but play on his laptop and wait for the others to get back from the excitement of sending the creatures back through the anomaly.
Stephen had been all for it. The blind panic that had come from Connor forgetting to get Abby after he'd shot her was not something he'd soon forget, and cooling his heels away from the excitement might do Connor some good. They'd come back to find Connor had fallen asleep waiting for them, his laptop open and ready for use.
The anomaly was still open, so they'd had to stick around another day, and Stephen had wound up delegated to go back and collect Connor from the B&B to take readings and play assistant. He'd arrived at the house, no Connor. Not in the room, not in the dining room, living room, back or front yard, nowhere. Frowning, he started down the street, hoping to track down where the errant geek was, and paused, amused, when he heard two teenaged girls chattering.
"Isn't he just gorgeous?"
"I know. Wearing that grey vest and the jeans? It's just . . ." the second one giggled.
The first said, "And his arms!"
"Sophie said he's only going to be around a day or two more at most."
"Then we'd best get to the garage while there's still the chance, isn't there?"
"Oh, yes."
They scampered down the street, joining a pack of girls who were all doing a terrible job at pretending not to stare from the tiny ice cream parlour across the street. He shook his head, following behind them as there wasn't exactly much street to look for Connor on, thinking he might find the geek at the tea shop, getting caffinated.
No luck there, but that changed when he passed the garage with its crowd of girls. An elderly woman, with a leering grin on her face, had crossed the street in front of Stephen, heading for that same garage. Apparently whoever 'he' was, he was attractive enough to have old women coming by to stare. Annoyed with Connor for having now gone missing, Stephen was sharply checked by the sound of a familiar voice squawking in surprise, followed by the scandalised giggling of the girls.
He turned to look, and there was Connor in a grey vest and jeans, streaks of dirt on his arms and looking sweaty and quite . . . well, that explained the teenaged girls, and the old woman apparently pinching Connor's bum. It seemed that Connor had been working on cars in the garage in his free time. He crossed the street, coming up behind the team geek, who didn't so much resemble a geek at that moment, as a sexy mechnic calendar pinup.
"Cutter wants you to head out, Connor," he said, uncomfortably aware of the old woman looking him up and down.
Amazingly, Connor looked disappointed. "Right." He turned to the woman, "Thanks for the biscuits, Mrs. Roberts. I just finished up with your car. The brakes should be good now."
"You're more than welcome for the biscuits," the woman said. "I don't often get the chance to bake for such a delightful young man." The smile on her face made it clear just why she thought he was delightful. Then she turned to Stephen, "Oh, are you one of his friends? He mentioned there was a university study of local animal life going on and that's why you're all out here."
"Yes," Stephen replied, uncertain of what to do with batty and lecherous old ladies. "Ma'am."
Connor pulled on a t-shirt, scooped up a box that probably had the aforementioned biscuits in it, grabbed his other things and headed out, forcing Stephen to follow. "Bye!" he waved as they left. He was grinning, ambling unhurriedly down the street. "Well, that was ungracious of you," he said. "Being so abrupt with Mrs. Roberts. There won't be any biscuits for you, I bet."
"You do realise all the teenaged girls in town were staring at you," Stephen said abruptly. Connor was a disaster with girls, and he suddenly wanted not to be dealing with this sweaty, pleasantly muscled, unexpected Connor.
A Connor who laughed and waved a dismissive hand. "It's a small town. They're just excited by the new blood, and I'm not some stupid tourist."
They stopped at the B&B, and when Connor came out he was in his usual silly hat, waistcoat, tie, fingerless gloves and all. There was no trace of the pinup there, and Stephen shook it from his mind as a fluke.
********************
The second time he saw that Connor, Abby had had to send her car to get fixed at the mechanic's and Stephen had wound up offering to collect it for her while she had tests to run and he had a clear schedule for that weekend evening. He got to the garage to see the bonnet of Abby's car up, and a familiar figure leaning over it, showing of a tight arse in jeans, and this time in a black vest. "Okay! Turn her on!" he shouted to someone behind the wheel and the car started. "Great!" Connor said over the sound of the engine.
He stood up and slammed the bonnet down. Turning around, his eyes went wide. "Hello, Connor," Stephen said, trying for casual instead of surprised. "So, you really are good with cars?"
"Dad owns a garage back home," Connor replied cautiously. The line of black along his collarbone seemed to draw Stephen's eyes to the way the darker patches of sweat on the top emphasised the chest underneath. "I pretty much grew up with cars, and after high school I did my time in college to get certified as a mechanic."
"So, you're working on Abby's car for her, then?" Stephen asked, curious.
Connor shrugged. "I take a shift or two here from time to time. It's nice to keep my hand in."
He was putting on his shirt and waistcoat, and Stephen blurted out, "Why do you wear so many layers all the time?"
He blinked. "I just like how it looks," he said shrugging. "I think it's nifty."
"So, why didn't you tell her you'd bring the car back? She asked me to pick it up for her," Stephen asked, deciding he didn't want to think about 'nifty', when he was thinking about a trim waist and broad shoulders highlighted by a tight t-shirt and fitted waistcoat.
If the change in subject confused Connor, he didn't show it. "Abby doesn't let me drive her car. She keeps claiming I'll crash it."
Stephen let Connor drive back and discovered that Connor drove like he was in competition with Michael Schumacher, using some stunts with the handbrake that let him dodge the police and slide into places in traffic no human should have been able to manage. "I like cars," Connor commented idly.
When Stephen got out, he realised the adrenaline rush was comparable to facing down a troodon with nothing but a knife. He refused to think about the way the human body tends to react in relief at surviving terrifying events and fluffed his jacket a bit more, wishing it were longer in the front.
********************
He wasn't anywhere, per se, the third time. Well, he was in a garage, not quite sure where, and Connor was working on some fancy American muscle car, this time in a bright red vest that just pulled the eye right to his chest. He was bending over, picking up tools, moving heavy things, his muscles flexing and twisting.
Stephen drifted over, not really sure why, to where Connor was bent over the engine, doing something arcane to it. He stood up, grinning that smile with it's dimpled sweetness. "So, you want to," he rattled off something that sounded rather complex to Stephen, something about the carbeurator and wiring. Not sure what he was agreeing to, Stephen nodded, taking the spanner Connor handed him.
He leaned over, reaching out to the bit he was supposed to take off, when he had trouble getting it to latch on just right. From behind him, a warm body pressed, and a hand, with its long fingers that normally danced over the laptop, caressing the keys, wrapped around Stephen's wrist with a surprising wiry strength. The other hand landed on Stephen's hip, leaving him distracted as the first guided him into the right spot to unscrew the part.
That second hand inched slowly over, Stephen's whole concentration on its movement, rather than on whatever Connor was rattling in his ear about what was to be done with the car. Just as the hand slipped the rest of the way forward, tracing up his inner thigh . . .
He bolted awake to find himself hard, one hand already tight on his cock. The sudden loss of the warm body at his back, the hands on him and the soft voice in his ear were briefly disorientating. But he was so hard and his hand was already moving without conscious direction. His thumb brushing over the head, collecting the liquid seeping from it and slicking the path of the movement.
He groaned as images spilled over in his mind. Tight black t-shirts, cheeky grin, skinny jeans, deep brown eyes and that bloody car mechanic pinup he'd seen the first time in that tiny town. Sweat and bare arms, dirt and muscles, adrenaline and sweetness all in one package.
Stephen tightened his grip, thrusting harder, wanting more, needing more pressure and more friction. His hips snapped back and forth and his other hand roamed his body, a poor replacement for long fingers and the warmth of skin against his own. His imagination filling in the gaps with pieces of memory strung together, Stephen barely muffled his shout as he came, collapsing down again, panting.
***********************
It was a bloody hot day, the four of them stuck in the Hilux, driving back from another trip out of London into the countryside. The air conditioner in the car was broken, and Connor had bowed to the inevitable, down to just a t-shirt that was soaked with sweat and clung to him. Stephen watched him through the rearview mirror, trying to take his mind off his sprained ankle. It was already wrapped and iced, but when he thought about it, it just made it ache all over again, and right then he'd rather be distracted from it by more pleasant thoughts.
The car was in bad shape after being charged by an angry iguanodon a few times, and they had just reached an empty stretch of motorway with nothing on it for miles when it made a few sad grinding sounds and died.
Cutter was out of the car first, yanking open the bonnet as though he might see something he could fix. Stephen shook his head. Nick was brilliant, but the only way he'd fix this was if he was lucky enough to see something obvious, like a lemur ripping out bits of wiring. Otherwise, he was utterly clueless and would just have to give up.
Abby was apparently aware of this and had her mobile out already. "I'll get the AA on the line," she started, then stared in irritation at her phone. "I've got no reception. Anyone else?"
They all quickly checked, but not one mobile was getting anything. Nick slammed the lid back down in pique, and snapped, "Right. Abby, you come with me, Connor, you stay with Stephen and the car. We'll get someone out here to tow it."
Without another word, the two marched off, leaving Connor and Stephen alone together in the heat. Connor immediately made a disgusted noise and popped the bonnet open again. He was soon poking through the various supplies they had, muttering about the car and that Cutter should have changed the oil. "Stephen, could you shift to the driver's seat for a bit?" he asked. "I just need someone to turn the key a few times. See what happens when the engine gets going."
Obligingly Stephen did it a few times as asked, but eventually Connor became absorbed in some complex bit of work and stopped asking. With the heat and everything, Stephen settled in to nap, waking up with a start when Connor banged on the window. While he'd been sleeping, the sky had opened up and it had started pouring rain. Connor was back, in a white vest, but while Stephen thought he'd seen clinging cloth on Connor before, now the techie was soaking wet.
Connor opened the door, looking a tad put out, and said, "Look, I get that you've got no reason to be out there, but would you -- mmph!"
He was cut off as Stephen lost all sense at the fourth time he'd seen Connor in a vest and kissed him. He turned sideways in the driver's seat, tugging Connor against him. Connor's eyes were wide and shocked when Stephen pulled away. He was also breathing hard, and one of his hand unconsciously slipped down to the front of his trousers, clearly making a quick adjustment. "Those girls weren't just interested in 'new blood', Connor," Stephen told him.
"I . . . oh . . ." Connor swallowed, then suddenly seemed to firm up some internal decision. And he leaned forward and kissed Stephen back. The car door was open, the stupid thing was dinging in warning and they were both getting soaked, but Connor's hands were underneath Stephen's shirt and he was leaning forward, pressed against the older man, anxious and eager.
A jolt of pain from where he'd had to shift his foot for balance brought Stephen out of his lust-induced haze. "Damn," he hissed.
Connor frowned, then saw Stephen's rapid shift in weight, realising what was going on. "Right. Start the car, would you? I think I've got it."
A turn of the key proved Connor had, indeed, fixed it. They climbed in, Connor taking the driver's seat and following Stephen's directions back to his flat. Once they were both in, there was a long, awkward pause as Stephen sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and got his shoes off. Connor had kicked his off at the door, covered in dirt from the road as they were. The pause went on so long that Stephen began to feel that he'd lost his moment there. He'd always been a creature of instinct and impulse. He saw what felt right to him and he just did it. Stopping things in the middle seemed to have lost him the impetus.
Which was when the ARC's resident nerd said, "You know, this vest is soaking wet. I should probably just take it off." The delivery was fumbled and awkward, Connor unsure of how to do that sort of thing, but he still took the vest off. Under it was an expanse of slender and muscled chest.
"Get over here," Stephen told him, grinning. Connor immediately joined him, this time neither initiating the kiss because they both leaned in together. Falling back to the bed, there was some trouble getting Stephen's wet and clinging trousers off over his ankle and Connor was constantly distracted by what seemed to be an attempt to lick Stephen all over, something Stephen was having trouble objecting to in any cogent way. But finally they were both naked and entwined on the bed.
Stephen hadn't been at all prepared for this, so rather than giving a shot at having sex, he just reached down and wrapped his fingers around Connor's cock, grinning as Connor flung his head back, gasping and grabbing at Stephen's arse, apparently for balance. Stephen kissed him fiercely, smiling into his lips as Connor writhed and bucked under him. He lost a few moments when one of Connor's hands found their way to Stephen's erection, clever strong fingers caressing the length and driving Stephen utterly mad.
It was incredibly sexy, and the world narrowed to their mutual masturbation, slick skin and the groans and panting of them both. Then everything dissolved in a brilliant rush of ecstasy. The lassitude after was pretty brilliant too, as Connor, octopus-like, wrapped himself around Stephen, who couldn't even complain, because it was really quite nice.
Stephen woke to the sound of Nick clearing his throat pointedly and Connor squeaking in embarrassed shock.
"Maybe next time the pair of you can keep it in your pants long enough not to drive right past Abby and I on your way to shag?" Nick said pointedly.
They had, hadn't they?
"Oops."
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Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I own nothing here and I'm making no money from it either.
Rating: NC-17 This is pretty much just . . . yeah, there's not really much of a plot.
Summary: Connor likes to work on cars. He likes to do it in a vest. Stephen likes to see him working on cars in a vest.
A/N: See, I had this whole funny thing with Jenny and Connor and jokes about casting a Primeval movie. And then Stephen came by and he had this warren with him and Jenny wandered off to fantasise about Brad Pitt, leaving me with Connor and Stephen and vests and bunnies. Anyhow, Connor having a car mechanic background is just something of a thing I have, so I'm using it. Consider it head!canon for me.
***********************************
It all started after the raptors in the mall. Cutter wanted to punish Connor for not spending enough time on the gun range practicing, so when they headed out en masse to deal with an anomaly that had opened up in a hamlet miles from London, Connor was relegated to sitting impatiently at the B&B, nothing to do but play on his laptop and wait for the others to get back from the excitement of sending the creatures back through the anomaly.
Stephen had been all for it. The blind panic that had come from Connor forgetting to get Abby after he'd shot her was not something he'd soon forget, and cooling his heels away from the excitement might do Connor some good. They'd come back to find Connor had fallen asleep waiting for them, his laptop open and ready for use.
The anomaly was still open, so they'd had to stick around another day, and Stephen had wound up delegated to go back and collect Connor from the B&B to take readings and play assistant. He'd arrived at the house, no Connor. Not in the room, not in the dining room, living room, back or front yard, nowhere. Frowning, he started down the street, hoping to track down where the errant geek was, and paused, amused, when he heard two teenaged girls chattering.
"Isn't he just gorgeous?"
"I know. Wearing that grey vest and the jeans? It's just . . ." the second one giggled.
The first said, "And his arms!"
"Sophie said he's only going to be around a day or two more at most."
"Then we'd best get to the garage while there's still the chance, isn't there?"
"Oh, yes."
They scampered down the street, joining a pack of girls who were all doing a terrible job at pretending not to stare from the tiny ice cream parlour across the street. He shook his head, following behind them as there wasn't exactly much street to look for Connor on, thinking he might find the geek at the tea shop, getting caffinated.
No luck there, but that changed when he passed the garage with its crowd of girls. An elderly woman, with a leering grin on her face, had crossed the street in front of Stephen, heading for that same garage. Apparently whoever 'he' was, he was attractive enough to have old women coming by to stare. Annoyed with Connor for having now gone missing, Stephen was sharply checked by the sound of a familiar voice squawking in surprise, followed by the scandalised giggling of the girls.
He turned to look, and there was Connor in a grey vest and jeans, streaks of dirt on his arms and looking sweaty and quite . . . well, that explained the teenaged girls, and the old woman apparently pinching Connor's bum. It seemed that Connor had been working on cars in the garage in his free time. He crossed the street, coming up behind the team geek, who didn't so much resemble a geek at that moment, as a sexy mechnic calendar pinup.
"Cutter wants you to head out, Connor," he said, uncomfortably aware of the old woman looking him up and down.
Amazingly, Connor looked disappointed. "Right." He turned to the woman, "Thanks for the biscuits, Mrs. Roberts. I just finished up with your car. The brakes should be good now."
"You're more than welcome for the biscuits," the woman said. "I don't often get the chance to bake for such a delightful young man." The smile on her face made it clear just why she thought he was delightful. Then she turned to Stephen, "Oh, are you one of his friends? He mentioned there was a university study of local animal life going on and that's why you're all out here."
"Yes," Stephen replied, uncertain of what to do with batty and lecherous old ladies. "Ma'am."
Connor pulled on a t-shirt, scooped up a box that probably had the aforementioned biscuits in it, grabbed his other things and headed out, forcing Stephen to follow. "Bye!" he waved as they left. He was grinning, ambling unhurriedly down the street. "Well, that was ungracious of you," he said. "Being so abrupt with Mrs. Roberts. There won't be any biscuits for you, I bet."
"You do realise all the teenaged girls in town were staring at you," Stephen said abruptly. Connor was a disaster with girls, and he suddenly wanted not to be dealing with this sweaty, pleasantly muscled, unexpected Connor.
A Connor who laughed and waved a dismissive hand. "It's a small town. They're just excited by the new blood, and I'm not some stupid tourist."
They stopped at the B&B, and when Connor came out he was in his usual silly hat, waistcoat, tie, fingerless gloves and all. There was no trace of the pinup there, and Stephen shook it from his mind as a fluke.
********************
The second time he saw that Connor, Abby had had to send her car to get fixed at the mechanic's and Stephen had wound up offering to collect it for her while she had tests to run and he had a clear schedule for that weekend evening. He got to the garage to see the bonnet of Abby's car up, and a familiar figure leaning over it, showing of a tight arse in jeans, and this time in a black vest. "Okay! Turn her on!" he shouted to someone behind the wheel and the car started. "Great!" Connor said over the sound of the engine.
He stood up and slammed the bonnet down. Turning around, his eyes went wide. "Hello, Connor," Stephen said, trying for casual instead of surprised. "So, you really are good with cars?"
"Dad owns a garage back home," Connor replied cautiously. The line of black along his collarbone seemed to draw Stephen's eyes to the way the darker patches of sweat on the top emphasised the chest underneath. "I pretty much grew up with cars, and after high school I did my time in college to get certified as a mechanic."
"So, you're working on Abby's car for her, then?" Stephen asked, curious.
Connor shrugged. "I take a shift or two here from time to time. It's nice to keep my hand in."
He was putting on his shirt and waistcoat, and Stephen blurted out, "Why do you wear so many layers all the time?"
He blinked. "I just like how it looks," he said shrugging. "I think it's nifty."
"So, why didn't you tell her you'd bring the car back? She asked me to pick it up for her," Stephen asked, deciding he didn't want to think about 'nifty', when he was thinking about a trim waist and broad shoulders highlighted by a tight t-shirt and fitted waistcoat.
If the change in subject confused Connor, he didn't show it. "Abby doesn't let me drive her car. She keeps claiming I'll crash it."
Stephen let Connor drive back and discovered that Connor drove like he was in competition with Michael Schumacher, using some stunts with the handbrake that let him dodge the police and slide into places in traffic no human should have been able to manage. "I like cars," Connor commented idly.
When Stephen got out, he realised the adrenaline rush was comparable to facing down a troodon with nothing but a knife. He refused to think about the way the human body tends to react in relief at surviving terrifying events and fluffed his jacket a bit more, wishing it were longer in the front.
********************
He wasn't anywhere, per se, the third time. Well, he was in a garage, not quite sure where, and Connor was working on some fancy American muscle car, this time in a bright red vest that just pulled the eye right to his chest. He was bending over, picking up tools, moving heavy things, his muscles flexing and twisting.
Stephen drifted over, not really sure why, to where Connor was bent over the engine, doing something arcane to it. He stood up, grinning that smile with it's dimpled sweetness. "So, you want to," he rattled off something that sounded rather complex to Stephen, something about the carbeurator and wiring. Not sure what he was agreeing to, Stephen nodded, taking the spanner Connor handed him.
He leaned over, reaching out to the bit he was supposed to take off, when he had trouble getting it to latch on just right. From behind him, a warm body pressed, and a hand, with its long fingers that normally danced over the laptop, caressing the keys, wrapped around Stephen's wrist with a surprising wiry strength. The other hand landed on Stephen's hip, leaving him distracted as the first guided him into the right spot to unscrew the part.
That second hand inched slowly over, Stephen's whole concentration on its movement, rather than on whatever Connor was rattling in his ear about what was to be done with the car. Just as the hand slipped the rest of the way forward, tracing up his inner thigh . . .
He bolted awake to find himself hard, one hand already tight on his cock. The sudden loss of the warm body at his back, the hands on him and the soft voice in his ear were briefly disorientating. But he was so hard and his hand was already moving without conscious direction. His thumb brushing over the head, collecting the liquid seeping from it and slicking the path of the movement.
He groaned as images spilled over in his mind. Tight black t-shirts, cheeky grin, skinny jeans, deep brown eyes and that bloody car mechanic pinup he'd seen the first time in that tiny town. Sweat and bare arms, dirt and muscles, adrenaline and sweetness all in one package.
Stephen tightened his grip, thrusting harder, wanting more, needing more pressure and more friction. His hips snapped back and forth and his other hand roamed his body, a poor replacement for long fingers and the warmth of skin against his own. His imagination filling in the gaps with pieces of memory strung together, Stephen barely muffled his shout as he came, collapsing down again, panting.
***********************
It was a bloody hot day, the four of them stuck in the Hilux, driving back from another trip out of London into the countryside. The air conditioner in the car was broken, and Connor had bowed to the inevitable, down to just a t-shirt that was soaked with sweat and clung to him. Stephen watched him through the rearview mirror, trying to take his mind off his sprained ankle. It was already wrapped and iced, but when he thought about it, it just made it ache all over again, and right then he'd rather be distracted from it by more pleasant thoughts.
The car was in bad shape after being charged by an angry iguanodon a few times, and they had just reached an empty stretch of motorway with nothing on it for miles when it made a few sad grinding sounds and died.
Cutter was out of the car first, yanking open the bonnet as though he might see something he could fix. Stephen shook his head. Nick was brilliant, but the only way he'd fix this was if he was lucky enough to see something obvious, like a lemur ripping out bits of wiring. Otherwise, he was utterly clueless and would just have to give up.
Abby was apparently aware of this and had her mobile out already. "I'll get the AA on the line," she started, then stared in irritation at her phone. "I've got no reception. Anyone else?"
They all quickly checked, but not one mobile was getting anything. Nick slammed the lid back down in pique, and snapped, "Right. Abby, you come with me, Connor, you stay with Stephen and the car. We'll get someone out here to tow it."
Without another word, the two marched off, leaving Connor and Stephen alone together in the heat. Connor immediately made a disgusted noise and popped the bonnet open again. He was soon poking through the various supplies they had, muttering about the car and that Cutter should have changed the oil. "Stephen, could you shift to the driver's seat for a bit?" he asked. "I just need someone to turn the key a few times. See what happens when the engine gets going."
Obligingly Stephen did it a few times as asked, but eventually Connor became absorbed in some complex bit of work and stopped asking. With the heat and everything, Stephen settled in to nap, waking up with a start when Connor banged on the window. While he'd been sleeping, the sky had opened up and it had started pouring rain. Connor was back, in a white vest, but while Stephen thought he'd seen clinging cloth on Connor before, now the techie was soaking wet.
Connor opened the door, looking a tad put out, and said, "Look, I get that you've got no reason to be out there, but would you -- mmph!"
He was cut off as Stephen lost all sense at the fourth time he'd seen Connor in a vest and kissed him. He turned sideways in the driver's seat, tugging Connor against him. Connor's eyes were wide and shocked when Stephen pulled away. He was also breathing hard, and one of his hand unconsciously slipped down to the front of his trousers, clearly making a quick adjustment. "Those girls weren't just interested in 'new blood', Connor," Stephen told him.
"I . . . oh . . ." Connor swallowed, then suddenly seemed to firm up some internal decision. And he leaned forward and kissed Stephen back. The car door was open, the stupid thing was dinging in warning and they were both getting soaked, but Connor's hands were underneath Stephen's shirt and he was leaning forward, pressed against the older man, anxious and eager.
A jolt of pain from where he'd had to shift his foot for balance brought Stephen out of his lust-induced haze. "Damn," he hissed.
Connor frowned, then saw Stephen's rapid shift in weight, realising what was going on. "Right. Start the car, would you? I think I've got it."
A turn of the key proved Connor had, indeed, fixed it. They climbed in, Connor taking the driver's seat and following Stephen's directions back to his flat. Once they were both in, there was a long, awkward pause as Stephen sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and got his shoes off. Connor had kicked his off at the door, covered in dirt from the road as they were. The pause went on so long that Stephen began to feel that he'd lost his moment there. He'd always been a creature of instinct and impulse. He saw what felt right to him and he just did it. Stopping things in the middle seemed to have lost him the impetus.
Which was when the ARC's resident nerd said, "You know, this vest is soaking wet. I should probably just take it off." The delivery was fumbled and awkward, Connor unsure of how to do that sort of thing, but he still took the vest off. Under it was an expanse of slender and muscled chest.
"Get over here," Stephen told him, grinning. Connor immediately joined him, this time neither initiating the kiss because they both leaned in together. Falling back to the bed, there was some trouble getting Stephen's wet and clinging trousers off over his ankle and Connor was constantly distracted by what seemed to be an attempt to lick Stephen all over, something Stephen was having trouble objecting to in any cogent way. But finally they were both naked and entwined on the bed.
Stephen hadn't been at all prepared for this, so rather than giving a shot at having sex, he just reached down and wrapped his fingers around Connor's cock, grinning as Connor flung his head back, gasping and grabbing at Stephen's arse, apparently for balance. Stephen kissed him fiercely, smiling into his lips as Connor writhed and bucked under him. He lost a few moments when one of Connor's hands found their way to Stephen's erection, clever strong fingers caressing the length and driving Stephen utterly mad.
It was incredibly sexy, and the world narrowed to their mutual masturbation, slick skin and the groans and panting of them both. Then everything dissolved in a brilliant rush of ecstasy. The lassitude after was pretty brilliant too, as Connor, octopus-like, wrapped himself around Stephen, who couldn't even complain, because it was really quite nice.
Stephen woke to the sound of Nick clearing his throat pointedly and Connor squeaking in embarrassed shock.
"Maybe next time the pair of you can keep it in your pants long enough not to drive right past Abby and I on your way to shag?" Nick said pointedly.
They had, hadn't they?
"Oops."
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