Primeval fic: There Are Other Words But They Just Don't Work

Jun 03, 2012 13:48

Title: There are Other Words But They Just Don't Work
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: Don't own it, not making money off it, 'nuff said.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Stephen is a berk. He doesn't really care. Then . . . Connor Temple.
AN: So, first, the title is taken from the song You Jerk, by Kim Stockwood. I don't know how popular she was outside Canada, because I never looked into it, but this song was on the charts many, many moons ago when I was still a teenager. Anyhow, it's always been a favourite of mine. Second, yes, I know perfectly well that jerks who use people for one night stands don't change, but this is fiction and I like Stephen, so . . . you know how he's kind of a jerk to Abby back in S1? This is sort of an explanation, assuming, of course, he wound up with Connor in the end. Or something.

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Stephen was a complete berk. He knew it, too. He made no bones about it, shook his head over the foolish girls who went on about how someone so handsome must have a tragic past and if only they could get through to him, they'd fix him right up and he'd be ever so grateful to be their boyfriend.

Ridiculous.

Nick twitted him about it, but the fact was that he'd never met anyone, male or female, who could hold his interest much past a few nights of sex. Helen had been the only one, and that was just a mountain of troubles he should have known better about.

Ultimately, that was why Allison was such a godsend. She was just like him, in that she wanted no strings, just a good romp between the sheets, and then off again. The problem with Allison was that she practically lived in Brazil, which meant chances with her were few and far between. Worse, the whole mess with the ARC had left him with the problem of odd hours, people who'd be insulted if he bolted when his mobile went off and just not being able to explain what he did. If he wanted a nice one night stand with a lazy morning after and the chance of doing it again sometime, he was going to have to find someone within the ARC.

He instantly dismissed Abby. She was a relationship sort of girl. One of those who'd be all hurt if he told them that all he'd wanted was a roll in the hay to release some tension. The SFs were fun enough, but he wouldn't want to mess up the camaraderie that he'd been building there. After all, it takes a lot when people tend to call you 'pretty boy', to get respect from hardened soldier types. The last thing he needed was that sort of trouble.

Obviously not Nick. Besides being painfully straight, Nick was hung up on Claudia Brown, and he was also a relationship type, for all that the man had no grasp of how people worked. Claudia was no better a choice, both because Nick was his friend and he wasn't doing that again, but also because she'd already dismissed Stephen as pretty and uninteresting.

The sight of Connor Temple tripping over his own feet and sending paper flying in every direction put a smirk on his lips and a new direction to his thoughts.

"Oh! Hi! Stephen!" He knelt at Stephen's feet, scrambling to collect the paper on the floor. "Professor Cutter sent me to find you. He wanted to talk to you about the analysis of the bolus from the mosasaur."

Stephen joined Connor on the floor in collecting the paper and gave the younger man a considering look. Despite the fact that Connor clearly wasn't a physically gifted person he seemed reasonably fit, his face was attractive enough and best of all, he'd be easily intimidated into keeping quiet. All he needed to be sure of was whether or not he'd be interested in Stephen, considering how obsessed the geek was with Abby.

A smile, calculated to catch the eye, just flirty enough to get the right sort of attention, and he had his answer. Connor flushed, and Stephen said, "Here," handing the last few papers over. "Thanks for the message." He waited a beat as they both stood, then asked, "So, how've you been getting on?"

Connor frowned. "How do you mean?"

"It's a bit of a transition from student life to everything else," he said casually, deliberately brushing against Connor as he went to lean against the wall in the way Allison always said made him look like, 'sex on legs'. "And you are playing a bit of a second fiddle to all of us."

"It's no problem," said the younger man with a slightly strained smile. "I mean, I'm getting to see prehistoric animals and it's sort of proved parts of my thesis right. Even if I can't ever do my viva on it, it's sort of nice to have my theory about temporal displacement proved."

"Still," Stephen put a hand on Connor's shoulder and saw the telltale signs that he was right, Connor was attracted to him, thank God. "Why don't I take you out for a beer tonight at the pub. You'd probably like the chance to get away from all this for a bit with a friend."

Connor's smile was bright, though a tad confused, and Stephen shook his head once he was out of sight. The kid didn't have a lot of instincts, but the few he had were clearly okay, because Stephen's desire to take him out of an evening didn't make sense unless you knew what he was up to. However, he'd never let himself feel guilt over people who'd make more of one night of sex than it was, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. He'd just make sure after that Connor wasn't going to kick up a fuss, and that would be that.

He really was a complete bastard.

He got his first shock that evening. Connor had told him that he had something he needed to drop off home, offering to meet him there instead of going straight after work. Not wanting to risk losing any sort of momentum, he promptly offered to take Connor both to Abby's flat and the pub after. Connor nipped inside, but Stephen was startled when he came out. Instead of the usual nerdy wear, Connor was suddenly dressed in the sort of thing you'd see your average labourer wear to a pub. The jeans were loose-fitting, the t-shirt had the national rugby team logo on it and Connor was wearing, of all things, a leather jacket. In fact, the only thing he was still wearing from before were the gloves.

"You changed," he said inanely.

Connor shrugged. "I didn't think you'd be heading to the university's engineering pub," he explained. "Really, I just don't like getting caught in bar fights dressed the other way. I keep losing vests and hats like that."

"Bar fight?" he repeated. He was going to have to get ahold of himself.

Another shrug. "Well, the really fun pubs are the ones where they don't mind if there's a bit of a scuffle," Connor informed him. "I mean, when you're not going to the university ones where you can actually talk to people about something other than football or rugby."

The pub they wound up at was one of Stephen's favourites, and there'd never been a fight there the whole time he'd been going there. Instead there was a pub quiz and the match between Everton and Chelsea, Connor jokingly rooting against Chelsea, "For the sake of a little variety." He also wasn't getting drunk very fast either. He'd ordered food, water, paced himself and generally ruined all of Stephen's plans to get him tipsy and home to bed. On the other hand . . .

"How can you say that about Chelsea's defence?" he demanded of Connor. "Their goalkeeper hasn't had to do a thing through the whole match."

"Pfft," Connor waved a dismissive hand. "That's just because Everton's strikers keep bollixing up the play and you know it."

Nick followed golf, the SFs all seemed to like rugby, Abby didn't watch sports and Stephen had no close friends from the university, really. Most of them were scattered around, too far away to call up of an evening. Connor did, though. They watched the game, rooting for opposing teams, and long after Stephen would have otherwise carted someone off to his flat, they were still there, battling it out over trivia.

The place got warmer as time passed, and in a lull, Stephen suddenly became aware that Connor had taken off his jacket, and underneath the t-shirt was tautly stretched over a more muscled and nicer figure than Stephen had expected. And he remembered his reasons for doing this as he felt a sudden rush of interest below the belt. "Hey, it's getting a bit loud don't you think?" he asked.

"We can go if you want," Connor told him, grinning. How had he not noticed how attractive Connor could be? Stephen wondered as he carefully stood, tugging his jacket on and then down, quickly.

They were passing an alley when Stephen couldn't take it anymore. Because he'd had a plan for his evening and the anticipation was suddenly killing him. Connor let out a startled squeak as Stephen slammed him into the wall of the alley and kissed him. There was a pause, but Stephen was very good, coaxing gentle kisses to start with, easing Connor into the idea, slow, sweet ones that raised the temperature and got Connor's cooperation. Then a careful press of a hip into his teammate's cock. Just enough to hint and get a responding swell, along with a light tracing of the lips with his tongue.

A gasp from his partner and Stephen slipped his tongue into the other's mouth, just enough to tease and get Connor to meet him halfway.

Connor's hands had been on his shoulders, frozen there in surprise, but as his head tilted to accept deeper kisses, they slid down, Stephen feeling the fingertips easing into his jeans' back pockets and pulling their hips together. Now he moaned as he finally felt the wonderful sense of friction and pressure on his erection as Connor pressed the sharp outline of his hip into Stephen's cock. It had been far too long, he thought as he slid his hands under Connor's shirt to get at the skin there.

He pulled away from Connor's now enthusiastic kisses to slide past the stubble down to the other man's neck, lightly nipping and getting a groan and obliging tilt of the head from him. "God, Stephen!"

It was brilliant, but he had to keep his head. A few more minutes of this, grinding harder and faster as he kneaded at the skin he could easily reach, and he had Connor just where he wanted him. He pulled away to suggest they go to his flat when a gloved hand moved between them and wrapped around the bulge he was sporting. Stephen bit Connor's shoulder to muffle his shout, because dear God, that felt good. He wasn't even sure where he found the will to mutter into Connor's ear, "My place?"

"Yeah," Connor gasped. "Sure."

Despite that it was his suggestion, Stephen stumbled in surprise when Connor stopped and pulled away. It took a moment to reorient himself and get back to the car. Somehow they made it back to his flat without giving in to the temptation of each other, but the moment they were through the door, he couldn't stand it anymore.

Connor yelped as Stephen practically threw him to the bed, but cooperated enthusiastically in getting his clothing off, then tonguing Stephen's nipples before slipping down to manage one long, languid lick up the length of his cock. Then Stephen heard himself curse and reached into the bedside table for the lube and a condom. Connor's eyes were wide and dark, but the look on his face wasn't fearful, but eager.

He'd clearly misjudged Connor in a few things, but not least of which was experience, Stephen realised. Because Connor knew the drill, was thankfully not going to fight him over who got to fuck who that evening, and easily relaxed around Stephen's fingers, thrusting and making his eyes roll back in his head as he realised how good this was going to feel.

In an impressive manoeuvre, Connor managed to sit up without dislodging the fingers inside him, and Stephen felt his mind melt a little as the condom was rolled down his cock, and a spurt of lube was spread over it. Connor's fingers kept tightening convulsively, and Stephen's hips rolled into the grip on his erection. He could barely concentrate, and only the sound of Connor's voice, begging him, "Please, Stephen, please!" focussed him enough to remove his fingers, push Connor back into the pillows and ease the head of his cock past the ring of muscle.

It was tight and warm and perfect, and Connor was restlessly shifting under him, pushing forward, getting himself further down onto Stephen. Neither of them lasted long after that, because just as he was fully seated, Connor grabbed his own cock and started pumping, making Stephen lose his mind and slam into him, needing to move, to reach that peak now.

The world whited out around him, and he came back to himself, still buried in Connor's arse, feeling relaxed and exhausted. He barely had the wherewithal to pull out and sprawl out beside Connor, tossing the condom in the bin. He was going to say something, make sure Connor understood this was a one time thing, not a relationship or anything like that, but tiredness slammed into him and he fell asleep.

He woke the next morning to the worrisome feeling of someone pressed against him, and remembered as he opened his eyes and saw Connor wrapped around him, that he'd meant this to be a sort of potentially repeated one night stand. The way he had with Allison, only more convenient. It was going to be harder to do that now that he'd let Connor spend the night. Still, there was no way in hell he'd ever let himself get into a relationship with Connor. Sure he'd had more fun with him the night before than he'd had in a long time, and the sex had been brilliant, but he liked being single. So, bracing himself for unpleasantness, he prodded Connor awake.

"Hmm?" The dark eyes fluttered open, then Connor seemed to realise where he was. "Good morning," he said.

Best to nip any thoughts of morning cuddling in the bud. "Morning Connor. Look, I know this isn't going to-"

He was interrupted. "Be more than last night? Sure. Not a problem. I wouldn't expect it anyhow," he said with a grin. "Although I wouldn't mind if we did a one nighter again sometime."

That was practically what Allison had said to him, and Stephen grinned at Connor, relieved he wouldn't have to pry off a clingy, sobbing, idiot who didn't seem to understand that sex wasn't a relationship. "Well, as long as we're both clear on that."

They wound up in the shower together, and that was a pretty brilliant way to start a day, Stephen found.

Connor was just as perfect as Allison. He never stuck around past when he was wanted, he was a brilliant shag and he was just as fine with the one nighters as Stephen was. It meant there was no need to boot him out of an evening, because he'd leave the next morning without whinging on and wanting Stephen to kiss him or something. It was nice not having to get up when he was all shagged out.

He started to suspect something was wrong, however, the third time he'd dragged Connor back to his flat just to sleep over. It had begun when he'd caught Connor sleeping on the ARC's break room couch.

"Connor?"

"Mmph?" Connor twitched, then gradually woke, his eyes fluttering slowly open and focussing on Stephen's face. "Wassat?"

Stephen dropped to an easy crouch. "Are you okay?"

"Just tired," Connor muttered as he pulled himself to a sitting position. "It's just . . . Abby's not really good at the whole roommate thing. Doesn't quite get that some people actually like sleeping past five in the morning and all."

"And most of your work on the database and network gets done late in the day," Stephen commented. He'd seen that. "Why is that anyhow?"

Connor shrugged. "Mostly because when you or Cutter or Abby need the database or what-all, it's regular business hours, yeah? I can't work on the files when they're open," he explained. "And you lot tend to ask me to do the grunt work after you all finish. Which is fine, I mean, I can't work on things if I don't have the data to do them or access or anything, but if I can't work until after, I can't until after."

"So, you're sleeping here?" Stephen asked. "Look. It's Friday, come back to my flat and you can catch up there. I can't promise I'll be good company, but I'll keep quiet so you can sleep."

He'd steered Connor to the bed and watched as the other man had pretty nearly crashed, then slept the clock 'round. He'd climbed into bed with him that evening as Connor was still passed out (looked like he'd been going longer without a decent night's sleep than he'd let on) and had, for the first time, gone to sleep with someone he hadn't actually just slept with. When he woke the next morning, Connor had made him breakfast as a thank you and neither had spoken of it.

The suspicion that something wasn't quite right amplified the second time he felt a surge of jealousy because, "It's nice being able to shag without strings," Connor commented idly as they sat in the pub before heading back to Stephen's. "I mean, how awful would it be to finally get Abby's attention how I want it and then be in a relationship with someone else."

He was about 60% sure that the love bite he'd put on Connor's neck wasn't the result of making sure everyone knew Connor was shagging someone.

Nick had noticed and commented on Stephen and Connor's regular weekend pub night dates -- not dates, evenings. They were evenings out with a mate who liked football as much as he did, where they'd sit and watch the game and chat for hours and then head back to Stephen's to relieve some tension. They weren't dating.

Just to prove it to himself, he'd skipped out on it and had gone skirt chasing, picking up a gorgeous brunette girl. He'd taken her back to his place, had a fantastic time of it and she'd even left willingly right after. Then he showered, went to bed, and vaguely thought that he missed the octopus-like way Connor tended to cling in his sleep as he drifted off feeling unsatisfied.

The next morning he bolted awake to the unsettling realisation that, even if Connor didn't want it, he wanted Connor. He liked having the geek around all the time and except for this one time, he hadn't even slept with anyone else for months.

So, he did the only logical thing he could. "Hey, Conn?"

"Yeah?"

"Look, these last few months have been great and all, but I think it's all getting a little repetitive for me, same for you, right?"

"Huh? Oh, sure, Stephen. I mean, we agreed at the start about this, didn't we?"

When he went home that evening, he flopped down, drinking a beer, until suddenly overtaken by a fit of anger he pitched the bottle at the wall. "Goddamnit, Connor. It didn't mean anything? You couldn't have fought me on it?"

The ire stuck with him and he flaunted his conquests, knowing that Connor was still too awkward to go out and simply reel in a partner at will. Everything was back to status quo for him, although it was fairly tiring to go skirt chasing of an evening after a full day's work and chasing around various creatures that didn't have the sense to stay in their own timelines.

He'd just had to peel off some girl who'd decided a night of damn good sex was equivalent to a proposal of marriage when someone pounded on his door. Stephen didn't even have time to answer as Abby stormed into his flat, marched up to him and slammed a fist into his face. "You're a complete berk! You know that?"

"What have I done to you, Abby?" he asked, wanting to just shower and crawl into bed, wondering when he'd turned into the lovesick puppy he'd expected Connor would be. Instead, Connor, it seemed, was better than he was at compartmentalising sex and friendship.

She glared. "To me, nothing. To Connor? It's taken me weeks to get out of him why he's sobbing into his pillow at night. And you have the gall to stand there and ask what you've done?"

"Abby!" came a shout from the door. "Abby, don't, it's fine."

"It's not fine, Connor," the blonde snapped. "Don't try to pretend he didn't hurt you when you broke up."

Connor shook his head. "It's not a breakup if there's no relationship to break up." He looked apologetically at Stephen. "I'm sorry. Abby . . . misunderstood."

"Misunderstood!" she nearly shrieked. "Connor, you sound like an abused spouse!"

The one thing Stephen had drawn from this was that, if Abby was to be believed, Connor had lied to him. "Abby, I think Connor and I need to talk."

She looked from one to the other, then back to Connor, who flapped his hands encouragingly at her. She turned to Stephen. "You listen to me, Stephen. If you hurt him any more, I won't let you wave me off, and I will hurt you. Physically. Are we clear?"

"Crystal," he assured her.

When she'd left, Connor sank to the couch with an exhausted-sounding sigh. "I'm sorry, Stephen. I wound up talking to her and-"

He cut off his . . . lover? Boyfriend? Erstwhile partner? "When we first started," there was a bare hitch as he thought to say relationship and discarded that thought instantly. "Shagging, did you really want a series of one night stands?"

Connor winced, and said, "Honestly, no. But . . ." he trailed off and shook his head. "It doesn't matter."

"But what?" Stephen insisted. What was this 'but' that might be the reason he was screaming on the inside for Connor to stay with him, to let him keep his football mate and dear friend, partner to shag with and potential to be so much more, what was it that was making Connor hesitate?

"Nothing," Connor insisted. "It's nothing, don't worry about it. Really, I was sort of stupid about it. I knew what I was getting into, yeah? No hurt feelings."

Stephen took the plunge. "Except mine."

"Wha'?" Connor's jaw dropped open and he stared. "What are you . . .?"

Maybe if he explained himself then Connor would explain back. "When I told you that I was tired of . . . this," he said, not wanting to put a label on anything, not wanting to touch the, perhaps touchy word, 'us'. "I was . . ." not scared, "I wasn't sure about what I wanted anymore, Connor."

Connor frowned in apparent confusion as he said, "What do you mean?"

"I never wanted to be in a relationship at all before," Stephen explained, starting to pace. The movement helped him think. Doing something had always helped him think. "I never wanted to be caught up with some clingy other person who wanted me to remember birthdays and anniversaries, flowers and all the little things that you have to change for them." He looked at Connor regretfully. "When you agreed, it was like Allison. She never wants anything long-term either, and it was brilliant to have someone who wouldn't cling." He ran his hands through his hair, aware he was making it stand on end, but not really caring because he could only say this once, would only let himself be this vulnerable once. "Then you come along being smart and funny and having all the things in the world in common to talk about, and you're bloody hot, do you even realise that? And then I realised I might be falling for you." He can't say the word love yet. Not yet, it's too soon, the fear is too raw to make that leap.

For all that he wasn't socially aware, Connor was brilliant, and could make leaps of logic that confounded anyone else with ease. "You broke up because you were scared that it might become a real relationship."

"Because it already was," Stephen admitted finally.

"I agreed to it," Connor told him abruptly, "Because I'm not cool or sexy or much of anything really that people want in a boyfriend. And I want things, you know? Sex and for someone to just bloody touch me sometimes, a slap on the back or a hug or something. So, I play along. If they want a one night stand, that's fine. I'll take what I can get because people laugh at me when I want something else. You've seen Abby." He smiled, a quirky, sad, twisted little thing, completely unlike his broad grins when he was truly happy or amused. "I knew the moment you asked me to a pub what you were after. You are a right berk sometimes, you know. Getting me pissed and tossing me out when you were done. It's happened to me often enough."

Stephen breathed in, sharply. "You took control of the evening from the start," he realised slowly. "I'm sorry."

Connor shook his head, standing up and in a burst of unexpected speed was at Stephen's side, pulling him into a kiss. "I'm not."

They should probably talk more, Stephen thought, but it had been weeks since he'd had Connor's mouth on his, that body against his own, and he couldn't think for the surge of want and need that took away any conscious thought. His hands found their way up to Connor's face, cupping his cheeks and holding him there as Stephen fervently kissed him, trying to apologise for treating Connor like shit.

Connor pulled away, only to tug Stephen's shirt overhead and start sliding down his chest, placing kisses as he moved down. "No," Stephen said, pulling him up. "I should be apologising right now." Connor looked baffled at this, until Stephen dropped to his knees and unfastened Connor's trousers, tugging a rapidly growing erection out of his boxers.

When Stephen slipped the head past his lips, offering a first tentative kiss and lick, Connor's whole body jerked and he grabbed the wall. Whatever else you might say about him, Stephen was well-practised, and soon had Connor shaking and repeating his name over and over, begging for more. He obliged, finally taking the cock into his mouth, sucking slow but hard, playing his tongue against it, his hands on Connor's hips, encouraging his . . . his lover to move. It was a sudden and spastic jerk that marked Connor's loss of control of himself, and he began to thrust, a litany pleas, "Stephen, God, please, please, Stephen, God, I need . . . gonna . . . God . . . Stephen!"

Connor came, shaking and crying out and sank to the floor, where Stephen held him and murmured how sorry he was.

When Connor stopped trembling in the aftermath, he told Stephen, "How about you take me to bed, and we can deal with you?" The hand that cupped Stephen in his trousers left no doubt as to what Connor was saying. "We'll call it all water under the bridge, and maybe start again?" He grinned, this time with the familiar and beautiful grin that had taken to making Stephen's pulse race. "And I can promise you, I never remember anniversaries and birthdays either. I guess we'll just have to have a lot of make-up sex for when we forget."

Stephen grinned back, laughing, and let Connor take the lead.

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humour, primeval, adult, stephen/connor, fanfic

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