Primeval fic: From Bottom to Top
Title: From Bottom to Top
Author: SCWLC
Disclaimer: I don't own it and I'm making no money from this.
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Connor thinks he knows what Stephen wants. He's wrong about that. Pre-existing relationship.
AN: There should maybe be a warning on this, but I actually have almost no functional terminology. Some rimming, I think. Also, I've noticed that it's 99% Connor taking it up the arse out there. So, just to be different, and you may have noticed in the last one I did of C/S, I'm letting Connor top. Different is good, right? Also, I know, no awards for this title.
***********************
It was a conversation Connor had never expected to have.
"So, how do you and Stephen decide who gets to fuck who?" Abby asked. plopping down next to him in the canteen.
Connor blinked at her, trying to understand the question, the motivation behind the question and mostly just why the hell it was that Abby would be interested in his sex life.
"You know," Jenny said from behind them, suddenly joining the pair, "I've wondered that myself. It must complicate bedroom politics a little."
"What?" Connor asked. He really didn't have anything to say to that.
Sounding a little put-upon, as though he was being deliberately dense, Abby said, "Well, when two blokes have sex, one of you gets it up the arse, right?"
"I . . . er . . . yes?" Connor said, a little wary of putting it quite like that, and wondering where Abby was going with this.
"Well," she said, as though this was all completely obvious and excellent lunchtime conversation, "Obviously you take turns who does who, right? I mean, being fair and all. So, how do you decide?"
Somehow, the filter on his brain that would normally have let him pause and try to find something else to say, or something better, or just . . . not that, went on the fritz and he said, "We don't take turns. I'm just . . . erm . . . Stephen tops. That's pretty much it. Nothing to talk about."
Jenny, on his other side said, sounding oddly suspicious, "Is that due to preference, Connor? Because while you're not an aggressive person, you've also never struck me as submissive either."
"No, I mean . . . I'm not . . . it's fine, and Stephen's more . . ." he trailed off, because whatever he said would come out wrong. Sure, sometimes he wanted to be the one with his dick inside something tight and slick and hot, sometimes he wanted to get at Stephen's almost despicably gorgeous, tight arse. But Stephen was so . . . there was so much confidence, maybe even dominance, radiating from him, and Connor couldn't imagine trying to ask that. Anyhow, he'd never had a boyfriend (or girlfriend) like Stephen, someone as kind and generous and handsome and all that, and he knew that if he asked it would come out wrong too. He didn't want to do anything to put it in jeopardy.
Jenny and Abby exchanged glances. "So . . . you never top?" Abby asked.
Hoping that she'd go away if he answered the question, because this was very uncomfortable, and as much as Abby was his best friend, he didn't want to talk about it at all. "No."
She and Jenny exchanged looks, very speaking looks, and Connor prayed for an interruption. He sent a thank-you upwards when the ADD went off and they had to head out to take care of a small herd of lost baby diplodocuses.
************************
Stephen was just about ready to head back to the flat he now half-shared with Connor, who officially lived with Abby, but that now only part time. He turned to leave, only to be confronted by Abby and Jenny, both of whom had the look of women on a mission, possibly some sort of intervention. "Can I help you with something?" he asked.
"It's about Connor," Jenny said. "And you, and . . ." she seemed to be looking for something in particular.
Abby pursed her lips a moment, then cut in. "When I was asking Connor today at lunch how you two negotiate who tops, he said you always do."
"Why," Stephen asked, amazed at the effrontery, "Would you be asking Connor that?"
"Because it's fun," Abby said. "That's not important. He didn't sound too happy about it."
That wrenched his attention sharply away from wondering where Abby got the sheer gall to gossip with Connor about that, and over to sudden concern. "What do you mean?" Was Connor unhappy in their relationship? It hadn't been all that long, but Stephen after years of dealing with dominating partners like Helen, who had to be in control of everything, to those who were just sort of off-and-on friends to scratch an itch with, Connor approached it all like they were equals, not demanding things, but always willing to negotiate.
The sex was the one thing they hadn't, but the way that Connor had always just gone and presented himself to Stephen, he'd just assumed that was what Connor liked. He had no real preferences himself either way, so if Connor preferred it . . .
"He sounded rather like . . ." Jenny was watching him carefully. "It sounded a bit like he was afraid to ask."
The bottom of his stomach dropped away. Afraid to ask? What did that mean?
Abby's voice distracted him from the train of thought. "So, we're talking to you," she told him. "Because you make Connor really happy, but if that's just a front or a lie or you're hurting-"
"I promise you, Abby," Stephen said hastily. "I'm not doing anything to him. If he's unhappy, that's news to me." In spite of himself, the hurt that Connor might be unhappy with him and not come to him about it crept into his voice. "I thought he was happy."
"Just talk to him," Jenny said.
"And if he come to me looking all teary-eyed and it's your fault, I'll-"
"I know, I know, Abby," Stephen said, "Death and mayhem and all things orange." He wasn't even aware he'd been quoting Connor's quotation from some Harry Potter fanfiction as he left a confused Abby and Jenny behind him.
"All things orange?" came Abby's voice, trailing after him.
****************************
Connor was sitting on the couch in Stephen's flat, absently watching some police procedural or other while he waited. Stephen had given him a key just the other day, so he'd decided to use it, and had texted Stephen to let him know. The older man came in the door, and Connor happily bolted to his feet, wanting nothing more than to forget all about that horrible conversation with Abby and Jenny that day by letting Stephen make him forget all about it.
Within moments the welcome home kiss had become heated and Connor had pulled his mouth away from Stephen's to latch onto his pulse. The groan that came from his boyfriend's throat sent a thrill through Connor, who loved that someone like Stephen, handsome and confident, who could have anyone he wanted but chose Connor, would react to what he did like that.
They stumbled to the bed, Connor eagerly wrapping a hand around Stephen's erection where it was trapped inside his trousers and making the normally graceful man stumble as he became distracted and his hips bucked towards Connor. "You'll pay for that," Stephen told him when he snickered at the misstep.
A moment later they were on the bed, and Connor was frozen, staring transfixed by Stephen pulling his zip open with his teeth, hot breath teasing him as the restraining fabric was pulled off of his cock. "Oh, God," he whimpered. If Stephen kept up that sort of thing he'd come without being touched at all.
Then a hot mouth was on him through his boxers, and Connor couldn't help but writhe and let words spill out of his mouth that didn't make the slightest bit of sense. "Stephen, God . . . please, so good, so . . . pleasepleaseplease . . . Stephen, I'm gonna . . . I . . . nnngh!"
Stephen was alternating sucking on the head of his cock with feather-light licks, all through Connor's bloody pants. He hadn't even got them off yet. He suddenly couldn't stand it anymore, and shoved Stephen off, pouncing on him and yanking at the other man's t-shirt and trousers to get at the skin underneath. Stephen was laughing as he cooperated, something that stopped dead as Connor dove down, taking as much of Stephen's cock into his mouth as he could, then sucking hard.
The bed shifted a little suddenly as Stephen fell back from partly sitting up and arched his hips sharply up into Connor's mouth. "Connor!" he shouted, his hands flying for a moment to the headboard, then moving back down again to twine into Connor's hair. "Hell," he moaned. "How the hell are you so good at --" Except the last word changed into a throaty moan that seemed to make Connor's erection suddenly ache with the need for release.
Connor paused a moment, in everything but mouthing Stephen's dick, anyhow, looking at the side table where Stephen kept the lube. Wondering a moment how Stephen would react if Connor took it and slipped a finger into that so-appealing arse in front of him.
But this was Stephen. He'd never do that. Never be the one on the bottom. It wasn't . . . Stepheny. Damn Abby for putting the thought in his head!
Because Stephen noticed, had pulled Connor off him and asked, "Everything okay?"
"Yeah, fine," Connor said hastily, trying to get back the mood he'd had until Abby's suggestion had crossed his mind. He scrambled to the table, grabbing the lube and handing it to Stephen. "I was just thinking maybe we could get on with it a bit, yeah?" Connor essayed a careless grin and kissed him.
"I was thinking maybe you could do me, for a change," Stephen said, and despite everything Connor had told himself, despite the fact that he could see Stephen was watching too carefully, the thought of it made his cock throb and twitch visibly.
***************************
The look on Connor's face said it all. Abby and Jenny were right about one thing. Connor was holding back and Stephen, regretfully because this was going to kill the mood, had to figure this out. "Connor, Abby and Jenny talked to me today," he started.
Connor's face went from a little longing and resigned to nervous, and with some undertone that made Stephen's heart clench. "Did they? Abby was harassing me about it at lunch, because apparently I'm her best girlfriend to talk about cute boys with now."
"Is there some reason you're not-"
Connor interrupted him, blurting out, "It doesn't matter, Stephen. I mean, it's not like you'd want to, right? I'm not going to ask for that, it's just not important enough."
"What do you mean?" he asked. This had the feeling of a conversation they'd had before. A conversation he had a sinking feeling they might have several times.
The sinking feeling was confirmed by Connor's next words. "I didn't think I'd ever get anyone like you, Stephen. You're just . . . I'm just silly, geeky Connor Temple, and that you want me, it's more than enough-"
"Connor," Stephen said, sharply, "I'm hoping I don't have to say this too many more times, but you're brilliant and handsome and all those things you keep thinking you're not. If you want something, if you want to be on top, you can bring it up. I'm not going to break up with you just because you want to take turns."
"But," Connor said, looking a little confused, "I thought . . . I mean, you didn't seem the type to like-"
"You know what I like most about being in a relationship with you, Connor?" he asked.
Wryly, his boyfriend said, "Being able to have sex all the time, unlike with Allison, who doesn't even really live on the same continent?"
"And that you expect this to be an equal partnership," Stephen told him with a small sigh. "Helen had to be in control all the time, and so did Allison. Actually, so have most of my partners. You're the first one who seems to want this on equal terms." Then he shot Connor a significant look. "Except in bed. I'd thought you preferred bottoming, Connor. I thought that was why you never took the initiative."
There was a pause, then Connor asked, rather hesitantly, "Have you ever, y'know, been on the bottom?"
"Like I said, Helen did like to be in control, but yes, with some of my other partners."
Connor's eyes narrowed a moment, then he suddenly pounced on Stephen, yanking the lube from his loose grasp. Stephen hadn't expected this, but was nothing loathe to see what Connor had planned. He was quite aware of just how dextrous his lover could be, had watched long fingers dancing over keyboards, building weird science projects for the ARC and performing card tricks to entertain small children temporarily lost on anomaly sites.
Somehow, Connor managed one-handed, while the other was stroking Stephen's cock in a smooth, not-quite-hard-enough and not-quite-fast-enough motion, to open the tube and slick up his fingers. Unlike Helen, who'd pretty much started right in on prepping him for that dildo she'd bought, and others he'd been with who'd been the same, Connor took his time, gently circling around and around the hole, almost teasing as much with that as he was teasing with his handjob.
When he leaned down, Stephen expected that brilliantly talented mouth to slide back down his erection.
Connor bypassed it entirely, his tongue circling around the area he'd just been teasing at with a fingertip. "Connor?" he asked, feeling an entirely too-good interplay of finger and tongue, slipping around and around, then lightly skating over the area between the base of his cock and where the lube was getting a good coverage of his arsehole, but not much else.
Until suddenly the tongue and finger were alternating at dipping into him, making him squirm in anticipation. Because Connor was really good at this, and Stephen was regretting not having brought it up sooner. When the finger suddenly slipped all the way in, he couldn't stop himself from pressing down onto it, feeling Connor twist the finger sharply, and then suddenly hit something inside him that felt incredible.
He shouted his hips suddenly bucking and twisting in response, seeking more. "Oh my God. What the hell was . . ." he trailed off, moaning as Connor grinned up at him from where he'd begun lapping at Stephen's cock again.
"You mean none of them ever," poke, moan, thrust, "played," poke, moan, thrust, "with," poke, moan, thrust, "your prostate?" Connor inquired, introducing a second finger. "I mean, I've had a lot fewer partners than you and I didn't have a hard time finding out about that. There's lots of good sources to read, you know."
"You figured this out from reading?' gasped Stephen around the whimpers he was trying not to let out. Grunting, moaning, groaning, sure. He was not going to whimper or whine. He had some pride. He bit his lip to suck that in when those two fingers started to scissor, stretching him slowly, far more slowly than anyone else ever had.
"Well, that and my last boyfriend, Dante. He let me practice on him."
A third finger, a twisting motion, a hand lightly teasing at his cock, tongue lapping on his balls and Stephen knew two things. First, this was bloody brilliant, and two, he was about go stark raving loony. "I should thank h -" he never finished because of another jab at his prostate and a pleading whimper escaped from his lips. "Oh, God, Connor fuck me."
"Just a little longer," Connor told him soothingly.
He didn't want to be soothed, this had taken three bloody times longer than anyone else ever had and he wanted to get on with it. His snarl was interrupted by Connor sucking hard on the head of his weeping cock and making his eyes roll back in his head. "Connor!"
The fingers withdrew. He immediately started to get to his knees, desperate for release and to get on with it. "Lie down," Connor told him, shoving him onto his back with a pillow under his backside. Before he could even ask, Connor's lubed and condom-covered cock slid so-easily into him. Stephen felt his eyes go wide. It had never been that easy before. There was the slightest hint of burn, but this was . . . fuck it. He stopped himself from thinking about it, instead slamming his hips forward onto Connor's erection, hearing Connor groan.
And then he truly understood the point of this position with its pillow, because from here he and Connor could kiss, and he frantically clung to Connor, enthusiastically bucking into each thrust. Then Connor was reaching between them, gripping Stephen's cock in his still-slick hand, and Stephen ceased to be aware of anything that wasn't what Connor was doing to him.
When he came, it was brilliant. It was like the whole world whited out around him.
**********************
Connor saw Stephen come, grinning to himself as the normally piercing blue eyes were glazed over with pleasure and the body that was most often ready for action of some kind went slack in a kind of post-orgasmic bliss. The knowledge that he'd done it sent Connor flying over the edge right after, collapsing on top of Stephen to wait until he caught his breath.
It wasn't until he'd withdrawn, taking off the condom to throw in the bin that Stephen came out of his little haze. "Connor?"
"Yeah?" he asked apprehensively. Had Stephen changed his mind? Did he want to go back to before? If he did, Connor figured it would be okay with him. This whole little incident just meant he could trust that Stephen really wanted to make him happy when they shagged. He'd just ask for special events. His birthday and such. Stephen was using a few tissues from the box beside his bed to do a quick clean-up.
"If you don't do that to me again some time, I'll have to break up with you," Stephen said. "That was . . . incredible."
"So, basically," Connor asked, raising an eyebrow at him, "You're threatening me if I don't have sex with you. Huh."
"Basically," Stephen agreed. Then he dragged Connor down and sort-of pinned him to the bed. "Now, we're going to sleep, because you've absolutely shagged me out."
"I get no say in this, do I?" Connor asked, amused. Stephen, when he chose, got oddly bossy in an almost petulant way.
"No," Stephen told him.
One last kiss and they fell asleep together.
All that didn't stop Stephen from thanking Abby and Jenny for their interference, then leaving Connor to Abby and Jenny's tender gossiping mercies the next day. He was sort of curious what angry sex with Connor was like.
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