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My Soul To Sing by alyse [ - ]
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Category: Primeval > Slash and Femslash > Slash
Characters: Connor Temple, Stephen Hart
Rating: NC-17
Genres: Established Relationship, PWP - Plot, What Plot?, Romance
Warnings: None

Summary: For Connor, Stephen's a litany of firsts.

Pairing: Connor/Stephen



Story Notes:
Temaris thinks that now I've written Connor/Stephen porn, the devil don't want me no more. But she beta'd it for me anyway.

Title from an Emily Dickinson poem and written for MMoM.


Connor's never done this before, but that's not exactly a first when it comes to Stephen. That's kind of weird when he thinks about it, because Stephen's a litany of firsts. He's the first time Connor kisses a guy. The first time a guy kisses back. First kiss. First touch. First time Connor sees someone naked, in the flesh, in a way that means, 'Yay! Sex!'

In fact, Stephen was his first time ever. And there are times when Connor thinks that Stephen will be not just his first but also his last and that… that's even scarier than this is.

He hasn't said it yet though, hasn't quite reached the first time for the words 'love' and 'you'. Knowing his propensity for bumbling and stutter, there'll probably be a 'sorry' in there with them. And with something that scary on the horizon, this first shouldn't be a big deal, except for the part where it is.

Stephen's eyes are warm and patient. That helps. A lot. Because it's Stephen, and from the first Connor would pretty much have done whatever Stephen wanted.

Knowing that kind of makes him squirm a little. Knowing that it's Stephen has him squirming a lot, but mostly in a good way.

"Is this what you want?" Connor asks, his voice cracking slightly. He swallows it down, chin rising stubbornly and not missing the way that the corner of Stephen's mouth crinkles in a tiny smile even while his eyes stay calm. "I mean… is this…?"

Stephen's gaze drops towards Connor's hand. Towards where Connor's hand is stroking slowly along the length of his cock and Connor can feel the blood rushing to his face, setting it aflame. At least some of it - the rest just rushes to his dick, which twitches in his grip.

Stephen's mouth crinkles at that, too, a dimple forming in his cheek.

"Yes, Connor." His voice is low, soft but it makes Connor even harder, a shudder running through him. His face is still burning, but this is Stephen and he's pretty much gone where Stephen is concerned. No willpower whatsoever.

He's not sure that's a bad thing.

Stephen leans back, the move stretching the fabric of his boxers over his erection, and Connor's eyes fix on it, a Pavlovian response he's not got a chance in hell of fighting. His grip tightens on his dick, more firmly now, stroking all along the length. Stephen's watching him, his face serious and his eyes hungry and, in spite of Connor's embarrassment, this might be the hottest thing ever. Except for the time with Stephen and his tongue and… yeah, in retrospect that might have been the most embarrassing thing ever because Connor would never, in a million years, have expected anyone to want to stick their tongue up there. Or that it would feel so good. He wonders how the hell he gets Stephen to do that thing again.

Firsts are all well and good, but sometimes you want seconds.

"You okay with this?" Stephen's voice is as warm as his gaze and Connor licks his lips again, wondering whether, 'Yes but please, the tongue thing again?' would be a little too needy. "Connor?"

"Yeah," he blurts out. "Is it…?"

Stephen looks at him for a long moment, his gaze searching, and then he leans closer, sleek muscles moving under his smooth skin, and murmurs, "It's perfect, Connor. You're perfect, okay?"

He's a geek, and he's not as fit as Stephen and he's kind of clumsy on occasion but none of that seems to matter when Stephen is so close that he can feel the warmth rising from the other man's body, or when Stephen's eyes are fixed on Connor's cock, watching Connor's fingers working along the length of it.

"Show me," Stephen murmurs, his voice low, throaty. Needy. "Show me what you like, Connor. Show me what makes you come."

"You." The word comes out as a gasp and he wants to lean in, rest his head on Stephen's shoulder and hide his burning face. His dick feels thick in his hand, hard and alien, nothing like when he wanks when he's on his own. It's like Stephen being there makes it both less real and more real at the same time.

Stephen's fingers wrap around nape of his neck, hard and demanding, pulling him closer, and then Stephen's mouth is on his. His tongue is just as demanding and he doesn't let Connor hide, pushing past all of his defences like they don't exist - Connor's embarrassment, his uncertainty, that vague feeling that Stephen can't really want him, not Connor. Not a geeky little thing like him.

All of that goes, melts away in the warmth of Stephen's mouth. All that's left is the heat of Stephen's body and the fire it lights in his.

He's growing light-headed by the time Stephen pulls back again, resting his forehead against Connor's and staring down to where Connor's cock is resting, dark and heavy in his hand.

"Show me," he demands again and Connor is helpless to resist. The movements of his hand lack finesse, are jerky and rough. He can't do finesse, not with Stephen's breath hot against his face and the scent of him filling Connor's nostrils.

Connor closes his eyes, imagining that it's Stephen's hand stroking him like this, not his own. It's not a difficult thing to imagine - he remembers that first time, Stephen's tongue in his mouth and Stephen's hand down his pants. He remembers Stephen roughly stroking to him to orgasm even as Stephen's voice sounded in his ear, harsh with fear rather than passion, telling him not to be so fucking stupid next time; that Stephen couldn't - wouldn't - lose him.

Stephen's fingers are still resting on the nape of his neck, calluses stroking against the sensitive skin there and sending shudders through Connor. His skin feels two sizes too small, tight and tingling, and there's a heavy weight, low in his gut, tightening in his balls. He's not going to last much longer, not with Stephen's fingers now digging into his skin, a constant low rumble of 'Yeah' and 'That's it' and 'Tell me' rolling over him.

"Tell me what you're thinking about."

"You," he says, blood rising to his face again. "I'm thinking of you."

"Tell me," Stephen says again, fingers still there on Connor's neck, anchoring him and making this easier.

"The first time," Connor stutters, squeezing his eyes closed and picturing it. It's easier to picture Stephen's face then than it is to look him in the face now. "When you…"

"When I made you come."

"Yeah." Connor bites his lip. "In my boxers."

The low rumble of Stephen's laughter rolls over him, warming him and letting the blush recede a little. "You were so hot, I couldn't help myself," Stephen says, the same laughter in his voice. There are other things in there too, things that make this - Stephen watching him, stripping him bare and leaving him vulnerable - all right. More than all right.

He opens his eyes, needing to see Stephen as he comes. Needing to watch Stephen watching him as he comes but Stephen's not looking at his dick anymore. Stephen's looking at him. Looking at Connor like he's everything, and it's the same things shining in Stephen's eyes now as there was then, only without the fear, the panic.

There's just the warmth left, like Connor's enough to put that light in Stephen's eye.

All it takes is Stephen's murmured, "Beautiful," and Stephen's thumb stroking over his cheekbone to tip Connor over the edge. Stephen's eyes never leave his as he comes, white ribbons landing on his stomach and on Stephen's, dampening Stephen's boxers and landing on the outline of his cock.

It's hot, in a weird way, and Connor's cock gives a last twitch in his hand as his head falls forward into the curve of Stephen's neck. It gives him a good view as Stephen shoves his hand down his own boxers, pulling his dick out unceremoniously. He kind of loves Stephen's dick - it's long, lean and pretty, a bit like Stephen himself. As he watches Stephen stroke it, he starts to understand why Stephen wanted to watch him. It is hot, watching Stephen jerk himself off and knowing that it's Connor that's turning Stephen on. It's even better when Stephen cries out, "Connor," as he comes, splashing the pair of them with his come, mingling with Connor's. Sort of sticky though, even though Connor should be used to it by now.

It's not the first time that he's had Stephen's come on his skin. It won't be the last.

The End