Fandom: Primeval
Characters: Abby/Becker/Connor (Primarily Becker/Connor and Abby/Becker scenes)
Story: Shell Shocked
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Set after 5x01, with spoilers for that, and foreshadowing for future eps. A bit longish.
Author's Note: Angst. Then porn. Then more angst. Then more porn. Then even more angst. I would dearly love to write some fluff for these three right now, but canon's not being very nice about that, dammit.
Summary: The storm is building. Becker knows he has to be their shelter, but can he do it?
Shell Shocked
“I’m sorry,” Becker had told Abby, as he tucked her protectively under his arm. He had done his soldier’s duty in shielding her from the explosion’s shrapnel. Yet in his duty as a friend and lover, he had failed, as flipping that switch against her pleas had wounded her far more deeply.
Watching her now, as she silently sat at the kitchen table across the room, nursing her third cup of tea, he wondered how he could explain it to her. How could he explain that his mental state under fire didn’t allow for more than he had given? How could he explain that the soldier's instinct burned into him was a matter of following orders for the greater good, and not giving in to one’s own anguish? It was a testament to how strong his feelings were that he had hesitated, delayed, apologized. It was a violation of his training to have gravitated toward her during the mission, seeking comfort and safety as much as he was giving it. There was no room in battle for sentimentality. You identified your objective, and you met it. Full stop. No dithering, no arguing. Even when the right thing to do made your heart freeze up and shatter into a thousand pieces. Even when all you wanted to do was sink to your knees and beg whatever deities might be listening to deliver you from this grief.
It had all turned out right. And yet it was also all wrong, now. She’d barely spoken to him when Connor was being seen to at the site, and had wandered off with Matt once they were back at the ARC. Now, at home, they nested at opposite ends of the room as the evening wore on, and they still hadn’t talked about it.
To make matters even worse, Connor was gone again. After getting properly stitched up at the ARC’s infirmary, he’d spent barely an hour getting showered and changed in the locker room before holing up back in his lab with his strange new assistant.
But at least, Becker thought with a sad smile, they had had that hour.
***
“Ow!” Connor shrieked a little as Allen the medic began cleaning the gash on his leg. Abby, holding tight to his hand, petted him soothingly, whispering words of comfort in his ear. She’d hardly left his side since they’d got him back out of the ruined building.
Becker, standing near them both, felt a sympathy pain at Connor’s cry—a sharp shock through the mostly-healed therocephalian bite on his own leg. He reached a hand up to pet Connor’s damp, matted hair. “I’m so sorry, lov—mate.” His heart skipped a beat as he corrected himself, and he jerked back the hand before it reached Connor’s head.
Abby looked up at him in shock, her eyes wide. He glanced around, making sure no one else had heard his near slip-up. Minker, he noticed with relief, was the only one in earshot aside from Allen. Both, along with two others, were the only members of his team who knew about their captain’s unusual romantic arrangement. Allen, along with Bailie and Hobbes, was intimately familiar, having been at the bunker last week helping to deliver Connor’s “birthday gift.” And Minker he’d known for years—even had a fling with him at Sandhurst before the lad had run off and got married.
Yet these were the only ones he trusted with this delicate information. These few, loyal men wouldn’t breathe a word of their captain's unusual relationship to anyone else. Everyone else at the ARC was entirely unaware, save, of course, for canny Jess. Bless her, she’d made a point of covering their trail, somehow instinctively understanding the discretion required under the circumstances. For this, she’d been quite well-stocked with chocolate—no orange—these days.
Allen finished cleaning away the blood and debris from Connor’s wound, and was giving it a close look. “Good thing is that it doesn’t look like there was any venom involved. You just got a nasty bite from the creature’s mandible.” Allen patted Connor’s leg reassuringly. “I’ll get this packed up for now, and when we get back to the ARC, I’ll get you stitched up proper.”
“Good—AH!” Connor shrieked again with the last swipe of the antiseptic solution, and squeezed Abby’s hand.
Becker winced. Had those noises been uttered in pain of a voluntary sort, he’d undoubtedly have sprung a fantastic erection by now. As it was, however, his beloved was in a great deal of pain of the not-fun variety, and he ached a little, knowing he couldn’t give Connor the same kind of comfort and attention as Abby did so freely. His hovering near Abby while Connor was trapped had caused Matt to stare a little more than usual already—best not fuel that fire any more.
Watching and worrying as Connor was seen to, Becker wondered again why they kept it secret. It wasn’t as if fraternization was necessarily frowned upon, what with Connor and Abby’s relationship being quite official. It wasn’t the he-and-Connor thing, either. Even aside from his trusted team members, most of the younger ARC staff weren’t generally homophobic. Some were openly gay themselves.
But a lab tech with a pic of her girlfriend on her desk wasn’t quite the same thing as their more-complicated arrangement. He supposed most folks wouldn’t be unfamiliar with the idea of three in a bed, of course, but the serious relationship they had? The idea of him as an interloper in the celebrity couple unit of Connor and Abby? Well, that was just a bit more than the average person might quite understand, he figured, and he wasn’t up for attempting to explain.
More than that, however, Becker just knew instinctively that this was something they should keep quiet. Especially now that Connor was so tightly bound up with Philip, he sensed that giving the man one more bit of personal information to use to further ensnare his protege might not be a good idea.
So as Connor again cried out, Becker bit his tongue, giving only the manliest of pats on Connor’s back, and silently pleading with his eyes for his lover to understand the detachment.
Connor, fortunately, seemed to understand, and said as much on the ride back to the ARC—which was, thankfully, just the three of them. Despite his pain and exhaustion, he was animated and chatty, seeming for at least a moment like the lad they loved, and not the one who was increasingly spending nearly every waking moment either with Philip or working on one of the man’s projects. It was nice, Becker thought, and seeing Connor smile like that made him fall in love all over again.
Abby, however, was another story. The moment he’d flipped that detonator switch, he’d felt something break inside her. Soothed somewhat by Connor’s safety, and clinging to him in the back seat as if he were a prized cuddly toy, she still bristled whenever Becker caught her eye.
He still felt like there was so much about her he didn’t know, and he was still unsure of her enough to not be certain she’d forgive him. His chest tightened at that thought, but regardless, she and Connor were close again, and that was enough for now.
***
“Hey,” Connor poked his head into the armoury, where Becker was cleaning and packing away the guns—real guns!—they’d used on the mission.
“Hey!” Becker brightened. “I was beginning to think you’d run off.”
“No—not… Well, sort of. I’m kind of. I need to go back. I have this… April is…” He huffed, frustrated at his inability to explain. “Allen just got me properly stitched up and full of good drugs, and I was about to head off to the locker room for a shower and a change. But I have to go back to my lab after that.” He did look disappointed, at least, Becker noted, hoping maybe some progress had been made in getting him to think twice about the hours he was putting in for Burton.
“I see,” Becker said, non-commitally.
“Where’s Abby?”
Good question, Becker thought. “You know… I think I saw her head off with Matt somewhere. But I don’t know for sure. I could go find her while you’re tidying up, if you’d like.”
Connor shook his head. “No, it’s OK. I’ll catch up with her later.” He limped into the room, still wincing. “Honestly, I wanted to talk to you, really.”
“Me? Why?”
“I…” He heaved a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I’ve barely seen you in the last couple of days. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry for not being there for you, too. You’ve… You were right there when I needed you today, and I feel rotten for not doing the same for you.”
Becker glanced up at the room’s CCTV camera. Hoping that Jess didn’t actually have the feed on full-screen, he took a chance, strolling over to Connor and taking his hand. “Thank you.” He squeezed warmly. “Honestly, I know your intentions are good. And I know it must be hard trying to be so many places at once.”
Connor sighed in relief. “It is. It so is. I wish Abby understood this more. But she’s got this thing about Philip, and…”
Becker frowned. “Hey, she’s not the only one, you know. Remember that I told you to be careful with him, yeah?”
Connor’s mouth tightened. “I know. I am. Really. I don’t think either of you understand him that well, though.”
“Maybe not.” He tried to sound supportive. “But I don’t want to talk about Philip, hey? I’m just glad you’re with me right now. I’ve missed you.”
Connor relaxed. “I’ve missed you, too. Honestly. I know it hasn’t really been long—I’m still sore from my birthday, actually—but…” he crept a little closer, dropping his voice. “I feel like it’s been ages since you and I…”
“Got busy?” Becker grinned.
Connor half-smiled. “Made love.”
An involuntary shudder went up Becker’s back and he flushed deeply. Ignoring the camera, he bridged the remaining distance between them and caught Connor up in his arms. After several moments of the kiss he’d been dying to give Connor all day, he finally stepped back. “We will soon, yeah?” He said gently, petting Connor’s cheek.
Connor’s eyes fluttered and he shivered, shifting his hips a little to accommodate the sudden swelling at his crotch. “Yeah.”
“Hey, cap’n, do you know where that…” A voice from the doorway caught Becker's attention, and he jerked away in panic. “Oh! Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Minker, thank goodness. Becker’s alert mode switched off again. “A’ight, Minker. No harm. What did you need?”
“Ah, nothing. I see it over there. The Mossberg.” He nodded toward the case in the corner.
“Yeah. Took that one back with me. Missed my old one too much not to.”
Minker smirked. “You and your toys.” He glanced significantly at Connor.
Becker felt just a tiny bit of annoyance at that, but let it slide, only laying a protective hand on Connor’s shoulder. Then he got an idea. “Hey, Minker, you have anything going on right now?”
“Now that I’ve found the Mossberg, no. Something in mind?”
“Well, Connor here was about to head to the showers. And seeing as he’s had a rough day, would be nice if he weren’t interrupted. Can you see to that?”
Minker smirked again--damn him--but he nodded. “Of course, cap’n. Will steer everyone clear of that corridor.” He dipped his head to Connor. “Well done today, by the way, Temple. You’re quite the brave young man.”
Connor brightened at the praise. “Thanks very much!”
True to Minker’s words, the locker room was utterly deserted by the time they arrived. After Becker gently helped Connor out of his filthy, torn clothes, and ditched his own kit, they were finally properly together, embracing as the warm water swept away the day’s dirt, sweat and blood.
“It seems like a lifetime ago,” Connor murmured, leaning back into Becker’s chest and hugging the arms that enfolded him.
“Hm?”
“Your flat. That first morning in the shower.” Connor looked over his shoulder, smiling languidly.
Becker flushed as the memories came flooding back: Connor’s near-innocence, his eagerness, his surprise and delight at Becker’s advances. In the relatively short time that he and Abby had been back, the trio had spent virtually every spare moment naked and entangled, doing everything they could imagine. It was a whirlwind of bliss, and he was deliriously happy with all of it. Yet, remembering that first time with Connor made everything else come sharply into focus.
“It does seem a lifetime, yeah,” Becker said thoughtfully.
Connor’s voice went soft. “Are we different people, now?”
Becker hummed quietly, thinking and nuzzling Connor's ear. “Maybe. But it’s not a bad thing. I don’t think in my case, at least.”
“Yeah?”
“When I took you home then, I was lying to myself. I pretended that I just wanted to be with you for a night. Help you feel better about Abby. Have some fun.”
“We did, didn’t we?” Connor brought one of Becker's hands to his mouth and kissed the palm, echoing the long-ago touch of Becker's that had sparked the first moment between them.
Becker smiled. “Of course. But there was more to it than that for me. I just didn’t know it at the time.” He caressed Connor’s back and shoulders. “It took losing you two to really break down that wall for me. I tried to go back to how I was before, but it never happened. I can still be, you know, professional and such when I need to be, but I’m finally letting myself feel something now. I never really did that before. And I have you two to thank for that.”
“Well, you’re welcome?” Connor grinned. “But no, I get it. Abby and I… It took us months to get over ourselves, even when we were the only two humans in existence. And of course, it was talking about you that finally did it.”
“None of us are really good at this, are we?” Becker smiled sheepishly.
“The spitting-it-out thing? Yeah. No.” Connor laughed a little. “I’m too spacy, you’re too stoic and Abby’s too…” he shrugged, not finding the word. “Armoured. Something like that.”
“Yeah.” Becker nodded in understanding. His stomach clenched a little, still worried about how distant she’d been. “I think she still has a lot of walls up. I feel like I barely know her sometimes. Do you s’pose she’ll ever tell me about her past?”
“I dunno. She’s only told me a little, actually. I know she has some pretty big demons there, but I also know better than pushing her. It’d just make things worse.”
“It would. I just hope she trusts me enough someday. Though after today, I’m not sure that’s going to happen anytime soon.”
Connor frowned. “How so?”
“Well, the whole blowing you up thing.”
Connor huffed quietly. “Damn. It was the right thing to do, though. Matt knew what he was doing. I trusted him.”
“I did too, mostly. But she didn’t. She trusted me to make the right decision. And she kept telling me not to do it. It was only because of Lester’s order that I actually flipped that switch, and I think she’s really upset with me for not ignoring him.”
“Well, I seem to recall telling you to do it, too.” Connor set his jaw. “So if she doesn’t get over it, let me talk to her. I’ve seen her like this before. It usually takes a combination of common sense and some reassurance that she’ll be looked after. I think she’ll take that from you, but if not, I know she’ll take it from me.”
Becker frowned, but tried to take some solace in that. “OK. I hope you’re right.” He wasn’t actually sure Connor could talk Abby down, if her mind was set, but it was, really, the only hope.
“It’ll be fine, Becks. I promise. We’ll all be fine.” Connor reached behind him and gently stroked a hand over Becker’s hip.
“OK.” He relaxed, the touch soothing him somewhat. The caress also reminded him of how close they were, and how good it felt to be skin-to-skin with Connor, whom he’d barely seen in the last few days. “So,” he said teasingly. “Up for a little walk down memory lane?” He slipped a soapy hand between them and traced down the cleft of Connor’s arse.
Connor gasped and smiled. “Ah, yeah. I think ‘up’ is most definitely the right word.” He drew a deep, shuddering breath and tilted his hips. Becker’s fingers slipped deeper, and traced soapy circles around Connor's hole, probing and relaxing the twitching muscles. Connor purred and backed in to the touch, murmuring encouragement as Becker's fingers moved inside him. But after a few moments, Connor winced again, favouring his leg. “Not sure I can stand much longer, dammit,” he said sadly.
Becker thought for a moment. “S’OK. You don’t have to.”
“Hey?”
“C’mere.” Gently turning Connor around, he manoeuvred until Connor’s back was against the wall of the shower. Then, getting a good grip on Connor’s waist, he lifted him up, moving forward to support Connor’s weight on his hips.
“Whoa!” Connor laughed a little in surprise, instinctively grasping Becker’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around Becker’s waist. “Sure you can hold me?”
“Of course.” Becker pressed against him. Connor’s slender frame was actually quite light in his arms, especially as he was braced against the wall. He shifted a little, adjusting his grip to take some pressure off of Connor’s injured leg.
And then he gently eased Connor down.
“Oh… Oh god…” Connor groaned, clinging to Becker’s neck and trembling as he was filled up, gravity helping Becker bury himself nicely deep.
It always felt so good, that first slip inside him. Every bit as tight and warm as the first time, things were nonetheless a little different, now. Connor’s body took him more readily, for one, conditioned as it was to respond to Becker’s anatomy. He was also much more sure of himself than he’d been that first day, eagerly tilting his hips just so, and moving in an instinctive way with Becker’s rhythm.
So in sync were they now that it was only a short time before both were groaning roughly, mouths mashed together as their mutual pace quickened. Connor was actually aroused enough that only the barest bit of friction against Becker set him off, and soon, he was squirming and mewling as his cock spurted across their bellies. Becker tried to hold back, knowing how little time he had left with his lover and wanting to make the moment last, but the greedy way Connor’s body clutched at him was too much, and soon, he, too was peaking, pushing as deeply as he could, tense, trembling muscles only barely keeping them both upright.
Finally, they were both weak enough that they had to disengage. Becker gingerly lifted Connor off, and set him down carefully, minding his injury.
They finished rinsing off, caressing and kissing here and there in silent communication.
The rude jangling of Connor’s mobile, sat on the bench in the other room, broke their reverie. “April’s expecting me,” Connor said quietly.
“I know.” Becker’s jaw tightened, but he tried to not let his frustration show. “I know you have things to do. I’ll miss you, though. And Abby will, too.”
Connor looked torn. “I know she will. Please give her my love, yeah?”
Becker bit his lip. “Of course. If she’ll let me.”
“She'll let you. I’ve made her angry more times than I can count, and she’s still with me, so there’s that, yeah? She’ll come round. I’m sure of it.”
***
So much for that, Becker thought wryly, as he reread the same paragraph in his book for the sixth time. Apart from a brief conversation in the car on the way home from the ARC—she responded well, at least, to the report of his short time with Connor—they’d barely spoken for hours, each nursing their own pain individually.
The words began to run together on the page, and he rubbed his eyes. When his vision cleared, he glanced up, and to his surprise, found Abby looking at him.
Taking a chance, he held her gaze. “Hey,” he said softly.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. Finally, she nodded. “Hey.”
Setting aside his book, he got up, and ambled toward her in a way he hoped seemed as unthreatening as possible. When he reached her side, he tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. She, to his great relief, accepted the touch, closing her eyes and sighing heavily.
“We don’t have to wait up for him,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“OK.” Reaching for her hand, he helped her to her feet, and led her down the corridor to the bedroom.
They undressed, and climbed into bed, Abby turning to face away from him.
After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. “Are you still angry with me?”
“It’s done, Becker.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing more to say.”
“Are you sure? Because I—“
She turned quickly, and silenced him with a hand to his mouth. “Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want to talk about that.”
“OK.” He mumbled into her hand. She took it away. “What do you want, then?”
Taking his face in her hands, she pushed an inelegant kiss on him. It took him by surprise, but he kissed back, taking comfort in the familiar feel of her soft mouth.
Finally, she pulled away. “I know it’s not your fault he’s not here.”
“But you wish he was.”
“I do.”
“So do I. I’m sorry I’m not him.”
She shook her head. “I’m not. I’m in love with you, too, remember?” She kissed him again.
A short wave of shock ran through him. They’d spoken around the topic many times, but not quite in so many words. That she was saying that now said volumes about her current raw state of mind.
“Abby…” he began, hesitantly, wondering if this was really the mood she should be in when they were close like this.
“Don’t.” She stopped him. “I need you, Becker. I’m aching right now, and I just need you. Please?” Her eyes were wide and a little wet, the clear blue visible even in the low light.
Pushing back the trepidation, he pulled her close. “Of course, baby.”
His earlier tryst with Connor had given him stamina even beyond his normal long endurance—and he needed it. For an hour, he worked her in every way, hands and mouth roaming her body from top to toe, bringing her to writhing, growling peaks time and again. He came close himself a few times—very close when she had two fingers up his arse and his cock down her throat—but he held on, knowing she needed him to give her more.
Finally, she relented, and lay back, splaying out wantonly, her messy hair a damp halo across the pillow. Her mouth hung open, and she panted heavily. “Fuck me, Becker,” she pleaded, stroking a hand across her open, wet cleft. “Fuck me hard.”
He tried to ignore the little warning bell that the desperation in her voice set off. She was there, ready, available. Not just willing, but begging for it. If she had been any other woman, he’d still have thought twice about it. But this was Abby. His Abby, he reminded himself. She had wounds that went deeper than he might ever understand, but she was also one of the toughest, most fierce people he’d ever known. He knew that, as was often the case for him, the kind of therapy she needed right now was this.
And aside from all that, given the delicious vision laid out before him, his cock was demanding that he fulfill her request.
With only a moment to position himself, he descended upon her, catching up her hips in his hands and pulling her to him as he quickly shoved himself inside. She gasped in happy shock, and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him much the same as Connor had only hours earlier. They were similar in some ways, she and Connor—slender, wiry, apt to push back and give as much as they got—but Abby was still different. Not just anatomically, but in spirit. Where Connor broke readily, submitting quickly as his instinct dictated, she fought back. He had to work to get to her, his muscles tight and burning as he heaved and bucked and drove himself into her. Tiny as she was, she seemed made from steel cable, and where nearly anyone else would break, she only bent—and not far, at that.
Finally, just as it seemed he had nothing more left for her, and was about to give in to his body’s pleas for release, he buried his face in her hair. Gasping for breath, he deliriously huffed the words that had been threatening to come from him all night.
“Abby… I love you…”
Her body went slack. For a moment, he was terrified that he’d done something horribly wrong. The panic was enough to shave the edge off of his impending orgasm, and he froze, buried inside her, wondering if he should keep going or stop or just evaporate entirely.
But then she spoke. A bare whisper, it was nonetheless clear and strong and completely sincere. “I love you, too.” As the last word faded from his ear, it was replaced by a deep gasp. Her body tightened, wound up like a spring, and then, suddenly, she crashed, clinging to him in desperation, and whimpering pathetically with each shock as it rocked her body. On the final waves, he felt her sobbing, dampening his shoulder with hot tears.
His own release, while deeply satisfying, was nearly forgotten in the chaos. All he could think of was holding her as close as possible, trying to shelter and heal her from whatever pain she still had. He blinked back his own tears, knowing she needed his strength.
It seemed ages that they lay there together, curled up around each other, his softening, wet cock still held inside her as she trembled weakly. There were no more words—they didn’t need them.
When she was finally calm again, he slipped out, and moved onto his side, shifting just enough to give her some air. She still folded up in his arms, however, and stayed there, relaxing enough that she fell asleep. Once he was certain she was out, he finally drifted off, too.
***
Connor must have found them like that. His side of the bed showed a shallow imprint of his body, and the shower was steamy when Becker toddled into the bathroom the next morning. Momentary worry about Connor’s reaction was relieved when Becker found his phone showing a voicemail.
“Looks like you two kissed and made up. Yay!" Connor's voice sounded sleepy. "Sorry I missed it. Work calls. Do me a favor and love her as much as you can right now. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much of that myself in the near future. This project I’m on… Well, I can’t tell you. Just… know that I wish I was there, yeah?”
Abby wandered in, rubbing her makeup-smudged eyes. Even after the comfort he'd tried to give her, and a good night's sleep, she still, to his dismay, looked a little shell shocked. “Connor’s at work again.”
“Yeah.” He switched off the phone.
She shrugged numbly, getting in to the shower. “S’OK,” she mumbled from behind the glass. “I still have you.”
He shivered, staring at the phone as if it might come to life and give him the backup he needed. He would, true to his duty and his own feelings, give her as much love as one person possibly could.
He just wasn’t sure he could give her enough for two.
--End--
Characters: Abby/Becker/Connor (Primarily Becker/Connor and Abby/Becker scenes)
Story: Shell Shocked
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Spoilers: Set after 5x01, with spoilers for that, and foreshadowing for future eps. A bit longish.
Author's Note: Angst. Then porn. Then more angst. Then more porn. Then even more angst. I would dearly love to write some fluff for these three right now, but canon's not being very nice about that, dammit.
Summary: The storm is building. Becker knows he has to be their shelter, but can he do it?
Shell Shocked
“I’m sorry,” Becker had told Abby, as he tucked her protectively under his arm. He had done his soldier’s duty in shielding her from the explosion’s shrapnel. Yet in his duty as a friend and lover, he had failed, as flipping that switch against her pleas had wounded her far more deeply.
Watching her now, as she silently sat at the kitchen table across the room, nursing her third cup of tea, he wondered how he could explain it to her. How could he explain that his mental state under fire didn’t allow for more than he had given? How could he explain that the soldier's instinct burned into him was a matter of following orders for the greater good, and not giving in to one’s own anguish? It was a testament to how strong his feelings were that he had hesitated, delayed, apologized. It was a violation of his training to have gravitated toward her during the mission, seeking comfort and safety as much as he was giving it. There was no room in battle for sentimentality. You identified your objective, and you met it. Full stop. No dithering, no arguing. Even when the right thing to do made your heart freeze up and shatter into a thousand pieces. Even when all you wanted to do was sink to your knees and beg whatever deities might be listening to deliver you from this grief.
It had all turned out right. And yet it was also all wrong, now. She’d barely spoken to him when Connor was being seen to at the site, and had wandered off with Matt once they were back at the ARC. Now, at home, they nested at opposite ends of the room as the evening wore on, and they still hadn’t talked about it.
To make matters even worse, Connor was gone again. After getting properly stitched up at the ARC’s infirmary, he’d spent barely an hour getting showered and changed in the locker room before holing up back in his lab with his strange new assistant.
But at least, Becker thought with a sad smile, they had had that hour.
***
“Ow!” Connor shrieked a little as Allen the medic began cleaning the gash on his leg. Abby, holding tight to his hand, petted him soothingly, whispering words of comfort in his ear. She’d hardly left his side since they’d got him back out of the ruined building.
Becker, standing near them both, felt a sympathy pain at Connor’s cry—a sharp shock through the mostly-healed therocephalian bite on his own leg. He reached a hand up to pet Connor’s damp, matted hair. “I’m so sorry, lov—mate.” His heart skipped a beat as he corrected himself, and he jerked back the hand before it reached Connor’s head.
Abby looked up at him in shock, her eyes wide. He glanced around, making sure no one else had heard his near slip-up. Minker, he noticed with relief, was the only one in earshot aside from Allen. Both, along with two others, were the only members of his team who knew about their captain’s unusual romantic arrangement. Allen, along with Bailie and Hobbes, was intimately familiar, having been at the bunker last week helping to deliver Connor’s “birthday gift.” And Minker he’d known for years—even had a fling with him at Sandhurst before the lad had run off and got married.
Yet these were the only ones he trusted with this delicate information. These few, loyal men wouldn’t breathe a word of their captain's unusual relationship to anyone else. Everyone else at the ARC was entirely unaware, save, of course, for canny Jess. Bless her, she’d made a point of covering their trail, somehow instinctively understanding the discretion required under the circumstances. For this, she’d been quite well-stocked with chocolate—no orange—these days.
Allen finished cleaning away the blood and debris from Connor’s wound, and was giving it a close look. “Good thing is that it doesn’t look like there was any venom involved. You just got a nasty bite from the creature’s mandible.” Allen patted Connor’s leg reassuringly. “I’ll get this packed up for now, and when we get back to the ARC, I’ll get you stitched up proper.”
“Good—AH!” Connor shrieked again with the last swipe of the antiseptic solution, and squeezed Abby’s hand.
Becker winced. Had those noises been uttered in pain of a voluntary sort, he’d undoubtedly have sprung a fantastic erection by now. As it was, however, his beloved was in a great deal of pain of the not-fun variety, and he ached a little, knowing he couldn’t give Connor the same kind of comfort and attention as Abby did so freely. His hovering near Abby while Connor was trapped had caused Matt to stare a little more than usual already—best not fuel that fire any more.
Watching and worrying as Connor was seen to, Becker wondered again why they kept it secret. It wasn’t as if fraternization was necessarily frowned upon, what with Connor and Abby’s relationship being quite official. It wasn’t the he-and-Connor thing, either. Even aside from his trusted team members, most of the younger ARC staff weren’t generally homophobic. Some were openly gay themselves.
But a lab tech with a pic of her girlfriend on her desk wasn’t quite the same thing as their more-complicated arrangement. He supposed most folks wouldn’t be unfamiliar with the idea of three in a bed, of course, but the serious relationship they had? The idea of him as an interloper in the celebrity couple unit of Connor and Abby? Well, that was just a bit more than the average person might quite understand, he figured, and he wasn’t up for attempting to explain.
More than that, however, Becker just knew instinctively that this was something they should keep quiet. Especially now that Connor was so tightly bound up with Philip, he sensed that giving the man one more bit of personal information to use to further ensnare his protege might not be a good idea.
So as Connor again cried out, Becker bit his tongue, giving only the manliest of pats on Connor’s back, and silently pleading with his eyes for his lover to understand the detachment.
Connor, fortunately, seemed to understand, and said as much on the ride back to the ARC—which was, thankfully, just the three of them. Despite his pain and exhaustion, he was animated and chatty, seeming for at least a moment like the lad they loved, and not the one who was increasingly spending nearly every waking moment either with Philip or working on one of the man’s projects. It was nice, Becker thought, and seeing Connor smile like that made him fall in love all over again.
Abby, however, was another story. The moment he’d flipped that detonator switch, he’d felt something break inside her. Soothed somewhat by Connor’s safety, and clinging to him in the back seat as if he were a prized cuddly toy, she still bristled whenever Becker caught her eye.
He still felt like there was so much about her he didn’t know, and he was still unsure of her enough to not be certain she’d forgive him. His chest tightened at that thought, but regardless, she and Connor were close again, and that was enough for now.
***
“Hey,” Connor poked his head into the armoury, where Becker was cleaning and packing away the guns—real guns!—they’d used on the mission.
“Hey!” Becker brightened. “I was beginning to think you’d run off.”
“No—not… Well, sort of. I’m kind of. I need to go back. I have this… April is…” He huffed, frustrated at his inability to explain. “Allen just got me properly stitched up and full of good drugs, and I was about to head off to the locker room for a shower and a change. But I have to go back to my lab after that.” He did look disappointed, at least, Becker noted, hoping maybe some progress had been made in getting him to think twice about the hours he was putting in for Burton.
“I see,” Becker said, non-commitally.
“Where’s Abby?”
Good question, Becker thought. “You know… I think I saw her head off with Matt somewhere. But I don’t know for sure. I could go find her while you’re tidying up, if you’d like.”
Connor shook his head. “No, it’s OK. I’ll catch up with her later.” He limped into the room, still wincing. “Honestly, I wanted to talk to you, really.”
“Me? Why?”
“I…” He heaved a deep breath. “I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I’ve barely seen you in the last couple of days. And that’s my fault. And I’m sorry for not being there for you, too. You’ve… You were right there when I needed you today, and I feel rotten for not doing the same for you.”
Becker glanced up at the room’s CCTV camera. Hoping that Jess didn’t actually have the feed on full-screen, he took a chance, strolling over to Connor and taking his hand. “Thank you.” He squeezed warmly. “Honestly, I know your intentions are good. And I know it must be hard trying to be so many places at once.”
Connor sighed in relief. “It is. It so is. I wish Abby understood this more. But she’s got this thing about Philip, and…”
Becker frowned. “Hey, she’s not the only one, you know. Remember that I told you to be careful with him, yeah?”
Connor’s mouth tightened. “I know. I am. Really. I don’t think either of you understand him that well, though.”
“Maybe not.” He tried to sound supportive. “But I don’t want to talk about Philip, hey? I’m just glad you’re with me right now. I’ve missed you.”
Connor relaxed. “I’ve missed you, too. Honestly. I know it hasn’t really been long—I’m still sore from my birthday, actually—but…” he crept a little closer, dropping his voice. “I feel like it’s been ages since you and I…”
“Got busy?” Becker grinned.
Connor half-smiled. “Made love.”
An involuntary shudder went up Becker’s back and he flushed deeply. Ignoring the camera, he bridged the remaining distance between them and caught Connor up in his arms. After several moments of the kiss he’d been dying to give Connor all day, he finally stepped back. “We will soon, yeah?” He said gently, petting Connor’s cheek.
Connor’s eyes fluttered and he shivered, shifting his hips a little to accommodate the sudden swelling at his crotch. “Yeah.”
“Hey, cap’n, do you know where that…” A voice from the doorway caught Becker's attention, and he jerked away in panic. “Oh! Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Minker, thank goodness. Becker’s alert mode switched off again. “A’ight, Minker. No harm. What did you need?”
“Ah, nothing. I see it over there. The Mossberg.” He nodded toward the case in the corner.
“Yeah. Took that one back with me. Missed my old one too much not to.”
Minker smirked. “You and your toys.” He glanced significantly at Connor.
Becker felt just a tiny bit of annoyance at that, but let it slide, only laying a protective hand on Connor’s shoulder. Then he got an idea. “Hey, Minker, you have anything going on right now?”
“Now that I’ve found the Mossberg, no. Something in mind?”
“Well, Connor here was about to head to the showers. And seeing as he’s had a rough day, would be nice if he weren’t interrupted. Can you see to that?”
Minker smirked again--damn him--but he nodded. “Of course, cap’n. Will steer everyone clear of that corridor.” He dipped his head to Connor. “Well done today, by the way, Temple. You’re quite the brave young man.”
Connor brightened at the praise. “Thanks very much!”
True to Minker’s words, the locker room was utterly deserted by the time they arrived. After Becker gently helped Connor out of his filthy, torn clothes, and ditched his own kit, they were finally properly together, embracing as the warm water swept away the day’s dirt, sweat and blood.
“It seems like a lifetime ago,” Connor murmured, leaning back into Becker’s chest and hugging the arms that enfolded him.
“Hm?”
“Your flat. That first morning in the shower.” Connor looked over his shoulder, smiling languidly.
Becker flushed as the memories came flooding back: Connor’s near-innocence, his eagerness, his surprise and delight at Becker’s advances. In the relatively short time that he and Abby had been back, the trio had spent virtually every spare moment naked and entangled, doing everything they could imagine. It was a whirlwind of bliss, and he was deliriously happy with all of it. Yet, remembering that first time with Connor made everything else come sharply into focus.
“It does seem a lifetime, yeah,” Becker said thoughtfully.
Connor’s voice went soft. “Are we different people, now?”
Becker hummed quietly, thinking and nuzzling Connor's ear. “Maybe. But it’s not a bad thing. I don’t think in my case, at least.”
“Yeah?”
“When I took you home then, I was lying to myself. I pretended that I just wanted to be with you for a night. Help you feel better about Abby. Have some fun.”
“We did, didn’t we?” Connor brought one of Becker's hands to his mouth and kissed the palm, echoing the long-ago touch of Becker's that had sparked the first moment between them.
Becker smiled. “Of course. But there was more to it than that for me. I just didn’t know it at the time.” He caressed Connor’s back and shoulders. “It took losing you two to really break down that wall for me. I tried to go back to how I was before, but it never happened. I can still be, you know, professional and such when I need to be, but I’m finally letting myself feel something now. I never really did that before. And I have you two to thank for that.”
“Well, you’re welcome?” Connor grinned. “But no, I get it. Abby and I… It took us months to get over ourselves, even when we were the only two humans in existence. And of course, it was talking about you that finally did it.”
“None of us are really good at this, are we?” Becker smiled sheepishly.
“The spitting-it-out thing? Yeah. No.” Connor laughed a little. “I’m too spacy, you’re too stoic and Abby’s too…” he shrugged, not finding the word. “Armoured. Something like that.”
“Yeah.” Becker nodded in understanding. His stomach clenched a little, still worried about how distant she’d been. “I think she still has a lot of walls up. I feel like I barely know her sometimes. Do you s’pose she’ll ever tell me about her past?”
“I dunno. She’s only told me a little, actually. I know she has some pretty big demons there, but I also know better than pushing her. It’d just make things worse.”
“It would. I just hope she trusts me enough someday. Though after today, I’m not sure that’s going to happen anytime soon.”
Connor frowned. “How so?”
“Well, the whole blowing you up thing.”
Connor huffed quietly. “Damn. It was the right thing to do, though. Matt knew what he was doing. I trusted him.”
“I did too, mostly. But she didn’t. She trusted me to make the right decision. And she kept telling me not to do it. It was only because of Lester’s order that I actually flipped that switch, and I think she’s really upset with me for not ignoring him.”
“Well, I seem to recall telling you to do it, too.” Connor set his jaw. “So if she doesn’t get over it, let me talk to her. I’ve seen her like this before. It usually takes a combination of common sense and some reassurance that she’ll be looked after. I think she’ll take that from you, but if not, I know she’ll take it from me.”
Becker frowned, but tried to take some solace in that. “OK. I hope you’re right.” He wasn’t actually sure Connor could talk Abby down, if her mind was set, but it was, really, the only hope.
“It’ll be fine, Becks. I promise. We’ll all be fine.” Connor reached behind him and gently stroked a hand over Becker’s hip.
“OK.” He relaxed, the touch soothing him somewhat. The caress also reminded him of how close they were, and how good it felt to be skin-to-skin with Connor, whom he’d barely seen in the last few days. “So,” he said teasingly. “Up for a little walk down memory lane?” He slipped a soapy hand between them and traced down the cleft of Connor’s arse.
Connor gasped and smiled. “Ah, yeah. I think ‘up’ is most definitely the right word.” He drew a deep, shuddering breath and tilted his hips. Becker’s fingers slipped deeper, and traced soapy circles around Connor's hole, probing and relaxing the twitching muscles. Connor purred and backed in to the touch, murmuring encouragement as Becker's fingers moved inside him. But after a few moments, Connor winced again, favouring his leg. “Not sure I can stand much longer, dammit,” he said sadly.
Becker thought for a moment. “S’OK. You don’t have to.”
“Hey?”
“C’mere.” Gently turning Connor around, he manoeuvred until Connor’s back was against the wall of the shower. Then, getting a good grip on Connor’s waist, he lifted him up, moving forward to support Connor’s weight on his hips.
“Whoa!” Connor laughed a little in surprise, instinctively grasping Becker’s shoulders and wrapping his legs around Becker’s waist. “Sure you can hold me?”
“Of course.” Becker pressed against him. Connor’s slender frame was actually quite light in his arms, especially as he was braced against the wall. He shifted a little, adjusting his grip to take some pressure off of Connor’s injured leg.
And then he gently eased Connor down.
“Oh… Oh god…” Connor groaned, clinging to Becker’s neck and trembling as he was filled up, gravity helping Becker bury himself nicely deep.
It always felt so good, that first slip inside him. Every bit as tight and warm as the first time, things were nonetheless a little different, now. Connor’s body took him more readily, for one, conditioned as it was to respond to Becker’s anatomy. He was also much more sure of himself than he’d been that first day, eagerly tilting his hips just so, and moving in an instinctive way with Becker’s rhythm.
So in sync were they now that it was only a short time before both were groaning roughly, mouths mashed together as their mutual pace quickened. Connor was actually aroused enough that only the barest bit of friction against Becker set him off, and soon, he was squirming and mewling as his cock spurted across their bellies. Becker tried to hold back, knowing how little time he had left with his lover and wanting to make the moment last, but the greedy way Connor’s body clutched at him was too much, and soon, he, too was peaking, pushing as deeply as he could, tense, trembling muscles only barely keeping them both upright.
Finally, they were both weak enough that they had to disengage. Becker gingerly lifted Connor off, and set him down carefully, minding his injury.
They finished rinsing off, caressing and kissing here and there in silent communication.
The rude jangling of Connor’s mobile, sat on the bench in the other room, broke their reverie. “April’s expecting me,” Connor said quietly.
“I know.” Becker’s jaw tightened, but he tried to not let his frustration show. “I know you have things to do. I’ll miss you, though. And Abby will, too.”
Connor looked torn. “I know she will. Please give her my love, yeah?”
Becker bit his lip. “Of course. If she’ll let me.”
“She'll let you. I’ve made her angry more times than I can count, and she’s still with me, so there’s that, yeah? She’ll come round. I’m sure of it.”
***
So much for that, Becker thought wryly, as he reread the same paragraph in his book for the sixth time. Apart from a brief conversation in the car on the way home from the ARC—she responded well, at least, to the report of his short time with Connor—they’d barely spoken for hours, each nursing their own pain individually.
The words began to run together on the page, and he rubbed his eyes. When his vision cleared, he glanced up, and to his surprise, found Abby looking at him.
Taking a chance, he held her gaze. “Hey,” he said softly.
She opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. Finally, she nodded. “Hey.”
Setting aside his book, he got up, and ambled toward her in a way he hoped seemed as unthreatening as possible. When he reached her side, he tentatively put a hand on her shoulder. She, to his great relief, accepted the touch, closing her eyes and sighing heavily.
“We don’t have to wait up for him,” she said, a hint of sadness in her voice.
“OK.” Reaching for her hand, he helped her to her feet, and led her down the corridor to the bedroom.
They undressed, and climbed into bed, Abby turning to face away from him.
After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. “Are you still angry with me?”
“It’s done, Becker.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing more to say.”
“Are you sure? Because I—“
She turned quickly, and silenced him with a hand to his mouth. “Yes, I’m sure. I don’t want to talk about that.”
“OK.” He mumbled into her hand. She took it away. “What do you want, then?”
Taking his face in her hands, she pushed an inelegant kiss on him. It took him by surprise, but he kissed back, taking comfort in the familiar feel of her soft mouth.
Finally, she pulled away. “I know it’s not your fault he’s not here.”
“But you wish he was.”
“I do.”
“So do I. I’m sorry I’m not him.”
She shook her head. “I’m not. I’m in love with you, too, remember?” She kissed him again.
A short wave of shock ran through him. They’d spoken around the topic many times, but not quite in so many words. That she was saying that now said volumes about her current raw state of mind.
“Abby…” he began, hesitantly, wondering if this was really the mood she should be in when they were close like this.
“Don’t.” She stopped him. “I need you, Becker. I’m aching right now, and I just need you. Please?” Her eyes were wide and a little wet, the clear blue visible even in the low light.
Pushing back the trepidation, he pulled her close. “Of course, baby.”
His earlier tryst with Connor had given him stamina even beyond his normal long endurance—and he needed it. For an hour, he worked her in every way, hands and mouth roaming her body from top to toe, bringing her to writhing, growling peaks time and again. He came close himself a few times—very close when she had two fingers up his arse and his cock down her throat—but he held on, knowing she needed him to give her more.
Finally, she relented, and lay back, splaying out wantonly, her messy hair a damp halo across the pillow. Her mouth hung open, and she panted heavily. “Fuck me, Becker,” she pleaded, stroking a hand across her open, wet cleft. “Fuck me hard.”
He tried to ignore the little warning bell that the desperation in her voice set off. She was there, ready, available. Not just willing, but begging for it. If she had been any other woman, he’d still have thought twice about it. But this was Abby. His Abby, he reminded himself. She had wounds that went deeper than he might ever understand, but she was also one of the toughest, most fierce people he’d ever known. He knew that, as was often the case for him, the kind of therapy she needed right now was this.
And aside from all that, given the delicious vision laid out before him, his cock was demanding that he fulfill her request.
With only a moment to position himself, he descended upon her, catching up her hips in his hands and pulling her to him as he quickly shoved himself inside. She gasped in happy shock, and threw her arms around his neck, clinging to him much the same as Connor had only hours earlier. They were similar in some ways, she and Connor—slender, wiry, apt to push back and give as much as they got—but Abby was still different. Not just anatomically, but in spirit. Where Connor broke readily, submitting quickly as his instinct dictated, she fought back. He had to work to get to her, his muscles tight and burning as he heaved and bucked and drove himself into her. Tiny as she was, she seemed made from steel cable, and where nearly anyone else would break, she only bent—and not far, at that.
Finally, just as it seemed he had nothing more left for her, and was about to give in to his body’s pleas for release, he buried his face in her hair. Gasping for breath, he deliriously huffed the words that had been threatening to come from him all night.
“Abby… I love you…”
Her body went slack. For a moment, he was terrified that he’d done something horribly wrong. The panic was enough to shave the edge off of his impending orgasm, and he froze, buried inside her, wondering if he should keep going or stop or just evaporate entirely.
But then she spoke. A bare whisper, it was nonetheless clear and strong and completely sincere. “I love you, too.” As the last word faded from his ear, it was replaced by a deep gasp. Her body tightened, wound up like a spring, and then, suddenly, she crashed, clinging to him in desperation, and whimpering pathetically with each shock as it rocked her body. On the final waves, he felt her sobbing, dampening his shoulder with hot tears.
His own release, while deeply satisfying, was nearly forgotten in the chaos. All he could think of was holding her as close as possible, trying to shelter and heal her from whatever pain she still had. He blinked back his own tears, knowing she needed his strength.
It seemed ages that they lay there together, curled up around each other, his softening, wet cock still held inside her as she trembled weakly. There were no more words—they didn’t need them.
When she was finally calm again, he slipped out, and moved onto his side, shifting just enough to give her some air. She still folded up in his arms, however, and stayed there, relaxing enough that she fell asleep. Once he was certain she was out, he finally drifted off, too.
***
Connor must have found them like that. His side of the bed showed a shallow imprint of his body, and the shower was steamy when Becker toddled into the bathroom the next morning. Momentary worry about Connor’s reaction was relieved when Becker found his phone showing a voicemail.
“Looks like you two kissed and made up. Yay!" Connor's voice sounded sleepy. "Sorry I missed it. Work calls. Do me a favor and love her as much as you can right now. I’m not sure I’ll be able to do much of that myself in the near future. This project I’m on… Well, I can’t tell you. Just… know that I wish I was there, yeah?”
Abby wandered in, rubbing her makeup-smudged eyes. Even after the comfort he'd tried to give her, and a good night's sleep, she still, to his dismay, looked a little shell shocked. “Connor’s at work again.”
“Yeah.” He switched off the phone.
She shrugged numbly, getting in to the shower. “S’OK,” she mumbled from behind the glass. “I still have you.”
He shivered, staring at the phone as if it might come to life and give him the backup he needed. He would, true to his duty and his own feelings, give her as much love as one person possibly could.
He just wasn’t sure he could give her enough for two.
--End--