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fredbassettTitle : Joining the Dots
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen/Clone!Nick
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : s3.3
Summary : Stephen needs to extend the clone’s education again, this time even more intimately than on the last occasion. A sequel to Do One, Teach One.
A/N : Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
reggietate ’s birthday. I hope you have a lovely day! Also entered for the fortnightly challenge on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
cutters_lab . With many thanks to lukadreaming for the beta.
Stephen came awake instantly, the way he always did: one moment asleep, the next awake, with no discernible transition between the two.
His companion slept on. Blond hair in disarray on the pillow, eyes closed, face peaceful and strangely innocent. So alike the man he’d worked with for the past nine years and yet so different. The real Nick Cutter was probably asleep as well, lying in a hospital bed, out of danger now, but hooked up to a frightening number of machines. Stephen hadn’t been able to spend as much time at the hospital as he would have liked, mainly due to the fact that the other legacy left behind after Helen’s attempt to kill her husband and destroy the ARC had attached itself very firmly to Stephen and would get distressed if left with anyone else for too long. Visiting someone in hospital with their exact replica in tow would provoke more questions that even the inestimable Jenny Lewis would be able to explain away.
The clone – Stephen was trying really hard to think of him as a person, not an object – turned over in sleep, grunting slightly the way Cutter always did when they shared a tent on field trips. The noise made Stephen’s heart jump slightly in his chest. He’d dreamed often enough about waking up next to Cutter in a real bed but the only times it had happened had been after a heavy night’s drinking when they had each been trying to drown a different sort of sorrow. They’d always woken in the morning with shame-faced looks and mouths like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, with the unspoken agreement that any drunken fumbling had been fuelled by nothing more than alcohol and desperation.
The previous night had been nothing like that. They’d spent the evening together in Stephen’s flat, eating takeaway pizza, and watching television. The clone had shown no interest in soap operas or football, but – like Cutter – had been wholly absorbed by a wildlife documentary. He was now almost wholly at home with everyday things like making a drink and doing the washing up. And after the episode in the ARC’s toilets that afternoon, Stephen had overcome his embarrassment and made sure that his new companion knew how to deal with other bodily functions as well. But fortunately that matter had proved relatively straightforward, much to Stephen’s relief.
It was almost as if everything the clone needed to know was locked away in his head somewhere, but unless someone else showed him how to access the information, the neural pathways remained closed. The medics in the ARC had no idea how much information had been programmed into Cutter’s replica. It seemed like Helen had only bothered to provide rudimentary instructions on most things, no doubt because she hadn’t expected her creation to survive long enough to need to know how to perform anything more than a few basic actions.
In spite of that, Stephen was reasonably certain that with time and patience, the clone would be able to function as a normal person, although what the hell they would do with two Cutters, no one was entirely sure. And the mere thought of that had been enough to bring a look of complete horror to Lester’s face, although he had been surprisingly amenable to allowing Stephen to take the other Cutter home with him.
When Stephen had showed the clone the spare room, all he’d got in return was a puzzled look. This Cutter didn’t take well to rejection and Stephen couldn’t bear the expression of puzzled hurt that had settled on the all too familiar features when Stephen had tried to get him to spent the night alone, so he’d simply found an old pair of pyjamas and handed them over. He’d discovered very shortly afterwards that Cutter’s replica had the original’s dislike of sleeping in clothes. Within half an hour, they’d both been naked under the duvet and the clone had quickly fallen asleep.
Another grunt and a shift of position told Stephen that his companion was now waking up. He’d spent enough time with Cutter to recognise the signs. A moment later, the duvet was thrown back, and a sleep-dishevelled clone got to his feet and wandered instinctively in the direction of the bathroom, sporting a very impressive morning erection. Stephen closed his eyes, all too conscious of the effect a naked Cutter was likely to have on him.
A few moments later, a puzzled voice from the en suite bathroom said hesitantly, “Stephen…”
Stephen opened his eyes and stared up at the bedroom ceiling. He had a strong feeling that yet another neural pathway needed to be mapped. “Just relax,” he called out. “It’ll go down in a minute or two then you’ll be able to pee.”
Exactly two minutes passed, then the clone’s voice said, “Stephen, it’s not going down.”
He recognised the slight edge of panic that the clone got when it (he, damn it, he) was trying – and failing – to make sense of something. Stephen had known since the episode in the toilets that he was going to end up crossing this bridge at some point and it looked very much like that point had just arrived.
“Come back to bed,” he said, closing his eyes again and trying to convince himself that the clone was a fully-developed human being, not some sort of child trapped in a man’s body.
None of them knew what processes Helen had used to engineer her replicas, but Stephen was wholly sure that this man was as fully human as the original Nick Cutter, with everything that humanity entailed. It was just a case of bringing the innate knowledge to the surface. And the clone had already proved to be a quick learner.
The clone did as Stephen had asked, climbing back into bed and staring down at the erect cock that had had prevented him emptying his bladder. This was another way in which Helen’s construct resembled the original Cutter. It was a standing joke between them that Cutter was completely incapable of peeing with an erection, whereas all Stephen needed to do was relax slightly and the flow would start. Cutter, on the other hand, would often need to resolve the problem when it occurred with a quick wank.
Fighting down a flush of embarrassment, Stephen lifted the duvet and nodded down at his own erection.
The clone smiled widely, obviously comforted by the sight.
“Touch yourself,” Stephen said quietly.
The puzzled expression returned.
“Like this.” Stephen reached down and curled his fist around his own erection.
The clone followed suit, a slight frown of concentration on the familiar face. He’d looked like that when Stephen had shown him how to tie the laces on his boots. Hoping that his bedfellow would soon join the mental dots where this particular activity was concerned, Stephen proceeded to stroke himself slowly by way of demonstration, emulating Cutter’s own preferred methods.
His companion’s movements were clumsy and uncertain and Stephen watched the look of frustration take over again. Biting back a slight sigh, he reached out to guide the clone’s movements, settling his hand on top of the other man’s and trying to set the right rhythm. The translucent bead of pre-come that soon formed at the tip of the other man’s cock was a testament to his success. A noise very close to a contented purr reinforced the point.
Stephen closed his eyes against the rush of emotions that threatened to engulf him. He’d heard that sound from Cutter on several occasions, but not with his hand at the tiller, so to speak, or at least not when he’d been sober enough to remember it the next day. He’d dreamed of doing this whilst sober more times than he cared to remember, but he’d never expected his solitary fantasies to get this close to warm reality.
The clone rolled onto his side, and Stephen knew, without looking, that those blue eyes were fixed on his face. He quickened the movements of his hand and felt the other man give an involuntary thrust into his fist. It looked like the dots in this particular picture were starting to join up. Stephen used pre-come leaking from the clone’s cock to slick his movements and a quiet gasp told him that a climax wasn’t far off.
Almost unwillingly, Stephen opened his eyes. He’d dreamed so often of this moment that he couldn’t bring himself to miss it. The clone’s pupils were so blown so wide that they looked almost black, not blue, and he was now breathing hard, small tremors running through his body and his eyes locked with Stephen’s and with a final, almost inaudible gasp, his hips jerked and hot come splashed onto Stephen’s arm.
A look of surprised delight lit the clone’s face. Stephen closed his eyes again, trying to hold onto that image. His heart was racing and his own cock was still painfully hard, but he’d be able to deal with that in a minute when the clone went back into the bathroom…
A tentative hand wrapped itself around Stephen’s cock. His eyes shot open in reaction. The clone was still smiling, but this time the look on his face was almost playful. Soft lips swallowed Stephen’s gasp. It was an awkward kiss, all noses and teeth to start with, then a sticky hand stroked his cheek and tilted his head, and then they were kissing properly. Stephen had never kissed Nick Cutter, so he had no comparisons to distract him now.
Their mouths worked together and Stephen found himself on the receiving end of an inexpertly delivered but extremely satisfying hand-job. Warmth coiled in his guts and Stephen came in a hot rush.
“Nick…” The name caught in his throat. This wasn’t Nick and Stephen knew that. They both knew that. The clone drew back, the familiar expression of hesitancy settling back onto his face. On impulse, Stephen leaned forward and captured his lips again in a breathless kiss. “Nicky.”
“Nicky?” The blue eyes were puzzled but pleased.
“Nicky,” Stephen said with determination. “It’s what someone he knew used to call him when he was a student.”
“Rina Suvova.” The name was spoken in little more than a whisper.
It looked very much like an invisible pencil was starting to join up some more dots in the clone’s – Nicky’s – mind.
“He spent a summer on digs with her in Russia,” Stephen said quietly.
Nicky’s smile broadened. “I know. Is that my name now? She…” he hesitated and Stephen knew instinctively that he was no longer referring to Nick Cutter’s old teacher. “She said I didn’t need a name.”
Stephen pressed a kiss onto the other man’s lips. “Everyone needs a name.”
Nicky threw back the duvet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I think I’ll be able to pee now,” he announced. “Then can we have some coffee?”
Coffee.
The hard, coiled knot in Stephen’s stomach that even his climax hadn’t managed to banish finally stared to loosen.
Nick Cutter always drank tea first thing in the morning.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Stephen/Clone!Nick
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : s3.3
Summary : Stephen needs to extend the clone’s education again, this time even more intimately than on the last occasion. A sequel to Do One, Teach One.
A/N : Written for
reggietate ’s birthday. I hope you have a lovely day! Also entered for the fortnightly challenge on cutters_lab . With many thanks to lukadreaming for the beta.Stephen came awake instantly, the way he always did: one moment asleep, the next awake, with no discernible transition between the two.
His companion slept on. Blond hair in disarray on the pillow, eyes closed, face peaceful and strangely innocent. So alike the man he’d worked with for the past nine years and yet so different. The real Nick Cutter was probably asleep as well, lying in a hospital bed, out of danger now, but hooked up to a frightening number of machines. Stephen hadn’t been able to spend as much time at the hospital as he would have liked, mainly due to the fact that the other legacy left behind after Helen’s attempt to kill her husband and destroy the ARC had attached itself very firmly to Stephen and would get distressed if left with anyone else for too long. Visiting someone in hospital with their exact replica in tow would provoke more questions that even the inestimable Jenny Lewis would be able to explain away.
The clone – Stephen was trying really hard to think of him as a person, not an object – turned over in sleep, grunting slightly the way Cutter always did when they shared a tent on field trips. The noise made Stephen’s heart jump slightly in his chest. He’d dreamed often enough about waking up next to Cutter in a real bed but the only times it had happened had been after a heavy night’s drinking when they had each been trying to drown a different sort of sorrow. They’d always woken in the morning with shame-faced looks and mouths like the bottom of a parrot’s cage, with the unspoken agreement that any drunken fumbling had been fuelled by nothing more than alcohol and desperation.
The previous night had been nothing like that. They’d spent the evening together in Stephen’s flat, eating takeaway pizza, and watching television. The clone had shown no interest in soap operas or football, but – like Cutter – had been wholly absorbed by a wildlife documentary. He was now almost wholly at home with everyday things like making a drink and doing the washing up. And after the episode in the ARC’s toilets that afternoon, Stephen had overcome his embarrassment and made sure that his new companion knew how to deal with other bodily functions as well. But fortunately that matter had proved relatively straightforward, much to Stephen’s relief.
It was almost as if everything the clone needed to know was locked away in his head somewhere, but unless someone else showed him how to access the information, the neural pathways remained closed. The medics in the ARC had no idea how much information had been programmed into Cutter’s replica. It seemed like Helen had only bothered to provide rudimentary instructions on most things, no doubt because she hadn’t expected her creation to survive long enough to need to know how to perform anything more than a few basic actions.
In spite of that, Stephen was reasonably certain that with time and patience, the clone would be able to function as a normal person, although what the hell they would do with two Cutters, no one was entirely sure. And the mere thought of that had been enough to bring a look of complete horror to Lester’s face, although he had been surprisingly amenable to allowing Stephen to take the other Cutter home with him.
When Stephen had showed the clone the spare room, all he’d got in return was a puzzled look. This Cutter didn’t take well to rejection and Stephen couldn’t bear the expression of puzzled hurt that had settled on the all too familiar features when Stephen had tried to get him to spent the night alone, so he’d simply found an old pair of pyjamas and handed them over. He’d discovered very shortly afterwards that Cutter’s replica had the original’s dislike of sleeping in clothes. Within half an hour, they’d both been naked under the duvet and the clone had quickly fallen asleep.
Another grunt and a shift of position told Stephen that his companion was now waking up. He’d spent enough time with Cutter to recognise the signs. A moment later, the duvet was thrown back, and a sleep-dishevelled clone got to his feet and wandered instinctively in the direction of the bathroom, sporting a very impressive morning erection. Stephen closed his eyes, all too conscious of the effect a naked Cutter was likely to have on him.
A few moments later, a puzzled voice from the en suite bathroom said hesitantly, “Stephen…”
Stephen opened his eyes and stared up at the bedroom ceiling. He had a strong feeling that yet another neural pathway needed to be mapped. “Just relax,” he called out. “It’ll go down in a minute or two then you’ll be able to pee.”
Exactly two minutes passed, then the clone’s voice said, “Stephen, it’s not going down.”
He recognised the slight edge of panic that the clone got when it (he, damn it, he) was trying – and failing – to make sense of something. Stephen had known since the episode in the toilets that he was going to end up crossing this bridge at some point and it looked very much like that point had just arrived.
“Come back to bed,” he said, closing his eyes again and trying to convince himself that the clone was a fully-developed human being, not some sort of child trapped in a man’s body.
None of them knew what processes Helen had used to engineer her replicas, but Stephen was wholly sure that this man was as fully human as the original Nick Cutter, with everything that humanity entailed. It was just a case of bringing the innate knowledge to the surface. And the clone had already proved to be a quick learner.
The clone did as Stephen had asked, climbing back into bed and staring down at the erect cock that had had prevented him emptying his bladder. This was another way in which Helen’s construct resembled the original Cutter. It was a standing joke between them that Cutter was completely incapable of peeing with an erection, whereas all Stephen needed to do was relax slightly and the flow would start. Cutter, on the other hand, would often need to resolve the problem when it occurred with a quick wank.
Fighting down a flush of embarrassment, Stephen lifted the duvet and nodded down at his own erection.
The clone smiled widely, obviously comforted by the sight.
“Touch yourself,” Stephen said quietly.
The puzzled expression returned.
“Like this.” Stephen reached down and curled his fist around his own erection.
The clone followed suit, a slight frown of concentration on the familiar face. He’d looked like that when Stephen had shown him how to tie the laces on his boots. Hoping that his bedfellow would soon join the mental dots where this particular activity was concerned, Stephen proceeded to stroke himself slowly by way of demonstration, emulating Cutter’s own preferred methods.
His companion’s movements were clumsy and uncertain and Stephen watched the look of frustration take over again. Biting back a slight sigh, he reached out to guide the clone’s movements, settling his hand on top of the other man’s and trying to set the right rhythm. The translucent bead of pre-come that soon formed at the tip of the other man’s cock was a testament to his success. A noise very close to a contented purr reinforced the point.
Stephen closed his eyes against the rush of emotions that threatened to engulf him. He’d heard that sound from Cutter on several occasions, but not with his hand at the tiller, so to speak, or at least not when he’d been sober enough to remember it the next day. He’d dreamed of doing this whilst sober more times than he cared to remember, but he’d never expected his solitary fantasies to get this close to warm reality.
The clone rolled onto his side, and Stephen knew, without looking, that those blue eyes were fixed on his face. He quickened the movements of his hand and felt the other man give an involuntary thrust into his fist. It looked like the dots in this particular picture were starting to join up. Stephen used pre-come leaking from the clone’s cock to slick his movements and a quiet gasp told him that a climax wasn’t far off.
Almost unwillingly, Stephen opened his eyes. He’d dreamed so often of this moment that he couldn’t bring himself to miss it. The clone’s pupils were so blown so wide that they looked almost black, not blue, and he was now breathing hard, small tremors running through his body and his eyes locked with Stephen’s and with a final, almost inaudible gasp, his hips jerked and hot come splashed onto Stephen’s arm.
A look of surprised delight lit the clone’s face. Stephen closed his eyes again, trying to hold onto that image. His heart was racing and his own cock was still painfully hard, but he’d be able to deal with that in a minute when the clone went back into the bathroom…
A tentative hand wrapped itself around Stephen’s cock. His eyes shot open in reaction. The clone was still smiling, but this time the look on his face was almost playful. Soft lips swallowed Stephen’s gasp. It was an awkward kiss, all noses and teeth to start with, then a sticky hand stroked his cheek and tilted his head, and then they were kissing properly. Stephen had never kissed Nick Cutter, so he had no comparisons to distract him now.
Their mouths worked together and Stephen found himself on the receiving end of an inexpertly delivered but extremely satisfying hand-job. Warmth coiled in his guts and Stephen came in a hot rush.
“Nick…” The name caught in his throat. This wasn’t Nick and Stephen knew that. They both knew that. The clone drew back, the familiar expression of hesitancy settling back onto his face. On impulse, Stephen leaned forward and captured his lips again in a breathless kiss. “Nicky.”
“Nicky?” The blue eyes were puzzled but pleased.
“Nicky,” Stephen said with determination. “It’s what someone he knew used to call him when he was a student.”
“Rina Suvova.” The name was spoken in little more than a whisper.
It looked very much like an invisible pencil was starting to join up some more dots in the clone’s – Nicky’s – mind.
“He spent a summer on digs with her in Russia,” Stephen said quietly.
Nicky’s smile broadened. “I know. Is that my name now? She…” he hesitated and Stephen knew instinctively that he was no longer referring to Nick Cutter’s old teacher. “She said I didn’t need a name.”
Stephen pressed a kiss onto the other man’s lips. “Everyone needs a name.”
Nicky threw back the duvet and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “I think I’ll be able to pee now,” he announced. “Then can we have some coffee?”
Coffee.
The hard, coiled knot in Stephen’s stomach that even his climax hadn’t managed to banish finally stared to loosen.
Nick Cutter always drank tea first thing in the morning.
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Date: 2011-01-16 11:00 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-01-16 11:28 am (UTC)Bloody hell, I've just realised I didn't thank you for the beta! ARGH. *rushes to amend* Sorry, sweetie!
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Date: 2011-01-16 11:55 am (UTC)Ha! Pissing fic for a birthday. This is wonderful.
So fucking hot, rrrrrr.
Exactly two minutes passed, then the clone’s voice said, “Stephen, it’s not going down.”
*howls laughing*
OMG, just YUM. Yay Nicky :D
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Date: 2011-01-16 11:58 am (UTC)I had a lot of fun researching the question of how easy it is for blokes to pee with an erection, and there are definitely a reasonable number who just can't do it at all. *g*
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Date: 2011-01-16 12:04 pm (UTC)Hah, yes, it must be awkward *g* It was very touching :)
And I loved the tea/coffee thing. *squee*
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Date: 2011-01-16 12:47 pm (UTC)Loved the look of horror on Lester's face at the idea of two Cutters, and that moment at the end where Nicky wants coffee rather than tea, and Stephen realises Nicky has the potential to develop as his own person.
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Date: 2011-01-16 01:56 pm (UTC)I'm really glad that did come over in the ending. That's exactly what I was aiming at but I wasn't sure whether I;d managed to pull it off.
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Date: 2011-01-16 12:52 pm (UTC)That was simply fabulous!
They're so sweet together it's heartbreaking! They both need a huge hug!
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Date: 2011-01-16 01:34 pm (UTC)Lovely.
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Date: 2011-01-16 01:40 pm (UTC)Happy Birthday
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Date: 2011-01-16 08:15 pm (UTC)This was great, just great. The emotions on Stephen's part...!
"And the mere thought of that had been enough to bring a look of complete horror to Lester’s face," < LOL!
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Date: 2011-01-17 09:48 am (UTC)////what the hell they would do with two Cutters, no one was entirely sure.////
*offers to draw some instructive diagrams* Or there are some kinky action figure photos from the Denial weekends that should suffice...
I'm looking forward to seeing what happens to this dynamic when Cutter arrives home from the hospital!
////He had a strong feeling that yet another neural pathway needed to be mapped.////
LOL. And the clone being literal re the minutes.
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Date: 2011-08-18 08:54 am (UTC)This was amazing!
The level of angst was exactly what I love. Intense! And the fic had such tender moments. I am a sucker for those quiet moments like the first kiss and the fact that Stephen didn't have anything to compare it to. The slow build-up of the clone's developing personality is really a treat and that ending (tea vs. coffee) was a very nice touch.
(Still laughing at the look of horror on Lester's face at the thought of TWO Cutters. *g*)
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Date: 2011-08-18 08:59 am (UTC)Thanks :) Poor Lester would need therapy with two of them around!