Fic, Trust, Part 3, Stephen/Ryan, Slash, 18

[fredbassett]

Title : Trust, Part 3
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Characters : Stephen, Ryan
Rating : 18
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue
Spoilers : None.
Summary/Warning : Continuing a Sunday morning in bed. Restraint!porn. No like, no read.
A/N : The remainder of this series can be found here
Tags : fic, slash, Stephen, Ryan

The sharp, acrid smell of Ryan’s sweat filled his nostrils.

Stephen was so hard now it was painful. His cock was pressed up against the soldier’s thigh and it was all he could do to stop himself humping Ryan’s leg like some sort of irritating and over-exuberant Labrador puppy.

He wanted this, wanted it so much that it hurt.

Stephen wanted to bury his hopes for the future and his fears from the past inside his lover’s tight ass. He wanted to drive out the jealous little worm that had taken up residence in his guts.

He wanted to prove to himself that Ryan trusted him as much as he trusted his own men. As much as he trusted Lyle. More, even.

But still he held back.

He knew perfectly well that Ryan hadn’t wanted to do this. 

The subject had come up a few times, and each time Ryan had dismissed the suggestion. Even after their sex talk in the crevasse, he still hadn’t believed his lover would actually go through with it.

On the only previous occasion they’d tried this, he’d got as far as securing one wrist, then the soldier had grabbed the pliers out of his hands, cut the tie and had proceeded to fuck Stephen through the mattress by way of a consolation prize.

This time was different. He’d reduced Ryan to quivering and moaning in the past, but never for so long and never with the same wanton, wild edge. His lover’s breath was coming in great heaving gulps, almost as if he was having trouble remembering how to breathe.

The few words that Stephen could make out consisted of little more than fuck or now.

Even so, in spite of all his talk, and he enjoyed the talk, there was no doubt about that, Stephen found, somewhat to his own surprise, that he didn’t actually want to hurt this man.

Yes, he’d been less than careful on a few occasions in the past, he’d admit that. He still regretted what he’d done in the shower when Ryan had been weak from the after effects of flu and his encounter with the T rex.

But nothing he’d done had been with the deliberate intention of inflicting pain. That was the difference. And it was a difference that was restraining Stephen as much as the cable ties round Ryan’s wrists were restraining the soldier.

It took anger to make Stephen Hart want to hurt someone he cared about. And he wasn’t angry now. A bit jealous maybe, but not enough to make him want to hurt Ryan. To do something that he knew would cause real pain and draw blood.

There was no doubt in his mind that the Special Forces captain did like it rough on occasion. The drag of teeth or the rake of fingernails was often enough to finish him and Stephen had been stunned more than once by his lover’s ability to get a post-combat hard on and then insist on it being dealt with, no matter what other injuries he might have sustained which needed treatment in priority.

It was a standing joke amongst Ryan’s men that no matter how much of his own blood had been spilt, their captain would only want Ditzy’s ministrations after Stephen had relieved his more pressing needs.

After the incident outside Clearwell, they’d even stopped taking bets on the subject, much to Lyle’s irritation.

Stephen cursed his own indecision. He started to rub his cock against Ryan’s leg, as his own breathing started to quicken and his heart rate steadily climbed upwards.

He was working Ryan now with three fingers.

The soldier was still panting and moaning. He seemed to lack the muscle coordination needed to push against the intrusion and although his shoulders and arms were still straining against the cable ties, where it mattered most, Ryan was curiously relaxed.

If Stephen was going to do this, now was the time.

He knew he could bring Ryan off whenever he wanted in this situation. Frankly, just letting go of his cock would probably be enough. But if he just copped out and did that, would he ever get another chance at this?

And if he didn’t, would it matter?

He now had what he’d craved. He had ample evidence of his lover’s trust, spread out in front of him, moaning, sweating, open for him, wanting him, even like this, even dry.

And then he realized that Ryan was doing more than just moaning. Doing more than simply asking to be fucked.

He was begging for it.

Reluctance reached the end of a long walk off a short pier. And jumped, taking indecision along for the ride.

Stephen shifted position in one fluid movement, letting go of Ryan’s cock, taking the weight on his elbow, positioning himself carefully, hoping, even praying that the fluid already coating his own cock would be enough.

Then he was thrusting in. It was hot, and tight, and dry and it felt better than he ever remembered anything feeling.

With his last conscious thought, he angled himself quite deliberately for maximum effect and then thrust again and again.

Short and shallow at first, then deeper and harder, in response to Ryan’s continued pleading.

Stephen’s movements were ragged, graceless, lacking any style or finesse. His own need swamped him and he bit down hard on the back of Ryan’s neck while he buried himself to the balls in his lover’s tight ass.

Then he was falling deep into the darkness inside his own head, dropping down a slope from which there was no return, and he had no idea whose cries he could hear, his own or Ryan’s, as he thrust the most intense climax of his life into the trusting body of his lover.

His own gasps came from pleasure.

He hoped the same was true for Ryan.

*          *          *

Stephen came to his senses sprawled loosely across Ryan’s back, listening to the loud thump of his lover’s heart, feeling it reverberate through the soldier’s body, as he lay beneath him in boneless, gasping abandon.

He pulled out of Ryan as carefully as he could, and quickly clipped the cable ties and pulled off the sock padding. One had slipped, leaving behind a nasty red cut on Ryan’s left ankle. Both his wrists and the other ankle were rubbed almost raw.

He also took a moment to examine his lover’s ass. There was a smear of blood, bright red, but nowhere near as much as he’d expected.

Stephen lowered his head and used his tongue to salve the damage.

Ryan moaned softly but didn’t try to draw away.

He pulled Ryan into his arms and held him close while the final tremors of orgasm subsided, leaving the other man breathing deeply, seemingly almost on the verge of sleep.

A contented wiffle replaced the earlier moans.

Ryan’s breath tickled the hollow of Stephen’s throat. He wrapped a protective arm round clammy shoulders and he pressed a gentle kiss onto his lover’s equally sweaty forehead.

Ryan wiffled again and snuggled closer.

Stephen grinned. 

Ryan had embarrassed him often enough in the past with references to kitten noises.  He wondered if now was the time to tell the Special Forces captain that when he was very, very contented, he actually sounded not dissimilar to a piglet.

A cute, military piglet, but a piglet nonetheless.