Fic, Of Woodpiles and Puppies, Becker/Ryan, Puppies, 165

[fredbassett]

Title : Of Woodpiles and Puppies
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 15
Characters : Becker/Ryan, Alex, Marcus and Kay
Disclaimer : Not mine (and the pups belong to fifi), no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Becker and Ryan have to stack a woodpile and naturally the pups do their best to help.
A/N : Written for lukadreaming because on some days only puppies will make things better. 2) Shameless schmoop and shower!sex.

Becker pushed sweat-dampened hair out of his eyes and stared at Ryan belligerently.

“Remind me again whose idea this was?”

“Yours,” Ryan said, grinning. “You said you liked the wood-burning stove in the cabin at Christmas.”

“I said the kids liked it.”

Ryan lowered his voice. “That wasn’t what you said when I fucked you in front of it on the sheepskin rug after the kids had gone to bed.”

Becker gave him an outraged glare.

“They’re not listening.” Ryan waved his hand in the direction of where three excited pups were clambering over the enormous pile of wood that had been dumped onto a large blue tarpaulin at the side of the house. They appeared to be playing a variant of I’m the King of the Castle where Kay danced around on top of the stack and kicked logs down on her brothers. It didn’t look either healthy or safe, but they were certainly enjoying themselves.

The wood-burner had been installed at the weekend, courtesy of Ditzy and Blade, and the wood had been delivered the following day, but this was the first time they’d been off shift together with time to start on the long, hot job of creating a woodpile under the lean-to at the back of the house, knocked up by Finn and Lyle during the fitting of the stove.

The promise of a weekend barbeque and a few beers had brought them plenty of offers of help. Finn’s woodworking skills had come as something of a surprise, and with Lyle fetching and carrying, the shelter had soon taken shape. Cutter had taken charge of the barbie, and Stephen had produced a lethal line of homemade cocktails that had resulted in a few sore heads the following morning.

Now all they had to do was get the wood neatly stacked.

Becker had to admit that there were some consolations to the back-breaking work. Ryan had already pulled off his teeshirt and changed into a pair of faded denim shorts. Sweat slicked his tanned shoulders and was sliding in runnels down his back. Becker was tempted to lean in and nuzzle the back of Ryan’s neck, but his three furry offspring would no doubt have something uncomplimentary to say about such a display of affection. Instead, he had to content himself watching the smooth play of muscle and sinew as Ryan bent down, grabbed a log in each hand and placed them on the stack.

Becker had to admit it was a good sight.

“Less perving, more stacking,” Ryan commented. “Do you want to pass the logs to me or do the stacking?”

Becker opted to pass. That way he could keep an eye on the kids at the same time. Their latest game seemed to involve clambering to the stop of the loose pile, then seeing how far they could jump. Kay seemed to be in the lead, and the zest with which she flung herself from the top made Becker seriously question his youngest’s sense of self-preservation, but he’d long since learned that the pups were a lot tougher than they looked.

He grabbed the two logs closest to him and handed them to Ryan.

Wash, rinse, repeat throughout a long, hot, afternoon. Ryan was a slave-driver when he had a task to complete and he was determined to get the logs stacked by teatime. Every half an hour, they took a break, but even so, Becker’s muscles were starting to feel distinctly over-stretched. This was starting to bear too close a resemblance to basic training for his liking.

A sharp bark brought him back to the present and he looked down to find Alex at his feet, one of the smaller logs in his mouth.

Becker took it from him. “Thanks, kiddo.”

That set a precedent, and soon the three pups were vying with each other to see who could deliver the most logs. They could only manage the small round ones, but Becker had to admit that every log was a help, and each delivery stopped him having to reach over to the far side of the stack as, little by little, it started to diminish.

Despite the warmth of the afternoon, the pups kept at it, choosing which log to carry, picking it up in sharp white teeth and then trotting proudly over to drop their burden at Becker’s feet. The log pile rose steadily as the heap on the ground fell. Ryan took great care to make sure that the ends of the stack stayed stable, alternating how the logs were laid to lay down an interlocking lattice work pattern that kept each end square. When they changed places in what had become a chain-gang, Becker was careful to maintain the same degree of precision.

“If social services could see this they’d have us up on charges of child abuse,” Ryan panted.

Becker grinned. “Just as long as you don’t try sending them up the chimney when it needs cleaning….”

“The thought had never crossed my mind,” Ryan said, glancing down at Marcus, the thought that a black pup and soot was a marriage made in heaven clearly uppermost in his mind,

Marcus looked up and gave a cheeky bark.

By the time the last log went onto the pile, the puppies were flagging, but all three of them had been determined to see the job through to the end. They flopped down on the patio, pink tongues hanging out as they panted. Becker fetched a large bowl of iced water from the kitchen and the three of them fell on it with gusto, plunging their muzzles into the water and lapping enthusiastically.

Ryan grabbed a couple of cold beers from the fridge and tossed one of the cans over to him. Becker drained it with indecent haste and happily accepted a second one.

They were all hot, tired and covered in wood dust. As soon as the pups had drained their bowl of water, they dived into the paddling pool to cool off, but for once, lacked the energy for their usual rough and tumble. Becker flopped down by the side of the pool and splashed water over his shoulders to cool off. The remains of the barbeque food in the fridge would make a simple tea, and he knew that for once, it wouldn’t be difficult to get the pups to go to bed. They had just enough energy left to eat their tea, clean their teeth and snuggle down in their baskets.

Becker kissed each of his kids goodnight, tucked their light summer blankets around them and turned off the bedroom light.

“They won’t wake up till the morning,” he said as he closed the door.

“Good.” Ryan slipped his arms around Becker’s waist and pulled him close for a kiss. “Shower then bed?”

“Shower, more beer, then bed,” Becker amended.

While Ryan went to fetch more beer, Becker stripped off quickly, dropping his sweat-soaked clothes into the laundry basket. Evening had brought with it cooler air, and a warm shower would wash away the afternoon’s labours and relax his muscles. He adjusted the temperature and stepped under the jets. Warm water cascaded down over him and Becker let it start to wash away the sweat and grime from his body.

There had been something intensely satisfying about a hard afternoon’s work with his mate and his pups, and Becker felt his cock start to swell at the memory of Ryan’s strong arms hefting the cut logs onto the ever-growing pile.

“Starting without me?” Ryan said, appearing in the door of the bathroom, a can of beer in each hand.

Becker squeezed a dollop of liquid soap onto his palm and slicked it along his hardening cock at the same time as holding his other hand out for the beer.

“\just multi-tasking.”

Ryan balanced his own beer the edge of the bath while he quickly stripped, tossing his grubby shorts on top of Becker’s discarded clothes.

Becker’s response was to take a long swallow of beer at the same time as tugging himself to full hardness. The cold beer slid down his throat in welcome contrast to the warm water cascading down over his body. When he’d finished, he tossed the empty can to Ryan and continue to fist his cock.

“Shit, you look hot like that,” Ryan growled, finishing his own beer and stepping into the shower to join him.

Becker leaned back against the cool tiles, feet spread and hips canted out, his erection jutting out form the tangle of dark hair at his groin. One of Ryan’s hands snaked around the back of his neck while the other dropped down to Becker’s cock and wrapped around it, taking over and upping the pace. His lover’s grip was confident, knowing exactly how Becker liked to be touched. Becker let his eyes fall shut as he gave himself over to the pleasure of the moment.

Ryan leaned against him, his own cock hot and hard against Becker’s hip. The kiss they shared tasted of beer. Ryan’s teeth grazed his lips and his tongue duelled for dominance in Becker’s mouth.

Secure in the knowledge that his pups were safely tucked up in their baskets, Becker melted into Ryan’s touch, his hands dropping down to his lover’s hard cock. With their mouths locked together, they worked each other to climax. Becker felt heat pool in his belly as sparks danced along his nerve-endings and he came on the hard, flat planes of Ryan’s stomach. Becker watched as ropes of come landed on his lover’s hip before being washed away by the jets of water. A moment later, Ryan’s cock pulsed in his hands.

Becker’s eyes fell shut as he thrust into the circle of Ryan’s fingers, the small aftershocks of orgasm running through his body. He let his head rest on Ryan’s shoulder as he revelled in the closeness and the touch of skin on skin. When they’d finally wring the last remaining dregs of sensation from each other’s bodies, Becker turned off the water and let Ryan guide him out of the shower. A warm towel was wrapped around his body and together, they dried the water from each other’s skin.

Wrapped in bathrobes, they conducted their nightly ritual of checking on their children.

The three puppies were all still snug in their baskets. Alex was lying on his back, the fleece blanket pushed to one side as he snored gently. Marcus was curled into a tight ball, his pink tongue protruding slighty from between his teeth. Kay was sprawled half in, half out of her basket, both hindpaws twitching as she dreamed.

Becker smiled, knowing that he was conforming to every stereotype of the fond parent in existence and not caring. Ryan pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and murmured, “I love you, Hilary Becker.”

Becker pressed back against him and replied, “I love you, too, Tom Ryan.”

And between them lay the knowledge that, above life itself, they loved the three pups sleeping soundly in their pawprint baskets.