Fic, Accepted, Ryan/Lester, 18
Jul. 3rd, 2020 06:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Accepted
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Ryan/Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : s1.4
Summary : Sometimes Lester has a bad day as well.
A/N : This follows on from Anonymous and Acknowledged
Ryan’s phone rang just as he’d got in through the door of the flat.
Claudia.
If someone had found another sodding parasite infested dodo, Hart could bloody well shoot it.
“Ms Brown?”
“The doctor who got bitten at the hospital has pulled through. I thought you’d like to know.”
Ryan hadn’t actually met the man but he was glad to know that he hadn’t died. Unlike Tom. “Thanks, Ms Brown. How’s Connor doing?”
“Cutter and Abby are with him.” She hesitated, then added apologetically, “I was about to text you; Lester wants a debrief tomorrow at 8 o’clock.”
“He usually does,” Ryan said equably. “Thanks for phoning, Ms Brown, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Unless they got another call out tonight, but if that happened, some other fucker could drive. For once, Ryan had managed to go shopping and he had both food and drink in the flat. The food consisted of microwaveable ready meals and oven chips, but it was a hell of a step up from cheese and mouldy bread.
He grabbed a cold beer and headed for the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, still damp, wearing nothing more than a pair of loose black sweatpants and a very old, very soft cotton teeshirt, the hardest decision facing him was whether to have macaroni cheese, fish pie or lasagne.
The knock on the flat door came as a surprise. Apart from nodding on the stairs, he hadn’t actually met any of his neighbours, and there wasn’t anyone likely to drop in. None of the lads on the team even knew where he lived, and anyway, they all had his phone number of they needed him for anything.
He opened the door, his eyes widening involuntarily.
Sir James Lester, casually dressed in yet another cashmere sweater – navy blue, this time – over black jeans, stood on the doormat wearing an uncertain smile and carrying a bottle of decent Scotch and two bottles of red wine.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d go to the club tonight or not,” Lester said. “It can’t have been pleasant watching Connor’s friend die.”
“It wasn’t, especially as I’d just been a heartbeat away from killing him myself.”
“I know. Claudia phoned me.” Lester held out the bottles. “I’ll leave you in peace, Ryan. Have this round on me.” His eyes looked bleak, as if Ryan’s reception had lived down to his low expectations.
“No, you bloody well won’t,” Ryan said quickly. “I’m not the only one in this outfit who has bad days. I was just surprised to see you. I didn’t even realise you knew where I lived.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “The expenses come out of the project’s budget. It was hardly the most difficult piece of detective work I’ve ever done.”
Ryan stood to one side and waved him into the flat. “Have you eaten?”
Lester hesitated, looking vague.
“I’ll take that as a no. Macaroni cheese, fish pie or lasagne?”
“Whichever you don’t want.”
“I’ve got two of each. Buy one, get one free on the lot.”
“Macaroni cheese?”
“Good choice.”
While Ryan stuck the chips and the two ready meals in the oven and set the timer, Lester opened one of the bottles of red and found the glasses.
Ryan’s first mouthful brought an appreciative smile to his face. He’d drunk decent wine before, but nothing as good as that. There was no point in looking at the label. It was going to be well out of his price range.
One of the good things about the bland flat was the very large and very comfortable sofa in the living room. Before Lester had chance to make for the single armchair, Ryan waved him to one end and settled himself down a couple of feet away, tucking his feet up under him.
Lester’s habitual self-possession was nowhere in sight. They’d never talked much, but the dry asides and acid wit seemed to have deserted him. When Ryan looked closer, he realised Lester looked tired and there were lines at the corner of his eyes that Ryan didn’t remember noticing.
“Is there a problem with the anomaly project?”
“You mean apart from Cutter’s eccentricities, the high attrition rate on soldiers and civilians and a Minister who can’t understand why we haven’t wrapped the whole mess up already and seems to be taking the damn thing personally?”
“Apart from that how did you enjoy the play, Mrs Lincoln?”
Lester favoured him with a tired smile. “My decree absolute was on the mat when I got home.”
“I’m sorry.” Ryan took a mouthful of wine. “What went wrong?”
“My work.”
“And the fact that you prefer men?”
“That didn’t help. Someone we know saw me coming out of the Waterloo on a night I said I was working late. He told his sister. She told my wife. The rest is history – and solicitors’ fees.”
“What about the kids?”
“They’ll live with her.”
Ryan reached for the bottle and topped up Lester’s glass. “Why the Waterloo?”
“It helps me forget. And continuing to go is a fuck you to Gavin Rogerson whenever I see him in there.”
“The guy who dobbed you in?”
“The very same. It was worth it to tell him the guy he’d just sucked off had crabs.”
Ryan nearly spat red wine over the cream leather sofa. “How the hell did you know that?”
“I didn’t. But he didn’t, either, and the look on his face was priceless. When I next saw him he’d saved off his hipster beard and got a buzz cut. I did apologise to the other guy but he thought it was funny. Apparently, the lovely Gavin gives crap blowjobs as well, so Freddie told him crabs could live in eyebrows as well. Gavin didn’t appear again until they’d mostly regrown.”
The laughter smoothed out the sharp lines on Lester’s face, leaving him looking younger and more relaxed.
Ryan had done some discreet digging. James Lester was eight years older than him and had been married for eleven years. His wife – ex-wife – was a high-flier in a city PR firm and his three kids were nine, seven and five. The fact that he preferred men wasn’t generally known.
And the fact that he appeared to have no one else to drown his sorrows with on the night his divorce came through said a lot.
Ryan slid his hand onto Lester’s thigh, half-expecting it to be pushed off, but instead Lester toed his shoes off and tucked his feet up under him, mirroring Ryan’s position, and resting his head on the back of the sofa. His expression was open and vulnerable.
Ryan took Lester’s glass from his hand and set it down on the coffee table with his own.
“Will you let me kiss you?” he asked.
Lester’s eyes widened. “We’ve fucked and we’ve sucked each other off. Why would I mind if you kissed me?”
“I’ve never kissed a bloke I hooked up with in a toilet, and I doubt you have, either. Negotiating in advance seemed a good way to avoid any fuck ups. And I really would like to kiss you.” The bleep of the oven timer cut through the sudden silence. “Hold that thought,” Ryan said, getting up and putting his hand down to Lester. “You look like a man who hasn’t eaten in 24 hours and I could east a pig with measles.”
Macaroni cheese and a mountain of oven chips put an end to conversation, leaving Ryan free to concentrate on the serious business of eating. Judging by the quality of the wine, Ryan doubted that frozen macaroni cheese and oven chips usually figured highly in his companion’s dietary habits but Lester ate quickly and seemed to enjoy it, even filching a couple of extra chips from Ryan’s plate, which led to a sharp rap over his knuckles with a fork followed by Ryan handing over a loaf of sliced bread and some butter so that Lester could make himself a chip butty. He was fast revising his earlier estimate. Lester was eating like a man who hadn’t had any food in two days rather than just one.
When he’d finished, Ryan quickly washed up and they retired back to the sofa with the second bottle of wine. Ryan had flipped off the main lights, leaving only the warm yellow glow from a table lamp by the television. Lester looked comfortable and relaxed and didn’t object when Ryan gently rested his hand on his thigh again.
Lester shuffled closer, and drew his feet up again, leaning into Ryan’s touch, and looking pleased when Ryan slipped and arm around his shoulder. He wouldn’t have taken Lester for a cuddler but the impression he was getting now was of a man who’d been touch starved for so bloody long, covering stark emptiness with sharp suits and an even sharper tongue.
Ryan stroked Lester’s arm, enjoying the softness of the cashmere under his fingers, feeling Lester begin to relax against him. They’d never talked much, and Ryan wasn’t sure how to take any of the hurt away with words, they didn’t know each other well enough for that, but he knew how to give comfort with his hands. He’d held enough shaking, terrified young soldiers, calming them after their first taste of action, with adrenaline coursing through their system and tears on their faces, too far gone for even a parade ground voice to penetrate the fog in their heads. Unlike some officers, Ryan had rapidly learnt that there was more to leading men than a loud voice.
They shared a wine glass, and when it was empty, Ryan set it down carefully and turned so that Lester was still cradled in his arms, his held tilted back so that Ryan could lean in for the kiss he’d negotiated. He kept it light, no more than a simple press of lips to start with, then he gently brought his tongue into play, tasting the rich wine on Lester’s lips. Lester’s mouth opened under his and his hand came up to stroke the back of Ryan’s neck.
Ryan deepened the kiss, their mouths working together, then the last of Lester’s control slipped away and he was kissing like a dying man who’d staggered the last few feet to a water hole. They shifted position, mouths still locked together so that Lester lay sprawled on Ryan’s chest, kissing hard, deep and wet, no finesse now, just need and want. Ryan was hard just from this, and he could feel Lester’s erection pressing into his hip, but this was about more than just chasing quick completion. He wanted to take Lester apart slowly, to show him that there was more to sex that just a hard cock up a barely-prepared arse.
When they finally drew apart, Lester smiled, reminding Ryan again how much younger that simple gesture made him look. “Thank you.”
“That was the first time you’ve ever kissed a bloke, wasn’t it?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“No, but I’m a highly trained observer, remember?”
“Taxpayers’ money well spent, I’m sure.” Lester pressed an almost chaste kiss to Ryan’s lips. “Yes. Kissing’s far too intimate for a hook up in the Waterloo. Besides, you’d never know whose cock they’d been sucking.”
Ryan’s arms tightened around him. He’d used places like that often enough in the past. It made a change from his own hand. But it was the kissing and the warmth of another body pressed up against him that he’d missed most. His last relationship had ended when his boyfriend had made it plain that he couldn’t stand the strain of never knowing where Ryan was and when – or if – he’d come back, and had happily traded Ryan in for a used car salesman with a flashy open-topped Jag and regular working hours.
They lay like that for an hour, trading lazy kisses and getting used to the feel of each other. Ryan learnt that Lester liked his hair being stroked, and Lester learned that he could provoke a full body shiver of pure pleasure by nuzzling Ryan in the hollow below his ear, knowledge that he promptly set about exploiting with shameless efficiency. Ryan couldn’t remember when he’d last spent so long snogging on a sofa but the admission that this was the first time Lester had kissed a man had brought out his protective streak and he was determined to make this evening special for him without rushing things.
They finished the wine, and moved onto sharing a whisky, chasing the taste of it around each other’s mouths. Their cocks were still hard, but neither of them had made a move in that direction and Ryan was enjoying the sweet ache.
Eventually, he murmured, “Shall we take this into the bedroom? No pressure if you’d rather go home instead. We can take this as slowly as you want.”
Lester’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Are we practising reverse dating?”
Ryan grinned lazily. “I was being an officer and a gentleman and taking it slowly.”
The look Lester gave him was equal parts amusement and heat. “May I use your shower first? I came here straight from Marsham Street.”
“Be my guest. There’s a spare set of towels in there and an unopened packet of three toothbrushes. You’re welcome to the dressing gown on the back of the door. It came out of the wash last night, should be dry by now.”
Leaving Lester to take a shower in private, Ryan tidied up and sorted out clothes for the morning. Civvies for the de-brief in the office and a set of clean black combats to lob in the Range Rover. By the time he’d finished, Lester emerged from the bathroom, hair sticking up in damp spikes, wearing only Ryan’s black towelling dressing gown.
Sensing a slight hesitancy in the man, Ryan turned off the main light, leaving the room lit only by haze of light pollution that London was never without spilling in through the large window, then he pulled his teeshirt over his head, pushed off his jogging pants and slipped under the duvet, pulling it back invitingly. If Lester’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of Ryan’s naked body, Ryan pretended not to notice.
Lester pulled the cord loose and slipped the dressing gown off his shoulders to reveal a pale, toned body, with no spare fat.
Ryan smiled appreciatively. “Squash or tennis?”
“Squash, but not as often as I’d like.”
Lester joined him under the duvet and Ryan pulled him into a gentle hug, their bodies pressed together fully for the first time without the barrier of clothing. Ryan ran his hands over warm, citrus smelling skin, nuzzling damp hair and seeking out Lester’s mouth again, tasting toothpaste instead of whisky. As they kissed, Lester’s hands roamed over Ryan’s chest and down to his hips, before stroking gently over the hard length of Ryan’s cock with a soft touch wholly unlike their previous encounters. They were touching each other like a couple of teenagers, hesitantly but with growing confidence.
The kiss gathered intensity until Lester was lying underneath him, fingers digging into Ryan’s arse, grinding their trapped cocks together.
“Can we take this further?” Ryan murmured.
“Still negotiating?”
“Just checking…”
By way of answer, Lester slipped out from under him and rolled over onto his stomach.
Ryan pressed a kiss in between his shoulders. “Only to start with. Then I want to see your face when you come.”
When Lester didn’t object, Ryan quickly reached over into the drawer by the bed to find what he needed. With slick fingers, he stroked over Lester’s hole, teasing the puckered flesh, knowing that Lester had probably never encountered gentleness there, either. The type of encounter he’d always sought out wasn’t big on foreplay. With his other hand, he rubbed small circles on Lester’s lean back and stroked his toned arse before slipping one finger inside the warm, pliant body.
Lester gave a small sigh of pleasure as he tightened around the intrusion.
Ryan continued the slow rhythm, adding a second finger, enjoying the heat of Lester’s body, letting him get used to the sensation of being touched like that, drawing out occasionally to circle him again before dipping back inside, drawing out a small hitch in Lester’s breath. Once he was sure any residual embarrassment had been driven out by the unfamiliar but clearly not unwelcome feeling of two slick fingers buried in his body, Ryan quickly rolled on a condom and turned Lester over onto his back so he could kneel between his legs, and hitch Lester up onto his thighs.
Lester’s cock was hard and leaking and Ryan drank in the sight before pushing Lester’s legs up and nudging gently at his relaxed body. With his eyes fixed on Lester’s face for any sign of discomfort, he pushed slowly in.
Lester arched up to meet his thrust and said, “You know perfectly well I can take it.”
Without warning, Ryan snapped his hips forward. “I know you can.”
Lester threw his head back and gasped. “Christ, that’s good.”
Ryan laughed. “Nice to know, and it’s a fuck sight more comfortable than the bog in the Waterloo.”
Then he was moving again, learning exactly what it took to make Lester come steadily apart beneath him, finding the spot that made him gasp aloud in sharp pleasure, knowing when to alternate fast, hard thrusts with long, slow strokes, working Lester’s cock gently in his slick fingers, occasionally leaning forward to capture Lester’s mouth in a deep, messy kiss that owed everything to need and nothing to finesse.
Ryan could feel the heat building inside him and knew he couldn’t hold back much longer, no matter how much he might want to. Changing the angle of his thrusts to provoke those sharp gasps and breathy moans again, he watched Lester straining to meet him, pushing back hard, taking everything Ryan was giving, his hands fisted in the sheets now, then he stiffened and Ryan felt Lester’s body tense around him as his cock pulsed and he hit climax, coming thickly over the taut plane of his stomach. His expression was utterly open, his eyes fixed on Ryan’s face lit only by the warm glow coming from the window. Lester’s own face was softened by pleasure and Ryan knew without needing to be told that he’d just been given something he’d only dreamed about but hadn’t dared believe he could actually have.
The feeling of Lester’s body spasming helplessly around his cock and the warmth in his shadowed eyes was what Ryan had been waiting for, and he felt his own pleasure surge through him, hot and sharp. Gasping, he leaned forward again to lose himself in in a soft kiss as they rolled sideways and straightened tangled limbs, laughing and touching like two teenagers who’d just discovered there was more to sex that porno mags and biology lessons had led them to believe.
When Ryan finally disengaged long enough to dispose of the condom and clean them both up with a warm flannel, Lester looked up at him with an amused gleam in his eyes. “I don’t smoke, but a post-coital whisky would be nice.”
Ryan bent down for a kiss. “Can you stay the night?”
“If I wouldn’t be outstaying my welcome…”
“Just a shame some awkward bastard called a team meeting for 8am.”
“Early rising is a virtue.”
“I’ve never had a problem rising early in the morning.”
“Looking forward to it already,” Lester murmured.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Ryan/Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine, no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : s1.4
Summary : Sometimes Lester has a bad day as well.
A/N : This follows on from Anonymous and Acknowledged
Ryan’s phone rang just as he’d got in through the door of the flat.
Claudia.
If someone had found another sodding parasite infested dodo, Hart could bloody well shoot it.
“Ms Brown?”
“The doctor who got bitten at the hospital has pulled through. I thought you’d like to know.”
Ryan hadn’t actually met the man but he was glad to know that he hadn’t died. Unlike Tom. “Thanks, Ms Brown. How’s Connor doing?”
“Cutter and Abby are with him.” She hesitated, then added apologetically, “I was about to text you; Lester wants a debrief tomorrow at 8 o’clock.”
“He usually does,” Ryan said equably. “Thanks for phoning, Ms Brown, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Unless they got another call out tonight, but if that happened, some other fucker could drive. For once, Ryan had managed to go shopping and he had both food and drink in the flat. The food consisted of microwaveable ready meals and oven chips, but it was a hell of a step up from cheese and mouldy bread.
He grabbed a cold beer and headed for the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, still damp, wearing nothing more than a pair of loose black sweatpants and a very old, very soft cotton teeshirt, the hardest decision facing him was whether to have macaroni cheese, fish pie or lasagne.
The knock on the flat door came as a surprise. Apart from nodding on the stairs, he hadn’t actually met any of his neighbours, and there wasn’t anyone likely to drop in. None of the lads on the team even knew where he lived, and anyway, they all had his phone number of they needed him for anything.
He opened the door, his eyes widening involuntarily.
Sir James Lester, casually dressed in yet another cashmere sweater – navy blue, this time – over black jeans, stood on the doormat wearing an uncertain smile and carrying a bottle of decent Scotch and two bottles of red wine.
“I wasn’t sure whether you’d go to the club tonight or not,” Lester said. “It can’t have been pleasant watching Connor’s friend die.”
“It wasn’t, especially as I’d just been a heartbeat away from killing him myself.”
“I know. Claudia phoned me.” Lester held out the bottles. “I’ll leave you in peace, Ryan. Have this round on me.” His eyes looked bleak, as if Ryan’s reception had lived down to his low expectations.
“No, you bloody well won’t,” Ryan said quickly. “I’m not the only one in this outfit who has bad days. I was just surprised to see you. I didn’t even realise you knew where I lived.”
Lester rolled his eyes. “The expenses come out of the project’s budget. It was hardly the most difficult piece of detective work I’ve ever done.”
Ryan stood to one side and waved him into the flat. “Have you eaten?”
Lester hesitated, looking vague.
“I’ll take that as a no. Macaroni cheese, fish pie or lasagne?”
“Whichever you don’t want.”
“I’ve got two of each. Buy one, get one free on the lot.”
“Macaroni cheese?”
“Good choice.”
While Ryan stuck the chips and the two ready meals in the oven and set the timer, Lester opened one of the bottles of red and found the glasses.
Ryan’s first mouthful brought an appreciative smile to his face. He’d drunk decent wine before, but nothing as good as that. There was no point in looking at the label. It was going to be well out of his price range.
One of the good things about the bland flat was the very large and very comfortable sofa in the living room. Before Lester had chance to make for the single armchair, Ryan waved him to one end and settled himself down a couple of feet away, tucking his feet up under him.
Lester’s habitual self-possession was nowhere in sight. They’d never talked much, but the dry asides and acid wit seemed to have deserted him. When Ryan looked closer, he realised Lester looked tired and there were lines at the corner of his eyes that Ryan didn’t remember noticing.
“Is there a problem with the anomaly project?”
“You mean apart from Cutter’s eccentricities, the high attrition rate on soldiers and civilians and a Minister who can’t understand why we haven’t wrapped the whole mess up already and seems to be taking the damn thing personally?”
“Apart from that how did you enjoy the play, Mrs Lincoln?”
Lester favoured him with a tired smile. “My decree absolute was on the mat when I got home.”
“I’m sorry.” Ryan took a mouthful of wine. “What went wrong?”
“My work.”
“And the fact that you prefer men?”
“That didn’t help. Someone we know saw me coming out of the Waterloo on a night I said I was working late. He told his sister. She told my wife. The rest is history – and solicitors’ fees.”
“What about the kids?”
“They’ll live with her.”
Ryan reached for the bottle and topped up Lester’s glass. “Why the Waterloo?”
“It helps me forget. And continuing to go is a fuck you to Gavin Rogerson whenever I see him in there.”
“The guy who dobbed you in?”
“The very same. It was worth it to tell him the guy he’d just sucked off had crabs.”
Ryan nearly spat red wine over the cream leather sofa. “How the hell did you know that?”
“I didn’t. But he didn’t, either, and the look on his face was priceless. When I next saw him he’d saved off his hipster beard and got a buzz cut. I did apologise to the other guy but he thought it was funny. Apparently, the lovely Gavin gives crap blowjobs as well, so Freddie told him crabs could live in eyebrows as well. Gavin didn’t appear again until they’d mostly regrown.”
The laughter smoothed out the sharp lines on Lester’s face, leaving him looking younger and more relaxed.
Ryan had done some discreet digging. James Lester was eight years older than him and had been married for eleven years. His wife – ex-wife – was a high-flier in a city PR firm and his three kids were nine, seven and five. The fact that he preferred men wasn’t generally known.
And the fact that he appeared to have no one else to drown his sorrows with on the night his divorce came through said a lot.
Ryan slid his hand onto Lester’s thigh, half-expecting it to be pushed off, but instead Lester toed his shoes off and tucked his feet up under him, mirroring Ryan’s position, and resting his head on the back of the sofa. His expression was open and vulnerable.
Ryan took Lester’s glass from his hand and set it down on the coffee table with his own.
“Will you let me kiss you?” he asked.
Lester’s eyes widened. “We’ve fucked and we’ve sucked each other off. Why would I mind if you kissed me?”
“I’ve never kissed a bloke I hooked up with in a toilet, and I doubt you have, either. Negotiating in advance seemed a good way to avoid any fuck ups. And I really would like to kiss you.” The bleep of the oven timer cut through the sudden silence. “Hold that thought,” Ryan said, getting up and putting his hand down to Lester. “You look like a man who hasn’t eaten in 24 hours and I could east a pig with measles.”
Macaroni cheese and a mountain of oven chips put an end to conversation, leaving Ryan free to concentrate on the serious business of eating. Judging by the quality of the wine, Ryan doubted that frozen macaroni cheese and oven chips usually figured highly in his companion’s dietary habits but Lester ate quickly and seemed to enjoy it, even filching a couple of extra chips from Ryan’s plate, which led to a sharp rap over his knuckles with a fork followed by Ryan handing over a loaf of sliced bread and some butter so that Lester could make himself a chip butty. He was fast revising his earlier estimate. Lester was eating like a man who hadn’t had any food in two days rather than just one.
When he’d finished, Ryan quickly washed up and they retired back to the sofa with the second bottle of wine. Ryan had flipped off the main lights, leaving only the warm yellow glow from a table lamp by the television. Lester looked comfortable and relaxed and didn’t object when Ryan gently rested his hand on his thigh again.
Lester shuffled closer, and drew his feet up again, leaning into Ryan’s touch, and looking pleased when Ryan slipped and arm around his shoulder. He wouldn’t have taken Lester for a cuddler but the impression he was getting now was of a man who’d been touch starved for so bloody long, covering stark emptiness with sharp suits and an even sharper tongue.
Ryan stroked Lester’s arm, enjoying the softness of the cashmere under his fingers, feeling Lester begin to relax against him. They’d never talked much, and Ryan wasn’t sure how to take any of the hurt away with words, they didn’t know each other well enough for that, but he knew how to give comfort with his hands. He’d held enough shaking, terrified young soldiers, calming them after their first taste of action, with adrenaline coursing through their system and tears on their faces, too far gone for even a parade ground voice to penetrate the fog in their heads. Unlike some officers, Ryan had rapidly learnt that there was more to leading men than a loud voice.
They shared a wine glass, and when it was empty, Ryan set it down carefully and turned so that Lester was still cradled in his arms, his held tilted back so that Ryan could lean in for the kiss he’d negotiated. He kept it light, no more than a simple press of lips to start with, then he gently brought his tongue into play, tasting the rich wine on Lester’s lips. Lester’s mouth opened under his and his hand came up to stroke the back of Ryan’s neck.
Ryan deepened the kiss, their mouths working together, then the last of Lester’s control slipped away and he was kissing like a dying man who’d staggered the last few feet to a water hole. They shifted position, mouths still locked together so that Lester lay sprawled on Ryan’s chest, kissing hard, deep and wet, no finesse now, just need and want. Ryan was hard just from this, and he could feel Lester’s erection pressing into his hip, but this was about more than just chasing quick completion. He wanted to take Lester apart slowly, to show him that there was more to sex that just a hard cock up a barely-prepared arse.
When they finally drew apart, Lester smiled, reminding Ryan again how much younger that simple gesture made him look. “Thank you.”
“That was the first time you’ve ever kissed a bloke, wasn’t it?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“No, but I’m a highly trained observer, remember?”
“Taxpayers’ money well spent, I’m sure.” Lester pressed an almost chaste kiss to Ryan’s lips. “Yes. Kissing’s far too intimate for a hook up in the Waterloo. Besides, you’d never know whose cock they’d been sucking.”
Ryan’s arms tightened around him. He’d used places like that often enough in the past. It made a change from his own hand. But it was the kissing and the warmth of another body pressed up against him that he’d missed most. His last relationship had ended when his boyfriend had made it plain that he couldn’t stand the strain of never knowing where Ryan was and when – or if – he’d come back, and had happily traded Ryan in for a used car salesman with a flashy open-topped Jag and regular working hours.
They lay like that for an hour, trading lazy kisses and getting used to the feel of each other. Ryan learnt that Lester liked his hair being stroked, and Lester learned that he could provoke a full body shiver of pure pleasure by nuzzling Ryan in the hollow below his ear, knowledge that he promptly set about exploiting with shameless efficiency. Ryan couldn’t remember when he’d last spent so long snogging on a sofa but the admission that this was the first time Lester had kissed a man had brought out his protective streak and he was determined to make this evening special for him without rushing things.
They finished the wine, and moved onto sharing a whisky, chasing the taste of it around each other’s mouths. Their cocks were still hard, but neither of them had made a move in that direction and Ryan was enjoying the sweet ache.
Eventually, he murmured, “Shall we take this into the bedroom? No pressure if you’d rather go home instead. We can take this as slowly as you want.”
Lester’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Are we practising reverse dating?”
Ryan grinned lazily. “I was being an officer and a gentleman and taking it slowly.”
The look Lester gave him was equal parts amusement and heat. “May I use your shower first? I came here straight from Marsham Street.”
“Be my guest. There’s a spare set of towels in there and an unopened packet of three toothbrushes. You’re welcome to the dressing gown on the back of the door. It came out of the wash last night, should be dry by now.”
Leaving Lester to take a shower in private, Ryan tidied up and sorted out clothes for the morning. Civvies for the de-brief in the office and a set of clean black combats to lob in the Range Rover. By the time he’d finished, Lester emerged from the bathroom, hair sticking up in damp spikes, wearing only Ryan’s black towelling dressing gown.
Sensing a slight hesitancy in the man, Ryan turned off the main light, leaving the room lit only by haze of light pollution that London was never without spilling in through the large window, then he pulled his teeshirt over his head, pushed off his jogging pants and slipped under the duvet, pulling it back invitingly. If Lester’s eyes widened slightly at the sight of Ryan’s naked body, Ryan pretended not to notice.
Lester pulled the cord loose and slipped the dressing gown off his shoulders to reveal a pale, toned body, with no spare fat.
Ryan smiled appreciatively. “Squash or tennis?”
“Squash, but not as often as I’d like.”
Lester joined him under the duvet and Ryan pulled him into a gentle hug, their bodies pressed together fully for the first time without the barrier of clothing. Ryan ran his hands over warm, citrus smelling skin, nuzzling damp hair and seeking out Lester’s mouth again, tasting toothpaste instead of whisky. As they kissed, Lester’s hands roamed over Ryan’s chest and down to his hips, before stroking gently over the hard length of Ryan’s cock with a soft touch wholly unlike their previous encounters. They were touching each other like a couple of teenagers, hesitantly but with growing confidence.
The kiss gathered intensity until Lester was lying underneath him, fingers digging into Ryan’s arse, grinding their trapped cocks together.
“Can we take this further?” Ryan murmured.
“Still negotiating?”
“Just checking…”
By way of answer, Lester slipped out from under him and rolled over onto his stomach.
Ryan pressed a kiss in between his shoulders. “Only to start with. Then I want to see your face when you come.”
When Lester didn’t object, Ryan quickly reached over into the drawer by the bed to find what he needed. With slick fingers, he stroked over Lester’s hole, teasing the puckered flesh, knowing that Lester had probably never encountered gentleness there, either. The type of encounter he’d always sought out wasn’t big on foreplay. With his other hand, he rubbed small circles on Lester’s lean back and stroked his toned arse before slipping one finger inside the warm, pliant body.
Lester gave a small sigh of pleasure as he tightened around the intrusion.
Ryan continued the slow rhythm, adding a second finger, enjoying the heat of Lester’s body, letting him get used to the sensation of being touched like that, drawing out occasionally to circle him again before dipping back inside, drawing out a small hitch in Lester’s breath. Once he was sure any residual embarrassment had been driven out by the unfamiliar but clearly not unwelcome feeling of two slick fingers buried in his body, Ryan quickly rolled on a condom and turned Lester over onto his back so he could kneel between his legs, and hitch Lester up onto his thighs.
Lester’s cock was hard and leaking and Ryan drank in the sight before pushing Lester’s legs up and nudging gently at his relaxed body. With his eyes fixed on Lester’s face for any sign of discomfort, he pushed slowly in.
Lester arched up to meet his thrust and said, “You know perfectly well I can take it.”
Without warning, Ryan snapped his hips forward. “I know you can.”
Lester threw his head back and gasped. “Christ, that’s good.”
Ryan laughed. “Nice to know, and it’s a fuck sight more comfortable than the bog in the Waterloo.”
Then he was moving again, learning exactly what it took to make Lester come steadily apart beneath him, finding the spot that made him gasp aloud in sharp pleasure, knowing when to alternate fast, hard thrusts with long, slow strokes, working Lester’s cock gently in his slick fingers, occasionally leaning forward to capture Lester’s mouth in a deep, messy kiss that owed everything to need and nothing to finesse.
Ryan could feel the heat building inside him and knew he couldn’t hold back much longer, no matter how much he might want to. Changing the angle of his thrusts to provoke those sharp gasps and breathy moans again, he watched Lester straining to meet him, pushing back hard, taking everything Ryan was giving, his hands fisted in the sheets now, then he stiffened and Ryan felt Lester’s body tense around him as his cock pulsed and he hit climax, coming thickly over the taut plane of his stomach. His expression was utterly open, his eyes fixed on Ryan’s face lit only by the warm glow coming from the window. Lester’s own face was softened by pleasure and Ryan knew without needing to be told that he’d just been given something he’d only dreamed about but hadn’t dared believe he could actually have.
The feeling of Lester’s body spasming helplessly around his cock and the warmth in his shadowed eyes was what Ryan had been waiting for, and he felt his own pleasure surge through him, hot and sharp. Gasping, he leaned forward again to lose himself in in a soft kiss as they rolled sideways and straightened tangled limbs, laughing and touching like two teenagers who’d just discovered there was more to sex that porno mags and biology lessons had led them to believe.
When Ryan finally disengaged long enough to dispose of the condom and clean them both up with a warm flannel, Lester looked up at him with an amused gleam in his eyes. “I don’t smoke, but a post-coital whisky would be nice.”
Ryan bent down for a kiss. “Can you stay the night?”
“If I wouldn’t be outstaying my welcome…”
“Just a shame some awkward bastard called a team meeting for 8am.”
“Early rising is a virtue.”
“I’ve never had a problem rising early in the morning.”
“Looking forward to it already,” Lester murmured.
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no subject
Date: 2020-07-03 06:12 pm (UTC)and I could east a pig with measles.
Ewwwwww! LOL
which led to a sharp rap over his knuckles with a fork followed by Ryan handing over a loaf of sliced bread and some butter so that Lester could make himself a chip butty.
Awww, that was sweet! *g*
He wouldn’t have taken Lester for a cuddler but the impression he was getting now was of a man who’d been touch starved for so bloody long, covering stark emptiness with sharp suits and an even sharper tongue.
Very perceptive!
Unlike some officers, Ryan had rapidly learnt that there was more to leading men than a loud voice.
Oh, yes, one of the things that makes him so good at his job!
in the hollow below his ear, knowledge that he promptly set about exploiting with shameless efficiency.
*g* Typical Lester - bringing his A Game to everything he does.
Aaaaannnnddd that was lovely smut. Keeping the action going but also holding onto some tenderness is a thin line, and you navigated it beautifully.
Great fic!
no subject
Date: 2020-07-03 10:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-03 07:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-03 10:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-04 07:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-04 07:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-05 12:08 am (UTC)Protective!Ryan taking care of vulnerable!Lester *purrs loudly* And will there be something rising early in the morning ;)
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Date: 2020-07-05 12:48 pm (UTC)I like Lester when he's vulnerable.
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Date: 2020-07-05 08:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-08 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-08 07:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-12 07:19 am (UTC)Guh, that was bloody gorgeous!
Imagine if any of the rest of the team knew they were shagging, haha.
Mm best boys done well x
no subject
Date: 2020-07-13 12:36 pm (UTC)We'll maybe get to see those reactions in the rest of the series...