Happy birthday mysteriousaliwz Hope you're having a lovely day.
Title: Rude Awakening
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 850
Summary: Connor is not a morning person.
AN: Written as a birthday fic for mysteriousaliwz. As has become something of a tradition, I felt your birthday required some wet Connor/Ryan fic.
Ryan stretched his arm out and switched off the alarm clock before it even started to beep. He could hear the persistent patter of rain on the window, but that didn’t change his plans in the slightest.
He turned back to the bed and snuggled up close behind Connor, slipping an arm around him and gently nuzzling his lover’s shoulder.
“Connor?” he asked quietly.
Ryan chuckled, and placed a soft kiss on the spot his had just been nuzzling.
“I’m going to go for a run. Do you want to come?”
Connor finally turned over and opened his eyes enough to give Ryan an ‘are you kidding?’ look.
“Take a wild guess.”
“A bit of fresh air would do you good,” Ryan smirked.
“Another hour of sleep would do me more good,” Connor said, beginning to look slightly grumpy now that the sleep-befuddled adorableness was starting to fade.
“Just thought I’d ask. I live in hope that one day you’ll surprise me and say yes,” Ryan grinned.
He jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed, only half listening to Connor’s grumblings as he turned over and curled up, gathering the duvet even closer around himself until the only thing that Ryan could see was a tuft of dark hair.
When he opened the front door, Ryan realised the rain was actually worse than it had sounded. It was pouring down, and the entire world had that look of being eternally damp and grey that only ever appears after several days of non-stop rain.
Nevertheless, he was a big tough soldier, and he’d been out training in far worse than this, so Ryan set off into the downpour for his usual morning three mile run.
He was about halfway round his route when Ryan began to have second thoughts. He was completely drenched. His clothes were sticking to him, water was running freely down the back of his neck, and the entire lower half of his jogging pants were utterly soaked and caked in mud after a few too many puddles too large to avoid. Still, he kept reminding himself he had been out in far worse. The problem was that his mind kept wandering back to the image of Connor, all curled up and warm and cuddly in bed. There were other way to get some exercise, his brain helpfully reminded him. And it was Saturday, and they both had the day off together.
His foot landed in yet another deep puddle and cold water splashed right up his legs and into his trainers again.
Oh, sod it.
Ryan veered off in a direction that would cut a large chunk out of the route and take him home the quickest way possible. He suspected that later he would feel guilty enough to end up spending the afternoon in the gym to make up for it, but right then he just wanted to get home and dry and warm.
The bedroom was still dark when Ryan opened the door, and he crept quietly into the room. Connor was still a curled up lump under the duvet, and didn’t even appear to twitch when Ryan came in.
Ryan stripped off his clothes, grimacing slightly at the way his socks squelched when he peeled them off. Connor still hadn’t moved.
Ryan felt a particularly evil grin forming.
Moving with the stealth and silence learned from a hundred covert ops, Ryan slipped back into bed and sneaked to within millimetres of his lover. Then he pounced.
Connor shrieked and flailed so hard he fell out of the bed, dragging most of the duvet with him.
Ryan laughed out loud, and leaned over the edge of the bed to see Connor’s face emerging from the tangled duvet.
“What are you doing down there?” Ryan asked, with the best innocent expression he could muster.
Connor just glared at him, and gathered the duvet even tighter around himself.
“I hate you.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s a gratuitous lie,” Ryan chuckled.
“You’d be surprised,” Connor mumbled, starting to pout.
Two could play at that game.
“But... I was all cold and wet and you wouldn’t want me to die of hypothermia, would you?” Ryan let his bottom lip show just a little.
Connor rolled his eyes.
“You do realise that when you attempt to do the puppy eyes it just looks ridiculous?”
Ryan pouted even more, just because he could, and because he could see Connor was trying not to laugh.
“Fine. Go. Shower,” Connor sighed. “I’ll be there in a minute. And if your hands come anywhere near me before they’re suitably warm, I’m going to withhold sex for the rest of the day.”
Ryan smirked, and leaned over the edge of the bed to press a damp kiss onto Connor’s head, at the same time showering him with a sprinkling of rainwater that still clung to his hair.
Connor was still squealing in outrage as Ryan escaped to the bathroom.
Next time he might know better than just to specify Ryan’s hands. Although really, Ryan rather hoped he wouldn’t.