Early Happy Birthday to basched.
Title: The Perfect Partner
Pairing/characters: Becker/Matt, Becker/Mossberg
Warnings: Smut, gun!porn
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 373
Summary: It truly was a thing of beauty
AN: Birthday fic for basched.
Perfection. Absolute perfection.
Becker put down the gun oil and cleaning rag and cradled his Mossberg in his lap. Even though it had no properly reflective surfaces, it seemed to shine where it caught the light. Every moving mechanical part had been oiled to within an inch of its life, and had been checked and double checked.
It truly was a thing of beauty.
Becker smiled and ran his hand along the length of the weapon and felt a swell of affection for his favourite weapon. And that wasn’t the only thing that was swelling.
He glanced around the deserted armoury, and then opened the button and zip of his trousers, and slipped his hand down into his shorts.
Oh, god, yes.
Becker closed his eyes and let his head fall backwards. He tugged the shotgun up so that it was rested against his chest, and continued to stroke his fingers up and down its length as his other hand did the same with his cock.
He knew every part of his gun by touch alone. He knew how to control, and how to unleash its awesome power with the slightest caress of his finger. He knew the shapes and curves of his gun better than he knew the contours of his lover’s body.
The hard, unyielding metal of the long barrel contrasted with the soft warmth of his cock. Becker moaned quietly, and rubbed his cheek against the tip of the shotgun.
He was close, so close. He tightened his grip on the gun and-
The images scattered and he pried his eyes open to see Matt lying next to him, propped up on one elbow, smirking down at him.
“Morning,” Matt said. He glanced down at the rather obvious bulge under the duvet, and smirked again.
Becker whimpered quietly, and hoped he hadn’t said anything out loud in his sleep.
“Must have been a hell of a dream,” Matt commented. He slid his hand under the duvet and teased Becker’s cock. He leaned down and asked in an altogether too smug tone, “Was it about me?”
Becker closed his eyes, because there was no way he could look Matt in the eye right then.
“Yeah. Must have been.”