Another one from the ficlet prompts (and the damned things are *definitely* getting longer!). I am working through them, and I'll write them all eventually, honest. Anyway, this one's for fredbassett , and turned out rather more angsty than I'd originally been aiming for...
Title: Not Okay
Word count: 440
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
AN: written for fredbassett with the prompt ‘against the wall’.
Connor had been quiet all the way home. Quiet, and radiating an uncharacteristic tension.
Ryan didn’t comment. He had enough going on in his head after spending the best part of 48 hours stuck on the wrong side of an intermittently opening and closing anomaly. 48 hours of constant tension and fear and practically no sleep until it reopened and he stumbled back through and into Connor’s arms. His mind was focussed on the achievable goals of a shower and sleep, not necessarily in that order. Anything else could wait until later.
His flat door was barely closed when Connor abruptly shoved him against the wall and held him there while he stole a desperate, needy kiss. When Connor finally stopped he let his head drop to rest on Ryan’s shoulder, and murmured something that Ryan couldn’t hear properly.
“Connor?” he asked quietly.
Connor’s hands slipped around Ryan’s waist and started untucking his t-shirt and caressing the skin beneath.
“Connor? It’s okay. I’m back.”
“It’s not okay,” Connor whispered without looking up. His voice was thick with emotion that Ryan couldn’t even begin to interpret. But when he tried to lift Connor’s face to see what was going on in those dark eyes that usually told everything that his clever mind couldn’t put into words, Connor pulled away.
Without warning, Connor dropped to his knees and ripped Ryan’s jeans open with an anger and savagery that took Ryan by surprise. He knew he ought to stop this, to find out what the hell was going on in Connor’s mind. But then Connor took Ryan’s cock in his mouth and Ryan let his head roll back against the wall behind him and let the sensations carry away all the fear and uncertainty of the last two days. There was none of Connor’s normal hesitancy or gentleness. This was hard, fast, and even more desperate than the kiss had been, and Ryan was coming hard into Connor’s mouth within moments.
Connor still wasn’t looking at him, but after a moment he rested his forehead against Ryan’s hip, still on his knees. Ryan tentatively reached a hand out and started to stroke Connor’s hair.
“I thought you’d died,” Connor said, the unmistakeable hitch of a sob in his voice. “I thought you weren’t coming back.”
Ryan continued to stroke him, his throat tightening.
“I came back, Connor. I’m here,” he said, trying to sound reassuring.
He watched Connor’s back and shoulders move as he breathed slowly and deeply for a moment.
“Don’t do that to me again, Ryan.”
Ryan continued to stroke Connor’s hair, and wished he had the reply that Connor wanted to hear.