This is a particularly late birthday fic for munchkinofdoom, although, worryingly enough, not as late as last year's birthday fic was!
Title: My Hero
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 1700
Summary: The boys have a quiet morning in after Ryan is injured in the line of duty.
AN: Very, very late birthday fic for the lovely munchkinofdoom. Sorry it’s so late, the damned bunnies have been particularly uncooperative the last few months.
Days when Ryan could wake slowly, allow himself the luxury of drifting in the half-conscious state while his mind wandered and his body relaxed into the warm bed were rare, and he had no intention of spoiling this one any time soon. Still not really thinking about what he was doing, he snuggled deeper into the pillow a little, and then breathed deeply. There was a sharp pain in his back and the breath caught before it was complete. He winced and let the air out slowly, only now remembering why he was lying on his stomach.
“Ryan? You okay?”
Connor’s voice was quiet and tentative, and Ryan opened his eyes and turned his head, while keeping the rest of his body as still as possible. His young lover was clearly already awake, and had been for a while by the look of it. Connor was lying on his side, propped on one elbow, and watching Ryan with an expression that suggested his brain was already working overtime on multiple different things, not all of which involved breakfast or sex if the worry in his eyes was anything to go by.
“Bit stiff and achy,” Ryan admitted. “But it’s fine.”
Connor’s eyebrows suggested he was more than a little sceptical at that assessment.
“You got whacked by a hadrosaur’s tail and thrown twenty feet into a tree. And your shoulder is all...” he waved his hand in a vague gesture. “Black. And red. And purple. That’s not a good colour for human skin.”
“I’ve had worse.”
“That really doesn’t make me feel better,” Connor pointed out.
Ryan chuckled. “Since I’m the one who’s hurt shouldn’t you be the one making me feel better?”
Connor leaned down and pressed a kiss to Ryan’s eyebrow, which appeared to be the only part of Ryan’s face he could get at because of the awkward angle. Before Ryan could start to move to rectify that, Connor had already shuffled back, and his hand tentatively reached out and traced along the contour of Ryan’s uninjured shoulder.
“I don’t like it when you get hurt,” Connor said quietly, his eyes not meeting Ryan’s.
“Comes with the job,” Ryan replied. They’d had similar conversations in the past, and Ryan intended to head this one off before it got started. Connor’s worry was sweet, but it was also entirely incompatible with the necessities of his job. It was one of the perils of a relationship with a civilian, even a civilian who knew exactly what the current posting entailed.
Connor’s fingers continued to meander on Ryan’s back, feather-light touches that made Ryan close his eyes and begin to drift again. It took him a few moments to realise when the soft touch hesitated in a particular place, and traced a line that Ryan had all but forgotten.
“How did you get this one?” Connor asked in that same quiet voice, but this time there was more genuine interest than there was worry.
“Shrapnel from an explosion. It was in Iraq.”
Connor’s fingers continued to play along the white line of the scar, and when Ryan cracked an eye open he saw that the young man’s expression now reflected curiosity and fascination rather than fear. Connor had never asked about Ryan’s career before he joined the Anomaly Project, and Ryan had never volunteered any details. He was still trying to decide how much he was willing to share if Connor decided to probe further, when Connor’s fingers began to explore again.
“What about this one?”
Ryan frowned slightly. He couldn’t even remember having a scar on that side of his ribs.
Abruptly Connor snatched his hand away.
“Sorry. Am I..? Was that..? Should I shut up about it?”
“Hey.” Ryan reached out and caught hold of Connor’s hand. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”
“Yes, really.” He pressed a quick kiss to Connor’s knuckles and then let go of him. “I think that one was from barbed wire on a training exercise, but it was so long ago I’m surprised there’s even still much of a mark there.”
After a pause, he felt Connor’s fingers recommence their exploration of his body. It was quite a pleasant sensation, so Ryan closed his eyes again and relaxed. It was Sunday, he was almost certainly going to give his normal morning run a miss given the state of his shoulder, so lying right here and letting Connor fuss over him seemed like a plan with few obvious drawbacks.
After a while, Connor settled on another scar, this time on Ryan’s shoulder (the uninjured one, Connor at least had the sense to stay well clear of the other one).
Ryan cracked an eye open to look at the young man, who was staring intently at the ragged white lines that ran across his shoulder blades. Unlike the others, this one wasn’t caused by an explosion, or a man-made weapon; this was the work of a prehistoric creature. Ryan still remembered the nightmare moments when he had seen the raptor going for Connor. In a split second decision he had leapt in the way, grabbed Connor and spun them both around, shielding Connor’s body with his own when the raptor pounced. It was only a couple of well placed shots by one of his men that had saved him from something much worse than simply a raked shoulder, and they all knew it. Although, it hadn’t been entirely bad, he reflected, since that incident had been the catalyst that pushed both of them into admitting their feelings for each other. At least, they had once Connor had come down from the shock and adrenaline of the situation.
“I know what this one is,” Connor said quietly, almost reverentially. “This is you being a hero.”
He carefully leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss against Ryan’s shoulder.
“My hero,” Connor added.
“Soppy bugger,” Ryan said affectionately.
“So,” Connor said after a while, “What can I do to make the war-wounded hero feel better?”
Ryan took one look at Connor’s expression and knew exactly what he had in mind.
“Connor, that has got to be the worst excuse you’ve ever used to get your end away! Besides, you may have noticed you don’t normally need an excuse.”
Connor’s cheeky grin made Ryan roll his eyes.
“Well, I didn’t think you’d say no, but I thought I’d better check, just in case you weren’t feeling up to it.”
“Not up to it?” Ryan spluttered, outraged, until he saw the mischievous smile in Connor’s eyes. “Oh, you are in so much trouble when I can be bothered to move.”
“I’ll look forward to it,” Connor said, still smirking. “But right now I think you should just let me look after you for a while.”
His fingers started to play across Ryan’s back again, this time slipping lower until he was caressing Ryan’s arse in a thoroughly distracting manner. Ryan shuffled slightly so that his legs were parted a little wider, and Connor apparently needed no further incentive and moments later had bounced into a position straddling Ryan’s hips and was kissing his way down Ryan’s spine, pausing occasionally to nuzzle.
Ryan closed his eyes and let himself relax, although certain parts of his anatomy were rapidly becoming anything but relaxed as a result of Connor’s attention. There was a brief pause and he felt the bed dip as Connor leaned over him to get the usual supplies from the bedside drawer, and moments later a slicked finger began to tease and caress at Ryan’s arse. He squirmed, carefully, to encourage Connor to hurry it up, but apparently his lover seemed intent on taking his time this morning, and no amount of grumbling was going to make him rush it. Ryan was hard and on the verge of some decidedly unmanly and unheroic whining when Connor finally slipped an arm under Ryan’s waist and tugged his hips up a little to get a better angle. Then he pressed his cock against Ryan and very slowly pushed in. Ryan groaned his lover’s name, desperate for more, faster, harder, and at the same time wanting to enjoy this for as long as possible. For once, though, Connor seemed entirely unaffected by Ryan’s responses, and continued at his own slow, teasing pace, dragging out the sensations until Ryan was all but begging.
Connor’s arm, still supporting Ryan’s raised hips, shifted and Ryan felt Connor’s hand close around his cock. He thrust into Connor’s grip at the same moment that Connor found his prostate and Ryan let go, pulsing hard across Connor’s hand and the bed sheet beneath him. That was enough to drag Connor over the edge as well, and he burrowed his face into Ryan’s neck as he rode through his orgasm.
Somehow, and Ryan had no idea how his normally uncoordinated lover managed it, Connor was able to keep himself supported on one arm long enough to pull out before he collapsed to one side, instead of landing in an ungainly (and probably painful) heap on Ryan’s back. It was a while before either of them moved again, and Ryan was content to lie there while Connor absently recommenced his tactile exploration of Ryan’s body.
“Nice as this is, I think a shower might be in order,” Ryan eventually pointed out.
Connor nodded. “Yep. If you let me go first I can make breakfast for you while you’re in the shower.”
Ryan raised his eyebrows. “I get breakfast made as well? I should be injured more often.”
Connor glared at him. “No you shouldn’t!”
Ryan chuckled until Connor couldn’t help himself and smiled back. After a moment, Connor reluctantly sat up and dragged himself out of bed, and Ryan took the opportunity to roll over into Connor’s vacated spot so he wasn’t lying in a wet patch. Connor pulled on Ryan’s dressing gown, and then paused in the doorway.
“So, what do you fancy for breakfast, anyway? I was thinking bacon, eggs, toast, beans, and I’ll see if there’s any mushrooms left.”
Ryan couldn’t help himself, and gave Connor a particularly beatific smile.