noxnoctisanima

Title: Popping a Cherry

Fandom: Primeval

Pairing: Connor/Duncan

Rating: Hard R - NC-17

Series: Deflowering Connor Part 2

Warnings: Slash

Disclaimer: God I wish! But no.

Summary: Duncan and Connor wonder what sex is like.

A.N. I blame

barefoot_starz and

onigaminanashi, they are terrible, terrible influences, they’ve now started me on a series of Virgin!Connor fics…well there are worse things I suppose.

Connor and Duncan were alone in the apartment. It had been happening a lot lately. Tom had met a girl at a convention and hadn’t been around much. None of them had had a girlfriend before so it felt a little strange to watch Tom leave to be with her.

Tom was grinning as he opening the apartment door. He dropped to the couch, spreading his arms along the back behind Connor and Duncan. He looked smug.

“I had sex.” He announced, Duncan choked on his drink. Tom thumped him unhelpfully on the back as Connor stared at him.

“When?” Duncan asked, a little awe in his voice once he’d finished coughing.

Tom’s smile was self-satisfied as he answered. He stretched in his seat.

“This morning.” Connor and Duncan were transfixed.

“What was it like?”

Tom grinned smugly under their attention and for all his interest Connor wanted to belt him.

“It was great! You’re missing out guys.”

Tom had spoken a lot more after that, without saying much at all. He went to bed early and was gone already when they got up.

There was a touch of something uncomfortable in the apartment all day. Conversation was just a little bit strained, movement just a little bit hesitant, it was as if the proverbial elephant was sitting right in the middle of the room.

It was four hours, two episodes of Star Trek and a packet of corn chips before Duncan finally broached the subject.

“I wonder what it feels like.” Duncan said softly, almost to himself.

Connor shrugged, this was one topic he knew nothing about. He fidgeted a little and a blush crept up his cheeks.

He didn’t know how to talk about this, he just wished Duncan would drop it, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“I wonder how different it is from kissing.”

At least this was something Connor had done. It had been wet, soft, she’d smelled of cheap rose perfume and cheese twisties, he’d been fifteen and terrified. He twitched his shoulders again.

“More I guess.” He hesitated, not sure if he should say what he was thinking. “More, more like wanking probably.”

Duncan twitched and Connor kept his eyes pointedly on his face.

Duncan was quiet for a few long seconds.

“I suppose.” He sounded a strange mix of doubtful and disappointed.

The silence was even more uncomfortable then the conversation and they just sat on the couch, looking anywhere but at each other.

Then Duncan shifted, his thigh catching against the fabric of the couch before pressing against Connor’s.

This was the point where Connor can move away and he and Duncan will just laugh it off as a stupid gesture, this is where he can stop what comes next. He should move away, back off, that would be the sensible thing, but inexplicably, even to himself, he doesn’t move.

Duncan’s hand on his thigh is hesitant, but also warm, warmer then he had expected.

They turn to each other and it feels awkward to see Duncan looking so normal when they’re pressed so close together like this.

Duncan leans forward and kisses him, because it seems a good a place as any to start.

Duncan’s lips are harder then a girl’s and he pushed harder too. His cheeks are soft, no stubble and with a stray thought Connor thinks it might be better if there were some.

There’s a tongue in his mouth and it’s like he remembers, wet and fumbled.

They’ve shifted, Connor’s leg is curled underneath him so he can lean closer and his hand clutched Duncan’s shoulder for balance.

Duncan is resting on one hand, the other is clutched around Connor’s waist pulling him closer in a way he’s not entirely sure he dislikes.

Duncan has pulled them so they press together chest to chest, their mouths still locked together. Connor is unbalanced, bent so far forward that both hands are clutching Duncan’s shoulders to hold himself upright, at least that’s what he’s telling himself.

The hand on his waist stops pulling and a part of him too big for his own comfort misses its touch.

Then the hand is between them and the only thing that surprises Connor more then the feeling of a hand against his erection is that fact that he had somehow missed that fact that he had one.

Duncan’s touch is light and oh so different from his own. He tries not to buck into the lightly stroking hand, because he was right, this is so much better than wanking.

Connor shifts his own balance a little, enough so he isn’t clutching Duncan to stay upright.

He slides his hand down and then suddenly everything is so real, because that’s a dick in his hand and Duncan groans in an entirely male way and all of it goes straight to his groin.

Connor thinks he’ll be having an identity crisis in about fifteen minutes but right now Duncan is undoing his fly with one hand and still stroking his cock with the other.

Connor fumbles with Duncan’s buttons, lifting his hips as he does so that his jeans and boxers can be slipped off.

Duncan stands up to drop his pants and Connor tries not to look like he’s enjoying watching him.

When Duncan sits back down they’re thigh to thigh and they’re both a bit hesitant to touch, as if the other had suddenly changed their mind and would smack them for it.

This time Connor moves first, Duncan’s uncircumcised and he can see the skin shift around the head as he strokes his hand down the shaft.

Duncan’s face stutters and so Connor does it again, a long slow stroke. Duncan’s hips buck, pushing his cock further up into Connor’s hand, searching for more of the pressure.

God it looks so good and Connor thrusts his own hips up, pleading for Duncan to do something.

Duncan gets the idea, he spits in his palm and squeezing lightly, strokes Connor a few times experimentally.

Oh, Oh, Oh God, this is so much better skin on skin.

Connor’s not sure how he keeps his hand moving because his brain is turning to mush and his vocabulary is down to God and Please and Faster. He’s using his three words in a tumbled litany of combinations, half mumbled and gasped as what control he had cracks away.

Duncan comes first, his hips stuttering up, head back and groaning and Connor thanks every God out there that his hand keeps moving because he’s so close that if it stopped he thinks he might combust. He might just anyway.

A couple more strokes and the world goes white, leaving Connor trembling against the couch.

They slowly release each other, the afterglow having no chance of concealing the awkwardness, they turn away, not looking at each other.

They separate quickly, not speaking, scooping their pants up as they go.

Connor goes to his room to figure out how he has managed to miss the fact that he’s gay.

Duncan goes back to his room to figure out how to do it again. Soon.