deinonychus_1

Happy birthday Fred! Afraid I couldn't manage some of your more extreme kinks, but hopefully this is suitably dark and twisted for your tastes *evil grin*.

Title: Coping Strategies
Author: Athene
Fandom: Primeval
Pairing/characters: Lester/Becker
Rating: 18
Warnings: language, rough sex, dark themes
Spoilers: mild spoilers for series 4 and the web episodes.
Disclaimer: Not mine. ITV and Impossible Pictures own them.
Word count: approx 2500
Summary: Everyone needs to find a way to cope when the shit hits the fan. Set between the web episodes and the start of series 4.
AN: birthday fic for fredbassett

Lester wasn’t entirely surprised when Becker turned up on his doorstep that night. Nor was he surprised that the man was carrying a bag containing alcohol, although he was a touch disappointed by the fact that it turned out to be only mid-range quality scotch.

“Have they finished their little Spanish inquisition with you, now?” Lester inquired, as he collected a second glass and passed it to Becker.

“Maybe. They’ve told me not to leave the country in case they want to ask further questions.” Becker briefly eyed the bottle that was already on the coffee table beside Lester’s glass, and then poured himself a generous shot from his own bottle instead. He downed it in one and grimaced. “What about you?”

“Apparently they have no further lines of investigation that concern me.” Lester sat down opposite the man and took another sip from his own glass. He had started on the drink almost as soon as he had got home from the latest round of questioning concerning the ARC and its operations.

“Do you think they’re going to close the ARC down?” Becker asked. Lester noticed he was still sitting practically on the edge of the sofa, tension radiating from every muscle in his body.

Over my dead body will they close the ARC, Lester thought to himself. Out loud he said, “Close it, no. Although I suspect there may be a management restructuring of some sort or another.” He sniffed his disdain at that prospect.

“Where are you going to go next?”

Lester raised his eyebrows at that. “I don’t intend to go anywhere, Captain. They’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Becker almost cracked a smile at that. Almost.

The soldier poured himself another drink, and this time he didn’t empty the glass as soon as it touched his lips.

“I’m not sure how much longer I’ve got before the MOD reassigns me somewhere else. Unless they decide what they’re doing about the ARC soon, it’s only a matter of time before it’s out of my hands.”

Lester didn’t comment on that. If Becker was expecting heartfelt pleas to stay then he was going to be disappointed. He was a good soldier, yes, but good soldiers were ten-a-penny, and Becker’s record to date wasn’t exactly glowing.

“I’ve heard rumour they are considering using private security rather than army,” Lester commented. “No doubt another cost-cutting decision with no regard whatsoever for the practicalities of dealing with dinosaurs.”

Becker stared at his glass as he rolled it between his hands.

“Maybe it won’t even make a difference. Having fully trained army personnel doesn’t seem to have made a hell of a lot of difference to the casualty rate so far.”

“Am I right in assuming they’re placing the blame for that squarely at the feet of the commanding officer?” Lester knew the answer before he even asked the question. This wasn’t about facts, it was about Becker.

“It’s my fault we lost them. All of them.” Becker couldn’t even meet Lester’s gaze when he spoke. He just continued to stare at his drink. His voice held none of its usual command or arrogance. Hadn’t for a long time, if Lester really thought about it. Not since they had lost Sarah.

Lester’s day had been complete shit as well, and he didn’t have time for this. He decided to take the direct approach.

“What is this about Becker? What do you want? To be punished?”

Becker’s head jerked up sharply, and the look in his eyes at that question told Lester everything. Abruptly stripped of his usual stoicism, his expression held a desperation, self-loathing, and more than anything need.

Lester turned that thought over in his mind for precisely three seconds, and then came to a decision.

“You’re right. It was your fault. We lost several bloody good people because of you. You failed, Captain. You deserve to be punished.”

For a moment Becker just stared at him, his eyes wide. Then he gave the tiniest nod.

“Strip.”

Becker hesitated, his expression still incredulous.

“Did you hear me, Captain? I gave you an order. Are you going to fail in that, like you failed when I ordered you to protect the team?”

For a second Lester thought that Becker was going to get up and walk out. Truth be told he had only a vague idea of what he was even trying to do here, but as the idea unfolded in his mind Lester knew he had to go through with it, for both of them.

Becker began to unbutton his shirt. Once it was folded with military precision and placed next to him on the sofa, he glanced up at Lester. Lester continued to stare at him without a word until his t-shirt followed the same way. Lester watched as Becker slowly, carefully, removed every item of clothing until he was down to just his boxer shorts. At that point he glanced up again, a question in his eyes. A question, and a plea.

Lester merely raised his eyebrows in an expression that quite clearly conveyed the fact that he was waiting. And that he was unimpressed.

Becker removed his shorts and stood before him, stripped bare in every way.

“Go to the bedroom. Second door on the left down that corridor. Wait for me there.”

This time there was no hesitation, and Becker simply nodded and did as he was told.

As soon as he was out of the room Lester took a great mouthful of scotch and breathed deeply. Fuck. What the fuck was he doing? Was this actually going to achieve anything?

The last few weeks had been hell for both of them, and Lester had watched quietly as Becker’s facade had slipped a little more each day. Of course, he hadn’t commented on it. Even if he was the type of boss to get all touchy feely (which he most certainly wasn’t) he’d had enough of his own problems to deal with as the chorus of voices calling for him to be stripped of power grew louder with each new report. While Becker was busy self-flagellating, Lester had been talking, manoeuvring, pulling in favours, manipulating, and ever more desperately scrabbling to hold onto control, and despite his bravado earlier he was still uncertain whether it was going to be enough to keep his position.

Lester contemplated what he was about to do, and knew it was not going to be entirely for Becker’s benefit.

He downed the rest of his drink, then got up and walked slowly to his bedroom. Becker was standing by the bed, and when Lester appeared in the doorway his gaze flickered up. For a second Lester struggled to find the word to describe the look in the soldier’s eyes, because it was not something he ever expected to see there. Vulnerable.

Good. That was exactly how he wanted him.

“Lie face down on the bed.”

Becker obeyed without question or hesitation. Like a good little soldier boy. Lester took a moment to fully appreciate the body laid out before him, the tension in his muscles, the broad shoulders, his sheer size. If this went wrong, Lester knew Becker was capable of killing him in an instant. Or at the very least breaking several bones. He briefly contemplated that fact for a moment before he began to slowly remove his own clothes, deliberately taking his time and making Becker wait in silence. One thing was for certain, though – the sight of that well-defined body had sent Lester’s blood rushing to his cock. That, at least, wasn’t going to be an issue.

Eventually Lester walked round the bed until he was standing over Becker.

“Reach up and hold the bedposts.” His voice was cold, dispassionate, and he thought for a second he saw Becker flinch before he shifted into the required position.

“On your knees.”

It was vaguely satisfying how quickly he obeyed that command. Somehow Lester wasn’t surprised in the slightest.

Without further preamble Lester got onto the bed, pushed Becker’s legs further apart with more force than was strictly necessary, and without preparation or warning he shoved his cock into Becker. He heard a hiss, and Becker pulled away from him a fraction. Lester gripped his hips and pulled him back again.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? To hurt. To be punished. Aren’t you even man enough to take it now that I’m giving you what you want?” Lester sneered.

Becker’s body became utterly still beneath him.

“Well?”

“Yes.” Becker’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“What was that?” Lester said in the most scathing voice he was capable of in the current situation.

“Yes, sir.” Louder this time. That was better.

Lester waited long enough that was sure Becker would be questioning what was actually going to happen. Then he gripped Becker’s hips and pushed until his cock was fully sheathed in the tight body beneath him. Becker gasped once, and that was it. Lester could feel Becker struggling to relax around him, to make this easier for himself, and this time Lester waited until he was sure Becker was as relaxed as he was likely to get. This was supposed to hurt, yes, but he had no intention of actually seriously damaging the man.

Then, Lester pulled nearly all the way out, feeling the drag and burn of unlubricated penetration. He knew this was going to hurt Becker a lot more than him. That was, after all, the point. Then he slammed back in hard. This time Becker didn’t even gasp, but Lester saw the way the muscles in his shoulders flexed, the tendons in his arms showing as he gripped the bedposts tighter.

Lester repeated this twice more, watching as Becker struggled to keep still, to balance the tension in his arms and body against the need to relax. Lester suddenly became aware on the fourth thrust that something was beginning to slick his movements. He tried not to think about what that something might be. At the same time, he noticed a change in the sudden stifled gasp from the man beneath him. It took Lester a moment to realise what it was, and then he reached round and ran his fingers along Becker’s erection. This time Becker’s moan was clearly audible. Lester squeezed once, too hard, and then let go.

“What makes you think I’m going to give you any pleasure? You don’t deserve it.”

Becker nodded, his arms straining, his knuckles turning white.

“You don’t deserve the title of captain. Your predecessor, he was a captain. He knew how to protect his charges. He gave his life saving Cutter. He was a hundred times the soldier that you’ll ever be. You, on the other hand, have let not one but two civilians die, and lost three others.”

Becker choked back a sob. Lester thrust hard into him again.

“Do you think this is going to make up for it? Do you think this is even a fraction of the pain they suffered because you failed?”

“I’m sorry,” Becker whispered.

“I’m not interested in your apologies, Captain,” Lester placed as much disdain as was physically possible into the title. This time Becker remained silent.

Lester could feel himself getting close as he pulled out again, pausing just long enough to let Becker start to relax before he thrust in yet again.

“You failed, Becker.”

He suddenly realised Becker was trembling beneath him, his entire body shaking, every muscle and sinew straining to remain motionless and accept his punishment. Abruptly Lester came hard, thrusting again and again as he emptied himself. This was what he had been missing. This was what those bastards were trying to take from him. This was what he wanted, needed, more than anything else. Control.

Lester reached round and gripped Becker’s cock. He squeezed hard, and twisted as he dragged his hand along the length. Becker bucked once and released with a noise like a wounded animal.

Lester waited for Becker’s violent trembling to subside before he pulled out as carefully as he could. He stood up and took a handful of tissues from the box on his bedside table and cleaned himself up, noting that there was only a small smear of red on his cock. Not as bad as he’d feared, at least. Somehow Becker was still maintaining the position Lester had ordered him into, and Lester was almost surprised at his resilience. Lester tossed the box of tissues onto the bed next to him.

“Clean yourself up. And I suggest you go and take a shower as well.”

Becker carefully lowered himself onto his side and then slid off the bed awkwardly and headed for the bathroom with the tissues. Lester put on his dressing gown and followed him, and took the antiseptic wipes out of the cupboard and left them obviously out on the sink.

Lester quickly changed the sheets on the bed, listening to the sounds of the shower across the corridor. Once he was done he went to stand outside the bathroom door. It took a moment to realise what he was hearing, but after a moment it became obvious. Becker was sobbing. Lester sighed, and waited in the corridor until the sound of the shower eventually stopped. A few minutes later Becker emerged, still damp. He looked into Lester’s eyes for a second, and then his gaze dropped to the floor.

“No lasting damage, I assume?”

Becker shook his head.

“Good. The bedroom is that way. I suggest you go to it and stop making my corridor look untidy.”

Becker glanced up again, surprise evident in his expression.

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

As soon as he was gone Lester used the bathroom himself, taking a very quick shower and relieving himself before bed. He was cautiously optimistic that his gamble had paid off. At the very least, Becker hadn’t attempted to kill him during or afterwards.

He went back into the bedroom and found Becker lying on his side. He didn’t look particularly comfortable, unsurprisingly, but Lester noted the fact that the tension had almost completely vanished from his demeanour. Becker looked up and watched, his expression one of almost reverence as Lester slipped out of his dressing gown and got into bed beside him.

“Thank you,” Becker said in a quiet voice.

Lester glanced sideways and saw the genuine gratitude in Becker’s eyes. Interesting. He merely nodded in response.

“If they do get private security, I’ll resign my commission. I’ll stay here, fight for the ARC with you. I won’t fail again.”

Lester nodded again. Apparently this had worked out even better than he had hoped. Not only had they discovered a mutually beneficial way of dealing with their needs, but he also now appeared to have a devoted ally with everything to lose if this arrangement ever became known.

Excellent.