I found there is absolutely no Riker/Wesley fic's anywhere, so I decided to write one. It was inspired by another fic I found and I thought It would fit almost perfectly with these boys. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. p.s I made ''sarah' up so don't bother asking who she is.

It takes Riker three seconds to make his move after Beverly has Left the shuttle and turned walked on to find the Captain. Shuffling to the center of the back seat, he wriggles a shoulder and about half of his upper body into the gap between the front seats and leans in. It has to be a rather uncomfortable position, bent at the waist, butt in the air and balance quite precarious, but it does bring him closer, and Wesley couldn't help enjoying the contact. Next thing he knows, a hand is cupping his jaw to firmly tilt his head, and a mouth is crashing on his.

Wesley feels his stomach twist because he knows why Riker took the initiative this time around. There are grumbles about how wrong what they've been doing for weeks is, murmurs about Deanna and Sarah, gasps about Beverly coming back any second and ruining heir friendship if she ever finds out that Riker has been sleeping with her son.

What there is not, is condolences, questions about how Wesley's feeling or words of comfort, though. This is comfort. This is why Riker started it.

Well, comfort, and... "I've missed this so much, baby."

Wesley chuckles. "We were doing exactly this a few days ago and it's not like we haven't had other things to focus on in the meantime."

"What do you want me to say, it's addictive."

It is. The emotional and physical closeness, the simplicity, the absence of shame, the light. Kissing Sarah in the infirmary left him riddled with remorse, the women and occasional men he had in his life... never were in his life, just passed by, because he closed himself to them. Riker may feel guilty for what's been going on – Wesley doesn't.

He drags Riker back to him.

The kiss is sloppy because Riker profusely, nervously licked his lips before starting it, but it remains superficial and gentle – just closed, wet lips pressed against Wesley's dry and slightly chapped ones. It's Wesley who opens up, Wesley who darts out his tongue and seeks Riker's, Wesley who keenly shifts in his seat to get and offer better access. Things heat up then, and they reach a whole new notch when Wesley tips his head back. While he lets Riker lap at his lips and tongue into his mouth, he busies himself with slipping a hand under the t-shirt of the other man. Fingers creep up on skin moist with sweat, smooth and golden; they graze a nipple, pinching and soothing it alternately, before skimming down over strained muscles as far as Wesley can reach. It's answered with a sharp intake of air. Pleased with this reaction, Wesley pushes his advantage, whispering right against Riker's lips about stroking, sucking, swallowing and, with a wicked smile, bending over the hood. Riker's teeth are suddenly digging into his lower lip in retaliation. They worry it viciously and Wesley groans his satisfaction – he revels in the rough nipping, in the strangled moan that Riker spills into his mouth, in the way Riker surrenders and pleads, "Wesley! We can't do this! Not now."

"You started it," he replies, all taunting smile and teasing fingers.

"And if your Mother or Picard finds out, I won't ever have the chance or, you know, the equipment to finish it."

This brings back untimely desires and memories about Sarah, but Riker is here and getting under his skin in this easy, peaceful way that he noticed too late to do anything about. The retort, the constant concern amuses him, too, because Will really has no idea... "Don't worry about my Mom," he says.

He kisses him again, quick and so dirty that Riker gasps either in shock or excitation, possibly both, and whispers ''We'll continue this later,'' in his ear before disentangling the embrace to push him back in his seat.

It took Riker three seconds to make his move when Beverly left the Shuttle; it takes him less than one to retreat when Beverly and the Captain return.

They groped and kissed and teased – Wesley dirty-talked to him, Riker would say – for five minutes.

It takes Wesley about an hour to calm down his arousal. An hour and, because he keeps shifting in his seat trying desperately to hide the bulge in his uniform pants.