Hiya peeps!

So I saw this movie, and instantly knew it needed to be written about :P And then I looked it up and was shocked and appalled to find that there was hardly anything written about these two! So naturally, I had to do something about that XD.

Disclaimer: Not mine, never has been, never will be. But Sam does belong to my country, and I'm damn proud of that fact! XDDD

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With a movement that was far from shaky, Marcus lifted the glass easily, and downed the contents in one swallow. Flipping the shot-glass elegantly in his fingers he placed it upside-down on the table, and turned his piercing blue eyes on his companion.

Connor watched him a little blearily, before picking up his next shot, and downing it slowly. Placing his glass back on the table he gasped and shook his head violently, before returning his stare to the cyborg across from him.

Marcus grinned, "You're looking a little worse for wear there Connor" he stated quietly as he downed his next shot smoothly.

Connor's next shot was downed with equal grace, as the man gritted his teeth in grim defiance, "Not so Wright, I'm only just getting started."

The crowd around them laughed and cheered as Marcus raised an eyebrow questioningly, "I see."

The next two rounds were drunk in silence, though Connor's focus seemed to be blurring strongly, despite his fervent denials.

"Stupid cyborg...if you were human I could drink you under the table!" Connor eventually gasped out, his last shot-glass not even making it back to the table, as he simply threw it over his shoulder.

Marcus snickered quietly, "being half metal has nothing to do with it Connor, I was a career criminal before I died...my stomach was already made of steel."

Connor snorted in a way that could most definitely not be described as 'sober', and grinned insanely at the other man, "Wha'ever you say Wright."

Marcus shook his head, downing his next shot with ease. He was far from unaffected, but also a long way from blind drunk, unlike his companion.

Connor looked down at the table, the next glass of home-made staring him back in the face. Grimly, he went to pick it up, and completely missed. Trying again, his fingers thankfully landed around the shot, and he lifted it to his lips.

Once the shot had passed his lips he gasped, his eyes flying wide. No sooner had he thought 'oh crap' than he was out like a light, face smacking down into the table in grim understanding of a loss colourfully decorated with unconsciousness.

Marcus snickered and stood shakily, before roaring out his triumph in a bellow that had the crowd around them shouting and screaming with him. A young woman slid up to his side, her slim arm wrapping around his waist, "Hey there champ, wanna celebrate with me?"

He smiled at her, albeit a little drunkenly, and shook his head, "thanks for the offer, but I better get our booze-sodden leader back to bed."

Moving around to the other man, he lifted John Connor easily into his arms, then, thinking better of it, threw him unceremoniously over his shoulder, and pushed his way through the crowd. The picture of the two men most definitely did not go unnoticed, and the room full of drunken dancers quickly filled with murmurs of Marcus' win over their leader, and snickers or bursts of outright laughter.

Marcus made his way down the halls with an almost perfectly steady gait, and dropped the drunken man unceremoniously on his large bed. Connor groaned quietly, before blinking his eyes open and staring at the other man, "Wright?"

Marcus turned back to the man on the bed, having already started to make his way back to the door, "Yes Connor?"

"Why you no drunk?" no sooner had the words left the man's mouth than he attempted to look at his own lips with a puzzled expression, no doubt wondering how it was that his sentences were coming out so unintelligibly.

Marcus grinned, "Like I said earlier Connor, even as a human I could drink you under the table..."

Connor groaned and fell back against the bed, before whining tiredly to Marcus, "C'mere."

Marcus quirked an eyebrow before moving closer to the bed, his eyebrow rising yet further as the man reached out and caught his wrist, attempting to pull him down to the bed. "It's cold...come sleep."

Marcus yielded quietly to the insistent tugging, unsure why, though he thought it most likely due to the considerable amount of alcohol pumping through his system, and led stiffly beside the other.

Moaning happily Connor rolled onto his side, pulling the wrist he still held captive with him, effectively rolling Marcus so that he was curled against his back, one arm wrapped around his waist. Sighing happily, Connor snuggled back into the warmth of the other's body, and drifted off to sleep.

As disturbed as Marcus was to be in this situation, he found it oddly comfortable, and his alcohol addled brain couldn't provide him with a good enough reason to move. Groaning tiredly he pulled the other man close, before drifting into the same, deep sleep.

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Connor woke slowly the next day, blissfully warm and content though with a pounding headache. Groggily he willed himself to move away from whatever that mysterious and oh-so-comfortable warmth was, but found that his way was barred by an almost irresistible force around his waist.

Flailing forward with all four limbs seemed like a good idea, but he still found himself held firmly in place by whatever the hell that gentle warmth was. Sighing, he fell back into it tiredly, and simply led in quiet contentment for a while longer... until the warmth shifted. That drew his eyebrows close; he hadn't slept in the same bed with another person for months. Instantly curious, he rolled over within the tight confines of what he now realised was an arm, and gasped.

Eyes blowing wide John Connor attempted to scramble back and away from what could only be described as Marcus-frigging-Wright!

The compact man groaned tiredly; the frantic movements of the other man bringing him closer to wakefulness, before sleepily tugging the curious source of warmth close again; a move that provoked a most unmanly squeak from the resistance leader's lips, before he was crushed to a decidedly naked chest.

Wait...what?

Connor gasped and pressed a palm flat against the well-muscled chest, intending to use it to push himself away from the other man, though he soon came to the understanding that a sleeping Marcus Wright was not a being to be trifled with.

The other groaned at the strong press against his chest, and the force that seemed to be pushing against his arm, and blinked his eyes open tiredly. They were hardly open before a frantically pushing hand slid over his left nipple, and had them fluttering closed again.

"Wright, will you let the fuck go?" Connor gasped out, his brain finally succumbing to the freak-out it logically should have been having from the start.

Marcus' eyes blinked open once more, and he looked the other over groggily, 'What?'

Connor motioned frantically to the arm that was still keeping him firmly in place around what he now noticed was his equally naked midriff. His panic spiked a little higher; this could not be happening!

Marcus looked at his arm for a moment, before lifting it and rolling onto his back, putting some much needed space between them. "Not my fault you wanted to cuddle after", he mumbled thickly as his eyes slid shut again, his body and mind both crying out for just a little more sleep.

Connor's eyes blew wide; oh no, oh god no, it couldn't be true!

Standing quickly he managed to gasp out a 'shit' before he toppled right back down to the floor. His head spun and his stomach heaved, and with a huge effort he managed to drag himself to his feet once more, stumbling into his small bathroom just in time to empty the content of his stomach in painful heaves.

When he was finished he stood shakily, wiping his face with a wet rag he let the cool water sooth his headache for a moment, then brushed his teeth, before moving quietly back into the other room, overall feeling noticeably better.

Marcus was still led in the same place, body relaxed and undoubtedly comfortable.

Connor simply stared at him, certain that if his brain were a creature, it would currently be a monkey going absolutely ape-shit inside the cage of his skull. This could not be happening.

"Stop staring, you're creeping me out."

The low voice broke him out of his reverie as he startled violently, before his eyes slid up from the quietly rising and falling chest, to meet the man's now open eyes.

Connor's mouth gaped like a fish for a moment, before he finally managed to get out, "What...what happened last night?"

Marcus frowned, rolling onto his side to get more comfortable he shrugged, "You challenged me, I trounced your ass publically, and when I brought you back here you wouldn't let me leave. What more is there to say?"

If possible, Connor's eyes grew even wider. After a moment he managed to get out, "Where...where are our shirts?"

Marcus groaned, cracking his eyes open again, "Back in the mess hall, remember? The women told us we wouldn't get any more drinks until we took them off..."

Connor groaned and massaged his temples gently with his fingers, "No, I don't remember, I don't remember anything about last night..."

Marcus frowned, "Of course you don't, that would mean having to face what happened...but you're not a big enough man for that, are you Connor?" he ground out.

Connor pressed his face into his hands in horror; he couldn't believe this, he just couldn't! With a deep sigh he managed to meet the other man's eyes again, before asking, "We...we didn't, did we?"

Marcus looked at him questioningly, "We didn't what?"

Connor groaned and shook his head, "You know!"

Marcus continued to look at him with a frown, until his face slowly melted into a visage of understanding, before he burst into laughter.

Connor glared at the man before him, "This is not funny!"

Marcus sat up slowly, clutching his sides from the laughter as he managed to fight it down, "Oh god Connor, you're a riot! What makes you think we did anything last night?"

Connor waved vaguely between the two of them, "We're not wearing shirts, and I don't remember a thing." He said quietly, before something sparked in his eyes and he pointed at the other accusingly, "And you're in my bed! You were holding me!"

Marcus grinned, "That was all your doing; you wouldn't let me leave, pulled me down next to you and then curled me over you. My only part in it was being too drunk to stop you."

The other man blushed deeply, mumbling something under his breath.

Marcus sighed, before grinning again, "Why though, would us sleeping together be the first thing that popped into your mind...Connor?"

The resistance leader glared down at him, "I don't know! It seemed like the only feasible option!"

Marcus laughed, "Oh really? So you didn't think maybe I just fell asleep after you forced me to stay? Or that maybe you were so drunk that you fell asleep in my room? Or that perhaps we'd both been dragged here after passing out in the mess?"

The cyborg quirked an eyebrow, "Instead of any of those options, you thought of sex?"

Connor's flush rose a little further up his cheeks, "It's not like I wanted that to be it!"

Marcus grinned, "You're lying to yourself Connor..."

But before the other man could speak, a wicked grin spread slowly across the compact man's face, "Why don't I assuage your fears..."

Before Connor could say anything, strong fingers were curling around his wrist. Marcus grinned, before giving a strong tug and pulling the man down. The move was executed with such force that the other man went sprawling forward, knocking into Marcus as he went.

If Marcus hadn't been such a solid person, they would both have been sprawled across the bed by that point, but instead Connor found himself seated on the other's legs, face to face with the cyborg.

Gasping in shock he attempted to push back, but Marcus still had a strong grip on his wrist, and used it to hold him in place, "I haven't proven my point yet Connor...so just stay still."

The deep tones made Connor shiver, and he avoided looking the other man in the eye, "What then!" he demanded.

Marcus grinned, running his free hand down the other's spine gently, "If we had been together last night, you would know for certain..." He began to press the tips of his fingers strongly into the other's spine as he drew his hand down, making him arch back. "If we had been together, you would still be feeling it now..."

Connor gasped as the fingers drew ever lower, until they pressed into the seam of his pants, still dragging lower Marcus whispered out, "You see John Connor? You haven't even been touched."

Connor gasped and flushed, just barely restraining the moan that longed to break free of his throat. Snapping out of his reverie with noticeable effort, he pushed against the compact chest before him strongly, "Stop it!" he order darkly, before continuing, "And that doesn't mean nothing happened...it could've just as easily been you!"

Marcus raised an eyebrow before chuckling to himself, "You keep telling yourself that Connor." He released the other man's wrist with a shrug, but made no move to force him off.

Connor looked him over, before starting lowly, "You don't think I could get you in that position?"

Marcus met the other man's eyes and grinned; "I don't think you want me in that position..." His words were a deep purr, slipping from his lips with luxurious ease.

Connor scowled, "Let me up damnit!"

Marcus chuckled, "I'm not keeping you here."

Suddenly realising he was free, the taller man slid from his place atop the other's lap and glared down at him.

Marcus laughed, waving his hand at the other dismissively, "Well? Go then." He chuckled, before swinging his legs back up on the bed and making himself comfortable.

Connor gaped at him, "What do you think you're doing?"

Marcus groaned and rolled over onto his side, "I'm going back to sleep sissy-boy, leave me alone."

Connor felt like hitting the man, "But you're in my bed!"

"Didn't seem to bother you last night..." Marcus mumbled tiredly, closing his eyes and attempting to ignore the other man completely.

The resistance leader flushed again, and then felt like cursing at himself for it. Groaning, he put a hand up to his head, which was still throbbing painfully, and decided that he really did need some more sleep too.

Eyeing the bed he sighed deeply, before ordering, "Move over damnit!"

Marcus arranged himself so that he was back on his side of the bed easily, before closing his eyes again without complaint. Already regretting his decision, Connor moved around to the other side of the bed, and led down as far away from the other man as possible.

Unable to sleep with Marcus so close beside him, after a while the resistance leader began to realise two things: A. He was never getting to sleep this way, and B. He was starting to get cold; rooms made entirely out of metal didn't really provide all that much heat.

All of a sudden a strong arm was wrapping around his waist, and Connor was dragged across the bed so quickly that he squeaked in shock. Before he knew it his back was being held against a strong chest, and long legs were wrapping about his own.

Shivering, he lent into the welcome heat, banishing from his head the voice that was screaming at him to get away. He badly needed sleep, and if this was the only way he was going to get it, well, he'd deal with the consequences when he woke up.

Pressing back into the other man's heat he groaned happily, wondering if perhaps he was still a little too drunk to be making rational decisions, before settling down for some sleep.

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Well, there you go!

I'm curious, do people want to see the lemon next, or would they rather I fleshed it out and made a proper go of this relationship thing? :P I could easily make this into a twoshot; straight booze and sex, or I could fill a few extra chapters up with more awkward situations and incredibly hot innuendo, and then give you the sex? :P

In any case, it's up to you guys, so be sure to let me know!

Come on, you've come this far, is it really that hard to push the button?