A/N: This is not the fic I'm supposed to be working on. This... this is smut. Set in my Lester/Becker 'verse that starts with "Promise Not to Try". The title is from Poison... I blame the fact that song came up in my Itunes while I was writing for the direction this fic ended up going in.

Talk Dirty to Me

James had just returned to his office after getting a coffee when a sudden influx of noise alerted him to the fact that the team must be returning from the latest anomaly. He assumed that it mustn't have gone too badly, as it had only been a few hours and no one appeared to be hurt. They all seemed to be in good spirits and Abby gave him a wave as she passed by. Becker was the last to wander in, conversing with a few members of his security team. He'd stopped with his back to James' office.

When Becker finally turned around, James frowned. Of course Becker would be the one to return bloodied. His shirt was torn and there was a gash on the side of his face, held closed with steri-strips. Becker let himself into James' office without knocking. He looked worse close-up, scratches showing through the rip in his shirt and on his forearms and a bit of blood matting his hair, but he seemed cheerful enough.

"You're not looking your best, Becker. One might go so far as to say you look bloody awful. Did you stand still and let it chew on you?"

Becker shrugged. "It's not bad, just stings a bit. Damn thing caught me off-guard, but while it was busy mauling me, Matt was able to get a shot off."

"So you're acting as bait now, is that it?"

Running his hands down over his sides, Becker said casually, "Something about me is just irresistible, I suppose. Creatures, co-workers, bosses... I can't help it."

"And then you open your mouth and the illusion is shattered."

"Now, James, don't be dishonest. I know how much you love my mouth."

"Only when it's got my cock in it."

Becker laughed, loud and genuine. "Well, that's honest enough, sweetheart. Do you think you can manage to spare some time for me? I could really use your help with a... problem."

James narrowed his eyes and looked at Becker's crotch. "This problem wouldn't happen to be in your trousers, would it?" The black combat trousers did a fair job of disguising it, but James was almost certain Becker was sporting a hard-on. It wouldn't have been the first time Becker came back from dealing with an anomaly in such a state.

"Oh, you know me too well, darling. But you see, that's why it has to be you."

"Can't you help yourself?"

"I could, but it wouldn't be nearly so much fun. Come on, James, don't you remember the fun we used to have?"

"You say that as if we don't fuck like rabbits as it is."

"But it's more exciting if we do it here. You don't want the thrill to go out of our relationship, do you?"

"You're not going to give up, are you?" James put a note of resignation into his words, but truthfully, he was perfectly willing to be obliging.

"I think you know the answer to that." Becker put one shoulder to the door, resting his hand on the handle. "I'll wait for you in that empty lab by the armoury, you know the one? Don't take too long or I'll be very put-out. I know you don't want to make me sad." He ducked his head and stuck out his lip in a pout, the angle of his body giving James a perfect view of the damage he'd taken that day.

James scowled at Becker's back as he left. Damn manipulative bastard.

Checking first to make sure there was no one in the corridor to see him, James opened the door to the lab. He locked the door behind him and then tried the handle for good measure. Becker was sitting on a lab table, his legs spread wide, still dressed in his dirty combat gear, but with two small, clean towels lying near his hand. Although it had been some time since they'd done this, it appeared that neither of them had forgotten the routine.

James stepped into the circle of Becker's legs and Becker immediately put his hands on James' hips and tugged him closer. From this close, James could see the wound on Becker's face wasn't quite as bad as he'd originally thought, but he still hoped Becker had plans to get it stitched up. He flicked a few strands of Becker's hair back. "Couldn't you even wash the blood out of your hair first?"

"No," Becker said, his eyes on James' mouth. "No, I really couldn't. I had such a hard-on, I couldn't stop thinking about you the whole drive back. I nearly pulled over just to have a wank but the boys would never have let me live it down."

"To say nothing of how you would have been arrested for public indecency."

Becker slid his hands up and around James' waist, edging forward on the table, hooking his ankles around the backs of James' legs. James became aware of how warm Becker was, how he smelled of blood and sweat and earth, how his erection pressed firmly against James' thigh.

"Fuck," James breathed.

Becker started to lick and bite his way over James' jaw and down his throat. "God, I want you, James, I need you. Please don't make me wait."

With absolutely no intention of waiting, James shoved Becker down onto the table and kissed him fiercely, his back protesting the awkward angle. Becker grinned wickedly up at him, licking his lips. "You didn't need much convincing, darling."

James kissed him again to stop him talking. All Becker had done was give him an opening to make a sarcastic retort, but James didn't trust himself to speak. Becker had no idea how wrecked he looked, and even if James knew in his head Becker was fine, it was harder to accept in his gut. Becker could ask for anything right now and James wouldn't refuse him.

And then there was the fact that seeing Becker so needy and actually begging was incredibly arousing.

Becker stroked his thumbs over James' cheeks. There was something in his dark eyes that made James suspect Becker knew exactly what he was thinking. James looked away, focussed his gaze on Becker's mouth, which was much safer.

"Can I tell you what I want?" Becker asked, and when James nodded, he continued, "I've thought about it so many times. Before... before, I'd bring myself off picturing it, thinking I could never have it, never have you the way I wanted. I'd watch you walk down the corridor, so proper in your expensive suits, and I'd imagine bending you over one of these tables, your trousers around your knees. Anyone could walk outside the door and have no idea that we were in here, that I had you begging for me. And when we'd finished, you could fix your suit and straighten your tie and walk out like nothing had happened, but I would know that you'd had my come dripping down your leg. Please, James. Let me fuck you in here."

"Christ," James said, clenching his eyes shut. He felt absurdly hard and Becker hadn't laid a finger on him yet. "Yes, God, yes, do it, Hils."

Becker's kiss was a promise, deep and wet while he fucked James' mouth with his tongue. He squeezed James' arse through his trousers and then levered himself up off the lab table, nudging James back and then spinning them around. He removed James' jacket and set it neatly aside, then pushed James' braces down his shoulders. With one gentle hand to James' back, he urged James to lean forward over the table. James put his hands out to brace himself, breathing deeply as Becker lowered the zip of James' trousers and then eased them down his thighs. A rustle behind him clued James in to the fact that Becker had released his own cock.

Becker ran one finger down the crack of James' arse and then after only a moment slid one slick finger into James' hole. James gasped at the intrusion and said, "Where did you get lube? Keeping it here just in case?"

"From the armoury. It's gun oil, we hardly ever use it anyway, now we've got those fucking EMDs."

James almost smiled at Becker's disgusted tone. No matter how well the EMDs served their purpose, Becker would never completely forgive Matt for taking his guns away.

All thoughts were then quickly struck from his mind as Becker started preparing him in earnest. He crooked his finger just right to rub against James' prostate, sending shivers of sensation running through James' body. One finger quickly became two, and then three, and it spoke of how much Becker needed this that he'd rushed the preparation. James readied himself for an extra burn.

And it did burn, as Becker pushed his cock into James' tight hole, but he concentrated on the feel of Becker's fingers against his skin, Becker's breath on the back of his neck, and slowly he relaxed. Becker pulled out and pushed carefully back in, giving James plenty of time to adjust. "All right, James?"

"Fantastic," James said and Becker started to fall into a rhythm, faster and deeper, finding the angle that made him hit James' prostate. And, yeah, okay, now he really was fantastic.

Becker started talking, warm and intimate, his voice remarkably even. "It's just like old times, right? You and me in the ARC after an anomaly. But completely different. You would never have let me fuck you before."

"I don't remember you letting me fuck you either."

"I would have let you if you'd asked," Becker said right into James' ear, tracing the shell with his tongue and nipping at the lobe. "I wanted you to."

James tightened his grip on the edge of the table till his knuckles turned white. "Now you tell me."

Becker chuckled, hoarse and throaty. "I think we wasted a lot of time being idiots," he said, surprisingly melancholy considering their current activities, but then he wrapped one hand around James' cock, derailing anything James might have said in response. "I imagine we've fucked enough since then to make up for it, though."

Becker's large, callused hand stroked up and down James' cock, tip to base, slick with pre-come. James loved the feel of Becker's hand on him; his own hand had never felt near good enough since the first time Becker had stroked him off. As his hand sped up, so did his thrusts; Becker started to slam into him, making James whine pathetically.

"You love feeling my cock in you, fucking you open, don't you, James?"

Oh, fuck, yes. "Not as much as you love my cock in your arse, Hils," James managed to say.

Becker's hips stuttered and with one more ragged movement he was spilling into James, his hand losing its rhythm, his breathing harsh and uneven. In a moment he'd remembered himself, his hand resuming its strokes on James' cock.

He started talking again as well, his voice rougher than before. "I do love your cock, James, I love everything about you. I love how you smell, and how you taste, and those sounds you make. I love to watch you while I touch you, your face when you come, and I love to feel you, your hands and your mouth on my skin, your cock in me."

Becker's quiet words went straight through James, like an extra sensation, and he knew he was making ridiculous, embarrassing noises but he couldn't help himself.

"That's it, sweetheart, you're so close. When we go home you can fuck me so hard, however you want. On my knees or against the wall, I don't care. I'll finger myself open while you watch; you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

James moaned as he pictured it, felt his balls start to clench. Oh, God, he was so close.

"I'll be so tight for you, James, I love having you balls deep in me, I love feeling your come drip out of me. I love it best when you clean me out after, your clever tongue licking up every drop-"

"I- oh, fuck, Hils," James said and he came as hard as he could remember coming in his life. Somehow he'd ended up with his forehead pressed against the cool lab table, his legs hardly even able to support his own weight. He realised Becker's arm was tight around his middle and Becker's voice was now whispering soothing nonsense instead of the filth he'd been spouting only just before.

"Back with me now, love?" Becker asked, full of amusement.

James straightened up and turned around, having to pause to pull his trousers up so he didn't trip. Becker must have wiped him clean, though James couldn't for the life of him recall when he'd done it. He ran his fingers nervously through his hair, hardly able to meet Becker's gaze.

"You're amazing, you're gorgeous," Becker said and kissed him. James let himself relax, setting his hands on Becker's hips inside his still undone trousers, pressing his fingers into the skin, leaving marks that reddened but wouldn't bruise- Becker had quite enough marks on his body already.

"I have to go," James said reluctantly, drawing away. "We took too long as it is, someone will be looking for me-"

"It's okay, it's fine. I'm sure Lorraine has been covering for you."

"Yes, Lorraine." Lorraine was a wonderful woman. James wondered if it was time for her to have another raise.

Becker started to tuck James' shirt into his trousers. "I meant it, you know. What I said. All of it."

James watched Becker's face, the way he was so intently avoiding James' eyes and instead paying careful attention to James' attire. James feathered his knuckles over the cut on Becker's face and then down his jaw. Yes, James did know. "I think I'd like to have you in the shower first and we'll go from there."

Startled, Becker raised his eyes. And then he smiled. "I do look good wet."

"Yes, you do," James said fondly and batted Becker's hands away so he could retrieve his jacket. "Now go and have someone stitch you up. It would be such a shame to wreck that pretty face."

Becker saluted him, though James hoped Becker had never had quite that sly tilt to his lips when saluting his superior officers in the past. "Yes, sir, right away, sir. Oh, and... you might want to have a look in a mirror, because it's pretty clear what you've just been doing."

James raised his hands to his hair, feeling the back of his neck heat up, and Becker started to laugh.

End