Fic: Primeval: Matins
Jan. 16th, 2011 12:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bigtitchTitle: Matins
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bigtitch
Characters: Stephen/Nick
Rating: NC-17, pwp – explicit slash
Word count: 700
Disclaimer: Not mine, no names, no packdrill.
A/N: Happy Birthdayreggietate!!!
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
There was a pause.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
“I’m going to shoot that bloody animal,” Stephen said without moving.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
“That would be too quick,” Nick said, opening his eyes and squinting against the light that streamed through the bedroom window. “What time is it?”
“Mrmph!”
Nick propped himself up on one elbow and reached over his bedmate to look at the alarm clock. The red figures said 5:34.
“Bloody hell!”
“Whose bright idea was this?” Stephen asked as he turned over.
Nick stayed silent because it had been his idea. And in many ways it still was a good one. Taking a small group of students around the Jurassic Coast fossil hunting by day, drinking in the local pubs by night and spending the rest of the time at a very comfortable farmhouse B&B. The weather was warm, the sun was shining, it was perfect. The only problem was Arnold, the farm’s cockerel, who took his duties very seriously.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
“Bloody thing! Why won’t it shut up?” Stephen pulled Nick close and Nick felt something poke him in the back.
“I see it’s not the only cock that’s up with the dawn!”
“Yeah, well, mine’s more entertaining!”
“Far more.”
Nick sat up and pulled the covers back. Stephen’s exclamation of “Whu?” was cut short by Nick taking Stephen’s erection in his hand. He stroked it through the cloth of Stephen’s boxers for a while and by the time he pulled it free of the cloth, Stephen wasn’t complaining any more.
An errant line of poetry came into Nick’s mind.
“I have a gentil cock, Croweth me day.”
“Whu?”
“Never mind.” Nick put poetry out of his mind and started concentrating on the job in hand. On the cock in hand. He loved making love to Stephen in all the ways the two of them could think of, but there was something satisfying about a simple hand-job well done. He liked being in control, making Stephen react the way he wanted him to. He added a slight twist to his hand action and smiled in satisfaction as Stephen squirmed on the bed covers. He kept up the movement, this was going to be a quick, pleasantly dirty affair.
He moved his hand quickly, in a rhythm he knew Stephen couldn’t resist. It worked. Stephen’s eyes were closed, and sweat sheened his chest. Stephen was gasping for air and Nick knew that he was near the edge when his hips bucked up to meet his hand. A few more strokes and Stephen was coming in hot streaks of white over Nick’s hand.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
It was no good. The timing was too perfect. Nick collapsed on the bed in giggles. After a couple of moments to catch his breath, Stephen pulled him close and kissed him.
“Thank you,” he said. “What was that you said?”
“Oh, just some mediaeval poetry I read somewhere.
I have a gentil cock,
Croweth me day
He doth me risen erly
My matins for to say. “
Stephen grinned. “Nice one, but what about your cock, does he fancy a bit of crowing?”
“In a bit, I’m not as young as you are. Maybe in the shower.”
“You’re on!”
The End
And yes, that’s a genuine 15th Century poem.
I have a gentil cock,
Croweth me day
He doth me risen erly
My matins for to say.
I have a gentil cock,
comen he is of gret:
His comb is of red coral,
His tail is of jet.
I have a gentil cock,
Comen he is of kinde:
His comb is of red coral,
his tail is of inde.
His legges ben of asor,
So gentle and so smale;
his spores arn of silver whit
Into the wortewale.
His eynen arn of cristal,
Loken all in aumber:
And every night he percheth him
In mine ladye's chaumber.
Author:
bigtitchCharacters: Stephen/Nick
Rating: NC-17, pwp – explicit slash
Word count: 700
Disclaimer: Not mine, no names, no packdrill.
A/N: Happy Birthday
reggietate!!!“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
There was a pause.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
“I’m going to shoot that bloody animal,” Stephen said without moving.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
“That would be too quick,” Nick said, opening his eyes and squinting against the light that streamed through the bedroom window. “What time is it?”
“Mrmph!”
Nick propped himself up on one elbow and reached over his bedmate to look at the alarm clock. The red figures said 5:34.
“Bloody hell!”
“Whose bright idea was this?” Stephen asked as he turned over.
Nick stayed silent because it had been his idea. And in many ways it still was a good one. Taking a small group of students around the Jurassic Coast fossil hunting by day, drinking in the local pubs by night and spending the rest of the time at a very comfortable farmhouse B&B. The weather was warm, the sun was shining, it was perfect. The only problem was Arnold, the farm’s cockerel, who took his duties very seriously.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
“Bloody thing! Why won’t it shut up?” Stephen pulled Nick close and Nick felt something poke him in the back.
“I see it’s not the only cock that’s up with the dawn!”
“Yeah, well, mine’s more entertaining!”
“Far more.”
Nick sat up and pulled the covers back. Stephen’s exclamation of “Whu?” was cut short by Nick taking Stephen’s erection in his hand. He stroked it through the cloth of Stephen’s boxers for a while and by the time he pulled it free of the cloth, Stephen wasn’t complaining any more.
An errant line of poetry came into Nick’s mind.
“I have a gentil cock, Croweth me day.”
“Whu?”
“Never mind.” Nick put poetry out of his mind and started concentrating on the job in hand. On the cock in hand. He loved making love to Stephen in all the ways the two of them could think of, but there was something satisfying about a simple hand-job well done. He liked being in control, making Stephen react the way he wanted him to. He added a slight twist to his hand action and smiled in satisfaction as Stephen squirmed on the bed covers. He kept up the movement, this was going to be a quick, pleasantly dirty affair.
He moved his hand quickly, in a rhythm he knew Stephen couldn’t resist. It worked. Stephen’s eyes were closed, and sweat sheened his chest. Stephen was gasping for air and Nick knew that he was near the edge when his hips bucked up to meet his hand. A few more strokes and Stephen was coming in hot streaks of white over Nick’s hand.
“Erk-eh-ERK-eh-ERRRRRRR!”
It was no good. The timing was too perfect. Nick collapsed on the bed in giggles. After a couple of moments to catch his breath, Stephen pulled him close and kissed him.
“Thank you,” he said. “What was that you said?”
“Oh, just some mediaeval poetry I read somewhere.
I have a gentil cock,
Croweth me day
He doth me risen erly
My matins for to say. “
Stephen grinned. “Nice one, but what about your cock, does he fancy a bit of crowing?”
“In a bit, I’m not as young as you are. Maybe in the shower.”
“You’re on!”
The End
And yes, that’s a genuine 15th Century poem.
I have a gentil cock,
Croweth me day
He doth me risen erly
My matins for to say.
I have a gentil cock,
comen he is of gret:
His comb is of red coral,
His tail is of jet.
I have a gentil cock,
Comen he is of kinde:
His comb is of red coral,
his tail is of inde.
His legges ben of asor,
So gentle and so smale;
his spores arn of silver whit
Into the wortewale.
His eynen arn of cristal,
Loken all in aumber:
And every night he percheth him
In mine ladye's chaumber.
