hhanon | What? They've acted in OTHER things?!

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What? They've acted in OTHER things?!

So, you may be aware that some cast members of HH have acted in other things. Give their profession, this is understandable.

This post is for those who would like to prompt/fic about the other things the guys/girls have been in, without mixing it up with HH-related/non-crossover fic on the other posts.

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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

After he's finished panicking about Jarek, Chris finds he can't stop thinking about what it was like when he slammed Tim into that wall - and he can't wait to do it again.

It’s not a compulsion, as such, just a thought – a thought that has his fingers clenching in the rough material of his duvet and his eyes fluttering shut to relive the moment a thousand times.

Tim against the wall, eyes wide and puzzled, fingers scrabbling against the rough stone.

Tim’s breath hot against his palm, briefly puzzled but then quickly relaxed as soon as he saw who exactly was holding him.

Tim hot and naked underneath him. Nails clawing at his shoulders, groans hot and uncontainable, thigh strong as they spin around and he ends up pressed against the wall with Tim’s teeth slick in his neck-

…Okay, so the last one isn’t true.

But that doesn’t stop him from thinking about it. As his fingers clench again, in the rough material of the duvet before slipping inevitably underneath.

-

It does, however, become a bit of a obsession - and he’s willing to admit that only because truth telling is so very unfashionable in this fly-haunted carcass that they call society.

“And then my boss threw the gun, the actual gun, right at-“ Tim pauses, in the middle of his storytelling session in the back room, frowns at his probably glazed eyes and raises a slow hand to indulge in a bit of useless waving “…Chris? Chris? Are you alright or-?”

He blinks himself, with some speed, from the vision of Tim’s hands clenching in his hair and Tim’s cock sliding slickly into his mouth.

…Smiles, so innocently that even a casual acquaintance would be fooled for a few minutes, “just thinking about something funny I heard the other day. Go on with your pointless tale, then.”

It’s a blessing, really a blessing, that Tim is sweet enough to only briefly blink and then slowly carry on.

-

He starts idling about it at odd moments, dreaming about it even when he’s not free to ease the covers down around his hips and take his cock in hand with Tim’s eyes swimming before his face.

“Um… Mr. Frowny face?” A slightly worried looking old woman asks one morning, as he spaces out at the counter, the image of Tim sliding a slick finger within him enough to drive most coherent thoughts from his head.

“What are you looking at?” Marcus sniffs scornfully one day, as he’s briefly lost in musings of how Tim’s groans would sound and how Tim’s throat would move while he was making them.

“Chris!” Tim himself yells despairingly one movie night, as he takes a long moment to imagine the feeling of stone against naked flesh and naked Tim against that stone.

…Odd moments.

He can hardly mind, as he smilingly excuses himself and walks into the storage room or Tim’s bathroom or even his bedroom and brings himself off at achingly fast speed with a certain constantly despairing face hovering attractively before his, he will admit, slightly glazed eyes.

-

It would be odd, perhaps, to discover such lust for your best friend out of the blue – but then he’s always suspected that this was going to be the end result.

He usually likes girls, yes, but to put a label to something so usually insignificant would be quite incredibly stupid. He knew the moment that he first saw Tim, seven years ago and with slightly more optimistic eyes, that he would eventually end up wanting the man groaning beneath him… Or on besides him, or on top of him with his wrists pinned high above his head.

…He’s getting distracted again.

But, no, he’s always expected this to happen. And that’s why, on the one month anniversary of dreaming about Tim’s cock hard in his hand, he snaps open his eyes in the narrow prison cell and decides that he needs a plan.

There are bonuses to being a genius, after all…

To his surprise, but only his mild surprise for he’s always been good at adapting, he finds that he doesn’t need to make any drastic changes to put the plan into action. To all intents and purposes he and Tim are already dating, just without the frantic tumbles into bed and the slow sinks into warm baths and the walls (always the walls, that is a firm focus).

He’s always around Tim’s house, after all. To the point where even Marcus greets his presence with only an almost fond eyeroll. Always popping up there after work, watching movies at the weekend, occasionally sleeping over when he gets bored with his apartment…

And Tim always visits him at work, too. So often that he’s sure the managers think that they’re already together and have been for years. They chat in the shop with the customers frowning on, laugh in the backroom with the other employee looking disapproving over his coffee, spend hours sitting at the desk together and ignoring the outside world.

And they always call each other. A quick check of his mobile reveals, unsurprisingly, that all of his last calls were with Tim. A quick check of Tim’s mobile, stolen during a bathroom break, reveals exactly the same pattern with him. Endless hours of sitting in the shop with a phone pressed to his ear, ceaseless anecdotes traded with Tim sprawling on his sofa, inevitable contact at least once a day.

He smiles when he finds out.

It makes things a hell of a lot easier.

-

He’s a kind man (some of the time), though, and so he takes things slow. Doesn’t just grab Tim’s shirt one day, slam him back against a wall and start undoing his jeans as the adorable man starts helplessly flailing above (though he does wonder how Tim would react after the flailing was over: wonders if he would kiss back with equal enthusiasm, wonders if his hands would bruise, wonders how his tongue would feel as it pressed in…)

He starts, covertly, doing slightly more romantic things for Tim. Actually tidying his flat instead of vaguely poking at the thing in the sink and then giving up, actually making tea instead of just buying store-brought coffee and happily watching Tim wince, actually making an effort instead of just settling for second best and watching Tim wearily accept it.

“This is actually rather nice,” Tim says on his third attempt at making dinner, a surprised expression painted over his face.

And things are going excellently.

-

After a quick check of his finances, and a sharp reminder that hacking is fun but illegal, he covertly starts taking Tim out to dinner. First just at greasy pizza places for about half an hour but soon progressing from those less than noble starts – Fish and Chips, Chinese, Italian with candles on the table and a hushed atmosphere.

“Nice breadsticks,” Tim murmurs on their third visit to such a place, timidly chewing on one as he peruses the menu.

…It’s as good a time as any, “you have a nice face.”

And Tim stares for a long, caught-in-the-headlights moment… But then simply shrugs, and returns to his perusing without another word on the subject.

Victory.

It only takes a week after that, a relatively brief amount of time but he has been encouraged, for him to slowly reach out when Tim is walking him to work and take one of those hands that he’s dreamed about so many times.

Tim’s hand is big in his, softer than he was expecting. All five digits attached, yes, and gentle even as Tim slowly turns his head and stares like he’s not quite sure what’s happening – he can already tell that this will fuel more fantasies, already knows that he’ll be rushing to the storage room the moment he gets to work and will have his cock happily out and his hands joyfully pumping.

…Unless Tim shoves him off and storms away at this very moment, of course.

But, as he was expecting, the man doesn’t. Only stares for another few seconds, as if getting something clear inside his mysterious brain, and then gives an awkward nod. Starting to squeeze in return as they continue the slow walk to work.

Heavens, this might even be a bathroom day.

-

And things progress swimmingly from there.

They don’t actually talk about dating, for Tim has some odd embarrassment thing and he’s never wanted to put limits on something so simple, but it’s there in the background. An extra little frisson, a tiny little spark that speaks of them no longer being the simple friends they were before.

Tim starts walking down to meet him at lunchtimes, bringing lunch whenever he can. They sit in the park and lazily hold hands, or bump arms, or even coil together with his head resting on Tim’s shoulder and Tim’s fingers slowly sliding through his hair.

In response, for he’s always been a bit competitive, he starts upping the poshness of where they eat at night. Mainly to cause many scenes, yes, but Tim even seems to enjoy that as he hides his smile behind his hand at every single restaurant they get kicked out of. And he certainly enjoys that time at an unnamed restaurant in the middle of town when a shoe is covertly toed off and an ankle is gently rubbed and they’re kicked out into the middle of the street because they almost ended up making out over the table.

When Tim finally, finally, leans in to properly kiss him on a cold night after merrily abusing the cinema together he barely resists the urge to punch the air.

…He resists it a lot easier when he finds that he can throw his arms around Tim’s neck and press their bodies flush together.

It’s about a week later, a week filled with warm kissing and happy moments and inappropriate seconds when Philip surprisingly walks in and Tim tumbles off the sofa, that a wonderful point is finally reached. An amazing, brilliant, darling point that he’s been dreaming about for months.

“Right,” Tim says, storming into the back room (or the sorry excuse for one) just before lunchtime with his hands clenched and his face determined, “what do you want?”

And since he’s never passed up an opportunity (unless it was to hopelessly annoy officious twats) in his life…

“Wall sex,” he says brightly, casually dropping an ink cartridge to the floor and turning around with his hands happily behind his back.

“…What?”

Honestly.

“Wall sex,” he repeats, firmly yet politely, and steps forwards – gently pressing against Tim’s wonderful chest until he steps right back to the wall with wide eyes, “sex against a wall, or me giving you a hand job against the wall, or me blowing you against the wall as you desperately try to muffle your moans.”

“…Oh,” Tim’s eyes are still wide, still wonderfully wide as he presses their chests together, “so this dates from-?”

“Yep,” he nods, smugly sure that he knows what Tim is talking about.

And smugly being proved right, hah, by a quick tilt of Tim’s head and a considering few seconds where his eyes narrow and his nose wrinkles and he gasps just slightly at the brief press of teeth along his jaw “…You got over Jarek pretty quickly.”

“I’m adaptable,” he just stops himself from laughing, because of course Tim would think about that even with teeth moving towards his throat, “what can I say?”

“Rest in peace?”

“Eh…”

“Okay,” he almost detects amusement there, he’d be willing to bet his light fine from the authorities on it… He definitely detects firm hands at his hips the moment afterwards, Tim’s fingers tapping there in a wonderfully teasing way, “I can’t believe that I’m saying this: but do you have lube here?”

…Lube.

Lube.

“I thought you’d put up more of a fight,” he laughs eagerly, quickly turning on his heel and darting away to rummage through that special box that he just knew would come in handy at some brilliantly special point.

“I’ve always found it hard to resist you,” Tim sighs, in wearily resigned tones as he presumably props himself up a bit and waits for certain extremely fun things to start happening.

“Really?”

“Yep, you are the biggest Casanova that the world has ever known.”

And he turns around, grinning hugely, with the lube cradled in his hands and the expectation of Tim soon panting against the wall in his head-

And is immediately surprised, terribly shocked, when his arm is tightly grabbed and he’s swiftly spun - smacking back against warm stone in a way that is as surprising as it is suddenly arousing.

He groans, briefly, can’t quite help it.

“Are you-?” Tim starts with hands bracketing his head, an expression of tender concern on his face that is rather touching, yes, but entirely inappropriate for this situation.

“I’m fine,” he sniffs, and leans up for a biting kiss that should say everything in an easily understandable form.

…Though Tim could probably cope with more than that, really, judging by the speed with which he acts after they break for air. In one smooth movement his trousers, simple things appropriate for lounging around in, are dropping down his thighs along with his underwear. He wriggles in them, reaches down to pull them fully off – but is soon stopped by a firm hand, a pin back to the wall that sends him groaning again.

Tim’s fingers inside him, just as big as he was expecting(-slash-dreaming about), are a wonderfully cold and slick surprise. He cries out, a helpless sound, and finds Tim’s swiftly freed shoulder presented to him as a welcome offering. It tastes sweaty when he bites into it: sweaty and hot and glorious and he’s really not sure why he didn’t come up with his plan sooner if this is the result.

Tim presses another finger up into him, another…

And then draws back, just a little, to undo his own jeans. To slide them a little down his legs so that he can fumble with his boxers and reveal his cock hard and ready… And he will admit, just briefly, that his mouth goes a little dry at the sight – that his fingers wriggle and his wrist slips out from where it’s still being hold and he darts forwards to take that wonderful thing, as far as you can describe a cock as wonderful (he’ll make many exceptions for Tim), into his hand.

“Fuck…”

He laughs, just softly, deftly rubs his thumb over the head and arches forwards a little to see how they’ll feel brushing together…

“Chris, stay” …But then his wrists are being pressed back into the wall, and Tim is staring at him so firmly that his knees may melt a little and his eyelashes may flutter just a bit and, okay, he can obey just this once, “please?”

…Just this once, “okay.”

Probably.

As Tim swiftly, and with a few groans that go straight to his already hard cock, slicks himself up, and smoothly lifts his long legs around those lovely hips, and firmly positions himself in a way that has his head thudding back against the wall and a strangled noise bursting free from his throat before he can quite restrain it.

“Chris-?”

“Just move,” he hisses, and futilely tries to thrust himself down with every muscle that he has-

…And so it’s a good thing that Tim takes mercy on him.

With one long, slow, hard thrust he’s in – and slowly bracing against the wall as he arches and swears and whimpers at the sheer beauty of it. The roughness of the wall against his back, the smile in Tim’s eyes as he slowly looks up again, the feeling of that cock slowly starting to move inside him.

He finds himself clawing at Tim’s shoulders, vaguely whimpering even before the man starts to thrust.

…He finds himself howling when Tim finally draws back on one slow breath and enters him again – requiring a quick muffle into that shoulder and several rather hot gasps afterwards.

It only gets worse on the second thrust.

And the third.

And the fourth.

And by roughly the seventh, and he really is terribly surprised that he held out this long, his head is tilting back against the stone and his eyes are properly clenched shut and his breath is only able to hiss out between his teeth – helpless and shaky as Tim continues to pound into him like nobody else ever has.

…Well, maybe Kim in that rather informative second year of university.

But he doesn’t really want to think about her at this second, as truly brilliant as she was – not with Tim’s teeth in his throat, not with Tim’s body shaking helplessly under his thighs, not with Tim gasping and gasping like he’s never tasted anything so perfect and now never wants to taste anything else, “Chris…”

Anything else but him.

…Wow.

And if he comes at that revelation, like a bit of a soppy git who might deserve a bit of slapping, it’s alright because only Tim will ever know… And even that’s a bit doubtful, considering that he comes a second later with a hard thrust of his own and a certain whimper that doesn’t speak of a single bit of knowledge of the world outside them.

He decides, kindly, that he doesn’t much mind.

Decides, extra kindly as his legs slide down from Tim’s waist and he’s pulled into a brilliantly deep kiss, that he doesn’t mind at all.

saldsadlasjldkjasldkasj YES :D

:DD Thank you!

YES SO MUCH YES asdfghgfdsa the slow slide into a relationship, the casual acceptance of having been together for much longer (because come on, they have) this was just wonderful!

Thank you very much! <333 (And they really have, they're basically married by now. XDD)

fgdshjkhfhaiadohf so perfect. I'll be in my bunk.

Thank you! <3333

...Informative indeed.

<3333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333

Thank you! <333

HHHNNNGGGGGGG *FLAILS*

This... omg... SO HOT

just...so much yes.

/incoherency

Thank you very much! <3333 (And don't worry about coherency, I rarely posess it. XDD)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What? They've acted in OTHER things?!

[Spy] Chris/Tim, wallsex

FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1A/2]

FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1B/2]

FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [1C/2]

FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2A/2]

FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2B/2]

FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]

Re: FILL: A Growing Situation, Chris/Tim, NC-17 [2C/2]