Project Cup Of Sex
Cup #4: Andrew Dan-Jumbo (While You Were Out) x Harper (Andromeda)
Author: scheherezhad
Rating: light R
Disclaimer: Don't own, not making any money, please don't sue.
Author's notes: My first fic with a real person since my days in Savage Garden fandom. Eef. Please send complaints to the Box of Sex, c/o Too Bad So Sad Enterprises, 666 Suck It Up You Whiny Baby Road, ATU, Hell 66666.
Feedback: Yes, please. scheherezhad@yahoo.com

"Aw, crap. I was working on a neutron bomb!"

"...I was building a bookshelf."

Seamus Harper turned around, soldering iron in hand, and found himself toolbelt to toolbelt with the tall, dark carpentry god of his dreams.

"So bookshelf, huh?" Harper looked the guy up and down, then stuck out a hand. "Seamus Zelazney Harper—but you can call me Harper."

The other man shook his hand warily. "Andrew. Andrew Dan-Jumbo."

Strong, callused hands and an ancient-British accent, and how hot was that? He'd never known anyone who still had that accent. He'd only ever heard it in vids from before the Commonwealth era.

Harper circled Andrew predatorily. "There's not much to do in here, you know. And we could be stuck for a long time," he began. He stopped in front of Andrew. "We oughta find something to keep us busy."

Their eyes met, and Andrew slowly leaned down to kiss him. Harper latched onto the taller man with arms and mouth, but their tool belts were in the way of wrapping his legs around Andrew's waist. Reluctantly, he dropped his hands to unfasten the belts.

Andrew pulled back to help him. As soon as their tools were safe on the floor, Harper leapt on him. Andrew supported his weight easily, and Harper shivered a little as he leaned in for another kiss. They practically devoured each other, rubbing and grinding and sucking and biting, and damn it, it was nice.

With some maneuvering, Harper got a hand between them to undo his pants. Andrew stepped forward until he could prop them against the wall and undo his own jeans. He tugged at Harper's oversized pants, getting them past his hips.

"Lube?" Andrew asked, biting at Harper's neck.

"C-cargo pocket."

He found a tube of slick and prepared Harper quickly. Then he was in and thrusting, and they were both talking, and Harper was pretty sure some of it was French, and that was hot. Andrew had a hand on Harper's cock, gripping tightly and doing some twisting thing on the downstroke that nearly fried Harper's data port.

When it was over, Harper slumped against Andrew, and Andrew slid to his knees. They rested against the wall for a while. Harper finally got enough energy back to get his pants back on properly, which meant that he also had enough energy to talk again.

"So you're a carpenter? I love a guy who's good with his hands."