A/N: Written for Kink Bingo, 'breathplay'. As such, you have been warned that this contains consensual choking during sex, with proper safety precautions.

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It started as an accident. Or at least, Connor thought it was an accident.

Becker had him shoved up against a wall, hand around his cock, when he tugged unexpectedly at the ends of the scarf around Connor's neck, tightening it just a little, just enough to feel the pressure on his neck. Connor came suddenly, muffling his groan into Becker's neck and hoping Becker hadn't noticed.

He didn't say anything so Connor assumed he'd got away with it - after all, Becker wasn't one to pass up an opportunity for teasing.

But afterwards, Connor started to wonder if he'd been mistaken. It wasn't overt, but Becker's fingers started to linger on Connor's neck, brushing against it when they were at work, stroking it when they had sex. He would pull gently on Connor's scarves, teasingly and lightly enough to make it seem innocent.

But Connor knew Becker and nothing Becker did was ever completely innocent.

Connor was standing in the atrium talking to Abby when someone (okay, he knew it was Becker immediately, no one else smelled quite like him) bumped into him, brushing against his back and pulling on Connor's scarf to steady himself. Connor's breath caught and his hand moved instinctively to his neck, his eyes widening as he caught Becker's playful expression.

Becker let go, fingers sliding down Connor's chest. "Sorry," he murmured, like it had been an accident, and went on his way.

The flush in Connor's cheeks took a long time to fade.

"Why do you wear those scarves?"

Connor's fingers stilled over the laptop keys. "What?"

Becker was leaning one arm casually along the back of the sofa, his gaze directed to Connor's neck. Which was, actually, scarf-free at the moment. "I asked you why you wear those scarves."

"I… um…" Every ounce of intelligence seemed to have fled Connor's brain at once. He couldn't think of a single reasonable explanation and he was too scared of Becker's reaction to the truth to even consider that option. "Because I like them?"

"Huh. I thought it was because you like having things around your neck."

If Connor had been drinking anything, he would have spat it out all over himself. "I don't know what you-"

"Connor." Becker turned to face him fully, reaching his arm out until his hand stroked Connor's cheek, feather-light brushes of his fingers over Connor's jaw and then slowly, so slowly, down to his neck.

Connor shivered.

Becker wrapped his fingers around Connor's neck.

"I might… Um, I might…" Connor swallowed and tried to remember how to speak. "Oh, God, Becks."

"I've done a lot of things, Connor. I could do this for you, if it's what you like. I want you to have what you like."

"Oh, fuck."

Becker pushed the laptop out of the way, threw one leg across Connor's lap, and knelt over him. "I know how to be safe. Do you want me to?"

Connor's fingers caught in the hair at the nape of Becker's neck, twisting and yanking. He squirmed underneath Becker, his eyes fluttering closed and his head tilting back as Becker kept his hand encircled around Connor's neck.

And then Becker released him, earning a displeased squeak of noise from Connor. "Conn, I'm not doing anything until you actually tell me you want it. I need to hear you say it; I won't guess with something like this."

As much as Connor didn't want to have to verbalise his desires, he knew why Becker was making him. And he also thought, maybe, that Becker's insistence upon it was a sign that he was exactly the right sort of person to do this with. Before Becker, Connor had gone to clubs a couple of times hoping to find someone, but he'd never been able to work up the nerve. He'd always been afraid of having an accident.

"Becks," Connor started, licking his lips. "Becks, I want you to choke me."

Becker exhaled, his eyes dark with intent. "Tell me what you like."

"Your hand around my neck, oh, hell, I could come just imagining it," Connor said, and once he'd begun, the words came tumbling out in an unstoppable stream. "I have, I've thought about it while I've wanked, I've imagined how your hand would feel, or what it would be like if you... if you choked me with one of my scarves, what it would feel like with you inside me. Please, Becker, please."

"Christ," Becker said and leaned in to kiss Connor hard, until Connor was dizzy from the lack of breath, like a prelude of what they were going to do. "I want you in the bed," he said, standing up and grabbing Connor by the arms to drag him along to the bedroom.

And that was perfectly fine with Connor. He let Becker lead him like a dog on a leash and then he let Becker yank his clothes off, throwing them into a pile on the floor because the only time Becker was ever untidy was when he was gunning for a shag. He flopped onto his back on the bed and waited, watching Becker undress.

Becker eyed Connor speculatively and then glanced around the room, settling on the leather tie Connor had left hanging from the back of a chair. He picked it up, rubbing it between his fingers.

Connor couldn't help it. He made a quiet, needy sound and let his knees splay open, dropping his hand to lazily stroke his cock.

"This will do," Becker murmured to himself and joined Connor on the bed. He kissed Connor's neck, lightly at first, and then with small nips. Connor writhed underneath him and dug his fingers into Becker's back, vaguely aware that he was making a highly unmanly mewling noise.

He kept doing it when Becker drew back, though it took on a displeased note.

Becker chuckled and grabbed the bottle of lube out of the bedside table. He coated his fingers in it and said, "I think you mentioned something about wanting to try it with me inside you? Or did you change your mind?"

"No," Connor managed to gasp. "No, definitely didn't change my mind. Carry on."

"Carrying on, then," Becker said and stuck his finger up Connor's arse.

Connor moaned and pushed down on Becker's finger, shamelessly begging for it.

"You little slut," came Becker's amused voice as a second finger joined the first.

"You love it."

"Not as much as you do."

Whatever, Connor decided. He really didn't care how slutty he was or who got the better end of the discussion just as long as Becker kept doing what he was doing.

Becker slid his fingers out and Connor tried to swallow his disappointed groan as, after all, if the fingers were coming out then the cock was going in. He helpfully pulled his knees back more to let Becker get into a better position.

Settling over him, Becker took the discarded tie and draped it around Connor's neck, drawing it loosely closed. "Ready, Conn?"

"Please." Connor had been ready for what felt like a few hundred years or so.

"So polite." Becker quirked a smile and pushed in, balls deep, holding still for a moment to let Connor adjust before starting up a steady rhythm. For a while it was good, so good, Becker moving inside him but it wasn't quite...

And then Becker leaned down closer as their muscles relaxed more, his chest almost touching Connor's, and he shifted his weight so that he could wrap his fingers into the ends of the tie.

Connor realised that the mumbled chorus of "Please, please," was, in fact, him, and it was actually out loud.

There was mostly intent and arousal in Becker's eyes, but also amusement. "Say 'purple' if you want me to stop. And, here." He took Connor's hand and rested it snugly on his hip. "If you let go of me, I'm going to stop. Okay?"

"Yes, okay, yes," Connor said and didn't care how eager or impatient he sounded.

It took only the slightest of movements for Becker to reach his mouth and claim a kiss, his cock shifting that much deeper, and then he was pulling on the tie. Lightly, so lightly at first, so that it was almost like nothing, but he tightened it as he started to thrust harder and faster.

Oh, God. Connor closed his eyes and felt his breathing start to change, the way it took more effort, and felt the blessed pressure around his neck. Connor's cock was caught between their bodies and he reached between them to stroke it with his free hand, wanting just a little more friction.

Spots were dancing before his eyes and he was starting to feel light-headed. He gave himself over to the sensations, gave himself completely over to Becker. That was what he loved best about it, the feeling of giving over control. He could mess with his own breathing or put something around his own neck - and he had, on more than one occasion - but it would never be as good as doing it like this, with someone else. Being able to trust them enough to let go and knowing that they were secure enough to agree to it.

It was better with Becker than he could ever have imagined.

Connor's nails were sinking into the skin of Becker's hip hard enough to leave marks and Becker was pounding into him with the stuttered, jerky movements that meant he was getting close. Connor was close, too, so close, and he twisted his hand just right until he was spilling out over his stomach, feeling a heady rush as he orgasmed. It was like being just on the edge of blacking out, hovering on that precipice, the most amazingly intense sensation.

Becker was gasping out Connor's name into his neck, loosening the tie even as he thrust harder into Connor's arse. Connor gripped his arms around Becker's back and held him through it, murmuring almost nonsensical words of gratitude as he started to catch his breath.

"Connor," Becker said, catching his mouth in a sloppy kiss. "Conn, was that…"

"Best orgasm ever? Yeah, pretty much."

Becker snorted a laugh into Connor's skin. "I'll take the compliment, thanks."

"No, really," Connor said, not knowing why it suddenly seemed so important that Becker understand that he meant it, that even if he'd been joking he was actually completely serious. "Thank you."

"I told you," Becker said after a moment of silence. "I want you to have what you like."

Connor laid there in a sticky, sweaty pile with Becker's way too heavy body collapsed on top of him and his favourite (okay, only) tie around his neck and knew that he had absolutely everything he wanted.

End