Fic: BSG: under the mistletoe, everybody knows (we will take off our clothes)
Title: under the mistletoe, everybody knows (we will take off our clothes)
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Rating: R
Length: 1240
A/N: I tried to write fluff, and it came out smutty, so happy holidays to all. ;) Thanks to sabinelagrande and leiascully for looking this over!
Disclaimers: This isn't for profit, just for the fun of saholidayflash! All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a Christmas song of Lady Gaga's, which I also had nothing to do with.
Lee is fresh from the shower and wearing nothing but a towel when Kara steps into the officers' quarters, a bottle of beer in one hand and a pair of boots in the other. She does a brief survey of the room, winks at Lee, and drops the boots outside the hatch with a flourish.
He's pretty sure he's hard before the hatch swings shut, and from the smirk she's wearing as she walks toward him, she is completely aware of the way his body responds to her. He shifts uncomfortably and tries to think of something to say. "Kara," he says dumbly, like he's never really been alone in a room with her before, "I... shouldn't you be at the party? Not that you have to leave," he adds quickly, shrugging. "I mean, you can be here instead of there."
"Obviously," she says, still smirking, and pushes the bottle of beer at him.
He takes the bottle and tries to concentrate on drinking, hoping fervently that this will prevent him from continuing his unfortunate impression of a high-school freshman. In the minute or so that it takes him to drain the bottle and set it on the table, Kara has unearthed a pair of dress sashes, which he blinks at with no small amount of confusion.
"Kara?"
"Happy Saturnalia, sir," Kara says, as though this should explain everything. It doesn't, but he starts to get the picture when she wraps the sash carefully around his bicep, nudging him backwards until he bumps into the ladder that extends down from the top rack. He wonders if what he hopes is about to happen is really about to happen, or if this is another one of those cruel nightmares that stops just when things are really getting good. He's never been religious, but he thinks he could be a very willing convert, if only this could turn out to be real.
"Didn't you do this in school? Even the CAG has to take orders from his poor lowly pilots on Saturnalia, Lee," she's saying, her fingers working to loop the sash over the rung of the ladder.
"Right, but aren't you supposed to be, um, doing something that your superior, um, normally does? Because I don't really recall any courses in tying pilots up, you know, from my time in, ah," he pauses to clear his throat, "CAG school." His voice squeaks a little at the end of the sentence, and Kara snorts.
"CAG school? Really?"
"Whatever, you know what I meant," he grumbles, flexing his arm against the sash. "But I'm still not entirely sure what you're doing. Is this some kind of Saturnalia prank? Some religious tradition that I'm, you know, not aware of?"
"Look, Lee," Kara says, stepping away from him, hands on her hips, "it's the first frakking Saturnalia we've had since everything went to shit. Even the Commander says that everyone's gonna celebrate." She reaches back and grabs the extra sash off the table. "So I'm celebrating. C'mon, Apollo, you telling me that you really wanna disobey a direct order like that?" She leans into him, the curve of her hip brushing deliberately against his erection, and he doesn't have time to choke back the groan that escapes. Kara doesn't look at him, but her smile is wicked as she grabs his free arm.
"In the, ah, spirit of the holidays, I suppose I could, um, oblige," Lee stammers, watching her pin his other arm to the ladder. He figures that he's probably dreaming. That's the only way this is happening. He prays that he doesn't wake up before it's over, and he silently vows to kill anyone who makes that happen.
"Figured you'd come around," Kara drawls, giving the knots she's tied one final tug before she presses close and reaches up to kiss him. Lee's arms push against the restricting fabric, and he makes a frustrated noise against her mouth when he realizes that he's not going anywhere until she wants him to. Kara pulls away, grinning, and he can feel her fingers dancing teasingly along his waist before she tugs the towel away from his body and lets it fall to the floor.
"Sorry, sir," she grins, trailing her fingers across his abdomen, "looks like you're stuck here."
"Kara, I-- oh my," Lee breathes, when the pad of her thumb makes contact with the tip of his dick. By the time she's got her hand wrapped around him, his eyes are squeezed shut and he's moaning her name, and any reservations he might have had about this situation have vanished in a haze of pleasure. He doesn't open his eyes again until he notices that the weight of her body against his is gone, and for one horrible moment he thinks that it really has all been a dream, but then he feels the warmth of her mouth against his dick, and he shivers when she pulls away to trace the line of his hip with her tongue. He watches through half-closed eyes as her mouth closes around him again, and for the next several minutes he knows absolutely nothing except the thrill of her tongue and the delicious pull of her lips. It's over before he'd like it to be, and he's breathing hard and struggling to stay standing. Kara tugs the towel out from under her knees and wraps it around him before she gets to her feet.
"Happy Saturnalia, Lee," she says, and when she leans in to kiss him again, he notices that the smirk is back.
"Hey," he manages to say, "don't you want, you know," he bobs his head at her ineffectually, "anything?"
"No thanks," she grins, stepping jauntily towards the door, "I got what I wanted. For now."
She's been gone for several minutes before Lee's head is clear enough for him to realize that he's still tied to the ladder. He's trying to figure out how to extricate himself from Kara's expert knots when the hatch swings open and Kara peeks in. Lee only hopes she hasn't brought an entire squadron with her to observe their half-naked CAG, the unwitting victim of her holiday prank.
Kara, who mercifully seems to have come back alone, tries to look innocent and fails. "You still here?"
"Very funny, Starbuck," he snipes. He's a little pissed at her for abandoning him, even temporarily, but he's also relieved that she's by herself, so he's trying not to scowl too much. He's hoping that if he doesn't, maybe she has more plans for this post-apocalyptic holiday celebration, and maybe they will continue to involve him, and maybe this whole religious holiday thing won't be so frakking bad after all.
"Just a little holiday fun, Apollo," Kara says, strolling over to him and patting his cheek. "Wish I had a picture of that look on your face." She tugs on the knots, one at a time, and Lee's arms are free again.
"Got any more orders for me, sir?" Lee asks, pulling on some tanks and sweat pants before she can tie him to anything else. "In the, ah, spirit of the season, you know."
Kara looks him up and down, and he feels a moment's regret for letting her untie him. "Let's get drunk and do it in a Raptor," she suggests, and he grins and tosses her a salute before he follows her out of the room.
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairing: Kara/Lee
Rating: R
Length: 1240
A/N: I tried to write fluff, and it came out smutty, so happy holidays to all. ;) Thanks to sabinelagrande and leiascully for looking this over!
Disclaimers: This isn't for profit, just for the fun of saholidayflash! All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a Christmas song of Lady Gaga's, which I also had nothing to do with.
Lee is fresh from the shower and wearing nothing but a towel when Kara steps into the officers' quarters, a bottle of beer in one hand and a pair of boots in the other. She does a brief survey of the room, winks at Lee, and drops the boots outside the hatch with a flourish.
He's pretty sure he's hard before the hatch swings shut, and from the smirk she's wearing as she walks toward him, she is completely aware of the way his body responds to her. He shifts uncomfortably and tries to think of something to say. "Kara," he says dumbly, like he's never really been alone in a room with her before, "I... shouldn't you be at the party? Not that you have to leave," he adds quickly, shrugging. "I mean, you can be here instead of there."
"Obviously," she says, still smirking, and pushes the bottle of beer at him.
He takes the bottle and tries to concentrate on drinking, hoping fervently that this will prevent him from continuing his unfortunate impression of a high-school freshman. In the minute or so that it takes him to drain the bottle and set it on the table, Kara has unearthed a pair of dress sashes, which he blinks at with no small amount of confusion.
"Kara?"
"Happy Saturnalia, sir," Kara says, as though this should explain everything. It doesn't, but he starts to get the picture when she wraps the sash carefully around his bicep, nudging him backwards until he bumps into the ladder that extends down from the top rack. He wonders if what he hopes is about to happen is really about to happen, or if this is another one of those cruel nightmares that stops just when things are really getting good. He's never been religious, but he thinks he could be a very willing convert, if only this could turn out to be real.
"Didn't you do this in school? Even the CAG has to take orders from his poor lowly pilots on Saturnalia, Lee," she's saying, her fingers working to loop the sash over the rung of the ladder.
"Right, but aren't you supposed to be, um, doing something that your superior, um, normally does? Because I don't really recall any courses in tying pilots up, you know, from my time in, ah," he pauses to clear his throat, "CAG school." His voice squeaks a little at the end of the sentence, and Kara snorts.
"CAG school? Really?"
"Whatever, you know what I meant," he grumbles, flexing his arm against the sash. "But I'm still not entirely sure what you're doing. Is this some kind of Saturnalia prank? Some religious tradition that I'm, you know, not aware of?"
"Look, Lee," Kara says, stepping away from him, hands on her hips, "it's the first frakking Saturnalia we've had since everything went to shit. Even the Commander says that everyone's gonna celebrate." She reaches back and grabs the extra sash off the table. "So I'm celebrating. C'mon, Apollo, you telling me that you really wanna disobey a direct order like that?" She leans into him, the curve of her hip brushing deliberately against his erection, and he doesn't have time to choke back the groan that escapes. Kara doesn't look at him, but her smile is wicked as she grabs his free arm.
"In the, ah, spirit of the holidays, I suppose I could, um, oblige," Lee stammers, watching her pin his other arm to the ladder. He figures that he's probably dreaming. That's the only way this is happening. He prays that he doesn't wake up before it's over, and he silently vows to kill anyone who makes that happen.
"Figured you'd come around," Kara drawls, giving the knots she's tied one final tug before she presses close and reaches up to kiss him. Lee's arms push against the restricting fabric, and he makes a frustrated noise against her mouth when he realizes that he's not going anywhere until she wants him to. Kara pulls away, grinning, and he can feel her fingers dancing teasingly along his waist before she tugs the towel away from his body and lets it fall to the floor.
"Sorry, sir," she grins, trailing her fingers across his abdomen, "looks like you're stuck here."
"Kara, I-- oh my," Lee breathes, when the pad of her thumb makes contact with the tip of his dick. By the time she's got her hand wrapped around him, his eyes are squeezed shut and he's moaning her name, and any reservations he might have had about this situation have vanished in a haze of pleasure. He doesn't open his eyes again until he notices that the weight of her body against his is gone, and for one horrible moment he thinks that it really has all been a dream, but then he feels the warmth of her mouth against his dick, and he shivers when she pulls away to trace the line of his hip with her tongue. He watches through half-closed eyes as her mouth closes around him again, and for the next several minutes he knows absolutely nothing except the thrill of her tongue and the delicious pull of her lips. It's over before he'd like it to be, and he's breathing hard and struggling to stay standing. Kara tugs the towel out from under her knees and wraps it around him before she gets to her feet.
"Happy Saturnalia, Lee," she says, and when she leans in to kiss him again, he notices that the smirk is back.
"Hey," he manages to say, "don't you want, you know," he bobs his head at her ineffectually, "anything?"
"No thanks," she grins, stepping jauntily towards the door, "I got what I wanted. For now."
She's been gone for several minutes before Lee's head is clear enough for him to realize that he's still tied to the ladder. He's trying to figure out how to extricate himself from Kara's expert knots when the hatch swings open and Kara peeks in. Lee only hopes she hasn't brought an entire squadron with her to observe their half-naked CAG, the unwitting victim of her holiday prank.
Kara, who mercifully seems to have come back alone, tries to look innocent and fails. "You still here?"
"Very funny, Starbuck," he snipes. He's a little pissed at her for abandoning him, even temporarily, but he's also relieved that she's by herself, so he's trying not to scowl too much. He's hoping that if he doesn't, maybe she has more plans for this post-apocalyptic holiday celebration, and maybe they will continue to involve him, and maybe this whole religious holiday thing won't be so frakking bad after all.
"Just a little holiday fun, Apollo," Kara says, strolling over to him and patting his cheek. "Wish I had a picture of that look on your face." She tugs on the knots, one at a time, and Lee's arms are free again.
"Got any more orders for me, sir?" Lee asks, pulling on some tanks and sweat pants before she can tie him to anything else. "In the, ah, spirit of the season, you know."
Kara looks him up and down, and he feels a moment's regret for letting her untie him. "Let's get drunk and do it in a Raptor," she suggests, and he grins and tosses her a salute before he follows her out of the room.