fic: BSG: if you can baby boy then we can go all night
Title: if you can baby boy then we can go all night
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairing: Sam/Lee
Rating: R
Disclaimers: AU, but isn't all my fic? ;) No spoilers to speak of, just sexin'. This isn't for profit, just for fun. All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a song of Rihanna's, which I also had nothing to do with, though I've been listening to Weep's version, because it rocks. I didn't have anything to do with that, either.
A/N: This is a prequel fic for a bsg_pornbattle fic which was Kara/Lee/Sam, and which you can read here if you're so inclined, but all you really need to know is that Kara, Lee and Sam are international thieves, and they have lots of sex. Thanks to leiascully for giving this the once-over.
It's a late night in Paris, and Sam and Lee are holed up in the hotel room they're sharing, splitting a round of celebratory drinks after another successful job, the only one they've pulled on their own since a heist two years ago in New York.
The whole affair has been strange, not least because they've had to pose as lovers, a first for the two of them. Usually they flip a coin and one of them goes with Kara, but with Kara off in the Caribbean, taking a break from thieving, there wasn't really another option, and Lee's felt on edge all afternoon, ever since Sam pushed him up against a wall and leaned in close to whisper that their target was crossing the street two blocks ahead. He's telling himself that he just imagined the sharp pull of desire, that Sam's eyes hadn't lingered on the line of Lee's jaw any longer than necessary to make their little show look authentic, that he wants Kara and only Kara and that Sam wants the same, but as the evening goes on and the pull toward Sam gets stronger, it's getting harder to convince himself that there's nothing here.
Sam tugs a bottle of spiced brandy out of his bag, screws off the top, and takes a quick swig. "Smooth," he says, nodding his head in approval. "You want some?"
As Lee looks at the broad grin on Sam's face to the long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, he can't help but feel that the question is about a lot more than the liquor, but for the moment he ignores it and reaches out to take the bottle. Their fingers slide together with a little more friction than is really necessary, and there it is again, that same tantalizing pull that tethers them both to Kara, keeps them coming back for more, for one more job, one more late-night celebratory fuck in the washroom of a train headed to Prague, one more wish for something better.
Lee tips the bottle back. Sam is right: the brandy goes down smooth, with no wicked kick at the end to make him wince with momentary regret, and he takes another shot before handing the bottle back to Sam.
They've polished off the bottle and they're working on the rest of Lee's Glenlivet when Sam flops back on the bed and sits on the remote, the sudden flash of the television startling them both. Sam idly flips through channels while Lee sips on his drink, and when the images on the screen turn from black-and-white movies to news reports to naked bodies, Sam looks over at Lee and just raises one questioning eyebrow.
"Are we really gonna get drunk and watch porn?" Lee laughs, and Sam just shrugs.
"Why the hell not?" Sam asks, but he's laughing, too. He thumps the space beside him on his bed. "C'mon. It's easier to share drinks if you're here."
Lee doesn't know if it's the drinks or the leftover adrenaline from the job or residual loneliness or something entirely different, but he says nothing, just accepts the flimsy excuse to share body heat with another person and slides into bed next to Sam, their shoulders bumping together. "You realize this makes us, like, a living stereotype," he points out, pouring more alcohol into Sam's glass.
"We just stole half a mil in gold bars," Sam says, taking the glass. "I'm okay with anything right now."
The people on the screen contort themselves into some impossible position, moaning and writhing against each other. Lee shifts uncomfortably on the bed and carefully positions his hand and glass in a way that he hopes will deflect attention away from his growing erection. A few minutes later, Sam makes a little grumbly noise, and Lee looks over to discover that Sam is in a similar situation but making no attempt to hide it. Lee takes another gulp from his glass and bats away the sudden thoughts of Sam's hand against his cock. He can feel his face heating from the idea alone, and the extra heat from Sam's body isn't making it better-- the guy is like a fucking furnace, and between the porn and the liquor Lee is feeling way too warm.
One of the people on the screen comes for what must be the third time in the last ten minutes, and Lee sighs a little more loudly than he had intended.
"This is stupid," Sam says, turning his head to look at Lee. "We might as well just go for it."
"What?" Lee laughs nervously, half-hoping that Sam wants the same thing that his body is telling him he wants, but not really wanting to give the game away, just in case Sam is talking about pulling off a drunken robbery of the Louvre instead of getting very naked, just like they each usually do with Kara at this point in a caper.
Sam gestures to the screen. "You wanna?"
"I don't think I can get my body to do that," Lee replies, but he leans into Sam as he says it, the alcohol wrapping his brain in a warm, fuzzy fog as he reaches over to cup the back of Sam's head with his free hand. He sees the smile curving up the corners of Sam's mouth just before their lips meet. The first kiss is slower, tentative, but the heat and need between them urges them to a faster pace, and Lee groans when Sam grabs a fistful of Lee's white button-down and pulls him closer. In their struggle to get closer to each other, one of them upends Lee's half-empty glass of Glenlivet, soaking Lee's trousers in alcohol.
"Dammit," Lee swears, but he shuts up when Sam gives him a devilish grin and reaches down to undo the clasp of Lee's trousers. Sam chuckles when Lee lets out a little hiss as Sam brushes the hard line of Lee's dick through his underwear. Sam teases him for just a minute, leaning over to stroke Lee with his tongue.
"Fuck," Lee says, his hand gripping the back of Sam's head, hips jerking up toward Sam's mouth.
"That's the idea," Sam grins, sliding down the bed and taking Lee's trousers with him. "C'mon."
"Where'd you go?" Lee mumbles, but he slips off the bed and stumbles over to Sam, their bodies sliding drunkenly together as Sam maneuvers them toward the bathroom. It's not a long distance to walk, but they have to stop every few feet to strip off another article of clothing, and they almost don't make it all after Sam shoves Lee up against the wall next to the bathroom door and wraps his hand around Lee's cock, stroking until Lee is wordlessly begging for more.
"My turn," Sam says, dragging Lee into the bathroom and turning the taps for the shower. He steps in and Lee follows without a question, desperate for Sam to finish what he's started. Sam kisses him roughly as the water cascades down onto them, and Lee presses his dick against Sam's hip and reaches between them to palm Sam's cock. Sam moans against his mouth and pushes Lee to his knees, leaning back so that the line of the water stays out of Lee's eyes. "Okay?" Sam asks, and for answer Lee grabs Sam's hips and takes Sam's cock into his mouth, no foreplay, no teasing strokes of his tongue, just as much of Sam as he can take. He regrets the alcohol now, wishes he had the sober precision of balance that he needs to suck Sam's dick and stroke himself at the same time, but he thinks if he tries it he'll just fall over, and he wants this too much to stop.
Sam keeps Lee on his knees for a few more moments, groaning as Lee works him over. "God, Lee, just like that," he moans, as Lee's tongue swirls over the head of his cock. "Fuck, c'mere." He leans back and tugs on Lee's arm, pulling him up and pressing their bodies together. Lee reaches down to stroke him and finds Sam's hand already there. "Yeah," Sam says softly, and together they bring him off, Sam slumping against Lee for just a moment before he turns his attention back to Lee.
"Want your mouth," Lee pleads, and Sam's on his knees before Lee can say another word, his warm mouth covering Lee's cock. It's strange, but even with all Lee's feelings for her, not once does he wish for it to be Kara's mouth on him, and Sam sucks him off like he knows exactly what Lee wants at this moment, that he wants it to be Sam's lips and Sam's tongue bringing him closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. He comes with a shudder and even with the heat of the water, he shivers when he feels Sam swallow around him.
"This was way better than New York," Lee says, when he can speak again.
"You wanna do it again?" Sam asks, reaching in to turn the water off and letting his hand slide casually across Lee's chest on the way back.
"Once more, with more feeling up," Lee jokes, and Sam just laughs and hands him a towel.
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Pairing: Sam/Lee
Rating: R
Disclaimers: AU, but isn't all my fic? ;) No spoilers to speak of, just sexin'. This isn't for profit, just for fun. All characters & situations belong to RDM, David Eick, Sci-Fi, NBC Universal and their various subsidiaries. Title from a song of Rihanna's, which I also had nothing to do with, though I've been listening to Weep's version, because it rocks. I didn't have anything to do with that, either.
A/N: This is a prequel fic for a bsg_pornbattle fic which was Kara/Lee/Sam, and which you can read here if you're so inclined, but all you really need to know is that Kara, Lee and Sam are international thieves, and they have lots of sex. Thanks to leiascully for giving this the once-over.
It's a late night in Paris, and Sam and Lee are holed up in the hotel room they're sharing, splitting a round of celebratory drinks after another successful job, the only one they've pulled on their own since a heist two years ago in New York.
The whole affair has been strange, not least because they've had to pose as lovers, a first for the two of them. Usually they flip a coin and one of them goes with Kara, but with Kara off in the Caribbean, taking a break from thieving, there wasn't really another option, and Lee's felt on edge all afternoon, ever since Sam pushed him up against a wall and leaned in close to whisper that their target was crossing the street two blocks ahead. He's telling himself that he just imagined the sharp pull of desire, that Sam's eyes hadn't lingered on the line of Lee's jaw any longer than necessary to make their little show look authentic, that he wants Kara and only Kara and that Sam wants the same, but as the evening goes on and the pull toward Sam gets stronger, it's getting harder to convince himself that there's nothing here.
Sam tugs a bottle of spiced brandy out of his bag, screws off the top, and takes a quick swig. "Smooth," he says, nodding his head in approval. "You want some?"
As Lee looks at the broad grin on Sam's face to the long fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle, he can't help but feel that the question is about a lot more than the liquor, but for the moment he ignores it and reaches out to take the bottle. Their fingers slide together with a little more friction than is really necessary, and there it is again, that same tantalizing pull that tethers them both to Kara, keeps them coming back for more, for one more job, one more late-night celebratory fuck in the washroom of a train headed to Prague, one more wish for something better.
Lee tips the bottle back. Sam is right: the brandy goes down smooth, with no wicked kick at the end to make him wince with momentary regret, and he takes another shot before handing the bottle back to Sam.
They've polished off the bottle and they're working on the rest of Lee's Glenlivet when Sam flops back on the bed and sits on the remote, the sudden flash of the television startling them both. Sam idly flips through channels while Lee sips on his drink, and when the images on the screen turn from black-and-white movies to news reports to naked bodies, Sam looks over at Lee and just raises one questioning eyebrow.
"Are we really gonna get drunk and watch porn?" Lee laughs, and Sam just shrugs.
"Why the hell not?" Sam asks, but he's laughing, too. He thumps the space beside him on his bed. "C'mon. It's easier to share drinks if you're here."
Lee doesn't know if it's the drinks or the leftover adrenaline from the job or residual loneliness or something entirely different, but he says nothing, just accepts the flimsy excuse to share body heat with another person and slides into bed next to Sam, their shoulders bumping together. "You realize this makes us, like, a living stereotype," he points out, pouring more alcohol into Sam's glass.
"We just stole half a mil in gold bars," Sam says, taking the glass. "I'm okay with anything right now."
The people on the screen contort themselves into some impossible position, moaning and writhing against each other. Lee shifts uncomfortably on the bed and carefully positions his hand and glass in a way that he hopes will deflect attention away from his growing erection. A few minutes later, Sam makes a little grumbly noise, and Lee looks over to discover that Sam is in a similar situation but making no attempt to hide it. Lee takes another gulp from his glass and bats away the sudden thoughts of Sam's hand against his cock. He can feel his face heating from the idea alone, and the extra heat from Sam's body isn't making it better-- the guy is like a fucking furnace, and between the porn and the liquor Lee is feeling way too warm.
One of the people on the screen comes for what must be the third time in the last ten minutes, and Lee sighs a little more loudly than he had intended.
"This is stupid," Sam says, turning his head to look at Lee. "We might as well just go for it."
"What?" Lee laughs nervously, half-hoping that Sam wants the same thing that his body is telling him he wants, but not really wanting to give the game away, just in case Sam is talking about pulling off a drunken robbery of the Louvre instead of getting very naked, just like they each usually do with Kara at this point in a caper.
Sam gestures to the screen. "You wanna?"
"I don't think I can get my body to do that," Lee replies, but he leans into Sam as he says it, the alcohol wrapping his brain in a warm, fuzzy fog as he reaches over to cup the back of Sam's head with his free hand. He sees the smile curving up the corners of Sam's mouth just before their lips meet. The first kiss is slower, tentative, but the heat and need between them urges them to a faster pace, and Lee groans when Sam grabs a fistful of Lee's white button-down and pulls him closer. In their struggle to get closer to each other, one of them upends Lee's half-empty glass of Glenlivet, soaking Lee's trousers in alcohol.
"Dammit," Lee swears, but he shuts up when Sam gives him a devilish grin and reaches down to undo the clasp of Lee's trousers. Sam chuckles when Lee lets out a little hiss as Sam brushes the hard line of Lee's dick through his underwear. Sam teases him for just a minute, leaning over to stroke Lee with his tongue.
"Fuck," Lee says, his hand gripping the back of Sam's head, hips jerking up toward Sam's mouth.
"That's the idea," Sam grins, sliding down the bed and taking Lee's trousers with him. "C'mon."
"Where'd you go?" Lee mumbles, but he slips off the bed and stumbles over to Sam, their bodies sliding drunkenly together as Sam maneuvers them toward the bathroom. It's not a long distance to walk, but they have to stop every few feet to strip off another article of clothing, and they almost don't make it all after Sam shoves Lee up against the wall next to the bathroom door and wraps his hand around Lee's cock, stroking until Lee is wordlessly begging for more.
"My turn," Sam says, dragging Lee into the bathroom and turning the taps for the shower. He steps in and Lee follows without a question, desperate for Sam to finish what he's started. Sam kisses him roughly as the water cascades down onto them, and Lee presses his dick against Sam's hip and reaches between them to palm Sam's cock. Sam moans against his mouth and pushes Lee to his knees, leaning back so that the line of the water stays out of Lee's eyes. "Okay?" Sam asks, and for answer Lee grabs Sam's hips and takes Sam's cock into his mouth, no foreplay, no teasing strokes of his tongue, just as much of Sam as he can take. He regrets the alcohol now, wishes he had the sober precision of balance that he needs to suck Sam's dick and stroke himself at the same time, but he thinks if he tries it he'll just fall over, and he wants this too much to stop.
Sam keeps Lee on his knees for a few more moments, groaning as Lee works him over. "God, Lee, just like that," he moans, as Lee's tongue swirls over the head of his cock. "Fuck, c'mere." He leans back and tugs on Lee's arm, pulling him up and pressing their bodies together. Lee reaches down to stroke him and finds Sam's hand already there. "Yeah," Sam says softly, and together they bring him off, Sam slumping against Lee for just a moment before he turns his attention back to Lee.
"Want your mouth," Lee pleads, and Sam's on his knees before Lee can say another word, his warm mouth covering Lee's cock. It's strange, but even with all Lee's feelings for her, not once does he wish for it to be Kara's mouth on him, and Sam sucks him off like he knows exactly what Lee wants at this moment, that he wants it to be Sam's lips and Sam's tongue bringing him closer and closer to the edge of oblivion. He comes with a shudder and even with the heat of the water, he shivers when he feels Sam swallow around him.
"This was way better than New York," Lee says, when he can speak again.
"You wanna do it again?" Sam asks, reaching in to turn the water off and letting his hand slide casually across Lee's chest on the way back.
"Once more, with more feeling up," Lee jokes, and Sam just laughs and hands him a towel.