BSG: Straight Downward Falling (Kara/Lee)
I make no apologies, but I'm blaming queenofthorns for this. Just on principle.
Title: Straight Downward Falling
Author: voleuse
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Ship: Kara/Lee
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: The rushing amorous contact high in space together.
Notes: S1, no spoilers
Throughout the daily cycle, the barracks are typically empty, despite the number of pilots sharing the room. Between shifts, off-duty time, and the constant preparation for attack, the barracks are often the last place to locate a pilot.
Which is exactly why Kara forgoes the current card game and heads to her bunk when she finally goes off-duty. She doesn't need any more clothing, anyway, and nobody's staked their cigars. She'd rather have some alone time than a quarter bottle of ambrosia.
As she hoped, the room is deserted when she gets there, and there's no sign of anyone in the adjoining rooms, either.
Grinning at empty air, she sheds her jacket and trousers, tossing them to the bottom of her locker. She lies down on her bed in her tank top and shorts, stretches luxuriously, raising her arms and letting the hem of her tank top ride up.
The cool air brushes against her skin, and she shuts her eyes, runs her fingers lightly over her abdomen. And again, and her flesh prickles at the touch, so she slides her hand lower, and lower.
When her fingers finally dip between her legs, she's already wet, it's been so long, and she's been wanting to do this for days.
She slides, twists, and thinks, deliberately, of nothing except the feel of this.
*
After Lee finishes his patrol, he watches over Cally's shoulder for a couple minutes, pointing out where he noticed some misalignment. He doesn't have anything to report to CIC, so he heads back to the barracks, instead.
He's considering a shower, loosening his collar, when he hears a quiet noise, coming from the barracks.
He slows, mere feet from the barracks' entrance, listening.
Then, again, a low sound. Almost a moan, and it sounds like--
"Kara?" Worried, he steps into the room, and freezes at the scene before him.
*
"Gods."
The epithet, almost a hiss, distracts Kara, prompts her to open her eyes.
Standing in the doorway is Lee, his jacket unfastened partway, and his eyes wide.
She thinks, vaguely, that she should be embarrassed, should mind that he's standing there, gawking, while she's doing this.
But she isn't, and she doesn't.
So she keeps going.
*
Her tank top is hitched up on one side, high but not very, and her left hand clutches the blanket she's lying on.
Her other hand is, gods, he can't even see it, but her arm is snaked under her waistband, and he can almost, almost discern the shifting outline of her hand beneath the fabric.
He drags his gaze up to her face, to the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and he remembers he shouldn't be standing here.
"Kara," he murmurs, "I should--" He starts to turn, but she laughs, breathlessly, and he can't help but stare as her tongue flicks against the corner of her mouth.
"Lee," she begins, "do you really--"
But she interrupts herself, gasps sharply, her neck arching back, her body arching up, her left hand scrabbling at the blanket.
Her entire body shudders, writhes, and Lee's mouth goes completely dry.
It's over in moments, but it seems like hours, and when Kara finally reclines back on the bed, he blinks hard, and tries to put together a sentence.
Any attempts at coherence, however, are defeated when Kara grins at him, then slowly, tortuously licks the fingers of her right hand. She tugs her clothes back in order, and swings out of her bunk.
She sways toward him, halts a foot away, and looks at him sidelong. "I'm going to take a shower," she drawls. "It looks like you could use some time alone."
"I--" Lee frowns. "What?"
Kara turns her head, looks him directly in the eye, then lowers her gaze pointedly.
Lee hopes he isn't blushing.
She claps him on the shoulder as she passes him. "Take your time."
Then she's gone.
Lee lets out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, and thinks he won't need much time at all.
*
Kara strips off the remainder of her clothes, steps under the hot spray of the showerhead. She braces her hands against the wall, and laughs, and laughs.
###
A/N: Title and summary taken from Walt Whitman's The Dalliance Of The Eagles.
Originally linked here and linked to beyond_insane.
Title: Straight Downward Falling
Author: voleuse
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Ship: Kara/Lee
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: The rushing amorous contact high in space together.
Notes: S1, no spoilers
Throughout the daily cycle, the barracks are typically empty, despite the number of pilots sharing the room. Between shifts, off-duty time, and the constant preparation for attack, the barracks are often the last place to locate a pilot.
Which is exactly why Kara forgoes the current card game and heads to her bunk when she finally goes off-duty. She doesn't need any more clothing, anyway, and nobody's staked their cigars. She'd rather have some alone time than a quarter bottle of ambrosia.
As she hoped, the room is deserted when she gets there, and there's no sign of anyone in the adjoining rooms, either.
Grinning at empty air, she sheds her jacket and trousers, tossing them to the bottom of her locker. She lies down on her bed in her tank top and shorts, stretches luxuriously, raising her arms and letting the hem of her tank top ride up.
The cool air brushes against her skin, and she shuts her eyes, runs her fingers lightly over her abdomen. And again, and her flesh prickles at the touch, so she slides her hand lower, and lower.
When her fingers finally dip between her legs, she's already wet, it's been so long, and she's been wanting to do this for days.
She slides, twists, and thinks, deliberately, of nothing except the feel of this.
*
After Lee finishes his patrol, he watches over Cally's shoulder for a couple minutes, pointing out where he noticed some misalignment. He doesn't have anything to report to CIC, so he heads back to the barracks, instead.
He's considering a shower, loosening his collar, when he hears a quiet noise, coming from the barracks.
He slows, mere feet from the barracks' entrance, listening.
Then, again, a low sound. Almost a moan, and it sounds like--
"Kara?" Worried, he steps into the room, and freezes at the scene before him.
*
"Gods."
The epithet, almost a hiss, distracts Kara, prompts her to open her eyes.
Standing in the doorway is Lee, his jacket unfastened partway, and his eyes wide.
She thinks, vaguely, that she should be embarrassed, should mind that he's standing there, gawking, while she's doing this.
But she isn't, and she doesn't.
So she keeps going.
*
Her tank top is hitched up on one side, high but not very, and her left hand clutches the blanket she's lying on.
Her other hand is, gods, he can't even see it, but her arm is snaked under her waistband, and he can almost, almost discern the shifting outline of her hand beneath the fabric.
He drags his gaze up to her face, to the smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and he remembers he shouldn't be standing here.
"Kara," he murmurs, "I should--" He starts to turn, but she laughs, breathlessly, and he can't help but stare as her tongue flicks against the corner of her mouth.
"Lee," she begins, "do you really--"
But she interrupts herself, gasps sharply, her neck arching back, her body arching up, her left hand scrabbling at the blanket.
Her entire body shudders, writhes, and Lee's mouth goes completely dry.
It's over in moments, but it seems like hours, and when Kara finally reclines back on the bed, he blinks hard, and tries to put together a sentence.
Any attempts at coherence, however, are defeated when Kara grins at him, then slowly, tortuously licks the fingers of her right hand. She tugs her clothes back in order, and swings out of her bunk.
She sways toward him, halts a foot away, and looks at him sidelong. "I'm going to take a shower," she drawls. "It looks like you could use some time alone."
"I--" Lee frowns. "What?"
Kara turns her head, looks him directly in the eye, then lowers her gaze pointedly.
Lee hopes he isn't blushing.
She claps him on the shoulder as she passes him. "Take your time."
Then she's gone.
Lee lets out the breath he hadn't known he was holding, and thinks he won't need much time at all.
*
Kara strips off the remainder of her clothes, steps under the hot spray of the showerhead. She braces her hands against the wall, and laughs, and laughs.
###
A/N: Title and summary taken from Walt Whitman's The Dalliance Of The Eagles.
Originally linked here and linked to beyond_insane.