Pornbattle Drabbles
Tiger Balm, Bumps and Callsign
Lee/Helo, Helo/Kara, Kara/HotDog
Rated R
Tiger Balm
Written for LJ bsg_pornbattle 2009
Prompt: Lee/Helo, hamstring
Rated R
Helo was lifting, smooth and easy, feeling the slow burn, when Lee Adama screamed and went down, clutching at his leg. He rolled, groaning in agony, fingers digging in and Helo was moving to help, just missing his own foot as he downed the weights. He pinned Lee with one hand and batted the CAG’s fingers off his own leg, grabbing the spasming muscle and digging in. Adama went mostly still, teeth ground together and breath whistling as Helo used both hands on the knot in his thigh.
“Any better?” Helo asked, bearing down with his thumbs and full weight on the twisted muscle.
“Frak, Agathon. Feels like being shot.” Lee gritted, trying to flex his toes and help Helo.
“Try and relax. You’d think with all the algae, we wouldn’t cramp up; it’s pretty potassium heavy.” Helo kneaded hard, big hands pressing into the center of the problem spot, and Lee thought about sobbing like a little girl, but toughed it out through the pain, sucking breath through clenched teeth until the agony eased.
Helo kept up the massage, working out the cramp and the surrounding tension, working his way up to Lee’s lower back and then down again. Adama was limp under his hands, and Helo didn’t mind continuing. With the exception of Racetrack, the younger Adama was the most overstrung person in the service. He vibrated like a tuning fork, and everyone under him got nervy too, except for Helo. His mother’d said he was born calm.
Lee let out a long-held breath. “Thanks, Helo.” He went limp onto the mat-covered floor and let Helo’s firm hands dig into his taut shoulders.
“Going to pay me back?” Helo teased, circling his thumbs at the base of Lee’s neck, and grinning at the sound of the CAG’s echoing groan of pleasure. He straddled the smaller man’s back to apply more pressure to the mess that was the back of his shoulder blades, trying not to rest his weight and squash the Admiral’s son like a bug.
Lee’s voice was muffled in the crook of his arm. “You won’t crush me. Or go ahead and crush me. Just don’t stop.”
“Bribe me,” Helo said, amused at the puddle of goo Lee Adama was becoming.
He wasn’t expecting the sudden movement from underneath, and as Lee rolled, he fell to one side, catching himself on knee and forearm face to face with the bluest pair of eyes in the Fleet. Lee’s elbow knocked Helo’s out from under him and then his tongue was in Helo’s mouth and his free hand was attacking the ties to Helo’s loose gym pants. He flipped Helo onto his back and straddled him in return, sucking on Helo’s tongue with a naked hunger, pinning the bigger man’s hands above his head and grasping firmly through the thin knit fabric. “Out of uniform, Agathon. Regs say briefs in the gym.”
Helo laughed, but lost his ability to speak as clever hands and mouth stroked him hard. Lee Adama was grinding into him like a Picon stripper, and each flex of his hips made it harder for Helo to think of all the very good reasons they shouldn’t be doing this, at least not here. Then again, a good officer followed orders….
He got his hands free and clamped both of them tightly to Lee’s ass, adding pressure and controlling his movement. “Slow it down, Apollo. Take a little time.”
“Can’t wait,” Lee panted, “Have a meeting with Showboat in half an hour. Hurry.” He grunted and picked up speed and rhythm, dropping his head to Helo’s shoulder and driving them both.
Helo let him take control, let the rush build at the base of his own spine and take him up and over as Apollo went bowstring taut and gasped against his neck. Lee collapsed onto Helo’s body, heaving in great gulps of air.
Sweat ran off both of them freely, dampening the mats as Helo pulled Lee to his feet, wiping his face with his tanks. He reached down and dug his fingers into the back of Adama’s leg. “Still good?”
Blue eyes flashed and Lee stepped into him and ground. “Paid back yet?”
Helo let his eyes close lazily. “Might need another workout. How long’s that meeting?”
Bumps
Written for LJ bsg_pornbattle 2009
Prompt: Kara/Helo, sex in the cockpit
Rated R
“Godsdamnit, Kara!” Helo nurses his elbow, not sure if that or his knee is hurting more. He’s not made for this. He’s too big, and while in some cases size is an asset (Kara’s not complaining) he’s turning into a collection of bumps and dents.
Kara reaches up and grabs his pouting lower lip between her teeth. “You’re the one who had to be on top, Helo.”
Callsign
Written for LJ bsg_pornbattle 2009
Prompt: HotDog/Kara, more than a frak
Rated R
Her ass is stuck to the briefing desk, and the fake wood is giving out threatening groans. She can see the plaque for Vampire squadron and very little else. He’s thrusting into her slowly, his long face intent, his eyes focused on hers. He hasn’t looked away, and the steady regard makes her squirm inside. She’s not used to not being able to hide. Her flightsuit’s around her feet, and his is simply unzipped. She can’t get her legs all the way apart, and the sensation’s amazing. Something about him is hitting every spot she has, and even though she’s never considered him sexy, or even really male, just a nugget, this is turning into one of the best fraks she’s ever had.
He’s steady, in both his rhythm and his approach to flying. His callsign’s wrong. He’s not reckless, he’s controlled, and measured, and he’s…gods. One hand is digging into her hip, tilting her so he can go deeper and higher, and his other hand is between them, stroking into the creases of her, trailing wet fingers against both of them as he moves.
Slick. He’s slick, and hot, and she drops her head back, offering him her mouth, but he smiles and rakes his teeth over her throat instead, marking her. He’s been hers since he began on Galactica, but right now, right here, she’s his.