Ficlet : Promises Lost
Title: Promises Lost
Author: Daybreak
Characters: Kara/Lee
Word Count: 1638 words
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Scene from Scar, spoilers up to that episode
Beta: Wonderful job done by dionusia, remaining mistakes are all mine
Summary: What was the point of living, when you didn’t know why you were worth saving?
Author’s Note: I come bearing smut! Yay! I hope you’ve had a great week and have enjoyed our little stories. There were many prompts some of which I think got in there. They are listed at the end. Enjoy!
He threw things off the table with one hand and she hopped up. One swish and her underwear was off, her bottom cold on the table and she didn’t care. His mouth was hers again, and she needed him now, now, now. It felt similar to a viper fight, adrenaline sweeping along her nerves with the ambrosia like fire.
Fortunately Lee was quick, stripping his own underwear off while she shoved her bra up. Ah, bare chest to hers, and with a swift movement he was there inside, deep, on the first stroke filling her and making her forget Sam’s face. Finally. He withdrew and she rose up to meet him as he pushed forward, her back arching like a bow. Gods it was good, so good, she felt a whoosh as he withdrew again.
“Kara,” he was saying in her ear and she squeaked as he made a twisting motion within her. She came right there, breath stolen from her chest so she couldn’t even scream. Lee was good, damn good, and he wasn’t finished yet, bringing her legs up and sinking deeper.
“Gods,” she grunted out. All the gods, Apollo included, this was good, she thought, bringing his head up to hers, pulling his hair. He pushed back, banging her head on the table, tongue filling her mouth as his movements inside triggered tiny shudders in her.
He tasted like the alcohol, sweet and tangy, and suddenly she wanted more of it, much more of it and him. It was hard and fast, but not hard enough. A tiny part of her wanted him to hurt her, to make her feel something, damn it, and she pulled his hair harder before he pulled back to stare at her.
His eyes were dark and deep, slightly puzzled, but far too gone to figure out the mystery. Something in her leapt in response to that look. Hungry, possessive. But he seemed surprised at her, like he was trying to figure her out in the midst of his desire. Don’t think, don’t think, she asked silently, the building storm inside her receding a little. Please. Thankfully, he just bent his head to her neck and ground further inside and she began to come again, harder.
“Lee!” It was a shout, his name forced from her throat. “Lee, Lee, Lee, LEE!” He bit her neck sharply and there she went, crashing up into his hips. Yes, yes, yes, she twisted her head back and forth and he just kept moving against a sensitive the spot he shouldn’t know about, but damn him he did. He dragged himself against it over and over as she writhed and twisted until she could only pant his name. “Lee, Lee, Lee.” She was almost crying it.
With one final thrust he let go, groaning into her neck and holding her tightly, until they both stopped moving. Stay close Lee, she thought, and for a while he did, just leaning on her as they both breathed as one.
Then her legs began to go numb and she realized she was feeling cold so she pushed at his shoulders. He leaned up and off and she didn’t understand the look he gave her. She must look a sight. Bra up over her breasts, her socks still on.
She sat up and pulled her bra down and looked for her tanks and underwear. She didn’t care that he stared at her as he sat on the bunk.
That was what she had needed, she thought, stepping into her underwear, legs shaky. She could still feel him, though. Damn, he was good. She glanced at him again. He was looking very pale.
“What?”
“I . . . I . . .” She would have been amused except Lee looked so stricken. He hadn’t even gotten dressed yet.
“You what? You were good.” She didn’t get it, as she reached in her locker and pulled out another bottle of ambrosia. Her voice was still slightly hoarse from shouting his name, and she had to concentrate on walking, yet he had doubts? He reached for her arm and pulled her next to him on the bunk.
“What . . . what was that?” He sounded as bewildered as she felt.
That was great sex, she thought. But he still looked hurt or guilty or something. A part of her wanted to soothe him, touch him gently, but then she remembered Sam and shut that part of herself down. No. Not another one.
“I’m not sorry.” She pulled her t-shirt over her head and took another swig of ambrosia. She offered it to him and he shook his head.
“We weren’t drunk.”
“No. Not drunk enough.” She swigged again. “Don’t freak out, Lee. People have sex all the time.” She glanced at the table.” Even on that table.” He was looking at her strangely.
“Something’s wrong. You’re not . . . right.” Kara felt herself go cold. Oh no. Not talking, not now. Shut up, Lee. He placed his hand on the back her neck, rubbing the bare space between her neck and her shirt.
“What is it, Kara? What are you trying to hard to forget that you’d . . . you’d . . .?”
She shrugged out from his touch and stood up.
“That I’d frak you? Why’s it so hard to believe? You’re attractive and like I said, you’re good. Always knew you would be.” She was babbling quickly. No real talking, no.
He stood up too. Still naked, damn him, he pulled her against her, removing the bottle from her hand and placing it on the table. She shook her head. No, no.
But he held her head in his hand and stopped its shaking. She was beginning to tremble and felt stinging behind her eyes. No.
He leaned in and she was glad to kiss him again, maybe they could give it another go. But this time he gentled it, barely any tongue, just this sucking on her lips that made her knees go weak and want to cling to him. As if she ever clung, but when he lifted his head she was still shaking. He was naked as the day he was born, and though practically dressed, she was the one trembling. He just held his hand on her nape again, rubbing, soothing. He waited.
“I . . . I . . . I.” The words came unwillingly, she hated talking but with him holding her she found the words tumbling out, unbidden.
“I killed him,” she said into his chest. Lee kept rubbing her neck; his voice didn’t change, save growing a bit quieter.
“Who?”
“A man I met. He . . . he fell in love with me. I promised . . .” She felt Lee’s body stiffen slightly. Exactly as she had thought. I will only hurt you, Lee. She pulled back to look at him.
“And I lied. It’s what I do. I promise to stay and I don’t. I promise to come back and I . . . I don’t.” Lee’s hand found the lone dog tag around her neck.
“You gave him this?”
She nodded, waiting for him to finally push her away so she could get back to the business of getting drunk. It would happen. She knew Lee. He would never be content with being second. He drew in a sharp intake of breath.
“Were you in love with him?” She shook her head, the catch in his voice rendering her honest.
“I don’t know.” Lee did release her then, and began to get dressed. She finished dressing too.
“I told you,” she said, zipping her pants. She reached for the bottle again and his hand covered hers.
“That’s enough,” he said firmly.
Who was he to say when was enough? She opened he mouth to say it but froze at the look in his eyes. Yes, hurt there was there, and something else. Patience?
He looked into her eyes and smoothed the hair from her face. He took a deep breath.
“Do you know if he’s really dead? You don’t, do you? Either way, is this what he’d want from you? Is this what you think anyone who loves you would want?”
She looked at him sharply, utterly at a loss now. Where was the jealousy? Why wasn’t he calling her out on sleeping around? But he didn’t. He just kissed her forehead, and only then did she recognize the emotion coming off him. Lee cared. He cared about her even though she’d just frakked him and confessed to possibly loving someone else. Gods, she was a nightmare. But no, he was kissing her gently on her forehead, like she was his sister, and like her neck wasn’t still smarting from his bite there, as if she hadn’t seen that dark, possessive look that meant he wanted her to be his alone. He was burying that inside him somewhere, and a part of her mourned it. But that was Lee, all about the greater good. Always too good for her.
“Get some rest,” he said. “You’ve got CAP in the morning.”
That was right, Scar, she thought as he left. Lee cared, Sam had cared, Zak . . . it wasn’t enough. Why? Why did they care about her? The old man had been right. What was the point of living, when you didn’t know why you were worth saving? When you couldn’t wash your hands from the things you had done. Or had not done.
Too much thinking. Damn Lee. She curled up and lay back in the bunk, fully dressed, and set her alarm. But she didn’t sleep. She didn’t sleep at all, the feel of Lee wrapped around her and the cadence of Sam’s voice in her head, keeping her up through the night.
prompts: holding, biting, arch, taste
Author: Daybreak
Characters: Kara/Lee
Word Count: 1638 words
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Scene from Scar, spoilers up to that episode
Beta: Wonderful job done by dionusia, remaining mistakes are all mine
Summary: What was the point of living, when you didn’t know why you were worth saving?
Author’s Note: I come bearing smut! Yay! I hope you’ve had a great week and have enjoyed our little stories. There were many prompts some of which I think got in there. They are listed at the end. Enjoy!
He threw things off the table with one hand and she hopped up. One swish and her underwear was off, her bottom cold on the table and she didn’t care. His mouth was hers again, and she needed him now, now, now. It felt similar to a viper fight, adrenaline sweeping along her nerves with the ambrosia like fire.
Fortunately Lee was quick, stripping his own underwear off while she shoved her bra up. Ah, bare chest to hers, and with a swift movement he was there inside, deep, on the first stroke filling her and making her forget Sam’s face. Finally. He withdrew and she rose up to meet him as he pushed forward, her back arching like a bow. Gods it was good, so good, she felt a whoosh as he withdrew again.
“Kara,” he was saying in her ear and she squeaked as he made a twisting motion within her. She came right there, breath stolen from her chest so she couldn’t even scream. Lee was good, damn good, and he wasn’t finished yet, bringing her legs up and sinking deeper.
“Gods,” she grunted out. All the gods, Apollo included, this was good, she thought, bringing his head up to hers, pulling his hair. He pushed back, banging her head on the table, tongue filling her mouth as his movements inside triggered tiny shudders in her.
He tasted like the alcohol, sweet and tangy, and suddenly she wanted more of it, much more of it and him. It was hard and fast, but not hard enough. A tiny part of her wanted him to hurt her, to make her feel something, damn it, and she pulled his hair harder before he pulled back to stare at her.
His eyes were dark and deep, slightly puzzled, but far too gone to figure out the mystery. Something in her leapt in response to that look. Hungry, possessive. But he seemed surprised at her, like he was trying to figure her out in the midst of his desire. Don’t think, don’t think, she asked silently, the building storm inside her receding a little. Please. Thankfully, he just bent his head to her neck and ground further inside and she began to come again, harder.
“Lee!” It was a shout, his name forced from her throat. “Lee, Lee, Lee, LEE!” He bit her neck sharply and there she went, crashing up into his hips. Yes, yes, yes, she twisted her head back and forth and he just kept moving against a sensitive the spot he shouldn’t know about, but damn him he did. He dragged himself against it over and over as she writhed and twisted until she could only pant his name. “Lee, Lee, Lee.” She was almost crying it.
With one final thrust he let go, groaning into her neck and holding her tightly, until they both stopped moving. Stay close Lee, she thought, and for a while he did, just leaning on her as they both breathed as one.
Then her legs began to go numb and she realized she was feeling cold so she pushed at his shoulders. He leaned up and off and she didn’t understand the look he gave her. She must look a sight. Bra up over her breasts, her socks still on.
She sat up and pulled her bra down and looked for her tanks and underwear. She didn’t care that he stared at her as he sat on the bunk.
That was what she had needed, she thought, stepping into her underwear, legs shaky. She could still feel him, though. Damn, he was good. She glanced at him again. He was looking very pale.
“What?”
“I . . . I . . .” She would have been amused except Lee looked so stricken. He hadn’t even gotten dressed yet.
“You what? You were good.” She didn’t get it, as she reached in her locker and pulled out another bottle of ambrosia. Her voice was still slightly hoarse from shouting his name, and she had to concentrate on walking, yet he had doubts? He reached for her arm and pulled her next to him on the bunk.
“What . . . what was that?” He sounded as bewildered as she felt.
That was great sex, she thought. But he still looked hurt or guilty or something. A part of her wanted to soothe him, touch him gently, but then she remembered Sam and shut that part of herself down. No. Not another one.
“I’m not sorry.” She pulled her t-shirt over her head and took another swig of ambrosia. She offered it to him and he shook his head.
“We weren’t drunk.”
“No. Not drunk enough.” She swigged again. “Don’t freak out, Lee. People have sex all the time.” She glanced at the table.” Even on that table.” He was looking at her strangely.
“Something’s wrong. You’re not . . . right.” Kara felt herself go cold. Oh no. Not talking, not now. Shut up, Lee. He placed his hand on the back her neck, rubbing the bare space between her neck and her shirt.
“What is it, Kara? What are you trying to hard to forget that you’d . . . you’d . . .?”
She shrugged out from his touch and stood up.
“That I’d frak you? Why’s it so hard to believe? You’re attractive and like I said, you’re good. Always knew you would be.” She was babbling quickly. No real talking, no.
He stood up too. Still naked, damn him, he pulled her against her, removing the bottle from her hand and placing it on the table. She shook her head. No, no.
But he held her head in his hand and stopped its shaking. She was beginning to tremble and felt stinging behind her eyes. No.
He leaned in and she was glad to kiss him again, maybe they could give it another go. But this time he gentled it, barely any tongue, just this sucking on her lips that made her knees go weak and want to cling to him. As if she ever clung, but when he lifted his head she was still shaking. He was naked as the day he was born, and though practically dressed, she was the one trembling. He just held his hand on her nape again, rubbing, soothing. He waited.
“I . . . I . . . I.” The words came unwillingly, she hated talking but with him holding her she found the words tumbling out, unbidden.
“I killed him,” she said into his chest. Lee kept rubbing her neck; his voice didn’t change, save growing a bit quieter.
“Who?”
“A man I met. He . . . he fell in love with me. I promised . . .” She felt Lee’s body stiffen slightly. Exactly as she had thought. I will only hurt you, Lee. She pulled back to look at him.
“And I lied. It’s what I do. I promise to stay and I don’t. I promise to come back and I . . . I don’t.” Lee’s hand found the lone dog tag around her neck.
“You gave him this?”
She nodded, waiting for him to finally push her away so she could get back to the business of getting drunk. It would happen. She knew Lee. He would never be content with being second. He drew in a sharp intake of breath.
“Were you in love with him?” She shook her head, the catch in his voice rendering her honest.
“I don’t know.” Lee did release her then, and began to get dressed. She finished dressing too.
“I told you,” she said, zipping her pants. She reached for the bottle again and his hand covered hers.
“That’s enough,” he said firmly.
Who was he to say when was enough? She opened he mouth to say it but froze at the look in his eyes. Yes, hurt there was there, and something else. Patience?
He looked into her eyes and smoothed the hair from her face. He took a deep breath.
“Do you know if he’s really dead? You don’t, do you? Either way, is this what he’d want from you? Is this what you think anyone who loves you would want?”
She looked at him sharply, utterly at a loss now. Where was the jealousy? Why wasn’t he calling her out on sleeping around? But he didn’t. He just kissed her forehead, and only then did she recognize the emotion coming off him. Lee cared. He cared about her even though she’d just frakked him and confessed to possibly loving someone else. Gods, she was a nightmare. But no, he was kissing her gently on her forehead, like she was his sister, and like her neck wasn’t still smarting from his bite there, as if she hadn’t seen that dark, possessive look that meant he wanted her to be his alone. He was burying that inside him somewhere, and a part of her mourned it. But that was Lee, all about the greater good. Always too good for her.
“Get some rest,” he said. “You’ve got CAP in the morning.”
That was right, Scar, she thought as he left. Lee cared, Sam had cared, Zak . . . it wasn’t enough. Why? Why did they care about her? The old man had been right. What was the point of living, when you didn’t know why you were worth saving? When you couldn’t wash your hands from the things you had done. Or had not done.
Too much thinking. Damn Lee. She curled up and lay back in the bunk, fully dressed, and set her alarm. But she didn’t sleep. She didn’t sleep at all, the feel of Lee wrapped around her and the cadence of Sam’s voice in her head, keeping her up through the night.
prompts: holding, biting, arch, taste