013 - BSG: The Comfort of Strangers
Title: The Comfort of Strangers
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairings/Characters: Kara/ Lee , Mr. and Ex-Mrs. Adama make some appearances.
Rating: R for some sex.
Summary: A girl and a guy meet at a bar on the night of Zak’s funeral. Stuff happens. :) Lee’s POV.
Author’s Notes:Timeline is Pre-Mini, Slightly AU. Follows the day of Zak’s funeral. I also just want to point out that Kara and Lee don’t know each other in this fic, and have no idea who they are frakking. :) Yes, it’s a little morbid, but the plot bunny kept nibbling. This is officially my first (posted) BSG fic! Please leave feedback!
“Hi, I’m L-” he starts to say but she cuts him off with a kiss that startles him.
“No names,” she explains with a grin. “Tonight we’re just a girl and a guy who met in a bar.”
He nods at her in understanding, and he’s glad that they are on the same wavelength. Most girls want you to make small talk before getting down to business, and while he appreciates that option as well, he’s not going to say no to this beautiful, blonde in front of him.
---
His jacket is suffocating him and he wishes he could undo a few buttons, but he stands tall and hugs his mother tighter. Her sobs echo in his ears. He’s always hated hearing his mother cry, but it seems like the last few years of his life all he’s ever done is console his mother through her tears. She used to cry over his father being away so much, the loneliness breaking her down in such a way that made him hate his father.
He can’t even look at him now, standing on the opposite side of the casket. He hasn’t even shed a tear for Zak, and he hates him even more. What kind of a father doesn’t cry over his son’s death?
---
They crash into the hotel room, almost knocking over the vase of wildflowers by the door and he quiets her laughter with another kiss. She expertly unhooks his belt and tosses it behind her. Her shoes are next and then his and suddenly their both tumbling back into the large bed. Her mouth tastes like ambrosia and the faintest bit like tobacco and he thinks he likes that. Her dress falls to the floor in a pool beside his shoes and he can hear buttons popping somewhere. It takes him a full minute to realize that it’s his favourite shirt that she’s ripping off him, but he somehow doesn’t care.
All that matters is the way her half naked body feels on top of his, and how she sucks in a breath when he trails kisses down her throat.
---
“I’m not going back to Galactica, I can tell you that much,” he says bitterly and pours himself a glass of an expensive single malt.
“Son, I know you’re upset but -“ his father begins and he cuts him off angrily.
“But what, Dad? But you’re gonna force me? Is that it? Well, here’s an update. I’m not Zak. You can’t force me to do what you want. I’m staying on Caprica and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want!”
His father looks at him over the rim of his glasses but says nothing. He wishes he could punch that steely look off his face.
---
Her hands close over something by his neck and before he can stop her, she’s looking down at his dogtags in her hand.
“Apollo,” she whispers but before she can read out the rest of his name, he grabs the tags and yanks them off his neck. He lets the metal tags and chain drop to the wooden floor with a clank and turns her onto her back.
“No names, remember?” he reminds her and she grins widely up at him.
“No names,” she echoes and pulls him back down for a long, deep kiss.
He hooks his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulls them down slowly, wishing this night would never end.
---
“Don’t blame your father,” his mother sniffs as she retouches her make up.
“How can you, of all people, defend him?” he asks incredulously.
“Sweetie,” she says softly in a tone he hasn’t heard in ages. “Your father and I are divorced, but it doesn’t mean we still don’t love each other.”
“Dad doesn’t love anyone except himself. That’s what got Zak killed. He kept trying to get Dad’s approval, Dad’s love, and it got him killed. I can’t forgive him for that.”
She throws her lipstick back into her purse and turns off the powder room light and they both head back to the guests in the living room. She fixes her hat and pulls the black veil over her face. He wishes she would say something back, but she barely says another word for the rest of the night. She sits silently by herself on the couch and nods thankfully to guests as they offer their condolences.
---
He also wishes he was sober, or at least less drunk and he hopes that tomorrow he will remember all of this. She runs her hands down his back and rests them on his lower back as he tries desperately to steady himself above her. She’s humming a tune he doesn’t recognize and her eyes are half closed, enjoying the way his lips are pressing against her pulse in her throat.
She reaches between them and guides him into her. It’s slow and he only gets halfway before he pulls out and reaches for the unwrapped condom on the bed. She giggles slightly as they both attempted to roll it on, and after the third try she lets out a laugh and yells, “about frakking time”. He’s inside her again, this time all the way, and part of him wants to stay there forever, buried deep within this sexy stranger.
---
“Where do you think you’re going?” his father asks when all the guests have gone.
He stares at him for a moment before replying, “I’m not 15, Dad. I don’t need your permission to go out at night.”
In the kitchen, he can hear his mother’s muffled sobs and his father turns away from him to glance at her hunched over form by the sink. When he turns back around, his son is gone and he can hear the door slam shut in the foyer.
---
Her breath comes out in little puffs and murmurs along his skin. He pulls one of her legs up higher to get a better angle and it seems to work because now she’s swearing to the Gods and moaning incoherent sentences.
He quickens his pace because they are both so close and her voice is becoming louder and higher in pitch and he’s starting to feel the warmth coiling around him.
“Frak me!” she practically screams as she comes and he can’t help from grinning and wishing he had enough energy to say, ‘I just did’.
Instead he continues thrusting into her and suddenly he’s shuddering over her and he can’t see anything but bursts of light behind his eyelids. Her fingernails dig into his buttocks and the sensation is overwhelming.
---
He drives around Caprica City for three hours before turning into a parking lot and crossing the street towards a place that looks like it’s packed to the gills. Luckily he manages to slip in with the last group of people before the bouncer closes the gate and informs the others that the bar is at capacity and they will have to wait to get in.
The smoky atmosphere isn’t exactly welcoming, but he stifles a cough and heads to the bar and orders himself 4 shots of a blue liquid everyone else seems to be drinking and downs them one after another.
“My, my, my. A man after my own heart,” a voice says beside him.
He looks up and sees a beautiful woman grinning at him. She’s wearing a gold, shimmery dress that clings to her curves and matching 3-inch heels. He smiles back and for a second her smile falters and he can see something like pain in her eyes, but she shakes her head and grins again, her blonde, curled hair bouncing around her face.
“May I buy you a drink?” he offers and she nods and takes the seat next to him.
---
He rolls off her and buries his head in his pillow. Sleep is starting to creep over him and he reaches out to pull her to him. He touches nothing but sheets and air. He opens his eyes and sees her almost fully dressed.
She smiles down at him as she pulls on one of her gold sandals. He smiles back but he’s too exhausted to ask her to stay. She bends to grab her purse from the floor and comes up with his dogtags as well. This time he doesn’t have enough energy to swipe them away from her and she studies them for a moment before placing them gingerly on the nighttable. When she looks up at him, her eyes look hollow and her voice sounds broken and distant.
“Thanks, that was fun,” she whispers and he can see the bags under her eyes and how her shoulders are starting to slump. “I’ll let myself out.”
He wants to say something, anything. A compliment, a thank-you, a parting farewell, but nothing decent comes to mind. Instead, he grabs her wrist and pulls her down for one final kiss. She doesn’t resist but she’s slightly rigid against him and he silently wonders why. She pulls away and he can feel himself falling asleep with each click her heels make on the wooden floor.
His body feels heavy into the mattress and when she closes the door he thinks he hears her call out, “Goodnight, Lee,” but he can’t be sure.
---
He takes another sip of his drink, even though he knows he’s already far past drunk, and he really doesn’t need to drink anymore. The woman next to him is laughing hysterically at something he said, and he grins back at her, feeling light and almost happy. It’s been a while since he felt like this, especially not today.
“Oh my Gods, you kill me!” she laughs and throws her head back to finish her ambrosia.
She’s smiling again, but she has this predatory look on her face and he feels his pants getting a little tighter. “I feel like I know you,” she whispers and places a hand on his chest to brace herself.
“I think that’s the ambrosia talking.” He cocks his head to the side and his gaze flickers over her lips for the briefest second.
“Yeah, I know you’re just a stranger but I feel like I know you, you know?” Her face is serious as she says the words, but he snorts and she starts giggling again.
“Well we can fix that.” He holds out his hand and says in as serious voice he can muster, “Hi, I’m L-“ but he never finishes because her soft lips are on his and everything else dissolves around him.
Fandom: Battlestar Galactica
Pairings/Characters: Kara/ Lee , Mr. and Ex-Mrs. Adama make some appearances.
Rating: R for some sex.
Summary: A girl and a guy meet at a bar on the night of Zak’s funeral. Stuff happens. :) Lee’s POV.
Author’s Notes:Timeline is Pre-Mini, Slightly AU. Follows the day of Zak’s funeral. I also just want to point out that Kara and Lee don’t know each other in this fic, and have no idea who they are frakking. :) Yes, it’s a little morbid, but the plot bunny kept nibbling. This is officially my first (posted) BSG fic! Please leave feedback!
“Hi, I’m L-” he starts to say but she cuts him off with a kiss that startles him.
“No names,” she explains with a grin. “Tonight we’re just a girl and a guy who met in a bar.”
He nods at her in understanding, and he’s glad that they are on the same wavelength. Most girls want you to make small talk before getting down to business, and while he appreciates that option as well, he’s not going to say no to this beautiful, blonde in front of him.
---
His jacket is suffocating him and he wishes he could undo a few buttons, but he stands tall and hugs his mother tighter. Her sobs echo in his ears. He’s always hated hearing his mother cry, but it seems like the last few years of his life all he’s ever done is console his mother through her tears. She used to cry over his father being away so much, the loneliness breaking her down in such a way that made him hate his father.
He can’t even look at him now, standing on the opposite side of the casket. He hasn’t even shed a tear for Zak, and he hates him even more. What kind of a father doesn’t cry over his son’s death?
---
They crash into the hotel room, almost knocking over the vase of wildflowers by the door and he quiets her laughter with another kiss. She expertly unhooks his belt and tosses it behind her. Her shoes are next and then his and suddenly their both tumbling back into the large bed. Her mouth tastes like ambrosia and the faintest bit like tobacco and he thinks he likes that. Her dress falls to the floor in a pool beside his shoes and he can hear buttons popping somewhere. It takes him a full minute to realize that it’s his favourite shirt that she’s ripping off him, but he somehow doesn’t care.
All that matters is the way her half naked body feels on top of his, and how she sucks in a breath when he trails kisses down her throat.
---
“I’m not going back to Galactica, I can tell you that much,” he says bitterly and pours himself a glass of an expensive single malt.
“Son, I know you’re upset but -“ his father begins and he cuts him off angrily.
“But what, Dad? But you’re gonna force me? Is that it? Well, here’s an update. I’m not Zak. You can’t force me to do what you want. I’m staying on Caprica and I’m going to do whatever the hell I want!”
His father looks at him over the rim of his glasses but says nothing. He wishes he could punch that steely look off his face.
---
Her hands close over something by his neck and before he can stop her, she’s looking down at his dogtags in her hand.
“Apollo,” she whispers but before she can read out the rest of his name, he grabs the tags and yanks them off his neck. He lets the metal tags and chain drop to the wooden floor with a clank and turns her onto her back.
“No names, remember?” he reminds her and she grins widely up at him.
“No names,” she echoes and pulls him back down for a long, deep kiss.
He hooks his fingers under the waistband of her panties and pulls them down slowly, wishing this night would never end.
---
“Don’t blame your father,” his mother sniffs as she retouches her make up.
“How can you, of all people, defend him?” he asks incredulously.
“Sweetie,” she says softly in a tone he hasn’t heard in ages. “Your father and I are divorced, but it doesn’t mean we still don’t love each other.”
“Dad doesn’t love anyone except himself. That’s what got Zak killed. He kept trying to get Dad’s approval, Dad’s love, and it got him killed. I can’t forgive him for that.”
She throws her lipstick back into her purse and turns off the powder room light and they both head back to the guests in the living room. She fixes her hat and pulls the black veil over her face. He wishes she would say something back, but she barely says another word for the rest of the night. She sits silently by herself on the couch and nods thankfully to guests as they offer their condolences.
---
He also wishes he was sober, or at least less drunk and he hopes that tomorrow he will remember all of this. She runs her hands down his back and rests them on his lower back as he tries desperately to steady himself above her. She’s humming a tune he doesn’t recognize and her eyes are half closed, enjoying the way his lips are pressing against her pulse in her throat.
She reaches between them and guides him into her. It’s slow and he only gets halfway before he pulls out and reaches for the unwrapped condom on the bed. She giggles slightly as they both attempted to roll it on, and after the third try she lets out a laugh and yells, “about frakking time”. He’s inside her again, this time all the way, and part of him wants to stay there forever, buried deep within this sexy stranger.
---
“Where do you think you’re going?” his father asks when all the guests have gone.
He stares at him for a moment before replying, “I’m not 15, Dad. I don’t need your permission to go out at night.”
In the kitchen, he can hear his mother’s muffled sobs and his father turns away from him to glance at her hunched over form by the sink. When he turns back around, his son is gone and he can hear the door slam shut in the foyer.
---
Her breath comes out in little puffs and murmurs along his skin. He pulls one of her legs up higher to get a better angle and it seems to work because now she’s swearing to the Gods and moaning incoherent sentences.
He quickens his pace because they are both so close and her voice is becoming louder and higher in pitch and he’s starting to feel the warmth coiling around him.
“Frak me!” she practically screams as she comes and he can’t help from grinning and wishing he had enough energy to say, ‘I just did’.
Instead he continues thrusting into her and suddenly he’s shuddering over her and he can’t see anything but bursts of light behind his eyelids. Her fingernails dig into his buttocks and the sensation is overwhelming.
---
He drives around Caprica City for three hours before turning into a parking lot and crossing the street towards a place that looks like it’s packed to the gills. Luckily he manages to slip in with the last group of people before the bouncer closes the gate and informs the others that the bar is at capacity and they will have to wait to get in.
The smoky atmosphere isn’t exactly welcoming, but he stifles a cough and heads to the bar and orders himself 4 shots of a blue liquid everyone else seems to be drinking and downs them one after another.
“My, my, my. A man after my own heart,” a voice says beside him.
He looks up and sees a beautiful woman grinning at him. She’s wearing a gold, shimmery dress that clings to her curves and matching 3-inch heels. He smiles back and for a second her smile falters and he can see something like pain in her eyes, but she shakes her head and grins again, her blonde, curled hair bouncing around her face.
“May I buy you a drink?” he offers and she nods and takes the seat next to him.
---
He rolls off her and buries his head in his pillow. Sleep is starting to creep over him and he reaches out to pull her to him. He touches nothing but sheets and air. He opens his eyes and sees her almost fully dressed.
She smiles down at him as she pulls on one of her gold sandals. He smiles back but he’s too exhausted to ask her to stay. She bends to grab her purse from the floor and comes up with his dogtags as well. This time he doesn’t have enough energy to swipe them away from her and she studies them for a moment before placing them gingerly on the nighttable. When she looks up at him, her eyes look hollow and her voice sounds broken and distant.
“Thanks, that was fun,” she whispers and he can see the bags under her eyes and how her shoulders are starting to slump. “I’ll let myself out.”
He wants to say something, anything. A compliment, a thank-you, a parting farewell, but nothing decent comes to mind. Instead, he grabs her wrist and pulls her down for one final kiss. She doesn’t resist but she’s slightly rigid against him and he silently wonders why. She pulls away and he can feel himself falling asleep with each click her heels make on the wooden floor.
His body feels heavy into the mattress and when she closes the door he thinks he hears her call out, “Goodnight, Lee,” but he can’t be sure.
---
He takes another sip of his drink, even though he knows he’s already far past drunk, and he really doesn’t need to drink anymore. The woman next to him is laughing hysterically at something he said, and he grins back at her, feeling light and almost happy. It’s been a while since he felt like this, especially not today.
“Oh my Gods, you kill me!” she laughs and throws her head back to finish her ambrosia.
She’s smiling again, but she has this predatory look on her face and he feels his pants getting a little tighter. “I feel like I know you,” she whispers and places a hand on his chest to brace herself.
“I think that’s the ambrosia talking.” He cocks his head to the side and his gaze flickers over her lips for the briefest second.
“Yeah, I know you’re just a stranger but I feel like I know you, you know?” Her face is serious as she says the words, but he snorts and she starts giggling again.
“Well we can fix that.” He holds out his hand and says in as serious voice he can muster, “Hi, I’m L-“ but he never finishes because her soft lips are on his and everything else dissolves around him.