ShAgathon fic: (newBSG), Not Quite a Sucker, 18+
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Rating: 18+ sex, language, alchol.
Set: pre-series. Spoilers for the mini?
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Karl Agathon, references Sharon/Karl, Sharon/Chief, Kara/OC
Length: 2,600+
genre: pwp
Prompt: Kara/Helo, 'whatever floats your boat'
Notes: This is for the Helo ShAgathon, specifically for brightest_blue. The masterlist can be found here. Title thankfully ganked from The Offspring.
Not Quite a Sucker
by ALC Punk!
They're drunk. Kara thinks it's the best excuse ever for putting an ice cube down the back of Helo's shirt--not that she needs one. In fact, Kara has gone on record as saying that excuses are for whussies, and the day Starbuck needs one is the day she better be dead.
It's worth the ice he chucks at her for the girly shriek he lets out before he controls himself. The ice misses her by a frakkin' mile, and she snickers and dodges away from his grasp. "Too slow."
He lunges again, not losing the lollipop between his lips.
This time, her dodge doesn't take the surrounding geography into account and Kara stumbles over the barstool behind her and goes toppling to the floor, landing on her ass while Helo takes one look at her and doubles over with laughter.
"You'll get yours, Agathon," she threatens, pretty sure that the damp seeping into her trousers is beer.
"You and what army, Thrace?" He taunts before snickering again. "Really graceful there. Just goes to show, you might be hot shit in the air, but you suck at being on ground."
"C'mere and find out," suggests Kara as she gathers herself, one hand pressing against the floor--and getting soaked for its pains.
"Nope. Not stupid."
Kara snickers and drags herself upright, ignoring the twinge of pain from her backside, "Now there's a fallacy if I ever heard one."
"Big word, Kara. Did you fall into a dictionary?"
"No, you stupid frakker, I didn't." Kara snickers at the very idea and nearly falls over again when the stool inexplicably moves before she can put a hand on it. At least, she thinks it moves.
It's Picon, but the bar isn't bad. Correction: the several bars that the contingent on leave from Galactica went to haven't been bad. Kara lost track of the others hours ago, and she thinks Sharon and Chief ended up in some motel where you pay by the hour, but she's not drunk enough to actually say that to Karl. Not yet, at least. Chuckles ran off with some local girl who probably charged by the minute, and she's hazy on who else came down, though she's got a suspicion that Colonel Tigh was in charge of them all.
A rather sober spaceport officer sticks his head into the bar and shouts that the last shuttle is heading back to Galactica. Kara grabs for her glass, misses, and then gets it on the second try.
"Hey, that's us," Helo says suddenly. He nudges her, nearly knocking her over.
Kara jabs him in the side with her elbow, and laughs, "Yeah. Heard. Still drinking."
"Ah-ah--" Helo grabs the glass from her and keeps her from jabbing him again as he expertly wheels them around and starts for the door, "Your bartab will be here next time, Kara."
"No." Trying to resist, Kara nevertheless finds herself being removed from the bar--Karl may be dumb, but he's bigger than her. And he didn't try matching her shot for shot (she remembers, dimly, that Dizzy did, and the idiot nugget had been sent back hours before, puking her guts out), otherwise he'd be under a table. Probably. "Wanna stay to watch the pyramid game," Kara tries, in a burst of creativity.
"The game ended five hours ago, Starbuck." says Helo, amused.
"Instant replays?"
He chuckles and doesn't let her distract him from walking them both down the street to the spaceport.
Along the way, Kara tries to persuade him into two bars, but he remains firm, finally arriving and stepping inside the large glass and steel building and heading for the military gates. The shuttle to Galactica is already beginning to do pre-flight checks when they arrive.
Helo waves a hand, "Got two last passengers!"
A balding head appears in the doorway, "About time you got here." Colonel Tigh says, tone rude.
Kara waves a hand at him lazily, "Didja get to see your wife, sir?"
He ignores her and looks at Helo, "Keep her mouth shut, or you'll both be in the brig for insubordination."
"Would that be before or--" Helo's hand over her mouth stops the rest of her statement.
Kara attempts to bite him, which keeps her occupied until they're seated at the back, as far away from Tigh as they can get. Retrieving his now nipped fingers, Helo shakes his head mournfully, "Alas, poor Starbuck, I knew her well. She was a pilot of immense bravado, and far too much mouthiness for her own good." He finishes the lollipop and tucks the stick in its wrapper to dispose of later.
"Frak you," she mutters, slumping back into the seat.
"What happened to the eloquence?" Enjoying himself, Helo grins cheerfully at her before strapping them both in before the shuttle takes off.
"It disappeared with my ambrosia," Starbuck says, closing her eyes and ignoring him.
Still grinning, and deciding he needs a nap, Karl gets comfortable in his seat and is out before the shuttle even takes off.
-
Helo wakes from his nap, shakes his head to clear it and finds Kara snoring next to him. The shuttle pilot's voice crackles over the speaker, "About to land, everyone hold tight." They settle with a bump that could have been smoother, and Karl wonders if the man flying them had a few to drink before he took off.
With a stretch, he nudges Starbuck, "We're home."
She snorts sleepily and opens one hazel eye, regarding him balefully. "You smell like beer."
"Nah, that's you. Your ass was soaked, earlier."
"Shit." She shifts, hand disappearing behind her back, and strains against the restraining belt a moment before cursing again. "It is me. Damn."
"You smell like a brewery, Starbuck."
"Better than smellin' like Dizzy," she points out, hitting the release for her restraints and standing before the hatch opens.
The shuttle lurches as it settles on the hangar deck, and Tigh is up and dogging the hatch open a moment later. "Everybody out!" He shouts, waking more than a few of the drunken soldiers.
A meandering, stumbling group makes its way out of the shuttle and Helo follows, hand on Kara's arm to keep her mostly steady. She shoves him occasionally, as they walk down the corridor to the bunk room. He doesn't shove back, pretty certain she'd fall and damage something vital.
"Need a shower," Kara informs him suddenly before pulling away and walking into the room they're passing.
It's not the head, it's a disused storage locker. Helo sighs. "Kara, this isn't the right place for a shower."
"Shut the frak up, Helo," she mutters, stripping her shirts off and dropping them in a crumpled heap. She glances at him, and Karl's suddenly very uncertain about how drunk she is. Her eyes are clear and dark as she looks at him. "Strip," she orders him.
"Nice foreplay."
"Frak foreplay." Her bra gets thrown at him and she stops. "Unless you're too drunk? Can't get it up, Agathon?" She taunts him, walking towards him, breasts bouncing with every step.
There's something about Starbuck, confident and half-naked, that hits Karl every time. Or, the times he's allowed to look, he amends as she stops in front of him. They've only done this twice, and he's not sure why she picks him, but he's ok with it. He's seen the creeps she sometimes ends up with, and he'd rather it was him.
"Thinkin' about Sharon, Karl?" Her voice is soft and taunting.
He breaks from his thoughts and stares at her, a little hurt, but understanding. Kara needs movement and action, she needs to feel invulnerable, even while she's demanding sex. His hands cup her face, and he shakes his head, "Nope. Just thinking about all the times I've seen you naked and completely ignored that fact."
"Mmm." Her hands latch onto his shirt, yanking him against her. "Not ignoring it now, are you?"
"Nope." Almost lazily, he drags a finger down her throat to her shoulders.
"Helo. Focus." Her tone is mocking, "There are naked breasts for you to fondle. You guys like breasts. Could you, maybe, I don't know, play with them?"
"You like breasts, too," he retorts, remembering a lieutenant on Aerelon that had been brunette and hot as frak, and who Kara had ended up disappearing with for several hours before both women had returned looking flushed and smug. The memory is enough to make him smirk more as he moves a hand to cup one. "They are nice, though."
"They're fabulous," she agrees, arching into his touch.
"Yes, yes they are," Helo looks at them with appreciation, thumb brushing up against her hard nipple.
Kara's breath hitches and she pushes at him, "Pants off, Helo. And shirt, too, frak it." Before he has the chance to comply, she shoves her hand down the front of his trousers, fingers stroking his semi-erect penis. "Damn. Drink too much ambrosia, Karl?"
"Hey. It's been a long night," he defends, then groans as she strokes him just so.
"What do you need, Helo? Me on my knees, looking up at you before wrapping my lips around your dick?" Kara demands.
He twitches, the mental image doing almost as much as her hand is. "Shit, Kara--" He grabs the back of her neck and drags her mouth to his, bending and kissing her fiercely. She moans in approval and gives him a last stroke before pulling her hand free.
It's a race then. His mouth on hers, he works his pants and shorts free and shoves them down. Kara's hands grab the hem and yank further, exposing his ass to the slight chill in the air before her hand cups his balls. Karl pulls back and gets his shirt off in record time. Kara lets out an approving sound, mouth moving to his exposed shoulders as he gets her belt undone.
"Much better," Kara says before biting down hard enough to hurt. He grabs her waist and lifts her, moving and catching her between him and a shelf. It has to hurt, at least a little, but she doesn't seem to care as she arches against him. "Karl, my pants are still on."
"No biting," he informs her, glaring.
"Fine, fine, no biting." Her fingers dig into the muscles of his arms, "Can we get on with it? Gods, Karl, if I'd known--"
His lips shut her up, even though she keeps moving them in an attempt to complain.
They work together to get her pants open and down one leg, and she pulls back enough to tell him that her ass is now freezing, so he better frakking fix it. Karl pulls her back against him, tilting her slightly and feeling that she's already wet.
Without bothering to warn her, he thrusts, the movement pressing her back into the shelf.
"Frak." She exhales the curse and hits his shoulder with her fist, "A little warning next time!"
He pulls out, then back in, smirking when she exhales a little moan, "Thought you said frak foreplay?" he mocks, letting her shift. The angle changes and they both groan at his next thrust.
"Shut up."
Not bothering to answer, he quickens the pace at her urging. One thing he'll give Starbuck that the few other women he's been with haven't had: she gives direction without giving a shit about being nice about it. He had bruises for three days after their last encounter. Amused, and slightly vindictive, he thinks it'll be her turn for bruises, this time.
"Like that, yeah," she says, then she growls and her hand worms between them.
Helo's not actually sure there's room, but she manages, and he can feel her brushing her fingers over him as he thrusts in and pulls out, but that isn't her goal, and suddenly she's tightening around him.
Trying to hold her steady, he quickens the pace as well as he can.
"Thanks," she mutters before her back snaps tense and she's gone. The orgasm slackens all of her muscles, and Karl almost over-compensates for the loss of tension and has to grab the shelf to keep from falling over.
It's not exactly painful, but it's also not conducive to getting him off. Helo lifts her up slightly and lets himself slip free with a groan.
"Not done yet?" She demands lazily as he sets her on her feet. "Gods, Karl. Men are so annoying."
"I'll live," he says, hand stroking himself idly.
"No, no, no," shaking her head, Starbuck grabs his hand, "This would set a horrible precedent, Helo. On the floor."
He protests, because she's expecting it, and because he's been there before. "It's cold."
"Deal."
So he deals, grabbing his shirts and laying them out while she snickers and mocks his delicate sensibilities. This way, his ass isn't quite as cold as he sits down.
"You took way too long," Starbuck grumbles at him, dropping onto his lap and kissing him while her hand fumbles between them.
"Hey, you didn't tell me there was a timetable."
"Do you want to get off or not?"
He grabs her hips and pulls her down harder against him in answer.
Kara smirks, "Good."
They're kissing again, open-mouths, tangled tongues and clashing teeth when she shifts up a little and then slides down onto him. He gasps into her mouth at the sensation, and she laughs.
She's good at this, he thinks before his brain shuts down. It's hard not to wonder what it would be like to love her as more, to tangle his life with hers--and then harsh reality intrudes, and he knows they'd kill each other within a week. She isn't the kind of woman he'd settle for, and Kara won't ever settle.
Too much wild in her and too little wild in him, and he loses the train of thought when she twists her hips just so.
With his hands tight on her hips, he holds her still as he comes down.
"Took you long enough," she murmurs on a laugh.
"Hey."
She kisses him, almost gently, then pulls back in an attempt to stand.
Neither of them speak as he lets her go and she moves to her feet, walking away to get dressed. Helo takes his time catching his breath before he, too, scrambles to his feet. His half-removed pants almost trip him, and Starbuck cracks up while he stumbles.
He ignores her as he yanks them upwards. This is the part he always hates, and not because she'll walk out the door and pretend to forget this ever happened until the next time.
"Gods, you're an easy frak, Helo."
"Only for you, Starbuck," he returns, head still down as he deals with his button and zipper.
"Yeah, whatever," her voice becomes muffled by cloth, and he knows without looking up that her shirts are moving over her head as she continues, "you're easy, and I don't know how Boomer hasn't noticed this enough to take advantage of it."
Her walls are back up. He snorts, ignoring the jab and bends for his shirts, shaking them out and pleased that they're not messy. Mostly.
"Catch you later," she promises, boots in hand as she heads for the hatch.
Helo watches her open it, before calling softly, "Get some sleep, Kara."
Her hand flips at him in acknowledgment, but she doesn't answer vocally as she walks out.
A snicker escapes him, suddenly, as he remembers that her pants are still soaked in beer. Someone will probably mock her when she gets back to the bunk room. And that's more than enough for him.
-f-
Rating: 18+ sex, language, alchol.
Set: pre-series. Spoilers for the mini?
Pairing: Kara Thrace/Karl Agathon, references Sharon/Karl, Sharon/Chief, Kara/OC
Length: 2,600+
genre: pwp
Prompt: Kara/Helo, 'whatever floats your boat'
Notes: This is for the Helo ShAgathon, specifically for brightest_blue. The masterlist can be found here. Title thankfully ganked from The Offspring.
Not Quite a Sucker
by ALC Punk!
They're drunk. Kara thinks it's the best excuse ever for putting an ice cube down the back of Helo's shirt--not that she needs one. In fact, Kara has gone on record as saying that excuses are for whussies, and the day Starbuck needs one is the day she better be dead.
It's worth the ice he chucks at her for the girly shriek he lets out before he controls himself. The ice misses her by a frakkin' mile, and she snickers and dodges away from his grasp. "Too slow."
He lunges again, not losing the lollipop between his lips.
This time, her dodge doesn't take the surrounding geography into account and Kara stumbles over the barstool behind her and goes toppling to the floor, landing on her ass while Helo takes one look at her and doubles over with laughter.
"You'll get yours, Agathon," she threatens, pretty sure that the damp seeping into her trousers is beer.
"You and what army, Thrace?" He taunts before snickering again. "Really graceful there. Just goes to show, you might be hot shit in the air, but you suck at being on ground."
"C'mere and find out," suggests Kara as she gathers herself, one hand pressing against the floor--and getting soaked for its pains.
"Nope. Not stupid."
Kara snickers and drags herself upright, ignoring the twinge of pain from her backside, "Now there's a fallacy if I ever heard one."
"Big word, Kara. Did you fall into a dictionary?"
"No, you stupid frakker, I didn't." Kara snickers at the very idea and nearly falls over again when the stool inexplicably moves before she can put a hand on it. At least, she thinks it moves.
It's Picon, but the bar isn't bad. Correction: the several bars that the contingent on leave from Galactica went to haven't been bad. Kara lost track of the others hours ago, and she thinks Sharon and Chief ended up in some motel where you pay by the hour, but she's not drunk enough to actually say that to Karl. Not yet, at least. Chuckles ran off with some local girl who probably charged by the minute, and she's hazy on who else came down, though she's got a suspicion that Colonel Tigh was in charge of them all.
A rather sober spaceport officer sticks his head into the bar and shouts that the last shuttle is heading back to Galactica. Kara grabs for her glass, misses, and then gets it on the second try.
"Hey, that's us," Helo says suddenly. He nudges her, nearly knocking her over.
Kara jabs him in the side with her elbow, and laughs, "Yeah. Heard. Still drinking."
"Ah-ah--" Helo grabs the glass from her and keeps her from jabbing him again as he expertly wheels them around and starts for the door, "Your bartab will be here next time, Kara."
"No." Trying to resist, Kara nevertheless finds herself being removed from the bar--Karl may be dumb, but he's bigger than her. And he didn't try matching her shot for shot (she remembers, dimly, that Dizzy did, and the idiot nugget had been sent back hours before, puking her guts out), otherwise he'd be under a table. Probably. "Wanna stay to watch the pyramid game," Kara tries, in a burst of creativity.
"The game ended five hours ago, Starbuck." says Helo, amused.
"Instant replays?"
He chuckles and doesn't let her distract him from walking them both down the street to the spaceport.
Along the way, Kara tries to persuade him into two bars, but he remains firm, finally arriving and stepping inside the large glass and steel building and heading for the military gates. The shuttle to Galactica is already beginning to do pre-flight checks when they arrive.
Helo waves a hand, "Got two last passengers!"
A balding head appears in the doorway, "About time you got here." Colonel Tigh says, tone rude.
Kara waves a hand at him lazily, "Didja get to see your wife, sir?"
He ignores her and looks at Helo, "Keep her mouth shut, or you'll both be in the brig for insubordination."
"Would that be before or--" Helo's hand over her mouth stops the rest of her statement.
Kara attempts to bite him, which keeps her occupied until they're seated at the back, as far away from Tigh as they can get. Retrieving his now nipped fingers, Helo shakes his head mournfully, "Alas, poor Starbuck, I knew her well. She was a pilot of immense bravado, and far too much mouthiness for her own good." He finishes the lollipop and tucks the stick in its wrapper to dispose of later.
"Frak you," she mutters, slumping back into the seat.
"What happened to the eloquence?" Enjoying himself, Helo grins cheerfully at her before strapping them both in before the shuttle takes off.
"It disappeared with my ambrosia," Starbuck says, closing her eyes and ignoring him.
Still grinning, and deciding he needs a nap, Karl gets comfortable in his seat and is out before the shuttle even takes off.
-
Helo wakes from his nap, shakes his head to clear it and finds Kara snoring next to him. The shuttle pilot's voice crackles over the speaker, "About to land, everyone hold tight." They settle with a bump that could have been smoother, and Karl wonders if the man flying them had a few to drink before he took off.
With a stretch, he nudges Starbuck, "We're home."
She snorts sleepily and opens one hazel eye, regarding him balefully. "You smell like beer."
"Nah, that's you. Your ass was soaked, earlier."
"Shit." She shifts, hand disappearing behind her back, and strains against the restraining belt a moment before cursing again. "It is me. Damn."
"You smell like a brewery, Starbuck."
"Better than smellin' like Dizzy," she points out, hitting the release for her restraints and standing before the hatch opens.
The shuttle lurches as it settles on the hangar deck, and Tigh is up and dogging the hatch open a moment later. "Everybody out!" He shouts, waking more than a few of the drunken soldiers.
A meandering, stumbling group makes its way out of the shuttle and Helo follows, hand on Kara's arm to keep her mostly steady. She shoves him occasionally, as they walk down the corridor to the bunk room. He doesn't shove back, pretty certain she'd fall and damage something vital.
"Need a shower," Kara informs him suddenly before pulling away and walking into the room they're passing.
It's not the head, it's a disused storage locker. Helo sighs. "Kara, this isn't the right place for a shower."
"Shut the frak up, Helo," she mutters, stripping her shirts off and dropping them in a crumpled heap. She glances at him, and Karl's suddenly very uncertain about how drunk she is. Her eyes are clear and dark as she looks at him. "Strip," she orders him.
"Nice foreplay."
"Frak foreplay." Her bra gets thrown at him and she stops. "Unless you're too drunk? Can't get it up, Agathon?" She taunts him, walking towards him, breasts bouncing with every step.
There's something about Starbuck, confident and half-naked, that hits Karl every time. Or, the times he's allowed to look, he amends as she stops in front of him. They've only done this twice, and he's not sure why she picks him, but he's ok with it. He's seen the creeps she sometimes ends up with, and he'd rather it was him.
"Thinkin' about Sharon, Karl?" Her voice is soft and taunting.
He breaks from his thoughts and stares at her, a little hurt, but understanding. Kara needs movement and action, she needs to feel invulnerable, even while she's demanding sex. His hands cup her face, and he shakes his head, "Nope. Just thinking about all the times I've seen you naked and completely ignored that fact."
"Mmm." Her hands latch onto his shirt, yanking him against her. "Not ignoring it now, are you?"
"Nope." Almost lazily, he drags a finger down her throat to her shoulders.
"Helo. Focus." Her tone is mocking, "There are naked breasts for you to fondle. You guys like breasts. Could you, maybe, I don't know, play with them?"
"You like breasts, too," he retorts, remembering a lieutenant on Aerelon that had been brunette and hot as frak, and who Kara had ended up disappearing with for several hours before both women had returned looking flushed and smug. The memory is enough to make him smirk more as he moves a hand to cup one. "They are nice, though."
"They're fabulous," she agrees, arching into his touch.
"Yes, yes they are," Helo looks at them with appreciation, thumb brushing up against her hard nipple.
Kara's breath hitches and she pushes at him, "Pants off, Helo. And shirt, too, frak it." Before he has the chance to comply, she shoves her hand down the front of his trousers, fingers stroking his semi-erect penis. "Damn. Drink too much ambrosia, Karl?"
"Hey. It's been a long night," he defends, then groans as she strokes him just so.
"What do you need, Helo? Me on my knees, looking up at you before wrapping my lips around your dick?" Kara demands.
He twitches, the mental image doing almost as much as her hand is. "Shit, Kara--" He grabs the back of her neck and drags her mouth to his, bending and kissing her fiercely. She moans in approval and gives him a last stroke before pulling her hand free.
It's a race then. His mouth on hers, he works his pants and shorts free and shoves them down. Kara's hands grab the hem and yank further, exposing his ass to the slight chill in the air before her hand cups his balls. Karl pulls back and gets his shirt off in record time. Kara lets out an approving sound, mouth moving to his exposed shoulders as he gets her belt undone.
"Much better," Kara says before biting down hard enough to hurt. He grabs her waist and lifts her, moving and catching her between him and a shelf. It has to hurt, at least a little, but she doesn't seem to care as she arches against him. "Karl, my pants are still on."
"No biting," he informs her, glaring.
"Fine, fine, no biting." Her fingers dig into the muscles of his arms, "Can we get on with it? Gods, Karl, if I'd known--"
His lips shut her up, even though she keeps moving them in an attempt to complain.
They work together to get her pants open and down one leg, and she pulls back enough to tell him that her ass is now freezing, so he better frakking fix it. Karl pulls her back against him, tilting her slightly and feeling that she's already wet.
Without bothering to warn her, he thrusts, the movement pressing her back into the shelf.
"Frak." She exhales the curse and hits his shoulder with her fist, "A little warning next time!"
He pulls out, then back in, smirking when she exhales a little moan, "Thought you said frak foreplay?" he mocks, letting her shift. The angle changes and they both groan at his next thrust.
"Shut up."
Not bothering to answer, he quickens the pace at her urging. One thing he'll give Starbuck that the few other women he's been with haven't had: she gives direction without giving a shit about being nice about it. He had bruises for three days after their last encounter. Amused, and slightly vindictive, he thinks it'll be her turn for bruises, this time.
"Like that, yeah," she says, then she growls and her hand worms between them.
Helo's not actually sure there's room, but she manages, and he can feel her brushing her fingers over him as he thrusts in and pulls out, but that isn't her goal, and suddenly she's tightening around him.
Trying to hold her steady, he quickens the pace as well as he can.
"Thanks," she mutters before her back snaps tense and she's gone. The orgasm slackens all of her muscles, and Karl almost over-compensates for the loss of tension and has to grab the shelf to keep from falling over.
It's not exactly painful, but it's also not conducive to getting him off. Helo lifts her up slightly and lets himself slip free with a groan.
"Not done yet?" She demands lazily as he sets her on her feet. "Gods, Karl. Men are so annoying."
"I'll live," he says, hand stroking himself idly.
"No, no, no," shaking her head, Starbuck grabs his hand, "This would set a horrible precedent, Helo. On the floor."
He protests, because she's expecting it, and because he's been there before. "It's cold."
"Deal."
So he deals, grabbing his shirts and laying them out while she snickers and mocks his delicate sensibilities. This way, his ass isn't quite as cold as he sits down.
"You took way too long," Starbuck grumbles at him, dropping onto his lap and kissing him while her hand fumbles between them.
"Hey, you didn't tell me there was a timetable."
"Do you want to get off or not?"
He grabs her hips and pulls her down harder against him in answer.
Kara smirks, "Good."
They're kissing again, open-mouths, tangled tongues and clashing teeth when she shifts up a little and then slides down onto him. He gasps into her mouth at the sensation, and she laughs.
She's good at this, he thinks before his brain shuts down. It's hard not to wonder what it would be like to love her as more, to tangle his life with hers--and then harsh reality intrudes, and he knows they'd kill each other within a week. She isn't the kind of woman he'd settle for, and Kara won't ever settle.
Too much wild in her and too little wild in him, and he loses the train of thought when she twists her hips just so.
With his hands tight on her hips, he holds her still as he comes down.
"Took you long enough," she murmurs on a laugh.
"Hey."
She kisses him, almost gently, then pulls back in an attempt to stand.
Neither of them speak as he lets her go and she moves to her feet, walking away to get dressed. Helo takes his time catching his breath before he, too, scrambles to his feet. His half-removed pants almost trip him, and Starbuck cracks up while he stumbles.
He ignores her as he yanks them upwards. This is the part he always hates, and not because she'll walk out the door and pretend to forget this ever happened until the next time.
"Gods, you're an easy frak, Helo."
"Only for you, Starbuck," he returns, head still down as he deals with his button and zipper.
"Yeah, whatever," her voice becomes muffled by cloth, and he knows without looking up that her shirts are moving over her head as she continues, "you're easy, and I don't know how Boomer hasn't noticed this enough to take advantage of it."
Her walls are back up. He snorts, ignoring the jab and bends for his shirts, shaking them out and pleased that they're not messy. Mostly.
"Catch you later," she promises, boots in hand as she heads for the hatch.
Helo watches her open it, before calling softly, "Get some sleep, Kara."
Her hand flips at him in acknowledgment, but she doesn't answer vocally as she walks out.
A snicker escapes him, suddenly, as he remembers that her pants are still soaked in beer. Someone will probably mock her when she gets back to the bunk room. And that's more than enough for him.
-f-