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fic: bsg porn battle, Too Hot to Handle, Kat/Doral
disclaimer: not mine
pairing: Kat/Aaron Doral
rating: NC17, sex, pwp
set: between You Can't Go Home Again and Litmus. Vaguely references The Plan in the first paragraph.
length: too long for a comment.
notes: Yeah, idk, either. But then again, Kat does like to get laid after a good CAP. prompt 'my mistake'. ALSO. Typing 'teal' was very hard as I kept auto-typing it as Teal'c.
Too Hot to Handle
by ALC Punk!
Teal. One acted as though teal didn't make all the difference, and it was pissing the Five who still called himself Aaron Doral off. Sulking and angry, he stalked through the halls of the Galactica, head down and not watching where he was going.
Which was how he collided the pilot, his hands catching her and steadying them both automatically even as she swore at him and he swore back.
"Hey!" She was brown-haired and cute, eyes snapping at him with fire. "Watch where you're going, jackass."
"Are you saying it was my mistake?" Unsettled and angry still, Doral refused to back down. A part of him was reeling, asking how he thought he could toe to toe with the pilot, who looked like she'd just come from killing his brethren, her flight suit half-open and sweat on her face.
The pilot stepped into his space, "Think you bit off more than you can chew, Civvie." Her eyes weren't just angry, there was something more there, some intense, human energy.
He could smell the sweat now, and reached out to touch her lips with his fingertips, half-curious, half-angry. "Yeah?" He was remembering the Sixes, the way sex was hard-wired into them and the thought of the pilot on her knees in front of him sent a rush of blood away from his brain.
She smirked. "That what this is? You get dared to find a pilot to frak? Prove how much of a man you are?" Her voice lowered and she shoved at him, sending him backwards, the heat of her body following him. "Gonna tell 'em how you were on your knees givin' head until you passed out?"
That image wasn't hot, or it was hot in a different way, and he swallowed. "That's not why--"
But then again, maybe she was right.
She laughed, the sound full of edges, that energy still spilling off of her. "Just lucky for you I need this." Her hand flattened over his groin, and her smile got wider. "That's a thought you like, Civvie. That's good. Gonna need this hard for me."
Doral was confused when she turned away from him and started walking. "Where are you going?"
"Like you care." There was a challenge in her voice. Are you man enough?
Of course he wasn't. Still, anger and a disgust for humans made him go after her, hands grabbing her arms and slamming her up against the wall. She pushed back into him, her ass pressing into his groin. "My name is Aaron," he rasped, suddenly filled with the desire to frak her. To follow-through on her teasing and make her come for him, prove he was good for something. "Not Civvie."
She laughed, turning her head to look at him. "Tough words. You better back 'em up with something more than humping my ass."
"Frak you," he snapped, letting her go and turning her, sliding easily between her legs, knowing she could feel his penis through her flight suit, by now. "Gonna make you say it."
He was a little disturbed how fast he was picking up her speech patterns.
"You can try, baby," she smirked at him, then leaned her head forward and licked his mouth. "We better find someplace not in the open, though. The Old Man still locks people up for public indecency."
They found an empty head a few corridors away, and the pilot shucked her boots outside the hatch, shoved him inside, and spun the wheel, locking them in. "You still wanna make your mark, big mouth?"
Aaron grabbed for her, backing her into the wall next to the hatch and yanked the zipper on her flight suit the rest of the way down. "Your name," he demanded, hands pulling at her tanks, baring her skin to him, and making his mouth go dry. God. Humans could be attractive. Who knew?
"Oh, you'll remember my name," she body-checked him, sliding away, pulling her tanks and bra over her head. "It's Kat, big mouth. You'll be screaming it soon."
He got his hands on her breasts from behind and licked her neck, following the taste of her sweat around to one side, thumbs pressing into her nipples. They hardened under his touch, and he remembered half a dozen encounters via his brothers that gave him more ideas on how to please himself, how to make this pilot beg for him.
"Get naked," Kat shoved her elbow into him, though her voice was a little breathless.
They both stripped, Doral stumbling a little when he got his pants down, since he'd forgotten to take his shoes off, first. But he managed not to fall over, and got his shirt and jacket and pants folded neatly and draped over one of the benches so they wouldn't wrinkle too badly.
"You do that with your undies, too, Aaron?"
He just dropped them, not bothering with folding. Underwear never kept the creases well enough, anyway. Wrapping a hand around his penis, he looked at her, taking in the curves of her body. She was so different from the Sixes and Eights his brethren had known (communal memories weren't as close as his own, but they gave a good standard).
"Get over here and put that thing to work, unless you're too frakkin' chicken."
Angry again, he moved, finding her meeting him half-way, her nails scraping his sides as he lifted her, shoving her against a row of lockers, only barely remembering not to break her human body. His hand slid between her legs, and he was surprised at how wet she was--those shared memories were telling him it took a lot more foreplay. But Sixes and Eights were pristine, sweet, they weren't dirty and human, impatient for it all to be over as fast as possible.
"C'mon, Aaron," she growled, scraping her nails along his back, snaking one around, and grabbing for his penis. "Put that cock to some use, or get the frak out of here."
Grabbing for her hands, he pinned them over her head, breathing hard without having done a damned thing. "Shut up," he suggested, kissing her savagely.
She returned the kiss in kind, her teeth scraping his lips, that energy he'd seen in her pulsing against his skin. But she didn't try to struggle free of his grasp, apparently not caring, or enjoying it.
Humans were odd.
Trying to thrust into her, he missed, instead sliding against her slick flesh and making her laugh at him. "You're shit at this already."
He thrust again, but there was only the friction of hair and wet skin and the smirk on her lips.
"Might need a hand, big mouth. My pussy ain't gonna wait forever, though." She brought up one leg, curling it around his waist and pulling him in closer.
Third time was not a charm.
She was laughing, "I need to draw a bullseye for your dick?"
It almost made him admit he'd never done this before. But instead, he shifted his grip, putting both her wrists in one hand and reaching down, guiding himself in, groaning at how tight she was, clamping around him, all wet, white-hot heat.
"Yeah, baby, that's it."
She was loud in her encouragement, obviously getting off on the noise as much as the movement of their bodies, gyrating her hips until he was moving at a frantic pace, gasping and moaning. The energy was spilling off of her onto him, covering his skin with something he couldn't name or understand.
Pleasure tugged at his body.
It hadn't been like this before. He was sweating and moaning, teeth and mouth on her neck and breasts, hand still holding hers above her head as he drove in and out of her, making the lockers creak.
Doral came unexpectedly, grunting and going limp almost immediately.
"Frak," she wheezed as he sagged against her, "Thought you had more stamina--"
"I--"
She tugged her hands free, putting them on his shoulders, "You're gonna fix that. Now." Somehow, she got him away from the lockers and on his knees as she sat on a bench, her legs spread. "Your dick is worthless, how's your tongue?"
Aaron knew how to do that, too. In theory. He found his head bending, his hands pushing her legs wider. Then he teased her with his thumbs before he leaned in, licking her from bottom to top. Closing his eyes, he did it again, listening as she gave directions, ideas, sound when he got it right, and sharp tugs on his head when he didn't.
There wasn't a lot of hair for her to grab, but she managed.
The taste of her (of him), was something he couldn't describe, but the feeling of power, as he built her up and then let her slide back down a little, then built her up again, was something he wouldn't trade for the end of the human race. He was making her gasp and tremble, curse and moan, until it was all too much and she climaxed, her thighs trying to clamp closed, her hips pushing up into his mouth.
"Gods, big mouth." Her voice was barely loud enough to be heard. "Frak me."
He lifted his head and wiped his hand across his mouth. "Next time, you scream my name."
"Ain't gonna happen, Aaron."
But she was giving him an interestingly speculative look.
He shrugged and stood up, moving to the sinks and beginning to wash himself clean.
She was different, now, most of that energy burned-off and gone. Kat didn't get up from the bench, watching him lazily, "Run into me again sometime," she suggested.
Doral dried his hands, then pulled his clothing back on before answering. "Yeah, i don't think so."
After all, she was human, and she should be dead. But she was something he planned to remember, for a long time.
-f-
pairing: Kat/Aaron Doral
rating: NC17, sex, pwp
set: between You Can't Go Home Again and Litmus. Vaguely references The Plan in the first paragraph.
length: too long for a comment.
notes: Yeah, idk, either. But then again, Kat does like to get laid after a good CAP. prompt 'my mistake'. ALSO. Typing 'teal' was very hard as I kept auto-typing it as Teal'c.
Too Hot to Handle
by ALC Punk!
Teal. One acted as though teal didn't make all the difference, and it was pissing the Five who still called himself Aaron Doral off. Sulking and angry, he stalked through the halls of the Galactica, head down and not watching where he was going.
Which was how he collided the pilot, his hands catching her and steadying them both automatically even as she swore at him and he swore back.
"Hey!" She was brown-haired and cute, eyes snapping at him with fire. "Watch where you're going, jackass."
"Are you saying it was my mistake?" Unsettled and angry still, Doral refused to back down. A part of him was reeling, asking how he thought he could toe to toe with the pilot, who looked like she'd just come from killing his brethren, her flight suit half-open and sweat on her face.
The pilot stepped into his space, "Think you bit off more than you can chew, Civvie." Her eyes weren't just angry, there was something more there, some intense, human energy.
He could smell the sweat now, and reached out to touch her lips with his fingertips, half-curious, half-angry. "Yeah?" He was remembering the Sixes, the way sex was hard-wired into them and the thought of the pilot on her knees in front of him sent a rush of blood away from his brain.
She smirked. "That what this is? You get dared to find a pilot to frak? Prove how much of a man you are?" Her voice lowered and she shoved at him, sending him backwards, the heat of her body following him. "Gonna tell 'em how you were on your knees givin' head until you passed out?"
That image wasn't hot, or it was hot in a different way, and he swallowed. "That's not why--"
But then again, maybe she was right.
She laughed, the sound full of edges, that energy still spilling off of her. "Just lucky for you I need this." Her hand flattened over his groin, and her smile got wider. "That's a thought you like, Civvie. That's good. Gonna need this hard for me."
Doral was confused when she turned away from him and started walking. "Where are you going?"
"Like you care." There was a challenge in her voice. Are you man enough?
Of course he wasn't. Still, anger and a disgust for humans made him go after her, hands grabbing her arms and slamming her up against the wall. She pushed back into him, her ass pressing into his groin. "My name is Aaron," he rasped, suddenly filled with the desire to frak her. To follow-through on her teasing and make her come for him, prove he was good for something. "Not Civvie."
She laughed, turning her head to look at him. "Tough words. You better back 'em up with something more than humping my ass."
"Frak you," he snapped, letting her go and turning her, sliding easily between her legs, knowing she could feel his penis through her flight suit, by now. "Gonna make you say it."
He was a little disturbed how fast he was picking up her speech patterns.
"You can try, baby," she smirked at him, then leaned her head forward and licked his mouth. "We better find someplace not in the open, though. The Old Man still locks people up for public indecency."
They found an empty head a few corridors away, and the pilot shucked her boots outside the hatch, shoved him inside, and spun the wheel, locking them in. "You still wanna make your mark, big mouth?"
Aaron grabbed for her, backing her into the wall next to the hatch and yanked the zipper on her flight suit the rest of the way down. "Your name," he demanded, hands pulling at her tanks, baring her skin to him, and making his mouth go dry. God. Humans could be attractive. Who knew?
"Oh, you'll remember my name," she body-checked him, sliding away, pulling her tanks and bra over her head. "It's Kat, big mouth. You'll be screaming it soon."
He got his hands on her breasts from behind and licked her neck, following the taste of her sweat around to one side, thumbs pressing into her nipples. They hardened under his touch, and he remembered half a dozen encounters via his brothers that gave him more ideas on how to please himself, how to make this pilot beg for him.
"Get naked," Kat shoved her elbow into him, though her voice was a little breathless.
They both stripped, Doral stumbling a little when he got his pants down, since he'd forgotten to take his shoes off, first. But he managed not to fall over, and got his shirt and jacket and pants folded neatly and draped over one of the benches so they wouldn't wrinkle too badly.
"You do that with your undies, too, Aaron?"
He just dropped them, not bothering with folding. Underwear never kept the creases well enough, anyway. Wrapping a hand around his penis, he looked at her, taking in the curves of her body. She was so different from the Sixes and Eights his brethren had known (communal memories weren't as close as his own, but they gave a good standard).
"Get over here and put that thing to work, unless you're too frakkin' chicken."
Angry again, he moved, finding her meeting him half-way, her nails scraping his sides as he lifted her, shoving her against a row of lockers, only barely remembering not to break her human body. His hand slid between her legs, and he was surprised at how wet she was--those shared memories were telling him it took a lot more foreplay. But Sixes and Eights were pristine, sweet, they weren't dirty and human, impatient for it all to be over as fast as possible.
"C'mon, Aaron," she growled, scraping her nails along his back, snaking one around, and grabbing for his penis. "Put that cock to some use, or get the frak out of here."
Grabbing for her hands, he pinned them over her head, breathing hard without having done a damned thing. "Shut up," he suggested, kissing her savagely.
She returned the kiss in kind, her teeth scraping his lips, that energy he'd seen in her pulsing against his skin. But she didn't try to struggle free of his grasp, apparently not caring, or enjoying it.
Humans were odd.
Trying to thrust into her, he missed, instead sliding against her slick flesh and making her laugh at him. "You're shit at this already."
He thrust again, but there was only the friction of hair and wet skin and the smirk on her lips.
"Might need a hand, big mouth. My pussy ain't gonna wait forever, though." She brought up one leg, curling it around his waist and pulling him in closer.
Third time was not a charm.
She was laughing, "I need to draw a bullseye for your dick?"
It almost made him admit he'd never done this before. But instead, he shifted his grip, putting both her wrists in one hand and reaching down, guiding himself in, groaning at how tight she was, clamping around him, all wet, white-hot heat.
"Yeah, baby, that's it."
She was loud in her encouragement, obviously getting off on the noise as much as the movement of their bodies, gyrating her hips until he was moving at a frantic pace, gasping and moaning. The energy was spilling off of her onto him, covering his skin with something he couldn't name or understand.
Pleasure tugged at his body.
It hadn't been like this before. He was sweating and moaning, teeth and mouth on her neck and breasts, hand still holding hers above her head as he drove in and out of her, making the lockers creak.
Doral came unexpectedly, grunting and going limp almost immediately.
"Frak," she wheezed as he sagged against her, "Thought you had more stamina--"
"I--"
She tugged her hands free, putting them on his shoulders, "You're gonna fix that. Now." Somehow, she got him away from the lockers and on his knees as she sat on a bench, her legs spread. "Your dick is worthless, how's your tongue?"
Aaron knew how to do that, too. In theory. He found his head bending, his hands pushing her legs wider. Then he teased her with his thumbs before he leaned in, licking her from bottom to top. Closing his eyes, he did it again, listening as she gave directions, ideas, sound when he got it right, and sharp tugs on his head when he didn't.
There wasn't a lot of hair for her to grab, but she managed.
The taste of her (of him), was something he couldn't describe, but the feeling of power, as he built her up and then let her slide back down a little, then built her up again, was something he wouldn't trade for the end of the human race. He was making her gasp and tremble, curse and moan, until it was all too much and she climaxed, her thighs trying to clamp closed, her hips pushing up into his mouth.
"Gods, big mouth." Her voice was barely loud enough to be heard. "Frak me."
He lifted his head and wiped his hand across his mouth. "Next time, you scream my name."
"Ain't gonna happen, Aaron."
But she was giving him an interestingly speculative look.
He shrugged and stood up, moving to the sinks and beginning to wash himself clean.
She was different, now, most of that energy burned-off and gone. Kat didn't get up from the bench, watching him lazily, "Run into me again sometime," she suggested.
Doral dried his hands, then pulled his clothing back on before answering. "Yeah, i don't think so."
After all, she was human, and she should be dead. But she was something he planned to remember, for a long time.
-f-
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And he TOTALLY folds his clothes, yes. lol.
And also, hot.
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*wins* I knew he would! He is just like that, ys.
Thank you =D
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There was not enough of either of them in canon. Sigh.