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fic (porn battle), Booty Call, Kara/Sam, R
disclaimer: not mine
rating: R, sex, angst
pairing: Kara/Sam
set: pre-Unfinished Business, post-Torn
length: 1000 (too long for a comment)
notes: well, that went angstier than I'd planned.
prompt: turnabout is fair play
summary: Kara's not the only one who demands booty calls.
Booty Call
by ALC Punk!
It's the novelty. That's why she does it. Kara's barely back on the flight deck when one of the deckhands shoves a piece of paper at her. Seelix is gone before Kara can open the message some communications tech took down in CIC.
Need you. S.
Short and sweet, that's how she likes her own messages to Sam. Of course, hers are usually more Come frak. Now. with little subtlety. Sam's not supposed to ask for her to come see him, not supposed to remember that he has a claim on her in the same way she does on him. They're married, though Kara doesn't know what that means anymore (only that he's not around to remind her, and she doesn't wake with him cranky about early mornings next to her, and there's no nightmare moments where he sounds like Leoben and she drags her nails across his chest, blocking it out).
That's what she tells herself, as she boards the raptor shuttling people around. Racetrack barely glances at her then goes back to her pre-flight checks. Kara thinks about Sam and marriage, and how this is always just sex.
She's not going over to see him because she loves him. Love is a dangerous thing to even consider. She's going over because she's curious, because he hasn't ever asked her for sex. Hasn't really asked for anything since he handed back her tag (the tag hangs in her locker, something she taps before going out on CAP).
It's not that he doesn't want to. Even with their contact this frakked-up, casual frakking thing, she can tell he wants more. He'll nuzzle up under her chin, all gentle and Sam, but he doesn't ask.
Not yet.
It's the thing that scares the crap out of her, sometimes, when she's waiting for him to arrive, skin antsy with the desire to frak him, to bury her brain in the feel of his body (over and over until she's clawing at him, and he's hoarse with trying not to shout) inside of hers and around her. He wants more. She knows he does, and she can't open herself up again, can't even admit to herself that being open left her free for Leoben's lies (frakking with her until she couldn't tell which was up anymore).
Keeping him at arms' length, frakking him on her terms. That's how it works.
"Get really bored?" she asks him, even before she's jumped off the raptor. She's smug and arrogant, unsurprised that he was waiting (leaning up against a stack of crates like he's board out of his mind) for her. He's so prompt and predictable. She loves that about him.
"Yeah," he drawled in response, hands grabbing hers, turning, pressing her up against the stack before he kisses her.
There's something heavy in his kiss before she grabs his ass. It doesn't take long for them to leave the landing bay, to find a room that Sam mockingly says they have for an hour. Maybe two. Kara's half-naked before the hatch is closed, telling herself that being this turned on at him needing her is normal.
It's fast, electricity crackling under her fingertips, Sam's body keeping her trapped against a wall. Kara talks too much, nonsense that he finally stops with his mouth.
She can feel the seriousness again, the desperation that suddenly has him holding her so still she thinks he might break apart in her arms right then. If he says anything, she thinks she might run again. This was a mistake. Coming to him, pretending this was normal, was stupid. There are edges in the air, currents that stifle her, tighten her fingers on his shoulders.
When he starts again, slow, sure strokes that drive her insane, she keeps her mouth on his so he can't talk. Her fingers drag at his shoulders and arms, around to his back, down to his ass, and back up. Don't say anything.
Her climax is sharp, pulling her into the real world, and she curses, her head banging into the wall a little.
"Kara."
Grabbing for his face, she kisses him, her tongue echoing the movement of his cock inside of her until he shudders, going still and leaning into her.
For just a moment, she thinks about staying there. About cleaning up and following him back to his bunk, climbing in and spooning. Cuddling, the way they sometimes did on the cold nights of New Caprica. But the thought of waking up with him, that piercing familiar sweetness of morning breath and morning quickies, his fingers inside of her before she's awake enough to object (not that she would), is too much.
She pushes at his shoulder, "Getting cocky, huh?"
"Huh?" Following her shoves, he puts her down, stepping back.
A part of her aches at the loss of his touch. She tells it to frak off. This is better, no one gets hurt. "Calling me for a quickie, Sammy. Didn't think you had that in you."
He tosses her bra at her and shrugs, bending to collect his pants before he cleans himself with a towel. "I felt like exercising my rights."
"Asshole." The word trips easily off her tongue, and Kara shoves past him to get her underwear and shirts off the floor.
"Two years ago," he finally says, after they've dressed in silence and he's got the hatch open.
"What?"
"We lost forty people in a Cylon raid."
He's gone, striding down the corridor, and leaving her with the uncomfortable feeling of having been used. Swallowing, she wonders if this is how he feels, after he's arrived on Galactica like an unpaid hooker. She almost goes after him, almost asks about the raid, the people the resistance lost.
But this isn't her place anymore. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
The bleak thoughts follow her back to Galactica, chasing her down to Joe's and a succession of drinks that only let up at last call.
-f-
rating: R, sex, angst
pairing: Kara/Sam
set: pre-Unfinished Business, post-Torn
length: 1000 (too long for a comment)
notes: well, that went angstier than I'd planned.
prompt: turnabout is fair play
summary: Kara's not the only one who demands booty calls.
Booty Call
by ALC Punk!
It's the novelty. That's why she does it. Kara's barely back on the flight deck when one of the deckhands shoves a piece of paper at her. Seelix is gone before Kara can open the message some communications tech took down in CIC.
Need you. S.
Short and sweet, that's how she likes her own messages to Sam. Of course, hers are usually more Come frak. Now. with little subtlety. Sam's not supposed to ask for her to come see him, not supposed to remember that he has a claim on her in the same way she does on him. They're married, though Kara doesn't know what that means anymore (only that he's not around to remind her, and she doesn't wake with him cranky about early mornings next to her, and there's no nightmare moments where he sounds like Leoben and she drags her nails across his chest, blocking it out).
That's what she tells herself, as she boards the raptor shuttling people around. Racetrack barely glances at her then goes back to her pre-flight checks. Kara thinks about Sam and marriage, and how this is always just sex.
She's not going over to see him because she loves him. Love is a dangerous thing to even consider. She's going over because she's curious, because he hasn't ever asked her for sex. Hasn't really asked for anything since he handed back her tag (the tag hangs in her locker, something she taps before going out on CAP).
It's not that he doesn't want to. Even with their contact this frakked-up, casual frakking thing, she can tell he wants more. He'll nuzzle up under her chin, all gentle and Sam, but he doesn't ask.
Not yet.
It's the thing that scares the crap out of her, sometimes, when she's waiting for him to arrive, skin antsy with the desire to frak him, to bury her brain in the feel of his body (over and over until she's clawing at him, and he's hoarse with trying not to shout) inside of hers and around her. He wants more. She knows he does, and she can't open herself up again, can't even admit to herself that being open left her free for Leoben's lies (frakking with her until she couldn't tell which was up anymore).
Keeping him at arms' length, frakking him on her terms. That's how it works.
"Get really bored?" she asks him, even before she's jumped off the raptor. She's smug and arrogant, unsurprised that he was waiting (leaning up against a stack of crates like he's board out of his mind) for her. He's so prompt and predictable. She loves that about him.
"Yeah," he drawled in response, hands grabbing hers, turning, pressing her up against the stack before he kisses her.
There's something heavy in his kiss before she grabs his ass. It doesn't take long for them to leave the landing bay, to find a room that Sam mockingly says they have for an hour. Maybe two. Kara's half-naked before the hatch is closed, telling herself that being this turned on at him needing her is normal.
It's fast, electricity crackling under her fingertips, Sam's body keeping her trapped against a wall. Kara talks too much, nonsense that he finally stops with his mouth.
She can feel the seriousness again, the desperation that suddenly has him holding her so still she thinks he might break apart in her arms right then. If he says anything, she thinks she might run again. This was a mistake. Coming to him, pretending this was normal, was stupid. There are edges in the air, currents that stifle her, tighten her fingers on his shoulders.
When he starts again, slow, sure strokes that drive her insane, she keeps her mouth on his so he can't talk. Her fingers drag at his shoulders and arms, around to his back, down to his ass, and back up. Don't say anything.
Her climax is sharp, pulling her into the real world, and she curses, her head banging into the wall a little.
"Kara."
Grabbing for his face, she kisses him, her tongue echoing the movement of his cock inside of her until he shudders, going still and leaning into her.
For just a moment, she thinks about staying there. About cleaning up and following him back to his bunk, climbing in and spooning. Cuddling, the way they sometimes did on the cold nights of New Caprica. But the thought of waking up with him, that piercing familiar sweetness of morning breath and morning quickies, his fingers inside of her before she's awake enough to object (not that she would), is too much.
She pushes at his shoulder, "Getting cocky, huh?"
"Huh?" Following her shoves, he puts her down, stepping back.
A part of her aches at the loss of his touch. She tells it to frak off. This is better, no one gets hurt. "Calling me for a quickie, Sammy. Didn't think you had that in you."
He tosses her bra at her and shrugs, bending to collect his pants before he cleans himself with a towel. "I felt like exercising my rights."
"Asshole." The word trips easily off her tongue, and Kara shoves past him to get her underwear and shirts off the floor.
"Two years ago," he finally says, after they've dressed in silence and he's got the hatch open.
"What?"
"We lost forty people in a Cylon raid."
He's gone, striding down the corridor, and leaving her with the uncomfortable feeling of having been used. Swallowing, she wonders if this is how he feels, after he's arrived on Galactica like an unpaid hooker. She almost goes after him, almost asks about the raid, the people the resistance lost.
But this isn't her place anymore. Not now. Maybe not ever again.
The bleak thoughts follow her back to Galactica, chasing her down to Joe's and a succession of drinks that only let up at last call.
-f-
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Also, I've always wanted to write "Sam calls Kara for sex" in a way that wasn't all "he's just being an asshole for revenge" or something.
I had to find a prompt that fit the idea I started writing while angrily driving to the store for quartersThere's just too much about Leoben that's just a twisted version of Sam.
THAT. I know I've played with it before a little, and if I ever manage to finish it, the Kacey AU that's sitting around has a LOT of that in it, with Kara letting Sam get close, then being reminded, and running/facing it, etc. Sigh. Canon had so many avenues to explore, and it... really didn't do any of them justice.
Thank you!
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Admitting it aloud and to each other is hard, though.
(er, it got stalled? Also, it sounds very similar to yours
yes, I'm a bad fangirl and haven't read any of the bigbangs, I'm sorry. :/and I dislike feeling like I'm copying someone [unless it's Ron, since, well, being Ronned is hilarious])I think they may've gotten bored/side-tracked with other shiny things (like Cylons). And, also, well, stupid things. And I am a comicbook fan. You should SEE some of the things I've had to make sense of in X-Men canon! =D
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Now, having read yours, there ARE differences. And since I know which way yours went, I can duck down different paths. =D
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Break my heart more, you guys. :(
(Nice job.)
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(Thank you =D)
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Owie, but I like that he uses her back and she gets a bit of a reminder that she's not the only one with demons. Not that it helps, really, since then she just feels bad about it. *sigh*
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I always felt like there was a give and take about them, even then--like, they were terribly unhealthy and dysfunctional, but they were still... well, together. Still entwined in a way that they couldn't walk away from.
Like, I'm never going to get over the fact that she could have used ANYONE for sex, but she called Sam.
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Thank you =D
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Thank you =D
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Though I must admit, I'm getting nostalgia here. Oh the halcyon days of non-i'mseekritlyatoaster-related angst! ;)
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Siigh. THINGS WERE SO SIMPLE, ONCE, ALLIE.
Thank you =D