![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
BSG ficlet, Mud and Sky, Sonja/Lee, R
Disclaimer: not mine
Pairing: Sonja/Lee Adama
Set: post-series.
Length: 570 words (I was aiming for brevity, but still managed to go longish)
Rating: R, sex.
Notes: for the 12Colonies challenge (prompt: 'debate')
Mud and Sky
by ALC Punk!
It wasn't a debate so much as an excuse. Sonja's words were disdainful and she was ripping his argument to shreds. It didn't matter. His hands were on her hips and her fingers were tight on the low-hanging branches of the tree above them as he stripped her.
Lee loved it here on Earth, loved the way the ground smelled as he knelt, the way Sonja's words went all jagged and desperate when he took his time. .
It had rained recently, and he would have mud ground into the cloth, but he didn't care. Sonja had stopped talking, stopped picking holes in every little thing he'd said at the quorum meeting. Her legs shook with the strain of holding herself up as he teased and teased until his face was wet and his back was aching and his knees were numb.
That was the moment, of course. When he could pull away and look up at her. When he could suggest she was wrong with one breath and then leave her unsatisfied if she objected (not that he ever would; he wasn't that much of an asshole, despite what certain factions said).
He liked to look up her body as she came, liked to dig his fingers into her hips as the heat of her flashed through her spine (he'd seen it more than once, and it always made things that much better).
When she sank down afterward, sliding almost sideways into the dirt and grass beneath them, he smiled to himself. These were the moments he'd found that he lived for.
The sky above, the ground below; fresh air shifting in and out of his lungs and the taste of Sonja at the back of his throat. All of them combined to make him appreciate the choices they'd all made over the years--even if, at the time, he hadn't. There was something wonderful in the way he could roll onto his back and stare upwards at the sky.
But he didn't do so. Not yet. "Next question," he suggested, crawling around her to find a slightly less muddy patch of ground.
He might not object to the mud so much anymore, but there were still standards of dress to maintain--besides, mud in his ass wasn't the most comfortable of things to clean out now that they were making soap from natural means which felt harsher on delicate skin.
Sonja laughed as she pushed up on an elbow. "Who says I have one?"
But he could tell, the way her eyes were tracing a line up his body, the way she followed him when he rolled onto his back; she wasn't done with him yet.
And he wouldn't have it any other way. "I've got one, Quorum Delegate Sonja--" he began, undoing his trousers and shoving them and his underwear out of the way. He was already hard, the taste and sound of her going straight to his cock.
The old title made her smack his chest with her open palm, but she didn't make any other objection when he pulled her to straddle him.
"Your idea about the wheat--" she began only to end on a gasp as he thrust up against her.
Lee smiled a little and slid his hands under her shirt.
The smells of Earth swirled around them and he closed his eyes, feeling Sonja's body rock above him. The debate would have to conclude later.
Pairing: Sonja/Lee Adama
Set: post-series.
Length: 570 words (I was aiming for brevity, but still managed to go longish)
Rating: R, sex.
Notes: for the 12Colonies challenge (prompt: 'debate')
Mud and Sky
by ALC Punk!
It wasn't a debate so much as an excuse. Sonja's words were disdainful and she was ripping his argument to shreds. It didn't matter. His hands were on her hips and her fingers were tight on the low-hanging branches of the tree above them as he stripped her.
Lee loved it here on Earth, loved the way the ground smelled as he knelt, the way Sonja's words went all jagged and desperate when he took his time. .
It had rained recently, and he would have mud ground into the cloth, but he didn't care. Sonja had stopped talking, stopped picking holes in every little thing he'd said at the quorum meeting. Her legs shook with the strain of holding herself up as he teased and teased until his face was wet and his back was aching and his knees were numb.
That was the moment, of course. When he could pull away and look up at her. When he could suggest she was wrong with one breath and then leave her unsatisfied if she objected (not that he ever would; he wasn't that much of an asshole, despite what certain factions said).
He liked to look up her body as she came, liked to dig his fingers into her hips as the heat of her flashed through her spine (he'd seen it more than once, and it always made things that much better).
When she sank down afterward, sliding almost sideways into the dirt and grass beneath them, he smiled to himself. These were the moments he'd found that he lived for.
The sky above, the ground below; fresh air shifting in and out of his lungs and the taste of Sonja at the back of his throat. All of them combined to make him appreciate the choices they'd all made over the years--even if, at the time, he hadn't. There was something wonderful in the way he could roll onto his back and stare upwards at the sky.
But he didn't do so. Not yet. "Next question," he suggested, crawling around her to find a slightly less muddy patch of ground.
He might not object to the mud so much anymore, but there were still standards of dress to maintain--besides, mud in his ass wasn't the most comfortable of things to clean out now that they were making soap from natural means which felt harsher on delicate skin.
Sonja laughed as she pushed up on an elbow. "Who says I have one?"
But he could tell, the way her eyes were tracing a line up his body, the way she followed him when he rolled onto his back; she wasn't done with him yet.
And he wouldn't have it any other way. "I've got one, Quorum Delegate Sonja--" he began, undoing his trousers and shoving them and his underwear out of the way. He was already hard, the taste and sound of her going straight to his cock.
The old title made her smack his chest with her open palm, but she didn't make any other objection when he pulled her to straddle him.
"Your idea about the wheat--" she began only to end on a gasp as he thrust up against her.
Lee smiled a little and slid his hands under her shirt.
The smells of Earth swirled around them and he closed his eyes, feeling Sonja's body rock above him. The debate would have to conclude later.
no subject