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JUST FOR A.J.
Ficlet.
Jean/Billy (BEST PIRATE MINION EVER)
(LDYB?)
Jean Barolay drifted awake, feeling oddly content. This was new. Feeling content while running for your life and being worried you'd die on a daily basis never really went together. She shifted and realized the weight across one side was another body. Cracking one eye open, she tried to look and see who she'd ended up with--the Colonial Day celebration had been packed with alcohol and eager people looking to abuse it and end up in bed with someone. Jean only hoped she hadn't bagged Hillard. She liked the man, but the morning-after with him would be damned awkward.
The head on the other pillow didn't belong to Hillard.
It belonged to ex-Madame President's advisor, Billy Keikeya.
He looked young in the morning light. Far too young to be sleeping with a woman like her. Not that he'd been exactly inexperienced--he'd been good at taking instruction, and she'd slept till morning. Given the laxity in her muscles, Jean was willing to bet he'd worn her out (or the booze had).
And if Sam Anders ever found out she'd taken the young puppy home, she'd never hear the end of it.
The young puppy stirred and opened his eyes to stare at her.
Damn. Now he looked even younger. Jean actually felt guilty about taking advantage of his clearly drunken state.
Then Billy moved towards her, hand brushing up her side.
"I--"
Jean didn't get another word out. Even with morning breath and the taste of stale alcohol on his tongue, he was a good kisser. She let him, enjoying the moment, then pulled away, "Look, kid--"
Wrong thing to say.
His hand cupped one of her breasts and he shifted, half-rolling onto her. The contact brought back nice memories, and Jean blinked. Actions spoke louder than words, maybe.
"You think too much." He murmured before kissing her again as his knee nudged between hers.
Not quite able to help herself, Jean arched up aginst him.
Billy's mouth descended to her neck, lips curving in what might have been a smug smile.
-f-
*flees wrath of A.j.*
Jean/Billy (BEST PIRATE MINION EVER)
(LDYB?)
Jean Barolay drifted awake, feeling oddly content. This was new. Feeling content while running for your life and being worried you'd die on a daily basis never really went together. She shifted and realized the weight across one side was another body. Cracking one eye open, she tried to look and see who she'd ended up with--the Colonial Day celebration had been packed with alcohol and eager people looking to abuse it and end up in bed with someone. Jean only hoped she hadn't bagged Hillard. She liked the man, but the morning-after with him would be damned awkward.
The head on the other pillow didn't belong to Hillard.
It belonged to ex-Madame President's advisor, Billy Keikeya.
He looked young in the morning light. Far too young to be sleeping with a woman like her. Not that he'd been exactly inexperienced--he'd been good at taking instruction, and she'd slept till morning. Given the laxity in her muscles, Jean was willing to bet he'd worn her out (or the booze had).
And if Sam Anders ever found out she'd taken the young puppy home, she'd never hear the end of it.
The young puppy stirred and opened his eyes to stare at her.
Damn. Now he looked even younger. Jean actually felt guilty about taking advantage of his clearly drunken state.
Then Billy moved towards her, hand brushing up her side.
"I--"
Jean didn't get another word out. Even with morning breath and the taste of stale alcohol on his tongue, he was a good kisser. She let him, enjoying the moment, then pulled away, "Look, kid--"
Wrong thing to say.
His hand cupped one of her breasts and he shifted, half-rolling onto her. The contact brought back nice memories, and Jean blinked. Actions spoke louder than words, maybe.
"You think too much." He murmured before kissing her again as his knee nudged between hers.
Not quite able to help herself, Jean arched up aginst him.
Billy's mouth descended to her neck, lips curving in what might have been a smug smile.
-f-
*flees wrath of A.j.*