Shady Business
What had started as an ugly day had led to a decent compromise which was – in turn – followed by an ugly line-in-the-sand drawn between him, his father and Laura Roslin.
Not that he hadn't been the 'odd-man-out' before, but these were different times and much different playing fields. But, so far – so good; the work was getting done, none of the prisoners on the Astral Queen had tried to escape or had to be reprimanded while they were mining the ice, and all he got from Kara was a stony look when he returned to Galactica. Granted, the look she gave him would have put a hole in the side of an asteroid but she gave him a wide berth as he climbed into his bunk for some much needed sleep. Not that he knew what she'd have to be angry about. The situation on the Astral Queen was quickly brought to an end. Yes, Cally had been shot when one of the inmates tried to rape her. Yes, his eyebrow was going to be decorated with a scar for a long time to come. But other than that, no one had gotten hurt and she never had to fire her sniper-rifle.
Rolling over onto his side, he added one more thing to his mental 'to do' list: catch up with Kara and…
He was asleep before he could finish his thought.
bsg...bsg...bsg...
It was the barest of caress. The pads of supple fingers were tracing the hard muscles of his legs and the outside curves of his knees. A set of cool palms slid up his flanks and moulded themselves to his thighs before sliding back down the inside planes of his legs and lightly massaging the tendons of his ankles.
Rolling more onto his back, settling deeper into the meagre inches that made up his mattress, Lee let himself enjoy the sensual shudders his dream-lover was creating. Fantasies were a good thing and this was one of the best fantasies his imagination had yet to create.
Dropping his knees to the side, just as he would do if he had someone in his bed with him, he let himself believe that it was her fingers that inched their way back up the columns that were his legs and grip the elastic of his boxers. Barely lifting his ass, the fabric just skimming his skin as he pushed them all the way off, his arms relaxed against the mattress as he waited for what 'she' was going to do next.
Obliging her when 'she' nudged his feet apart, the interesting sensation of something slightly weighted yet cool spanning the base of his semi-hard cock was something he enjoyed. In his mind, she was there – perched between his knees and looking at him with an intensity that prickled his skin and sent one hand drifting down and gripping his half-hard cock. She wanted a show and he was to be the featured presentation. It was with a sigh of impending release that he began to stroke himself, even as she continued to caress and sensually massage all his sore and tired body parts.
His grip became firmer after he 'felt' her mouth move to the head of his cock. His strokes became more rapid as the wetness from her mouth combined with the pre-cum leaking from his cock and formed an incredibly sensual lubricant. His breath began to speed up as his released approached. Between her mouth focusing solely on the head of his cock, and his hand flying up and down the length of his cock, he had no idea how he moved his hand away in time before she engulfed him entirely.
It was incredible! Hot, wet, juicy, firm, and talented – her mouth and tongue possessed the kind of skill that would make a man never want to leave his house ever again. Nor was 'she' the kind of woman that needed her partner to place a guiding hand on her head. She knew what she was doing and enjoyed doing it to him.
His dry hand curled and, in his sleep-hazy state, he knew somewhere that he was gripping nothing but sheets and blankets. Cool air was wafting around his hard cock and heavy balls. His right hand gripped his cock firmly. Up and down, threading his cock through an ever-tightening corkscrew, he envisioned her taking in the sight of him, looking at his body, looking at his face, stroking his erogenous zones, pushing him on to… Breathing from that place deep in his stomach, all the tension from the past twenty-four hours was uncorked and was replaced with wave after much-needed wave of pleasure.
He fell back asleep, if he ever truly woke up, as he was – on his back and splayed wide open.
Sitting on her heels, Kara looked down at Lee. His right hand was cradling the underside of his cock and two of his fingers were lightly hugging his now-empty balls. Wiping her mouth, traces of his taste still lingered on her tongue and his smell perfumed the alcove that was his rack. She had gotten what she came for, but now she wanted what she really shouldn't have. Brother-and-sister, best friends, best rivals, co-competitors and wanna-be lovers, she and Lee were all of the above and yet didn't fell into any category whatsoever. They were definitely better together and worse-for-wear when they were apart.
Like today, for instance.
Lee's gamble with Zarek almost didn't pay off. There wasn't a moment that she didn't mentally order Lee out of the way so that she could get a clear shot at Zarek. A zealot like him had no place in the Fleet. She'd bet one of her few remaining cigars that Tom Zarek was going to frak things up – for everyone – one day. Not to mention that the seconds where she was convinced that Lee was going to be shot affected her on a very elemental level. Of all the emotions that bubbled up at that moment and during the subsequent debriefing, anger was one of the few she recognized. Building on that, coming up her 'plan', she never expected it to back fire on her. What she wanted was something to embarrass Lee – on a personal, not professional level – but now, what she had, she wanted to keep to herself.
Slowly shifting her weight as to not jar Lee and silently slipping out his bunk, she had to admit it was damn hot watching him get himself off. Granted, she never intended to do anything but touch him. But as he was lying there, working himself over, watching the skin of his palm catch-and-drag over his cock, she had to do something or risk him waking up before she got what she needed. That's when she 'helped'. It's when she got caught up in the moment that her carefully laid plan almost became her, getting laid.
Her body was purring and the ache between her legs wasn't going to be sated with a couple of strokes of her fingers. She needed more than that but seeing as how she was due to launch in less than an hour, there was something she could do with her time that would take her mind off her own need for sexual relief.
Shoving the camera into her back pocket, she made for the Flight Deck. Between convincing herself that Karl was dead and having to keep her relationship with Tyrol off of Tigh's radar, Sharon was having a tough time and some of the less then chivalrous crewmembers were smelling blood. Making a public show of exactly where she fell in regards to the rookie Raptor pilot would hopefully deter overt attempts to frak with the younger woman. And maybe, just maybe, Sharon could help her with her dilemma.
Swinging her arms in wide circles to loosen up her joints, she couldn't help but hope that one of them would just try to frak with her friend.
Bsg bsg bsg
The sound of a flight-boot crashing to the floor and a hissed curse from that same someone who dropped the boot in the first place was what woke Lee up and made him open his eyes.
No. That wasn't entirely true. He had been up for a while, procrastinating, not wanting to crawl out of bed until he absolutely had too. He was still enjoying the after-effects of his midnight release. The side of his face, where the butt of that rifle connected with his skull, was still throbbing and the few stitches Ishnay had to sew felt puffed and tender. But, at least there wasn't any double vision and gauging by the physical remains of his dream last night, he was going to live to tell the tale of what happened on the Astral Queen.
That was yesterday. Today was going to be something different. It had to be. He didn't want to face down another ship full of prison inmates and negotiate a hostage crisis any time soon.
Pulling his boxers up to his hips, he pushed aside his privacy curtain. The bunk room had all but emptied. First shift had given way to second-shift and CAP was changing up. Skulls and Racetrack were the last of those to suit-up and the colourful language belonged to female Raptor pilot.
Close quarters made small-talk un-necessary. Shuffling to his locker, reaching for fresh clothes and his shower-kit, Lee rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. He had a squad briefing to host, a CAP to fly, and a flight roster to file with Tigh before the end of his day. Thinking about how he was going to get it all done, he didn't even hear Racetrack and Skulls leave the bunk room. Yanking his towel from its hook, he sure as hell wasn't going anywhere until he showered.
Not seeing them until it was too late to catch them, a pair of aviator sunglasses clattered to the floor. Picking them up, two pieces of paper were wedged between the frames and the inside of the lenses. Each was labelled in the order they were to be read.
Opening up the corners of the first piece of paper revealed a picture of Kara, complete with an inscription on the back:
Lee –
These look better on you then me.
Kara
It was quite the picture. The glasses – the same ones he was holding in his other hand – were perched just underneath the bridge of her nose and she was looking over the gleaming metal rims in a very saucy, sultry, cocky, sexy-challenging manner. Posed in a very Starbuck-esque stance, her flight suit was unzipped and it was clear that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. A slowly widening 'v' stretched from below her naval and spread to showcase the inner curves of her breasts and feminine strength of her shoulders.
The whole package had him thankful that there wasn't anyone else in the bunkroom. That way, there'd be no witnesses to his semi that was pushing against the opening in his boxers.
The second piece of paper – a second picture – had his semi shrinking and then re-swelling as realization set in.
It was him. Slightly bruised, slightly battered, and sprawled out on his rack, naked as the day he was born. Arm muscles were standing out starkly and the definition in his chest and stomach were clearly matched by the dappled strength in his thighs and calves. The hint of stubble on his face added to the over-all look of him being slightly smug that he had been kept up all night and loving every minute of it.
He wasn't entirely naked. Resting on the base of his cock were the same glasses Kara had been wearing on her face. Except, now, the reflective lenses – gleaming against a backdrop of crisp black hairs and a dishevelled bed – veiled his balls. He looked like someone who had been 'flown hard' and put in the hanger bay 'still hot'.
There was an inscription on the back of that picture as well.
That is, they do from where I was sitting.
K
Pieces of the night before fell into place and he let his head fall forward until it rested against the cold metal of his locker. What he did, what she did, what they could have done together if he'd only been more with it…
A myriad of thoughts raced through his brain as he willed his body into some semblance of modesty. Among those thoughts were ways to turn the tables on Kara.
It was nearly an hour later before he reached the doors to the Ready Room. Checking to make sure everyone was there, including his resident gadfly, he started in with the briefing.
Fifteen minutes later he closed his folder and swept the room with his eyes, making contact with everyone before he closed the meeting.
There was one person he saved for last. Smoothly sliding the glasses from his pocket, his timing was perfect.
"Any questions?"
Spreading the frames and putting the glasses on his face in one lithe motion, he was speaking to the room while at the same time telling Starbuck she hadn't won just yet.
"Good Hunting."
With that, he turned on his heel and waltzed from the room.
He didn't need to see Kara to hear her full-throated laugh and singular applause.