Primal Give, Primal Take

By Zuzu Petal

AN: yes, another one with my newest favorite streaming service pairing. Have we come up with a name for them yet? Not sure when this fic would be taking place, mostly writing it for fun.

ALSO! Big thank you to everyone who has left reviews for my stories featuring this specific pair, I love you and you're all amazing!

PART ONE

Fragmented Peace

The catalyst had been Lt. Ash Tyler. The day, Michael cannot remember now. The moment? Seeing her captain's eyes reflect her own misery. The decision... purely emotional. Logic had taken more than a backseat as of late for Michael Burnham; it had been forced into an airlock with the threat of termination should it even attempt to try to worm it's way back into her psyche.

The place: her captain's quarters. There had been pain, physical and emotional. There had been regret before, during and after from both parties. But there had been connection, a link had been formed, a bond unbroken and unspoken.

And it had been Michael who had started it all.

It had begun with Ash's betrayal and disappearance with the female Klingon, L'Rell. He had been a plant, a sleeper agent, both Lt. Ash Tyler and Voq the Klingon, the Torchbearer, were one and the same.

T'Kuvma's heir had been revealed.

It had all happened so fast.

Once the Discovery had limped her way back to normal space, the captain further broken by his behavior to try and take his ship and crew to a time and place and reality where the Buran wasn't destroyed haunted him even further. But he had pulled them out, he had gotten them to safety. But he had seen what he could've become, his other self split and spliced in another dimension.

Michael had to admit, meeting your double in an alternate dimension and world would be shocking and disquieting for anyone. But if Captain Lorca of this... prime universe and not this queer mirrored version of itself believed he was a man without a chance of redemption, his mind was surely changed upon meeting his alternate.

Captain Lorca had seen first hand what he could become. And that had made more of a difference than anyone realized. But it was disturbing to say the least.

Yes, they had escaped. They had run away with their tail between their legs. Michael saw no shame in it; she had little time to feel shame for running away from a fight. No, instead, she felt disgusted. She had taken the enemy into her heart, wrapped them in a blanket and gave them love she hadn't known she was capable of.

And for Captain Lorca he had allowed the fox into the coop, the wolf into the field of helpless little white sheep. He had practically cut the throats of his flock and left them for the beast.

The night, again, was unknown to Michael now. The bridge had been mute except for the passing of information here and there. Nobody wanted to speak, no one wanted to tease or joke or make any kind of light. There was no point. Not with what had happened.

Each crewman, no matter how high or low on the totem poll, looked at each other now with distrust. Who could they rely on now when one of their own had so easily turned on them?

The looks the captain and Michael shared were the same. Hollow eyes and empty stares. It was a queer sort of comfort. But neither expected it to drive them into each other's arms.

Michael appeared before his door, uncaring if anyone saw her. She pressed the comm button and waited. It slid open with a muted hiss she paid no attention to and she entered.

Her captain was reclining on a sofa, fresh glass of whiskey on the table. He didn't look surprised to see her, he looked as defeated she felt. He offered her a drink but she refused and remained standing.

The captain inspected Michael with his eyes slowly, she looked disheveled. Her hair unwashed, her uniform neglected.

Why was she here? God, he couldn't think straight with those sad girlish eyes blinking slowly, in and out of focus. He wanted to suffer in his pain, he was used to that. What he wasn't used to doing was sharing his pain. He would appear weak and broken.

"Come to cast blame? I've had my share for today." He said when she still hadn't spoke. The silence was beginning to gnaw at him.

"I don't know why I'm here." She admitted, lowering her eyes.

"Then go. I don't have time for shy introverts crying over their boyfriends." He said coldly, he rose and refilled his glass.

Michael felt the bite in his tone, and she allowed the venom to fuel her own fire.

"You let him on the ship." She accused, pointedly.

"I thought you didn't know why you were here." He replied, downing another glass, but his eyes told her he was very sober.

Michael took a brave step forward but they were still feet apart, she swallowed.

"I still don't. I... I'm angry." She said. "I'm hurt. I feel..."

"Used?" He clarified for her and she nodded. "Get used to it. That's what Starfleet is all about, kiddo."

Michael wiped her face with her palms.

"Shut up." She backed away from him and he began to approach her, she didn't know where he had put his glass.

"Stop pretending the Federation is this perfect utopia where everyone is friends and there's no blood feuds or war," he said, in a mockingly chivalrous tone that highlighted his natural accent, punctuated with each passing word. "Stop pretending you didn't want to see the truth of who or what Ash was just as badly as I didn't. I had the facts, I had punched a dozen holes in his story... but I still didn't let myself see it."

Michael didn't realize she was backed against a bulkhead, he was towering over her. He wasn't an extremely tall man but she was no match for his height.

"Why are you here, Michael?" Lorca asked again, aware of the intimacy of their personal space, but unwilling to give into it like he had wanted to. He wondered if Ash and Michael had gone that far yet? He wasn't stupid, his threat hadn't worked. But that's because it was all part of Voq's plan, not Ash.

Voq's plan wasn't original but it worked: make your enemy fall in love with you, seduce them, use them, betray them... the mind-fuck of this age old revenge path was not lost on Lorca.

"I don't know why." Michael said again, lowering her gaze to his lips, his chin, back to his eyes. Her eyes begging for him to give her answers, to sooth her, to help her realize something she couldn't understand.

Lorca admired her naivete in a way. He remembers being that young and hopeful. He also remembers what fresh heartbreak felt like, how easily the wound became infected and twisted; turning to black and leaving a suffocating feeling of uncertainty.

"I told you, I don't have time for this." He said and as she tried to squirm away into the bulkhead, as if a hidden door would appear behind her, he brought a hand to the side of her neck. He didn't squeeze, in fact there was very little pressure, only the weight of his hand against her. She froze, unable to think or calculate what to do next.

No, no, this is comfort... or intimidation, he's not-

"You miss him," Lorca began, reading her thoughts. "I understand. But I can't give you what you need."

"What do you think I need?" Michael asked, she found herself shivering at his touch, the way his rough fingers felt against her soft skin, the way he didn't feel like Ash... that most of all.

"You want to forget him entirely," Said Lorca. "You want to cleanse yourself of him. But that never works."

Michael felt like a snake that was being charmed, his eyes danced over her face as did hers to him. His hand slid down to her waist and his arm wrapped around her like thick rope. She gasped as he drew her closer.

What are you doing? He warred with himself, but he couldn't stop. Maybe he could make her forget, make them both forget...

The feel of his sturdy body against her own, again so unlike Ash, yet definitely male, caused a sudden jolt of adrenaline to canter throughout her smaller frame.

"You can't forget forever," Lorca whispered against her cheek, his lips brushing against her skin ever so slightly. Her fingers slowly made a path up his chest, pulling on the zipper to his uniform urgently, he let her.

Human touch, physical comfort when she felt so hollow, eased into her marrow and pores like a warm bath. But she didn't know what to do or what she wanted... perhaps, he could show her?

"Then what can you do?" She asked him in a quivering voice, her hands running down the length of his chest. Michael didn't know how to touch him or where... she knew she had to though.

"I can make you forget for a little while." He promised.

Michael let him kiss her, she let him shove her into the bulkhead and be as rough or as gentle as he liked. She was giving it to him and not Ash or Voq. Lorca wasn't lying to her, he had kept things from her, but he had never lied to her. He had insisted on keeping her safe, putting her security above all others.

Why? There had to be a reason.

The differences between the two men were quickly mounting: Ash was gentle and soft, patient and understanding.

Lorca was hard, demanding and far more explorative. He knew what he liked, he knew what he wanted, more importantly: he knew what to give Michael. She was relinquishing control, she was giving up her logic for emotional release. And the temperamental captain quickly learned just how little Michael and Ash had explored one another.

And Lorca wouldn't lie, he felt a swell of pride with gasp and moan she released; they all sounded like she was making them for the first time. He wondered how much or how little she knew of her own body.

I'll probably be the first, he thought and his lust quickly darkened and began to grow like a wildfire out of his control. Smouldering and torrid, he was burning from the inside out, and he was going to take her with him into the inferno.

The captain kissed his subordinate officer hard and almost cruelly against the bulkhead, running his hands over her body, squeezing her ass and lifting her legs around his waist as he took what he wanted and she allowed him this. Little did she know he was only doing so to keep her mind from wandering to Ash... though he knew it was inevitable that her overactive brain would begin to compare the two men.

Making notes: pros and cons. Likes and dislikes... better or worse?

Good, I promised to make her forget him for a little while, he thought.

Lorca released Burnham and stepped back a foot from her. She was breathing heavily, her hands outstretched awkwardly as if reaching for him.

"Take off your clothes." He ordered and Michael's face burned with embarrassment. He didn't order her again but he waited, seating himself back on the couch to watch her in a wicked sort of way.

"Wouldn't you... derive more pleasure from undressing me?" She asked him and he chuckled and shook his head before a serious look passed over his features, the same look he had when he was giving orders on the bridge that could mean life or death for the whole ship.

"Michael?"

"Yes?"

"Take off your fucking clothes."

The sudden change of his language jolted Michael in a sensual way she had not expected. He was always the type of man to take charge in any situation, but she had also never envisioned him in this way before. Not until he cornered her, not until he touched her and offered to relieve her of some of her burden.

Licking her lips nervously she began with her boots, moving on to her jacket. The pants came next but she seemed unsure of whether she was willing to expose her genitals first by removing her underwear or her breasts.

Both, despite stigmas being stamped out over time, still conjured feelings of shame that were so primal it was hard for anyone to ignore the nagging feeling of wanting to cover one's self.

Especially since... well, she didn't really know her captain all that well. He was a man, appraising her body shamefully the more she revealed. And moreover no one had ever seen her naked before.

And she... enjoyed it. Michael liked the way his eyes moved up and down her body, openly enjoying her shyness, he didn't care. She realized he didn't care what her body looked like, he just wanted to see it. The fact it was turning him on, despite how awkward she must appear, thrilled her.

Captain Lorca struck her as a man who wouldn't have a problem finding a lover. But he wanted her. Her, of all people. Practically inexperienced, mutineer, girlfriend of a spy and traitor. He wanted her... all of her.

Why?

Michael made the decision to remove her shirt but suddenly he held up his hand.

"Stop." She was confused and looked around the room dumbly. "Come here." He said, gesturing with his index finger in a come-hither motion, for some reason the action sent another tingle through her body.

As she approached he parted his thighs and leaned foward, she tried to avoid looking at the obviously large bulge now residing there.

Michael shivered as he ran his fingertips up her bare legs before settling on the bands of her underwear. She gripped his shoulders in fear she might lose her balance. He smirked up at her before pressing his mouth to her exposed hip, the tiniest bit of skin revealed, his mouth soaking up the sweet taste of her; his breath tickling her stomach and causing it to clench as pulse after pulse of singular pleasure caressed it.

Lorca moved his mouth over her belly button which he uncovered, his tongue traveled down to her navel where her pubic mound was still covered by her dark blue panties. She watched him with eager eyes. She was trembling. He put a hand between her knees and with a gentle but firm push she moved them a few inches apart. He stroked the skin on the side of her knee and the back of it up and down softly, sending goose-bumps to make their home across her body.

Michael gripped his shoulders harder when each passing stroke of his fingers grew closer and closer to her wet opening. She felt a pang of derision by how wet she had become, embarrassed by it. But when his fingertips made first contact with her hot entrance she seemed to forget for a moment.

"Oh." She whispered and he pressed more firmly, keeping his fingers outside of her panties, teasing her relentlessly.

Lorca continued pressing kisses to her stomach and hips as his fingers danced along with her soaking slit. He groaned against the skin of her belly at how wet she was for him. He wanted to send a deep space transmission to Ash if he ever found him, did you ever make her this wet you fucking traitor?

Suddenly, upon Ash entering his mind, Lorca reared up, taking Michael by surprise and he pressed his mouth hard against her own. She gripped his forearms unsure of where else to touch him but he swept her up in his arms and carried her to his bed.

Michael's heart pounded fiercely in her chest. His mood had suddenly changed again. Planting her firmly on her back he didn't give her time to press her legs together, instead he seated himself between them, tearing her panties off in one fluid motion.

"Captain-"

"Hold still." He ordered. She had no choice but to obey him.

I'll stop if she wants, but god I hope she doesn't ask me to stop, he thought.

Upon seeing Michael lying there in his bed, legs spread with his wider waist between them, her supple cunt glistening, prone and afraid but willing... he nearly came right there.

Leaning over her, boxing her in with his aggressive body language, his lips hovered over her own.

"Did he ever eat you out?" He asked crudely and Michael's sweet brow furrowed and he had his answer.

"I... I don't know-"

"That's fine. I'll be happy to." He said and before he gave her a moment he had slid down her body, hoisting her legs apart and planting them over his shoulders, his mouth making contact against her wetness.

Michael gasped and tried to sit up but he held her down firmly.

"Hold still." He reminded her and he proceeded to torture her endlessly.

Michael had never felt such feelings before, she was entirely focused on her captain's tongue, his teeth and his lips and... oh, god, his fingers. One which was now inserting itself into her hot opening, swallowing the digit like a hungry mouth.

"Oh, god... captain." She whimpered wantonly, like a greedy wench. "I... it's too much."

And instead of slowing down or retreating from between her legs at her admission, he thrust another finger inside of her as his thumb and tongue took turns torturing her clitorous.

"I bet you wanna, cum, huh?" he whispered against her flesh before suckling her clit once more.

"I... I don't know..."

Lorca filed that away for later.

He doubled his efforts until she was almost pushing him away, or trying to, but he overpowered her and he pulled a sweet and taut orgasm from her body, leaving her gasping, clenching and twitching. Her vaginal walls fluttering against his thick fingers, the vibrations of her body known only to him.

Hovering over her once more he discarded his jacket and boots and pulled her top off of her body and provided her body with gentle caresses and kisses, indulging her in romantic after care.

"Did he ever make you cum?" He asked her flat out, looking into her eyes, they were glassy but with tears of bliss or sadness he couldn't tell. He knew his own eyes matched hers.

"Not like that." Michael assured him.

"Did he ever fuck you?" He asked, once more using crude language to underline his words.

Michael looked away and shook her head.

"We... neither of us were ready for that." She admitted, he took her chin and made her look at him, simply scanning her face and eyes before kissing her again. Running his tongue along her own, giving her a sample of that bittersweet taste that was all her own.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" He asked against her lips, reaching down to unzip his pants, she heard the audible noise but didn't tense, instead her stomach clenched in anticipation.

He reached inside, "do you want me to fuck his name out of your head?" He ran the tip along her slit and she gripped his waist with her thighs but she still didn't answer. "Do you want me to make you forget him with my cock?" She gasped as the tip of said cock dipped ever so slightly into her cunt, "fuck, Michael," he kissed the side of her neck before looking into her eyes once more, "do you want me to fuck away the memory of his hands from you? Do you... want me?"

Michael nodded slowly, unable to look away from him, his eyes pulling her in and never letting go.

"Do you want the pain?" He whispered, lowering his cock more and more into her and she felt the sting beginning to rise. She nodded her head again.

"Say it." He ordered and she didn't miss a beat.

"I want you, all of it."

We choose our own pain, he remembered.

Without giving her a warning, albeit he did grab her hands and hold her down, he thrust hard into her hot cunt and she groaned gutterly in her chest. She wasn't fighting him, it was just her body's natural reaction to a pain she wasn't entirely expecting.

Holding her hands above her head with one hand, he wrapped her thigh around his hip and began his assault. With each thrust their fingers entwined more and more. With each thrust she thought less and less of her revenge on Ash.

Ash who? She thought dumbly, feeling and breathing through the pain which was slowly ebbing away to a dull ache.

Using his knees for leverage he hoisted her legs higher up his waist, fucking his hard cock into her at a pace she was learning to meet.

Eventually he released her wrists and she pulled him to her chest and cried out in his ear. He longed to hear her only make these sounds again and again for him. He would have more from her, he would take more from her as she was willing to give them to him.

"Fuck, fuck, Michael." He groaned hotly against her throat, the desire to her bite her and mark her tickled his brain and made his tongue tingle in an ancient way. But he didn't, he resisted that primal urge.

Michael let out a sob suddenly and he slowed his pace until he stopped.

She was crying and he cursed himself for going too far.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't stop." She said instead. He frowned.

"I'm hurting you-"

"Pelase... it's not what you think."

Taking her word for it, he continued. Only this time he did slow the intensity of his thrusts, but he still made sure to pound that hot little spot inside of her every time. He massaged her clit and felt himself drawing closer to the edge. He was going to cum soon, but he wanted her to cum first. He wasn't a selfish lover, he wanted this to be an orgasm she would never forget. And, in his alpha male sort of way, he wanted it to be one she would compare all others to.

"Are you gonna cum, sweetheart?" He whispered against her lips, unsure as to why he called her that as he had never before to anyone else.

Michael nodded, the tears she had shed dry on her cheeks, she held onto his biceps as he fucked her thoroughly, shocking the air from her lungs. She licked her lips and sighed as her orgasm approached.

She might have been inexperienced but she could tell he was having trouble hanging on for much longer. She moved his fingers slightly to the right and had him press firmly down on her clit in a counterclockwise motion. And soon, Michael felt her orgasm approaching even faster.

"Yes, oh god... I'm so close." She whispered against his cheek.

"I'm gonna cum, Michael, shit..." He warned, and for some reason him admitting he was close somehow tipped her over the edge.

"Ah, I'm... I'm cumming." She couldn't stop herself from saying the words, as if she couldn't believe it herself. Lorca followed her within milliseconds, bracing his hands against the pillow beneath her head as his hips thrust furiously of their own accord; bruising her, damaging her... fixing her.

Michael felt him shuddering atop her, cumming inside her, shaking and panting against her face. Lazily kissing her, coaxing her tongue to stroke his own, reaching up and gripping her jaw with his fingers that had been minutes ago inside of her.

The whole encounter, from the time she stepped into his quarters, until the last moments of his orgasm to now, lasted potentially fifteen minutes. But she couldn't say for sure, even though she had always felt comfortable about relying on her internal clock.

Once, when Tilly had been going on and on about the joys of intercourse, she had said "it can last all night long", to which Michael didn't believe because, as she herself put it, "exhaustion would eventually get the better of both parties, not to mention dehydration". At the time, Tilly simply laughed and shook her head.

But now, Michael understood what Tilly meant. Her roommate hadn't meant it could literally last an entire night, she only meant if it was good it could feel like all night. And she was exhausted, her eyes staying closed longer between blinks, she could see captain Lorca above her still just looking at her through hooded eyes.

What does he think of me now? She thought, though it wasn't out of regret, not yet that would come later. What did he think of her now that she was untethered by regulation, disarmed from logic, unbalanced and detached from all she had ever known...?

What did the captain think of her, it played round and round again and again in her mind. So much so that she fell into a deep sleep without realizing it. He let her have this as she let him have her. He tucked her under the covers and she did not wake, he showered and remained there for some time pondering and allowing Michael to remain under his skin even as he thoroughly rinsed himself.

Let her stay there, he thought. I hope to remain in her.

Upon returning to the bed she had remained, exhausted and eclipsed by sleep. He toyed with the idea of waking her, taking her slower the second time. But he denied it, shuttered it away for another time. For Gabriel Lorca knew once was not enough.

There would be more times when they would both wish to forget...