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FANDOM: Battlestar Galactica
TITLE: More Than Missing
AUTHOR: Tielan
SUMMARY: It was easier not to want. It always has been.
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: Kara/Lee, Post-series, Earth 2.0, Alternate Ending, Relationship, Porn Battle
WARNINGS: (highlight to see) None
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, making no money out of this.
ALTERNATIVES: Porn Battle (DW) | AO3
NOTES: For the Porn Battle XIII. I haven't written these two in ages, and I wanted a little closure.
More Than Missing
The hail on Lee's lips dies as a woman comes out of the house in the last light of the day, before the sun sinks down over the hills and casts the valley in shadow.
For a moment, he considers turning back, but her head lifts as though he called her name. She shades her eyes, tilts her head, and he can feel her waiting. So he goes down to the rough log house, to the garden and the yard, to the life of a woman he thought of as dead and gone.
I'm not coming back, Lee.
He never expected her to.
--
"I never figured you for a farmer," he tells Kara that night, after the chores are done. Hauling and digging - backbreaking work that leaves blisters on his fingers and aches in his back.
"I never figured you for a wanderer," she retorts as she swirls her bread through the stew, that glittering smile on her lips - Kara Thrace challenging him.
He shrugs and doesn't say that here he has no responsibilities - nothing to tie him down. That was always her line. "It's not a bad life."
"But it's not dancing a Viper either. Come on, Lee. You don't miss it sometimes? All the time?"
"All the time," he says, and watches the tiny flame in the pool of tallow dance unevenly, casting memories of empty sky and cold space across their faces. "I miss all of it all the time. But we can't live in the past."
Her lips curve. "No," she agrees. "We can't."
And she leans across the table and her mouth captures his.
--
She's real, not a ghost, not a dream. Flesh under his hands, blood over her bones. Perhaps still a revenant - the unholy remnant of Kara Thrace brought back by the gods to lead them to this planet.
Lee doesn't care.
Whatever she is, she's Kara. That's enough.
Her hands yank at the ties of his shirt, and he digs his hand into the neck of her leather vest to get at her breasts. She arches into his hands, into his touch, laughter brimming between their lips. Human heat, human passion - something he hasn't felt in a long time.
He bites her, just to hear her yelp, and grins against her shoulder a moment before her hand clenches in his hair. She drags his head up and slaughters him with a kiss that leaves teethmarks in his lip and bruises on her hips as his hands clench. But he bites back, refusing to let her have the last word.
She breaks off laughing. He breaks away swearing, the tang of blood on his lip.
Kara stands and the throat of her vest hangs open, flamelight dancing over the curve of her breasts. "Come to bed, Lee."
--
Hot skin, lean muscle, the play of his tongue on her throat, over her breasts, on her belly... Kara wants more than he's giving, so she rubs herself, hard friction to take off the sharp, slippery edge of desire.
"Like some help there?" Lee's hand covers hers and pushes, slowing the pace. His finger slides between hers, and Kara arches against the pressure.
"Always so helpful," she murmurs.
"When you let me," he replies, and his breath is hot against her nipple before his lips close, sucking her hard and deep into his mouth.
Lightning arcs through her, and she arches. Her hand fumbles out from under his, sliding over big knuckles, slick and wet as she pushes him, needing more, wanting harder, urging him on.
Only this isn't the way to get him to take her - hard and fast, the way she prefers it - the safer way. She can control it when it's swift and needy - she can control them when they need her more than she needs them.
Then Lee slides his fingers into her, deep to the knuckle, his thumb hard on her clit.
Kara knows why they call orgasm the little death. Like the final moments before the Viper explodes, before the air turns to fire and sears you from the inside out, everything is now. And she rides his hand, as her hand rides on his, pushing him deeper.
Pressure. Pleasure. Relief.
--
Kara guides Lee's hips as he moves in her, her back arching for better friction. Long muscles working in his buttocks as he thrusts, and she presses her fingers into the glutes, encouragement and fascination.
It goes beyond that, but that's all she'll confess to, even in her mind.
"I missed you," she murmurs as he shudders, and doesn't know if he hears her in the throes of his orgasm. She doesn't care.
They lie still, hearts pounding, breath heaving.
A finger traces her bicep in the darkness - the tattoo she got for her marriage to another man, a defiance thrown in his face - in the face of what she wanted and feared.
But Anders is gone, and so is the life they would have led on Earth. She thought of Lee as dead - dead to her, as she was dead to him - not hers, gone to seek his own destiny - to be who he would be without the pressure of his father or the guilt of his brother. It was easier not to want. It always has been.
"Kara?"
"Yeah?"
"I missed you, too."
More than desire burns in her belly as he lifts himself on his elbows and drowns her in the taste of his mouth.
fin
TITLE: More Than Missing
AUTHOR: Tielan
SUMMARY: It was easier not to want. It always has been.
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: Kara/Lee, Post-series, Earth 2.0, Alternate Ending, Relationship, Porn Battle
WARNINGS: (highlight to see) None
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, making no money out of this.
ALTERNATIVES: Porn Battle (DW) | AO3
NOTES: For the Porn Battle XIII. I haven't written these two in ages, and I wanted a little closure.
More Than Missing
The hail on Lee's lips dies as a woman comes out of the house in the last light of the day, before the sun sinks down over the hills and casts the valley in shadow.
For a moment, he considers turning back, but her head lifts as though he called her name. She shades her eyes, tilts her head, and he can feel her waiting. So he goes down to the rough log house, to the garden and the yard, to the life of a woman he thought of as dead and gone.
I'm not coming back, Lee.
He never expected her to.
--
"I never figured you for a farmer," he tells Kara that night, after the chores are done. Hauling and digging - backbreaking work that leaves blisters on his fingers and aches in his back.
"I never figured you for a wanderer," she retorts as she swirls her bread through the stew, that glittering smile on her lips - Kara Thrace challenging him.
He shrugs and doesn't say that here he has no responsibilities - nothing to tie him down. That was always her line. "It's not a bad life."
"But it's not dancing a Viper either. Come on, Lee. You don't miss it sometimes? All the time?"
"All the time," he says, and watches the tiny flame in the pool of tallow dance unevenly, casting memories of empty sky and cold space across their faces. "I miss all of it all the time. But we can't live in the past."
Her lips curve. "No," she agrees. "We can't."
And she leans across the table and her mouth captures his.
--
She's real, not a ghost, not a dream. Flesh under his hands, blood over her bones. Perhaps still a revenant - the unholy remnant of Kara Thrace brought back by the gods to lead them to this planet.
Lee doesn't care.
Whatever she is, she's Kara. That's enough.
Her hands yank at the ties of his shirt, and he digs his hand into the neck of her leather vest to get at her breasts. She arches into his hands, into his touch, laughter brimming between their lips. Human heat, human passion - something he hasn't felt in a long time.
He bites her, just to hear her yelp, and grins against her shoulder a moment before her hand clenches in his hair. She drags his head up and slaughters him with a kiss that leaves teethmarks in his lip and bruises on her hips as his hands clench. But he bites back, refusing to let her have the last word.
She breaks off laughing. He breaks away swearing, the tang of blood on his lip.
Kara stands and the throat of her vest hangs open, flamelight dancing over the curve of her breasts. "Come to bed, Lee."
--
Hot skin, lean muscle, the play of his tongue on her throat, over her breasts, on her belly... Kara wants more than he's giving, so she rubs herself, hard friction to take off the sharp, slippery edge of desire.
"Like some help there?" Lee's hand covers hers and pushes, slowing the pace. His finger slides between hers, and Kara arches against the pressure.
"Always so helpful," she murmurs.
"When you let me," he replies, and his breath is hot against her nipple before his lips close, sucking her hard and deep into his mouth.
Lightning arcs through her, and she arches. Her hand fumbles out from under his, sliding over big knuckles, slick and wet as she pushes him, needing more, wanting harder, urging him on.
Only this isn't the way to get him to take her - hard and fast, the way she prefers it - the safer way. She can control it when it's swift and needy - she can control them when they need her more than she needs them.
Then Lee slides his fingers into her, deep to the knuckle, his thumb hard on her clit.
Kara knows why they call orgasm the little death. Like the final moments before the Viper explodes, before the air turns to fire and sears you from the inside out, everything is now. And she rides his hand, as her hand rides on his, pushing him deeper.
Pressure. Pleasure. Relief.
--
Kara guides Lee's hips as he moves in her, her back arching for better friction. Long muscles working in his buttocks as he thrusts, and she presses her fingers into the glutes, encouragement and fascination.
It goes beyond that, but that's all she'll confess to, even in her mind.
"I missed you," she murmurs as he shudders, and doesn't know if he hears her in the throes of his orgasm. She doesn't care.
They lie still, hearts pounding, breath heaving.
A finger traces her bicep in the darkness - the tattoo she got for her marriage to another man, a defiance thrown in his face - in the face of what she wanted and feared.
But Anders is gone, and so is the life they would have led on Earth. She thought of Lee as dead - dead to her, as she was dead to him - not hers, gone to seek his own destiny - to be who he would be without the pressure of his father or the guilt of his brother. It was easier not to want. It always has been.
"Kara?"
"Yeah?"
"I missed you, too."
More than desire burns in her belly as he lifts himself on his elbows and drowns her in the taste of his mouth.
fin
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