![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
letterstonorahTitle: And Then Lee Was Like, Frak Yeah.
Author: letterstonorah
Rating: NC17
Characters: Kara/Lee, Karl
Word Count: 1700 words
Summary: Eh. Frakking?
Warnings: smut
Disclaimer: Not mine, obvi.
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
wicked_sassy as a part of the wishing well for no_takebacks. Hope you like it, D!
Not betaed. Sorry for any errors, of which I'm sure there are many.
Kara’s all like, “Come on, Lee. Please?”
Then Lee’s all like, “No. Frak that.”
And then Kara goes, “But you just got your wings. Soon you’ll be off doing important missions and shit. Let loose now while you still can, before the Man shoves that stick even further up your ass—a very good ass, by the way.”
She’s double-fisting, one hand circled around a bottle of Hellhound Ale, another around a half-empty glass of rye and soda. Her hips sway and her head bumps to the beat of whatever shitty pop song is playing at the club. Kara looks exactly the same as she always does: gorgeous, hot, breathtaking, amazing, fiery, celestial—yada, yada, yada.
Seeing Kara in her too-short-to-be-real shorts and a clingy, v-neck t-shirt, Lee’s about ready to lift her up onto one of the barstools and frak he right here. Who gives a shit if people are watching?
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she says, swallowing her last sip of beer and setting the empty bottle on the bar. She licks her lips, beckoning him, but he’s turned resisting Kara into an art. He can do that shit with his eyes closed. Actually, closing his eyes usually helps quite a bit.
“I’m not dancing with you,” Lee says, his voice final. Dancing would mean touching. Touching would mean wanting. Wanting would, inevitably, mean frustration, as Kara has made it clear she’ll frak basically anyone but him.
“Fine,” she says, “suit yourself. I’ll be enjoying myself while you stand here and angst—something new and different for us,” she spits out, the sarcasm not lost upon him.
Kara makes her way to the dance floor, starts dancing with one of her fellow second-years at the Academy.
Now Helo chimes in from out of nowhere—like he always frakking does, popping out of the woodwork like a godsdamn Jack in the Box, giving his two cents whether or not you ask for it. “She’s right, Lee,” Karl says. “It’s a party. You should have fun.”
“In what universe is making a fool of myself while listening to crap music fun?” says Lee.
“In the universe where Starbuck is asking you to do it. In the universe where you’re graduating next week and you two won’t be able to see each other every day.”
There is that.
Lee gulps down the remainder of his gin, gestures for the bartender to give him another. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to go for it before,” says Lee. “She’s made it pretty clear that I’m not what she wants.”
Karl rolls his eyes. He’s obviously not buying it. “You two are like a bad romantic comedy, where the audience knows from scene one that the two characters who hate each other are going to be frakking like bunnies by the end of the movie. Not that you and Kara hate each other, but you get what I’m saying.”
Lee takes a sip from his fresh glass of gin. “I’m not sure I do.”
“Well, then, I’m not sure you’re as smart as you seem to think you are.” Karl tips his beer bottle at Lee then walks away, joining Kara on the dance floor.
She starts to move with him, her back to his front, her ass grinding into him. She’s got her arms up over her head, wrapped around Karl’s neck, causing her shirt to ride up and reveal the skin of her stomach. Karl leans down and whispers something into her ear—and Lee can’t quite tell—but he thinks he licks on her pulse point.
Lee wants to turn away, to stop subjecting himself to this, but Kara’s body entrances him, and he loves to watch her move.
But then gods—does Helo have to do that? He’s wrapped his arms around Kara, one hand sliding up her shirt, the other down to her thigh. It’s a trick. He knows it’s a trick. Kara’s trying to make him crazy and jealous, and Karl is in on it.
Lee finishes his drink and walks up to Kara and Helo. “Having fun angsting, Lee?” Kara asks, her body still entwined with Karl’s.
“Do you still want to dance, or what?” he asks.
Kara shrugs but breaks away from Helo. “Yeah. You sure you want to?”
Lee answers by pulling her toward him so that their fronts are touching. “I’m not very good at this,” he says, resting his hands at the small of her back, trying to match her movements.
Then heaven. Her head rests on his shoulder and her hands snaked up the fabric of his t-shirt, settling n his back. The music is fast and upbeat, and for the most part they keep up.
“Feels good,” Lee says, and it slipped out without him thinking. The nearness of her body, writhing next to his, has him reeling.
“I know,” she says, lifting up her head, meeting his eyes. Lee guesses she can probably feel his hard-on through his jeans, insistent against her thigh. And it could be the music, or the booze, or the fact that he’ll be leaving for War College soon, or maybe the way her tongue darts across her perfect lips—but he’s pretty sure he’s about to do something he’s never done before. He pulls her in tighter, if that’s even possible, then presses his lips as hard as he can against hers. The heavenly part is that she’s kissing him back, opening up her mouth, inviting his tongue to enter.
A couple of feet away, Lee thinks he hears Karl clapping and saying something like, “About time,” but Lee’s too wrapped up in the heat of Kara’s tongue to properly notice. He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks up to get his bearings. He takes her through the crowd of dancers to a wall and pushes her against it, then her hands are on his neck pulling his face to hers, forcing their lips to meet.
As his tongue is sliding in her mouth, a moan escapes Kara’s lips, and if he wasn’t already harder than he’d ever been, knowing he caused her to make that sound would’ve done the trick.
She hooks her leg around him, and it takes every scrap of resistance in his body not to unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans, and frak Kara right here in the middle of the club. He’s wanted his for so long that he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that it’s finally happening. His control is close to non-existent, and Kara—with her pressing tongue and writhing hips—certainly isn’t helping.
“Washroom,” Lee says. Kara smiles at that, starts to lead the way.
Making their way to the toilets proves the longest minute of Lee’s life. They bust into the men’s room which is, thank gods, empty, and head to the large handicap stall. Lee has Kara pressed against the locked door, picking up where they left off. Kara fumbles with the button of Lee’s trousers, and Lee’s trying to catch his breath. He’s imagined this going a thousand different ways, and while in the washroom of a shitty never club was never a featured scenario, he can’t imagine this possibly being any better.
Kara drops to her knees. It just got better. “Gods, Kara,” Lee says as she undoes his zipper, tugs his cock from his boxers, letting it spring up. Her hand is warm around his length, the pressure just right.
“Tell me what you want,” Kara says, her eyes fixed on his. He can feel each of her breaths, teasing him.
“I want you, Kara,” he says.
She grins widely, simultaneously mischievous and carefree. “I can see that, but what do you want me to do?”
He hesitates—not because he has any qualms about the words themselves, but because saying them to Kara will make this real.
“Lee?” she says, less sure of herself now.
“I want to feel your mouth around my cock,” he says. “Can’t you see how hard I am for you?”
Her face lights up, and Lee feels her tongue flicking against the head before she takes him into the hollow of her mouth, her tongue flat against the bottom of his length, stroking, as she bobs up and down.
He can’t seem to keep his eyes open, but all he wants to do is watch the way her lips move over him. He lets his fingers wander to the back of her head, laced into the strands of blonde hair. He pushes her into him, beginning to move his hips, frakking her face. Kara meets every thrust, takes more and more of him in.
“Kara, Kara, stop,” he begs, losing control, every second of this too perfect, too good.
“What?” she says, an eyebrow raised deviously.
“You know what,” says Lee. “Stand up.”
She obeys, leans back against the stall door. Lee undoes the button of her shorts, slips his hand beneath her briefs, feeling the soft curls, wet. He reaches further down, rubs the heel of his hand against her clit as he uses two fingers to tease her entrance.
Kara lifts one leg and begins to rock her hips into his hand. Lee removes his fingers, tugs down her shorts and briefs a little farther, and places the tip of his cock against her cunt.
He slides into her quickly, burying his cock from tip to base. They move into each other at an almost manic speed, moaning and grunting as they dig their fingers into skin and trade hot, searing kisses. She’s incredibly tight and wet around him, and he won’t be able to keep this pace up much longer. Kara reaches down and begins to rub her clit as they frak each other, her head thrown back against the door.
Soon, she’s convulsing around him, and the feel of her throbbing over his cock does him in, and he’s coming inside her.
For several seconds there’s no sound but their heavy breaths and a few voices from outside the hall.
“Gods,” Kara says. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
Lee smiles, rests his chin on her head. “I may have a pretty good idea.”
Author: letterstonorah
Rating: NC17
Characters: Kara/Lee, Karl
Word Count: 1700 words
Summary: Eh. Frakking?
Warnings: smut
Disclaimer: Not mine, obvi.
Written for
wicked_sassy as a part of the wishing well for no_takebacks. Hope you like it, D!Not betaed. Sorry for any errors, of which I'm sure there are many.
Kara’s all like, “Come on, Lee. Please?”
Then Lee’s all like, “No. Frak that.”
And then Kara goes, “But you just got your wings. Soon you’ll be off doing important missions and shit. Let loose now while you still can, before the Man shoves that stick even further up your ass—a very good ass, by the way.”
She’s double-fisting, one hand circled around a bottle of Hellhound Ale, another around a half-empty glass of rye and soda. Her hips sway and her head bumps to the beat of whatever shitty pop song is playing at the club. Kara looks exactly the same as she always does: gorgeous, hot, breathtaking, amazing, fiery, celestial—yada, yada, yada.
Seeing Kara in her too-short-to-be-real shorts and a clingy, v-neck t-shirt, Lee’s about ready to lift her up onto one of the barstools and frak he right here. Who gives a shit if people are watching?
“I’ll make it worth your while,” she says, swallowing her last sip of beer and setting the empty bottle on the bar. She licks her lips, beckoning him, but he’s turned resisting Kara into an art. He can do that shit with his eyes closed. Actually, closing his eyes usually helps quite a bit.
“I’m not dancing with you,” Lee says, his voice final. Dancing would mean touching. Touching would mean wanting. Wanting would, inevitably, mean frustration, as Kara has made it clear she’ll frak basically anyone but him.
“Fine,” she says, “suit yourself. I’ll be enjoying myself while you stand here and angst—something new and different for us,” she spits out, the sarcasm not lost upon him.
Kara makes her way to the dance floor, starts dancing with one of her fellow second-years at the Academy.
Now Helo chimes in from out of nowhere—like he always frakking does, popping out of the woodwork like a godsdamn Jack in the Box, giving his two cents whether or not you ask for it. “She’s right, Lee,” Karl says. “It’s a party. You should have fun.”
“In what universe is making a fool of myself while listening to crap music fun?” says Lee.
“In the universe where Starbuck is asking you to do it. In the universe where you’re graduating next week and you two won’t be able to see each other every day.”
There is that.
Lee gulps down the remainder of his gin, gestures for the bartender to give him another. “It’s not like I haven’t tried to go for it before,” says Lee. “She’s made it pretty clear that I’m not what she wants.”
Karl rolls his eyes. He’s obviously not buying it. “You two are like a bad romantic comedy, where the audience knows from scene one that the two characters who hate each other are going to be frakking like bunnies by the end of the movie. Not that you and Kara hate each other, but you get what I’m saying.”
Lee takes a sip from his fresh glass of gin. “I’m not sure I do.”
“Well, then, I’m not sure you’re as smart as you seem to think you are.” Karl tips his beer bottle at Lee then walks away, joining Kara on the dance floor.
She starts to move with him, her back to his front, her ass grinding into him. She’s got her arms up over her head, wrapped around Karl’s neck, causing her shirt to ride up and reveal the skin of her stomach. Karl leans down and whispers something into her ear—and Lee can’t quite tell—but he thinks he licks on her pulse point.
Lee wants to turn away, to stop subjecting himself to this, but Kara’s body entrances him, and he loves to watch her move.
But then gods—does Helo have to do that? He’s wrapped his arms around Kara, one hand sliding up her shirt, the other down to her thigh. It’s a trick. He knows it’s a trick. Kara’s trying to make him crazy and jealous, and Karl is in on it.
Lee finishes his drink and walks up to Kara and Helo. “Having fun angsting, Lee?” Kara asks, her body still entwined with Karl’s.
“Do you still want to dance, or what?” he asks.
Kara shrugs but breaks away from Helo. “Yeah. You sure you want to?”
Lee answers by pulling her toward him so that their fronts are touching. “I’m not very good at this,” he says, resting his hands at the small of her back, trying to match her movements.
Then heaven. Her head rests on his shoulder and her hands snaked up the fabric of his t-shirt, settling n his back. The music is fast and upbeat, and for the most part they keep up.
“Feels good,” Lee says, and it slipped out without him thinking. The nearness of her body, writhing next to his, has him reeling.
“I know,” she says, lifting up her head, meeting his eyes. Lee guesses she can probably feel his hard-on through his jeans, insistent against her thigh. And it could be the music, or the booze, or the fact that he’ll be leaving for War College soon, or maybe the way her tongue darts across her perfect lips—but he’s pretty sure he’s about to do something he’s never done before. He pulls her in tighter, if that’s even possible, then presses his lips as hard as he can against hers. The heavenly part is that she’s kissing him back, opening up her mouth, inviting his tongue to enter.
A couple of feet away, Lee thinks he hears Karl clapping and saying something like, “About time,” but Lee’s too wrapped up in the heat of Kara’s tongue to properly notice. He breaks the kiss for a moment and looks up to get his bearings. He takes her through the crowd of dancers to a wall and pushes her against it, then her hands are on his neck pulling his face to hers, forcing their lips to meet.
As his tongue is sliding in her mouth, a moan escapes Kara’s lips, and if he wasn’t already harder than he’d ever been, knowing he caused her to make that sound would’ve done the trick.
She hooks her leg around him, and it takes every scrap of resistance in his body not to unbuckle his belt, unzip his jeans, and frak Kara right here in the middle of the club. He’s wanted his for so long that he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that it’s finally happening. His control is close to non-existent, and Kara—with her pressing tongue and writhing hips—certainly isn’t helping.
“Washroom,” Lee says. Kara smiles at that, starts to lead the way.
Making their way to the toilets proves the longest minute of Lee’s life. They bust into the men’s room which is, thank gods, empty, and head to the large handicap stall. Lee has Kara pressed against the locked door, picking up where they left off. Kara fumbles with the button of Lee’s trousers, and Lee’s trying to catch his breath. He’s imagined this going a thousand different ways, and while in the washroom of a shitty never club was never a featured scenario, he can’t imagine this possibly being any better.
Kara drops to her knees. It just got better. “Gods, Kara,” Lee says as she undoes his zipper, tugs his cock from his boxers, letting it spring up. Her hand is warm around his length, the pressure just right.
“Tell me what you want,” Kara says, her eyes fixed on his. He can feel each of her breaths, teasing him.
“I want you, Kara,” he says.
She grins widely, simultaneously mischievous and carefree. “I can see that, but what do you want me to do?”
He hesitates—not because he has any qualms about the words themselves, but because saying them to Kara will make this real.
“Lee?” she says, less sure of herself now.
“I want to feel your mouth around my cock,” he says. “Can’t you see how hard I am for you?”
Her face lights up, and Lee feels her tongue flicking against the head before she takes him into the hollow of her mouth, her tongue flat against the bottom of his length, stroking, as she bobs up and down.
He can’t seem to keep his eyes open, but all he wants to do is watch the way her lips move over him. He lets his fingers wander to the back of her head, laced into the strands of blonde hair. He pushes her into him, beginning to move his hips, frakking her face. Kara meets every thrust, takes more and more of him in.
“Kara, Kara, stop,” he begs, losing control, every second of this too perfect, too good.
“What?” she says, an eyebrow raised deviously.
“You know what,” says Lee. “Stand up.”
She obeys, leans back against the stall door. Lee undoes the button of her shorts, slips his hand beneath her briefs, feeling the soft curls, wet. He reaches further down, rubs the heel of his hand against her clit as he uses two fingers to tease her entrance.
Kara lifts one leg and begins to rock her hips into his hand. Lee removes his fingers, tugs down her shorts and briefs a little farther, and places the tip of his cock against her cunt.
He slides into her quickly, burying his cock from tip to base. They move into each other at an almost manic speed, moaning and grunting as they dig their fingers into skin and trade hot, searing kisses. She’s incredibly tight and wet around him, and he won’t be able to keep this pace up much longer. Kara reaches down and begins to rub her clit as they frak each other, her head thrown back against the door.
Soon, she’s convulsing around him, and the feel of her throbbing over his cock does him in, and he’s coming inside her.
For several seconds there’s no sound but their heavy breaths and a few voices from outside the hall.
“Gods,” Kara says. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
Lee smiles, rests his chin on her head. “I may have a pretty good idea.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 10:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-11 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 01:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 01:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-12 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-13 12:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-16 08:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-17 04:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-03-11 05:09 am (UTC)