Title: Red and Gold (Part 3)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1834
Pairing: Kara/Jean Barolay
Summary: Sequel to Part 1 and Part 2, a Resistance AU where Jean is captain of the C-bucs.
Notes: For the
bsg_pornbattle prompts "war takes its toll" and "payoff"
Her back against the wall, one hand clinging to the windowsill, Jean tries not to think and fails. Kara’s dropped between her legs, with a look in her eyes that’s killing, the kind that makes Jean think of stupid words like ‘love’ and ‘stay with me’. While Kara’s tongue swirls hotly around her clit, Jean lets out a whimper, not caring if it means she’s open. War has taken its toll on her emotions, but Kara makes her remember. She just doesn’t know if it’s the same on the other side.
“We’re gonna get that ship for you,” Jean gasps out, white-knuckling her hand around the sill to keep from pulling at Kara’s hair.
“Don’t talk about it,” Kara mutters harshly against her pussy, and thrusts her tongue in deep.
Jean bucks a little, back scraping against the wall, and she can’t help but say, “Then what?”
Kara’s answer is just to bury all thoughts with one full sweep of her tongue, pushing Jean over the edge until she’s screaming her name. “Mission,” Kara says, half breathless as she gets to her feet again. There’s a bit of a darkness in her eyes, behind the appreciation.
Jean can’t forget long enough. She grabs Kara’s face, kisses her with open mouth and thoughts bare for all to see. And Kara dissolves into her for that moment before chuckling a little and repeating the one word that drives them both: mission. They’re warriors before they’re lovers, always.
*
Helo keeps talking about it; of course he does. He’s still head over heels for Sharon, Cylon though she is, and projects that onto Kara as if it’s remotely the same. The funny thing is, Kara doesn’t know if it is or it isn’t. Jean’s a hell of a good frak, that’s for sure, and Kara’s always had a thing for redheads. But she keeps coming back, emotions exposed, for something else. Hell if she knows what it is, exactly.
“You two are something special,” he says, nudging her as they come back from yet another successful mission (just not one that will let her go home).
“Shut up,” she growls back. It means he’s right. Jean’s not like anything from Kara’s past; she doesn’t dig into the old scars of Zak and Lee. Maybe it’ll be good enough if Kara just keeps her from being a bright red new wound.
“You know that tactic was damn reckless,” Jean says with a sharp look, as she comes up and presses into Kara’s space.
“Wanna tell me exactly how you feel?” Kara throws back with a dance of her eyebrows.
“Frak you,” Jean growls, but grabs Kara’s ass to lead her out back.
Away from the team and all it stands for, their mouths crush together with the last bits of adrenaline, tongues warring, losing clothes along the way with no thought of tomorrow.
*
Jean’s there with a rescue when Kara hobbles her way out of the Farm, and her heart is a tight mess of worry. She wars with Helo for making sure Kara’s fine, finally snapping at him to keep a watch on his Cylon; maybe it offends them both, but Jean’s carefully rationed feelings are going towards Kara.
“Hey,” she says, voice breaking a little as she grips Kara’s hand.
“We’re gonna take out every last one of those frakking farms,” Kara spits, body trembling with her fear and rage alike.
Jean stares at her with an ache of her heart and shakes her head, lips firm. “No. You got your ship, just like I told you you would. You’re going back.”
“Frak no.”
“Frak yes.” Jean stares her down, gripping her hand harder. “You think I don’t care about something like that, you’re an idiot, Kara. And you’ve got something more important than this.”
She can see the shaking in Kara’s eyes, from the trauma of the day and from something more. Jean stands up and walks over to get the Arrow and hand it to her, and Kara follows with a smile that’s not really a smile. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
“Yes, you are,” Jean tells her, wrapping her hand around the grip Kara now has on the Arrow. Her heart might break, and she didn’t realize it could do that anymore. Her mouth quivers despite her control.
Kara yanks at the chain around her neck, pulling one dogtag loose and pushing it into Jean’s palm. “You can’t tell me not to come back, though. I’ll be back.” She didn’t have to say the words, it was written all over her face.
In the months that follow, Jean doesn’t forget what that looks like.
*
“This is about Caprica, right? That woman you left behind; Helo told me.”
“Jean’s dead by now, so it’s not like it matters,” Kara says under her breath, realizing with bitterness that the taste of Lee on her lips is not what she really wants right now. He’s hurt about the aborted attempt at a frak, but Kara’s drowning in it.
Lee stares at her, and something softens on his face. “Who is she to you?”
Kara refuses to answer, refuses to make it real. She can’t think right now, lost on alcohol but not enough, wanting Lee but not enough, wanting Jean but just having not enough resources. Maybe she should frak Kat—maybe the fight and the clash would be reminder enough.
“Kara—” Lee starts.
“Just leave it alone,” Kara snaps at him on her way out, taking the bottle with her. She stumbles to the showers, lets the water pulse over her skin as she closes her eyes. Harsh tears escape into the cascading water, a result of being drunk and stupid, as she closes her eyes and imagines Jean’s touch instead of her own between her legs.
Gods, Jean really is going to be that new scar on her heart, because Kara’s a frakking failure.
*
Kara’s a goddess. After all the weary trial and pain and time, that’s all Jean can think when she hears Helo’s voice calling out over the ridge. Jean walks out into the Caprica forest and sees Kara with a grin ten miles wide, goggles and a helmet parked crazily on her head, arms widespread. Jean walks straight into those arms and holds on tight.
“You’re back,” she says, and even with all the equipment, she still recognizes the feel of Kara.
“Told you,” Kara responds, and gives her a little push that means far more than it’s meant to.
Jean feels a bit of tightness dissipate, and a smile cracks across her face as she grabs Kara and half spins her with a kiss. Laughing against her mouth, Kara still manages to kiss back, and things are all right. War took its toll in time alone, and their lives are theirs to live again.
Other things happen, as they always do, but mostly Jean remembers Kara dragging her into a raptor, flying to the battlestar, showing her off, and then taking her to what Jean assumes are Kara’s quarters. What Cylons? They don’t exist in this world, not for them.
“Gods, I’ve missed you,” Jean breathes out, dragging her hands down Kara’s back as she leans in her arms, curving her hands down around Kara’s ass.
Kara’s lips and tongue send back a similar answer, and Jean drinks in the kiss with a moan at the back of her throat. But as Kara tries to push her back towards a bed, and Jean’s body starts to light up with more than just relief, she yanks her mouth away and mutters, “Showers. Showers first.” Kara laughs and gives her a bit of a shove, but Jean laughs back and rolls her eyes.
“A little demanding for someone whose ass I just saved,” Kara comments as, arm draped around Jean’s waist, they make it to the locker room.
“Surprised?”
“Turned on,” Kara answers with a light in her eyes, slipping out of her sweaty clothes.
Jean’s body aches for Kara with a throbbing beat, and it’s only a few more seconds before they’re soaked under the hot shower spray, hands soaped up and roaming with more than cleanliness in mind. Jean grinds the heel of her hand into Kara’s hip to remove a particular sweat stain, and Kara’s fingers slide over Jean’s breasts with a little tweak at her hard nipples. Indulgent touches that have been building up over months of absence—they overwhelm any other purpose.
Jean pushes Kara up against the slippery wall, sitting her on the ledge before parting her thighs, feeling a wetness not from the shower between them. She can smell Kara even through the steam and the smoke, and she kisses the spot between her neck and her shoulder before crushing her thumb into Kara’s clit. The woman moans, breath hot and heavy down Jean’s back, hands reaching to grip at her ass.
Her tongue running tenderly in paths around Kara’s neck and breasts, her fingers rough against her swollen folds, Jean loves Kara with all the life in her. Shower forgotten, she pushes harder against Kara, hand exploratory. Kara’s noises fill her body with sharp need, and when she grips on tightly and whispers, “Frak me harder”, Jean jumps to the task.
Flipping Kara so she faces the wall, Jean curves behind her, breasts pressed against the firm muscles of her back, hand slipping between her legs as Kara spreads them. “Missed me?” Jean murmurs as she tries to get every inch of her skin touching Kara’s.
“Sex now, taunting later,” Kara says through clenched teeth.
Jean obliges with two fingers hard into Kara’s pussy. The woman groans and thrusts her hips back. Jean lets her lips kiss up Kara’s shoulder and latch onto her neck as her fingers speak the language of raw desire. Kara’s muscles clench around them each time Jean drives them home, and she can taste the hint of sweat on her neck. Crushed together against the wall, Jean moves her fingers faster, curling them with each plunge, until Kara lets out half a scream and melts in her arms.
Then, in a few seconds of heat and steam where Jean’s also gasping for breath, Kara pulls her closer and returns the favor, and all the tension in Jean’s body just disappears in pure release. When she can catch her breath again, eyes half hooded after the strength of this pleasure, she kisses Kara softly. The shower still running, hot water turning to warm, she just holds on tight and is glad beyond words that Kara doesn’t pull away.
They’re too exhausted for taunting, too exhausted for thinking, too happy and peaceful to care. Prices were paid, now they have their reward. They manage to dress, and Kara drags Jean back to her room, and they collapse in a heap on the tiny bunk and Jean doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything except that she’s here, head pillowed on Kara’s stomach, and the world’s at peace.
Rating: NC-17
Length: 1834
Pairing: Kara/Jean Barolay
Summary: Sequel to Part 1 and Part 2, a Resistance AU where Jean is captain of the C-bucs.
Notes: For the
bsg_pornbattle prompts "war takes its toll" and "payoff"Her back against the wall, one hand clinging to the windowsill, Jean tries not to think and fails. Kara’s dropped between her legs, with a look in her eyes that’s killing, the kind that makes Jean think of stupid words like ‘love’ and ‘stay with me’. While Kara’s tongue swirls hotly around her clit, Jean lets out a whimper, not caring if it means she’s open. War has taken its toll on her emotions, but Kara makes her remember. She just doesn’t know if it’s the same on the other side.
“We’re gonna get that ship for you,” Jean gasps out, white-knuckling her hand around the sill to keep from pulling at Kara’s hair.
“Don’t talk about it,” Kara mutters harshly against her pussy, and thrusts her tongue in deep.
Jean bucks a little, back scraping against the wall, and she can’t help but say, “Then what?”
Kara’s answer is just to bury all thoughts with one full sweep of her tongue, pushing Jean over the edge until she’s screaming her name. “Mission,” Kara says, half breathless as she gets to her feet again. There’s a bit of a darkness in her eyes, behind the appreciation.
Jean can’t forget long enough. She grabs Kara’s face, kisses her with open mouth and thoughts bare for all to see. And Kara dissolves into her for that moment before chuckling a little and repeating the one word that drives them both: mission. They’re warriors before they’re lovers, always.
*
Helo keeps talking about it; of course he does. He’s still head over heels for Sharon, Cylon though she is, and projects that onto Kara as if it’s remotely the same. The funny thing is, Kara doesn’t know if it is or it isn’t. Jean’s a hell of a good frak, that’s for sure, and Kara’s always had a thing for redheads. But she keeps coming back, emotions exposed, for something else. Hell if she knows what it is, exactly.
“You two are something special,” he says, nudging her as they come back from yet another successful mission (just not one that will let her go home).
“Shut up,” she growls back. It means he’s right. Jean’s not like anything from Kara’s past; she doesn’t dig into the old scars of Zak and Lee. Maybe it’ll be good enough if Kara just keeps her from being a bright red new wound.
“You know that tactic was damn reckless,” Jean says with a sharp look, as she comes up and presses into Kara’s space.
“Wanna tell me exactly how you feel?” Kara throws back with a dance of her eyebrows.
“Frak you,” Jean growls, but grabs Kara’s ass to lead her out back.
Away from the team and all it stands for, their mouths crush together with the last bits of adrenaline, tongues warring, losing clothes along the way with no thought of tomorrow.
*
Jean’s there with a rescue when Kara hobbles her way out of the Farm, and her heart is a tight mess of worry. She wars with Helo for making sure Kara’s fine, finally snapping at him to keep a watch on his Cylon; maybe it offends them both, but Jean’s carefully rationed feelings are going towards Kara.
“Hey,” she says, voice breaking a little as she grips Kara’s hand.
“We’re gonna take out every last one of those frakking farms,” Kara spits, body trembling with her fear and rage alike.
Jean stares at her with an ache of her heart and shakes her head, lips firm. “No. You got your ship, just like I told you you would. You’re going back.”
“Frak no.”
“Frak yes.” Jean stares her down, gripping her hand harder. “You think I don’t care about something like that, you’re an idiot, Kara. And you’ve got something more important than this.”
She can see the shaking in Kara’s eyes, from the trauma of the day and from something more. Jean stands up and walks over to get the Arrow and hand it to her, and Kara follows with a smile that’s not really a smile. “I’m not leaving you behind.”
“Yes, you are,” Jean tells her, wrapping her hand around the grip Kara now has on the Arrow. Her heart might break, and she didn’t realize it could do that anymore. Her mouth quivers despite her control.
Kara yanks at the chain around her neck, pulling one dogtag loose and pushing it into Jean’s palm. “You can’t tell me not to come back, though. I’ll be back.” She didn’t have to say the words, it was written all over her face.
In the months that follow, Jean doesn’t forget what that looks like.
*
“This is about Caprica, right? That woman you left behind; Helo told me.”
“Jean’s dead by now, so it’s not like it matters,” Kara says under her breath, realizing with bitterness that the taste of Lee on her lips is not what she really wants right now. He’s hurt about the aborted attempt at a frak, but Kara’s drowning in it.
Lee stares at her, and something softens on his face. “Who is she to you?”
Kara refuses to answer, refuses to make it real. She can’t think right now, lost on alcohol but not enough, wanting Lee but not enough, wanting Jean but just having not enough resources. Maybe she should frak Kat—maybe the fight and the clash would be reminder enough.
“Kara—” Lee starts.
“Just leave it alone,” Kara snaps at him on her way out, taking the bottle with her. She stumbles to the showers, lets the water pulse over her skin as she closes her eyes. Harsh tears escape into the cascading water, a result of being drunk and stupid, as she closes her eyes and imagines Jean’s touch instead of her own between her legs.
Gods, Jean really is going to be that new scar on her heart, because Kara’s a frakking failure.
*
Kara’s a goddess. After all the weary trial and pain and time, that’s all Jean can think when she hears Helo’s voice calling out over the ridge. Jean walks out into the Caprica forest and sees Kara with a grin ten miles wide, goggles and a helmet parked crazily on her head, arms widespread. Jean walks straight into those arms and holds on tight.
“You’re back,” she says, and even with all the equipment, she still recognizes the feel of Kara.
“Told you,” Kara responds, and gives her a little push that means far more than it’s meant to.
Jean feels a bit of tightness dissipate, and a smile cracks across her face as she grabs Kara and half spins her with a kiss. Laughing against her mouth, Kara still manages to kiss back, and things are all right. War took its toll in time alone, and their lives are theirs to live again.
Other things happen, as they always do, but mostly Jean remembers Kara dragging her into a raptor, flying to the battlestar, showing her off, and then taking her to what Jean assumes are Kara’s quarters. What Cylons? They don’t exist in this world, not for them.
“Gods, I’ve missed you,” Jean breathes out, dragging her hands down Kara’s back as she leans in her arms, curving her hands down around Kara’s ass.
Kara’s lips and tongue send back a similar answer, and Jean drinks in the kiss with a moan at the back of her throat. But as Kara tries to push her back towards a bed, and Jean’s body starts to light up with more than just relief, she yanks her mouth away and mutters, “Showers. Showers first.” Kara laughs and gives her a bit of a shove, but Jean laughs back and rolls her eyes.
“A little demanding for someone whose ass I just saved,” Kara comments as, arm draped around Jean’s waist, they make it to the locker room.
“Surprised?”
“Turned on,” Kara answers with a light in her eyes, slipping out of her sweaty clothes.
Jean’s body aches for Kara with a throbbing beat, and it’s only a few more seconds before they’re soaked under the hot shower spray, hands soaped up and roaming with more than cleanliness in mind. Jean grinds the heel of her hand into Kara’s hip to remove a particular sweat stain, and Kara’s fingers slide over Jean’s breasts with a little tweak at her hard nipples. Indulgent touches that have been building up over months of absence—they overwhelm any other purpose.
Jean pushes Kara up against the slippery wall, sitting her on the ledge before parting her thighs, feeling a wetness not from the shower between them. She can smell Kara even through the steam and the smoke, and she kisses the spot between her neck and her shoulder before crushing her thumb into Kara’s clit. The woman moans, breath hot and heavy down Jean’s back, hands reaching to grip at her ass.
Her tongue running tenderly in paths around Kara’s neck and breasts, her fingers rough against her swollen folds, Jean loves Kara with all the life in her. Shower forgotten, she pushes harder against Kara, hand exploratory. Kara’s noises fill her body with sharp need, and when she grips on tightly and whispers, “Frak me harder”, Jean jumps to the task.
Flipping Kara so she faces the wall, Jean curves behind her, breasts pressed against the firm muscles of her back, hand slipping between her legs as Kara spreads them. “Missed me?” Jean murmurs as she tries to get every inch of her skin touching Kara’s.
“Sex now, taunting later,” Kara says through clenched teeth.
Jean obliges with two fingers hard into Kara’s pussy. The woman groans and thrusts her hips back. Jean lets her lips kiss up Kara’s shoulder and latch onto her neck as her fingers speak the language of raw desire. Kara’s muscles clench around them each time Jean drives them home, and she can taste the hint of sweat on her neck. Crushed together against the wall, Jean moves her fingers faster, curling them with each plunge, until Kara lets out half a scream and melts in her arms.
Then, in a few seconds of heat and steam where Jean’s also gasping for breath, Kara pulls her closer and returns the favor, and all the tension in Jean’s body just disappears in pure release. When she can catch her breath again, eyes half hooded after the strength of this pleasure, she kisses Kara softly. The shower still running, hot water turning to warm, she just holds on tight and is glad beyond words that Kara doesn’t pull away.
They’re too exhausted for taunting, too exhausted for thinking, too happy and peaceful to care. Prices were paid, now they have their reward. They manage to dress, and Kara drags Jean back to her room, and they collapse in a heap on the tiny bunk and Jean doesn’t care. She doesn’t care about anything except that she’s here, head pillowed on Kara’s stomach, and the world’s at peace.
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