Pairing: Kara Thrace/Sam Anders Spoilers: LYDB2, set: LYDB2.
Notes: I was being bored at work and running blogsearches with random phrases. One was "Anders is", and it pulled up a quote that's at the end, which inspired this fic. Yes. Thank you, MC 900 Foot Jesus, for the title.
Length: 1,200 Genre: Fluff, pwp
Never in a Rut by ALC Punk!
Lazy afternoon. Kara has no frakking clue what day it is, nor does she really care. It's afternoon, Galactica-time, and she's sprawled on her stomach, Sam Anders underneath her on his back. She'd be naked, but she had CAP earlier and never quite made it all of the way out of her clothes when she returned.
They both smell like sweat and sex, although Kara's pretty certain there's an undercurrent of viper. She likes the smell of viper and Sam. "You smell good," she notes lazily.
Sam blinks, then pulls an arm up and elaborately sniffs, "Nah. Don't."
"Do." Kara buries her nose in the side of his neck and sucks in a deep breath. "Mmm."
He shifts beneath her, muscles playing against her stomach and breasts. Skin against skin is still pleasant, even with satiation buoying her. "Three weeks."
"What?" She figures he's mostly trying to keep her talking so she doesn't sleep (given his predilections, he's probably hungry, and dinner'll be served in less than an hour). Either that, or he's bored.
"Since you rescued me."
"That long, huh?"
Kara ponders. The CAG should really be doing paperwork, but the CAG did paperwork like a good little Captain for two hours after her morning briefing. Besides. Three weeks is longer than anyone other than Zak. "Oh."
"That good, huh?"
"Good, bad..." She considers, then grins, "Impressed."
"I'm just that good," he says smugly.
"No, no, I'm impressed that I can't remember that it's been that long."
"Ooooh. So, all of that mind-blowing sex just screwed your brain."
She snickers, "Nah. It's all just a blur."
"Ow. I'm hurt."
Kara nudges his foot with one of hers. "Uh-huh."
Hands tug at the bunched-up tanks. "Keep mockin' me, and I might have to kick you out of bed."
"I'll have to go sleep with Duck, then."
"So do I." Kara lifts up, "Off."
"Yes, sir," He tugs the tanks the rest of the way off, freeing one hand immediately to cop a feel.
"Mmm. Thought you were tired."
"Nah, you haven't worn me out yet."
Kara laughs, then wriggles her way around and onto her back until her feet are at his head. "Socks off."
"Whew." He waves a hand in front of his nose and then catches one ankle, stroking a finger idly on it. "Officers have smelly feet."
"So do you."
He yanks the sock off and brushes a finger up her sole, making her jump. "Ticklish?"
"Frak, no." She lies through gritted teeth.
A devilish gleam enters his eyes. "That's sad. So, if I do this..." Two fingers, this time, and lazy patterns which set her nerves twitching.
So she kicks him.
"You were tickling me."
"You said you weren't ticklish," he wheezes.
Sam yanks the second sock off, grabs both of her ankles, and rolls sideways. Kara's shriek echoes in the room, but no one comes running to find out how the CAG got her ass dumped on the floor.
"Oh, you are so paying for that," she informs him, from her prone position on the cold metal decking.
"Need a hand?"
"No, but you will."
He raises both eyebrows, then actually looks a little worried at the dangerous light in her eyes as she stands up again. She's naked and they just had really fantastic sex, and Sam is suddenly worried about whether he will survive to have sex again. "Uh, Kara..."
When she pounces, he's half ready, and he catches her hands, but not her legs. Two seconds later, she's at the back of the rack, feet shoved into his side.
They both tumble out, this time, but he lands hardest. "Ow."
"You're such a whiny bitch, Sam."
He rolls and yanks her down to kiss her, not caring about the cold. "C'mere."
"Mmm." She lets him kiss her, then wriggles free and straddles his chest, eyeing him. "Three weeks, huh?"
"Yeah." His hands settle on her hips. He thinks, for a second, that the world could freeze and they'd be stuck like this forever. It wouldn't be half-bad. But then, he had a lot of time while trying to stay alive and waiting for her to come back, to do a lot of thinking. Thinking that told him letting her go had been stupid--except that it hadn't. She'd needed to get back to the fleet. And he'd figured it wasn't going to last anyway.
And maybe it still won't.
It's that thought that makes him pull at her hips and wriggle down until his head is between her thighs. "So, I gotta apologize, right?"
"That'd be nice." She replies, tone lazy, but eyes dark as she looks down at him.
"Can't be mean, now." Letting out a breath, Sam gets the last bit of distance out of the way by yanking at her hips.
The soft little Kara-gasp is the last thing he really hears for a bit, though he can feel her. It's different, with the deck at his back and her hand clutching his hair. The muscles in her legs twitch, and he can feel the sweat bead on her skin as his tongue speeds, then slows.
The technique isn't delicate, but neither is Kara Thrace.
When her grip tightens, he knows she's close. Close enough that when he gently bites down, he can hear her moan.
It's a little difficult, but he gets his arms free and slides his hands up her sides. He used to get teased for his freakishly long arms, now they're an asset. Both hands brush the bottoms of her breasts and she bends so he can fondle them.
He bites down again, and this time it's enough and she's gone. Hand clenching in his hair, body shaking, breath no longer gasps, but tiny little whimpers and moans that tell him he's done good.
Sam likes to think he can be forgiven for being a little smug about the things he does to Kara Thrace.
It's not like she isn't as bad, if not worse.
He's pretty sure she can make him hard with just a look.
The hand in his hair relaxes, fingers combing out and she leans forward to prop herself against the rack.
Sam wriggles a bit to free himself and looks at her. "Hey."
"Am I forgiven?"
She chuckles and grabs one of his hands. "Oh, yeah."
"Good. Can we get back in bed?" He doesn't care that he's almost whining.
"Uh-huh." She crawls, completely inelegant and flops across the entire surface, sleepy eyes staring at him.
"Dinner's in twenty minutes," He reminds her, dragging himself up enough to crawl in next to her--once he'd shoved some of her out of his way.
Kara resettles against his chest and yawns. "Then wake me in ten."
"All right." He can just see the clock from here.
She's out like a light ten seconds later, breathing even. He thinks it's kind of cute, how easily she falls asleep. Sometimes, he wonders if it's because of the good sex. Or maybe if it's because she trusts him. It's not something he wants to ask. Not yet.
"In our relationship Anders is the one to remember all our anniversaries, while I can barely remember the wedding day" - quote from random online source.