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rubberneck,it's beta free, involves the misuse of food products, undoubtedly contains erroneous assumptions about marriage and parenthood, and was not the romp I thought it would be.
That being said, it is definitely all about the hot monkeysex, although I could not bring myself to actually use spunk as that sort of noun. Call me prudish if you will:)
The title is fromraithen who misread something earlier. It tickled me so much that I'm sticking with it.
So, here is your fic. It in no way measures up to the marvelousness of the CD's, but I had a hell of a good time writing it.crankygrrl says my self-amusement can be excused due to too much Tom Robbins this week.
It's NC-17 kids. In my world, that means there's pickle tickling.
Snorkeling Towards Ecstasy
Ten solar days.
That couldn’t be right, could it? But as she backtracked in her head, the ache between her thighs, the heaviness of her breasts and sensitivity of her skin told her that she was indeed right. It had been ten days since she’d frelled her husband, the longest they’d gone since Kai had been born, screaming and squalling her way into this existence like she had an absolute right to be here.
The child had never looked back, but a recent spate of sleeplessness, her slumber haunted by nightmares of unknown origin, had taken it’s toll on both her parents as she curled between them, small body warm and sweet and harboring far too many sharp knees and elbows for so small a creature. So they weren’t frelling, and they weren’t sleeping either.
Before Kai’s run of nightmares, the crew had bargained to run some mercenaries to the outer edge of the Uncharted Territories. The decision had caused serious dissension. She and John had scratched and clawed and snarled at each other, going to bed both angry and frustrated.
And, oh for Cholak’s sake, before that had been the simultaneous ruptures in the amnexus lines. Messy, sticky, virulently disgusting ruptures that had taken two solid days to fix. They had frelled that night, but it had been perfunctory at best, a few measly thrusts and grunts and soft murmurs and then sleep.
So ten days. Ten days since she’d gotten her cage rattled, fucked her husband, come screaming against his shoulder or a pillow or the vigorous spray of the shower. She was itchy and restless and while bringing herself off was certainly an option, it wasn’t the best of all possible worlds. She wanted John’s hands, not her own, his clever tongue and wicked grin and fertile imagination. It also struck her, low in her gut where guilt and hurt still lived, that they’d never really said sorry, the fight over the mercenaries haunting her, the skin they’d burned off each other in the exchange still tender.
Frell it. She missed John. She loved her child more than life, but she wanted her husband in her bed, wrapped around her, frelling her senseless. Saying soft, nonsensical human things to her as they both drifted off, sated and spent, making her giggle despite herself and touch his face with a rush of love as fierce and violent as anything she felt for Kai.
And if John’s current brash flippancy was any indication, he was feeling it as badly as she was. They’d been alternately sniping at each other and being sickeningly polite. He’d even yelled at Chiana the day before, losing his temper over something inane, throwing down a wrench and roaring like a treznot. It was time to do something about this.
Aeryn found John passing a weary arn on Command, rubbing his eyes and drinking bitter coffee as he monitored systems and the stars. He gave her a half-hearted smile when she walked in. She drew a determined breath. There was no point beating around the bush. Especially as it was her bush that needed beating.
“We need to have sex.
He choked on his coffee. “Damn baby. That’s quite a come on.”
She glared at him. “Kai’s napping. In her own bed for once. Nothing’s exploding, no one’s shooting at us, your shift is almost over and we haven’t frelled in ten solar days.”
“You’re keeping score?”
He managed to sound amazed at the most ludicrous things and she bared her teeth at him. “Yes. When you’re finished here, meet me in our quarters.”
“That’s real romantic, Aeryn. ‘Hi honey. It’s been a while, let’s fuck.’ ”
She raised an eyebrow and he flushed.
“Ok, so maybe it’s a hell of a come on.”
She licked her lips, smiled at him slowly and then turned and left, sauntering with a hip swaying motion that felt like a tralk’s call but generally left John on his knees.
She took her time once she got back to their quarters, estimating a good half an arn if Kai continued to sleep, her small body boneless and warm in her small bed, 1812 watching her intently, eyestalks twitching when she did. Aeryn stripped off her clothes, folding them neatly and stepped towards the shower. The water was pleasantly warm on her skin as she stepped under the spray, letting it soak her heavy mass of hair, closing her eyes, happy to have found an easy solution to at least something in their lives.
She heard the grill open and close and her smile grew wider at the thought of John, soap and water and the slick, solid wall of this shower. She tilted her head back letting the water beat against her and then let her lips part at the sound of a low, throaty chuckle. She ran her hands down her body, sliding over her breasts, the nipples hardening, before moving away from the downpour and opening her eyes. John rested his arm on the partition, head tilted against it watching her with bright eyes, lust and laughter at the ready.
“You’re right,” he said softly. “It’s been way too long.” Then he smiled at her, sweet and slow and backed away from the partition. She could see his shirt sailing into the air, and as she moved towards the entrance to welcome him, Moya gave a sickening lurch forward, sending her into the shower wall. The thump and curse from outside the shower suggested that John, too, had gone sliding into a solid surface of something.
“What the frell was that?” John hollered, and she sighed, knowing this chance had just been blown.
The "that" had turned out to be Narillium merchants with a slow leak and a piss poor navigational system who had apparently missed the giant frelling Leviathan in their path. Six arns, a slew of repairs and a ship of dispatched merchants later, John approached her in the mess, strong fingers digging into the knots in her shoulders, his touch sure with enough pressure to ease her pain, his weight behind his work.
She didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed when he stopped, sliding behind her on the bench, solid thighs bracketing hers. His warm, damp mouth slid over her neck, licking up the side of it while his hand found it’s way underneath her vest to splay over her belly. She reached behind to stoke the soft hairs at his nape and relaxed into him. They were alone for the moment, Kai getting a much needed bath, the galley a dimly lit haven of quiet. The Narilium merchants were tuned to a different sound frequency. They’d been very shrill and very loud.
John nipped at her earlobe and as her stomach fluttered in anticipation, he ventured those nimble fingers into the waistband of her pants, wiggling for home. A few crucial microdenches, and he’d have made her day. She gripped his thigh, scooting backwards to press her ass against his hardening cock and he made a low sound of want in her ear and stretched, rough fingertips sliding across her clit in a delicate tease. She canted her pelvis to give him better access and then moaned as he cupped her, a finger slipping between the lips of her sex to stroke her into giddiness.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered and he laughed. She turned her head, searching for his mouth, had made contact, tongue against his soft lips when his com bleated like a dying melacat. “Crichton.” D’Argo yelled. “You need to get down here, now!”
“Not quite yet,” she whispered huskily, wiggling her ass and trying to will more of his fingers into her sex. D’Argo bellowed again, followed by the sound of Rygel’s thronesled as it whirred into the galley.
She let go of John and banged her head against the table.
***
“The merchants were so grateful they set up a meeting with some friendly neighborhood arms dealers,” John said, the doors whooshing shut behind him as he entered their quarters in the dark. “They were very insistent about setting up a meeting, but got a little nervous about out CV's. We practically had to turn our heads and cough to settle them down.”
Aeryn sat up and put a finger to her lips, jerking her head at the dark haired girl asleep next to her. John shook his head and dropped his gun belt on the table. He sat down on the bed next to Aeryn, and started to unknot his boots. She raised herself up on her elbow, and reached up to caress his skull, scrapping blunt fingernails against the sensitive skin. He moaned a little, and turned to her, ducking down to rest his forehead against hers, seeking out her mouth. His free hand curled into her loose hair as the kiss deepened, hot and wet and sweet, the stroke of his tongue, the pull of her hair lighting her up as he drank her in.
She sat up, not breaking the kiss, and slid her hand over his thigh to cup his penis through the leather pants. He groaned into her mouth and she tightened her grip as he moved to her neck. She arched her throat as his teeth scraped against the fine skin. She could feel her blood pounding, could hear his heart thumping in the dark, his cock growing hard against her palm. He let go of the boot which thumped against the metallic floor. Kai woke with a whimper, kicking Aeryn in the back. They let go of each other instantly and she flopped back down onto the bed while Kai sat up, dark curls wild and rumpled, eyes wide and wary. She spotted John, even in the dark and her tiny white teeth flashed. “Daddy,” she said in bright relief.
Aeryn groaned, and Kai looked down at her. John shook his head and shed his clothing. “Scoot over, chicken little,” he said and she wiggled closer to Aeryn as he crawled into bed. “In the morning,” he said, nuzzling his daughter’s nose, earning a giggle, “We’re gonna talk about these sleeping arrangements.”
***
Sex had, understandably, become something more than love and release. It had transitioned into an obsession over the past two solar days. Every attempt they’d made had ended in interruption or near disaster. A tryst in the laundry room had been abrptly aborted by them flushing the amnexus pool out when her vest lodged in the drain and almost flooded the room.
Her oral ministrations in the corridor had almost ended their sex lives completely when Moya had hiccupped, startling them both, and bringing Chiana careening down the hallway at John’s scream of pain. She’d found them disgruntled, Aeryn sitting cross-legged on the floor head in her hands and John cupping his genitals and glaring at his wife.
Chiana’d had the sense to quietly back away, but after that, John’s enthuisasm had been nonexistent and she’d been surprised by the hurt she felt when she stumbled into the fresher that morning to find him with one hand braced against the sink, the other wrapped around his cock, expression caught somewhere between pleasure and duty. She hadn’t said anything, just left the room and went to sit on the bed, not saying anything when he came out and got dressed. She was still silent when he laid a gentle hand on her head before leaving.
***
The arms dealers were big, burly and probably not as stupid as they looked. After an excrutiatingly long negotiation, they went off to consult some sort of higher authority. D’Argo tossed back a shot of something cloudy and spiced, coughing as his eyes watered in pleasure. John just grinned, a smart-assed half smile and tilted the bottle of fellip nectar back, closing his eyes at the taste. There were bruised shadows under his eyes. She had a matched set. He was still so beautiful though, the strong jaw and soft mouth, long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones and she scooted her foot over, rubbing the back of his calf in a gentle caress. He eased his leg away and gave her a small grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She angled her head, puzzled and then reached to the side, fingers sliding underneath his shirt to stroke his skin. He shivered and then reached down, and quietly removed her hand. She was taken aback and he jerked his head at the corner. “They’re on their way,” he said, and she saw the arms dealers returning and moved away from her mate.
She and John were loading the weapons into the pod while D’Argo finalized arrangements. The air between them was strained and she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What’s your problem,” she hissed.
“I don’t have a problem,” he shot back.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” she asked, struggling to keep the hurt out of her voice. This was idiotic, the conversation and the situation. She would not whine like a 14 cycle old cadet.
“I’m not avoiding you,” he growled back. “But what the hell were you doing feeling me up in the middle of something like that?”
She dropped the box of arms, hand fumbling for her pulse pistol, wordless with fury at his hypocrisy. “You.” She fought for words, not English, not Human just something to help her wrap her tongue around the loathing and the hurt coursing through her. “You skoulisha.”
His eyebrows drew together and she kicked the box in an effort not to hit him. “That doesn’t even translate,” he said.
“Frell you,” she snarled.
And his eyes got dark. He stepped towards her. “That’s the problem,” he said low and angry and mean. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Frelling. The past week has been all about frelling.”
His fingers dug into her arms hard enough to leave bruises and he shoved her up against the side of the pod. “You’ve gotten some bug up your ass about us having sex, so what’s your problem?” He pushed closer to her as he enunciated the words, the weight of his body forcing her onto the pod.
“What is the fucking problem here, Aeryn?” he hissed again, his face very close to hers, breath hot on her skin. Her nipples tightened and blood throbbed in her cunt. She should shove him away, hurt him or answer back, cut into him like he was doing to her but as he looked at her, chest heaving, eyes dark with anger, she slumped in his grip, asking herself the same question. “What the frell was wrong with her? And why, after all this time, didn’t he want her?” She could see her emotional swing hit him as well.
His gaze softened. “Baby,” he whispered, low and cajoling and he bent his head to kiss her, lips brushing over hers.
“Oh, get a room,” D’Argo grumbled, kicking the same crate that she’d dropped. “And why aren’t you two finished loading these things.”
John stepped away from her and they silently finished the job.
***
It looked like one of those town meetings from the Westerns John so loved and it felt like an ambush. A full dinner; Kai playing happily in the next room while Uncle Rygel corrupted her soul; D’Argo and Chiana facing each other over the table. John was trapped between them on the other side of the table, forking his dinner down his throat at a rate that guaranteed he was going to choke sooner or later.
“Aeryn,” Chiana called. “Come have some dinner.”
She had no reason to refuse aside from the spike of dread in her belly and so she warily approached the table. When Aeryn had taken something from the brightly colored dishes, Chiana smiled widely.
“D’Argo said that you two have been having trouble with sex.”
“Oh Jesus Christ.” John dropped his fork down and put his forehead in his hand, shaking it. “Please, Chi, we really don’t need Dr. Ruth.”
“Well, it’s not like you two to not have sex.”
John just gave another low moan and D’Argo interceded.
“It is true John. We understand that you may need some more privacy. All you need to do is ask. We’d be happy to make arrangements for you.”
“D. Really. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Why not?” said Aeryn suddenly.
“Because our sex life really isn’t anyone’s business but ours, honey,” he said between gritted teeth.
She arched her eyebrow. “What sex life?” she bit out.
Chiana giggled nervously, D’Argo groaned and John slammed his hand down on the table. “Christ Aeryn, that’s the problem. You’ve got it in your head that this is some kind of job, some kind of frelling chore. It’s not a hell of a lot of fun.”
She narrowed her eyes, “Is that an excuse?” she said, more roughly than she meant to.
"Goddamnit Aeryn," he finally exploded. "This isn't the Peacekeepers. There's no regulations for frelling. If we don't stick to the every other day schedule, no one's gonna hand you a personalized vibrator and say go have some alone time. This is real life and we fuck when we want too." He slammed down his hand. "Right now, maybe I don't want to."
She was utterly still, staring at him, willing her temper back into place, trying to listen to him, trying not to give into the rage or the rejection.
"You can get those on Rilla Prime." They both looked at Chiana. "They'll make a life cast. Put your name on it if you want."
Aeryn opened her mouth, shut it abruptly and got up from the table. She heard the crash of crockery, and John yelling “Goddamned son of a bitch.” She plucked off her com and dropped it on the floor, grinding it under her heel.
***
Kai was snuggled tightly against her as they rocked in the wooden chair D’Argo had build, pointing out pictures of various earth animals in the book when John knocked on the door.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said through the bars of the former cell. “Gifts, apologies and an offer.” She thought about it for a microt.
“What kind of gifts?” she asked while Kai turned the pages, sticky fingers reverent against the paper.
John paused. “Um, Hynerian brandy and maraschino cherries.”
She harrumphed.
“Gimmee a break, I’m tryin’ here.” He said, but he didn’t sound angry.
She hefted Kai onto her hip, her daughters hands wrapping around her neck, curling into her hair and went over to the door. The gates slid back and her husband leaned against the doorjamb, looking a little contrite, a little serious and a lot beautiful.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.”
She waited.
“We need to talk.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry I was an asshole.” Kai’s head cocked at that and he shook his head and grinned at his child, holding out his arms for her, trading Aeryn the bottles for his daughter.
“You,” he said, “are going to have a slumber party with Aunt Chiana because sometimes your Mom is right.”
“Sometimes,” Aeryn mouthed, arching an eyebrow.
He gave her a slow, simmering grin and then Kai bounced and squealed.
“Come on chicken boo,” he said, then turned back to Aeryn. “10 microts,” he said, and she nodded.
She’d opened both the brandy and the cherries by the time he returned, equally dubious of both. He took off his belt and his boots at the entrance to the room, tossed them in a corner, disappeared to the fresher, returning with cups and then shut the door, pulled the privacy curtain shut and locked them in. Aeryn sat on the floor, back against the bed. She poured herself some of the brandy and drank it slowly while he sat down facing her.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you and I want you and I don’t know what’s going on, but I have some pretty solid theories.”
She drank the rest of the brandy then set the cup down carefully on the floor next to her.
“I love you, too,” she said softly. “But there are days when I look at you and you don’t look back.” She sighed. “Do you trust me?” she looked back at him.
His eyes were glassy and he hesitated. Her stomach clenched, but she waited, watching him intently and then his features evened out, eyes clearing to that lovely crystalline blue and she was almost relieved.
“With my life, with my child, with my heart.” He whispered, “And even with my module, should you decide to take the Hyundai on days when the Jag is in the shop.”
“The mercenaries,” she said quietly, the words feeling thick and awkward out loud. “That was bad, and things happened, and Kai, and I missed you, and then it felt like you didn’t want to have sex. I thought you didn’t want me. I thought that we’d said things that had broken everything and that you were afraid to tell me.”
He reached forward, wrapping his hand around her booted ankle. “We were exhausted, and maybe I was still a little pissed, but I always want you, baby. It just got to be a little much, and sometimes we,” he blushed, “men, humans, we don’t do too well under pressure.”
She sighed, honest relief this time. “Well,” she said with a grin, “I guess that means I don’t have to take you to Rilla Prime and trade you in for a life cast then.”
He laughed and lazily reached over her for the cherries, which she snatched out of his hand. “My presents,” she said, opening the jar. They smelled like sugar, not at all resembling the scent of the fruit they’d eaten on Earth. She fished in the jar, pulled one out by the stem and looked at it and John gave another low laugh.
“I think I have an idea,” and he lunged for her, straddling her body while she held the jar over his head.
It didn’t take long to discover that yes, she could indeed tie the cherry stem into a knot with a few flicks of her tongue, nor did it take much longer to discover that the trick short circuited her mate's brain. He took the jar of cherries and fished one out himself, then took a swig of the brandy, straight from the bottle and leaned forward, kissing her sloppily, mouth stick with brandy. She kissed him back, licking the sweetness from his lips. He leered at her, and dropped the cherry down her shirt in order to fish it back out.
Her torso streaked red with the syrup, she pealed off her garments and tossed her shrit and bra into the corner. John stroked gentle fingers over her breasts, pressing against the nipples. He took one into his mouth, sucking gently, teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh and she arched her back at the pleasure. He came back to her mouth, delivering another gentle kiss and then drew out another cherry, drawing patterns over her body, his tongue sliding over the syrupy residue.
She giggled as he stroked her sides lightly and she tugged at his shirt, and they worked together in a flurry. Hands on leather, shifting and shoving and tugging to wriggle out of clothes that were suddenly unbearably cloying and tight, keeping them from the silk of each other’s flesh. Mouths moved together, tongues tangling as they rolled and kissed, as hands darted down to slide over genitals, over the curve of bone and tight, taut muscle.
She pinned him to the ground, hands over his head, kissing him thoroughly, sopping sex pressing against his cock, her whole body a conduit for heat and for want, vibrating with the electricity of a highly anticipated fuck. She sat up, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, his cock bobbing against her ass and scraped her fingernails over his chest.
“Is it still work?” she growled low in her throat, unable to wipe the grin off of her face. His fingers danced over her clit and she caught her breath as he turned his hand, wiggled in between their bodies, she rocked back, giving him better access, rising up so he could thrust inside her. “You need more of an answer?” he laughed, thrusting slowly, agonizingly slowly as her internal muscles clenched and her skin ignited and she came, tight and hot and throbbing with a whimper and a cry.
She scooted back as his fingers slid out of her, damp and sticky, reaching between her legs to find his cock, and then sinking onto him with a grunt. She rocked her pelvis forward, his cock tapping at her cervix and grunted again. He grabbed her hips, slamming up into her, fleshing slapping in an off balance rhythm, the slidy, sputtery sound of hot, damp flesh coming together not exactly beautiful, but endearing, and then it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, not the skin scraping off her knees from the metal floor.
Not John’s wiggling and scooting as his back stuck to the floor, friction and gravity and the laws of science working against them as they struggled for purchase and for completion.
And finally not John rolling her off him, onto her stomach, his greater mass holding them in place as she held onto the edge of the bed, frelling her from behind, his hips and balls slapping against her ass, both of them grateful that the bed was nailed down and until she came again, bearing down on John’s cock buried deep inside her, his hand wrapped in her hair, the other slapping against the golden frame of the bed as muscle control dissipated and he climaxd with a final thrust.
She was pracitically purring when all of her atoms rearranged themselves back into something resembling her body and she crawled onto the bed, where John flopped beside her, sweaty and covered in red syrup. She giggled and he looked at his chest, and then flopped back down on top of her, reaching for the jar of cherries.
“I’m not done with these,” he said with a leer, fishing out a handful and moving down her body. They’d never get the sheets clean, she thought as he fulfilled his promise, candied cherries ripe in her cunt, his nimble, clever tongue coaxing them out, coaxing another mind-numbing orgasm out of her. He held the last cherry by its stem between his teeth as he moved back up her body, sinking down on top of her and offering her the candy, which she took, sucking in the musky flavor of their sex and the sugary sweetness of the cherry as she bit down on it, then bit down more gently on his tongue as it snuck into her mouth. They kissed langourously, slow and deep, enjoying the soft stupor of orgasm and silliness and the dance of tongues and teeth.
“How long?” she asked, yawning, eyes closed, body tingling from release. “Arns,” John said drowsily, and nuzzled her neck, closing his eyes as she slid her hand caressingly up and down his back.
***
Aeryn stood in the doorway, watching her child and her mate concoct something more or less edible.
Kai sat on the table in the galley, short legs swinging, knocking against the bottom. “Wass it called?” she asked in English. She sounded far less suspicious than Aeryn would have been, but Kai's faith in John was infinite.
“A Shirley Temple,” he said, pouring something fizzy and sweet into a glass. “Kids on earth love it.”
Kai nodded sagely and Aeryn grinned at her. “And voila,” said John, “The finishing touch.”
He slid over a bottle of cherries and popped open the top. Aeryn felt the blush start on her cheeks and cleared her throat, eyes wide, appalled.
John caught sight of her, and winked. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ve got plenty to go around.”
rubberneck,it's beta free, involves the misuse of food products, undoubtedly contains erroneous assumptions about marriage and parenthood, and was not the romp I thought it would be. That being said, it is definitely all about the hot monkeysex, although I could not bring myself to actually use spunk as that sort of noun. Call me prudish if you will:)
The title is from
raithen who misread something earlier. It tickled me so much that I'm sticking with it.So, here is your fic. It in no way measures up to the marvelousness of the CD's, but I had a hell of a good time writing it.
crankygrrl says my self-amusement can be excused due to too much Tom Robbins this week.It's NC-17 kids. In my world, that means there's pickle tickling.
Snorkeling Towards Ecstasy
Ten solar days.
That couldn’t be right, could it? But as she backtracked in her head, the ache between her thighs, the heaviness of her breasts and sensitivity of her skin told her that she was indeed right. It had been ten days since she’d frelled her husband, the longest they’d gone since Kai had been born, screaming and squalling her way into this existence like she had an absolute right to be here.
The child had never looked back, but a recent spate of sleeplessness, her slumber haunted by nightmares of unknown origin, had taken it’s toll on both her parents as she curled between them, small body warm and sweet and harboring far too many sharp knees and elbows for so small a creature. So they weren’t frelling, and they weren’t sleeping either.
Before Kai’s run of nightmares, the crew had bargained to run some mercenaries to the outer edge of the Uncharted Territories. The decision had caused serious dissension. She and John had scratched and clawed and snarled at each other, going to bed both angry and frustrated.
And, oh for Cholak’s sake, before that had been the simultaneous ruptures in the amnexus lines. Messy, sticky, virulently disgusting ruptures that had taken two solid days to fix. They had frelled that night, but it had been perfunctory at best, a few measly thrusts and grunts and soft murmurs and then sleep.
So ten days. Ten days since she’d gotten her cage rattled, fucked her husband, come screaming against his shoulder or a pillow or the vigorous spray of the shower. She was itchy and restless and while bringing herself off was certainly an option, it wasn’t the best of all possible worlds. She wanted John’s hands, not her own, his clever tongue and wicked grin and fertile imagination. It also struck her, low in her gut where guilt and hurt still lived, that they’d never really said sorry, the fight over the mercenaries haunting her, the skin they’d burned off each other in the exchange still tender.
Frell it. She missed John. She loved her child more than life, but she wanted her husband in her bed, wrapped around her, frelling her senseless. Saying soft, nonsensical human things to her as they both drifted off, sated and spent, making her giggle despite herself and touch his face with a rush of love as fierce and violent as anything she felt for Kai.
And if John’s current brash flippancy was any indication, he was feeling it as badly as she was. They’d been alternately sniping at each other and being sickeningly polite. He’d even yelled at Chiana the day before, losing his temper over something inane, throwing down a wrench and roaring like a treznot. It was time to do something about this.
Aeryn found John passing a weary arn on Command, rubbing his eyes and drinking bitter coffee as he monitored systems and the stars. He gave her a half-hearted smile when she walked in. She drew a determined breath. There was no point beating around the bush. Especially as it was her bush that needed beating.
“We need to have sex.
He choked on his coffee. “Damn baby. That’s quite a come on.”
She glared at him. “Kai’s napping. In her own bed for once. Nothing’s exploding, no one’s shooting at us, your shift is almost over and we haven’t frelled in ten solar days.”
“You’re keeping score?”
He managed to sound amazed at the most ludicrous things and she bared her teeth at him. “Yes. When you’re finished here, meet me in our quarters.”
“That’s real romantic, Aeryn. ‘Hi honey. It’s been a while, let’s fuck.’ ”
She raised an eyebrow and he flushed.
“Ok, so maybe it’s a hell of a come on.”
She licked her lips, smiled at him slowly and then turned and left, sauntering with a hip swaying motion that felt like a tralk’s call but generally left John on his knees.
She took her time once she got back to their quarters, estimating a good half an arn if Kai continued to sleep, her small body boneless and warm in her small bed, 1812 watching her intently, eyestalks twitching when she did. Aeryn stripped off her clothes, folding them neatly and stepped towards the shower. The water was pleasantly warm on her skin as she stepped under the spray, letting it soak her heavy mass of hair, closing her eyes, happy to have found an easy solution to at least something in their lives.
She heard the grill open and close and her smile grew wider at the thought of John, soap and water and the slick, solid wall of this shower. She tilted her head back letting the water beat against her and then let her lips part at the sound of a low, throaty chuckle. She ran her hands down her body, sliding over her breasts, the nipples hardening, before moving away from the downpour and opening her eyes. John rested his arm on the partition, head tilted against it watching her with bright eyes, lust and laughter at the ready.
“You’re right,” he said softly. “It’s been way too long.” Then he smiled at her, sweet and slow and backed away from the partition. She could see his shirt sailing into the air, and as she moved towards the entrance to welcome him, Moya gave a sickening lurch forward, sending her into the shower wall. The thump and curse from outside the shower suggested that John, too, had gone sliding into a solid surface of something.
“What the frell was that?” John hollered, and she sighed, knowing this chance had just been blown.
The "that" had turned out to be Narillium merchants with a slow leak and a piss poor navigational system who had apparently missed the giant frelling Leviathan in their path. Six arns, a slew of repairs and a ship of dispatched merchants later, John approached her in the mess, strong fingers digging into the knots in her shoulders, his touch sure with enough pressure to ease her pain, his weight behind his work.
She didn’t know whether to be grateful or annoyed when he stopped, sliding behind her on the bench, solid thighs bracketing hers. His warm, damp mouth slid over her neck, licking up the side of it while his hand found it’s way underneath her vest to splay over her belly. She reached behind to stoke the soft hairs at his nape and relaxed into him. They were alone for the moment, Kai getting a much needed bath, the galley a dimly lit haven of quiet. The Narilium merchants were tuned to a different sound frequency. They’d been very shrill and very loud.
John nipped at her earlobe and as her stomach fluttered in anticipation, he ventured those nimble fingers into the waistband of her pants, wiggling for home. A few crucial microdenches, and he’d have made her day. She gripped his thigh, scooting backwards to press her ass against his hardening cock and he made a low sound of want in her ear and stretched, rough fingertips sliding across her clit in a delicate tease. She canted her pelvis to give him better access and then moaned as he cupped her, a finger slipping between the lips of her sex to stroke her into giddiness.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered and he laughed. She turned her head, searching for his mouth, had made contact, tongue against his soft lips when his com bleated like a dying melacat. “Crichton.” D’Argo yelled. “You need to get down here, now!”
“Not quite yet,” she whispered huskily, wiggling her ass and trying to will more of his fingers into her sex. D’Argo bellowed again, followed by the sound of Rygel’s thronesled as it whirred into the galley.
She let go of John and banged her head against the table.
***
“The merchants were so grateful they set up a meeting with some friendly neighborhood arms dealers,” John said, the doors whooshing shut behind him as he entered their quarters in the dark. “They were very insistent about setting up a meeting, but got a little nervous about out CV's. We practically had to turn our heads and cough to settle them down.”
Aeryn sat up and put a finger to her lips, jerking her head at the dark haired girl asleep next to her. John shook his head and dropped his gun belt on the table. He sat down on the bed next to Aeryn, and started to unknot his boots. She raised herself up on her elbow, and reached up to caress his skull, scrapping blunt fingernails against the sensitive skin. He moaned a little, and turned to her, ducking down to rest his forehead against hers, seeking out her mouth. His free hand curled into her loose hair as the kiss deepened, hot and wet and sweet, the stroke of his tongue, the pull of her hair lighting her up as he drank her in.
She sat up, not breaking the kiss, and slid her hand over his thigh to cup his penis through the leather pants. He groaned into her mouth and she tightened her grip as he moved to her neck. She arched her throat as his teeth scraped against the fine skin. She could feel her blood pounding, could hear his heart thumping in the dark, his cock growing hard against her palm. He let go of the boot which thumped against the metallic floor. Kai woke with a whimper, kicking Aeryn in the back. They let go of each other instantly and she flopped back down onto the bed while Kai sat up, dark curls wild and rumpled, eyes wide and wary. She spotted John, even in the dark and her tiny white teeth flashed. “Daddy,” she said in bright relief.
Aeryn groaned, and Kai looked down at her. John shook his head and shed his clothing. “Scoot over, chicken little,” he said and she wiggled closer to Aeryn as he crawled into bed. “In the morning,” he said, nuzzling his daughter’s nose, earning a giggle, “We’re gonna talk about these sleeping arrangements.”
***
Sex had, understandably, become something more than love and release. It had transitioned into an obsession over the past two solar days. Every attempt they’d made had ended in interruption or near disaster. A tryst in the laundry room had been abrptly aborted by them flushing the amnexus pool out when her vest lodged in the drain and almost flooded the room.
Her oral ministrations in the corridor had almost ended their sex lives completely when Moya had hiccupped, startling them both, and bringing Chiana careening down the hallway at John’s scream of pain. She’d found them disgruntled, Aeryn sitting cross-legged on the floor head in her hands and John cupping his genitals and glaring at his wife.
Chiana’d had the sense to quietly back away, but after that, John’s enthuisasm had been nonexistent and she’d been surprised by the hurt she felt when she stumbled into the fresher that morning to find him with one hand braced against the sink, the other wrapped around his cock, expression caught somewhere between pleasure and duty. She hadn’t said anything, just left the room and went to sit on the bed, not saying anything when he came out and got dressed. She was still silent when he laid a gentle hand on her head before leaving.
***
The arms dealers were big, burly and probably not as stupid as they looked. After an excrutiatingly long negotiation, they went off to consult some sort of higher authority. D’Argo tossed back a shot of something cloudy and spiced, coughing as his eyes watered in pleasure. John just grinned, a smart-assed half smile and tilted the bottle of fellip nectar back, closing his eyes at the taste. There were bruised shadows under his eyes. She had a matched set. He was still so beautiful though, the strong jaw and soft mouth, long lashes fluttering against his cheekbones and she scooted her foot over, rubbing the back of his calf in a gentle caress. He eased his leg away and gave her a small grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She angled her head, puzzled and then reached to the side, fingers sliding underneath his shirt to stroke his skin. He shivered and then reached down, and quietly removed her hand. She was taken aback and he jerked his head at the corner. “They’re on their way,” he said, and she saw the arms dealers returning and moved away from her mate.
She and John were loading the weapons into the pod while D’Argo finalized arrangements. The air between them was strained and she couldn’t stand it anymore. “What’s your problem,” she hissed.
“I don’t have a problem,” he shot back.
“Then why are you avoiding me?” she asked, struggling to keep the hurt out of her voice. This was idiotic, the conversation and the situation. She would not whine like a 14 cycle old cadet.
“I’m not avoiding you,” he growled back. “But what the hell were you doing feeling me up in the middle of something like that?”
She dropped the box of arms, hand fumbling for her pulse pistol, wordless with fury at his hypocrisy. “You.” She fought for words, not English, not Human just something to help her wrap her tongue around the loathing and the hurt coursing through her. “You skoulisha.”
His eyebrows drew together and she kicked the box in an effort not to hit him. “That doesn’t even translate,” he said.
“Frell you,” she snarled.
And his eyes got dark. He stepped towards her. “That’s the problem,” he said low and angry and mean. He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Frelling. The past week has been all about frelling.”
His fingers dug into her arms hard enough to leave bruises and he shoved her up against the side of the pod. “You’ve gotten some bug up your ass about us having sex, so what’s your problem?” He pushed closer to her as he enunciated the words, the weight of his body forcing her onto the pod.
“What is the fucking problem here, Aeryn?” he hissed again, his face very close to hers, breath hot on her skin. Her nipples tightened and blood throbbed in her cunt. She should shove him away, hurt him or answer back, cut into him like he was doing to her but as he looked at her, chest heaving, eyes dark with anger, she slumped in his grip, asking herself the same question. “What the frell was wrong with her? And why, after all this time, didn’t he want her?” She could see her emotional swing hit him as well.
His gaze softened. “Baby,” he whispered, low and cajoling and he bent his head to kiss her, lips brushing over hers.
“Oh, get a room,” D’Argo grumbled, kicking the same crate that she’d dropped. “And why aren’t you two finished loading these things.”
John stepped away from her and they silently finished the job.
***
It looked like one of those town meetings from the Westerns John so loved and it felt like an ambush. A full dinner; Kai playing happily in the next room while Uncle Rygel corrupted her soul; D’Argo and Chiana facing each other over the table. John was trapped between them on the other side of the table, forking his dinner down his throat at a rate that guaranteed he was going to choke sooner or later.
“Aeryn,” Chiana called. “Come have some dinner.”
She had no reason to refuse aside from the spike of dread in her belly and so she warily approached the table. When Aeryn had taken something from the brightly colored dishes, Chiana smiled widely.
“D’Argo said that you two have been having trouble with sex.”
“Oh Jesus Christ.” John dropped his fork down and put his forehead in his hand, shaking it. “Please, Chi, we really don’t need Dr. Ruth.”
“Well, it’s not like you two to not have sex.”
John just gave another low moan and D’Argo interceded.
“It is true John. We understand that you may need some more privacy. All you need to do is ask. We’d be happy to make arrangements for you.”
“D. Really. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Why not?” said Aeryn suddenly.
“Because our sex life really isn’t anyone’s business but ours, honey,” he said between gritted teeth.
She arched her eyebrow. “What sex life?” she bit out.
Chiana giggled nervously, D’Argo groaned and John slammed his hand down on the table. “Christ Aeryn, that’s the problem. You’ve got it in your head that this is some kind of job, some kind of frelling chore. It’s not a hell of a lot of fun.”
She narrowed her eyes, “Is that an excuse?” she said, more roughly than she meant to.
"Goddamnit Aeryn," he finally exploded. "This isn't the Peacekeepers. There's no regulations for frelling. If we don't stick to the every other day schedule, no one's gonna hand you a personalized vibrator and say go have some alone time. This is real life and we fuck when we want too." He slammed down his hand. "Right now, maybe I don't want to."
She was utterly still, staring at him, willing her temper back into place, trying to listen to him, trying not to give into the rage or the rejection.
"You can get those on Rilla Prime." They both looked at Chiana. "They'll make a life cast. Put your name on it if you want."
Aeryn opened her mouth, shut it abruptly and got up from the table. She heard the crash of crockery, and John yelling “Goddamned son of a bitch.” She plucked off her com and dropped it on the floor, grinding it under her heel.
***
Kai was snuggled tightly against her as they rocked in the wooden chair D’Argo had build, pointing out pictures of various earth animals in the book when John knocked on the door.
“I come bearing gifts,” he said through the bars of the former cell. “Gifts, apologies and an offer.” She thought about it for a microt.
“What kind of gifts?” she asked while Kai turned the pages, sticky fingers reverent against the paper.
John paused. “Um, Hynerian brandy and maraschino cherries.”
She harrumphed.
“Gimmee a break, I’m tryin’ here.” He said, but he didn’t sound angry.
She hefted Kai onto her hip, her daughters hands wrapping around her neck, curling into her hair and went over to the door. The gates slid back and her husband leaned against the doorjamb, looking a little contrite, a little serious and a lot beautiful.
“Hey,” he said softly.
“Hey.”
She waited.
“We need to talk.”
She nodded.
“I’m sorry I was an asshole.” Kai’s head cocked at that and he shook his head and grinned at his child, holding out his arms for her, trading Aeryn the bottles for his daughter.
“You,” he said, “are going to have a slumber party with Aunt Chiana because sometimes your Mom is right.”
“Sometimes,” Aeryn mouthed, arching an eyebrow.
He gave her a slow, simmering grin and then Kai bounced and squealed.
“Come on chicken boo,” he said, then turned back to Aeryn. “10 microts,” he said, and she nodded.
She’d opened both the brandy and the cherries by the time he returned, equally dubious of both. He took off his belt and his boots at the entrance to the room, tossed them in a corner, disappeared to the fresher, returning with cups and then shut the door, pulled the privacy curtain shut and locked them in. Aeryn sat on the floor, back against the bed. She poured herself some of the brandy and drank it slowly while he sat down facing her.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you and I want you and I don’t know what’s going on, but I have some pretty solid theories.”
She drank the rest of the brandy then set the cup down carefully on the floor next to her.
“I love you, too,” she said softly. “But there are days when I look at you and you don’t look back.” She sighed. “Do you trust me?” she looked back at him.
His eyes were glassy and he hesitated. Her stomach clenched, but she waited, watching him intently and then his features evened out, eyes clearing to that lovely crystalline blue and she was almost relieved.
“With my life, with my child, with my heart.” He whispered, “And even with my module, should you decide to take the Hyundai on days when the Jag is in the shop.”
“The mercenaries,” she said quietly, the words feeling thick and awkward out loud. “That was bad, and things happened, and Kai, and I missed you, and then it felt like you didn’t want to have sex. I thought you didn’t want me. I thought that we’d said things that had broken everything and that you were afraid to tell me.”
He reached forward, wrapping his hand around her booted ankle. “We were exhausted, and maybe I was still a little pissed, but I always want you, baby. It just got to be a little much, and sometimes we,” he blushed, “men, humans, we don’t do too well under pressure.”
She sighed, honest relief this time. “Well,” she said with a grin, “I guess that means I don’t have to take you to Rilla Prime and trade you in for a life cast then.”
He laughed and lazily reached over her for the cherries, which she snatched out of his hand. “My presents,” she said, opening the jar. They smelled like sugar, not at all resembling the scent of the fruit they’d eaten on Earth. She fished in the jar, pulled one out by the stem and looked at it and John gave another low laugh.
“I think I have an idea,” and he lunged for her, straddling her body while she held the jar over his head.
It didn’t take long to discover that yes, she could indeed tie the cherry stem into a knot with a few flicks of her tongue, nor did it take much longer to discover that the trick short circuited her mate's brain. He took the jar of cherries and fished one out himself, then took a swig of the brandy, straight from the bottle and leaned forward, kissing her sloppily, mouth stick with brandy. She kissed him back, licking the sweetness from his lips. He leered at her, and dropped the cherry down her shirt in order to fish it back out.
Her torso streaked red with the syrup, she pealed off her garments and tossed her shrit and bra into the corner. John stroked gentle fingers over her breasts, pressing against the nipples. He took one into his mouth, sucking gently, teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh and she arched her back at the pleasure. He came back to her mouth, delivering another gentle kiss and then drew out another cherry, drawing patterns over her body, his tongue sliding over the syrupy residue.
She giggled as he stroked her sides lightly and she tugged at his shirt, and they worked together in a flurry. Hands on leather, shifting and shoving and tugging to wriggle out of clothes that were suddenly unbearably cloying and tight, keeping them from the silk of each other’s flesh. Mouths moved together, tongues tangling as they rolled and kissed, as hands darted down to slide over genitals, over the curve of bone and tight, taut muscle.
She pinned him to the ground, hands over his head, kissing him thoroughly, sopping sex pressing against his cock, her whole body a conduit for heat and for want, vibrating with the electricity of a highly anticipated fuck. She sat up, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, his cock bobbing against her ass and scraped her fingernails over his chest.
“Is it still work?” she growled low in her throat, unable to wipe the grin off of her face. His fingers danced over her clit and she caught her breath as he turned his hand, wiggled in between their bodies, she rocked back, giving him better access, rising up so he could thrust inside her. “You need more of an answer?” he laughed, thrusting slowly, agonizingly slowly as her internal muscles clenched and her skin ignited and she came, tight and hot and throbbing with a whimper and a cry.
She scooted back as his fingers slid out of her, damp and sticky, reaching between her legs to find his cock, and then sinking onto him with a grunt. She rocked her pelvis forward, his cock tapping at her cervix and grunted again. He grabbed her hips, slamming up into her, fleshing slapping in an off balance rhythm, the slidy, sputtery sound of hot, damp flesh coming together not exactly beautiful, but endearing, and then it didn’t matter, nothing mattered, not the skin scraping off her knees from the metal floor.
Not John’s wiggling and scooting as his back stuck to the floor, friction and gravity and the laws of science working against them as they struggled for purchase and for completion.
And finally not John rolling her off him, onto her stomach, his greater mass holding them in place as she held onto the edge of the bed, frelling her from behind, his hips and balls slapping against her ass, both of them grateful that the bed was nailed down and until she came again, bearing down on John’s cock buried deep inside her, his hand wrapped in her hair, the other slapping against the golden frame of the bed as muscle control dissipated and he climaxd with a final thrust.
She was pracitically purring when all of her atoms rearranged themselves back into something resembling her body and she crawled onto the bed, where John flopped beside her, sweaty and covered in red syrup. She giggled and he looked at his chest, and then flopped back down on top of her, reaching for the jar of cherries.
“I’m not done with these,” he said with a leer, fishing out a handful and moving down her body. They’d never get the sheets clean, she thought as he fulfilled his promise, candied cherries ripe in her cunt, his nimble, clever tongue coaxing them out, coaxing another mind-numbing orgasm out of her. He held the last cherry by its stem between his teeth as he moved back up her body, sinking down on top of her and offering her the candy, which she took, sucking in the musky flavor of their sex and the sugary sweetness of the cherry as she bit down on it, then bit down more gently on his tongue as it snuck into her mouth. They kissed langourously, slow and deep, enjoying the soft stupor of orgasm and silliness and the dance of tongues and teeth.
“How long?” she asked, yawning, eyes closed, body tingling from release. “Arns,” John said drowsily, and nuzzled her neck, closing his eyes as she slid her hand caressingly up and down his back.
***
Aeryn stood in the doorway, watching her child and her mate concoct something more or less edible.
Kai sat on the table in the galley, short legs swinging, knocking against the bottom. “Wass it called?” she asked in English. She sounded far less suspicious than Aeryn would have been, but Kai's faith in John was infinite.
“A Shirley Temple,” he said, pouring something fizzy and sweet into a glass. “Kids on earth love it.”
Kai nodded sagely and Aeryn grinned at her. “And voila,” said John, “The finishing touch.”
He slid over a bottle of cherries and popped open the top. Aeryn felt the blush start on her cheeks and cleared her throat, eyes wide, appalled.
John caught sight of her, and winked. “Don’t worry, babe. We’ve got plenty to go around.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2004-01-14 07:43 pm (UTC)I'll be more coherent later on, I promise, but for now all I can do is squee!
8 ) 8 ) 8 ) 8 ) 8 )
*does happy dance and falls, exhausted, into bed*
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 10:16 am (UTC)So, so glad you liked it. I had so much fun writing it that I started to doubt it's value, but regardless I had a hell of a good time, so I'm glad that came through for you!!
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Date: 2004-01-14 07:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 10:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-14 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 10:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-14 08:18 pm (UTC)1. doing laundry
2. good clean fun (that's
3. maraschino cherries
Hee! *g*
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Date: 2004-01-14 08:49 pm (UTC)I can't believe how fast you cranked this baby out *g*
This line just cracked me up.
There was no point beating around the bush. Especially as it was her bush that needed beating.
heh.
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Date: 2004-01-15 10:08 am (UTC)I write really fast when there's nothing to plot:) And yeah, I'm not sure that line will make the final cut, but damn it makes me giggle:)
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Date: 2004-01-14 09:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 10:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 10:21 am (UTC)If there are two Johns on Talyn, then one has to have been on the pod with Rygel when GEM occurred. That establishes one's intimacy level as ascendant, which I could counter by having the other one with Aeryn in Relativity. That would balance out the emotional connections before Meltdown, where I can leave out the Stark storyline altogether and maybe only deal with drexim effects if Talyn is affected a little longer before they get away. But that's a bit more background than I wanted to deal with, and leads to contemplation of Dam-ba-da, where I also didn't mean to go.
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Date: 2004-01-15 11:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-14 10:08 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 09:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-14 10:58 pm (UTC)Great job with this, and it's very funny too.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 09:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-14 11:30 pm (UTC)Thank you for fixing the spelling, though. It was bugging me earlier, but I am trying to work on that going with the flow, accept that other people know too thing. As you can tell, it's not going so well... ;)
But: Especially as it was her bush that needed beating. AHEM! THEA! I laughed for several minutes at that....
but yes, wow. and also, I am supposed to be in bed, but I sense you may have corrupted my dreams tonight.
no subject
Date: 2004-01-15 09:55 am (UTC)And the title did work, it ended up being strangely appropriately.
Thanks so much, though. I'm so glad you liked it. (And Cranky wasn't so fond of that line. She didn't think it sounded like Aeryn, which is probably true, but I got attached to it:) We're going to have thoroughly corrupted you before you even get to watch the show:)
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Date: 2004-01-21 02:59 am (UTC)So glad I got to read this!
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