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intheheartTitle: Wanting
Rating: PG-13 for sexytiems.
Summary: It wasn't exactly love at first sight.
AU: IN SPAAAACE
Notes: Bits of backstory are shamelessly cribbed from Battlestar Galactica (but only bits. Teeny bits).
"It wasn't exactly love at first sight," he says, and it is and isn't a lie.
--
He first met her after a terrible battle, half the officers on his ship killed, and him, a barely-minted lieutenant, suddenly second-in-command to a blank-eyed senior officer. He'd thought of his son, hiding belowdecks, and somehow he got them out -- he couldn't remember how.
The Senator's ship came to their aid. He saw to the survivors, got Aaron settled, and went to thank her.
She was so neat and pretty and gracious beside him, smoke-stained and exhausted. He doesn't remember anything she said, only the tendrils of hair curling by her ears.
He wanted to see her hair down.
--
He first saw her hair down about a month later. He'd been promoted, after that battle, lieutenant second grade with a position of trust. They'd been playing escort to a fleet of government ships when one of them had a freon leak and had to evacuate for repairs.
He was directing passengers to their temporary quarters when he saw her, wearing a loose dressing gown, blue nightgown peeking through the top, carrying a sleepy toddler on her hip. He had no time and neither did she, but he nodded to her, got a smile back.
He wanted to touch her.
--
He first touched her at some banquet in somebody's honor several months into their acquaintance. He was assigned to escort her to the party, sit next to her and entertain her-- he found out later that she'd requested him, though at the time he thought it nothing more than luck.
She was always beautiful, but now he found she was witty too, intelligent and sharp, funny and kind-- and she was always there beside him, always in contact, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, his hand on the small of her back.
He wanted to kiss her.
--
He first kissed her-- or was first kissed by her, they could never agree later-- one lazy shipboard night between the planets.
They'd been friends now for a year or more and he'd offered to show her the stars, the vast sprawl of the universe in ever-shifting constellations. He took her to the observation deck, quiet and private. They stood in silence together, until he found his courage and kissed her, deep and warm.
He wanted to take her to bed, and when she put her arms around his neck, twined her body close, he knew she wanted it too.
--
He first made love to her there, on the observation deck.
She sighed into him, her whole body against his, curve to plane. Her hands were smooth on his body, tracing his scars and the lines of his muscles. He could hardly see her, her body limned by starlight, so he mapped her with his hands. Her skin seemed misted with stardust.
She wove her fingers through his, holding to his hand as she gasped and whimpered and came under him, her body arching into his.
He wanted to tell her then, and for months afterwards wondered why he hadn't.
--
He first told her when she came back.
She was wild-eyed, white-faced, clothes torn, body bruised-- she was alive.
He touched her like a blind man, the pads of his fingers on her face, the palms of his hands over her body. The arch of her eyebrows and collarbone, the swell of her cheeks and breasts, the softness of her lips and belly-- he couldn't get enough, couldn't stop touching.
Her eyelashes brushed his hand. Her breath puffed against his palm.
She was here, alive, in his arms.
"I love you," he said, and there was nothing left to want.
--
"It's just-- I think I've loved her forever," he says, and that is not a lie.
Rating: PG-13 for sexytiems.
Summary: It wasn't exactly love at first sight.
AU: IN SPAAAACE
Notes: Bits of backstory are shamelessly cribbed from Battlestar Galactica (but only bits. Teeny bits).
"It wasn't exactly love at first sight," he says, and it is and isn't a lie.
--
He first met her after a terrible battle, half the officers on his ship killed, and him, a barely-minted lieutenant, suddenly second-in-command to a blank-eyed senior officer. He'd thought of his son, hiding belowdecks, and somehow he got them out -- he couldn't remember how.
The Senator's ship came to their aid. He saw to the survivors, got Aaron settled, and went to thank her.
She was so neat and pretty and gracious beside him, smoke-stained and exhausted. He doesn't remember anything she said, only the tendrils of hair curling by her ears.
He wanted to see her hair down.
--
He first saw her hair down about a month later. He'd been promoted, after that battle, lieutenant second grade with a position of trust. They'd been playing escort to a fleet of government ships when one of them had a freon leak and had to evacuate for repairs.
He was directing passengers to their temporary quarters when he saw her, wearing a loose dressing gown, blue nightgown peeking through the top, carrying a sleepy toddler on her hip. He had no time and neither did she, but he nodded to her, got a smile back.
He wanted to touch her.
--
He first touched her at some banquet in somebody's honor several months into their acquaintance. He was assigned to escort her to the party, sit next to her and entertain her-- he found out later that she'd requested him, though at the time he thought it nothing more than luck.
She was always beautiful, but now he found she was witty too, intelligent and sharp, funny and kind-- and she was always there beside him, always in contact, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow, his hand on the small of her back.
He wanted to kiss her.
--
He first kissed her-- or was first kissed by her, they could never agree later-- one lazy shipboard night between the planets.
They'd been friends now for a year or more and he'd offered to show her the stars, the vast sprawl of the universe in ever-shifting constellations. He took her to the observation deck, quiet and private. They stood in silence together, until he found his courage and kissed her, deep and warm.
He wanted to take her to bed, and when she put her arms around his neck, twined her body close, he knew she wanted it too.
--
He first made love to her there, on the observation deck.
She sighed into him, her whole body against his, curve to plane. Her hands were smooth on his body, tracing his scars and the lines of his muscles. He could hardly see her, her body limned by starlight, so he mapped her with his hands. Her skin seemed misted with stardust.
She wove her fingers through his, holding to his hand as she gasped and whimpered and came under him, her body arching into his.
He wanted to tell her then, and for months afterwards wondered why he hadn't.
--
He first told her when she came back.
She was wild-eyed, white-faced, clothes torn, body bruised-- she was alive.
He touched her like a blind man, the pads of his fingers on her face, the palms of his hands over her body. The arch of her eyebrows and collarbone, the swell of her cheeks and breasts, the softness of her lips and belly-- he couldn't get enough, couldn't stop touching.
Her eyelashes brushed his hand. Her breath puffed against his palm.
She was here, alive, in his arms.
"I love you," he said, and there was nothing left to want.
--
"It's just-- I think I've loved her forever," he says, and that is not a lie.
