&fic;

 

The Right Thing to Say

by sugargroupie

NC-17, 2838 words

Summary: [on both occasions] words were inadequate.

Disclaimer: Not mine; O'Bannon, Henson, Kemper, et. al.

Notes: This is such a PWP, set between We're So Screwed and Bad Timing. Thank you to Kernezelda for her excellent beta skills. Mistakes are mine.

Dedication: This is an incredibly late birthday gift for StarsGoBlue and Shannon.

.   .   .   .   .   .   .   .   .

[one]

It began like this

He left the galley first and she followed, laughter from the others trailing behind them as Chiana drunkenly wished them a happy frelling.

They had nothing to hide now so it didn't matter.

Her mouth still tingled from the alcohol Earth issue; and the raslak of excellent quality. They'd decided to mix the two as an experiment. After her first cup she'd conceded it was one of John's better ideas.

The after-effect left her feeling warm and languid, and open to Chiana's suggestion.

Aeryn reached out, clutched the back of his shirt with her fingers and his steps faltered as he leaned into her side. She thought John meant to kiss her but he tilted his chin up, brushed his lips against her ear. "I'm thinking we should've brought some of that drink with us."

"We can always go back." She pitched her voice low deliberately to match his nearness. "Take a bottle before they drink it all."

John wrapped his arm around her neck and warm breath brushed her cheek as he turned his head. He took a step forward, moving them in the opposite direction of the galley.

She eyed him curiously. "John?"

He tapped the comms unit on his chest. "Hey, D'Argo?"

The corridor was quiet as they waited for a response. They were leaning heavily against one another now as they walked slowly. His comms chirped back just as Aeryn huffed impatiently. "What. Is. It," D'Argo answered.

John snickered in her ear. "Hide a bottle of whiskey from the lushes for me."

There was some type of muffled interference on D'Argo's side before he spoke clearly, "Why don't you just come up here and get it yourself."

"D," John drawled, "Don't bogart the liquor."

"I'm not a frelling bogart you ?

Aeryn interrupted D'Argo before he could begin his tirade. "Just set it aside D'Argo and I'll be back for it later."

D'Argo sighed, as if it were some great effort to withhold one bottle of beverage. "Fine. I'll be sure to have a DRD stand guard over your precious intoxicant," he responded with no small amount of sarcasm.

She chose not to dignify his derisive attitude with a response. However, she did roll her eyes.

John smiled at her reaction and pressed his lips at the corner of her eye; a move she was certain was not done on purpose. She responded by kissing the first patch of his skin she could reach without strain, caught the edge of his shirt instead and didn't care.

"Thanks so much," John replied smartly and she hit the comms unit, effectively shutting them off from further conversation.

Aeryn disentangled herself from his arm and grabbed his hands, pulling him towards her as she walked backward. "I want to have sex now," she said matter-of-factly.

His eyes widened at her remark; in disbelief, she thought for a microt, before it was replaced with a grin. He nodded, squeezed her hands eagerly and fell quickly into step. "Yes, let's do that."

*

She couldn't determine why they went to her quarters when his were closer. They stumbled through the doorway as they kissed; fingers clutching at hair and clothing. Aeryn barely registered the clang as the grate closed, privacy curtain slipping into place by a motion of John's hand.

She settled her hands on his hips, unsnapped his leathers and tugged at the waistband as she turned him around. With John's help they got his pants down to his knees. She gave him a push and followed his downward momentum as he fell back onto the bed.

Her hands migrated back to his hips and she found herself fixated with the sharp angles of muscle and bone. She scrambled down his body and pressed her lips to the curve where hip met pelvis, licked the area with her tongue. Her arched up into her caress and hummed her name, dug his fingers into the queue of her hair until it fell loose down her back.

Aeryn slid the waistband of his briefs lower, kissing more of the exposed skin. He smelled of musk and whiskey; the scent of his sex drifted to her nose and she felt an answering throb between her legs. She knew from experience that his smell would linger in her sheets, on her skin and in her hair long after they were called away from their sanctuary to perform one task or another.

She stood abruptly, kicked away her boots and shucked her pants. John had removed his boots, pants and briefs when she rejoined him. She yanked on the hem of his shirt and he shrugged his shoulders as she pulled the thin fabric over his head. He stood and they repeated the gesture for her shirt, leaving her in a pair of black briefs and John in nothing at all.

She felt his fingers skim across her bare shoulders and down her arms to rest loosely on her waist. He drew circles on her lower back and leaned forward to slide his cheek against hers, the flutter of his lashes tickling her skin. She tilted her face up and captured his mouth in a kiss that pushed him back a step and forced him to enclose her tighter in his arms for balance.

He broke the kiss and murmured, "You're still overdressed," against her mouth, the words rumbling in his chest as she leaned into him.

Aeryn didn't bother to respond but guided his hands to her hips in approval. He tucked his thumbs beneath the waistband of her briefs and pulled down, kneeling as he slid them down her legs. His hand was immediately there, parting the curls with his fingers to trace the lips underneath. John set his thumb to her clit and rubbed slowly back and forth as he stared up at her face. What she saw there gave her pause. The other John and she was careful not to speak of her time with him to this John lest he think it was a comparison and it was he she found lacking had never needed much reassurance in regards to her feelings for him. This John sometimes stared at her as if she were an equation he was trying to solve. She wondered what he saw in her expression, and what exactly was it he needed from her that her presence hadn't provided.

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, Aeryn ran her fingers to the back of his neck to tangle in his hair. He replaced his fingers with his mouth, all but buried his entire head between her thighs. She nudged his head gently and he gave her a long lick with his tongue, before teasing her with short flicks as if to test her endurance.

She rocked her hips into the languid rhythm he set, rising to the tips of her toes when he slid his long finger inside her again.

As she came she bent over, pressed her mouth to his neck and bit down hard enough to bruise, to leave a mark as pervasive as the one he left on her. She tasted his mouth then, swallowed down their combined musk and sex so that words were inadequate.

They held an entire conversation that night by making love.

* * *

[two]

And this is how it works

She tries to hold tightly to her own voice; tries to suppress the shout of pleasure working past her lips. Between the two of them, Aeryn is not usually the loud one. She is the one who teases him afterwards until an embarrassed flush spreads across his skin and she has to chase the redness with her lips. Now, she makes a sound in her throat and her voice simply hangs there, waiting to fall. Aeryn finally lets her head drop back and John is there, filling in the places she leaves exposed, pressing firm kisses to her neck. Her voice breaks as she opens her mouth, releases a keening moan that trickles out on a downbeat with each deep penetration of his cock inside her.

John leans back, slides his hands under her ass to lift her until she's seated on his hips; she hooks her legs over his shoulders. Aeryn pushes herself up from the bed, sets one hand behind her on a pillow and wraps an arm around his neck. She's limber enough to make the adjustment gracefully and pulls herself closer to lick his lips. He touches his tongue to hers; meets her wicked grin with a deep kiss and begins to frell her with more solid thrusts.

She pushes into each stroke as much as she's able; wants that glazed look to wash over him as she bears down on his cock. They both cry out in pleasure and it spills into welcomed laughter, even if she's not sure exactly what's so humorous about the situation. Her breasts bounce as his thrusts become less graceful in technique, hips rolling sharply.

His mouth is hot and slick as their mouths meet again, and she finds it easier to communicate with her fingers trailing down his back, digging in the muscle of his ass. With words she always manages to fall short, but this using her tongue at the base of his neck, biting his bottom lip to just short of painful, expresses what she means to say. Harder. I love you.

John, on the other hand, is far more verbal but less eloquent. He murmurs, "Fuck yeah," and chokes out her name as if it's something heavy on his tongue.

His bends his head and takes her nipple into his mouth, curls his soft tongue around her flesh as he suckles. She feels the sharp nick of his teeth and the deep pull of her sex in response as she shakes off the last of her release.

Aeryn tilts his head up from her breasts and kisses him hard as soon as she catches her breath. She releases his mouth and frames his face with her hands, stares into his eyes as he slides his cock inside her completely before increasing his pace again. He tries to look away as he comes close, but she tightens her grip and shakes her head. "Don't," she whispers, and caresses her thumbs across his cheekbones. "Let me see you."

Even with the strain to keep his eyes open visible, she thinks his orgasm is beautiful to watch.

*

"Do you still sleep soundly?"

He lies face up across the bed with arms stretched wide from one end to the other. His eyes remain closed and he is still for the moment, relaxed and yielding against her sheets.

The lights in her quarters are low but she has no problem making out the lines of John's body. They've put to good use the short time they've had together; are still mindful of the rough patches that could set them flying apart again without notice.

Aeryn lays the sole of her foot against his bare thigh and considers the question. Sound sleep has come to mean something completely different for her now. It means not falling over the edge with Xhalax, and silently thanking her mother for making the right choice. It means not feeling the burn of Henta's flesh as the carrier collapsed around her. It means examining the weight of her regrets, and knowing she'd do the same thing over again.

Rest doesn't always come easy, but it does come.

She keeps her answer simple. "Most of the time."

He shifts on the bed and she feels his fingers brush across her leg before coming to rest loosely around her ankle. John clears his throat and says, "You know... I've had dreams," and he hesitates on the last word, as she expects "for so long now, I don't know what it's like to not have them."

She has been witness to these dreams that leave him drenched in sweat, voice raw from internal screaming. She has been there in the aftermath, anchoring him with touch; sometimes allowing him to curl his body around hers. On Talyn there were other ways to distract him from his night terrors.

"What was I saying?"

It sounds like an incomplete question so she waits for clarification, settles more comfortably against the head of the bed. John presses the heels of his hands against his eyes, mouths silently words she cannot discern, as if he's willing clarity to return to his mind.

"Earlier when I was dreaming, what did you hear?"

She considers him silently, feels the weight of his gaze as he waits on an answer. Most of what he'd uttered was incomprehensible, and she doubts much of it was English at all. But there are a few phrases she remembers; names she thinks will do more harm than good if mentioned. She could distract him right now guide his attention to more pleasurable activities simply by sliding her leg against his. She could do this to him and feel no regret, but she'd only be prolonging the inevitable. They would find release only to wake up to the same questions, perhaps with less inclination to stay close the way they are now.

Still.

Aeryn takes a deep breath, stills the slow-building arousal and meets his gaze. "What you remember and what I heard may not coincide, John. I can barely understand you when you're awake; do you really expect to me to understand your dreams?"

His eyes narrow before a smile slowly appears and he tugs her leg playfully, scrapes his nails gently on the skin of her inner thigh. "If not you, who else is there?"

"No one," she replies, and it sounds more possessive than she anticipates. She has never been that person, has never wanted to claim someone, even when she knew with all certainty that John was hers.

Another difference, another layer peeled back. John is still hers. His reaction to her words proves it. The head of his cock lies against his belly, hardening under her gaze. Pale skin stretching across taut muscles with each breath and she sits up automatically, ready to close the distance between them.

"Come here." His low command pulls her away from her thoughts, which is just as well. She doesn't want to spend what's left of their evening thinking.

John reaches out and she twines their fingers together, letting him pull her forward. Aeryn rises to her knees and crawls across the bed to his lap. He attempts to meet her halfway but she pushes at his shoulder and he falls back willingly against the sheets.

She hovers over him, watchful of his expression as she allows her lower body to connect with his. She leans forward until she can feel the warmth near his mouth and rocks her hips, slides back against the solidness of his sex. John's breathing hitches, blows softly across her lips. His lashes flutter and she murmurs lowly, "Look at me."

Thinks, don't you ever turn away again.

He meets her gaze steady as she peers down at him. He brings his hand to cup the side of her face, lays his thumb at the corner of her mouth. She flicks her tongue out and takes the pad of his finger between her lips, and all the while John studies her, a soft smile on his face. She wonders at that look, what thoughts are going through his mind when he slips his finger from her mouth and replaces it with his lips. They exchange nibbling kisses that grow to include full sweeps of their tongues, creating a smacking sound that fills the room.

John licks his lips when they break the kiss and rests his hands on her thighs as they bracket his hips. Aeryn reaches between them and takes his cock in hand, strokes him until he tilts his head back and opens his mouth with a soft sigh. He gives the muscles in her thighs an answering squeeze before moving to cup her hips as she guides him to her center. They both watch intently as she lifts her hips and slides down on his sex. She teases him a little, shifting her hips and massaging his cock with quick strokes as she settles more comfortably on his lap.

He sits up and tangles his fingers gently in her hair, trails kisses down her neck to her chest. She holds him inside her, his solidness as much a comfort as arousing.

"You might wear me out tonight," John says softly.

Aeryn matches his tone as she wraps her arms around his neck. "That would be a good thing, right?"

"Mhmm. And hopefully no dreams."

"Hopefully," she agrees.

"Baby," He pauses to groan as she rolls her hips, sinking him further still. "Are you gonna protect me from my nightmares?"

"Shh." She licks the outer edge of his ear to quiet his chatter, catches his moan in her mouth and replies, "I'm not going anywhere."

*

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