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the expanse: alex kamal

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» WHO? Alex Kamal and You~
» WHEN? After Mike's Meeting up until the August mod plot
» WHERE? All over
» WHAT? Alex just got canon updated and came back to find a lot of shit
» WARNINGS? existential crisis

one. finding his vac suit. open.

It was just routine, by now, for him to go down to the airlock and check over the vac suits - make sure none of them were leaking and that they were all ready to go in case of an emergency. So he was mostly running on autopilot, as he headed down there, but as he walked past the airlock door he caught sight of something through the view port. He stopped dead, before quickly hitting the access panel, the door sliding open.

Inside waited a suit - specifically, a Martian vac suit. He felt like he was seeing things, as he walked up to it. It wasn't just any vac suit, though. It had all the scuffs and scratches and marks as his suit, from the Roci. He touched it carefully, then turned to look at whoever had stopped to see his surprise, and said, "I ain't sure I should be askin' any questions, but damn. This is mine. Have they had this the whole time?

two. finding the rest of his gear. semi-closed to roci crew / close cr.

He didn't want to leave the vac suit in the airlock - wanted to get Amos to take a fine toothed comb over the thing - so he carried it back to the shared quarters. He set it up in a corner, fussing a little bit, when he spotted something in the bathroom.

"What the --"

He found the little tray of cucumber sandwiches, and pulled them back out into the main room. "What the hell am I even lookin' at?"

A little while later, with a surprised sound, he found his clothes folded up, and changed into his Tachi jumpsuit and shirt, immediately feeling more comfortable once both of them were on. There was another shirt, too, which seemed more like Bobbie's size than his, and an extra communicator in his pocket. Whenever either of them wandered into the room, he'd hold out the item and say, "Think this one is better off with you."

Later, he'd find the bottle of gin in his toilet, and almost laugh as he pulled it out. He knew exactly where that was going. He pulled out his communicator and pinged Miller with the message: Got somethin' for you, gumshoe.

Wildcard

[ OOC: Ask me for a prompt, or feel free to see Alex wandering around in his new digs, or in his suit about to take a test trip out the airlock. He disappeared for 48 hours before this, so feel free to ask where the hell he's been. ]

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That shift in his smile, subtle as it is, makes her heart skip a beat. She knows how much of a romantic he is, but this is all still new enough that it still catches her off guard.

Bobbie finally pulls back enough to let her jumpsuit fall to the floor, then tugs her bra off and tosses it aside. She lets her lips brush against his softly as she answers. "Yeah, I know how you feel."

Oh.

Despite the fact that it had already felt pretty real, there was a shift as she let her bra fall, and there were a few seconds where Alex was treated to a full view before she pressed back agains him for a kiss. He felt his blood quickening, felt the already tight shorts around his waist get tighter. He let his hands rest on her hips, though they moved up a little, tracing along the bottom curve of her ribcage and over the taut muscles of her stomach.

He smiled against her lips, his bear scratching at her chin as he did so.

"Out of observation or experience?" He asked, a low teasing rumble as he hooked his thumbs into her underwear and slowly pulled down.

She shivers, hips rocking forward again even as she tries to pull his shorts down over his hips. It's not the most graceful attempt, but she manages it. "Experience," she replies breathlessly. If he doesn't think she's just as smitten as he is, she doubts he's paying attention.

It wasn't that he hadn't been paying attention, exactly. More that he had been extra cautious not to assume her feelings. Especially with six months of memories overlaid on his ones here, mostly not conflicting but certainly confusing. Bobbie had said she needed time to think about it, and so she'd gotten it, unequivocally. Even after she'd kissed him again, he'd been careful not to assume more than a field test.

To be happy with it.

But even his cautious heart wasn't quite able to mistake the tone behind that word, or twist it's meaning. He was suddenly flush with an intense, deep emotion, one that he couldn't voice despite the fact that for the first time he thought that Bobbie might share it, too. But he couldn't shatter the illusion for himself. Not yet. Not for a few minutes, anyway.

He was okay with letting himself believe she loved him, for a few minutes more.

Grace isn't required, as her body moving against his pulls a groan from his lips into her mouth, and his hands slide under fabric to grip her backside and pull her in more closely against him, making it even more difficult to get at his clothes, but she still managed anyway. His arousal is quite obvious, even though it was wedged between them as he held her against him, finally sliding the last remains of fabric down her hips.

Love isn't quite where she is just yet—she's more realistic than Alex is. That doesn't change the fact that he's her best friend, and that she's entirely certain she could get there someday. Beyond all that, all of this has felt right, and now that she's not concerned about him having misplaced feelings, she's entirely willing to just enjoy it. He makes her happy, and that's all she needs right now.

He groans and she kisses him hungrily, savoring the press of him against her, trying to memorize the sensation. She's too distracted to be of much help when he slides her shorts down, but she does manage to kick them off as her hands grip his hips, pulling him closer.

Self delusion has never been something he found difficult, especially not when all his blood was running south and his cock was doing 90% of his thinking for him. He kissed her again, longing and deep as he slowly ground his body against her. After a few seconds, though, he pulled back, slipping a hand into hers and then gently tugging it to get her to follow him to the bed.

His cock was incredibly hard, jutting out at a nearly obscene angle - but he forced it to tuck down a little as he sat on the edge of her bed and then tried to pull her down to his lap to join him.

The movement coaxes a soft moan from her, and by the time he pulls back, she's out of breath. She follows him readily, straddling him when he tugs her down, and when she settles, she rocks her hips against him, slow and unintentionally teasing.

'Unintentional', sure, he would believe that for a whole second as he groans, pulling he into his lap. It's a sweet sort of torturous ecstasy and he rocked his hips in time with her.

"Bobbie..." He murmured, almost a breath, and no other words followed. As if he had to say her name, outloud, for it to be real. He ducked his head, pressing lips to her collarbone, his hands sliding up her muscled frame until the found far softer flesh, slowing and teasing as they finally found her breasts. He groaned again, open mouthed against her throat as he slowly began to let his fingers knead into her supple breasts, the feeling making his aching cock twitch and arc under her, straining to rub against her as he rocked.

( He was determined to be patient. )

Bobbie has never had much patience, but she's absolutely planning to take her time with this, delighting in that slowly building friction. That lasts about until he says her name, making something inside her ache, and then his mouth is on her throat and his hands are on her skin and she can't remember why she thought going slow was a good plan at all. She shudders, one hand slipping into his hair as the other grips his shoulder, nails digging into his skin. She grinds down on him more firmly, gasping as she shifts.

"Are you going to keep teasing me forever?"

Pot calling the kettle black, maybe.

The bite of pain in his shoulder did nothing to diminish the building urgency - if anything, it spurred it. Bobbie had - through no fault of her own - been present for a lot of the times that he'd been Terribly Wounded and Had The Shit Kicked Out Of Him, so she and pain tended to line up even if she wasn't the one who caused it.

This, though, was different. This was the sort of pain that he instantly craved more of, that made him groan against her throat and made his hands grip tightly.

"Think we're a ways past teasin', Gunny," he murmured, his voice rough, grating against the back of his throat every time she ground against him. Murder? This was murder. Pure, beautiful, definitely going to see him dead, murder.

He let one of his hands slide to the small of her back, pressing her spine towards him to force her to arch it - just a little - so that he could lean in, pressing scratchy kisses to her chest as he trailed them downwards.

Bobbie laughs unsteadily at that, though it cuts off with another trembling gasp as his lips work their way downward. There's a brief second where she considers just pushing him back against the bed and riding him, and the idea is excruciatingly tempting, but he wants to go slow, so she'll give him slow, even if it kills her.

She closes her eyes, taking a moment to lose herself in the rough sensation of his lips against her skin, body going tense with anticipation. When she pulls back, it's only barely, just enough to slide her hand slowly down his chest and stomach, until she can wrap her fingers around his shaft.

He lets out a low, ragged curse, pressing his face against her chest as he tries to keep himself from bucking right up against her.

"Bobbie," he says again, and it's far closer to a plea than it was a minute ago, his brain shorting as she touched him. Christ, it had been a while. This was going to kill him.

He gains his faculties back enough to get himself to move, beard scraping over her skin before his lips found the peak of one breast, before he mouthed at it, tongue lapping before teeth drew her nipple into his mouth.

Before his hand snaked down between them as she gripped him, his hand sliding between her legs.

She takes in a shuddering gasp, back arching when his mouth closes over her breast. Every time he says her name like that, every time he touches her, she loses a bit more of her self-control, and when his hand slides between her legs, she doesn't bother trying to be polite. She just rocks herself against his fingers, letting out a quiet moan at the sensation. For a second, she can't focus on anything else, and then she remembers herself enough to stroke him with her hand, the rhythm slow and deliberate, at least for now.

If he'd had a single doubt left in his mind, it disappeared completely as he let his fingers coax her open, as the evidence of her own arousal made them slick. The logical, rational side of his brain had left the building, and all that was left was a rising urgency and need, spurred on by the tight, wet heat that clenched around his finger as he slowly pressed it into her.

His cock throbbed in sympathy, twitching in her grasp, though her weight on his thighs kept him from thrusting into her grip. Christ, he needed her.

He slips a finger inside her, and she squeezes her eyes shut, suddenly unable to think of much at all except her need growing into a deep ache. His cock twitches against her fingers and whatever patience she thought she was exercising disappears completely. He might not consider this teasing, but she can't stand waiting anymore. She lets go of him, both hands going to his shoulders as she gives him a gently push, her voice ragged and breathless.

"Lie back."

He rolls his shoulders back as she presses her hands against them, his lips leaving her breast and turning into a confused frown as she meets his eyes. She doesn't leave him in confusion for long, though, and the breathless command sends his blood running hot.

He just nods, wordlessly, his expression more of awe, than anything else, and he lays back into her bunk, the angle making it difficult - but not impossible - to slowly, achingly, keep working his finger inside her. His thumb is curled up, the knuckle pressing just a little pressure to her hooded clit with every slow stroke of his fingers.

God, he's going to kill her, but this would be an incredible way to die. She wasn't expecting him to keep going when she pushed him back, but he does, despite the awkward angle. Bobbie stays frozen there for a second, her grip on his shoulders tightening, breathing trembling, and it takes a tremendous amount of willpower to reach for his hand and gently tug it away.

"Stop for a second."

She presses a soft kiss to his fingers, then shifts back and reaches for his cock again. This time she lines herself up and then pauses, asking silent permission.

The second she asks, he immediately stops, letting her pull his hand away. He rests his hands on her thighs instead, eyes falling to watch her line him up against her, and it takes all the restraint he has from just pushing up into her as soon as he's in position. Instead, he raised his eyes to meet hers, lips parted and face flushed, embarrassed and awed and full of need.

His eyes say everything his lips could. Please.

Whatever self-control she has left disappears completely when he looks at her like that, and she eases down immediately, gasping as he finally, finally slips inside her. She takes his hands, shifting them up to grasp her hips, and then starts to move in a slow, steady rhythm, eyes still locked on his. At this point, she's honestly not sure if she'll last very long, but something tells her Alex won't care.

His lips part with a frozen, held breath as she lowers herself down onto him. His fingers curl sharply into her thighs, gripping what flesh she could find as his eyelids fluttered.

It has been a long damn time, but Christ she felt good. Far, far too good than could possibly be good for him.

He didn't dare try thrusting up into her, afraid that the extra movement would send him off the edge instantly. A vague thought, halfway formed, that he should probably have made sure she wasn't current off birth control, but as a marine, he couldn't see why she'd have removed the implant for it.

Just the last time he had done this had been for a very specific purpose, with a very specific goal. That wasn't the case, here.

Here, it was just for them. Nothing else.

And God, but if she wasn't the most gorgeous thing he'd ever seen.

He groaned, unable to stop himself from slowly beginning to thrust upwards in time with her body lowering against him, that little bit of leverage allowing to hit a little deeper...

Bobbie, on the other hand, isn't think of anything else but Alex—the way his eyelids flutter, that quiet groan, and then, finally, the way he sinks into her, the movement making her gasp sharply. It's almost overwhelming, the sensation overlaid with a flood of affection. The logical part of her says it's a terrible time to be thinking, but the rest of her insists that this was practically inevitable. Of course she has such strong feelings for him. How could she not?

She leans forward, hips matching his rhythm as she presses a soft kiss to the flutter of his pulse, his beard scratching softly against her lips.

He lets out a shakey breath but doesn't move more than he already had, his cock throbbing as it was buried inside her. He was so god damn close to the edge already that he was determined to be careful - last thing he wanted was to finish this before it had really begun.

Even if he really didn't think his body was going to hold out for it.

She shifted her weight and it pinned him harder into the bunk, though it meant he could prop his knees up a little.

He turned his head towards hers, almost blindly trying to catch her lips in a kiss even though they were lower at his throat. He ran his hands up her thighs, but didn't start moving again, not yet. He groaned, frustrated, and then in a very raspy, husky voice asked: "... Kiss me?"

Something about the request makes her heart flutter. Maybe it's the tone of his voice, or the fact that it's just surprisingly sweet. She shifts up again, one hand cupping his face, and she gets caught there for a second, eyes locked on his.

"Anything you want," she says, voice soft and affectionate, before she finally leans down to kiss him.

Her expression was so soft that it sent a lance through his heart, and he had to restrain himself from immediately confessing every last ounce of feeling he had for her. It may have been obvious on his face, however, and when she finally leaned down to kiss him he let out the softest of moans - relief and need all twisted up together.

He met her lips with a reverential hunger, warm and careful but without holding back. He kissed her with a confidence that he'd never quite managed before, his hands warm and heavy on her thighs as he slowly deepened the kiss. He didn't press up into her, he didn't move, just took the kiss as if he would drown without it.

As if his heart would burst, now that he had it.

Before Bobbie could voice a complaint, however, he did used the small amount of leverage to roll his hips and slowly thrust back up into her. He panted against her lips.

Bobbie just stays where she is, pressed against him. Some of that urgency has waned now, and all she wants is to memorize every inch of him, to lose herself in him for as long as she can manage. This kiss is different in some way she can't quite name, but it makes her heart pound and her head swim, and for the moment, nothing else matters.

She's so caught up in it that she doesn't even think to complain, and when he rolls his hips up, it catches her off guard and sends a shiver up her spine. She gasps, her free hand gripping his shoulder as she starts to move with him.

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cw: sexy times though I should have marked this a while ago

BETTER LATE THAN NEVER

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