Passing the Time

BY : Bebe
Category: 1 through F > Andromeda
Dragon prints: 2560
Disclaimer: I do not own Andromeda, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Passing the Time, Part 10

Author’s Note: The last chapter! I'm so glad you guys stuck with this story, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. With any luck, I will have something else up relatively soon: I have another Beka/Tyr story in the works, as well as other projects. Until then, thank you so much for reading!

Beka looked at the already overstuffed duffle bag then around the room, now sparse with all of their personal items packed. Tyr had already finished with his things and was in the kitchen; she could hear him from where she stood in the bedroom. Sighing, she started the job of checking all the drawers for forgotten items. She made it to the last one before she found something. Tyr had either forgotten or deliberately left behind the handcuffs in the nightstand, and the links clinked together as she lifted them. Maybe he’d meant for her to have them? She closed her fingers around the chain as she considered, finally slamming shut the drawer with the pair still in hand. She would ask.

He was still in the kitchen when she came out of the bedroom, closing the door behind her and dropping the duffle and the handcuffs on the sofa until she’d checked the bathroom and the main room similarly. Those tasks done, she retrieved the bags and headed for the kitchen, pushing open the door and leaning against the frame to watch Tyr.  

He couldn’t have seen her, although she had no doubt that he knew she was there, courtesy of scent or sound or some other sense that Nietzscheans had better than humans. He had his back turned and was sorting through some of the abstruse equipment from one of the drawers, presumably to remove the few things he’d brought with them. She didn’t really care. Instead she watched the flex of his arms as he moved and the sway of the heavy braids against his back, letting her gaze follow the fall of the hair down and rest on his ass. His body always appealed to her senses, even back on the Andromeda, and having access to that body did nothing to dampen her appreciation of it. Although— the pleasure of that thought disappeared— she wouldn’t have access to that body after they left here. Going home, as sweet as the prospect might be, had a price. This one was more easily paid than most, since they had after all lived shipboard together for quite a while without sex, but it was still not something that she looked forward to giving up. She liked having Tyr in her bed. Other places as well, really, she wasn’t that picky. Just thinking of the time or two they’d been here in the kitchen, or when they’d used the handcuffs…

Tyr shut the drawer more loudly than was strictly necessary, making her jump. “Are you finished packing?”

“Mostly, yeah.” She moved over to the door to set down her duffle. “Just a couple more things.”

“Good.” He turned away from the counter, although he still didn’t face her, his reason probably his own bag, open on the table, since he immediately tucked some of the implements from the drawer into it. She was amused by the fact that she still couldn’t have identified what some of them were, even after watching him use them for their meals, but she knew that the box she glimpsed among the contents was dedicated to small but highly effective flash-bangs. Maybe they had been living together too long. As he rearranged some things and closed it, he asked, “What do you still have to pack?”

“Well, these at least I wanted to see whether you wanted them or not.” She held up the cuffs, dangling them from her finger by one of the bracelets. “I have my own back on the Maru, after all.”

He smirked. “I doubt I would have any instance to use them in the future. They’re ineffective as regular restraints and not many Nietzschean females would require them in… intimate situations.”

“Really? I can’t imagine not wanting their male at their mercy.” She grinned at him. “I’ll take them, then. Can’t hurt to have an extra pair.” She crouched down to tuck them into her bag. The rustling, clinking noises meant that Tyr was moving, and sure enough when she looked up he was standing nearby. He set down his bag next to hers. “Actually, I guess you couldn’t use a lot of what we do with a Nietzschean woman, could you?” she mused, still balancing on the balls of her feet. “Wouldn’t lead directly to babies, anyway. It seems like a waste.”

“Having done it anyway or that I have all this knowledge that won’t be put to use in the future?” He was definitely amused.

“Both?”

“You regret having spent all that time in my bed?”

“My bed just as much as yours, and definitely not.” She stood, closer to his body than she’d dare back on the Andromeda, yet another habit she’d have to break once they returned. “So not both, more that I spent all this time teaching you things that won’t be used again, and especially not on me.” She took a deep breath, enjoying his appealing smell. She’d never asked whether that was a genetically-engineered thing or just him, but she suspected the latter, given the heavy overtones of leather and gun oil.

“It is a shame, isn’t it? And you were so dedicated to my education.” He pursed his lips faintly, and all she could think of were the things he’d been so good at doing with those lips. He knew it, too, quirking the corners of his lips upward after a moment, probably as he smelled her changing scent. “Of course, some of them I may yet be able to use to coax a mate to remain with me longer and provide more chances for conception.”

She shook her head, laughing. “It really does always come back to babies with you people, doesn’t it?”

“Not always.” He edged forward until her breasts brushed against his chest. “If it always did, you wouldn’t have had the opportunity to increase my education, at least not without consequences both of us would find… undesirable.” With one smooth movement he pulled her arms around his neck and dipped his head to kiss her. She relaxed into it, twining her fingers in his hair and leaning more heavily against him. When he started to break the kiss she tightened her grip, opening her mouth under his and waiting for him to take what she was offering one more time.

He did. Tyr’s hands dropped to her waist and pulled her closer, until they were body to body, but she didn’t notice as much as she might otherwise, with his tongue sliding against hers and commanding her attention first and foremost. When it ended, when she finally eased her hold on his braids, she realized that the length of her torso was pressed against him and, further, that he was definitely interested in more than just a kiss. So was she. “You know,” she murmured, “we have time before we have to leave, and I am packed, and you are too, right?”

“Yes.” He waited for the rest, but not patiently, his hands sliding down past her waist and the action accompanied by a definite sniff.

“Because,” she started. His lips brushed over her ear, and she shivered, forgetting briefly what she was about to suggest.

He was definitely taking advantage of the placement of his hands. “Because? You have a way of filling the time?”

“I was going to suggest a quick refresher course on some things. Anything you want to get some last-minute practice on?” Beka started to unfasten the clasps of his vest, already sure that the answer would not be a negative.

She’d gotten them all undone, not that there were that many to start with, before he answered, and the thoughtfulness in his tone temporarily halted her hands. “Perhaps… we could cover just the basics.” He was smiling still when she looked up, but not very broadly, and she felt a tug of sympathy. To know that they couldn’t do this again was disappointing, to say the least, and to just have one last time together would not be enough, exactly, but it would be something.

She stood on her toes to kiss him again, slow and deep this time, then dropped back when it ended, holding onto the gaping edges of the vest. She licked her lips. “Yeah, I think just the basics would be good.”

That mild acknowledgement was enough, and within seconds he was back to the more teasing look. “I believe nudity is the most basic step.”

“We should start there, then.” She took a step back, pulling the hem of her shirt up and over her head. When she dropped it to the floor and looked, he was watching her as if he was committing every detail to memory. She raised an eyebrow, and he acknowledged the gesture with a faint incline of his head before shedding his vest.

Disposing of their clothes was quick. She beat him by the barest moment, having a slight advantage in the lack of tight leather in her clothing choices for the day, and she would have gloated if he hadn’t stepped forward into well within her comfort zone. She knew both their bodies were reacting to the proximity and didn’t mind. They exchanged one quick kiss, with their skins pressed close and tantalizing, and then she stepped away. She glanced around the kitchen, trying to decide what to do, and then she knew. Beka backed up carefully to the table, that sturdy, heavy slab of solid wood, drawing him with her by the braids twisted in her fingers. When she felt the edge just below the base of her spine she stopped, and this time he dipped his head without any urging. His hands rested on her shoulders at first, but as they kissed again his palms slid slowly and warmly down her sides to her hips. The kiss ended, the two of them gradually drawing apart but not letting go of each other. She licked her lips again, not sure what to say, and his eyes followed the motion. There was a beat before his hands tightened on her hips; she gripped the braids tighter even though it did nothing as he lifted her, sliding her rear just barely onto the surface of the table. He shifted forward to stand between her legs and kissed her again.

The previous kisses had been warm and careful, but this one was harder, hotter, more demanding from both sides. His tongue flicked between her lips and she caught it between her teeth for half a second before letting go. “Please?” she asked, feeling him pressing against her and wanting him now, never mind how much time they had.

She caught the smugness of his expression before he dipped his head, his lips pressing deliberately to hers and slowing the pace so slightly. It didn’t work. She still wanted him, and as the kiss drew to its conclusion he shifted his hips, just a little, and pulled a noise from her lips, close to a gasp. The same smile flickered across his face, but then he started to press forward. This time the sound was closer to a whimper as he so gradually filled her, appeasing one desire and creating another. Her fingers twisted tighter in his hair, nails scraping gently at his shoulders, in a mute appeal to keep him there inside her, deeper and deeper, until they were completely joined. The process took both seconds and years, and she let out a sigh when he rested, the two of them skin to skin. His breathing was heavy. Trying for some kind of steadiness herself, she dropped her forehead to his warm shoulder and took her own deep breath. Her eyes had closed when she moved, but having gotten a little control back she opened them now.

Beka hadn’t counted on this. The way they were, the light filtering between them, she could see everything: the ripple of his muscles, her own pale curves, the contrast of black and auburn curls, and when he slowly circled his hips she had to bite back another whimper at both the sight and the feel of him easing out and back into her. Another glide and she was trying not to beg. She wanted this, so badly, and to see it at the same time… The next movement was deeper than before, slower, and the press and ease against her clit made her whole body tense. He groaned in turn as she clenched around him; when her own muscles relaxed he repeated the motion.

There was no way she could be this close this soon, but the visceral impact of what she was seeing, the friction right where she wanted it, was apparently more than enough. She closed her eyes but it wasn’t enough, seeing an afterimage on the backs of her eyelids when he moved again and trembling at it. She didn’t want it yet, though. She wanted this to last, and he didn’t seem anywhere near his own limits. It took an effort to untangle her fingers, lift her head, and the next slide made it more difficult, interrupting her attempt and making her sink her nails into his shoulder for a second, putting a hitch in his breath. He hesitated, probably wondering what she was doing, and she took advantage of the pause to lean carefully back on her hands. As a method of slowing herself down it might not work, but she was rewarded by seeing his own gaze slide down her body to where he was buried inside her, and she knew that he reached that point when his hand tightened on her. She took hold of his other hand and pulled him forward until she could kiss him, his mouth warm above hers and yielding. When she relinquished him a smile crept across his face again, and he straightened back up and got a firmer grip on her pelvis before stroking out and in again, making her slap her hand against the wood surface to keep her balance when she shuddered at the new and different feel.

She could still see what he was doing; it was maybe not the best angle, but she still caught glimpses of slick flesh with each slow thrust, the new position doing nothing to slow the rise of heat and need in her body. Now, instead of pressure against her clit, every motion slipped past the sensitive spot just inside, stoking the fire further. She shuddered at a particularly gradual slide, teasing her nerves, and she wanted him to go faster and slow down even more at the same time. One of those demands— she wasn’t sure which— nearly escaped, but then she looked at him, really looked, and bit down on her lip to stop it. He seemed as strained as she was, muscles tightening through his body sporadically, and when she shivered again at another deep stroke he made a strangled sound and his fingers dug into her flesh for a second. This time he was the one watching them against, inside, each other, and the intent look only occasionally wavered.

Her toes curled with the intensity of the pulse that went through her then. She didn’t want to wait anymore, wanted to come like this with him all the way inside her and watching her. It took the barest second to shift her weight to one hand. He looked up when she brought the other down to where they met and hesitated at the brush of her fingertips against his shaft. “Beka?” His voice was rough.

“Don’t stop,” she told him, and when he still didn’t move she shifted, just a quick up-and-down jerk because that was all she could do easily with her position and his hold on her. He waited a second longer. “I need this.” Her own voice was ragged, her want close to the surface, and he must have heard it, starting that gradual circle again. Her hand was in the way, obscuring some of her view, but she could still see his body moving into hers and hear wet flesh sliding. Coupled with that friction inside, the press of her own fingers against her clit, and she wasn’t surprised at the shudder that she couldn’t control, centered around the throbbing ache between her legs.

In a few moments more, her whole body was tightening in anticipation, and with one deep thrust the anticipation was over. She was gone, the sensations sweeping over her body in waves and making her convulse with each stroke as he kept moving; she heard him groan, distantly, and arched up as that set off another wave. She could have cried when his movement eased and her own orgasm ebbed. When it did she opened her eyes, not sure when she closed them, and looked over at Tyr.

He was holding her tightly, still buried inside her, but what caught her attention was the intent way he was watching her. Again, it was almost like he was trying to memorize her while he could. She wasn’t sure what she could say, even if her breathing hadn’t still been coming unevenly, and she started to lift her hand, probably to pull him in for another steadying kiss or to reassure him that she was fine and just needed a moment, although she wasn’t entirely sure herself. It was a surprise to her when he let go of her hip with one hand and caught her fingers. She waited to see what he would do and shivered when he brushed his tongue against the tips, his eyelids flicking closed and open again as he tasted her. He pressed a soft kiss against them before dropping his hand back down, this time to her waist.

She anticipated the pull upright, and she pushed up from the table to slide her arms around his neck again. This time she was the one to kiss him, trapping him in a long press of lips. He was the one that pressed inside, though, taking it deeper, and when she closed her teeth gently he groaned and retreated. He gave her a short, hard kiss before starting to move again.

She was sensitive now with each motion sending shivers through her at the caress of overexcited nerves, and she couldn’t stop tightening her thighs against him, holding him deep for seconds at a time. There was no way it helped with his own need, something obvious in the uncharacteristic murmur of “Let me,” by her ear. She didn’t relax for a moment longer despite the desperation in his voice, unable to make herself do so, and he gripped her harder; his hands hurt and she knew she would bruise, but it felt good at the same time, something that would be a lingering memory long after they were home. Once she released him he thrust into her; his strokes were hard but the pace was deliberate, the movements unrushed but not slow either. She clung to him, unable to do anything else, and for just a moment she wanted it to never end, pressing her nails into the skin of his back like it would keep him there forever.

It wouldn’t. Too soon he was convulsing, his breath gusting across her neck as he pushed into her one last time, and then he was mouthing words she couldn’t quite understand against her shoulder. She didn’t try to listen, suspecting that it was everything that she’d already thought slipping out as he shook with aftershocks under her hands.

The tremors eased, gradually, and finally he lifted his head, looking at her again. His breath was still unsteady and there was a glimmering of perspiration on his forehead, and she knew she must have seemed the same. He also looked… resigned, really. She didn’t like it, and pulled him forward for another kiss, this one not as desperate but instead slow and lingering. It still ended, and when it did he reached to untwine her arms from around his neck, kissing the knuckles just before letting go and easing them apart.

She supported herself with her hands on the table again for a moment, watching him step away and pick up their respective clothing. He offered her the underwear she’d shed, but she didn’t take it at first, instead asking half-seriously, “Are you sure we can’t stay longer? Let the universe take care of itself for another week or two?”

That produced a smile, reluctant but there. “I’m quite sure. We need to go. We need to go now, truthfully, unless the shuttle is miraculously delayed.”

“I knew you’d say that.” She sighed but took the clothes. By the time she’d slid off the table and untangled the straps, Tyr already had his pants on. She went back to watching him, already mourning the loss of that particular vista when he picked up the vest. “I’m just not sure I want to give this up, you know? I didn’t think I could even go this long without killing you, let alone getting orgasms out of the deal.”

This time the smile was not reluctant. “I assure you, I understand the sentiment. Beka,” and he was standing in front of her, making her feel naked in just the underwear, “you would not be my choice as my mate and the mother of my children—”

“Good, because I wasn’t signing up for it.”

“But,” he continued as if she hadn’t interrupted, “I appreciate who you are despite that, and… And I doubt I would trade the time with you for much else.” He held her eyes for a moment longer, letting warmth shine through.

“I— Thank you.” There was nothing else she could say, really. Not love, no, but affection and friendship, and appreciation of that fact. She gave him a quick, impulsive kiss, then gently pushed him away so she could finish dressing. It took a short time, far too short, and soon they were standing at the door with kitbags in hand. She sighed when she looked back at the kitchen.

“Something you forgot?” He was already halfway out the door, but stopped when he heard her.

“No. I’m just… going to miss this. Not the nature or anything, but having time to just enjoy myself without worrying about getting shot at every three days. I’m going to miss enjoying myself, period.” She eyed him lasciviously, surprising a laugh from him. “But it was good while it lasted, and the universe needs us back.” She bounced up on her toes to kiss him the last time and he held her there, turning what was intended as a brief kiss long. When he finally let her go, she beamed at him. “One for the road,” she told him, then turned and stepped out the door.

The End



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