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A Century of Firsts

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It was a frustrating year, all things considered. Sure, they'd gotten their hands on the Light of Creation fairly early, but that meant that Lup had hours and hours of time spent in the lab with Barry at her side and nothing to do but measure the damn thing and try to ignore her rapidly growing crush. Was crush even the right word any more? Crushes were always more transient. It had been actual years. Eight years since that day with the robot child, twenty-five years since she'd first seen him and thought he was kind of cute in a nerdy way. Eight years of frustration and pining. But now they were done in the lab for the day and Lup could retreat into her room. When they had first signed on for the mission, she and Taako had planned on sleeping in the same room for the duration even if they were assigned two separate rooms. After a while though, they had decided it was just better for everyone if they had their own private spaces to retreat into. 

Which was what left Lup alone in her room now. She tossed her robe on a hook by the door and moved towards the bed. There was a soft whooshing noise as the automatic door slid closed behind her and the dim running lights in the room brightened just slightly. She lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. She had long since memorized the placement of screws and the scratches from years of habitation. It was almost comforting to see something change when a new scratch appeared somewhere on the ship, even her own ceiling, and stayed. Sometimes, she even did it on purpose just to have that variation in what she was seeing. Today though, she could barely focus on that. She had other things on her mind.

They had been doing minute measurements in the lab today, trying to refine their understanding of the Light of Creation. Which meant, for her, hours and hours of watching Barry manipulating delicate instruments with his large hands. He was so precise, so gentle. But there was a subtle strength underneath his skin. He was a man of contradictions. Gentle hands and strong arms, a soft body that hid powerful muscles, a brilliant mind hidden behind layers of anxiety, a dangerous magical specialty and a caring heart. And here she was alone in her room, trying very hard not to think about what it would be like to have those gentle hands on her. 

How would Barry touch her? Lup bit her lower lip. If he would, how would he do it? What was he like in bed? Would he use that hidden strength or rely on those gentle hands? She knew from the Beach Year four years ago that Barry was rather well endowed. Not, of course, that she'd been trying to find out. She'd just decided to spend a morning watching him and Taako at swimming practice and he'd had an accident with his swim trunks. Not to say she was complaining. Definitely not.

Grabbing the pillow, Lup pulled it over her head. This was stupid. Here she was, trying desperately not to think of the man on the other side of the wall, and now she was picturing the one time she'd seen his dick.

"Good job, Lulu. You're a fuckin' disaster."

She said it into the pillow, voice muffled. She was so very fucked, and not even in the fun way. In the opposite of the fun way, even. This was a form of torture. Agonizing, frustrating torture that she was putting herself through, apparently. But...

She sat up, lowering the pillow. It was late. Most of the crew would be asleep. Barry would be asleep. She reached for her wand and closed her hand around the handle just long enough to cast a zone of silence around her. There, now no one else would hear her no matter how thin the interior walls of the ship were. Even so, Lup felt oddly self-conscious. Maybe it was because of what she was considering. There was probably a line somewhere, a line of professional behavior or a line of friendship or even just a line of being trapped in a never-ending of repeated years trying to stop the oncoming apocalypse. And she was probably about to tap dance merrily on that line and tell it to go fuck itself. 

Closing her eyes, Lup bit her lower lip. Barry didn't need to know and that was that.


The quiet of the year had buoyed Barry Bluejeans along thus far, giving him lots of time for thinking and little time spent in the panicked state he was in during the helter skelter years when all they could do was run and fight and survive. No, this year was devoted to science and exploration and problem solving. Not that they had a lot to go on, but it was more than they had started with and it was enough to make him feel like he was doing something useful.

Except when he retreated back to his room when they were done for the day. Except when the door slid closed behind him with that familiar puff of air. The running lights brightened automatically to the levels his human eyes required and he hung his robe on the peg by the door neatly, fishing in the pocket for his wand to put it on his nightstand. He went through his usual procedure to get ready for bed, grabbing a comfortable pair of pajamas and tossing them on the bed while he grabbed his tooth brush. He could hear Lup in her room and Taako in his on the other side. They might be doing the same, but they might be staying up. Elves didn't need as much sleep as humans, after all. He wondered sometimes what that must be like, how much more he could get done if he had four extra waking hours in his day. 

And then instead, he started thinking about Lup. They had been measuring the waves coming off the Light of Creation today. Or trying to at least. Their theories for how to measure them were fairly sound but it required a steady hand and accuracy with the instruments. Those were things he excelled at normally but he'd had to focus beyond anything he'd ever done before just because of Lup's presence. Not that she was doing anything on purpose. She was just there and it was hard to think about anything other than her warm presence right at his back and the floral scent of her shampoo. 

It was like heaven and hell all at once.

He jammed the toothbrush back into its stand and went to sit on the edge of the bed. The ship was quiet this late at night and he looked towards his closed door. It would be easy enough to throw up a silence spell and deal with this. At the same time though... At the same time, if he opened this can of worms, he was running the risk of not being able to focus next time. Of course, the can of worms was pretty well open already. It had been for years, decades even.

Speaking up and doing something about it was one thing, and it was like Taako had said. He had all the time in the world. Even if he was mostly taking that time to spin in circles about how to say something. Not that any of that was pertinent to the situation currently at hand. 

Right now, he was alone in his room, perfectly capable of making sure no one else on the ship knew was he was up to, and frustrated beyond belief at his own inaction and everything else. That, and he couldn't get that floral scent out of his mind. It was headier than any wine.


Lup adjusted the pillows, giving herself something to lean back against, and then wiggled her pants off before tossing them across the room. A pair of red panties followed a moment later. She closed her eyes, leaning back, and ran her hands over her stomach and up, pushing the soft fabric of her shirt up as well. She tried to imagine what his hands would be like. Human hands had shorter fingers and they weren't as graceful as elven hands. Her hands were covered in scars from knives and old burns, the signs of years of life of the road. His were calloused, sure, but not in the same ways. Necromancy left it's own scars, almost like burns but more like from a liquid than from a flame, and far deeper. She'd seen the deep marks on his palms when they'd been working and hadn't quite worked up the courage to ask him what happened. Scars like that didn't usually come from good memories. But still, they were a part of him and she was curious. He was a gentle man, that was one thing she was quite certain of after twenty seven years. She could only assume that would extend to... other things. 

Her fingers brushed the undersides of her breasts and she paused for a moment. Then she cupped her breasts in both hands, imagining what it would be like to have Barry touching her like this. She could almost picture it, could almost picture his eyes on her. She figured it would be the same intensity, the same excitement she had seen in his eyes in the lab when they discovered something new and he wanted to dig deeper. He was a passionate man. She'd seen it so many times about so many things that she had to believe it would extend to this. Thumbs brushing her nipples, she bit her lower lip to muffle a gasp. She remembered the silence she'd settled over her room and grinned. Right, she could get as loud as she wanted and no one would ever know. That was exactly what she needed tonight.

One hand stayed at her breasts as the other slid down her stomach. It would be so easy to just pull her pants back on and go down the hall. It would be so easy to just cast message and beg him to come here. But that was a bridge too far, that was a move she wasn't willing to make just yet. So instead, she brushed her fingers lightly over her clit and imagined they were his.


Barry felt the silence spell settle around his room and let his jeans fall to the floor. He would change to pajamas after. He would clean up his laundry, probably in the morning if he was being realistic. Then he stood there looking at his bed and tried to decide how he was going to do this. He really had two options ahead of him. He could lay back or sit on the edge of the bed. And alright, laying down would probably be more comfortable and kinder on his poor back, but he kept thinking about sitting on the edge of the bed with Lup on her knees in front of him and the image was threatening to be his undoing. He had seen the way her eyes lit up when she got excited about each new world, when she saw something new and interesting or learned some new facet of magic. He longed to bring that same light to her eyes one day, to get to spend forever making her smile. And now he was picturing her looking up at him like that, kneeling on the floor with her hand on his thigh and that little knowing smile on her face.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, knocking himself out of his stupid day dreams. He may want that future, but right now he was just half naked and alone, planning to jerk off while thinking about her. He took his glasses off and tossed them onto the nightstand before scrubbing at his face. He was so utterly hopeless. But if he didn't do something, he was going to explode. He exhaled slowly, looking up towards the blurry ceiling. He palmed his erection through his boxers, making a soft sound that carried in the quiet room. It was so easy to picture her there on her knees, a smile on her face as she ran her fingers over him. She had long fingers, graceful and delicate. Nothing like his hands. And hers were covered in thin scars and small burns from years of cooking. He could almost see them, could remember every one of the scars that criss crossed her skin. How many hours had he spent watching her at work in the lab? How many hours had he gotten to watch the way she handled things, every flourish and movement of those graceful hands?

He had to stand slightly to pull his boxers down and he kicked them off, letting them land somewhere near his laundry pile. A problem for future Barry. For now, he was alone with his desire and his imagination. He wrapped his hand around the base of his shaft, closing his eyes. He pictured her taking him in hand, stroking his cock with those gentle hands. She would bend down, probably teasing him with her words and her mouth. His other hand tightened in his blanket and a whimper escaped his lips. If he was lucky, she would take him in her mouth then, her tongue working over his length and lapping at his tip. The thought alone, just the imagined image, was enough to send a white hot shot of lust through his core. He moaned quietly, trying to keep his voice down even with the spell muffling the sounds coming from his room into nothing. The last thing he wanted was anyone else on the ship to hear what was happening in his quarters tonight.



It was almost embarrassing how wet she was just from thinking about him. No, scratch that. It was embarrassing. And it was wonderful. She wasn't sure what sort of man he was in bed, not really. She could guess though. He had that eager to please aura, like the kind of man who would be perfectly happy to go down on her until she cried. And the image was pretty fucking good, if she did say so herself. He'd have his glasses off, of course. Couldn't have those getting in the way. But she could just imagine the way his fingers would feel against her skin, the way his tongue would feel against her clit. She moaned, slipping two fingers into her heat. The angle wasn't perfect but dammit, she didn't exactly pack a dildo for her scientific space mission. She reached for a pillow, adjusting her position, and then sighed. Much, much better. 
Her head went back and she bit her lower lip, heat curling in her core. She imagined him laying on his stomach between her legs. He would pause, making some joke about needing to breathe and kiss the inside of her leg, the wonderful dork. He was so soft and gentle and handsome. And it killed her that she couldn't just say something. This was as close as she could get for now. Lup curled her fingers, thrusting and dragging as she sought her edge. She imagined Barry's voice, low and husky telling her to come for him. And then she did, with his name as a chant on her lips.
She let her arms fall limp to the bed, breathing heavily as the waves of pleasure coursed through her. Gods, she was fucked.



Barry collapsed backward into the blankets, his breathing coming in shallow gasps. His vision had gone white for a moment in there and now he had the goofiest grin on his face. then his eyes went wide and he double checked that the silence spell was still in place. Thank everything, it was. Good, good. The last thing he needed was for someone to hear him moaning Lup's name. Especially someone like, say, Lup. He stood then, heading back over to the sink to wash his hands. Someday, he would have to do something. He would have to say something. But for now, this was what he had. For now, he was too afraid of changing what they already had, even if it was for something more. Hands clean, he reached for the pajama pants he'd left out. Time to go to bed. He would figure out how to deal with tomorrow, tomorrow.