Fandom: Babylon 5
Prompt: 051- Water
Word Count: 399
Author's Notes: This is another edited re-run, this time featuring some tentacle action. If the concept of Vir having a sex drive freaks you out, you’ll probably want to pass this one by. I’m just saying. *g*
After Lord Donato had at last collapsed in a drunken heap, Ilia had touched Vir. Maybe, with the chaos of the celebration, he had simply imagined it- or maybe it was completely by accident. But after he had struggled, red-faced, to heave his snoring superior onto an over-stuffed couch, as he anxiously arranged Donato’s rumpled clothing into some approximation of respectability, Vir had felt a flutter of something at his waist. It was a teasing play at a very sensitive spot and it had left him momentarily speechless.
Vir was dreaming of Ilia almost nightly now since the Celebration of Life, and during the day, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It made everything all the more awkward.
Sighing, Vir sank slowly into his bath and breathed in the warm smell of soap and linfra oil. Ilia smelled of linfra earlier that day when she leaned over his shoulder to snatch a berry from his dish. As she reached, her sheer modesty piece fell away, revealing the curve of one breast. It was difficult to find his place in his reading after that. Even now, thinking about it, he was finding it difficult to simply breathe.
Something twitched beneath the water, and Vir reached a shaking hand under the bubbles and stroked the end of one brachiarte until his chest was hitching with pleasure. His eyes fluttering closed, he began to rub the one beside it with his other hand, imagining that Ilia was bathing with him, her breasts glistening with oil, her painted lips stained with purple juice.
Then, slowly, gradually, he extended both brachiarte. The slickness of the soap and oil caused his grasp to slip slightly, but still, he held on, guiding both to his mouth and tentatively licking the rough surface of one with his tongue. He shuddered at the bitter taste of the linfra, but a moment later, he decided the sensation felt too good to stop. Alternatively, he sucked and played his fingers across his brachiarte, enjoying the inexorably building pressure until, at last, it became too much and Vir came, grunting deeply, his fingertips tingling, his back arching. Bath water sloshed over the edge of the tub and onto the tile floor as he came back down.
A minute later, Vir scrambled from the bath and hastily threw on his robe, trembling, gasping for air, his face a brilliant shade of crimson.