Archive of Our Own ^beta

The two of them had been avoiding it, without my prompting. I had meant to wait, to allow them the time to come back together naturally. But it had been a week since we’d shared that accidentally intimate evening together, and I was not willing to give Fleet Captain the time to rationalize the event as a fluke. That, and I was impatient.

Thirteen minutes before Fleet Captain was to be relieved from command by Lieutenant Ekalu, I had Kalr Five enter her quarters. Instructed her to lay out tea bowls for three with the rose-glass set (it was my favorite, for the shape, not the color) and to leave the small box of bootblacking supplies at the foot of Fleet Captain’s bed. Kalr Five knew the box’s contents.

Any of the other Kalrs would not think anything strange with the request, but Kalr Five was observant, spent the most time with Fleet Captain. She would see the irregularity of my request to place it near the bed. Kalr Five knew the proper place for everything, of course. 

Possibly, it might have been prudent to ask a different Kalr.

Five put the box down and left the tea set ready for use, clearly understanding what I intended, though her face remained impassive. When she was done and gone, I signaled Lieutenant Seivarden to enter. Her uniform was crisp and perfect, not a single line out of place. She had had the Amaats fuse over it for a quarter hour. I could feel her nerves, but repetition would bring calm. I projected instructions into her vision.

Set the water boiling, I’ll tell you when to steep.

Wordlessly she sat, knees folded, and did as she was bid. When the water was at the correct temperature, she sat back, gave a single glance to the box at the foot of the bed, and closed her eyes.

A minute and a half later, Fleet Captain entered the room. Stopped. I had neglected to alert her that Seivarden would be in her quarters.

Steep the tea.

“Ship?” Fleet Captain asked. She was not angry, though her tone might say otherwise. I did not answer. Seivarden finished steeping the tea, flexed her palms once, and stilled.

Several seconds passed. A quick glance to the closet cubby, where her boots were stored when she was off duty. Then, she sat, opposite Seivarden at the table. She did not remove her boots.

Seivarden spoke for me: “This is Ship. I thought you might put off taking care of yourself, so I took the liberty.”

Fleet Captain was stone-faced, beautiful and distant, like Athoek outside my port hull camera. But like the planet, beyond that cultivated atmosphere, there was a neatly ordered web of life. I did not press into her thoughts nor her vision, but I could feel her thoughts all the same.

Slowly, and with the same practiced poise as last time, Seivarden poured the tea. This time, the smallest flick of an extended pinky finger ended the flourish, the smallest curve of a smile pulling at her lips. Fleet Captain pretended not to see.

I watched as the two of them sipped their tea. Watched the steam rise off my untouched cup, swirling as it heated the air between them. I was fond of metaphors.

I asked Fleet Captain to speak for me: “This is Ship. Thank you for the tea Lieutenant, though I can’t partake, you poured beautifully.”

Seivarden dipped her head in acknowledgement, her eyelashes heavy as she looked up.

To Fleet Captain I said silently, Now it’s your turn. You remember how this goes.

"You favor this blend.” She meant me. It was the same blend as last week’s. Then, a half second for her to form the compliment. “It’s very good. Thank you, Lieutenant.”

Seivarden nodded again, her anticipation just beginning to show. Her hands were folded, so that she would not wrinkle her uniform by grabbing a fistful, and she made several more glances towards the box. Quick. Furtive. Obvious. I took pity on her, had her say: “Would you like to sit down, Fleet Captain?”

She was, of course, already sitting and knew what I meant. She took a moment to wrestle with herself, to find an excuse to protest something she frustratingly could not deny she enjoyed. Then:

“I see you’ve no chair for me to sit,” she said, as much a protest as an invitation.

“I thought this time,” I continued to say through Seivarden, “that perhaps you might be more comfortable on your bed.”

The slightest twitch that one might call a frown, if you did not know her.

“How thoughtful.”

She stood, turned and sat on the edge of her bed, both hands firmly planted on her thighs with her elbows out. As if she was guarding a goal. I took that in through Seivarden’s vision for a moment; her obstinance reminded me of the time Justice of Ialien had blocked civilian docking at Isedeni Station for a full three weeks due to an erroneous command to disengage it’s port grav locks which pulled it lengthwise across the Station’s civilian platforms. It had refused to move, even for Seimet Mianaai, until it’s Captain returned from shore leave and belayed the command. It was an absurdly delightful recollection.

In any case, I directed Seivarden to kneel before her. I was in her biometrics, felt how her heart skipped, let her racing thoughts brush against my own. She smoothed the creases out of her pant legs as she knelt, needlessly, to keep her hands still. The box in reach, her anticipation overtook her. She opened it, pulled out the brush without being told to do so. I let it slide, but only because Fleet Captain had put one foot out. Brought it down on Seivarden’s knee. Somewhat roughly.

All three of us stared at the boot in disbelief.

Does she like that? Fleet Captain asked me after two whole seconds.

Very much. Perhaps as much as you do, if you would ever admit it.

Seivarden continued to sit frozen in shock, hand still aloft holding the brush. She melted in pleasure when Fleet Captain gestured for her to begin.

There was little dirt on the boots, both because there was little to be found on my decks, but also because they had been cleaned only a week prior. Still, there were noticeable scuffs, and the leather was dull enough to warrant a shine. Seivarden began to brush, as diligent and dedicated as one would expect.

Last time, it had been a joke. Seivarden had been half-drunk on arrack, half-drunk on a successful dinner party and offered to scrub them in a faux show of humility. Fleet Captain hadn’t realized the effect the task was having on Seivarden until it was too late to pretend to ignore it. I think all three of us learned something about ourselves, afterward.  

Seivarden hesitated when she set the brush aside, picked up the cloth and polish carefully as if to give Fleet Captain ample time to slap them out of her hands or simply get up and leave. I took pity on her and said to her silently, She wants you to begin. Don’t disobey an order, Lieutenant.

Seivarden bent forward and lifted the boot up, cradling the back of Fleet Captain’s heel with one hand as she pulled the toe of the boot towards her mouth. She flattened her tongue and dragged  it across the length of the seam where the leather met the rubber sole of the boot. With her head tilted, she looked up to Fleet Captain and her unreadable expression. I wondered if Seivarden saw something I could not, but either way, it was a very pretty picture.

I waited now  to see if Fleet Captain would act unprompted. I said nothing to her, instead lavishing Seivarden with silent praise and one or two lewd bits of encouragement. Not that she needed it; she was fully erect already.

Seivarden continued around the boot, taking her time. I especially enjoyed how she curled her tongue, flourished her licks as she opened her mouth wider, moaning a little at the pleasure of the slight over-extension of her jaw. It was, perhaps, wasted on Fleet Captain. 

But not on me.

I sent Seivarden a series of instructions (suggestions really) as she finished the first boot. Things I wanted to see. I watched from Fleet Captain’s vision as she complied.

Seivarden set the boot aside, forcing Fleet Captain’s legs open a little wider than before. I switched to Seivarden’s vision as she looked up and saw Fleet Captain shift in her seat slightly, hips cocked to one side, pushed forward slightly. I watched as she gazed down at Seivarden--gazed down at me. She opened her legs a little wider, giving us the look she gives to the decade soldiers when they are up to something and she knows it. I felt Seivarden’s pulse skip, felt her groin tighten as she shifted towards Fleet Captain’s other boot.

In Fleet Captain’s vision I said, You’re quite into it this time, aren’t you? I’m glad. It pleases me to see you so relaxed. It pleases Seivarden in general.

Fleet Captain said nothing, but instead reached out, ran two fingers along Seivarden’s jaw, then pushed her down. Down until her forehead was nearly touching her boot’s toe. Perhaps I had misjudged her hesitation last week.

“Go on, Seivarden,” Fleet Captain said, her tone liquid. Seivarden shivered, braced herself, one hand on the floor on either side of Fleet Captain’s boot, as if prostrating herself. This time, Seivarden did not lift the boot off the ground but bent over, pants tightening around her thighs and ass as she arched. I wished I’d had another body to see from behind, but that would be far too cruel to Kalr Five.
 

Seivarden lapped at the boot, nearly forgetting to actually attempt to clean it before Fleet Captain nudged her with her other foot. Seivarden began to wipe it down with the cloth, but I had an idea first.

I sent the words to Fleet Captain, knowing it was a toss. I might have asked too much at first, as she only told Seivarden to stop. Abruptly, Seivarden obeyed, the boot less than half clean, a dribble of saliva glistening over her lip she dared wipe away with her gloved hands.

Fleet Captain considered my request. It would be easier for her, if she could use me as a mask. She spoke to Seivarden for me: “This is Ship. Lieutenant, would you be so kind as to undo your trousers and expose yourself?”

Seivarden blinked, processed a moment, and then carefully began to undo the fastenings of her trousers. “Breq,” she said, even as she was pulling herself free of her undergarments, “are you okay with this?”

“Yes.” The smallest pause, an intake of breath. “Ship also requests you open your jacket and shirt as well.”

Eyes wide, she searched Fleet Captain’s face for several more seconds, and then hastily began to undress.

Not so quickly, Lieutenant.

She obeyed, stopped to pull off her gloves and then began undoing the buttons on her jacket with finesse, fingers curled in such a way to be provocative. Like Fleet Captain, bare hands had little effect on me; unlike Fleet Captain, several other parts of human anatomy did.

Obliging to my request, Seivarden sat, bare chested and cock out, without actually removing her clothes. It was satisfying to see all those crisp clean lines buckle and wrinkle as they draped down over her bare shoulder, all the buttons and toggles falling aside to reveal the smooth, dark planes of her chest. Something about the chaos of it elicited a response from Fleet Captain, which heightened my own pleasure. Seeing Seivarden in disarray was familiar to her, almost comforting, I thought. At the very least, it usually forced Fleet Captain to action.

I wanted to tease Seivarden, and so I asked her to speak for me again: “This is Ship. Fleet Captain, don’t you think that Lieutenant Seivarden—“ A pause as her lips trembled beautifully and her adrenaline spiked. “—looks lovely like this? Don’t you think she’s been very good? We should reward her, I think.”

Fleet Captain’s expression remained unchanged. She shifted her weight imperceptibly to favor her good hip. “I suppose you’re right, Ship.”

Something between a hiss and a whine issued from Seivarden as Fleet Captain leaned closer, their faces close, foreheads nearly touching. Fleet Captain reached out a hand. Stopped. Removed her glove (Another half-choked sound from Seivarden) and stroked the side of Seivarden’s temple, let her fingers trail down her jaw again, then down across her collarbone.

Go on.

Fleet Captain continued to pet Seivarden as she hesitated. “You look very Proper like this, but you haven’t finished cleaning my boots.” Seivarden’s expression faltered, almost panicked. Fleet Captain gestured dismissal. “You were interrupted, I know. Ship was impatient to see you.” 

Which was true. 

Seivarden nodded, a small smile on her face. I wasn’t satisfied with that. Fleet Captain could do better, but I would have to ease her into it.

“This is Ship,” I said through Fleet Captain, “Lieutenant, I want you to touch yourself while you clean. But you’re not allowed to come until Fleet Captain says.”

The effect was immediate and perfect. Seivarden visibly shook, and I know Fleet Captain would not have repeated my words had she not approved of my intentions. She could continue to hide behind me this way, which I hoped would loosen her inhibitions and her tongue. 

Seivarden nodded when Fleet Captain gestured for confirmation of understanding. Of consent to the arrangement. Then Fleet Captain opened her legs again, unprompted, her forearms resting on her thighs, bare hands dangling between them. It was a careless and seductive nonchalance that suited her perfectly. Seivarden sucked in a breath and then picked up where she left off with the half-finished shoe.

It was harder for Seivarden to actually polish the boot this way. With one hand busy stroking herself, she could only use her tongue for so long before she would have to put the cloth down and reach for the actual polish. I was worried she would accidentally lick the polish in her frenzied state, but she didn’t, instead slowing her pace to preserve accuracy. And perhaps, to draw out the experience a bit longer. I spoke to Fleet Captain again, silently: She loves praise, you know. Especially if it’s from you.

Fleet Captain didn’t answer. From her point of view, I couldn’t see Seivarden’s hand at work, with her bent over so dutifully. I waited a moment, content to listen to Seivarden’s breathing become erratic, before prodding Fleet Captain again. I could, of course, offer her my praise directly, but it wouldn’t have the same effect. And I wanted to see Fleet Captain do it. I could offer you suggestions, but I’m certain she’d be able to tell I’d composed it.

Thank you, Ship, Fleet Captain said subvocally, but I actually have quite a bit more experience with this than you. 

The reprimand wasn’t heated, but caught me off-guard in a way that I would have to examine more intimately another time. Begging your pardon, sir. I said in reply, because I couldn’t help myself.

While we had been flirting, Seivarden had managed to actually clean the boot. She seemed to realize something was going on between Fleet Captain and I, and had quietly set the brush and polish away in the box once more. She was expectant but tense, all the while stroking herself, her jaw closed tight as if she were attempting to keep her tongue from finding leather again. 

Fleet Captain gestured for her to sit up, nudged Seivarden’s legs open with the toe of her boot so that Seivarden knelt before her in a wide stance. I could see her fully now, from Fleet Captain’s eyes. Even in this state where she was visibly restraining herself, Seivarden still knew how to maximize flattering angles, as if on instinct. 

“Well done,” Fleet Captain said as her eyes flicked down to her boots. “Very well done.” Her gaze slowly lifted and I got a very nice look at Seivarden.

“Thank you, Breq.” Seivarden hesitated, a suppressed question behind her lips as one forefinger swirled against the wet underside of the head of her cock. I sent a reminder into her vision, and she took up a steady pace again, but didn’t dare to look up at Fleet Captain. 

Fleet Captain stood then, took a moment to adjust her uniform. Perplexed and excited, Seivarden straightened her spine, chin up to accentuate that elegant profile as she stared straight ahead. 

Fleet Captain let us both wonder, took a moment to collect herself and, possibly, her courage. She crossed her arms. Uncrossed them again. Spoke to Seivarden: “You know, you must be very good, if you’ve managed to make me actually enjoy this.”

If Seivarden said anything in response it was stifled quickly by a sharp intake of breath as Fleet Captain brought one boot down gently, yet firmly on Seivarden’s genitals. One of the Lieutenant’s hand was still wrapped around her cock, but the other found its way around Fleet Captain’s ankle. She did not impede her in any way, but instead pulled up the fabric of her trousers to run a bare finger against Fleet Captain’s skin.

She wants to touch you so badly.

Fleet Captain pulled Seivarden’s hand away from herself and pressed her boot down harder, knowing I would alert her if she pushed too hard. Seivarden let herself fall backwards, both hands braced against the ground. I thought she might snap, but her height and flexibility pushed her into a soft back bridge until her legs gave way and kicked out of the kneeling position. Fleet Captain let her boot settle harmlessly onto the ground between Seivarden’s legs as the Lieutenant adjusted herself to lie comfortably flat on the ground. Then Fleet Captain lifted her other foot and pressed it against Seivarden’s throat. I sent a second reminder into Seivarden’s vision and she took herself into her hand again, mumbling nonsensically about how much she was enjoying all of this. I was already recording but I made a mental note to play this particular portion back to her some time in the future.

“Is this what you wanted, Ship?” Fleet Captain said out loud to me.

I didn’t know what else to say without giving myself away so I kept it short. “Something like this, yes.” And then, embarrassingly, I added, “Thank you, Captain.”

“You’re welcome, Ship.”

 Another twenty seconds of Fleet Captain’s boot pressing into Seivarden’s throat and then Fleet Captain gave her permission. She let the boot at her throat fall to the side of Seivarden’s head onto the ground while Seivarden came onto the boot between her legs. She continued to whimper, shuttering when Fleet Captain leaned down and grabbed her chin, turning it from side to side to check for damage.

“This is Ship,” I made Seivarden say, her voice raspy with pleasure. “It seems your boot will need to be cleaned again. A shame.”

Fleet Captain shook her head, must have intentionally forced a smile onto her face so that we could see it. It cleared from her face quickly, though the warmth did not. She picked Seivarden up off the ground and settled her into her bed before calmly removing her boots and sitting back on the edge of the bed again. Seivarden curled away from her, though she swung her legs back around so that her calves touched Fleet Captain’s side and let one hand fall back onto her lap. Fleet Captain trailed her fingers casually down Seivarden’s spine and then said to me, “Well Ship, it will have to wait until next week, I suppose.”