The Shower Principle
Rating: Just barely NSFW, for Grace’s internal monologue
Pairing: pre-Ryder x Liam
Summary: Seriously, though, who designed the crew quarters that way? (For @right-in-the-vhenan, who requested either #2 or #11 of the NSFW drabbles.
I chose #11, because who doesn’t enjoy a little accidental voyeurism? This got a teensy bit longer, so it gets its own post.)
Where the hell is she?
Grace had checked the kitchen, the cargo bay, the bio lab twice; she’d even looked in the med bay, and there was still no sign of Cora. And it wasn’t that Grace was particularly nervous about attending Sloane’s party–well, she was, but that had more to do with it being, you know, a party–but she still really, really could have used a pep talk before trying to make friendly chit-chat with a bunch of Exiles, most of whom shot her mildly hateful looks wherever she went.
Accepting defeat, Grace headed back to her quarters to change. She reached out to open her door, then paused, glancing to the left. Cora was never in her bunk at this hour. Still, the crew quarters was one of the only places she hadn’t checked.
Grace opened the door.
Her mouth went dry.
It was weird, she’d thought, putting the showers this close to the door. Someone could walk in at any moment and see…
Well. Exactly what she was seeing.
Steam hung heavy in the air, but it did nothing to obscure her view of Liam. Water dripped from wet curls onto his broad shoulders, rolling in gleaming rivulets down his toned back to an ass that made Grace seriously reconsider her stance on whether there was, in fact, a God.
He glanced over his shoulder toward the open door.
He smiled, and Grace nearly fainted.
“Oh, hey Ryder,” he said casually, pulling his towel from its hook and securing it around his hips before turning to face her.
“Hey,” Grace echoed hoarsely. She swallowed. “I was, um. I-I was looking for–”
Fuck, what was her name, again?
“Cora! I was looking for Cora,” she said.
“She went to the market, I think,” Liam said, giving a small shrug that somehow managed to make every glistening muscle flex.
Put your penis in my mouth.
“Oh. Um. Okay,” Grace said, backing out of the room. “That’s–um–” she swore as her back collided with the doorjamb “–that’s… Yeah. …Okay, bye.”