[personal profile] singerdiva01
Title: An Accident Destined to Happen
Word Count: 3700
Rating: MA
Pairing: Bill Adama/Saul Tigh/Laura Roslin
Summary: [livejournal.com profile] plaid_slytherin requested some B/S/L smut for the [livejournal.com profile] bsg_epics holiday fic exchange. A bit late, but here's some dirty, descriptive porn about how an untimely erection led to B/S/L's first time together.

Bill Adama hadn’t been faced with this problem since Ms. Ferguson’s 8th grade algebra class. It was probably his teenage hormones but Betsy McCallister’s pert nipples straining through her tank top were definitely a factor. Hell, Ms. Ferguson herself, with those legs that went on for miles and that husky voice that probably came from smoking sixty cigarettes a day but seemed quite alluring at the time, also played more than a little part in the incident.

But it was one thing for a teenage boy to get a raging hard on at an inarguably inappropriate time. It was quite another for a sixty year-old Admiral to be straining against his zipper during a meeting with his XO and the frakking president.

It started when they all adjourned to the president’s bedroom to finish their meeting and Laura encouraged them both to shed their jackets. Just the sight of Saul’s rippling muscles, that tuft of white hair sticking out the top of his tanks, was enough to get him going. In his defense, it had been weeks since they’d been able to make time to be together and even his last wank in the shower was six days ago.

And then there was Laura Roslin. Her legs put Ms. Ferguson’s to shame and he really started to feel the friction against his fleet issue boxers when she curled them underneath her, inadvertently exposing an expanse of pale, muscled thigh.

He willed himself not to look at either of them. Tried to focus on the topic at hand. Whatever the hell that was; he couldn’t make heads or tails out of exactly what his two favorite voices in the world were arguing about.

When he was forced to give up on that, he started on his visual list of boner killers. Dead babies. Cylons pointing guns at him. His beloved grandmother on her deathbed.

Then Laura laughed, Saul guffawed at whatever she’d said, and he was back to square one.

A grown professional hiding his erection with one of the president’s throw pillows.

“Alright, gentlemen, let’s call it a night,” Laura said with a note of finality. “I can’t wait to get into something more comfortable and crawl into bed.”

Of all the things he’s missed while he was struggling with his little problem, he heard that.

His cock definitely heard it and gave a little jump at the unbidden image of Laura Roslin in her silk nightgown, inexplicably wearing her trademark black pumps and wielding a ruler.

His forced that little image away and willing his brain to switch to red alert. He cleared his throat and glanced at Saul, who’d already gotten up from the couch and started to replace his jacket. Somehow his lover missed his pleading look. The president, on the other hand, did not.

“Are you alright, Bill?”

He looked up at her and tried to smile. Tried to think of an excuse to walk out of the room with her dainty little pillow held over his crotch.

If he could even walk. His traitorous brain travelled back to the grand finale of the algebra class incident, as he’d come to think of it. He’d tried to play it cool, get up with his backpack in front of him, and make a hasty exit to the bathroom.

He got exactly three steps before the friction in his boxers sent him barreling over the edge.

Just the thought of that long ago climax, humiliating as it was, drew an involuntary groan from his lips.

“Bill?”

Saul was kneeling at his side immediately, concern darkening his features. Laura followed shortly after and he couldn’t help but jump when she rested her hand on his knee.

“I’m fine,” he managed. He was sure his attempt at a smile fell somewhere between a glare and a grimace. “Right. We should go.”

Laura let loose a little giggle. “Planning on taking my pillow with you, Admiral?” She gave the lacy frill on the side a playful tug and Bill couldn’t help but groan again, much louder this time. If that wasn’t bad enough, he felt his eyes slip shut and his head hit the back of the chair.

Probably instinctively, he’d never really know, Laura pulled the pillow away roughly and tightened her grip on his knee. He opened his eyes just in time to see her mouth drop open and her eyebrows meet her hairline.

“Oh, my,” she gasped. Almost immediately, she started giggling again. Saul’s lips quirked, although Bill could tell his XO’s brain had joined his in battle mode, trying to plot a way to get out of this one.

Laura Roslin was quicker than both of them.

“Is this for me or for Saul, Bill?”

Her voice had turned husky and her hand, which she’d never dropped from his leg, crept higher. He chanced a look at Saul and Laura’s knowing hum told him the jig was up.

“Aha! I’ve been wondering about your feelings on fraternizing with a superior for quite some time now,” she said quietly. She quickly removed her hand from his leg. “Now I know.”

Bill’s chest tightened as a sad look passed across her face. Saul shifted at his side and when he spoke his voice was almost too low to hear.

“Oh, we’ve definitely thought about it,” he admitted. He shrugged uncomfortably. “Quite a bit, if we’re being honest.”

Bill was about to attempt an explanation when Laura cut him off with a raised hand.

“Wait. Let’s be clear here,” she said in her most presidential tone. “You’ve thought about me, with you, together?”

The note of hope in her voice sent a renewed shock through Bill’s erection.

“Oh, yeah,” he groaned, almost without thinking. She turned to Saul for confirmation and he rewarded her with a sheepish grin.

“And what exactly have you thought about?”

Her voice had once again become a purr and Bill saw Saul adjust himself out of the corner of his eye. He’d been looking at Saul’s junk for decades and he could tell his friend was rapidly catching up in the arousal department.

“Definitely nothing as hot as this,” Saul grunted.

Bill frowned and tried to telepathically order Saul to shut the frak up.

Laura stood quickly and started to pace.

“I should reprimand you both,” she said sternly after she’d completed a lap. She turned and fixed Bill with a glare. “Especially you, Admiral.”

Both men were speechless. Bill knew Saul, too, was fearing their worst nightmare, one they’d managed to avoid for decades, might be about to come true.

“For holding out on me for so frakking long,” the president continued. “I’ve been living like a nun and all the while, my two highest ranking officers have been withholding information.”

Bill breathed a sigh of relief and felt Saul do the same at his side. He snaked his arm around Saul’s back and gave it a reassuring pat. Laura still paced in front of them but Bill knew her well enough to know the danger had passed.

“So, the question is, how should I punish you?”

She put her hands on her hips and gazed at them both. Bill felt like he was back in school, withering under the gaze of a teacher trying to decide what to do with him.

Gods, that was a good fantasy. He dug his fingers into Saul’s back and from the way he twitched he knew it was a shared one.

“Saul,” she indicated Bill with a jab of her finger, “take his uniform off. Leave his boxers and don’t you dare touch his cock.”

Saul grinned. “Yes, ma’am.” He positioned himself so he could remove Bill’s tanks. Once they were off, he dared flick his tongue over one nipple and then the other. Bill chanced a look at Laura, half wondering if Saul was going to get a reprimand, but she’d settled herself back on the bed like she was watching a pyramid game on TV.

Saul had his boots and socks off in seconds and when he went for the zipper of his pants, Bill started.

“Gotta be careful, Saul,” he growled.

He leashed all of his remaining control as Saul slowly, carefully as ordered, eased his pants over his now almost painful erection and pulled them off.

“What’s next, Madame President?”

Saul smiled cheekily and Laura grinned back as she stood. Without warning she crossed the few feet in between them, cupped Bill’s chin in her palm, and swooped down to catch his lips in a deep, wet kiss.

Gods, it was as good as he’d imagined. Better, even.

She nibbled as his lips before thrusting her tongue in again. Her lips were soft and warm and she tasted faintly of the mint tea she preferred.

Frak, it was so much better.

He started panting into her mouth. Just as suddenly as she’d initiated the contact, she pulled away and Bill couldn’t manage to contain a decidedly un-Admiral like whimper.

She smirked and turned her attention to Saul, rubbing one hand on his cheek and running the other through the hair on his chest.

She glanced over her shoulder at Bill.

“I take it Saul’s been your’s for a while, Admiral?” Without waiting for a response she turned and attacked Saul’s lips with the same hunger she had his own. Saul took the initiative to pull her hips close and grind his now equally impressive erection against her body.

Bill felt his balls start to tighten. He watched as Saul palmed Laura’s ass through the fabric of her skirt and gasped when she made a deep, growling sound at the back of her throat. He raised his hand to give himself some relief but before he could get there, Laura whirled around.

“Don’t touch yourself, Bill,” she warned. “Don’t or this all ends right now.” She turned and started taking off Saul’s tanks.

“This is about your punishment, remember?” She bit Saul’s nipple, causing him to yelp. “And I have eyes in the back of my head so don’t even think about it, Admiral.”

Bill slowly lowered his hand. He thought he might have to sit on them to resist the urge when the president undid Saul’s zipper and pulled his pants and boxers to the floor in one fluid motion, letting his erection bob free.

Gracefully, she dropped to her knees and wrapped her lips around the tip without pretense. Saul’s eyes widened and he met Bill’s gaze even as he started to make that little grunting noise. Laura was working him with the same determination she applied to everything and Bill had the presence of mind to be impressed that she could take all of Saul’s considerable length without any trouble at all.

It was one of the most erotic things Bill Adama ever had the privilege to experience. Laura’s auburn locks bouncing on her back as she deep throated his lover, Saul’s whines of pleasure, previously reserved only for him, each time she released him just to swallow him back up again.

Finally, Bill couldn’t take it anymore. He could feel his pre-cum wetting his boxers and his balls were so engorged they were moving on their own. Each scrape of fabric against skin was torture and he was so focused on not exploding he didn’t even realize he was begging until he heard his voice over Laura’s slurps.

“Oh, Gods, please,” he muttered, “please.”

Laura stopped her ministrations and slowly worked her lips down Saul’s cock until it came free with a pop. Saul’s eyes rolled back and Bill watched him almost grab her head to put her back in place before obviously thinking better of it.

“Oh,” Laura said innocently, “are you wishing this was you, Bill?” She placed a gentle kiss on the tip of Saul’s penis and grinned deviously when he had to shuffle his feet to keep from losing his balance. “Do you want me to suck your cock?”

“Oh, Gods, yes,” he nodded eagerly. Without waiting for instructions he pulled his boxers off and let them hang at his knees. “Please, Laura.”

She pretended to consider it for a painful minute before standing to loom over him.

“Please, what?”

Bill swallowed hard.

“Please, Madame President.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Tell me what you want me to do, Bill.”

Bill heard Saul groan from behind her but he couldn’t bring himself to feel bad. He needed release and he needed it now.

“Please suck my cock, Madame President,” he grunted.

The absurdity of the statement registered somewhere in the back of his mind, way, way back there, but it evidently did something for Laura because she grinned, dropped to her knees, and wrapped her lips around his length.

“Oh, frak,” he cried out, surprised by the suddenness of the motion and how hard and deep she was taking him without any warm up. He wrapped his hands through her hair and started guiding her, setting a quick pace, and the first time he hit the back of her throat he was coming and coming hard, bucking with abandon, as he found the release he’d been needing for hours.

“Oh, Gods, oh gods, frak,” he panted. He felt her swallowing and working the last spurts out of him and he could have sworn this was better than any orgasm he’d ever had as a younger man. His eyes rolled back in his head and he cried out a final time when her fingers found his balls and squeezed gently.

He came down slowly, only vaguely aware of Laura’s tongue licking him clean and the sound of his own ragged breathing.

Eventually, he opened his eyes and gazed up at the ceiling of Colonial One. The beige metal shocked him back to reality and the enormity of what he’d just done -- with whom, to whom, in front of whom -- slammed into him like a Raptor.

“Gods, Laura,” he stuttered. He looked down and realized his hands were still tangled in her hair. He quickly pulled them free and put his hand under her chin. “Oh, Laura, I’m so sorry.”

She licked her lips slowly before meeting his gaze. He expected to see shock or disgust. Anger would be perfectly justified. Instead, she looked like the cat who’d gotten her cream.

“Whatever for, Bill?” She smiled at him predatorily. “Trust me, it was my pleasure.”

Bill blinked at her stupidly for a second before his concern transferred to Saul. They’d shared women before, fantasized about it much more often, but Saul had teased about losing him to Laura Roslin far too many times for it not to be a deeply held fear.

“Frak, that was hot,” Saul said as he came into view, reassuring him like he’d read his mind. Bill almost laughed at the sight of his XO standing next to the president, still on her knees, with his cock standing at attention.

Bill’s heartbeat began to slow and he nodded in relief. A thought suddenly occurred to him.

“Laura, if that was punishment, well, I’m not sure I could survive a reward.”

Laura’s eyes flashed and she jumped to her feet with the grace of a woman half her age.

“Oh, that wasn’t your punishment, Bill.” She turned to Saul and again ran a delicate finger down the center of his chest. “Saul, in all those times you imagined me joining you two, did you ever think of frakking me?”

Bill watched as understanding dawned on Saul’s face.

“Oh, yeah,” he confirmed. “Frak yeah.”

She hummed and turned back to Bill. They all looked down at his limp cock, hiding pitifully between his legs.

“The Admiral seems to be a bit tired now,” she husked as she turned back to Saul and started playing with his chest again, “and I don’t know much about the military but I think it’s the XO’s job to fill in when he’s unavailable. Right?”

Saul nodded eagerly.

“And I think it’s also the XO’s job to give the Admiral a play by play of the action, correct?”

“Yeah,” he muttered. Bill saw his eyes darken and wasn’t the least bit surprised when Saul started to undo the buttons of Laura’s blouse without leave.

Bill didn’t know whether to cry or thank the Gods he didn’t believe in. Frakking Laura Roslin while Saul watched was the hottest thing he’d ever conjured up.

Watching Saul frak her suddenly seemed like a very close second.

Still in a post orgasmic haze, the lead up unfolded in slow motion. Saul wasted no time in availing Laura of her shirt and both men gasped in unison when he unhooked her bra and revealed her breasts.

“Perfect, Laura,” Saul said reverently, taking one in each of his palms. He leaned down to take one in his mouth but stopped suddenly to look up and silently ask for consent.

If possible, Bill’s love and respect for his partner swelled to new heights in that moment. The same thought seemed to occur to Laura and she smiled lovingly at both of them before nodding permission.

Bill could tell this was the first time anyone but the cantankerous old Major had handled this skin since it almost killed her by the way she arched her neck and let out a primal whimper. Saul put his hand to her back to hold her up without ever breaking contact and when she slumped in his arms he was ready to catch her and lift her gently onto the bed.

She lay still while Saul carefully removed her skirt and then her underwear. Saul winked at Bill when her glistening red curls came into view. That particular bet was one he was fine with losing.

Laura moaned when Saul stroked her, tossing her head back and forth in pleasure. Somehow, thought, she managed to maintain her authority when she spoke.

“Play by play, Saul,” she ordered. “Tell the Admiral what’s going on.”

Bill smiled, relieved he hadn’t been forgotten.

“Yeah, Colonel, status report.”

Saul smirked at him and ran a finger more pointedly through her sex.

“She’s wet, Bill,” he muttered, “so frakking wet.”

Bill shuddered and watched with interest as Saul stroked the president until she was squirming and arching her hips in time with Saul’s ministrations.

“Please, Saul,” she panted finally. “Please, now.”

Saul turned slightly to smirk at Bill. He stopped moving his fingers and looked down at Laura with mock innocence.

“Please? I didn’t know the president said please.” Laura opened her eyes to glare and Saul grinned broadly. “What do you want me to do, Madame President?”

“Frak me now, Colonel. That’s an order,” she growled.

“Yes, ma’am,” Saul muttered. He got into position and lovingly lifted Laura’s hips to rub his erection in her wetness. They hissed in unison when he slipped inside and Bill’s heart swelled again when Saul let her take the lead, probably mindful of how long it had been for her.

His hypothesis was correct, he decided, because Laura was writhing by the time Saul was sheathed all the way inside. He set a slow pace but soon the president decided to take command by wrapping her long legs around his waist and forcing him to adopt her more punishing tempo.

The sight of Laura Roslin losing herself in the pleasures of being frakked, eyes clenched shut, her hands grabbing frantically at the sheets, her hair, her breasts, almost had Bill going again despite his spent state.

Somehow, as consumed as she was, Laura seemed to know it. Without losing her rhythm she opened her eyes and fixed him with a pleading gaze.

“Bill, get over here.”

The admiral didn’t have to be told twice. He jumped up and made his way to the bed. When no further instructions were issued he took the initiative and started suckling Laura’s breasts, drawing from her lips a long, satisfied moan.

By the time he’d made his way up her neck and to her earlobe, he could tell by the noises Saul was making that he was getting close. Reluctantly, Bill pulled back and reached down to find Laura’s clit. With a few strokes she was crying out, her whole body shaking, and that sent Saul flying over the edge after her.

As soon as Laura’s shudders subsided, Saul gently pulled out of her and grinned at his old lover and his new one.

“Where’s the head?”

Laura giggled and pointed in the right direction. As soon as he turned to go, Laura reached up to caress Bill’s cheek.

“Enjoy your punishment, Admiral?”

She looked so relaxed, more serene than he’d ever seen her but the melancholia was already setting in and he looked down at the ground with a sigh.

“What is it, Bill?” Laura ruffled his fingers through his hair, only looking up for a moment when Saul entered the room with a wet washcloth. “What’s the matter?”

Saul settled himself on the bed and cleaned her with practiced ease. When Bill remained silent, he spoke quietly.

“He’s thinking too much, Madame President,” he diagnosed. “It’s his best and worst trait.”

Bill glared at Saul even as he nodded.

“This was wonderful, truly. But we all have certain responsibilities…”

He trailed off when Laura placed a finger to his lips.

“If you want to figure out how to make this work, we will.” She smiled at Saul and he nodded. “I’m not asking for a marriage. Just a good frakking by my Admiral and his XO every once in a while.”

Bill had to chuckle at the playfulness in her tone and Saul’s responding guffaw.

“Alright, but we should go,” he said with a nod at Saul, who understood it was his cue to start getting dressed.

By the time they were both presentable enough to make their way to the shuttle, the president was already on the edge of sleep.

“Tomorrow night, your quarters, admiral,” she mumbled tiredly.

Bill turned to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

“I’ve been wanting you to frak me while Saul frakked you since New Caprica,” she clarified with a predatory albeit sleepy leer at his crotch.

For the second time that day, Bill Adama found himself faced with figuring out how to exit the president’s quarters with a glaringly obvious erection.
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