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konstantyaTitle: Kiss Me Quicksilver
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Humor, romance, fluff (or as fluffy as these two get, at least).
Characters/pairings: Lore/Ishara Yar.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 991
Summary: Was that was this was all about? Had she accidentally stumbled upon one of his—for lack of a better word—kinks? (Or, Ishara tries to makeup, and Lore is tsundere. Follows the relationship previously set up in Built Upon Sand and Castles.)
If you'd like to leave a comment, please do so on AO3!
Ishara twisted her lips in the mirror. The silver pigment shimmered back and forth in the bright washroom light, but for some reason, it didn't look as pretty or as decadent on her as it had on the saleswoman. Granted, the saleswoman probably had a lot more experience than she did when it came to applying cosmetics, but could that really be the problem? Maybe she just didn't have the right coloring—that was a thing when it came to fashion, wasn't it? Maybe if her hair was darker, or her skin bluer, it would look better. The woman who sold it to her had been an Andorian, after all.
She sighed, and was just about to wipe it off and chalk it up as a failed experiment when the door slid open and Lore barged in. He didn't even look at her, just turned on the tap and started washing his hands.
Ishara bristled. Bad enough that she'd wasted latinum on a cosmetic that looked terrible on her; couldn't she just wallow in her disappointment in peace? "Don't you know how to use the door chime?" she demanded. "What if I'd been using the toilet?"
"You weren't," he said. "I would have heard it if you were. Your biological functions have a very distinct sound."
Ishara rolled her eyes. Really, she should have been used to it by now—how certain he always was of himself—but somehow it never ceased to exasperate.
He'd been doing engine maintenance the last couple of hours and was apparently finished, if the hand washing was anything to go by. He shut off the water, turned to grab the towel, and it was then that he finally looked at her and noticed the metallic sheen of her lips. "What the hell is that?"
Sourly, Ishara pursed them and resumed her reach for a wash cloth. "It's nothing," she muttered. "Just a stupid impulse buy." She was about to bring the cloth to her mouth to wipe the stuff off, but Lore intercepted her, plucking the fabric out of her fingers instead. And before she could protest, he put his other hand to her chin and tilted her head up.
"Open," he ordered.
"What?" The question came out automatically, instinctively, but rather than explain himself, Lore just rolled his own eyes and squeezed the sides of her jaw together. Her mouth popped open, and Ishara just stood there, looking at him like some very confused fish as he proceeded to strategically wipe around her lips. It took her a moment—possibly because the idea itself was so unbelievably bizarre—but it finally registered that he was cleaning up the edges of the lip color.
When he was finished, he dropped the wash cloth in the sink, but still didn't let go of her chin. Instead he just stared at her mouth, even going so far as to lightly run his thumb over her bottom lip. Ishara blinked and let her gaze fall to his own lips, noticing how the white-gold bioplast of his skin was slightly more coppery there, and—holy shit, was that what this was all about?
In the time they'd spent together, she'd gathered that he liked sex. He didn't ejaculate the way human men did, but he seemed to experience some sort of orgasm all the same, and seemed to enjoy the release as much as she did. But for all of that, he never actually appeared to be sexually attracted to her. Oh, sure, he liked her breasts in the sense that fondling them made her flush, and liked her ass in the sense that pinching it made her yelp and glare, but he wasn't drawn to her feminine attributes for the attributes, themselves. He reacted to her walking around naked the exact same way he reacted to her walking around fully clothed, and wearing a low-cut top was as likely to grab his attention as wearing a badger on her head was. In all honesty, the badger probably had a better chance at grabbing his attention.
So was that was this was all about? Had she accidentally stumbled upon one of his—for lack of a better word—kinks?
She never got an answer, because it was then that he lowered his head and kissed her, and that too was a surprise. Not that they never kissed, but…well…it was something of a rarity. Which was something of a shame, she suddenly realized, because the truth was he was a damn good kisser. It had taken her a little while to get used to someone who had 'oral lubricants' instead of saliva, but his technique more than made up for it, and—hell if she would ever admit to it, but—she'd actually grown strangely fond of the way he tasted and felt. It was light and…silky, she supposed was the best way to describe it. Not exactly oily, or even wet, but silky.
After a long moment he broke away, but still lingered close, his eyes still on her mouth. Thoughtfully, he pressed his own lips together, a little bit of the color having rubbed off on them, and Ishara took the opportunity to finally ask, "Is…is this a turn-on for you?" Immediately, Lore dropped his hand from her and straightened, looking for all the galaxy like he'd just eaten a lemon or else smelled a particularly rotten egg.
"What? No." He gave her a disgusted look up and down and added, "Don't try to project your species' base sexual quirks onto me." And with that, he flounced—literally flounced—out of the washroom and out of sight. Ishara was left gaping in incredulous amusement.
She looked back in the mirror and wiped a finger at the corner of her mouth, where the color had smeared, before stepping back and giving it a final appraisal. Well. Maybe it had been a worthwhile purchase, after all.
-----
A/N: So Castles gave us "Lore: hot bartender or hottest bartender?" and now this fic gives us "Lore: hot makeup artist or hottest makeup artist?" You decide!
In other news, this fic came about because I've been on a Lore/Ishara kick as of late, and also happened to dig through my makeup the other day, where I found this old silver lipstick, and perhaps inevitably, inspiration struck. (Regretfully, the name of the lipstick was not "Kiss Me Quicksilver," but we can certainly pretend it was. XD)
All other fics can be found here.
Fandom: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Humor, romance, fluff (or as fluffy as these two get, at least).
Characters/pairings: Lore/Ishara Yar.
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 991
Summary: Was that was this was all about? Had she accidentally stumbled upon one of his—for lack of a better word—kinks? (Or, Ishara tries to makeup, and Lore is tsundere. Follows the relationship previously set up in Built Upon Sand and Castles.)
If you'd like to leave a comment, please do so on AO3!
- Kiss Me Quicksilver -
Ishara twisted her lips in the mirror. The silver pigment shimmered back and forth in the bright washroom light, but for some reason, it didn't look as pretty or as decadent on her as it had on the saleswoman. Granted, the saleswoman probably had a lot more experience than she did when it came to applying cosmetics, but could that really be the problem? Maybe she just didn't have the right coloring—that was a thing when it came to fashion, wasn't it? Maybe if her hair was darker, or her skin bluer, it would look better. The woman who sold it to her had been an Andorian, after all.
She sighed, and was just about to wipe it off and chalk it up as a failed experiment when the door slid open and Lore barged in. He didn't even look at her, just turned on the tap and started washing his hands.
Ishara bristled. Bad enough that she'd wasted latinum on a cosmetic that looked terrible on her; couldn't she just wallow in her disappointment in peace? "Don't you know how to use the door chime?" she demanded. "What if I'd been using the toilet?"
"You weren't," he said. "I would have heard it if you were. Your biological functions have a very distinct sound."
Ishara rolled her eyes. Really, she should have been used to it by now—how certain he always was of himself—but somehow it never ceased to exasperate.
He'd been doing engine maintenance the last couple of hours and was apparently finished, if the hand washing was anything to go by. He shut off the water, turned to grab the towel, and it was then that he finally looked at her and noticed the metallic sheen of her lips. "What the hell is that?"
Sourly, Ishara pursed them and resumed her reach for a wash cloth. "It's nothing," she muttered. "Just a stupid impulse buy." She was about to bring the cloth to her mouth to wipe the stuff off, but Lore intercepted her, plucking the fabric out of her fingers instead. And before she could protest, he put his other hand to her chin and tilted her head up.
"Open," he ordered.
"What?" The question came out automatically, instinctively, but rather than explain himself, Lore just rolled his own eyes and squeezed the sides of her jaw together. Her mouth popped open, and Ishara just stood there, looking at him like some very confused fish as he proceeded to strategically wipe around her lips. It took her a moment—possibly because the idea itself was so unbelievably bizarre—but it finally registered that he was cleaning up the edges of the lip color.
When he was finished, he dropped the wash cloth in the sink, but still didn't let go of her chin. Instead he just stared at her mouth, even going so far as to lightly run his thumb over her bottom lip. Ishara blinked and let her gaze fall to his own lips, noticing how the white-gold bioplast of his skin was slightly more coppery there, and—holy shit, was that what this was all about?
In the time they'd spent together, she'd gathered that he liked sex. He didn't ejaculate the way human men did, but he seemed to experience some sort of orgasm all the same, and seemed to enjoy the release as much as she did. But for all of that, he never actually appeared to be sexually attracted to her. Oh, sure, he liked her breasts in the sense that fondling them made her flush, and liked her ass in the sense that pinching it made her yelp and glare, but he wasn't drawn to her feminine attributes for the attributes, themselves. He reacted to her walking around naked the exact same way he reacted to her walking around fully clothed, and wearing a low-cut top was as likely to grab his attention as wearing a badger on her head was. In all honesty, the badger probably had a better chance at grabbing his attention.
So was that was this was all about? Had she accidentally stumbled upon one of his—for lack of a better word—kinks?
She never got an answer, because it was then that he lowered his head and kissed her, and that too was a surprise. Not that they never kissed, but…well…it was something of a rarity. Which was something of a shame, she suddenly realized, because the truth was he was a damn good kisser. It had taken her a little while to get used to someone who had 'oral lubricants' instead of saliva, but his technique more than made up for it, and—hell if she would ever admit to it, but—she'd actually grown strangely fond of the way he tasted and felt. It was light and…silky, she supposed was the best way to describe it. Not exactly oily, or even wet, but silky.
After a long moment he broke away, but still lingered close, his eyes still on her mouth. Thoughtfully, he pressed his own lips together, a little bit of the color having rubbed off on them, and Ishara took the opportunity to finally ask, "Is…is this a turn-on for you?" Immediately, Lore dropped his hand from her and straightened, looking for all the galaxy like he'd just eaten a lemon or else smelled a particularly rotten egg.
"What? No." He gave her a disgusted look up and down and added, "Don't try to project your species' base sexual quirks onto me." And with that, he flounced—literally flounced—out of the washroom and out of sight. Ishara was left gaping in incredulous amusement.
She looked back in the mirror and wiped a finger at the corner of her mouth, where the color had smeared, before stepping back and giving it a final appraisal. Well. Maybe it had been a worthwhile purchase, after all.
-----
A/N: So Castles gave us "Lore: hot bartender or hottest bartender?" and now this fic gives us "Lore: hot makeup artist or hottest makeup artist?" You decide!
In other news, this fic came about because I've been on a Lore/Ishara kick as of late, and also happened to dig through my makeup the other day, where I found this old silver lipstick, and perhaps inevitably, inspiration struck. (Regretfully, the name of the lipstick was not "Kiss Me Quicksilver," but we can certainly pretend it was. XD)
All other fics can be found here.
