#draomific

[jamesholden]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Naomi Nagata is beautiful. And hard to deny or resist when she's laying naked in Drummer's bed, waiting for her after a long work shift on the Behemoth.

Just some Draomi smut. 13 pages long. That awkward moment when i actually finish and post a fic i started a year and a half ago. shoutout to @sugarfey for the beta and for putting up with how long it took me to finish this.

[jamesholden]

Drummer/Naomi, “I’m not quite sure how it happened, but it did.”

Drummer has to get up for her shift. She doesn’t want to, not with a sleeping Naomi curled up against her. But unlike Naomi, here on shore leave while the Roci’s in the docks, she has work to do. There’s no vacation, no real rest for her. They get a maximum of 16 hours a day together, 16 hours they make the most of. 

Still. Eight hours—at least—of every day belong to Medina. And they start far too soon. 

Drummer sighs, extricates herself from Naomi’s naked warmth, and starts her routine. Shower. Teeth. Face. Hair. Make up. Dress. Boots. Quick and efficient, like any good, hardworking Belter that people relied on. She slips a protein bar into one pocket. No time for breakfast. Maybe her “day off”. When she lets herself work six hours instead of eight. Maybe, while Naomi’s still here.

With a last glance around her cabin, Drummer nods to herself. Ready to go. Her gaze lingers on Naomi, tucked in and still blissfully asleep. Lucky her. Her hand slips into a pocket to grab her hand terminal, to leave a message for Naomi. 

Only to find no hand terminal there. Drummer blinks, looking over at her end table. Nothing. Desk? Nothing. It’s not in the head or in the kitchen area. Not in the lounge area either, though Naomi’s sat on the coffee table. Not under the edge of the bed. The alarm had woken her, she remembers. She rarely uses the room alarm when Naomi’s staying there. It had been on the end table when she’d awoken. She cursed under her breath. She couldn’t leave until she found it. 

“Camina? Everything okay?”

Drummer nearly swears again. Naomi. She hadn’t meant to wake her. It’s easy for a smirk to slip on her face as she turns, despite the frustration. Especially when her eyes fall on Naomi’s bare shoulder peeking above the blankets, her scrunched, sleepy face. 

“Fine,” Drummer states, tone gentle despite the clipped word. “Can’t find my terminal. Go back to sleep.”

“Your hand terminal?” Naomi shifts onto her elbow, the sheets slipping dangerously lower. Drummer’s doing a mental time check to see if she has time to explore underneath them before she even realizes she’s doing it. The things Naomi does to her. “It’s not on the table?”

Drummer shakes her head. “No, but it was there when I…” When Naomi had leaned up, her pillow had moved with her. Only then could Drummer see the glow coming from underneath it. It couldn’t be Naomi’s, still sitting in the lounge. Naomi’s gaze follows hers, and her face becomes the perfect mask of innocence. Drummer scowls. “Naomi… what’s under your pillow?”

“It’s nothing.”

Drummer steps closer, leans over her, lips almost touching hers. “Nothing doesn’t glow. What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, I swear.”

Holding her gaze, Drummer hums. They stare at each other, both unbending. Until Drummer slips her hand under the pillow and finds her hand terminal stuck underneath. The sneaky little brat. As she pulls it out, she sees Naomi’s faux-shocked face. Nearly believes it. “Wow, it was under my pillow? Weird. I’m not quite sure how that happened, but I guess it did.”

“Naomi…”

The innocent mask holds for a few moments more before it finally slips, a shy, apologetic smile taking it’s place. “I’m sorry, I just… wanted a few more minutes with you. You’re the captain, you can spare them.”

Maybe on your ship, where your other captain only leads three people. Words she doesn’t say. They would only cause a hurt she wouldn’t want or mean. She sighs instead. “I did too. But we all have the people we’re responsible for.”

Naomi searches her face for an anger she won’t find. Because Drummer isn’t angry. Not with her. So Drummer closes the distance, kisses her. Slow and sweet, the way Naomi likes being kissed in moments like this. When she pulls away, Naomi whines, soft enough enough to hide, but she doesn’t. Drummer smirks again.

“If you see your crew, tell them I said to have you back in one piece before dinner.”

Naomi smiles back, the one that squishes her face, the one with a hint of pride and mischief that she’d been warned about. That warmed her heart beyond recognition. “They don’t have a choice.”

“Pashang right they don’t,” Drummer whispers as Naomi collapses back into the bed with a laugh, smiles up at her from her pillow. “See you later then.”

Even as she leaves Naomi to her day, to go put up with annoying Inner officers and annoyingly incapable underlings, she feels a little lighter. Because she’ll see Naomi later. Spend another night with her. Wake up beside her another morning. And that can be enough.

send me a prompt!