TITLE: "Pilot's Tale, Part Three"
RATING: NC-17, explicit m/m sexual activity
PAIRINGS: John/Aeryn, John/D'Argo
SUMMARY: Pilot gives us a further glimpse of what occurs aboard Moya between
the life-threatening disasters depicted on the show.
NOTES: The author wishes to apologize profusely for his unscrupulous use of
Farscape characters in this pornographic story. It's all for the fans. Thanks
for not suing.
FEEDBACK: If you wish to praise or flame me, please direct all e-mail to
[email protected], and if you wish to chat, my ICQ# is 22385305.)
Pilot's Home :
For some time now, the crew of Moya has been acting quite strangely. When
they're not fighting, they're copulating, and quite often in ways that boggle
the imagination. Zhaan has added evening romps with Chiana to her daily
routine, immediately following her meditations. Aeryn and John are moving
their romance up several notches, although they have yet to, as John puts it,
"consummate the relationship," whatever that means.
What worries me, however, is the mood that D'Argo has been in for the last
few days. Immediately following his coupling with Rygel, he seemed to back
out of his hyper-rage, but lately, it's come back with a vengeance. I'm
just afraid that the next one of us who finds themselves on the receiving
end of this is going to regret it.
But then, what do I know? Nobody's even made a token effort to include me in
any of their fun in the last few days, either. They've been avoiding me, and
I don't know why. What's bothersome about it is that I, too, have been having
desires to touch the others.
Oh, no. The DRDs are flooding my viewscreens again.
Viewscreen 2: Galley
"Ok, open 'em." At John's command, Aeryn took her hands from over her eyes.
To her amazement, he had completely transformed their dining room - instead
of a barracks style galley, the lighting was dim - to her further amusement,
the only light there was coming from burning food cubes. He had apparently
stuffed bits of string in them, lit them, and they were burning quite nicely.
"This is how humans cook, is it? Setting fire to their food?" Aeryn grinned
at him, letting him know that she was kidding with him. She let her senses be
delighted by the aromas of his rigged candle - perhaps food cubes had meant
to be used this way, instead of as comestibles? As her eyes adjusted to the
light, she realized that it wasn't the burning food cubes she smelled - a
pity, she thought, because she was hoping there was something pleasant about
them - but rather, two plates of wholly unfamiliar foodstuffs, steam gently
rising from them. "What is this lovely smelling food?" she asked, completely
amazed. She didn't remember him buying anything like this on the commerce
"This, my dear, is what my daddy used to call an aphrodisiac. I call it
spaghetti marinara. You be the judge."
"Never mind. Not important. What is important, however, is that you eat."
"But where did you get this stuff? I remember you coming back with some
fruit, some white powder, and some horrible smelling shells. This is what
you made of this? Humans are more resourceful than I thought."
"That's not saying much, Aeryn. You don't seem to think we're all that
resourceful to start with."
She planted her lips on his to silence him. "Shut up, Crichton. Let's eat."
Viewscreen 1 : Hallway outside of the Galley
"Look at how happy he is with her," D'Argo mumbled under his breath. "He
thinks he loves her. He has no idea what real love is. He doesn't know what
it means to be willing to lay down your life in battle for your beloved,
only to lay down beside them later. And he doesn't know how badly he hurts
me, to lay down beside her after I have risked myself so many times for him."
D'Argo tiptoed back down the hall, back towards his quarters. He picked up a
DRD and held it in place while the doors shut on it, squinting as the sparks
flew out of it's shattering body.
"Must you keep destroying my DRDs, D'Argo?" I asked with growing impatience.
I'm not sure if he really understands that there is a limited supply of them.
Crichton has tried to explain how, to D'Argo, a DRD is like a stress ball,
but I don't see how stress can ball up. I'm under constant stress, and I
don't ball up. I think they're both just incapable of dealing with their
situations. I can't tell you how much D'Argo's destructive tendencies make me
want to open the hangar doors while he's practicing his swordplay in there
"I'm sorry," he barked, and I could tell he meant it. "I just don't know
what's wrong with me." That was a lie, but how could he say that he was in
love with John, and it hurt him too much to see him with Aeryn? How could he
admit it to Pilot if he couldn't admit it to John?
How much of a coward was he?
He let out a mighty bellow of rage. "I am not a coward!" He raced off in the
direction of the galley. Upon his arrival, he threw open the doors, startling
John and Aeryn. They separated from each other in shock, both reacting to
internal "fight or flight" mechanisms. Instinctively, John put himself
between D'Argo and Aeryn, seeing the crazed look in the Luxan's eyes.
What am I doing, he thought. She can outfight me with her hands tied behind
her back. Lether fuck with him. "Easy, big guy," he said, trying to calm down
the enraged D'Argo. "You don't really want to hurt either of us."
"Of course I don't want to hurt you. Especially you, John." Before John or
Aeryn could react, D'Argo had crossed the distance between them, and he
placed his mouth on John's, pulling him close, kissing him more deeply, more
passionately, than he had even kissed his darling Lo'Laan. Pulling away, he
said, "I love you. I have loved you since the day you showed me what you
really are, when you told Aeryn how much more she could be. I learned how
much more I could be. How much we could be."
Slowly, awareness of what was going on around him began to sink into John.
He realized what had just occurred, and what was being said to him. He also
started becoming aware of what was happening to himself ", for the life of
him, Crichton couldn't figure out why he did this, but he did. Before he
finished his sentence, he threw his arms around D'Argo, and threw him
backwards onto the bed, his mouth on D'Argo's, his tongue forcing it's way
into the Luxan's mouth. Almost immediately, his erection returned, harder
than it had ever been before. His hands slid under the bottom of D'Argo's
black silken top, and he flung it over his shoulder. His hands roamed over
the incredibly muscular, but completely hairless chest of the Luxan.
Completely in a frenzy, he started kissing and nibbling and sucking on all
of him - his ears, his chin, his neck. He began to grind his body against
him, feeling the hardness that each had, feeling the warmth of D'Argo's
body pressed against his throbbing cock.
Feverishly, he kissed his way down D'Argo's chest and stomach, following
each of the intricately carved muscles. The lines around his pectorals, the
crevices created by his supremely toned abdomen, further and further down
he dragged his tongue, reveling in the smells, the feel, the tastes of the
Luxan's body. With more force than he thought he possessed, he tore D'Argo's
pants off, and gasped at the wonder he had unleashed. Like a man who had
crawled through the desert happening upon a water fountain, he grabbed the
Luxan's cock with both hands, and thrust his mouth down upon it. D'Argo
threw his head back in pleasure, his hands running through Crichton's hair,
tracing a path along his ears, his fingers pressing lightly against the back
of the other man's neck. His breathing and the bucking of his hips began to
match pace with the bobbing of Crichton's head on his painfully stiff shaft,
and he got a firmer grip on John's head.
John removed his top hand from the thick pole protruding from his mouth. He
moistened it with his saliva, and then, rather unceremoniously, inserted it
into D'Argo's puckered anus. His other hand was stroking D'Argo's cock,
gently, up and down, in rhythm with his mouth, and he matched speeds with
the finger slowly sliding in and out of the Luxan's ass. He could feel his
partner's dick get thicker and harder in his mouth, and stepped up the pace.
Pushing himself all the way down to his throat on the immense muscle, and
forcing his finger as far into D'Argo as possible, he was treated to a gush
of hot, milky liquid, as D'Argo erupted in a volcano of orgasmic bliss. The
Luxan's grip on the back of John's head had increased so much that the end
of his shaft began to penetrate John's throat, and wave after wave of fluid
poured straight down into him. He felt it's warmth as it filled him, gushing
into him, along with a torrent of moans of delight from its donor. He pulled
his head back, and continued to stroke the thick cock in his hand, milking
every last drop out of the Luxan, running his tongue from the base of the
large penis to the tip to lick off each drop. Every time he did this, a
shudder of pleasure ran through D'Argo, making his eyes roll back into his
head for a moment, and his smile to widen.
"Whatever shall I do with you, John Crichton?" D'Argo purred.
"I think the better question is what should you do to me?"
Of course, there is much more to the story, and I apologize that it's taken
so long for me to tell this much. Sadly, my human contact, the one who
transcribes this, has been working 2 full time jobs as of late, and has been
rather pressed for time, and I don't wish to make his life any harder than
it has to be. If you want, you can write him at [email protected] -- he