080. Track

[Warning: Smut - toward the end]

At some point, the days had become airless. Stifling and still, the planet's movement imperceptible, as though it had slowed to a stop, little by little, so as not to alert her inhabitants.

Aerith was never a believer when it came to the ridiculous irrationality of tales of love and loss; the weeping, the woeful stories of lost sleep, the sensation of one's heart being ripped from one's chest when a certain song played on the radio. All of it seemed over-dramatic and far from genuine.

And, to a degree, she'd learned in the past month that she was right-at least, those things had never felt genuine in her past experiences. Those were things that she'd felt in some aspect or another when her previous relationships had ended, the self-indulgent catharsis of tears and stories of the better times. Zack, Cloud, Vincent... all were disasters of idolization. They were fantasies and ideals that failed to deliver what the very concept of relationships were fabled to be about. No emotional intimacy. No love. Just imprinting.

But as Aerith watched Reno walk into his office that day, a little over a month since they'd exchanged their last words, she'd never felt anything more devastatingly real in her life.

There was only numbness in this depth of loss, and it penetrated every cell in her body. The loss of a best friend, a companion that felt like it had been life-long-or should have been-until she'd pulled the plug. But this was supposed to be better for the two of them, and somewhere she knew that. They couldn't continue being terrible to each other. He couldn't be someone that she could cling to for validation, and she couldn't be the warm body that he relied on to be there night after night.

Dragging air forcibly into her lungs, Aerith slipped into the elevator and pushed the button to get to the first floor and go home. She didn't need to be at work today. Rufus would get over it. Home was her only sanctuary. Safety.

Her eyes were blank as they stared back at her in the door's reflection. At least he was okay. He was still coming to work. As long as he lived his life, she figured she could, too. She hadn't watched him long enough to read his face, however. She could only hope that he was happy enough for the both of them.

How long could someone be stubborn? In Reno's book, it was a long time. Though he was still coming to work like usual, there was definitely a difference in his stature and the way he walked. Elena was sent away from his office plenty of times after her motherly concern.

"Reno, you don't look good. I mean, you haven't slept in ages. You have dark rings under your eyes. I know because I have a fair complexion and so do you. I can tell, 'cause mine look really, really bad some days. Are you eating well? And you haven't been talking to Tseng. I know he knows something that I don't know; you know?"

With his normal nods and 'don't worry about it' speech, he shoo-ed her away with a big push out of his office followed by the slam of the door. He didn't need someone constantly telling him to eat and sleep. Shit, he wasn't five years old. Furthermore, she wanted in on the tense atmosphere that Tseng was sending out.. or he was sending out. For the most part, he kept his conversations short with the Wutaian.

He'd never before noticed that the dent in the worn mattress of his bed was fit for her body. Those nights that he rolled over and felt nothing but the coolness of the silken sheets only added to the feeling that something was missing. Denial was an ugly thing and Reno was starting to realize all that Aerith was to him. But it was also a matter of pride. Never had he imagined her leaving him. Hell, he never thought of leaving her. They had an odd relationship, but Reno wasn't used to anything else. He never had a 'normal' one.. so the abnormal ones were simply normal to him.

But when the butane had finally expired in the Zippo she'd left him, it was a sign that it had fully been far too long since he last saw her. There had been glimpses and documents with her reports on it but, for some reason, she had a knack for keeping herself out of sight when wanting to. He was thinner and his dreams mocked him with nothing but her face.

That's what he woke up to, other than the report plastered to his forehead. He was let off work early since his lack of energy was starting to cost the company. Those nights without her had led to nothing but drunken fits with a mix of narcotics, as he'd never kicked his habit for cocaine. Though usually once the after effects of giving himself a hand job had worn off, he only felt lonely in the long run. He had no desire for someone else to give him happy endings, it just wasn't what he wanted. Even if he'd indulged in such acts it only led him to think of her, which only entangled him more in sleepless nights. It just wasn't worth it.

Without even bothering to reach for his jacket, he made his way down from the elevator into the lobby area.

It was there he saw her, as if he didn't get enough of her image in his dreams. His pride didn't matter anymore. He was a mess, and he was sure Tseng didn't ask for this when telling his concerns to Aerith. It might have cost him a Turk.

"Aerith." His voice cracked and he was sure she didn't hear him fully. "Aerith, wait." This time around it was a bit more forceful as if slowly building the courage to speak how he felt.

For the first time in over a month, Aerith's heart began stuttering a familiar tattoo against her chest, a rhythm patented to the effect that sound of his voice alone had on her. She had just barely made it to the door of the lobby, but found that her legs refused to move another step.

Internally, she panicked. She couldn't talk to him. This would destroy the barrier she'd nearly killed herself building. But her name on his lips, the word breaking... her resolve to walk out the door crumbled uselessly at her feet.

With great difficulty, she arranged her features to mask her uncertainty. If anyone could detect that she was anxious, though, it would surely be him. Reno knew her face better than anyone. Reno was trained to understand body language. She hadn't let him see her face all this time for that reason. She'd just have to try twice as hard now. Slowly, she pivoted on a heel and turned to face him, completely not expecting the image that slammed into her.

Sweet fuck.

He looked a wreck. He clearly wasn't sleeping. He'd lost weight. His drug intake had likely increased, by the complexion of his skin and his slight subtle movements she caught in her peripheral vision. She knew his body just as well as he knew hers; every minuscule difference in his appearance sending a wave of shock through her and whispering blame in her ears. She'd done this. The irrational, manipulative, damaged part of her could have argued, accusing her of taking credit where it was not due, but this was something she simply knew. She'd lived it. Had she been wrong all this time? She kept her expression cool, however. She'd had a lot of practice in the past month; if they knew she was nearly the wreck she'd really been, they'd never let her touch the equipment in the lab again.

"Reno," she greeted simply, her voice smooth with forced calm. Too many eyes and ears in the lobby. Could anyone hear the lie in her voice?

With an infinitesimal nod, she gestured that he should step outside with her. Once she knew he got the message, she turned and walked out the doors.

The receptionist seemed interested in the tense way he followed her out, but everyone else couldn't care less. Aerith, it seemed, was an everyday sight to them. And though she was one of the many who saved Gaia, it was over with and everyone seemed to go on with their lives, regardless of the sacrifice she'd made for them all. On this account, he could understand what selfish human beings the world held, but overall he knew he was one of them. If he hadn't had a relationship with her, as odd as it may be, he wouldn't think anything of her. At least, the part where she'd saved the world.

Treading a few more yards away from the building to be safe before finally turning around, Aerith found she couldn't speak. She didn't trust her own voice, and beyond that she found she had no words. He was too close, his fragrance tickling her nose and deep in her throat.

Pressing his back against the slate of the ShinRa building, Reno heaved a sigh. It was now or never. It was here that he could take her in, hoping out of any shred of change in her due to their separation. She looked as wonderful as ever. Her curves were still there, even those ruby lips that always curved slightly when she was around him. Though, now, they were pursed together as if she was waiting for him to do something or say something. She wasn't going to be the first one to talk. Hell, he was the one that called her out.

"I-er..." Great work! This will be just a piece of cake if you just mutter out nothings as if you were talking to your crotch. Kicking himself to actually say something coherent, he brought his eyes on her own. It was there he could see a slight betraying of her body; she always was able to speak to him through those large emerald eyes. It was there he find the courage to speak actual words. "You've been alright?"

He came this far to ask her if she was alright? That wasn't in the plans, but being on the spot to say something was harder than he ever imagined. Reno was always one to open his mouth and talk, but this time around he was finding it so hard to form the words.

Aerith had noted his articulation seemed to be affected, too.

It was only an off-hand observation, her senses otherwise alerting her the second that his eyes scoured her figure. He was trying to read her. She shifted her weight before she could stop it, fighting not to break from his gaze in fear of betraying her inner turmoil. But that was the rub, wasn't it? Some part of her wanted him to see how messed up she was over this whole thing. And what was the motivation there? To inspire guilt? That was perhaps a remnant of the manipulative part of her that she was working so hard to rid herself of. Or was it to give him another crumb of hope that things could be made right, knowing on some subconscious level that he was just as fucked up as she was about this?

She never liked the saying about one being between a rock and a hard place. However, there was nothing better to describe her current predicament, unsure if she was holding out for a hope that she harbored foolishly-he had to be talking to her for some reason, right? Or was it to just shut the door on things once and for all, the way she probably deserved?

She swallowed, and finally dropped her eyes from him. No matter what, he was going to get the truth from her, from here on out.

"I'm still alive," she said, her grosgrain voice wrought with age far beyond her biological years. It was the truth, but she knew she was skirting around the issue. She wasn't alright, but she'd managed not to do something stupid as a result, in summation. Hesitantly, she brought her eyes back to his face. Are you alright? That seemed an absurd question, one that she no longer felt she had the right to ask. She was a bastard. "Was there... something you needed?"

Was there something you needed?

How many answers could he give to that? Tons. They were racing through his mind like a bullet in the brain. But it wasn't wound in his skull that kept throbbing; it was as if he was seared in the heart. It had been like this for a good number of weeks now. And at first he thought it was just a bad case of heartburn. Fuck, who was he kidding? Could he honestly go day by day wondering where she's sleeping?

Biting his lip he nodded his head, his words failing him again. "Yeah, there is. I want... I want to be with you."

The answer in his head, the one he was repeating over and over, didn't come out like he wanted to. There was a sense of poetry in his words in that head of his, but when he forced them out of his throat it was just words that a child could construct. Not an adult. So he swallowed hard and tried it again. This was big step for Reno; he was trying to tell her something he needed when all his life he'd denied it. "I miss you."

Aerith stood in stunned silence at the admission. A hundred times she must have heard him tell her he missed her, always with a smirk in his voice. The words never came off like the plea that they were now, and the gravity of it, the agony that had replaced the ever present humor, was a bittersweet experience. His pain she never wanted, but his sincerity she did.

There was no denying he had suffered sleepless nights; he knew what he was looking at in the mirror. He was afraid of mixing sleeping pills with the other narcotics swimming in his system. He wanted to wake up the next day, at least, even if it was a day full of failure on his part. Maybe if he didn't know she was still around it would have been easier. But knowing that she was in the building, even picking up traces of her perfume throughout the corridors only made it worse. It was sheer torture. How could a woman's scent bring on such images and reduce a man nearly to tears? A month ago he would have laughed at it.

"Please... I miss my friend," he continued, "I miss everything about you. I roll over and find nothing but an empty bed. A month ago I would have passed it off... but now it's hard."

He hadn't changed the sheets since she last visited. Hell, he hadn't brought anyone in his apartment since then. Even when he'd tried to replace her touch with another woman it wasn't in his apartment. Though it all it made him feel miserable in the end. He swore off all those tries by the first couple of weeks. Instead, he turned to his drugs, which only made him feel empty when the high had left.

He bit his lip again, his throat constricting as he tried to hold back a flood of emotions that were now threatening to invade. His eyes burned and he quickly glanced over his shoulder. He didn't want anyone to see him at his lowest yet. With his shoulder leaning against the wall, he brought his vision down.

"I thought... I thought I could go on without you. You left me... after all. I figured I'd get over it. But I can't." There, he said it. His lips were becoming increasingly dry from the heaving of his chest. He lifted his hand so that his knuckles pressed his lips, not hard, just something to hold him steady, and to distract him from looking up. It was as if the ground held great interest suddenly, but the truth of it all was that he couldn't look at her face.

Aerith caught the glance he'd made over his shoulder, and her protective instincts flared up as though they'd never paid heed to her intention of leaving him. Her instincts thought she was an idiot.

"Can you leave work? We should talk somewhere else." Her voice wasn't as calm as it had been just minutes ago, but she was trying. God, she was trying. "Fuck it. Just... come on." She grabbed his hand and steered him away from the building, heart pounding in her chest, threatening to break out and leave her crumpled on the ground, lifeless. Part of her had wanted to stop him halfway through his words, the pain in his voice and those eyes that had haunted her... it was too much to bear.

Reno had expected her to cross her arms, to shrug and say he had it coming. Maybe the mentality that she wouldn't take him back inspired him to imagine these actions. He was used to women telling him to leave. He was used to getting a nice slap to the face, too. So, he felt he had it coming. He deserved it after all, probably more than any other slap he'd ever received. But instead she was pulling him along the street, his feet nearly stumbling over the gutters in the process. He was still trying to get his composure under control and the quick paced walk didn't help.

Meanwhile, she was experiencing her own battle for composure. Tears welled up, tear ducts sore from weeks of trying to hold back torrential downpour, and she was breathing nearly as raggedly as he was as she let his words mull over her once more. She didn't even know where they were going, but was vaguely aware that his place wasn't that far down this path.

"Do you still have it?" she asked suddenly, quietly, her eyes trained ahead. She didn't really feel like clarifying if she meant the lighter or the plastic ring. She really just wanted to see if he had kept anything at all of hers in his effort to get on without her. And, she'd admit, she was afraid to ask if he intended to give the ring back to her in the manner she'd requested. Better not to push him too far, too fast.

The question brought an image of the candy apple red Zippo, but Reno's thoughts just as quickly veered to the plastic ring. He'd kept it in his wallet, tucked inside a small coin area for safekeeping. "Y-yeah, I do." It was a blunt response but he was focusing on his feet now.

When they turned into the familiar alley way that led to his complex, he stopped, halting her along with him. She hadn't explained where they were going, though he knew better. They were near his house, but he was still trying to get a handle on his emotions and figure out what she was trying to do. Last time he'd tried to get her to come back with him had failed. They were far away from ShinRa now, at least they could talk without being spied upon by anyone else.

"Please don't be leading me just to say goodbye again." He was almost pleading now, his eyes still burning from only minutes before. His fingers found his wallet, carefully slipping them into the pocketed area. "If you want it back, I'll give it to you." His hands weren't steady, they never really were to begin with but now it was clearly seen as he placed the ring in his palm, turning it over carefully between his thumb and pointer finger. He looked defeated, a young man aged far beyond his time. His posture was sluggish, but none of that usual swagger with it. Instead he was weak with emotions, his pride broken, and the last glimmer of hope still latching on miserably.

How could one woman do this to him? He'd never noticed before how she was the one that made his life what it was. Not just this shell that he'd become.

She sighed and faced him, blinking a few times at the ring that he held in his shaking fingers. She shook her head, but smiled a little, bringing her gaze up to his eyes. The pain there almost took her breath away again and she had to fight to keep her eyes from averting again.

"I'm not saying goodbye," she murmured. She cleared her throat, hoping her voice wouldn't sound nearly as weak as she felt. "I missed you, too. If you..." She paused to take a trembling breath. "If you mean what you said... and I believe that you did... then I can't say goodbye. Fuck, Reno, this has been the most miserable fuckin' month of my life. And I've been dead before, for Christ's sake. All I wanted was for it to be real for you, too..." She grasped his hand, curling his fingers over the ring and getting it back into his palm. "I do want this, but... when you're ready..." She peered into his eyes meaningfully. "I won't make you say it... not now. Soon, maybe, if you think that you can still..." She shook her head. "For now, though..."

And this was where she could let it all go to hell again, or she could assert what the next step would have to be. But god damn it, he was so close, and she was feeling weaker by the second as she looked at his forlorn expression.

"For now..." she said again, closing her eyes tightly, and subsequently taking a deep breath. If she was going to take them both to hell, she was going to do it the best way she knew how. She opened her eyes again and, with speed that startled even her, she leaned up to press her lips to his, and hand snaking behind his neck to hold him prisoner until he felt how much she was welcoming him back into her life.

Reno dropped his wallet. Her words rang in his head like an echo, and slowly he started to realize she was really here with him, her lips really against his. At that moment, he returned it tenfold. His body filled with energy again and he reacted by wrapping his arms around her, keeping his fist tight around that ring. He pressed her against the wall, his lips parting from hers as he moved down her neck, fully breathing her in. It seemed like ages since he'd felt her warmth against him, her hair all around. Retracting his hand from her waist, he brought it up to her face and through her hair, his lips abandoning her neck to capture her warm plush tiers once more, eagerly taking in all they had to offer.

He had to stop now or this alley would be treated with no more sanctity than the back of his Jeep. When finally pulling his body away from hers, he noted how incredibly warm he was; or she was. Lowering himself, he grabbed his wallet, placing the treasure inside before pocketing it. His breathing was ragged like before, but this time around it wasn't out of heartbreak. He really didn't have to say anything as he grabbed her hand and led her towards his apartment, this time leading her, catching a mischievous grin on Aerith's lips as she followed with no resistance.

It was amazing the difference she could see in him, as though his spirits were lifted and his physical appearance seemed to have lost many years in a few short seconds. Her legs felt boneless as he led her to his apartment, and she almost felt compelled to release a string of curses that he hadn't relieved her misery right there in the alley. Now that she'd felt him again, the distance frightened her, like he wasn't really there after all.

When they were finally at his door, he unlocked it clumsily, failing a few times with the numerous locks he had. When the door was open he knew that his apartment wasn't going to be nice and clean. He hadn't had the energy to clean up all the massive amount of damage he'd been doing to himself. It was obvious what exactly he did while she was gone; on the table were pieces of pipe and traces of cocaine on a mirror next to a few razors.

"I didn't have time to clean." He said with a sheepish smile.

The familiar scents of the place overwhelmed her, and she fought the growing lump in her throat as she breathed it in like a starved woman. It brought a watery smile to her face. "Started thinkin' I'd never see this place again..." Her eyes finally fell on what he'd been referring to, however, and she let her smile fall as she observed the remnants of what had clearly occupied him in her absence. "Was this because of me?"

His eyes traveled to the table. There really wasn't anything he could do to hide it now. He hadn't expected her to be standing in his apartment, not after this miserable month.

"Nah, I wouldn't say it's all your doin'," he replied. "Don't blame yourself for that."

She pursed her lips, turning to face him. Seeing him only made the distance much more palpable, however, and she couldn't help but press herself close, her arms winding around his thin waist. She let her eyes fall closed as she felt how much thinner he really was. The words tasted bitter on her lips, and she was terrified of ruining the sweetness of this reunion, but it needed to be said. Her eyes didn't open, and she pressed her forehead against his chest. There was a lot to forgive between the both of them. This conversation had to happen, but at least she could do it from the comfort of his arms. His home. Her home. "Can you forgive me?"

A smile graced his lips at the feel her arms around his waist and her head upon his chest. "Forgive you? For what?"

She fumbled for the words she didn't want to say, to bring the damage she'd done, enough to bring him to this, to the surface.

But Reno didn't think any of that was her fault. He'd chosen to whip out the heavy duty drugs. "Don't say that.. you helped me realize something. .. " He paused, his eyes staring onto a spot on the carpet although he was really seeing through it. It had been one hell of a month, and his performance in everything had been affected. Rufus and the Turks knew something was up. Elena made sure to question him every day. She was the prime person for gossip so he knew for sure everyone in the entire unit knew of his disposition. Tseng knew better than to toss Aerith's name about, so he said nothing and ignored the rumors that had reached his ears.

"You know I missed you.. It's pretty damn obvious." And so this was his revelation. "I don't think I can function correctly without you." His eyes met with hers once more as he brought his free hand to the side of her face, lightly caressing it before settling on her chin. Tilting her head up, he lowered himself to press fully on her lips, soft and gentle. Not the crushing rush from down in the alley. It was genuine.

The drugs had her worried, but she figured it was a conversation that could wait at this point. There were more important matters at hand. Matters like his lips pressing an unhurried kiss to hers, warm and soft. She smiled gently, taking her time with this integral token of affection. Once they parted, she let her smile widen, her eyes flickering open to drink in the sight of his aquamarine gaze. "That's all you realized, huh? That you can't function without me?"

Her grin was teasing, of course. Try as she might, she didn't think she could ever stop trying to weasel the truer confession out of him, but such was the nature of things. One day, she knew she'd need to hear it, but this was a step for him that she was proud of him for. She let her expression fall to a softer one, a hand lifting to cup the side of his face.
"I believe you," she whispered. They seemed vital words; the confirmation they both needed that they were in this together. "You've heard me tell you my feelings a few times in this relationship, but... I realize now that trust of that kind had never really been touched between us. I never... I think I never saw reason to trust that it was the same for you." She continued on quickly, not wanting the words to sadden him. "But I just needed that kind of honesty." She smiled again and pressed yet another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to let her lips brush against his as she whispered. "Are you still afraid?"

He didn't respond right away, halfway reveling in the wake of her kiss, the other half taking a moment to consider her question.

"In a way, yes." His response was just as quiet as hers. "...I'm afraid something bad is going to happen... as if somethin' knows now of my weakness." With his eyes still lowered he pulled away but grabbed her hand so that he coaxed her near his bedroom. It was the same as always, maybe a bit more clothes on the ground. "I'm afraid now that some supernatural being knows how much I need you.. and something is going to happen that takes you away from me. Happens most of the time when I get close to somethin'. I know it sounds stupid." He sat down on the bed then, his hand still wrapped around her arm. "But.. I just went with that feelin' ever since I joined the Turks. " He gave a shrug before pulling her lightly near him. "But... it's not good not tell you some things. Leaves you in the dark.. I realize that now."

His lips turned up into a smile before wrapping his arms around her waist, his face pressing just above her navel. He sat there then just taking in the smell of her, the warmth of her body, and the silkiness of her dress against his face. It was hard believing she was here, real. There was a long time when he'd figured the only physical memory he would have of her was the slight indent of her figure on his bed.

His words brought a sad smile to her lips, and she let her arms wrap around his neck to hold him against her. She leaned down to place a kiss on the top of his head, to offer her comfort.

"Just give it time," she said softly, her fingers threading through his crimson hair. Her eyes closed at the familiar feel of it, like wrapping her skin in silk. "This is the hard part, right? I'm not going anywhere. Once you see that nothing is taking me from you, that I'm still here day after day, the fear will subside."

He considered her words in silence. Maybe she was right about getting used to it. But he was sure that, for a while, there was still going to be that feeling of anxiety. Something, someday, was going to happen, he was sure of it. As much as he hated to think such things, he just couldn't help it. He was a Turk and one of the prime rules was not to get attached to anything. But he was a human being like all of them, and he had needs. He knew that even in his department they continued to have relationships, and all were taking a big risk at it, just like him.

Aerith swallowed and withdrew her fingers, then pushed his shoulders back slightly so that she could see his face. Once there, she smiled and pushed him farther until he was on his back and then she crawled up to nestle into his side her head against his shoulder. She needed the closeness; the month had been hell on her, too, no matter how well she'd hid it.

Tilting her head up, she searched his eyes. "Please don't be afraid to tell me anything. I need that. I can't breathe without it. I can't be the only one in this relationship that..." That's where she normally would have stopped her sentence, but if she was requiring honesty from him, it wasn't fair to chicken out. She cleared her throat gently. "...that feels love. And I know I left, and I know it hurt you, but... it's because I didn't know. I thought maybe, but... our conversations rarely exceed the boundaries of the bedroom, ya know?" She chuckled uneasily.

He nodded in response. He knew it was his fault for leaving her with so many questions and doubt.

"I'm sorry. I'll get better, I promise," he said softly, his eyes traveling to the popcorn ceiling. "I'm learning. I learned a lot this month..." which was true. Rolling over, he flipped himself up, his palms supporting his weight on each side of her head against the mattress. His eyebrows rose as he hovered above her on all fours, trapping her underneath him, that long ponytail sliding off his shoulder and grazing her chest. Reno hardly said 'sorry', let alone words resembling 'forgiveness'. This would be another big step for him, but he was feeling confident and his pride was lowering its defenses. "Will you forgive me?"

The answer was easy.

"If you didn't figure it out by my assault of you outside..." she smiled from beneath him, her fingers toying with the end of his ponytail, "You were forgiven the moment you said my stupid name in the lobby."

"Hey, I like your name," he protested.

Her smile faded, her teeth biting into her lower lip. "This bed... I would wake up, thinking I was here. I'd turn to watch you, to make sure you were getting restful sleep... I used to do that, you know? Like the night that you shot all that Narcan in my system... you watched me. I knew you did. I should have known then, maybe, that I was more to you than just a recurring fuck. But... after that night, it made me worry about you more. I'd watch you sleep... listen to make sure you were breathing... and then... for a whole month, I didn't know."

She took a shaking breath, a finger lifted to trace the tattoo below his left eye. "Just... kiss me now, Tiger. I need to feel you."

The words had taken a desperate edge, and she let her fingers slide back from his face to wind in his hair and pull him down to her.

He didn't hesitate to lower himself to her request. With a small tilt of his head he took her lips once more. Warmth invaded him and he felt that familiar tingle that sent straight to his spine. It only happened with her he found out. He never let his lips leave her flesh; it followed down along the neckline until reaching her chest. His eyes worked their way up to her face before lightly nibbling the flesh that bordered on her dress. With the material now in his teeth he slid it down carefully and slowly. A smirk crossed his features once he slipped the material out from the grasp of his lips. That teasing nature starting to take hold of him once again.

"Your spot on this bed was lonely," His breath warm on her flesh, his own body starting to react to the simple touch she gave him. Lifting himself upwards, despite the grasp she held on his neck, he shrugged his jacket off in a quick motion. The jacket hit the floor with a thud followed by the lost of his shoes with a few kicks. "I missed this.." He said softly, lowering himself once more and snatching a quick kiss from her. "And.. this.." his hand lowered to the curve of her side, ruffling up the material in the process.

A hiss slid past her lips as his hand drew her dress up at her side, whether or not it was intentional.

She hadn't really planned on things going this way; she figured they would talk, sort out all of their hurt feelings and maybe be forced to start slow as a result. But the proximity to him wasn't going to allow for that, as their near romp on the street had aptly informed her. After years of this, they still sparked like nothing she'd ever experienced, and he still made her forget herself with a touch. Her skin was already searing, and this suddenly seemed like the appropriate step to make; words were said, he was a big step closer, and she no longer had reason to doubt what she brought to the relationship.

This was the last step needed to affirm the closeness again. She was weary, wound up, muscles tight and her flesh long neglected and untouched. He'd been the last to touch her, and her body was now letting her now just how deprived it had felt all those weeks. With rough movements, she brought her hands between them and tore open his shirt. He was too far, she needed him against her. She didn't even care if he didn't get her completely undressed. This had to happen now.

"Reno," she half-breathed, half-groaned. The word was a plea and a praise. In case he needed it clearer, however, she lifted her knees and locked her legs around his waist, pulling him hard against her.

Her sudden reaction surprised him. And here he was taking his time. There was no way he didn't like it however. Those nights where she took charge always sent him into overdrive. A sharp jolt hit him right in the groin, it had been a long time since he'd been aroused by someone other than the cheap porno flicks he watched late into the night alone. His shirt was now roughly open, his chest pressed against her body as he fed his urge to kiss her hard on the lips. This wasn't just because he had an urge, a lustful ambition, this was happening because he honestly missed her. Sex for him was a high, but when it was with her it was a sense of being whole. Like he'd told her, his world seemed to function around her.

While pressing into her he brought his hand to the front of her dress and, with a few fumbles, he was able to get most of the buttons off. His hand eagerly sought inside, cupping the soft mound of her breast. His lips were once more busy with her neck before searching her mouth once more. By now his arousal was constricted beneath his pants, all the more reason to crush up against her, eliciting a groan from her throat. His free hand had been wrapped around her frame, holding her to him as he pressed down upon her. All that was heard was the shuffling of the material on their bodies and the ragged breathing that now threatened him.

Her pale fingers made a hurried trail down his abdomen and to the belt at his waist. She might have been temporarily celibate, but this was a practice she'd never easily forget. With a few smooth motions, he was completely undone, despite that she'd had to begrudgingly separate from him momentarily to do so. She managed to toe her boots off with an unceremonious thump on the floor, and then her hands, her thighs, her feet- every part of her within range was working to shed his remaining clothing from him.

Quickly, she made the same effort to peel the remaining wisp of satin off her body that obstructed him, despite the fact that her dress was still clinging on her shoulders. Partially, at least. It was detail she didn't care to remedy at this point.

"Now, Reno, please, please..." she whimpered, grasping him in her hand and guiding him to the slick heat. "Need you. Please."

He didn't tease her this time; instead he slipped inside her slick walls.

She'd felt no shame in her words, however pleading they were. She felt no inhibition with lifting her hips to draw him inside as far as she could from her position. He knew the dance between them as well as she did, and all the dynamic that composed it. She needed to feel his need.

She was already so warm, the inner fire inside swelling up until he felt her release without even being fully in, her muscles quivering in rapid waves just as he'd barely inched inside.

"Oh, fuck..." She rasped out, grinned in spite of herself, knowing he'd felt it, too. But she wanted more. Her fingers, one hand grasping his hair, the other clawing at his hip, attested to it.

With those muscles contracting around him he shoved inside further, riding out her orgasm as his hips started their grinding. He fell on top of her then, the warmth and constriction overriding any other strength he had in him. However, his hips never stopped their thrusting as he kept a constant movement, the supple skin folding back all due to the tight walls around him. He let out a groan while she quivered underneath him, feeling her draw taut again and knowing she would be there again in seconds, her sharp breaths closer and closer together.

He was riding her hard now, the sound of skin hitting skin filled the air as his breathing was more rapid, gasping at points. Sweat started to collect around his forehead and temples he could feel the intense pressure escalating to the tip of his manhood, the walls she possessed seemed to grip him impossibly tighter, and with a few hard thrusts into her, he felt his own release. It was a long and intense release; he literally could feel his seed explode inside her, filling her as it continued to pump and constrict.

He let out a long strained groan pressing his body against her more then as he tried to regain his breathing ritual. Whispers escaped through his lips in words of "fuck" and "holy fuck", his brain swimming in total ecstasy. The whole experience reminded him of when he first was able to penetrate her inner fire, the day she'd permitted him to despite her status with another. That had been one intense fuck.

A low, sultry laugh interrupted his whispered curses, her arms wrapping around him as he panted against her.

"You did miss me," she breathed, a crooked grin on her lips. "I'm one to talk... I've never come twice in such a short span of time before."

She twisted her head a bit to find his face, planting kisses along his jaw, down to his chin, then settling on his lips. She kept the contact brief, as they were both still fairly out of breath. Then without warning, she tightened her thighs around him and flipped them over, pushing Reno firmly onto his back, an 'oof' emitting from his mouth, pressed against the coolness of the sheets.

Lazily, he lifted his eyelids to watch her sit up peel off whatever was left hanging onto her frame.

With a long sigh, she combed a hand through her brown locks, twisting it to drape over one shoulder and let the cool air touch her neck. "I remember this view," she said, tilting her head to regard him. "I had wings painted on my back, it was raining... you were just as deep inside..."

She grinned darkly, then finally separated her body from his with a quick hiss through her teeth, to which he responded in kind, briefly closing his eyes. Her body stretched out on her stomach beside him, her eyes trained on his as his lids slowly opened back up. "You remember?"

Of course, she was giving him a show of the tattoos on her back, the markings she couldn't bring herself to see the past month. Not that she could ever see them all that easily to begin with.

A lazy smirk spread across his face, revealing a row of teeth before nodding.

"Yeah.." He said in a whisper, though clearing his throat to make way for a stronger voice. His arm stretched out and settled underneath his damp neck, chest still rising and falling. "How can I forget? That was one of the most memorable things I've done.. even if it was just outside on the balcony. Oh.. and those wings you showed me for a gift. You avoided any contact from me for like .. a week? Even then I thought that was torture. Made me insanely jealous to think that someone might be touchin' you instead of me.. " Of course, those wings were healing on her back. She just wanted to make sure they weren't overly tender for him to see them. That night was another remarkable one.

"I think that should have been a sign." He mused over that week, and then the whole month of separation. "… we certainly have golden moments." He was happy he could share such memories with her, the only thing he truly enjoyed in his life. Other good memories only went back to accomplishing missions, or maybe a nice bar fight with his partners.

Those were the only memories he possessed the made him happy to be a Turk. But now he knew... she made him happy to be a person.