Work Text:
Rendezvous
Velvet black surrounds her when Elena hears the soft press of footsteps against the bedroom carpet. Her breath holds still as she lies on her side, stiff and motionless, as they draw painfully near. Eyes clamp shut and fingers grip bed sheets, knuckles as white as the cotton surrounding her lithe, prone form. She was alone until now–battling the beast of insomnia, something a one-two punch could not conquer. The time must read somewhere around three am by now. She dares not to turn and view the clock.
In her heart of hearts, she was yearning for this moment.
The presence is stealth as can be, and to anyone else’s untrained ear, their arrival may have gone unnoticed. But Elena prides herself in her abilities from her attuned senses to her lethality on the field. She is ruthless, takes no prisoners and rarely to be taken unawares. She knows how to dispose of a body, to wipe its existence from the Planet without a trace of DNA left to salvage. No friend nor foe could shake her indestructible confidence–she was a force to be reckoned with.
But now…
That confidence was nowhere to be found.
The bedside compresses behind her, the stranger taking a seat at its edge. Clothing shuffles, the release of one button, two, until a garment slides free from shoulders, arms, then discarded. The scent of his distinct herbal aromatic musk meets her and caresses every inch of her.
She knows it’s him .
The rest of his clothing follows suit; the continuous shift of the bed tells her as much. But she does not look his way—she cannot face him yet. With each dalliance she’s greeted with the same paralysis, the same doubt and fear that cripples this more than capable warrior. A woman who is able to stare death in the eye and choke it with her bare hands is thoroughly undone by the garbless man beside her.
A tremor rolls over her when he speaks.
“Look at me.” The request is soft, comforting, unusual from the daily, commanding tone in the workplace. She knows he reserves it only for her, for these moments between them, how few and far between they are.
Ordinarily, she would leap at his command, obey him unquestioningly. But every now and again, within this isolated solitude they share, she pushes those boundaries just a bit.
A small grunt against him. He’s frustrated by her disobedience. Good. She’d giggle if she could spare to breathe.
Yet, the gasp that escapes is involuntary as a hand slips beneath the barrier of the sheet, sliding ever so gently over her hip. It travels just short between her thighs, the warmth of his fingertips hovering. Still, she does not look at him, but she feels his smirk against her back.
“Elena…”
And just like that, all of her willpower dissolves.
Slowly, she rolls over to see him. Her eyes search for him, catching the highlighted outlines and angles of his face bathed within the slivers of cascading moonlight from her window. His long, dark hair flows freely and frames it, and she is suddenly aching to reach out, to run her fingers through the smooth, undisturbed tendrils. His silhouette sits erect, fully open and exposed to her, as tender deep brown eyes lock with hers through the darkness. When they meet, she notes how they glitter with excitement and anticipation. Her body responds, mirroring his sentiments with the reflection of her own.
When he leans in and claims her mouth in a gentle kiss, all of her previous fears and doubts melt away entirely, just as they always do.
It is a kiss reserved only for her.
And when their bodies finally entwine, he claims her completely. Their secret rendezvous is within the dead of night, but she relishes in the beauty of it, the beauty of him. She belongs to him right now, and she is more than satisfied.
For she knows this, all of this, is just for her.