Work Text:
Timeline: Wired, part 2 (following after “Reaction”, previous chapter)
Challenge: Yield
You follow him out onto the deck of the B-Squad Rangers. You idly note that B-Squad has it pretty good…your own commons room, your own training quarters, your own deck overlooking a pretty decent view of the city. Closing the door behind you, you watch him pace along the railing, before he settles down and leans against it, eyes out over the city you’ve both sworn to protect.
You push away from the wall, concern warring with anger, and you’re not sure which will win. One will, and you’re partially afraid of the results. You rest a hand on his shoulder, wincing at the reacting flinch and the taunt muscles. You rest your head between his shoulder blades, feeling him slowly relax, slowly unwind from the day…at this point, from the week. It’s been stressful on you both, but you have a music outlet...he doesn’t.
Eventually his hand reaches for yours, and he tugs you around in front of him, and you naturally settle into each other…his shoulder against the corner post, his chest firm against your back, your arms covering his around your waist, fingers interlocked. It’s a compromise…if either of you need to move quickly, you’re in trouble, but it’s better than nothing. There’s no need for words as you both watch the sun set against the horizon, the sky painted in blood red, vivid orange and golden yellow, before muting into the dark blue and purple of the night. Apology, forgiveness, and acceptance occur in a breath, and somewhere, you know that all is right with the world. But here, in this tiny world that seems to form when you two are together, something isn’t quite right. The air seems to hold it’s breath in anticipation, and you shiver slightly.
He glances at you, eyes questioning, and you dismiss his concern. You smile as his eyes soften, warning you of his intents. You can’t help but feel complete as his lips press against yours, mouth working softly against yours. You breathe in sync with the other, and as your hand rests against his chest, a part of your mind idly realizes that your hearts beat as one as well.
You yield to him for a moment, grant him access, and feel your knees begin to buckle. His arm locks around your waist, keeping you supported, but also closer to him, and you feel a hunger rise between the two of you. The need for air breaks you apart for a second, and you see the question in his eyes. You weigh the choices for a moment, a nanosecond of time, before meeting his gaze again, yielding. As the last of the light fades, the stars begin to emerge, but there’s no one to see them. Only the sound of a lock clicking into place in the night.
You can’t help but yield to him.