miss_prince (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
miss_prince) wrote2008-12-15 12:23 am
miss_prince) wrote2008-12-15 12:23 am
(no subject)
Title: Water and Fire
Pairing: Lana/Iris
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: More digging to be done. Stupid faulty memory.
I'm not a strong woman; I never have been. I try the best I can -- to do what's right, to help my loved ones and keep them safe -- but some days… Some days it's just too much. I lived a quiet, isolated life for a long time, and in the city, some days it just hits me: how fragile I am -- how small, when people, problems, the universe all loom up around me, and I feel like I could break apart at any moment, shatter into a billion sparkles of dust.
It was one of those days. I let the hot water rush over me, the restless rhythm on my skin drowning out the outside world, holding me together. Just a long day, and an old sense of helplessness. I ran my fingers slowly through long, dark hair, removing the last traces of shampoo, and took a deep breath of steam.
A distant sound, muffled into near inaudibility by the walls and the splash of the shower… but then more – the sound of a presence, the creak of floorboards in the hall, soft, tuneless humming. She was home early.
It wasn't long before the bathroom door opened, just a little, but enough to send a draft swishing through the room as the steam rushed to escape. I could see her silhouette, muted and distorted by the shower curtain, leaning against the doorframe.
"Iris?" She asked, and the sound of her voice stirred up all of the emotion I had been keeping at bay.
"Lana," I whispered back helplessly.
She understood. Lana stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and began to shed her clothes. Through the curtain I watched her disrobe, an impressionist painting set into graceful motion. And then the curtain was drawn back, and she stepped into the shower, arms circling my waist and pulling me close against her cool skin. I held tightly to her shoulders, pressing my face into the crook of her neck, drinking in the solidness of her presence, grounding myself as the water washed over us both.
One of her hands began to stroke gently through my hair, slow and deliberate, the water assisting the smooth glide of her fingers. I leaned up to kiss her, and she kissed back, just as slow and deliberate; my eyes closed in pleasure, and hot embers began to burn in the pit of my stomach. Her free hand traveled up, fingertips against my spine; traced down my side, counting ribs, detouring across my stomach with the flat of her palm; stroked against my thigh, teasing and promising, fanning the embers into flame with such ease.
I slid one hand between us, slipping toward the junction of her thighs… But she caught my hand, pulled it back, guided it back to her shoulder. My eyes opened in confusion. Lana smiled against my lips, and she wrapped her arms low around me and lifted. I broke away and gasped sharply as my heat-flushed skin pressed against the cold tile. I clung to her neck helplessly as she lowered me onto her thigh, hands moving to firmly grip my hips.
She paused for a moment to let me get my bearings, and then slowly, achingly slowly, her hands guided my hips forward… then back… forward… back… gliding against the slick skin of her thigh. I threw my head back and moaned, and Lana kissed the exposed skin hungrily, tracing droplets down my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone.
The flame inside me was slowly stoked into a blaze, and I ached for more, but Lana's hands firmly kept my hips moving at her pace: forward… back… forward… back… Water pooled between us where we were joined, ran in rivulets down our torsos, left our hair clinging to ourselves and each other. Still Lana kept a slow, steady rhythm: forward… back… forward… back… The blaze towered into an inferno, until I was sure I must find release or burn from the inside out.
"Please," I begged -- a hoarse, desperate cry. And Lana obliged, finally moving faster, increasing the friction between our wet skin… And I burned, a sudden, inexorable nova, from the inside out, my whole body blazing with white heat.
The rush of water slowly doused the flame, brought me gently back to the ground. Lana supported me, cradled me as I slumped against her, spent. And everything was right again – because even if the universe loomed around me, even if I was helpless, Lana could take control. Lana would take care of me. And whenever she needed it, I would take care of her, too.
"Thank you," I murmured against her chest.
She kissed my forehead tenderly. She understood. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
And we remained, embracing within the rhythm of the warm water, for a long while.
Pairing: Lana/Iris
Rating: NC-17
Prompt: More digging to be done. Stupid faulty memory.
I'm not a strong woman; I never have been. I try the best I can -- to do what's right, to help my loved ones and keep them safe -- but some days… Some days it's just too much. I lived a quiet, isolated life for a long time, and in the city, some days it just hits me: how fragile I am -- how small, when people, problems, the universe all loom up around me, and I feel like I could break apart at any moment, shatter into a billion sparkles of dust.
It was one of those days. I let the hot water rush over me, the restless rhythm on my skin drowning out the outside world, holding me together. Just a long day, and an old sense of helplessness. I ran my fingers slowly through long, dark hair, removing the last traces of shampoo, and took a deep breath of steam.
A distant sound, muffled into near inaudibility by the walls and the splash of the shower… but then more – the sound of a presence, the creak of floorboards in the hall, soft, tuneless humming. She was home early.
It wasn't long before the bathroom door opened, just a little, but enough to send a draft swishing through the room as the steam rushed to escape. I could see her silhouette, muted and distorted by the shower curtain, leaning against the doorframe.
"Iris?" She asked, and the sound of her voice stirred up all of the emotion I had been keeping at bay.
"Lana," I whispered back helplessly.
She understood. Lana stepped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her, and began to shed her clothes. Through the curtain I watched her disrobe, an impressionist painting set into graceful motion. And then the curtain was drawn back, and she stepped into the shower, arms circling my waist and pulling me close against her cool skin. I held tightly to her shoulders, pressing my face into the crook of her neck, drinking in the solidness of her presence, grounding myself as the water washed over us both.
One of her hands began to stroke gently through my hair, slow and deliberate, the water assisting the smooth glide of her fingers. I leaned up to kiss her, and she kissed back, just as slow and deliberate; my eyes closed in pleasure, and hot embers began to burn in the pit of my stomach. Her free hand traveled up, fingertips against my spine; traced down my side, counting ribs, detouring across my stomach with the flat of her palm; stroked against my thigh, teasing and promising, fanning the embers into flame with such ease.
I slid one hand between us, slipping toward the junction of her thighs… But she caught my hand, pulled it back, guided it back to her shoulder. My eyes opened in confusion. Lana smiled against my lips, and she wrapped her arms low around me and lifted. I broke away and gasped sharply as my heat-flushed skin pressed against the cold tile. I clung to her neck helplessly as she lowered me onto her thigh, hands moving to firmly grip my hips.
She paused for a moment to let me get my bearings, and then slowly, achingly slowly, her hands guided my hips forward… then back… forward… back… gliding against the slick skin of her thigh. I threw my head back and moaned, and Lana kissed the exposed skin hungrily, tracing droplets down my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone.
The flame inside me was slowly stoked into a blaze, and I ached for more, but Lana's hands firmly kept my hips moving at her pace: forward… back… forward… back… Water pooled between us where we were joined, ran in rivulets down our torsos, left our hair clinging to ourselves and each other. Still Lana kept a slow, steady rhythm: forward… back… forward… back… The blaze towered into an inferno, until I was sure I must find release or burn from the inside out.
"Please," I begged -- a hoarse, desperate cry. And Lana obliged, finally moving faster, increasing the friction between our wet skin… And I burned, a sudden, inexorable nova, from the inside out, my whole body blazing with white heat.
The rush of water slowly doused the flame, brought me gently back to the ground. Lana supported me, cradled me as I slumped against her, spent. And everything was right again – because even if the universe loomed around me, even if I was helpless, Lana could take control. Lana would take care of me. And whenever she needed it, I would take care of her, too.
"Thank you," I murmured against her chest.
She kissed my forehead tenderly. She understood. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
And we remained, embracing within the rhythm of the warm water, for a long while.