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"I feel obligated to inform you that this is a bad idea," Ramattra said. He was laying flat against the bed, her hips straddling his. Hana’s idea, naturally.
For her part, Hana rolled her eyes. "When has that ever stopped me?" She was struggling to pull her top over her arm splint, and he reached up, carefully helping maneuver the white tank top over her head. She flashed him a grateful smile, and he watched her, for a moment, allowing himself the privilege of observation. It was more skin than he'd even seen of her, pale and dotted with scars. More skin than he'd seen of anyone. It made the systems in his chest thrum in ways he was not going to dissect right now.
She was looking down at him, a little smile there, approval mixed with something warmer. She was not being shy about this, about what she wanted. It made her very attractive.
"Since you're feeling helpful," she said, slower and with more intent, moving closer. "Help me with the rest?"
She was wearing a simple set of underwear, athletic and well suited for maintenance. Easy to put on, easy to take off. She certainly didn't need his assistance— she just wanted his hands on her.
He reached around to help her with the clasp. A small, delicate thing that would be far easier to tear off. He unclasped it and helped pull it around her shoulders, discarding it on the floor with her top and jumpsuit. The underwear followed shortly after.
"You will need to instruct me on how this goes," he said. It was easier to lay it out now, even though he'd agreed to the idea, despite all the warnings. "I am... deeply unfamiliar with this aspect of intimacy."
"That's okay," Hana said with a shrug, settling back down on top of him. "That's the easy part, actually. What do you want to do?"
Ramattra watched her again for another long moment, systems whirring, every wire burning hot and alive within him. Gaze running over her face, that slight, catlike interest. A sliver of sunlight over her chest, her breasts.
"I want to touch you," he says. Slowly, letting himself feel out the words. He eased up onto an elbow, lifted his free hand to ghost it over her collarbone, down her chest. She shivered beneath his hand. "I want... you to touch me. I’m not certain how yet."
"Alright," Hana said, a little breathy. "See? You're getting the hang of it. Go lower. Just, uh, one finger for now, probably."
He noted each little reaction, followed her slight shivers as he led his hand down lower. She gasped when he found her entrance, running a cold digit along the skin there. Each murmured approval, the way she moved her body and guided him to where she wanted him. He felt strange, like something within his chest would spark into flame, a thousand tiny combustions. A hunger he couldn’t put a name to.
"Hana," Ramattra said, voice a low, heady rumble. "What do you want?"
She shifted her weight, if only to garner a little friction between her and where he rubbed against her entrance. "I want you to get moving, for starters," she said. That push and pull he was so familiar with on the battlefield. He hummed knowingly, but he obliged, pressing into her slowly until they slotted together.
”Okay,” she exhaled, a furrow in her brow and a hot flush to her cheeks. “Okay, give me a second, you’re big.”
“From what I recall, that is a fact you found distinctly attractive,” he said, crooking his finger slightly and reveling in the way she squirmed.
”It is. Do you need me to say it?” She started to move, slow movements that became faster, finding a rhythm that worked for her.
“No,” he said, mostly because he did not want to find out how embarrassingly that would affect him. He started to move his hand up into her, meeting her as she bore down upon him, and she groaned between her teeth, not pained but deeply pleased.
“Good boy,” she sighed, shifting a hand over his chest to brace for better leverage, and. Well. Wasn’t that something. Steam hissed out from his processor, a rush of heat, a strange noise rippling through him as he lurched upwards.
She grinned, wicked in her victory, incandescent. “Well, isn’t that interesting.”
“Shut up,” he growled, without any real heat. She squeezed around him and he crooked his finger again into the place she seemed to enjoy, letting the vibration run through him, through her.
“You’ll have to work harder for that,” she said, all taunt, dark and flinty and irresistible. She ran a hand over his chest plate again, rocking into him. “Open up.”
He shifted open his chest plates for her, steam whirring out from within, a hiss of heat. Through the concentrated furrow of her brow, she laughed, not unkindly but perhaps with a bit of surprise, running her hands across his shoulders before bracing with her injured arm in a way that surely strained the splint as she reached in with the other.
His inner wiring, already hot and sensitive, sparked beneath her touch. She wrapped a hand around the thick cords next to his processor and tugged, and he surged upwards, pressing into her with a low, baritone growl. Another rush of steam flushed out from the ports along his shoulders, his spine. It was nothing he'd ever felt before. Nothing he'd ever thought himself capable of feeling.
"Your thumb," Hana said, more of an exhale of breath than words, perspiration dripping down her jaw. "Could you— up, just a little—"
He shifted his thumb upwards along the soft, wet opening of skin until her breath caught, her spine arching.
"Like that?" he asked.
Her eyelids fluttered, fingers dancing along cool steel. "Yes," she sighed, tilting her head back. "Just like that."
Her fingers tugged again, and he rumbled with pleasure, the vibration arcing up into her. He felt alive. The world narrowed to a single point, the singularity of the four walls around them.
She was quiet when it happened, mouth parted, the sun in her hair. Ramattra felt the full-body shudder run through her, felt her tighten around his fingers. Blunt fingernails scraped against the side of his processor and he tumbled after her, vision shorting, body moving in a way he didn't know it could. He should have hated the loss of control, but he chased it instead, that hot-spark that shot through him.
"Good?" Hana asked after a moment with another small, breathy laugh. She was radiant like this, above him, eyes warm and bright. He struggled to find his voice for more reasons than one as he extricated his hand from her and sat up.
"Yes," he said. Good was too short of a word to encompass how he felt right now. How he felt about her. "It was... amenable."
"Good," Hana said, moving off of him with a wince, a hand coming up to cradle her injured arm. "Because I think I dislocated my shoulder again."
"Hana," he said, not entirely sure where he was going with that thought but needing to express his exasperation somehow.
"Ramattra," she said, mocking his tone as she slipped off the bed to retrieve her underwear and a pair of shorts. "I knew the risks."
“That never seems to stop you.”
“Hey, at least my life stays interesting.”
He made a noise of dissent. “That is one word for it.” It did raise a pertinent question, though. “What happens now?”
"I'm gonna go clean up," Hana said, turning to look up at him. "Are you staying for the morning?”
He thought about that for a moment. He’d already stayed the night; there was no telling what else was waiting for him if he stayed. It couldn’t be a good idea. It wasn’t, but none of this had been. "Would you like me to?" he asked, because it was easier if the choice was out of his hands.
She rolled her good shoulder in a shrug. "If you want to. You do have a rebellion to run."
He did, but those details seemed so insignificant right now in her bedroom with the remnants of her presence still on his fingers. Besides, her answer was as much a non-answer as anything. She was giving him an out in a way that wouldn’t sting, as if anything after this could go back to the way it was before. He didn’t know how he possibly could, knowing the way she felt around him. The way she made him feel.
"You need to set your shoulder," he said slowly. Careful intent, so she didn’t miss it, because he couldn’t say anything as dangerous as what he was feeling aloud. "I need to clean up. Both will go faster with two. So, I will stay. For a time."
Hana smirked, hair shifting over her shoulder with the teasing tilt of her head.
“You could join me in the shower,” she said. “Kill two birds with one stone. You’re all about efficiency, right?”
From anyone else it would be an insult. From her, she was just taunting him, goading him into what she wanted, that flirtatious insinuation. It was more attractive than anyone had any right to be post-coitus with a dislocated shoulder and a broken elbow.
”You are insufferable,” he said. Too soft, too honest. Her smile widened, and she stepped in to press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw before turning to lead him toward the bathroom. He luxuriated in the open expanse of her back, wiry muscle and scar tissue.
”I know,” she said, “but it's nice of you to notice.”
He followed her inside, catching her before she could get far and pinning her against the counter, and she met him with a grin like she’d expected this, and he stopped worrying so much about time, about feelings, about parsing any of that out right now. He stopped thinking anything at all as he kissed her into the cold marble, hands working her open again. If all he had was this one moment, he was going to exist in it, drag it out as long as he could, knowing only that he would miss her tomorrow.