Unreality [DawnsLight]

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Flinne held Aria's hand, his grip firm and unwavering. He hadn't told her about the last moments in his reality, because he'd been ashamed. He'd broken beneath the weight of his imminent unmaking, and he'd had everything stripped form him. But he couldn't spare his pride in the council. He couldn't shove his shame into a corner, and pretend it had never transpired. He bore it as he bore nearly everything else. With a stern sense of solemnity.

At Young's question, he pulled his eyes away from the monitors. "I'm not certain about anything. This invasion is different than the unmaking of my reality." He said. "Faster. Like an attack, rather than an... Absorption. It felt almost like it was trying to suck our reality dry." He paused, considering the situation quietly. "When the sun disappeared, the shadows redoubled in numbers in my world. I don't know if they repopulated, or if more were moved in, but in any event the numbers increased. By the time my second shadow pulled itself from the ground, there was no light left in the world."

He turned his eyes to his lover, and squeezed her hand, before returning his gaze to the collected scientific minds. "It's slim, but it's something. Maybe we can find out why this is different from the last time."

He rolled his shoulders uncomfortably. "We need to find out more about all this. And I dare say we need to find out more about how I got here. I'm willing to subject myself to any tests you may need to run, so long as it doesn't interfere with my ability to-" Flinne wanted to say 'protect Aria', but he thought better of it. The pause was brief, but it was there. "Fight." He finished.
 
Young looked grim at this, and pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding off a headache. Aria took in the faces around the room, lingering on Flinne's as he offered himself up for testing. There was a pause there in his speech and she wondered what he was going to say initially. She slipped an arm around his hips, drawing him closer.

"We've got a lot to think about here, and we're all obviously tired. Tired minds make mistakes and we just can't afford those right now; there's really nothing that we can do this late anyway." Aria spoke softly, addressing them all. Jared and Madeline looked up from where they were comparing notes on Flinne's account and reports from Portland and New York. At last, Madeline stood upright and stretched, a kind smile lighting her face. "She's got a point. I can barely at two and two right now, much less work out equations without some ungodly margin of error."

The tall blond stepped away and moved towards the couple holding on to one another as if afraid to break contact. She rested a hand on Aria's shoulder lightly, smiling warmly at the woman. "You two go get some rest, clean up, do whatever you need to do after traveling. In the morning I'll meet you at the university; we can run some tests and you won't have to trek all the way out here."

Aria nodded, smiling back at the woman who was fast becoming a friend and murmuring a thanks. Madeline turned her gaze on Flinne; it was no less kind but a little cooler than it had been when gazing at Aria. "I'm going to need you to fast until we can get some blood drawn. Eat tonight, but nothing tomorrow. I'm going to subject you to the full battery, so be prepared."

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They spoke tired, absent-minded goodbyes before leaving the cracked lot of the observatory. Aria was so tired she could hardly remember the drive to the hotel but was thankful for the warm presence of Flinne's hand upon her bare knee. At the front desk, her mind was muddled as she and Flinne checked in and made their way through empty halls to their room. The bedside alarm clock displayed the time in red: 3:40 am.

Aria's head was spinning with the revelations of the day, and she found herself almost too tired to worry about anything other than sleep. Almost.

Changing for bed, she found herself watching her Survivor move about the room. True, it wasn't often that she could normally tear her eyes from him, but she felt the need to say something after hearing him talk about his ordeal. "Flinne. I'm sorry. That I couldn't bring you out of that sooner," she paused and slipped beneath the stuff white hotel sheets. "And for thinking you were a ghost in my dream. I didn't even realize that it was really you. I'm so sorry."
 
Flinne glanced at his lover. She was right, of course. And they certainly couldn't afford mistakes. Flinne could have functioned on little to no sleep if he'd had to. He'd done it before. But that was before he'd been responsible for protecting something. Somehow, he felt that saving this world was becoming his responsibility. A way to make up for the last existence he'd failed to save. The thought wasn't rational, and it wasn't fair. Not to him, and not to Aria. Even so, it didn't change the way he felt.

He was grateful for Aria when she gave him the support of an arm around his waist. He stiffened when the beautiful blonde approached, and nodded tersely at his directions. "Yes ma'am." He said, briskly.

He stayed quiet all through the goodbyes, and only left Aria's side to fetch the food his stomach was rumbling for. He ate it in the car on the way back, quiet as ever. When they got back into the room, he was feeling bone-tired. The kind of exhaustion that just doesn't happen outside of a marathon, or severe personal stress. Gingerly, he peeled his shirt up and over his head. The bandage was holding sufficiently on his shoulder, and the wound hadn't bled through yet.

He kicked off his shoes, and doffed his pants. His socks followed, and he -wearily- approached the bed as Aria began to speak. He pulled back his own side of the covers, and scooted himself in ungracefully. He'd thought he might miss Aria's bed, but he found that it didn't matter. He'd have slept on a rock if Aria were there beside him, and he'd have smiled for it.

His smile did come back, tired though it was. "You don't need to apologize, Aria." He said, quietly. "You brought me out. Just not when we meant to bring me out."

He slipped an arm about her waist, and pulled her close. He pressed a brief kiss to her forehead. He was quiet for a moment, his face just inches from Aria's own. His lips parted gently, and he began to sing, softly. His voice was sweet and clear, and his breath was a feather's brush against his lover's cheek.

"I've been alone with you inside my mind,
and in my dreams I've kissed your lips a thousand times.
Sometimes I feel you pass outside my door.
Hello, is it me you're looking for?

I can see it in your eyes,
I can see it in your smile.
You're all I've ever wanted,
and my arms are open wide.

'Cuz you know just what to say,
and you know just what to do.
And I want to tell you so much;
I love you."
 
Flinne's reassurances helped to ease Aria's mind, though not quite so much as the tired but genuine smile that accompanied them. Her own sleepy smile crossed her face when they both slipped between the sheets and he pulled her close. Gone was the heady anticipation that had led to their lovemaking the night before; they were both too exhausted for that. Instead, Aria found herself content with the quiet and comfortable intimacy that had replaced it. She reached up to cup his cheek in her hand as she gazed into his strange, wonderful green eyes. She nearly kissed him before it looked like he was about to speak and was instantly glad that she hadn't, his voice so lovely that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

She found herself mouthing the words as he sung them, not daring to break the spell of his rich voice. As the last words passed over his lips, she found that her breath caught in her throat. Trembling fingers twined with his as she held his hands to her fluttering heart. She wasn't ready yet, and he might not have been able to say it outright, but she wanted to show him that it meant all the world to her to hear those words. She pressed her lips to his with a careful slowness before moving to nestle more fully against him.

"That was beautiful. Thank you Flinne, goodnight."
_______________________________________________________________________________________

Morning came too soon, and with it the troubles set aside during the night. News reports of the shadow-beast in Manhattan stated that it had not moved since it was formed, however others like it had cropped up across the globe. There were forty that had been accounted for so far.

Madeline met Aria and Flinne in the sunny main lobby of one of the campus' many research centers. This one in particular was dedicated to medical and biological study; as she led them through a twisting maze of corridors and doorways, Madeline also explained the tests she would be running on the Survivor.

"Like I said last night, it's going to be the full battery: standard physical, stress test, MRI scan, blood screen, hair and tissue, even ENT just to be thorough, as well as an eye exam to see what those babies are like," she grinned. The supermodel-physicist was decked out in her lab coat, with a ruffled blue blouse and black pencil skirt beneath. She looked like someone's image of a sexy scientist for a music video with her long blond hair coiled in a bun atop her head. Heels clicked against the linoleum as she walked. Aria felt somewhat jealous and more than a little inadequate in her jeans and t-shirt.

The sterile-white testing suite they arrived at was state-of-the-art and came staffed with a small army of interns. Madeline gestured proudly, her face alight with the prospect of new data. "Come in and get comfortable, it's going to be a long day."
 
Flinne had thought the song was appropriate, considering their brief history. What he hadn't anticipated was that the lyrics ventured into alien territory, of uncertainty. He hadn't planned to tell Aria that he loved her. It wasn't until he stopped singing that he realized what he'd said. And -he found- it was true. It didn't matter whether or not Aria said the same. She wasn't pulling away. She wasn't slapping him. And by the way her lips pressed firmly against his own, she didn't even seem the slightest bit upset.

"Good night, Aria." He murmured, his luminous green eyes sliding closed peacefully. Somehow, his mind felt clear of troubles. Tomorrow, he'd save the world. Tomorrow.

_____________________________________________________________

Flinne only gave a precursory glance at the news reports, before going about the tasks that the morning required. From shower to shave, he had to keep himself from rushing. The scientists would meet them when they'd meet them.

His stomach rumbled along the way to the campus grounds, and he sorely wished that testing involved the rate at which he could consume a steak. Or a bowl of stew. He spent the majority of the ride -short though it may have been- in silence. He didn't look as grim as someone facing the end of the world might be expected to look. He looked... Determined.

He tried to keep track of the rout they took through the building, but he could only wager even odds as to whether or not he'd be able to leave the establishment on his own in a timely fashion. For all of Madeline's loveliness, he managed to keep his glances at her admirable figure to a minimum. She was pretty to look at, certainly, but Flinne didn't feel any particular desire for her.

He tried not to rubberneck as they moved through the campus, but without staring at their surroundings, and without staring at the scientist escorting them, Flinne had very few places to rest his eyes. When they came to a stop in the testing suite, Flinne felt his shoulders go tight. He didn't like hospitals, and this felt like nothing quite so much as it did like a hospital. "Let's do this," He said.

______________________________________________________________________

The testing proved interesting, to say the least. As it turned out, Flinne was oh-so-slightly radioactive. Or rather, more radioactive than the average human body. Some of the tests suggested that it may have been residual radiation leftover from eating dream food, and dimensional hopping. His eyes in particular had a higher radioactive signal, although the levels were still low enough to be benign. Too, his chemical signature was faintly different than the average human body.

The radiation about his eyes wasn't the source of the glow, however. A compound by the name of luciferin was found readily throughout his body, which -when exposed to oxygen, and aided by an enzyme called luciferase- glowed. It was a compound often found in deep sea creatures such as anglers, and some bioluminescent jellyfish.

Apart from these particular deviations from the normal human anatomy, he appeared to be a perfectly normal man. But Flinne wasn't the only subject upon which tests needed to be run. Humanity still needed a weapon against the shadows.
 
Across campus, tests were being run indeed. It had been possible for researchers to cut around a shadow, taking it and the portion of low stone wall that apparently cast it back to the lab in order to study it. The way that light moved around such a thing was disorienting; no matter the source the shadow remained constant, unwavering and unshifting despite efforts to disturb it.

Test after test was performed, multiple times with slight variation in order to achieve a worthwhile pool of data even if the results were ultimately inconclusive. Some discoveries were made: animal proteins broke down the quickest when exposed, but it seemed that they lasted marginally longer when covered by synthetic fibers.

Since white light itself had no effect on the shadows, all different spectrums were isolated and shone upon it. It was noted that intense ultraviolet seemed to fade the shadow; it became wan and pale, it's absorption rate declining after exposure. Yet it still remained, defiantly jutting into the light source instead of away.

Chemicals were tested: acids and bases in varying degrees of PH, even water was thrown on it to no effect. Organic and synthetic compounds were sprayed on, and no notable effect on the shade was seen. Heat, electricity, cold, EMP- everything was tried and retried exhaustively. And still the shadow sat. Unchanged and mocking.
__________________________________________________________________________________________

Aria picked at her salad, moving the various little bits around to look like she had eaten. Not that she wasn't hungry, but her stomach was in knots thinking about the results of Flinne's testing. Madeline had looked at him like a hungry tiger eyeing a particularly juicy piece of meat; it was a little scary to see the beautiful woman's face like that. Aria suppressed a shiver at just what may have been running through the scientist's mind.

After a few questions about the bioluminescence that Flinne exhibited as well as some reassurances that his radiation levels were perfectly safe, they had been encouraged to leave and get a bite to eat while the gathered data was pored over. Despite knowing that there was nothing she was able to do, Aria felt frustrated. Like there was something she should be able to do, if she were just persistent enough to find it. She glanced up and flashed a smile at her lover, setting her fork down in order to rest her chin on her hands. Thoughts of his quiet serenade had kept her heart tripping and a blush on her cheeks all day. It was perhaps the single most romantic thing ever done for her.

"You must have been starving. Feeling better now?" Aria asked, taking in the sight of the incredible man seated across from her with a small smile on her full lips.
 
Flinne bore the tests with as good a grace as a man in his position could have been expected to. Blood tests, cheek swabs, urine samples, and more tests that he'd been sure medical television shows had made up for ratings. Flinne didn't fuss. He didn't flail, or pout, although every time a needle came out he fixed it with a glower that could have peeled paint.

When all was said and done, he found that his stomach was making a serious effort to gnaw it's way through his backbone. He was glad to return to his dear Dreamer, and to head off for food.

For once, Flinne didn't eat a hamburger. Instead, he had a sandwich of turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mustard. He devoured it in perhaps five bites, and fetched another for himself before subsiding to a more humane pace. Perhaps his manners still lacked something of the civilization he'd returned to, but he still didn't spill much.

When he'd finished, his luminous eyes rose to his lover, her smile infectiously pulling one of his own to the forefront. "Much," He confirmed, leaning his elbows on the tables, and mimicking Aria's chin-in-hands posture. "How're you holding up with all of this?" He asked. Not as if he thought she was going to have a mental break of course, but as a friend. A lover.
 
At his question, Aria blew out a little puff of air. "Honestly? I'm so frustrated I can hardly stand it," she spread her hands and shrugged to communicate her helplessness. "I feel absolutely useless, like I'm not contributing anything to the larger cause." Aria returned her chin to its previous rest, a crease forming between her brows as she frowned and bit her lip. At last, she shook her head and leaned back against the padded backrest of the booth behind her.

"At least with all the poking and prodding you've been put through, and everything that you know about these things, you've got something to contribute," she intoned quietly, "How are you holding up? It can't be fun being a human pincushion and then being told that you've got a Geiger reading."

Deciding that sharing with him a deeper level of honesty, childish or not, was in fact something that she wanted to do if only for the sake of levity and to keep that gorgeous smile on his face, she schooled her features into a pout. "And if I'm really honest, and more than a little bit selfish, all I want to do is hole up in our hotel room and make you sing to me. Among other things," she purred the last, half-joking and letting her lips curve into a mischievous smile.

Deciding that her salad was now too wilted to be edible, Aria began gathering her purse. "Ready to go? Want to head back to campus or do something else for a while?"
 
Flinne found a soft, empathetic smile on his face. He knew what it was to feel impotent in the face of a world-shattering event. His smile broadened at the honest -and more than slightly pleasant- idea of being spirited away to a hotel room for nights of passion and revelry until the world ended. Her question after his own state of being caught him rather off guard, and his brows rose.

"Me?" he asked, stupidly. <i>No, your evil twin.</i> Retorted the voice in his mind. He colored, and ignored it. "I'm doing as well as can be expected." He assured her, although how well one could be expected to be was a dubious prospect at best. "I've got a beautiful woman keeping me sane," He pointed out. He winked, and scooted out of his own booth, before standing and offering his hand to his lover.

"You have your phone. They'll call you if they need us." He pointed out. "My tests are done for the day, and we've told them all we know. For now, you and I deserve a break. Let's head back to the hotel, and blow off some frustration." He smiled. "We're allowed to be a little selfish, every once in a while, and I think that a massage would do you good." And if he was going to be perfectly honest, the idea of running his hands all over his lover's body was intriguing to say the very least.

"And maybe," He added, "If you'r very good, I'll sing to you."
 
Nodding in response to his reasonable argument, she couldn't help the wide grin that spread across her face at the suggestions of blowing off frustration and massages. They could both stand to forget that the world outside of the two of them existed for a while.

Aria took his offered hand and slid from her seat to stand beside him, her free hand resting on his broad chest as she pressed a slow promise-laden kiss to his lips. "I'll be sure to be very good," She breathed.

When they arrived back at the hotel, Aria found herself oddly nervous. The initial experience of their intimacy has been so unexpected and charged that it seemed to happen naturally, there with the two of them undressed and ready for bed as they had been. She found that despite her teasing attempts at seduction, she honestly couldn't remember where to go from here. It was like being a teen again, all trembling fingers and raw anticipation. Her eyes trailed over Flinne, and almost in an instant her breath was coming more quickly. The attraction was certainly and apparently there.

Sitting on the bed to hide the unsteadiness of her legs, she pulled the dark mass of her hair over one shoulder and tried to look confident and sexy. "You said something about a massage?"
 
Flinne enjoyed the kiss, thoroughly. His heart sped up, and time seemed to slow down. For an instant, he felt as if they weren't standing in a cafeteria. Nor were they, in fact, standing anywhere. The world consisted of him, and her. When her lips had pulled away, he was grinning again.

At the hotel, he rather casually peeled his shirt off, to let it sprawl messily on the ground a few scant feet from the door. He let his eyes turn to his beautiful, wonderful dreamer, as she sat herself on the bed. "I did," He confirmed, kicking his shoes off in the same casual manner. He wandered nearer, apparently unabashed by the idea of being so scantly clad around Aria. At least until he felt her eyes on him.

Butterflies erupted in his stomach, and tension sprang into his shoulders once more. Despite his own nerves, he crawled onto the bed. Sexy, Aria had in spades. "I did indeed," He assured her, a hand rising to trail his knuckles faintly down the nape of the woman's neck. "But the massage I promised you was a real one. Lay down." He said, trying to exude more confidence than he felt.
 
The gentle brush of his knuckles on her skin rose goosebumps along her arms and Aria found she had to suppress a little shiver of excitement. She glanced over her shoulder at Flinne where he knelt behind her on the bed, fixing him with a coy pout. "Are you accusing me of thinking that you got me here under false pretenses? Mr. Flannery, I am shocked." Aria chuckled throatily, and grasped the hem of her own shirt in order to follow her lover's example.

Tossing the garment aside, she stood, trembling fingers sliding the button of her jeans undone while she kept her back to him. She might be nervous, but she was determined not to let it show. Slowly she pushed the denim down from her hips, revealing more and more soft skin as she bent all the way down before stepping out of them. Her underthings were a matched set, blue lace and silk. Her heart thundered in her ears; it was a wonder he couldn't hear it.

Turning to Flinne, cheeks burning with color despite the seemingly-confident carriage of herself, Aria smiled a little shyly. She placed a knee on the bed and crawled toward him, lithe as any jungle cat. Laying before him on her stomach and folding her hands beneath her cheek, she spoke softly, "I'm ready when you are."
 
Flinne let a smile, full of mirth spread across his face. It took on shades of desire as Aria's layers fell away, and the Survivor felt his mouth going dry. When his lover bent at the waist, his heart skipped a beat, and he longed to go to her then and there. He made himself wait however, and he was rewarded with a view that could very well have men fighting over it. And it was all his. "Miss Garza," He murmured. "You may think what you may, but I assure you that my intentions are wholly juvenile, and debaucherous."

He pushed himself to his knees, and undid his own jeans. After a much less graceful doffing of the cumbersome pants, he rolled back onto the bed. Oh Flinne had a sort of grace when he moved, but it didn't translate to sexy bedroom stripping, apparently. Clad only in his undershorts, he neared his lover on hands and knees. Rather carefully, he swept her hair aside once more. Rough, calloused hands touched down gently on Aria's shoulders first. "Let me know if I'm pressing too hard," He said, and he began.

"You know," He mused, leaning in to give some weight to his effort. He was searching for knots of bunched muscles. "I got in fights in highschool for taking classes on massage therapy." He said, with a grin. "People thought it was <i>girly</i>." He leaned in closer still, and he pressed his lips to Aria's bare throat, as his fingers worked down her spine. "You're tense, miss Garza. Let me smooth your worries away." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper.
 
The less-than-graceful way in which Flinne removed his pants had Aria shaking with quiet giggles, her previous nervousness dissolving. She glanced up covertly under the veil of her hair to watch him and drink in the sight of his bare skin. A soft sigh broke free when he moved the dark waves of her hair aside and lay those deliciously calloused hands on her shoulders.

The warm pressure as he worked the tension out of her muscles had her moaning in no time. "Mmmh. Short-sighted highschool boys," she purred, "If they only knew how useful this particular skill is." She could almost hear the grin in his voice as she spoke to her, and it raised goosebumps along her back. The lips on her throat, however, had her burning. She gasped, a sultry smile spreading over her lips as she slid the straps of her bra down over her shoulders and off her arms. It was a simple matter after that to unclasp it, and toss the lacy garment to the floor without exposing herself.

"There; nothing to get in the way of your worry-smoothing now," she whispered back. As Flinne's rough hands rasped over her satin skin, her muscles did indeed relax. The tension flowed away under his careful ministrations, soft whimpers accompanying his work on any particularly stubborn knots. "Where have you been all my life?" she asked with a low, delighted chuckle. "I honestly think I did dream up the perfect man. Whatever it was that brought you from my mind an into my arms, I'll praise it," she murmured into the comforter.
 
Flinne could see the goosebumps rise on Aria's bare shoulders, and the way she slipped so stealthily out of that bra of hers had the poor Survivor getting ahead of himself. <i>She looks good enough to eat, but you promised her a massage Flannery. Damn you if you won't see it through.</i> He scolded himself sternly, and he tried to school his expression into something more serious. He failed miserably, as his eyes traced the clean contours of his lover's back.

Palms ran firmly along the back of Aria's ribcage, and he knuckled the small of her back gently. His lips trailed down from her throat, along her spine as his hands saw to the all-important task of drawing those succulent moans from his lover's lips. "Mmm, I've found that women rather like a man who knows how to use his hands. Even if they aren't interested in him." He straightened, and scooted farther down the bed, his hands moving to Aria's thigh.

"Let me know if there's anywhere in particular that you need worked." He said. The massage was as much for Flinne as it was for Aria, of course. He absolutely adored the way her skin felt beneath his hands. The warmth. The reality. The <i>life</i>.

"I don't know about perfect," He mused. "Talented, handsome, and fit perhaps. Humble, too. But not perfect." His hands moved to the other thigh. "You're beautiful, you know."
 
Delightful though his hands were, it was the trail of his lips and the soft caress of his hair along her back that made Aria arch and take a slow, hissing breath. His words recalled the way she had watched his hands upon their first meeting, and she smiled against the pillow of her folded hands beneath her cheek. "That's true. The first time we met, I couldn't stop watching as you cleaned your rifle."

When Flinne began to stroke and massage her thighs, she whimpered and found her legs parted slightly. Oh, can I think of a thing or two or three that those hands could happily work. Aria shuddered and sighed into the comforter, her arousal growing into a heady fog coaxed to near palpability by her lover's hands. His commentary on himself had her grinning, and his compliments brought light color to her cheeks. In a fluid movement, she rolled to her back beneath his palms, her own hands covering her breasts shyly while she gazed up into his eyes.

"Do you really think so?" The rough huskiness was back in her voice, quickened breath causing the teasingly-obstructed line of her chest to rise and fall enticingly. Her lips were dry, and Aria ran her tongue over them slowly. She spoke his name like a desperate plea, back arched while she drew her knees up just a bit. Should could have been a pin-up for all that and the slow smile spreading over her lips as she looked him over.
 
Flinne smiled as the girl rolled over beneath him. He returned his hands to her thighs, and worked down each calf gently, before her words drew his eyes back to her face. The expression made his heart race, and his own smile warmed. He let his hands travel back up the outside of each of his lover's legs, his touch feather-light. Forward he leaned, finally drawing a hand from Aria's figure to plant it against the bed just beside her. He leaned back far enough to let his eyes roam her figure hungrily, and he was sure to let the woman see the desire in his eyes. When that luminous gaze of his returned to his lover's face, he leaned in to press his mouth to her own.

The hand that had glided along Aria's thigh slipped it's fingertips just beneath the waistline of her panties. Flinne wasn't entirely certain yet as to whether he ought to be removing her clothing, such as it was. As her knees rose just so, he smiled, breaking the kiss. "I really think so," He breathed, his pulse quickening. The evidence of his desire for his lover would doubtlessly soon become achingly apparent.

"Sometimes," He whispered, "I wish I were just a dream. A dream that you could come to every night. A dream that would lavish you in praise, and affection, and who'd be able to take away all your fears." He'd decided. Slowly, he began to drag those underthings down Aria's lovely thighs.
 
When he looked at her like that, desire dancing in his eyes like emerald fire, Aria's own heart sped its pace. She welcomed his lips with a gentle eagerness, losing herself to her lover's sweet attention and gasping in surprise as Flinne's fingertips came between the silk and her skin.

As Flinne broke the kiss, his words brought a smile to her lips once more. Aria couldn't remember the last time she had smiled so much, been so terribly fulfilled. None of her previous relationships had shown the barest resemblance to the tenderness and stark adoration that her brief time with Flinne had. His gentle brand of passion touched her, lifted her up to new heights of desire and affection. The comment following, however, gave her pause. Aria lifted a hand from her breast to run her cool fingertips over her lover's bare, scarred shoulder.

"How is that any different from what we have, darling?" she paused, a soft cry escaping her throat as the last remaining garment was cast off. "Except, instead of waking heartbroken every morning you're still there beside me when I open my eyes."

Sitting up, Aria ran her hands over Flinne's chest, peppering his shoulder and collar bone with kisses. The state of his arousal was indeed apparent, the sight of the strain against the thin cotton of his shorts sending a searing wave of need radiating through her. Hands trailing lightly over his fine form as his had moved over her own body, she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of his shorts and inched them down; breathing a little moan of appreciation against Flinne's throat, teeth raking softly soon after, Aria pressed her body closer.

A wicked grin curled the corners of her mouth unexpectedly. Tugging the garment to Flinne's knees, she followed with her lips; a searing trail of kisses left in her wake as here and there her tongue flicked against his firm belly. Her breath was coming faster against her lover's pale skin in her state of heightened arousal and in anticipation of her actions. Glancing up into his face through her long lashes with as much desire in her eyes as his had held and a little self-satisfied grin, all her previous coyness forgotten entirely, Aria ran her tongue slowly over his manhood with a soft moan.
 
Flinne was honestly and truely stricken silent by the simple question. Did he really do so much for his lover? He felt so inadequate a prize, in comparison to the enormity of the danger that faced them when they were out in the world. He let a soft, uncertain smile take his face. He found that he didn't mind Aria's fingers on his scars as much as he thought he might. He had a story for each of them of course, although few were the sort to brag on.

Scars flew right from his mind as Aria's hands roamed his bare chest, and her lips trailed over the flesh of his shoulder. Of his chest. Of his collar bone. He let out a pleased gasp as he felt the fabric of his own shorts sliding down from his hips, and across his stiffness. The moan of naked desire roared through Flinne's mind like a wildfire, and the feel of Aria's teeth against his flesh sent goosebumps down his arms.

Flinne's hands began to sink about Aria's bare hips once again when she pressed nearer to him, although as her kisses sank, his hands slid up her sides. His shoulders went taut, and his brows rose. Lower she sank, and disbelief flickered and warred with desire, right up until he felt the warm dampness of his lover's tongue. It was the Survivor's turn to groan this time, his back arching, and his eyes going half-lidded. His hands rose to his lover's shoulders. He knew she didn't need to do this. He also knew that as inexperienced with this particular flavor of intimacy he was, it felt good. <i>Very</i> good.

Her name ran through his mind, and traveled on his breath.
 
Her lover's reaction to her teasing experiment reassured Aria. Bent over as she was, she placed a hand on Flinne's slim hip to steady herself as she continued her endeavor. Full lips moved over this most sensitive flesh, sucking gently, teasingly. The heady scent of him made her head swim, driving her to near madness as the arousal pulsed through her body. She wanted him right then, and was certain that he would happily oblige her, but more than that Aria wanted to drive Flinne to new heights. She raked her fingernails gently over his inner thigh, her breath hot against his groin.

The breathy exhale of her name elicited a soft moan from her in answer as her back arched. Her name on Flinne's lips was pure aphrodisiac; Aria made it her personal mission to draw it from him as much as she could. Glancing up once more before beginning her ministrations in earnest, she encircled the root of him with her free hand and began a slow rhythmic stroke, her tongue dancing along his flesh in an effort to moisten him before she closed her lips around Flinne's eager organ.

His enjoyment became hers as she gripped his hip a little more tightly. Light suction and the flick of her tongue over the soft skin of him, the movement of her hand in time with her lips as she moved the hot slickness of her mouth over him, were the only thoughts that Aria's lust-filled mind could handle. She moaned around him, hips moving unconsciously in time.

Slowly she slid him from her lips to take a deep breath, tongue flicking out as they parted like a signature upon the end of his manhood. That wicked smile was back, and her hand never ceased its slow stroking as she grinned up at him to see just what her lover desired next.
 
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