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Val ducked into the tent with her hair loose and slightly damp at the ends. Robert could see where she'd rushed the blow drying because the strands stuck up in uneven parts near her crown. The citrusy mint hit him first, but it was overshadowed by the nervous way she kept tugging at the hem of her oversized shirt like she was uncomfortable.
"How was the netrunning gig?" Robert's voice surprised him. It was steady and warm, like they were just recapping their days instead of sitting cross-legged on her bunk with the weight of tonight pressing between them. Val blinked, her fingers pausing mid-tug at her shirt hem. She mirrored his posture automatically, knees brushing as she settled in.
"Kashi's encryption was fucked," she said, picking at a loose thread on her shorts. "I had to brute force through three layers of corporate ciphers just to access the payroll files." Her fingers sketched rapid patterns in the air like she was reliving every moment. "He called it 'elegant.' I call it surviving their shitty security protocols." Robert grinned despite the way his pulse stuttered when her knee pressed more firmly against his.
"So elegant," he teased, mimicking Kashi's accent. His pinky finger hooked around hers in a silent question. Val snorted but didn't pull away. She sighed, tilting her head causing some of her hair to slide over one shoulder. "What'd you do today?" Her green eyes pinned him because they were dark enough to drown in and bright enough to burn. Robert's breath caught as the dilemma was set in front of him. Did he tell her the truth? She'd probably kill him if she found out that he went to Cricket for advice, but how else was he going to know what to do? Robert took a deep breath and decided to put his newfound knowledge to the test.
"I just helped Cricket inventory the ammo lockers," he lied. He'd never been good at deception, least of all with Val. The words tasted shitty and he knew he was caught when her nostrils flared. Her gaze flickered to his blonde hair (he'd showered twice just to be on the safe side) then lower until she reached his hands where a small cut marked his palm from gripping Cricket's tent pole too hard. An aggressive blush spread across her face as comprehension dawned.
"Oh my god," she whispered, pressing both hands to her cheeks. "You asked him..." She covered her mouth in an effort to cover her gasp of sheer horror. Robert's denial came too fast, his voice cracking as her eyes widened. "No, I didn't-" Val cut him off with a sharp hand gesture. "How many rounds are in the east locker right now?" His silence lasted for entirely too long. Val groaned into her palms, the sound muffled but unmistakable. "Oh. My. God," she mumbled through her fingers, the tips of her ears burning crimson. "That's embarrassing. That's basically my older brother." Robert frowned, catching Val's wrists before she could hide her face again.
"It's not embarrassing," he said, thumbs moving in small circles in hopes that she wouldn't dart away from him. If anything, he was more nervous and way more mortified than she was. "I love you." The words left his mouth quieter than he'd intended and he felt a little grimy at saying it tonight of all nights. Val shifted. Her fingers twitched against his grip, and for one agonizing second, Robert thought she might really bolt until her shoulders sagged with relief. "Oh," she whispered, her gaze flicking up to meet his. Her eyelashes were damp from the shower, he told himself fiercely, ignoring the way his heart pounded.
Now it was Robert's turn to blush, heat crawling up his neck as the weight of his own words registered. He opened his mouth, to backtrack, to joke, anything... but Val leaned forward and kissed him before sound could escape. Her lips were impossibly soft as they were each time they brushed his, however this time she was hesitant at first then firmer when he didn't pull away. Robert's hands slid from her wrists to her waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her oversized shirt as the kiss deepened. Val sighed against his mouth, her fingers tangling in his hair, and for one beautiful moment, nothing existed beyond the warm press of her body against his and the scent of her shampoo. Robert pulled back first, just far enough to see Val's eyelashes flutter open, her pupils blown wide in the dim tent light. Her cheeks were flushed darker than he'd ever seen them, the color spreading down her throat to disappear beneath her collar.
"Val," he breathed, thumbs rubbing circles against her hip bones through the thin fabric. His voice came out rougher than intended, especially when Val's fingers tightened in his hair. She wasn't quite pulling him into her like she usually did, but she wasn't pushing him away either. Her gaze flicked down to his mouth, then away just as quickly. The nervous energy that usually thrummed through her body had quieted to something softer, more tentative. Robert watched, transfixed, as she worried her lower lip between her teeth, the same lip she'd bitten earlier, leaving behind the faint mark he could still feel when he pressed his tongue to it.
Rule One: Attention
Val exhaled sharply through her nose and he snapped his eyes open wondering when he'd even closed them. She had a look between contemplation and disappointment, but before he could comment, she surged forward again, knocking him backward onto her bed with surprising force. His elbows hit the mattress just in time to catch himself, the springs creaking loudly beneath them. Val straddled his hips with practiced ease, her knees bracketing his thighs as she leaned down to recapture his mouth.
Robert's hands found her waist again, fingers splaying across the warm skin exposed by her shirt riding up. She shivered at the contact but didn't pull away, instead, she pressed closer, her weight settling more firmly against him. The kiss turned messy fast, all clashing teeth and gasping breaths, until Val abruptly broke away to mouth at his jawline. Robert's head thunked back against the pillow, his pulse rabbiting in his throat where her lips now traced the frantic rhythm. His hands shook as they traced the hem of Val's shirt hesitantly. Was she really ok with this? Cricket's voice snarled in his skull: 'Attention first, idiot'. He began cataloguing every reaction: the way her breath shuddered when his fingers brushed bare skin, the tiniest flinch when his nails scraped too high near her ribs. Val arched into the contact with a sound that wasn't quite a whimper, her knee pressing bruises against his thigh.
"Here?" Robert murmured against the hinge of her jaw, thumb circling the dip of her hipbone where she'd leaned into his touch earlier. Val's answering nod was frantic, but he could see that his actions were slowly chipping away at her nerves almost as if she were gearing up for something. He mapped her body like a scaver den, memorizing the gasp when he nipped at her collarbone, the aborted jerk when his palm grazed a ticklish spot near her waistband. Every reaction felt like cracking a code and he couldn't wait to see what lied beyond.
Val's shirt hit the floor with a muffled thump. Robert froze at the sight of her bare chest, most because it was nothing like Julian's clinical diagrams at all. She had scars crisscrossing all over her skin and his fingers on her back brushed against the lashes making her jump and squeeze her eyes closed.
Rule Two: Consent
"Are you still good?" His voice cracked before he cleared his throat. He didn't know if he could look, so his eyes went to meet hers only to find them closed. Instead of speaking, Val answered by dragging his palm over her breast, her nipple pebbling against his calluses. "Yes," she hissed, spine bowing when he thumbed the peak experimentally. Robert filed the reaction away, pressure good, too light bad, as Val's teeth sank into his shoulder to muffle another sound. Her shorts proved trickier; they resisted his fumbling fingers until Val batted his hands away with a scoff. The cloth dropped obscenely loud in the tent's hush. Robert's breath stalled when she wriggled free. His brain completely shorted out. Her tan lines were stark against her pale skin as she proved that she hadn't been wearing underwear. Cricket's third rule hissed in his ears as he fought between pulling away or reaching towards her. 'Don't be an eager puppy.' But Val was already guiding his hand between her thighs, her slickness smearing across his knuckles before he could overthink.
"Feel that?" Val's whisper was barely audible against his temple, her hips canting forward to demonstrate. Robert nodded dumbly, cataloging the exact pressure of her fingers guiding his. The texture surprised him. It wasn't smooth like he'd imagined, but ridged and hot as desert cliffs at noon. His middle finger slipped unexpectedly into yielding heat, drawing a winded sound from Val's throat. "Like that," she gasped, her knee jerking against his ribs. Robert swallowed against the dryness in his throat, watching Val's pupils dilate further as his fingers moved experimentally. "Are you always..." He gestured vaguely between them; his other hand still splayed across her ribcage where her heartbeat thrummed like a hummingbird's wings.
Val shook her head sharply, the damp strands of her braid sticking to her collarbone. "No." Her voice came out rough, uneven. A pause. Then, quieter: "Well... When I think of you, yes." The admission seemed to cost her, her shoulders tensing like she expected mockery. Robert's free hand found hers, guiding her palm to the straining hardness beneath his pants before he could second guess the impulse. Val let out a shaky exhale, her fingers twitching against the fabric. Nerves.
"You're not the only one," he arched up to kiss her forehead before letting his nose brushing the shell of her ear. "I get like this just watching you walk around camp." Val's startled laugh dissolved into a gasp when his thumb circled her clit with soft pressure this time, an attempted reenactment of the motion that had made her hips jerk earlier. Robert watched the reaction greedily: the way her thighs clamped around his wrist, the stifled whimper she tried to smother against his shoulder. He did it again, slower, watching her eyelashes flutter closed. His chest swelled with emotion and he recognized it as pride.
"Fuck," Val breathed, her fingers scrabbling at his waistband with sudden urgency. The button gave way with a sharp pop that sounded way too loud in the tent's stillness. Robert's breath hitched when her fingers brushed bare skin then stilled when she hesitated, her touch faltering. 'Maybe this was too much to quickly?' He thought with a frown.
"Show me," Val demanded, her voice rough with something Robert couldn't name. Her green eyes burned in the dim light, pupils swallowing iris. "How you..." She gestured vaguely toward his lap with her free hand, the motion uncharacteristically clumsy. Robert hooked his thumbs into his waistband, pausing when Val's breath hitched audibly. The fabric slid down his hips in a slow reveal: first the jut of his pelvic bones, then the dark trail of hair leading south until he stood bare before her. Val's pupils dilated further, her lips parting slightly as her gaze dropped then flickered back up to his hair.
"Holy shit. Why is it different col-..." she breathed, fingers twitching at her sides before curling into fists. Her knee bounced rapidly against the cot. "Wait! How is that supposed to-" The words died in her throat as she shook her head violently, black hair fanning out in every direction. "Nevermind." The finality of her decision was punctuated by her bringing of palms of her cheeks and slapping them. He would have laughed if he felt like his chuckle wouldn't have made her skyrocket off the bed. Before Robert could answer the questions, Val surged forward to recapture his mouth, her kiss desperate enough to bruise. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she ground against his thigh with enough force to make the springs creak. Robert's hands found her waist automatically.
"We don't..." Robert swallowed hard, his fingers flexing against her overheated skin. "We don't have to go all the way tonight." Val's pupils were blown so wide the green was nearly swallowed. She bit her lower lip before speaking, "I want to try." Her grip on his shoulders tightened briefly. "At least... try." Robert exhaled through his nose before nodding. His hands trembled only slightly as he guided hers downward, their fingers tangling in the coarse thatch of hair at the base of his cock. Val's breath hitched audibly when he wrapped both their hands around his length, her fingertips still colder pressed against his overheated skin.
"Like this," he encouraged against her temple as he tried to keep still. He demonstrated the motion slowly, up, twist at the head, down, watching Val's eyelashes lower. Her grip was tentative at first, her movements clumsy with inexperience, but something in her expression sharpened when he groaned at a particular twist of her wrist. Val's grip grew surer with each stroke and her nails scraped lightly at the base on the upstroke, thumb swiping over the head in a way that made Robert's hips jerk involuntarily. "Shit!" His hand clamped over hers, halting the motion as his stomach muscles contracted sharply. "Wait, w-wait!"
Rule Three: Composure
She recoiled like she'd been shocked, fingers curling into her palms. "Did I do something wrong!?"
"N-no, it's good," Robert gasp, catching her wrist before she could retreat completely. He pressed her palm flat against his abdomen where the muscles still quivered. "Just didn't want it to end yet." The admission burned his ears, but Val's slow exhale and renewed grip made the vulnerability worthwhile. They stared each other and he arched an eyebrow in silent question, and she gave the smalles of nods.
The foil packet crinkled loudly when he fished it from his discarded pants. She watched with interest as he rolled the condom down his length, her fingers twitching like she wanted to assist but didn't quite dare. Their shirts joined the growing pile of fabric on the floor, skin meeting skin in a slide of sweat and shared breath.
When Robert guided Val onto her back, her knees fell open with only the slightest hesitation. He pressed forward slowly, watching her face intently when her flinch came sudden and violent, her whole body tensing around him like a fist. Robert froze at two inches deep, the tightness bordering on painful making him frown. "V?"
"Keep going," Val gritted out, her nails digging into his shoulders hard. A single tear streaked down the side of her face before curling around her ear and disappearing into her hairline. Robert froze, he wasn't even halfway in, to focus on the way her body clenched around him felt like being squeezed in a vise. Her breathing came in short, sharp bursts through flared nostrils. It didn't feel... Right. The only time he'd ever heard these noises is when she was seriously injured and they were too far from camp. He shook his head. He couldn't do this. His words to Cricket that he would never hurt her. He would never do this to her were replaying in his head.
"I can't." Robert started to pull back with tears prickling at his eyes, his stomach twisting when Val hissed through her teeth. Her face was flushed dark with effort, not arousal. "V, you're crying." She swiped angrily at her face with the back of her hand. "I'm fine," she snapped, but the tremor in her voice betrayed her. When Robert withdrew completely, she made a wounded noise in her throat that sounded partially like frustration, but the relief in her eyes was abundant and her thighs trembled where they bracketed his hips. Robert held her face between his palms, thumbs brushing away the dampness on her cheeks that was flowing steadily now.
"Let me try something else." He pleaded. The sight of her like this, tense and hurting when this was supposed to be good, made hm want to run. Val's expression flickered to reveal disappointment warring with gratitude before she schooled it into blankness by looking at her nightstand. Robert kissed her forehead, then each eyelid, tasting salt. "I'm not upset," he spoke against her skin. "Promise." His hands slid down to cradle her ribcage, thumbs brushing the scars there. "I love you."
Val wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, a quick, angry motion that made her green eyes burn brighter. Her breath hitched once before she swallowed hard and raised her arms slightly. "J-just..." The word cracked and she didn't finish the sentence, just curled her fingers inward twice in the universal sign for 'come here'. He wasted no time gathering her against his chest carefully, mindful of the way her shoulders tensed against his chest. Her skin was fever-hot where it pressed against his, damp with sweat and tears. The first sob shook her frame violently, completely silent except for the way her ribs expanded against his palms. He traced the ridges along her back automatically, his fingers catching on the raised scars he knew by heart: uneven lashes from Raph's belt when she was seven for stealing rations. They had faded to silver threads, but she was still particular about who saw them.
Once her breathing steadied after a few minutes, her fingers unclenching from his back where she'd been gripping it like a lifeline. He waited until her heartbeat slowed against his chest before murmuring, "Want to try again? think skipped a few steps, so we can start over." His thumb brushed the damp hollow beneath her ear gently. He was saying it more for her benefit because if he'd learned anything about her it was how stubborn she was. She nodded against his collarbone, the motion small but sure. "Yeah, I trust you. Whatever makes that thing fit inside me." the words were warm and slightly sticky from her earlier tears. Robert nodded and exhaled through his nose and shifted downward between her thighs, recalling a grainy vid Tuck had smuggled into camp months ago; the woman in it had seemed to enjoy this part immensely. But before he could even lower his head, Val's knees snapped together like a bear trap, her heel connecting painfully with his shoulder.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Val demanded, propping herself up on her elbows, her hair practically shooting up out of her head. Her expression wavered between alarm and shame. Robert caught her ankle before she could kick him again. "Trust me," he said, voice steady despite the way his ears burned. Val's skeptical look could have melted steel. He remembered Cricket's fourth rule, communication, and looked around her tent. He needed her to relax otherwise he'd end up hurting her again. His heart was already hurting at the thought of injuring her again.
"Count stitches." He instructed. Val blinked. "What?"
"The tent seams." Robert gestured toward the canvas ceiling where the fabric puckered at irregular intervals. "Out loud. So, I know you're not just making numbers up." Val's mouth opened then snapped closed. Her thighs remained locked like a vault. "You want me t-"
"Yes." Robert's thumb traced the arch of her foot, feeling the tension thrumming through her. "Lay your head back on the pillows and count stiches, Valerie." She flopped her head back against the pillows with exaggerated force, her hair splaying across the fabric like a woman out of that one old scary movie. "One," she announced to the canvas ceiling louder than necessary. The tent seam above her head had eleven stitches, she'd counted them during insomnia nights, but she pretended this was the first time she'd ever done this. "Two." Her knees remained locked, thighs trembling with tension. "Three." Robert waited with his palm hovering just above her ankle. The desert wind rustled the tent flaps, but he was too focused on her to care. Val's breathing caught on "six," but he didn't move until she exhaled fully on "seven," her shoulders sinking deeper into the mattress.
By "ten," his fingertips grazed her ankle with barely there touches, just enough to make the muscle twitch beneath his touch. Val sucked in a sharp breath, fingers knotting in the bedsheets, but Robert stilled immediately. The silence stretched between them, until she exhaled and continued counting.
"Eleven." This time when his hand slid up her calf, she didn't tense. The callouses on his palms caught slightly on her skin, small, rough reminders of every time he'd gripped a rifle or sparred in the yard. Robert moved with calculated slowness, mapping the curve of her knee, the dip behind it, the strength of her thighs even though he'd done this a few times before. Val's counting stuttered at "fourteen" when his thumb found the scar from a grazed bullet along her inner thigh, but she didn't stop.
By "sixteen," he'd settled between her legs, propped on his elbows like he was studying a tactical map. Val's heels dug into the mattress, her knees falling open just enough to reveal the flutter of her abdomen with each unsteady breath. Robert blew gently across her skin, watching the fine hairs rise in its wake. "Seventeen," Val choked out, her voice quivering. He exhaled slowly against Val's inner thigh before letting his fingers trace familiar paths. He knew she liked this part; the way his calloused fingertips brushed lightly over her clit always made her breath hitch. But tonight he wanted more. Swallowing hard, he cautiously extended his tongue. Val's entire body jerked like she'd been electrocuted, her knees snapping together violently enough to clip his shoulders.
"Eighteen!" she yelped, voice cracking. Her hands flew to his hair as she panted above him. Robert froze. "You okay?" his question was muffled against her thigh. Val swallowed audibly. "I don't...know." Her fingers twitched in his hair, but she didn't recoil. "'m gonna try again," Robert announced, pressing a kiss to the same spot. "Start your count over." Val's huff of air was an angry one that make him smirk. "One." Her voice was too irritated to waver. Robert pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh, tasting salt. "Two."
His first experimental swipe of the tongue was hesitant, barely grazing her clit before retreating. Val's thighs jerked violently, her breath catching on "three." Robert adjusted to maintain a steady pressure as he licked a thin stripe upward. Val's hips twitched, her "four" dissolving into a shaky exhale. The third attempt found its mark when he made a focused circle right over the swollen nub that made Val's knees slam against his shoulders again. "Five," she gasped, fingers scrabbling at the sheets. Robert sought the reaction greedily. He repeated the motion with firmer intent, watching through lidded lashes as Val's stomach muscles contracted before she forced herself to relax.
By "seven," Val's counting had dissolved into gasps between numbers. Robert added a single finger, just the tip to test it out, and her entire body arched off the mattress. The sound she made wasn't anything like the porn vid. It was higher, but her hand flew to cover her mouth in the middle of her moan. Robert froze instantly, but Val's hips jerked demandingly against his face, her thighs clamping around his ears. Her free hand fisted in his hair and he took the hint, resuming his earlier rhythm with renewed focus. Val's breath came in sharp bursts through her nose, her abdominal muscles fluttering visibly with each pass of his tongue.
When he added the finger again, deeper this time, curling upward, Val's heel dug into his back hard enough to bruise. Her muffled cry vibrated through the hand clamped over her mouth and Robert felt the exact moment her body clenched around his finger, her inner muscles pulsing in rapid succession as she shuddered violently above him. He stayed buried between Val's thighs until her muscles stopped twitching, until her grip on his hair loosened unsure if he was supposed to move. Only then did he notice the uncomfortable tightness in his own abdomen, the condom clinging damply where he'd apparently finished without realizing. Heat flooded his face when Val's bleary gaze dropped to the same realization, her lips parting slightly.
"Is that..." her voice was hoarse as she let her question drop. Her fingers twitched near his shoulder. He didn't know if he should have been embarrassed, and shame began to flood him as it dawned on him that he still wanted more from her, even after he'd already taken so much. But Cricket's final rule growled in his memory, making him set his own selfish desires aside.
Rule Four: Aftercare
Robert reached for the crumpled blanket at the foot of the cot, dragging it over them both in one awkward motion. Val stiffened momentarily when his arm circled her waist, but relaxed by increments as he settled behind her, her back flush against his chest. "You good?" He asked into the nape of her neck, nose brushing the fine hairs stuck there with sweat. Val nodded then seemed to reconsider, her shoulders rising in a shrug as her eyes darted around the tent's ceiling before she settled into the bed.
"I feel different," she admitted after a beat, fingertips brushing the back of his hand where it rested against her stomach. Robert didn't know what to make of the admission. He guessed different wasn't bad. Different was similar to unfamiliar. He could handle that. He squeezed her gently in acknowledgement, before pressing his face into her back. He'd already closed his eyes when Val's fingers started tracing the raised veins on his forearm, her touch light as feathers. "I could ask you the same question," she spoke softly into the air. "Are you ok?"
Robert's arm tightened around her waist, his nose buried in the tangled mess of her hair. The citrus scent of her shampoo mixed with sweat and something muskier now, the mix of all three became a scent he'd want to fill his lungs forever. "I think I'm different," he repeated her words back to her although his were twinged with sleepiness. When Val tensed against him, he pressed a kiss to each knob of her spine before adding, "Happy different."
The desert nights turned strange and beautiful like watercolors, every sunset stretching the hours thin between Robert's duties and the moment he'd find Val's shadow lingering near his tent flap. Their encounters became ritualized: Val arriving with damp hair and nervous fingers, Robert pretending not to notice the way she'd bite her lip when his hands slipped under her waistband. Each night, she'd let him push further, another inch, another gasp, until... One night, he'd gone to finger her, and she'd practically kicked him at the pain. She'd fled before he could say her name twice, leaving him to bit his lips to keep his own tears at bay.
Robert found Cricket deep in an engine block the next morning, grease streaking his forehead like war paint. "You look like a man who's seen god," Cricket observed without looking up, wrench twisting viciously. "And by god, I mean pussy." Robert's boot scuffed the gravel. "Cricket..." he warned. Cricket held up his blackened hands in surrender before Robert could protest further.
"Walk me through it, Lindy. Step by step." The wrench clattered onto the workbench at he patted his hands against his thighs with a frown. Robert's ears burned. He glanced around the empty makeshift garage before muttering, "She tenses up. Bad. Like..." His hands formed an invisible vise in the air. Cricket's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "Oh." A beat. Then, quieter: "oh." His mouth twisted like he'd bitten into something sour. "That's an easy fix."
Robert's spine straightened. "There's nothing wrong with Val," he snapped. His knuckles whitened around the wrench he hadn't realized he'd grabbed. "There's nothing to fix. She doesn't need fixing." Cricket's calloused palm landed on his shoulder in what he knew was supposed to be a comforting motion. "Easy, soldier." He jerked his chin toward his tent. "C'mere."
Robert sighed and glanced toward the mess tent for the third time in fifteen seconds, shoulders tensed against the possibility of Val's silhouette appearing between the canvas flaps. Cricket and Bean's bed creaked ominously as he rummaged beneath it, emerging with a dented metal toolbox that smelled faintly of rust and medicinals. The click of the latch screeched in the otherwise quiet tent.
"Here." Cricket tossed him a small amber bottle with no label, the liquid inside sloshing weirdly. Robert caught it against his chest. "Go crazy." Robert turned the bottle over in his hands, the glass warm from Cricket's hands. "Is thi-"
"'s just lube," Cricket interrupted, "It's not magic. It just reduces friction." His mouth quirked at Robert's skeptical look. "Dude! It's not poison. Your girl's built tight, that's all." Anger flared in Robert at the tone taken, prepared to defend his girlfriend's honor and he regretted coming here. He'd bring out his inner bean and stab the man if his 'help' turned out to be bullshit this time. Yet... The bottle burned a hole in his pocket all afternoon.
Robert methodically arranged his backpack's contents like a surgeon preparing instruments: condoms aligned on the nightstand, a small pack of wipes for afterward, the amber bottle tucked discreetly beneath his spare shirt, and a tiny clean washcloth. Cricket's voice snarled in his memory: 'Foreplay's the whole goddamn meal, not just appetizers.' A week of teasing touches and unfinished business had left Val practically vibrating every time they touched but tonight, he wouldn't pull away.
The camp's usual rhythmic patter ceased abruptly as if he were fine tuned to her presence. He froze with one hand still buried in his pack where he'd been rearranging the lube bottle for the fifth time. The tent flap rustled as Val entered with her air of authority except for the way her hair dripped onto bare shoulders. She was wearing a plain t-shirt, his if the length brushing against her thigh, was any indication. Her gaze swept the suspiciously organized contents, one eyebrow arching toward her hairline.
"Are you expecting multiple partners?" she deadpanned, nodding toward the condom lineup. He could almost taste her disappointment in the air. During one of their earlier attempts, she'd collapsed into a heap of tears in his arms sobbing out phrases like 'wasting your time' and 'happier with someone else', but he'd comforted her until not even a sniffle remained. Valerie was it for Robert. No one else could compare and he didn't even entertain the idea of anyone else.
"Absolutely not." he countered, reaching for her before she could second guess his intentions again. His palms slid up her bare thighs beneath the stolen shirt, callouses catching on goosebumps. He loved that her body still reacted like this to his touch. They'd fooled around more than a few times at various spots in camp, mostly to his insistence and her eventual pleasure. Val inhaled sharply through her nose but didn't stop him when his thumbs found the creases where thigh met hip.
"The shower's free," she grumbled, fingers twitching near his shoulders like she couldn't decide whether to push or pull. Robert caught her before she could retreat. "Already showered," he smiled and held her, taking his time inhaling the sharp citrus of her soap. Val's eyebrows lifted but she didn't pull away. Her pulse jumped under his lips.
Their usual routine unfolded with practiced ease: Val's teeth at his collarbone (his favorite spot), Robert's hands skating up her thighs beneath the stolen shirt, the muffled thud of bodies hitting cot springs. But when Val reached for his waistband, Robert caught her fingers. "Wait. Wanna try something." Val stilled instantly, remembering the last time he'd said that to her. Her gaze sharpened in the dim light, tracking Robert's movements as he fished the amber bottle from his pack. "What's that?" Her tone balanced between curiosity and suspicion. Robert uncapped it with a soft pop, revealing the viscous liquid inside.
"Cricket said it helps." He rolled the bottle between his palms, warming the contents. "With...friction." Val's expression cycled through several emotions too quickly to name: her lips parting, tightening, then quirking at one corner. "You talked to Cricket? AGAIN!" she demanded, fingers twitching toward the amber bottle before curling back into fists. The rage in her voice would've flayed weaker men alive. Robert exhaled sharply through his nose and pressed the bottle into Val's palm without breaking eye contact. "I know I told you I wouldn't ask Cricket again after last time." His thumb brushed the inside of her wrist where her pulse jumped erratically. "But I need you to promise me something."
Val's fingers curled reflexively around the bottle, her expression wavering between wariness and reluctant curiosity. "What?" Robert's free hand traced the tense line of her jaw before he dropped his hand and looked at his lap. "After... When I hold you. Don't look so disappointed. I'm trying my hardest too." Her eyes softened in the dim light, a flicker of trust cutting through her usual defensive sharpness. She exhaled through her nose before spreading her legs with sudden confidence.
"Do your worst," she challenged, fingers digging into the blankets. Robert chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against her inner thigh where his lips still lingered. "I'll try not to," he promised, before dragging his tongue up her slit in one slow, devastating stroke. Val's hips jerked off the mattress, her breath catching audibly. He repeated the motion with added pressure this time, circling her clit with purposeful precision until her thighs trembled against his ears. If he had to pick a single act that he'd repeat each day if he could, it would probably be this one.
When he reached for the amber bottle, Val's hand shot out to intercept it, her fingers wrapping around his wrist with surprising gentleness. "Let me," she muttered, popping the cap with her teeth. The scent of synthetic cherries filled the air as she poured a generous amount into his palm, her own fingers slicking the excess along his length. Robert's eyes fluttered shut at the sudden contact, his hips bucking involuntarily into her grip. He opened them to see her smirking at him and resisted the urge to kiss her until she couldn't breathe anymore.
Robert's fingers moved slowly, one slick digit circling Val's entrance before pressing inward. She still groaned, but she didn't tense like before. Not when he added a second finger, curling them just so to stretch her in slow, steady increments. The lube made everything glide smoother, easier; he could actually feel the difference in how her muscles fluttered around him now, less like a vise and more like steady, yielding pressure. By the third finger, Val's thighs had fallen open completely, her hips canting subtly toward his hand. Robert watched her face, the way her lower lip caught between her teeth, the flutter of her pulse at her throat, and realized with sudden clarity that she wasn't just tolerating this. She was trusting it. Trusting him. The thought lodged in his chest and made his cock twitch with anticipation.
When the head of his cock finally brushed her entrance, Val didn't wince. Didn't freeze. She surprised him with a quiet sigh instead, her fingers brushing against his shoulders. Robert exhaled through his nose, pressing forward with infinite care. The stretch was still tight, Val's body yielding to his, and the absence of pain in her expression made his throat tighten.
"O-okay?" he managed to get out, pausing when he was barely halfway in. Sweat beaded along his spine from the effort of holding still. Val nodded sharply, her braid rasping against the cot fabric. "Keep going," she encouraged, her voice thick with something Robert couldn't name. Her hips tilted upward in a silent demand, her legs wrapping around his waist with surprising strength. Robert moaned when their hips finally met, a sound that seemed to echo Val's own relieved gasp beneath him. The fullness was almost unbearable; heat and pressure coiled tight around him in a way that eliminated all rational thought. Val shifted experimentally, a small roll of her hips that made his vision whiten at the edges.
"Fuck, stop," he gritted out, fingers digging into the sharp angles of her pelvis. Val obeyed him instantly, her breath coming in quick bursts against his collarbone. Robert squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on the tent seams above them to find eleven stitches, uneven spacing, while his pulse hammered in his throat. When he finally trusted himself to speak, his voice came out wrecked: "Just gimme a second." Silence stretched between them and he wondered if anything she gave him would ever be better than this. He was too busy just feeling, when she spoke softly.
"It's different," Val murmured. Her voice held none of its usual edge and was instead filled with quiet wonder. "Not bad." She flexed around him on purpose, watching his eyelashes flutter. "You feel...good." Robert let out something between a laugh and a groan. The amber bottle glinted from where it had rolled against the cot springs, catching the low light as he shifted his hips fractionally. Val's thighs tensed against his sides, just feeling, as he withdrew to the tip before sliding back in with agonizing slowness. The drag was smoother now, her body accepting where before it had resisted. He almost orgasmed at that thought alone. She'd accepted him.
Val's nails scraped down his back when he bottomed out again, leaving twin trails of fire in their wake. Her breathing dissolved into a groan, but not from pain this time. Instead from the way Robert's thumb found her clit on the next thrust, circling in time with their joined rhythm. "R-rob-" His name fractured as her back arched sharply. He couldn't help but watch Val's expression splinter on the next thrust. Her fingers scrambled for purchase against the sweat-slick planes of his back, nails biting into his skin when he angled his hips just so. The noise she made wasn't like anything from Cricket's smuggled vids. She was raw and untamed, the noises vibrating through her clenched teeth as her thighs tensed around his waist.
"Please look at me," Robert begged, thumb still circling her clit. Val's eyelashes fluttered wildly before her gaze locked onto his to reveal her pupils blown wide, the usual hesitation dissolved into affection and vulnerability. He memorized the exact moment her breath hitched when he rolled his hips again, the slow drag pulling a choked whimper from her throat.
Val's hips jerked upward to meet his next thrust, but Robert caught her rhythm instinctively, their bodies finding an unsteady flow that made the cot springs squeak in protest. The sound seemed to startle Val because she froze mid-stroke, her hand coming down to cover her mouth as her gaze darted toward the tent flap. Robert stilled instantly before relaxing and kissing the backs of her hands that were covering her lips. "Nobody's out there," he chuckled. His thumb continued its relentless circles despite their paused momentum, drawing a shuddering gasp from Val's throat. "Just us." At the reassurance, she looked into his eyes before wrapped her arms around his neck and bucking into his hand with sudden decisiveness.
"Faster," she demanded. Robert obeyed without thought, his hips snapping forward in a sharp, experimental thrust that punched a ragged moan from Val's throat. The sound seemed to surprise her as much as him; her hand flying to cover her mouth again. Robert caught her wrist this time, pinning it to the mattress beside her head as he repeated the motion with added force.
"Don't please," he gritted out, watching her pupils dilate further. "I wanna hear you." Val's protest died in a choked whimper as Robert angled his hips just so, the new position dragging his cock along some internal ridge that made her back bow off the cot. Her fingernails raked down his forearm where he held her wrist captive, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts that fogged the space between them. His name became a constant gasp as he thumbed her clit in tight circles, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
Robert came with a ragged groan, his hips stuttering against Val's as his orgasm ripped through him in hot pulses. He barely registered the sensation because he was too focused on the way Val's inner muscles fluttered around him, tightening rhythmically as his thumb kept circling her clit with relentless precision. She gasped sharply beneath him, her back arching off the cot as her thighs clamped around his waist, not pushing him away now, but holding him deep inside as her own climax shuddered through her.
They collapsed together in a sweaty tangle of limbs, Robert's softening cock still buried inside Val as they both struggled to catch their breath. The desert air cooled the sweat on their skin, raising goosebumps along Val's arms where they pressed against Robert's chest. He traced them absently with his fingertips, marveling at how her body continued to pulse around him even as they both came down from the high.
"y're stl..." He could barely hear her, her fingers already beginning to trace where new bruises would form on his collarbones and shoulders from her attention. She swallowed hard and tried again. "you're still in me." Robert hummed in acknowledgment, too tired to form proper words. His thumb drifted lazily through her folds, eliciting a shudder that made Val's toes curl against his calf. "M'not moving yet," he mumbled into the damp hollow of her throat. "Feels too good."
Val made a noise halfway between a laugh and a groan, her hips shifting minutely beneath his. The movement drew a hiss from between her teeth, and his eyes shot open. That was not a pleasure noise this time; this was pain. Robert lifted his head immediately, scanning her face for any sign of distress. "Hurts?" Val's head shook and she tensed her muscles in an effort not to wince. "m'fine," she muttered, voice rough as desert gravel. you're enjoying this." Her eyelids fluttered shut, lashes casting spiked shadows across cheeks still flushed deep pink. Robert exhaled through his nose and brushed a sweaty strand of hair from her forehead before disentangling their limbs with the utmost care.
He reached for the small washcloth that was arranged on the nightstand, the soft gray cotton still crisp from the packaging. He shook it out one handed, the fabric whispering against his callouses. "Gonna clean you up," he promised although it sounded more like a warning than a genuine request Val responded with a noncommittal grunt, her arm slung over her eyes like she was blocking out the sun. The first pass of cloth between her thighs drew a sharp hiss before Val's hips jerked reflexively despite her exhaustion. Robert froze instantly, the rag clenched in his fist. "Shit. Sorry." His thumb brushed the inside of her knee in silent apology. In the lantern light, the evidence of his affection glistened faintly in the form of swollen flesh and a twinge of blood diluted by lube and spend. His throat tightened.
"Did I? Did I do that?" Val's shoulders moved up and down in a shrug. "S'fine," she yawned, the words slurring with sleep. Her fingers flexed against his pulse point as she patted his hand. "Just...go slow." The admission cost her; Robert saw it in the way her jaw tensed beneath the arm still covering her face. He worked with methodical precision after that; dabbing rather than wiping, his free hand splayed across her hipbone to minimize movement. Val's breathing steadied by degrees, the tension leaching from her thighs as he tended to her with renewed care. When he finally tossed the soiled cloth aside, she made a grabby motion at him before he rejoined her on the bed.
The cot groaned under their combined weight as Val curled into Robert's chest, a consistent gesture that surprised neither of them. Her breathing evened out quickly, lips parted against his collarbone where a deepening bite mark still throbbed. Robert traced the ridges of her spine, counting each vertebra like sheep, each scar becoming a fence. Somewhere beyond the tent flap, dawn had probably started painting the desert in pale golds, but here with Val's knee hooked over his thigh and her fingers twitching against his ribs in sleep, time stretched infinitely so he could stay in this moment with her forever.