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“See you tomorrow, Murph,” she says, leaning against the door frame after the runner steps out of her apartment.
“You’d better get your beauty sleep,” Murphy smirks, leveling a pointed gaze at her.
“I’ll be just fine, thank you. Goodbye!” Rogue swings the door shut and leans back against it with a sigh.
I will leave my heart at the door
I won't say a word
They've all been said before, you know
So why don't we just play pretend?
Like we're not scared of what's coming next
Or scared of having nothing left
She listens to the toilet flush and the sink run while she’s standing there, watching the globs in the lava lamp across the room. Rogue doesn’t typically have a bleak outlook on life, usually it just is what it is, but at the moment she’s not convinced that she’s going to be alive by this time tomorrow, and the reason for that is washing his hands in the bathroom. When he comes out, he leans against the wall and crosses his arms, watching her stand there and stare at the lamp. The only sound in the apartment is the quiet crackling of the almost broken radio.
“Never seen you look scared before.”
Rogue turns her head and levels her moss colored gaze on him. Taking him in right now is somehow different than it’s ever been before. Almost precious somehow. Even through all the fucked-uppedness.
Look, don't get me wrong
I know there is no tomorrow
“Never planned to stick a nuke in a corp HQ before.”
“Ah, come on. It’ll be a job like any other,” he says, but she can hear that even he isn’t convincing himself entirely.
She pushes away from the door with a short huff of laughter and goes to the kitchenette, pulling a bottle of whiskey towards herself. The glass skates across the counter, and she pulls the lid off with a pop . As she’s pouring two glasses, she feels him sidle up behind her, and then his ‘ganic hand is sliding to her hip and squeezing, tender in a way that doesn’t quite match Johnny Silverhand. At least not the Johnny Silverhand that the world knows. Their fifteen years of history hits her like a freight train. He’s the only person that Rogue has ever despised and also loved with her whole heart. The nuances of their relationship are labyrinthine, twisting blindly and eagerly around every approaching corner in a maze that never ends.
“What are you doing, Johnny?” she sighs, capping the bottle.
“Just happy you agreed to help. Couldn’t do it without you, Rache,” he says, and his chin meets her shoulder as he reaches around her to grab one of the glasses with his chrome hand.
“Thought I told you ten years ago not to call me that again,” she purses her lips and takes up the other glass. The whiskey melts across her tongue in a blend of bitter and spice, the same way that her old name sounds coming off of his lips.
All I ask is
If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I'm more than just a friend
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do
It matters how this ends
'Cause what if I never love again?
Rogue doesn’t know when it becomes inevitable. Maybe it's from the first touch of his hand to her hip. Maybe it's from that night two weeks ago when he’d asked for her help in his crusade against Arasaka. All she knows is that the minute her half empty glass falls to the floor and shatters, she’s doomed.
She’s doomed when his lips sear her neck, when his hand splays against her lower stomach, when she rocks her backside into his front and he lets a groan caress her skin.
She’s doomed when she leads him to her bed and presses him to sit, climbs into his lap, slots her lips against his. His hands travel from her backside up, up, up to peel the cropped tank from her torso. He catches her nipple in his mouth the second that nothing is in the way anymore. His fingers dig into the back of her ribcage as if he’s desperate to pull her closer, to consume her. The way his mouth devours the pink bud, she almost thinks he’s trying to.
I don't need your honesty
It's already in your eyes
And I'm sure my eyes, they speak for me
No one knows me like you do
And since you're the only one that matters
Tell me who do I run to?
He plays her body like he plays guitar, flawlessly and with an overwhelming amount of passion.
It’s not fair.
She’s all but helpless as his hands slide down to her backside so he can turn them around and lay her out on the bed. The way he looks at her like she’s his last meal… A shiver passes up her spine and pulses outward. His lips turn up into a smirk, his hands traveling to her belt. He peels the leather pants down her legs and tosses them backwards, then catches her foot when she moves to rest it on the side of the bed. He kisses the bump of her inner ankle, then sears his way up the inside of her leg.
When his mouth meets her inner thigh, he bites at the tender flesh, soothing it with a kiss as he tucks his thumbs under the edges of her thong. He takes his time pulling it down her legs, so much so that she almost wants to ruin the moment by kicking the stupid fuck.
She doesn’t get a chance to.
Once they’re off, he wraps his arms under her knees and tugs her off the edge, draping her legs over his shoulders and delving into her. The way she arches when he starts devouring her core is just short of back breaking. She slides one hand into his shoulder length hair as he licks a straight line up her center, tip of his tongue flicking against the swelling bundle of nerves. Rogue feels like she’s going to seep straight through the mattress.
Look, don't get me wrong
I know there is no tomorrow
All I ask is
If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I'm more than just a friend
Her orgasm just short of shatters her, because he works her up, makes her chase it, rolling her hips closer as he brings her to the edge, then backs off, brings her there again, backs off. He’s almost got her to tears, dripping for him and sweating and panting and whining. She slaps his shoulder with a gasp.
“Johnny, fucking, come on!”
“What do you want, sweetheart?” he whispers against her cunt, kisses the nub that’s desperate for just a little bit more .
“I want you to stop being a fuckhead,” she gasps, writhing.
She can feel him smirk. God he’s an asshole. He runs his thumbs up her slick center, parting her lips and blowing cold air on her clit, then flicking it with the tip of his tongue. “You can do better than that,” he husks, trailing one finger down and pressing into her heat.
An airy groan escapes her as she clenches around it. She tugs his hair, pushing her hips up, “ Johnny , fuck, baby, please ,” she whines.
“That’s it, Rachel ,” his voice rumbles through her the same way her arousal does, and as much as she wants to throat punch him for being a dick, she also wonders how she’s survived without this for so many years.
When he makes her come, she chases it until her whole body seizes up.
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do
It matters how this ends
'Cause what if I never love again?
When he pulls back, he finally undresses himself, and Rogue sits up while he does.
The height of the bed puts her eye level with the bulge in his pants, and when he sheds his final layer, she reaches out and takes him in her hand, licking a straight line up the underside of his cock. She collects the droplet of wetness on his tip with her thumb, taking it with her as she strokes down his length.
“Fuck ,” he huffs, catching her hand, “Much as I miss your mouth on me, I can’t think about anything but bein’ inside of you right now.”
She shudders, twisting her hand to link their fingers together. She scoots back on the bed and pulls him with her, legs parting to make room for him to kneel between them. Johnny’s hand travels up the outside of her leg, bending it up to rest over his shoulder. Another shiver runs through her as he runs the tip of his cock through her folds, before lining himself up and pushing forward.
Let this be our lesson in love
Let this be the way we remember us
I don't wanna be cruel or vicious
And I ain't asking for forgiveness
The way he stretches her is delicious. She can feel every inch of him inside of her, and when he presses down with his chrome hand on her stomach she almost sobs. Her leg falls to his waist and he lets it, because he leans down and catches her in a heated kiss as he starts moving his hips.
His tongue is hot and wet against her own and she can taste herself on him when she sucks it into her mouth. The grunt he feeds her is food enough for a week. His thrusts are slow; they roll against her like waves, threatening to drown her if she gets stuck in the riptide.
She’s pretty sure she already is.
Her lips leave his and she pulls his head down so she can press them to his neck, “Fuck, Johnny… Lemme ride you, baby.”
His hips stutter the same way his moan does.
He slides his hand around her waist and flips them over, and she settles down on her knees, giving him a little undulation that grants her the pleasure of watching his eyes roll back, “Christ , don’t be a bi-”
She lifts herself up, then drops back down before he can finish what he’s saying. Her lips curve up into a smirk as she leans back, resting her hands on his thighs as she rocks her hips into him.
“No need to be mean,” she breathes.
Soon, the coil in her starts tightening up again. Her pace quickens, a moan dripping from her parted lips. Johnny reaches for her wrist and pulls her forward, leaning up to kiss her again. His ‘ganic hand finds its way to her jaw, and when his lips leave hers, his thumb replaces them, pressing until she opens her mouth to let it in.
“Suck.”
Her eyelids flutter, and she does, pad of his finger massaging her tongue. He pulls it away from her so fast that she actually whimpers , until it slides up against her swollen clit. Her forehead falls into his shoulder as she cries out for him, rolling her hips faster, chasing the feeling of his thumb against her, of the coil almost ready to spring.
“Fuck , Rachel , want you to come for me again. Can you do that, sweetheart?”
“Hhh-ah , yeah ... God, stay there, don’t stop,” she pants against his ear.
He does stay, and he doesn’t stop, and when the coil in her snaps, she curves forward with a sob, nails digging crescents into his skin. Her cunt pulses around him, and she can feel every inch of his cock as she keeps rocking on him. His thumb continues circling until her hips start twitching away from him, a little “ Ah ” hitting his neck in a huff.
“One more, baby, give me one more ,” he coos.
“I can’t, fuck, ah -” she whines.
“Know you can, sweetheart. Used to do it for me all the time,” he says, thumb using the wetness seeping out of her to continue sweeping up and down against the oversensitive bundle of nerves, “C’mere, look at me.”
She pulls back just enough that she’s able to, her eyes locking into his as her hips roll against him. He presses down, right there , and her whole body dissolves into a shudder as she starts contracting around him again. His thumb relents, finally , and his arm wraps around her waist so he can keep her rocking on him while he bucks up into her the best he can in this position. She’s surprised he doesn’t make any moves to change it. She winds her arms over his shoulders, teeth digging into her bottom lip as she keeps his gaze, and just a few moments later, his jaw falls open with a soft cry, head tilting back as he finds his release inside her.
All I ask is
If this is my last night with you
Hold me like I'm more than just a friend
Give me a memory I can use
Take me by the hand while we do what lovers do
It matters how this ends
Something about this moment triggers a lump in her throat. When he looks back up at her and his eyes are wet too, they move at the same time. His arms wind tight around her, his nose pressing against the underside of her jaw. Her fingers slide through his hair as she cradles the nape of his neck and holds him.
This is a moment she doesn’t feel like she deserves, but she takes it anyway because she knows it’ll end soon and they’ll be back at each other’s throats like they always have been. He pulls her back and lays down with her. Pulls out of her eventually and gets a washcloth for the both of them. Pulls her back into his arms when he lays down again.
In retrospect, she’ll wish she’d traded silence to tell him that she forgave him, that she loved him, because he was important to her no matter how much shit he’d pulled her through.
In reality, she falls asleep listening to his heartbeat, and wakes up alone.
'Cause what if I never love again?