"Rush" Hellboy II, (Nuala/Nuada)
Title: Rush Author/Artist: shiegra Rating: R Prompt: Hellboy II – Nuada/Nuala – Exposure/Risk of It – They needed each other NOW. Word count: (optional for authors) 407
Nothing mattered, then.
The urgent moments were the strangest to Nuala; in the complacency of immortality, she had rarely desired something so much. Never felt the need that struck her in those moments, like a snake uncoiling in her heart, or gut, like the primal pulse between her legs. The need to feel him that made her fist her hands in his hair and drag him close, his armor against the insides of her thighs, her fingers clawing at his spine, seeking skin even knowing how impractical the desire was.
Shhh, he'd say against her hair, lips parting, eyelashes fluttering against her skin, not quite a mockery, a lilting note of wickedness in his voice, almost mischief. He was youngest, in this way, at her side--inside her, against her skin, drowning her with his heat. The world went on around them but they usually barely made some alcove of secluded corner before he dragged her skirts up and pressed close, his presence a storm against her skin, his breath a touch as intimate as his fingers between her legs.
"Nuala..." He would sigh, almost a hiss, and she would be left drowning, wordless and gasping, making soft helpless sounds against his skin. She was no more prey than he, but he still stronger, still the instigator, the one with his hands sliding against her thighs, the one who pushed her against the wall.
But he was also the one that paused before the first kiss, his mouth a hairsbreadth away, the look in his eyes a strange and feral thing. She could feel the calluses on his hands, the muscles that work smoothly in his back, push against skin in smooth swells. She remembered the feel of them in moments when armor held them apart--that chilly bastion of war--and sank her nails into them on nights when there was nothing but the bedclothes and their sweat-slick bare skin.
And she was the one that closed the distance, even as their hands moved viciously against each other's skin, tearing fine fabric, shoving aside impenetrable armor, locking their bodies together like two pieces of a puzzle. Even if the cool moving air touched her face, even if voices reached them from far too close, she could never have waited. She could never have said no.
In those days, their need for each other eclipsed any other thing, and they could imagine no other way to live.