Black Lagoon, Revy/Rock, smell like gunpowder and beer
There was always the smell of gunpowder and beer in the Black Lagoon. It was the first thing Rock thought of whenever he smelled that combination, either in his clothes or in the almost inevitable gun fight that broke out in the Yellow Flag Bar with Bao screaming at them about paying for damages. They were starting to mean “home” to Rock, replacing the previous scents of sake, paper and toner.
As Revy moved over him, her hips thrusting down on his hardness and welcoming him into her body again and again, Rock was distinctly aware of the scent of gunpowder that clung to her skin like an exotic perfume. The tang of metal filled his nose and danced along his tongue as he traced a drop of sweat down her neck, their breathes coming out in excited gasps and pants as they strove to remind each other that they had survived another job that had nearly cost them their lives. A few empty cans and open bottles added the yeasty stench of beer to the air as Revy proved to Rock that she was a fighter, wrestling control of their fucking away from him even while allowing him to hold her, accepting the faint bit of comfort from a man who used words as weapons instead of guns.
Rock wasn’t sure what had brought Revy to him that first time, but each time she returned to him needing to be reminded that she was alive and whole, he was happy to help her. Because some day, he hoped that she’d come to him for a slightly more selfish reason. Such as love.