Ok This is another one I found hope you like. Also I don't own BMFM I only own Tempest. Enjoy. Ok I know I've posted this before but I noticed a few mistakes that I missed so here is the revised edition.
(Sex) In the Dark Room
Contrary to popular belief, it hadn't started with sex. Whatever was between them was the product of long hours of searching each other out, of learning about each other, of companionship. That's where it had started.
Friendship was going too far, because they'd never really been friends at all. If she was honest with herself, they'd gone straight from acquaintances to lovers, and friendship was still nowhere to be found. But she had always been grateful for the companionship they shared. If nothing else, the feeling that maybe she wasn't alone in the world was worth everything.
At first, it had only been kissing. Strange occurrences that neither of them objected to. Neither of them talked about it either. They'd kissed, and kissing had turned to making out in the garage, and that had turned into close encounters at the scoreboard, and she supposed they'd followed the logical path of their feelings. Or hormones. Whichever, really.
She had tried to figure out why they'd hid it the way they had. Why they were still hiding it. Like it was something to be ashamed of. And, okay, maybe it was. After all, that's why the dark room had become so important to them. It was the only place that they'd never be intruded upon, the only place that was theirs.
Tempest couldn't even remember the last time she'd come in here to develop a photograph.
As Throttle bit into her shoulder hard enough to draw blood, Tempest let her fingernails dig into Throttle's sides, biting her own lip at the excruciating ecstasy that flowed through her.
And suddenly, she remembered. It had been the day Throttle found out about the dark room. Tempest smiled to herself, tossing her head back and making Throttle groan.
Throttle drew her back for a ferocious kiss, and Tempest smiled into it. Feeling Throttle's slick body convulse above her, he pushed harder into her and Throttle trailed his way back down the side of Tempest's face to press into her neck.
Throttle was a biter. And god did Tempest love that.
As Throttle bit into her shoulder once more, Tempest remembered exactly why.
"What is this place?" Throttle demanded as he stepped into the red lit room.
"Close the door!" Tempest scolded, and Throttle quickly did as he was told. Tempest looked back at the photo in the developing solution, and frowned.
"What cha' doing?" Throttle wanted to know, shoving his hands in his pockets and wandering over towards Tempest.
"I was developing a photo." Tempest grumbled. She picked up the ruined picture out of the developing solution with her bare hand and looked at it a little closer in the light. Throttle tried to look over her shoulder.
"Nice." Tempest could tell from Throttle's tone that he couldn't really see what the picture had been, and Tempest didn't blame him. The light Throttle had let in when he entered had completely distorted the previously perfect picture. "I didn't know you took pictures."
"It pays well, if you know the right people." Tempest said offhandedly, tossing the ruined picture in the trashed and going back over to the enlarger to start over.
"Don't you mean, if you're good at it?" Throttle replied, leaning against the counter behind Tempest.
"I suppose that matters too." Tempest admitted, refocusing the image.
"I didn't even know you had a dark room." Throttle said admiration clear in his voice.
"I liked it that way." Tempest said dryly. She heard Throttle snigger behind her.
"So unsociable." Throttle commented, stepping forward and standing directly behind Tempest.
Tempest set the picture timer and pulled out the paper, ignoring Throttle's unnervingly close proximity. It was only when Throttle pressed up against her to watch over her shoulder that her hand faltered. It was only the slightest of twitches, but Throttle saw it for what it was. Tempest ignored the heat rising in her cheeks and flipped on the enlarger.
Throttle's hands found their way to the front of Tempest's jeans. "I bet I know why you didn't tell me about this place."
"It couldn't possibly be because it's the only place I can be alone." Tempest said, her voice dripping her sarcasm.
Throttle's chin came down on her shoulder. "Too easy." He whispered, and Tempest tried very hard to hold back the shiver that Throttle's voice sent through her. She heard the grin in Throttle's voice when he continued. "I know why."
His declaration was followed by a kiss pressed to Tempest's neck. And Tempest would be damned if she'd refuse the affection. Throttle was right; she hadn't told him about the dark room for a reason.
A dimly lit, humid room was the last place she wanted to be alone with Throttle Throneboy. Especially when she thought back to their last few encounters.
Throttle's hands found the pockets of her jeans, and the almost-skin contact made her suppress a groan.
"Why do you do that?" Throttle wanted to know. He hadn't pulled away from Tempest's neck, and Tempest belatedly realized she'd closed her eyes.
"Do what?" Tempest asked, twisting a little and fumbling to continue working.
"Try to ignore it." Throttle whispered, tugging on her ear. "You keep on pretending it doesn't affect you, even when we both know it does."
Tempest didn't answer. Throttle's hands in her pockets were rubbing tiny circles, and Tempest already didn't like where this was going.
"Go ahead; pretend." Throttle's voice what huskier than when she'd last heard it. "You're not fooling anyone."
"I have to-" Tempest cleared her throat, alarmed and amused at her own arousal "-finish this."
"So finish it later." Throttle demanded, and Tempest sucked in a breath as Throttle pressed against her.
"We shouldn't do this here." Tempest warned, fully aware that not only was the room light proof, but sound proof as well.
"I like breaking the rules." Throttle told her, and wasn't that the truth.
"I've noticed." Tempest admonished, and she tossed her head to the side to give Throttle better access to her neck.
Surrender. Right there, she'd done it. Any argument she put up after that was purely for show, and Throttle knew it.
Luckily for Throttle, she didn't bother putting up any further argument. Throttle turned her around, and their lips met.
Kissing Throttle always fascinated Tempest. Not because it was all that amazing, but because Throttle was so good at figuring out what Tempest wanted. Because Throttle's mouth was more than just inviting in its own right; it was something she felt like she shouldn't have, the forbidden fruit, and she was always left wanting more when Throttle stopped.
He did stop, grinding into Tempest and running his hands up her shirt while his mouth found Tempest's collarbone. Tempest let out the groan, secure in the thought that no one could hear her, and the only thing it would do was encourage Throttle.
"How do you always…" Tempest couldn't finish, thought abandoning her as Throttle's hands tugged at her waistband.
"…find you at the prefect time?" Throttle finished, his hot breath coasting across Tempest's ear. Tempest nodded, and Throttle smirked. "Just lucky I guess."
There was no more talking after that. It was a combination of quickened breathing, roaming hands and soft moans that did the talking.
They were out of their clothes before Tempest knew what hit her, and that was when it registered that there was no going back. This was going to be it, and there was nothing she could do (or would do) to stop it.
Skin against skin, she reacted in all the right ways; gasping when Throttle bit her, grinning when Throttle slammed her against the wall, and groaning when they found the floor. In a strange twist of fate and irony, it was Tempest who eventually made the first move. Hormones raging, a willing partner, Tempest had ended up on top, and that was never the way she'd seen it happening.
Of course, she supposed if she'd ever imagined being intimate with Throttle, she hadn't pictured it in her once innocent dark room, either.
They moved together, more together than they'd ever been, gasping, kissing, grabbing, and biting.
Tempest was first. It was the most memorable feeling she'd ever had, kissing and shivering and wanting to hold onto that paradise. Throttle followed her only seconds later, and paradise got even better. And they lay there, covered in sweat and other things, panting, lipping at each other's mouths.
No regret. That was the first thing that crossed her mind when she opened her eyes to stare at her lover. She saw the same things reflected in Throttle's eyes that she felt, and she grinned and Throttle grinned, and they were two grinning fools.
It was the first time, but it wouldn't be the last.
There never had been any regret, for anything they'd done to each other. They'd gotten into physical fights, beaten the living hell out of each other. They'd made love, breathed new life into each other. No regret. That was what amazed Tempest the most about her relationship with Throttle; they weren't perfect, but they didn't care. There was no regret between them. There never would be.
Throttle's fingernails dragged down her back, almost painful but not quite, and Tempest crushed their mouths together as she felt Throttle shiver and let go. Tempest released with him, marveling in the feeling of being so completely in sync with another mouse.
Throttle continued to kiss her, and Tempest made herself more comfortable on the cot that had seen more wear than either of their beds ever would. Throttle ran his hands over the welts he had made on Tempest's back with his fingernails, and Tempest gently nipped at Throttle's neck.
Even now, nearly 6 months later, there was no regret. Only feelings, and honesty, and that was just how Tempest liked it.
They weren't friends. They weren't just lovers either. They were companions, and Tempest understood why. It wasn't just the sex; it had never been the sex.
It was the understanding, the perfect balance, the ying to her yang that drew her to Throttle.
Somehow, in their exhausted pile of limbs and heat, Throttle's hand found her's. Throttle toyed with her fingers for a moment, finally bringing her hand up to kiss her palm. Tempest smiled a little at the gesture, and turned Throttle's face to kiss her.
She laid their palms flat against one another next to Throttle's head, and they kissed until they couldn't anymore. Exhausted, drained, but wholly contented, Tempest laid her head down on Throttle's shoulder and felt herself drifting even as she heard Throttle whisper.
"I think we should rename the dark room." Throttle muttered drowsily.
Curious, Tempest wondered, "To what?"
She felt the minuscule shrug Throttle attempted. "I'm not sure yet, but the dark room doesn't quite do it for me."
Tempest grinned at his words, appalled at herself for being amused by the pun. "Good thing something else does, then."
"Someone," Throttle corrected impishly. Tempest grinned, glancing up at Throttle in the red light of the dark room, and something occurred to her.
"The red room seems more fitting." She sniggered, and she saw Throttle smirk.
"The red room it is, then." He shifted a little, hugging Tempest closer.
Tempest glanced over at their hands, lying flat on top of each other. She loved everything about the red room. It was a moment of clarity she didn't see coming, but as she glanced at their hands she couldn't help but grin to herself.
She loved the red room, and the company she had in it. What was between them now was more than Tempest ever could have hoped for in a person. Throttle understood everything about her, and he didn't require any explanations.
It was good to know she wasn't alone in the world, after all.
Author's note: Ok I know Throttle's last name but I couldn't remember how to spell it. Ok please read and review but no flames. Thank you peace out.