Written for the KH kink meme over on LJ. Prompt was Ven/Aqua, with mention of biting, teeth, hips and possibly some anxiousness on Ven's part. (It still counts, even though it wasn't exactly anonymous to the OP and myself. XD Love you, love.)

Nevermind that I never thought I'd be able to write something like this. See what prompts do for me? Think I might be coming out of this slump I've been in for the better part of .. four months, I'd say.

Standard disclaimers apply. I own jack shit. And the title is a joke, I swear to god. BLAME LADY FUCKING GAGA.

-o-

She knows he's nervous. Can read it all over his face, the way his teeth find the inside of his bottom lip and bite down, worry at it like it might take the edge off of whatever it is he isn't saying. Whatever it is he's thinking, just so he doesn't have to say it.

But she trusts him to trust her. And he does, because she's never been anything but reliable, a friend when he needs one. And she takes that, holds it, thrives on it. Takes in the way those blue eyes flit nervously over her body as she moves above him, straddling his hips and settling, hands slipping beneath the edge of his shirt and pushing it up, up, up until his arms are free, and he's bare from the top of his shoulders to the rise of sharp hip bones. Aqua tilts her head to the side, noting just how sharp all those little protrusions are. Fingertips skim the surface, over hips and the hollow of his stomach, the cage of ribs that house the beat of his heart.

"Aqua, I don't –" But she silences him with the press of her lips against his own, not even giving him a chance to argue, to try to find a way out of it. Because on some level, she thinks they both need this, that he needs this, and would never think to ask for it, even if he could find a way around the lump in his throat that rises when he tries to ask for anything.

Her lips are soft against his, almost unassuming, and she doesn't ask for anything in return. Not yet, not when all she wants is for him to relax, and to let her in. Let her closer, draw him out of that shell he wants to stay in. "It's okay," she whispers, hoping that reassuring tone will be enough for him – and when he softens, that tension bleeding out of him in a tangible wave, she smiles against his mouth. Something light, and she slips away from him, hands once more skimming over the surface of his skin as her lips trace the line of a collarbone. Simple.

Good.

She drops a line of kisses up to the hollow of his throat, and she hears how his breath hitches when her teeth sneak out, scraping just hard enough to leave faint white lines in their wake that fade to a dusty pink when she pulls away. Ven swallows hard, and it takes a moment for him to adjust, even when he's trying to squirm out from beneath her with a small sigh that tells just how nervous he is to begin with. "You don't have to –"

"It's okay," she says again, straightening just enough to kiss him fully on the mouth again, adding that subtle scrape of her teeth over his bottom lip, and he makes some kind of noise that lingers on the back of his tongue that sounds a little bit too much like a whimper for him to be comfortable with it, but this time, he doesn't try to push her away.

Good, she thinks again, licking her lips that is almost distinctly feline, and as she begins to slip once more down the planes of his body, she pauses to shed that first layer of clothing, remaining in just her underthings. Just for now.

Her hands smooth over the tops of his thighs, the almost rough quality of his pants contrasting with the surprising smoothness of her palms, and her fingers hook into the band, a maddening little curve of her lips the only indication of what she has in mind. She licks her lips and leans forward, leaving another trail of biting kisses over the rise of a hipbone, watching out of the corner of her eye as pale skin darkens the faintest bit. Her teeth are sharp, and with the way Ven is squirming subtly beneath her, breaths coming in short pants, she doesn't think he minds too much.

She sucks a mark to life just beneath his navel, and he gasps, brings a hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to mask the sound. Purring against his skin, she drags her tongue up the very middle of his breastbone up to his throat, ignoring the fact that he's grabbing for her, trying to pull her up for a proper kiss – and her teeth close around the steady beat of his pulse, the subtle spice of his skin bursting on the tip of her tongue. Setting something like wildfire to coursing through her veins with the sound he makes, almost like a startled sob into a bare shoulder.

His fingernails carve shallow gouges up the line of her spine, and she arches into the slight sting of it, something of her own muffled little groan fighting its way through tightly clenched teeth as she straightens. Much to the dismay of those narrow hips trying to rock against her, the fingers that curl around her ribs to try to hold her in place. She smiles, a wicked thing, flashing those sharp teeth as she leans back and sheds the remainder of her clothing, all sleek, easy movement and the brush of slate-colored hair out of her eyes.

His chest is heaving, breathing labored as he lifts his own hips to aid in the removal of his pants, and she pauses again to leave a small mark at the bend of a knee. Another midway up the inside of his thigh, though it's a little deeper than the ones that have come before it, bearing the faint impression of her teeth that blend a little too well with the melding of pink and cream. Her nails flex over his thighs, and she's straddling him again, holding herself up just enough to not allow him to get the friction he so desperately wants just from her being that close.

He looks up at her, blue eyes almost pleading. "Aqua …"

And she's back to that soft smile again, combing gentle fingers through blond hair as she lowers herself onto him, teeth burying into the swell of her bottom lip, eyes fluttering closed. Her hands are braced on his stomach, offering just enough leverage to rock against him, sheathing him in the kind of heat that feels too much like a charged-up fire spell. Ven moans, high and sharp, and she lets her mouth fall open with a soft exhalation of her own that seems almost a mockery of what she usually gives over.

Forward and back, and she's so lost in it that she almost doesn't realize when he raises up, arms circling around her waist and tugging her that little bit closer, possessed of a new brand of boldness that she's never seen in him before. His teeth find her shoulder, and she's almost surprised when she feels the distinct pop of skin splitting, the stinging bit of pain paired with the tangible scent of copper filtering up to her nose. That's when she breaks, falling apart with one last shaking roll of her hips to meet the upward movement of his, fingers curling so tight around the back of his neck that they're sure to leave bruises, however faint.

She sighs, murmurs his name – and he laps at the blood welling up in the impression of his teeth left in pale skin like he was meant to do nothing else.