Disclaimer: I don't own Netflix's "Van Helsing" or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: I recently got into "Van Helsing" and fell in love with Flesh (Phil) and the Phil x Lucky pairing. This has to do with episode 2x05 when Phil and Lucky kiss in the diner.

Warnings: sexual content, oral sex, vaginal sex, romance, first time, drama, angst.

Irenic

"How's Mohamad?"

"He's, uh, sleeping like a baby."

"A baby with a coke habit."

"Right, yeah. A baby with a coke habit."

"He's um- he's alright."

"I'm- I don't know."

"Well, keep an eye on him."

He loved his wife.

That had been the last consistent thing he'd felt before suddenly feeling nothing at all. It was the reason he'd dragged himself home while every inch of him felt like it was dying. Having no idea what was happening to him or why, but knowing deep down that he needed to be there.

It was why he hadn't killed her too.

Because in a strange, horribly twisted way, he wanted her to be free, like him. He couldn't explain why he hadn't turned her. Why he'd left her there surrounded by all the pieces of their old life. But he had. All the purpose that'd driven him to stumble up the driveway and drip red across the front carpet had faded with his immediate hunger. Maybe he wanted her to find her own way. To come to him. To seek him out so they could hunt together. But she hadn't. And frankly, after he'd slipped back out the door and into the panicking streets, he'd rarely given her a spare thought over the years. Accepting her absence from his life like the answer to a question he hadn't needed to ask.

He loved her, but she'd been prude.

It hadn't been entirely her fault. Like most buttoned up, deeply religious families, his wife had been a product of her upbringing. Something only made worse by a near crippling, inherent shyness that'd made her look like she was stuck in a permanent blush since the day he'd met her.

It had never bothered him.

Not really.

God knows he was more or less as introverted.

But there were some things that'd never sat well with him.

Like this.

She'd rarely let him do this for her.

And the times he had, she'd been too wound up to let herself enjoy it.

Worse, it'd seemed like she was just humoring him.

Waiting for it to be over so she could slip back into the baby's room and stay there.

It'd only gotten worse when their son was born.

She'd never had a problem tending to his needs. But never seemed to recognize she had her own. Or that he wanted to give her as much in return, more if she'd let him.

He still loved his wife.

But now- now he might love Lucky too.

His cock twitched in his jeans, responding to the soft, guttural sound that left her lips when he flicked her clit with his tongue and burrowed deeper between her thighs. Inhaling the musky smell that welcomed him as he teased the seam and laved inside. So focused he was barely aware his eyes had drifted closed. Forehead resting on the twitching flat of her lower belly. So gone on it already that his hips were hitching into empty air. Desperate for even phantom friction.

"Jesus, Phil...just-"

The hands in his hair tugged, rhythmic and insistent before she did it again. Exhaling a mess of base sounds that turned him on so fast his head spun.

God, he'd missed this.

The taste of a woman.

The smell.

The quiver of soft inner thighs.

The way she was making sounds above him.

The way she was barely holding it together as he patiently took her apart.

"Fuck, where have you been all my life?" Lucky groaned, laughing when her boot heel slid out from under her and sent her sliding down the wall to the ground. Nearly crushing him until he moved at the last second and folded with her. Hiking her legs up and over his shoulders before he dipped back down and attacked her in earnest. The new angle opening her up in the best possible way, even as her underwear and pants kept her ankles half-trapped. Both of them too desperate to take the time to free them.

He didn't know how to answer that. Or if she was even looking for one. So, he said nothing. Making her hips buck violently as he added a finger along side his tongue. So slick she was dripping into the crux of his palm. Breasts lush and heaving behind the thin of her shirt. Making his mouth water with all the wants they didn't have time for.

She made a high sound, voice echoing loud enough Mohammad would have heard it if he hadn't been knocked out cold with his last dose of cocaine. Maybe he still heard it. He didn't know. More to the point, he didn't care. All he cared about was this. Lucky. But mostly the way she was almost keening. Egging him on as he coaxed her higher and higher, demanding everything as she looked down at him with dark eyes. Lips parted. Hair mussed up and tacked to her skin with sweat.

Beautiful.

He felt it when she shattered. Gushing around his fingers and tongue with a startled cry. Clenching down hard enough he swore he heard the bones creak in his finger as he tongued her through it. Gentling her clit with the soft of his lip as he nosed into her thigh, breathing hard.

"Phil..."

He raised his head, licking his lips with an audible sound as she shuddered.

"Shit, you're good at that"

He smiled small, cock throbbing against his zipper before his pressed the curl of his hand against it. Leg kicking out at the burst of pleasure that resulted from the pressure. Not that he needed it. Already feeling strangely blissed out in a second-hand sort of way he didn't completely understand as she scooted out from under him. Forgetting to protest when she batted his hand away and fumbled with his zipper. Bringing it down with a rasp that rebounded off the ceiling. Knowing she could taste herself on his lips when she ducked close enough for him to steal a kiss. Then another.

He was so high on it - cheeks hot and blinking near-sightedly into the dark - that he didn't connect the way she was moving until she was suddenly straddling him. Calloused hands curling around his cock so suddenly he hiccupped. Giving him no time to even suck in a breath before she centered her hips and just- dropped.

Oh fuck.

His head knocked back against the wall.

Jesus, he'd forgotten.

Her hand was back in his hair, spiking the front as sweat started gather on his temples. The light pressure was enough for him to crack his lids again - curious. Finding her in the dark as her satisfied sigh feathered across his burning cheeks.

"There you are," she murmured, hips only just starting to move. Lifting up before easing back down again as his hands settled on either side. Instinctively urging her on. "There you are."

He couldn't help the whimper that left him. Finding God in the way she leaned back, letting him settle in her. Finding all the right angles. What worked. What didn't. What he liked. What she did. What-

He grunted, hands tightening around her hips as she lifted herself up almost all the way before sliding back down. Biting at her lower lip in a way that came across like a gut punch. Letting him know that she felt it too. That she wanted it. Maybe even needed it. Just like he did.

Somewhere outside, an animal died. Squeaking and chittering before screaming so high it almost muted itself. Then silence. A little death.

He was conscious of the way the warm feeling settled deep in his lower belly when he reached up and pulled her hair free from the bandana. Sending her auburn hair every which way - playing in the hollows of her shoulder blades - as she squirmed out of her jacket. Shirt thin and loose, highlighting the tight buds of her nipples.

Christ.

She was tight. At first almost too tight. Hyper sensitive after years of not being able to feel much of anything at all. It was the kind of feeling that kept him on edge, scared he'd embarrass himself somehow. But that eased quickly. Because she was also slick and warm - opening for him in a way that made the back of his ears heat as they started moving together.

"You need this, I can tell," she whispered, grinning down at him in that way she had. Like she was predator and prey all at once. Softly confident again since he'd caught her off guard and kissed her boldly. "How long-"

She broke off, answering her own question with quiet horror. But he just shook his head. Telling her with everything but words that it was okay even as he surged up from the wall and started thrusting into her almost violently. Chasing something that didn't have a name as his arm curled around the small of her back. Planting the other on the ground behind him, anchoring them as she moaned and went lax. Bending her back as the angle opened up again and suddenly he was gasping. Letting go of a long string of curses as-

He didn't come suddenly.

It didn't take him by surprise.

He felt it build, then break.

Cresting like a wave that'd taken decades to get to shore.

He collapsed backward, back flat on the dirty floor as she followed him down. Splayed across his chest with him still inside her as he exhaled like a sob. Coming down slowly as she murmured nonsense into the crux of his neck. Unknowingly soothing the spot Julius had sunk his teeth all those years ago.

He still loved his wife.

But for the first time since the Rising, he was willing to consider starting to let go of her ghost.

A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. This story is now complete.

Reference:

- irenic: promoting peace