A/N: Warning, rough sex and vulgar language.


A sharp 'bang' as the locker door slams against the wall, its owner much too tired and irritated to even properly open it up. Ten-hour long missions in the middle of a nuclear wasteland…next time Vidocq suggests something absurd like that again, she vows to march right up and tell him to shove it up his ass, regardless of whether or not Command is in the room.

"Rough day huh, Sio-chan?" Even the blonde, who usually returns to her affectionate self as soon as the AU ball's effects fade, is much more subdued than usual; both her voice and expression suggesting that of thinly concealed rage. Behind, she hears Gandhi give a slight snort, because the phrase 'rough day' might as well be the understatement of the century.

"…Doesn't matter. We finished the job, made it out in one piece." She mumbles, unclasping the helmet and breathing a sigh of relief as cold air finally floods her lungs instead of the warm, recycled oxygen that kept her alive.

Perhaps she is just slower than usual due to her tiredness, but the next thing she knows both Newton and Gandhi have disappeared, off to wash whatever grime that covered them from their bodies and then no doubt collapse into what will hopefully be at least five hours of sleep, if they're lucky. Another metal door bangs shut and she startles, the din reminding her that she isn't alone quite yet.

No…or rather, maybe it's because of that knowledge she unconsciously took her time?

Their knowledge of 'that' thing that awaits them…this wonderful, yet terrible dance they always engaged in, particularly at the end of a hard mission—and today is no exception. The sniper has long since accepted her hedonistic love for battle and its unfortunate associations with her own libido; the first few instances were wrought with guilt and shame, yet eventually she learns it is far, far easier to just give in, because as it turns out she is not the only who needs to find a way for release.

A way to remind themselves that they are, at their cores, human.

There is no warning, not even a verbal acknowledgement of some sort before she is spun around and slammed against the steel. Their armor is only half-shed but that doesn't stop him—has never stopped either of them. A half-muttered apology—"sorry"—or something, before she is consumed by his lips, his tongue thrusting greedily into her mouth and demanding a response. She moans thickly into mouth, relishing in this aggressive, animalistic-pleasure—some days, in the aftermath, she thinks they are little better than the creatures they've just slaughtered on the field.

It is hot; it's all the sniper can feel as her mind shuts down, turns off that moralistic side and focuses only on her own desires: she's been aroused since the before the battle even ended. And he knows this, is already anticipating it by the way he roughly jams his knee against her crotch, teasing her through the friction of silicon and plastic as she whines, grinding herself harder and harder.

Smug bastard; but she allows him the temporary satisfaction of holding this power over her, making her lust and want him until she completely breaks down and begs for him. For he is just as desperate, she knows because while he is tearing her suit off her neck to leave his mark, she claws at the edge of his waist, hand slipping inside to stroke that hardness that is already slippery with pre-cum and make him shudder and moan her name against her ear.

"Fuckin' tease…" He growls darkly, and bites her neck in retaliation and she cries, because it hurts dammit—how many times has she told him to be gentler—but at the same time it feels so good. Pain and pleasure…they are quite similar she's come to realize, and truth be told, maybe she deserves a little punishment. "Hnn, 'f yeh want it so bad, yeh better do more than that…" Heated digits suddenly invade her mouth, but she doesn't mind—instead she eagerly accepts, sucking and essentially fellating his fingers until they're slick with her own spit. "Oy, watch yer teeth…"

A sudden rush of chilled air against her sweaty skin, because at last he's managed to unzip the only part that really matters—

"—AH! Ah, oh god…" They've done this so many times now that he basically has it down to pat, knows the minimal amount of work required so he can gain access to her and he wastes no time in shoving his saliva-coated fingers deep inside her. At this point she has to remove her hand from his heated length in order to hold herself up against his shoulders, else she might as well just sink straight to the floor. "Sh-shit…uuuhn, more…more…!"

"Well, aren't we greedy an' impatient today…" He knows just about all her weak spots by now, where she's most sensitive and the best way to turn her into a screaming, writhing mess capable of only stuttering his name in broken syllables.

"Sh-shut, sh—aah—up, y-you—haah! Ah! Aah! Aahnn—!"

"I'm sorry, what were you sayin'?" He is grinning rather sadistically, his emeralds dark and hazy with lust as he mercilessly pumps his fingers—first two and now three—no, he is inserting a fourth and she feels like she's going to break, but god it feels so, so good, and she certainly can't deny the wetness that is leaking over his entire hand. "Yer a real mess…"

"F-Fuck you, Adam—!" She can't help but scream as he roughly toys with her clit, partly for that insult and partly because he knows she doesn't really mean it. Her lungs are burning as she heaves for air, clawing at whatever exposed patches of skin she can reach and leaving angry red marks all over.

She's not sure how much longer she can hold out, but there's no way she's going to give in first…


It's not in his usual nature to be so sadistic; but then again, there are days where it seems like the Ripper's influence stays longer than he would like. The longer the battle, the more his killing instincts are honed, those bloodied thoughts and elegant precision lasting far after the last Object falls to pieces.

Adam may be rather inexperienced and not the smoothest talker, but he wants to believe he's at least a considerate lover in making sure she's satisfied and above all, comfortable.

Jack is only interested in feeding his own hedonistic pleasures, and if you happened to come along for the ride then why not. Right now, in the team's locker room where he is relentlessly fucking the sniper with nothing but his fingers, he's not quite sure which personality is in control. True, as soon as the two other members of their platoon clear out he literally pushes her up against the wall of lockers, but he's still holding back enough to make sure she's ready first, though admittedly the thought of just thrusting straight into her had been sorely tempting.

"O-Oh…h-hurry up, I-I…can't—!" And that would be his cue, her voice suddenly shifting from irate to needy, meaning she was about to come soon. But he can't help the teasing, because the way she looks right now, half-lidded maroons glazed with lust and saliva trailing down her mouth that remains hanging open because each breath is accompanied by a desperate moan as he continues to finger-fuck her senseless. So cute…

"Aaah, Sio, you're so…adorable…" He breathes into her ear and gently nips her collarbone, adding another purplish mark amongst the many already there. As much as he regrets these thoughts afterwards, this image of her writhing in ecstasy, completely helpless and controlled only by his touch—it makes him even harder than he already is.

"Uhnn—goddammit Adam just—haahnnn—j-just fuck me already!"

She usually doesn't use such vulgar language, and his length gives a violent twitch at those crude words. Well, like they say…

"…As you wish…" Instantly his fingers retreat and before she can even register the loss something far bigger and hotter forces its way in; she screams and cries while he groans deeply in a mixture of sheer ecstasy and relief as he finally sinks his aching cock into her tight, dripping hole. It is perfect, the way she instantly comes the moment he is fully sheathed in her heat, her cum dripping out down her leg but he doesn't stop moving.

Under normal circumstances he would always allow her some time to catch her breath and rest, but this is not their usual setting. Vaguely he muses that he should give her a break, but even as he thinks this his hips are moving harder, faster, he can't stop—won't stop—body moving on automatic now as he buries himself impossibly deep inside her, twitching constantly with how close he is driving himself towards—

"—Hnng—what're you, y-you—!" When did she even—just how those fingers are even reaching underneath and firmly stroking that tiny little spot that just makes him nearly collapse and drop them both to the ground. "S-Sio—!"

"Just helping you…along…" The devil's smirk he calls it, when she's particularly pleased by something and the ancient spirit bleeds through their bond. At least she's not actually sticking her fingers up his ass, but he has a feeling the only thing stopping her is the length of her arms. Even when she's like this, sweaty and spent from her first orgasm that stubbornness remains, her refusal to simply let him have his way with her.

And he wouldn't trade anything in the world for it.

The metal is starting to creak a little louder as his thrusts get more erratic, and he prays nobody walks back in—though they've yet to be caught after all this time. Faster, deeper, more—the pleasure is blinding yet the torture of teetering on that edge is starting to be more than he can handle. Her legs have completely come off the ground at this point and instead are crossed tightly behind his waist, using the lockers for support while she meets his momentum.

"A-Ahh…do it harder, Adam—!" Her voice is getting weaker now, tired from overuse but her sentiments haven't faded in the least. He obliges the best he can, though he's amazed his legs haven't given out yet—he'd never live it down—because she is just so impossibly hot and tight around him—

"—Fuck, fuck—" There's a tremble in his voice and if he actually noticed he would be embarrassed at how vulnerable it makes him sound, but the only thing on his mind is how he's about to come right now because he sure as hell can't hold it back any longer.

'Oh Adam, my lovely vessel…did you really think you can push me out by attempting to mask your fears with pleasure?' A whisper that is neither male nor female barely registers in his mind, but the sudden flood of hypersensitivity that follows is a shock and he swears there is a tinkling of faint laughter as he is viciously pushed over that edge along with Sio, coming harder than he's ever come.

'I'll see you next time, Adam…'

There aren't any words left to describe the state they're in, crumpled in a heap on the floor and panting like animals while their bodies attempt to calm down. Their suits are a mess and so is the floor, all slippery and sticky with god-knows-what kind of fluids that are still trickling down.

He would like to stay like this forever, completely drained and satiated and nuzzling her hair but that's unrealistic; so despite his body's numerous complaints he slowly climbs to his feet and helps her up—gently now—and just a brief kiss, so she knows that he is sorry for being so aggressive and he knows that she understands (and even likes it), before they stagger towards the showers.

The locker room will be restored to its pristine state afterward—it would simply be rude and irresponsible of them to not clean up the mess—and they will rejoin their platoon mates as their normal selves, as Sio Ogura and Adam Muirhead, and once again fear Jess' tongue and laugh at Mirza's jokes and blush and stutter whenever the two of them are alone.

At least, until the next mission calls them.