It was always raining when she had her rare moments of realization and understanding.
Sometimes it was barely drizzling, more like a mist hanging over everything, making her body sticky and causing her hair to frizz slightly.
His hair remained perfectly smooth and glossy...and that pissed her off to no end.
Sometimes it was a moderately heavy rain – water droplets hanging off the tip of her nose...the edges of his elegantly sculptured features. It could be a light coating of rain wrapping itself around their bodies, and soaking through the top layers of their clothing.
But this rain, this downpour, was torrential. It beat against their bodies with an unforgiving force as they continued their spar...which was really more like a dance. They had practiced this routine so many times that it was almost as easy as breathing. She could nearly foresee the moment that his leg would swing out to knock her off-balance; he could always tell when she was bracing herself for an attack.
She would have to work on that.
The rain was violent, battering against them with a fervor that nearly rivaled their own. Water splashed beneath their boots, surging upward from the fresh puddles into fans of clear, beaded moisture, soaking through her Atlesian military uniform all the way to the skin, and settling a chill in her bones.
This man was unbelievable, dripping from every angle and curve, yet managing to keep his eyes wide and all-seeing, even through the thick sheets of nearly sideways precipitation. Meanwhile, she struggled just to see at all, and maintain her footing in the quickly forming mud that was causing their silver combat boots to sink into the wet earth.
Whipping the back of her gloved wrist across her eyes to remove the offensive liquid, her white-blonde bangs plastered themselves to the sides of her temples, steel-blue orbs squinting tightly against the elements as she blocked another kick from his direction.
Like needles, the freezing liquid pounded down on them, as if the drops were razor-sharp. They chilled her body, soaking her colorless hair, causing each strand to stick messily to her face and neck as a few fell from the thick bun atop her crown. Drops of water dripped down her arms and rolled off the tips of her fingers, whereas others fell from her eyelashes, nearly blinding her sight. Her breathing was labored and she gasped harshly, but quietly in order to remain calm and refrain from choking on the rain at her lips.
It felt as if she didn't have fingers when she went in for her next attack, only to be stopped by a pale grip about her wrist as their bodies came together in a waltz of jabs and blocks - having discarded their weapons in favor of hand-to-hand-style combat.
Qrow immediately pulled back and charged again with a rush she had never seen before in their spars. His crimson eyes unsettled her; they didn't even blink through the rain, or during the hard slash he slammed toward her.
Winter somersaulted away, landing on the other side of him, avoiding, with a small surge of aura, the slip her feet gave while settling on a plot of wet ground. The drenched earth turned slick beneath her feet as the dirty puddle seeped around her boots. The look on her face urged Qrow to come forward, and he abided by her wishes with pleasure, as the rain washed off their muddy hands and knees. An explosion of water erupted between them when their arms and hands locked again.
Winter roared loudly, beginning to pummel him with swift kicks to his outer thighs. They hit the target, but she hadn't expected him to counter by twisting his foot with her other leg, tripping her cleanly on her back.
The muddy puddle of water was ice cold and she rolled out of the way just in time to avoid his other boot. Quickly, she brought her leg around and handicapped him. He collapsed onto the filthy ground beside her, but was still able to retain his attacking intent. Rushing to his knees ferociously, he gave her a mighty slash, and one of Winter's arms nearly fell useless at her side with the force of the scissoring jab – nerves singing in pain.
Mouth slackening in shock and anger, Winter pulled herself up to her feet and aimed her fist straight for his shoulder. Qrow dodged it by tilting his upper body to the side; he grabbed her arm shortly afterward and brought her down once more.
She spit out mud; her hair was matted into grimy disarray. Her entire body was caked with rain and sludge.
He brought his elbow down toward her fiercely, and she was able to block the assault just in time with her crossed wrists—but she buckled under the pressure and fell back from her knees.
A splatter of filth washed over them, covering them in fresh muck. Winter had been putting up a long and worthy fight, but now this was the end - the deciding move. Her steely blue eyes bore into his, burning like a flash of lightning through the rain and mud.
With grimy, gloved hands, Winter's fist connected powerfully to the side of Qrow's face and he was forced sideways. Breathing hastily from the loss of energy and aura, both of them found it hard to get up from the mud trap that suctioned them to the ground. Barely on their knees, Qrow and Winter pushed themselves forward toward each other to finish the match and determine the victor.
From the lack of coordination and the endless downpour, they executed a clumsy and sloppy spar that took place on hands and knees - a grappling match of sorts.
Elbowing him in the stomach, Winter caught a glimpse of Qrow's gritted teeth. He threw her down into the mud, but she yanked him with her. The fingers of Qrow's left hand were embedded in the dirt somewhere beside her head, and she was the only one with two free hands. In their caked mass of filth, Winter grinned widely at him, rolling them over and pressing her body weight down onto his in an awkward straddle of hips, rendering him unable to break free.
"Checkmate…" She gasped out, her face only a few short inches from his own.
Despite the cold battering of rain, she could feel his warm breath on the mud-splattered skin of her throat. The heat between their bodies became evident and increased with the prolonged contact. Qrow tensed considerably; his mouth set into a stony, grim line.
"Admit it, Qrow..." Winter said, applying more pressure to ensure his incapacitation, her warm breath ghosting over his cheek.
Qrow quirked his lips lightly as he took in her stubborn smile.
"You win this one…" he finally let out with a soft sigh of both defeat and amusement.
That night had been a particularly lonely one…and an even more shameful one.
2a.m. had found her in twisted grey sheets, arms thrown over her head in exasperation, as she attempted to locate a sleep that would not come, regardless of the outrageous fatigue that ached through her bones and sinew from the monstrous spar with the insufferable Branwen.
Running an empty, long-fingered hand through her damp, wavy hair, she sighed deeply in her chest, staring up at the plain ivory ceiling of her secluded bedroom. Her other hand shoved the tangerine-hued comforter and mercury-colored sheets from her form in frustration.
She allowed her eyes to close slowly, just wishing silently that she could find something else that would ease her restlessness and soothe her agitation...anything but this.
Tugging marginally to straighten the thin cotton fabric of her white tank-top, she loosened the offensive garment, tossing it over her head onto some undetermined spot on the thick grey rug below. She sank into the plush mattress of the small inn's bed, trying to push away the unwelcome memories of the spar from her already exhausted mind, as she fought against the warmth growing in her chest – struggling to discover a slumber that wouldn't show itself.
Her bare torso shivered against the cool night air from her open window, the dense, waterproof screen enough to keep the rain from entering her bedroom, though the gale prevailed, billowing her ivory drapes in a blustery dance beside her bed. The rosy buds tautened atop her chest at the chill that quivered through her – and goddammit if she didn't suddenly need this more than anything else at that instant.
Her breaths emanated in long, yet severed puffs, and she slipped her blue-grey eyes sealed once more, as her pale, nimble fingers brushed gently over those snug buds on her chest. Her opposite hand found its way beneath her black spandex shorts, shoving them down to her knees, allowing the cold air to hit her pulsing heat with a jolt, before those lithe digits skated along her damp folds with teasing insistence.
It had been a very long time since she had felt the need to do this – to work her body into a vicious fervor in order to sleep – and she felt no small amount of guilt at her intentions.
Her stomach was taut and lean, tight from years of weapons mastery and combat training, and she groaned quietly as her own fingertips slithered carefully along the dips and curves of each delicate swell of muscle and bone beneath ivory flesh.
Apparitions of indistinct olive flesh and dark hair seared behind her lids – images of a body tougher and broader than her own descending mercilessly against her trembling hips, solid muscles sliding with delicious contact against her abdomen…
She could do nothing but whimper helplessly as she thoughtlessly skimmed her fingers over her sex, charging forward in her thoughtless reverie, her digits plunging past her folds to enter slick, scorching heat.
Without wasting a moment, those fingertips trailed slowly back up to her pearl, crossing her folds to work it in slow circles, before slipping them past the tight ring of muscles once more. She drew a sharp breath to keep from falling over the edge too soon, but managed to pacify the beast within for the time being.
A deep groan slid past her chapped lips, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, teeth latching onto her lower lip, as she breached herself once more – walls practically begging to be ravaged, though not by her own fingers.
Her knees parted, feet kicking off the shorts that had pooled at her ankles, spreading herself wide open, as her fingers worked hastily to press and pull her walls loose for a length that would never enter…but that did not occur to her at the moment. The only thing that mattered was that bleached warmth assembling in her gut, scattering through her body in little tremors, causing her frame to shudder with dreadful excitement.
A fantasy of crimson eyes, a burning tongue sliding over her stretched throat, and dense hardness prodding at her entrance made her hasten her efforts to bring herself to completion as rapidly as possible. She whined pathetically as her fingers lurched with inconsistent strokes over her pearl, the other hand's digits dipping and curling as she searched desperately for that internal sweet-spot, mere buzzes of how she imagined the real thing would be.
"Oh…fuck…"
A condemning name fell from her lips in a whisper, as she strained to sustain some semblance of a cadence between her shaking fingers on her pearl and twisting digits in her heat. Her legs were thrown open, revealing every centimeter of her bare body to the night as the wind surged over her in waves from the open window. Her knees rose off the bed as she pulled them wider, spreading herself further, and her long fingers pressed unbearably deep.
Her eyes snapped open, startled blue flashing and a strangled cry falling from her lips, as her middle finger scraped against that bundle of nerves within, directing a rapid, devastating shock of intense fire down her spine. She stretched over and over for that same spot, striking it with greater purpose than before, her body twitching and squirming with such a fantastic torture.
She could no longer muffle her murmurs and whimpers as she rocked her hips forward, impaling herself on her fingers. She shoved them back into her body to stab her sweet spot bitterly, nearly her undoing. But something kept her right at that edge, a mere moment from tilting over and sinking into an astonishing orgasm.
She growled with impatience, whimpering as she struggled to accomplish that crowning moment; piercing, wounding, shaking, and shoving herself with uncaring recklessness.
Snarling in exasperation, she then cried out softly into her shoulder as she plunged her fingers back through the now pliant muscles, her left hand continuing its hurried speed. She struggled urgently to choose whether she desired to push her hips down against the questing digits or upward into the fingers working her pearl.
With one conclusive judgment, she speared vehemently at her heat, propelling her hips upward with a sobbing gasp, shameful tears leaking from her tired eyes as she tightened violently around the fingers within her.
She could not stop the quakes from shaking her body, her shoulders trembling with both the force of the orgasm and the pent up emotions that poured from her draining eyes. She pulled her hand swiftly from her sex, smashing it down onto the soiled mattress to secure herself from the power of her release.
But the man she had fantasized about was nowhere to be found…far away from her at that moment, as he most likely slept in his bed across the hall. She didn't know if he would return the sentiment, and it was killing her inside, even as she slowly withdrew back from her peak.
She crawled shakily beneath the stained sheets once more – exhaustion taking over as she buckled into a shattered bundle – jerking the comforter over her bare, quaking form.
Clinging to the darkness as if her life somehow depended upon it, she could hold back the torrents of emotion no longer, spilling them with muffled, angry sobs into the pillow beneath her head. Scorching, pouring tears streamed from her steel-blue eyes, soaking into the pillowcase below, as her body shook with sobs of both isolation and disenchantment. Why did it have to be him...of all the men in the world.
"Dammit…Qrow…"
She didn't know when she had stopped seeing him as just an annoying, drunk problem that plagued her with his mere presence.
She also didn't know if she really wanted to remember, if she could.
All she knew was that, at some point, their confrontations took on an almost electric aura, and flesh brushing flesh hurt in ways with which she was terribly unfamiliar.
Qrow had always been unfailingly direct to those he encountered, yet he had somehow managed to stay far out of everyone's immediate reach. He had always been emotionally unavailable, so distant that even if she had reached her arm out over the one-foot gap between their bodies, she wouldn't have made contact, not really. The distance between them stretched wider than she could fathom, making it impossible to even see across to the opposite side of the abyss. The unreadable man had grown into a lethal portrait of fatal attraction, and she knew that any feelings she might harbor for Qrow Branwen were as good as non-existent.
She understood that she would probably never see any further below that finely crafted façade, that he had been constructing and reinforcing since long before they had even met. Those deep, wine-colored eyes, so piercing with their calculating stare, had always seemed so invasive - as if he could sense every thought in her troubled mind, without ever revealing a single piece of himself in the process.
Part of her was made uncomfortable by the unfair advantage he always seemed to possess, but then, over the years, she had begun to realize that his closed-off heart wasn't really a positive quality at all. There was no reason why someone should have to do everything alone, and she knew he cared...he merely allowed no one to care for him.
"Somethin' botherin' you?"
She managed to catch the falter in her swing, reconnecting the dual-weapons into her one, original sword, as she prepared to undercut the next strike of his scythe.
"N-No!" she stated, fake derisive laughter bubbling up and out, her thoughts reforming once more to the spar in which she currently participated, "What idiotic notion gave you that idea?"
Another blow was avoided as she swung her sword high over the top of her head, to avoid a drop kick from above. His booted heel landed against the center of the weapon, and she pressed her weight forward to shove him back. As his feet landed quietly back upon the polished floor, that rich voice reached her ears once more.
"Your form is off; your reaction time is slowed; your footing is shaky; and you haven't really spoken a word to me outside of protocol since this mission started...need I continue?"
She blinked, frowning slightly, as she deflected his left fist, before it could deal a harsh smash to her right temple - his scythe returned to its sword-form and sheathed at his back, transitioning to a brawling style. His speed was increasing, causing her to compensate by sheathing her weapon and rely heavily on her reflexive combat abilities. Their hands were a blur: blocking, punching, swiping, and gripping. She felt a light sheen of sweat building on her flesh, her heart rate accelerating as she struggled to keep up.
"Don't worry about it. It's nothing that should concern you..." she muttered, breathing roughly.
She noticed his brow twitch, heated gaze still dormant, as crimson eyes flashed to her own in an appraising fashion. Then, an unexpected swipe of his feet threw her off balance, her back hitting the floor hard enough to knock the wind out of her lungs in a heavy rush, before she back-rolled out of the vulnerable angle, uncurling her body to an erect standing position.
Before she could react, powerful palms slammed her thin, gloved wrists to the wall at her back with enough force to incapacitate, but not enough to bruise. A corded, trouser-clad thigh came between her own to immobilize her legs, and she found her bare shoulders scraping against the worn wood of the dilapidated sunroom. She couldn't stop her fractured gasp, as the air was knocked back into her lungs. Before she could blink the stars from her eyes, as her head cracked against the wall at her back, she felt angry breath gust over her forehead, and clipped words met her ears.
"What is it that has you so off your game, Winter?! Can you not trust me with it? I'm your mission partern for God's sake; if you can't trust me then who the hell can you trust?"
His eyes were cold and invasive, bearing into her own with such intensity that she nearly had to look away, eyelashes fluttering as she attempted to fend off the harsh aura the man was emitting. A tightening about her gloved wrists brought her attention back to that pair of eyes once more.
"Do not look away from me, Schnee."
She clenched her jaw proudly and swallowed thickly, fighting to make sense of the thoughts in her head as she tried to decide what the best thing to say would be. This situation was a dangerous one that she had no desire to linger in for any longer than was required.
Qrow could take down a full grown man with one hand, but she wasn't afraid of him because of his ability to physically hurt her. She was terrified that the longer he looked into her overly-expressive eyes, he would see something that she wasn't ready for him to see - something that was better left where it lay buried away from his awareness.
"Qrow...stop it. This isn't going to solve anything. I'm fine-"
"Bullshit!"
She froze at the word that fell from his lips, laced with irritation and concern. She had heard Qrow truly curse a grand total of three times since they had met, and to hear such language coming from him...she wondered if it wouldn't be a good idea to come up with a really well-formed lie to get herself out of there quickly, before things went too far and became violent.
"Qrow...please..."
His cool, lithe fingers tightened further around her wrists, nearly numbing her hands with the force behind them. She wiggled her slender fingers a bit to keep feeling in her digits, her eyes scanning the contours of his face. Qrow's jaw twitched slightly, no doubt from tension, before he narrowed his eyes marginally.
"What did old Jimmy Ironwood do this time?"
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, "What? No! He didn't do anything..."
"Then what did I do? Because we're the only two people you've had any interaction with in the last week."
Silence fell, and she knew that he knew that this was getting a little too close for comfort.
"Qrow...you didn't do anything," she said with a sigh, her body trembling slightly, as she began to work up enough energy to try to make a break for it.
She knew it would be a stupid idea to run, because Qrow was equally as fast as she. However, she couldn't stand the atmosphere that the room had taken on, so heavy and oppressive with tension. She met his eyes again, startled slightly by what she saw.
Presented to her were deep vermillion orbs that searched her face for clues, chipping at the mask she had crafted over the years. Those eyes were filled with several emotions: frustration, concern, exhaustion...but what finally caused her own eyes to widen was the presence of a strained confusion as it slowly transitioned to a relative understanding.
"No...you're right. I didn't do anything..."
"Huh?"
The word fell stupidly from her slack lips, and she wished it hadn't sounded so breathy and weak.
His eyes hardened once more as he spoke, "It's somethin' I didn't do...or somethin' I'm not doin', that you feel I should be…"
A flash of panic shot through her as she blinked rapidly, waving her hands against the hold that had loosened marginally, but still refused to relent.
"No, Qrow...stop worrying about it. I'm telling you, it's not-"
"Winter."
Her name, spoken from those pale lips with such concern and authority, caused her to freeze her flailing and stare.
Qrow's brows had drawn together in a deep frown, eyes narrowing, as he began to search her own once more.
She didn't know why he still intimidated her, even into her adult years, but there was just something about those eyes that made her quake inside like a frightened little civilian child who had gotten caught in the crossfire of a war.
Qrow had the innate power to read people, even without the use of those enchanting eyes, and there was something about the way they pierced through every defense that she had ever taken the time to construct, that made her want to punch his face in and kiss him senseless simultaneously.
Those long, nimble fingers loosened around her wrists, callused palms sliding gently down her gloved forearms, before allowing said limbs to drop uselessly at her narrow sides. The gentle slide of his hands sent fire down her spine, adrenaline licking at her heart as they came to lazily grip her elbows, as if to keep her torso straight – facing him head-on.
"What is it, Winter? What did I do this time?"
His voice was filled with such honest worry that she practically felt like crying.
"God, Qrow…I just don't understand what I'm doing here anymore."
His expression loosened slightly in pure confusion, and the tilt of his head reminded Winter of a curious puppy.
"What…?"
Winter felt that fear replace itself with anger and pure frustration at his ignorance – no matter how attractive he was in that moment. She was so busy mouthing-off to him that she missed the moment of realization as it crossed his features with a soft parting of lips.
"This has gotten so frustrating, and you are so frustrating that I don't know how I am supposed to-"
The words perished in her throat as a scorching mouth descended upon her own, stifling her fretfulness and bringing tears of surprise to her eyes. Rough, insistent lips folded over her own, and she couldn't keep her hands to herself any longer.
Her gloved palms closed around the front of his shirt, unconsciously jerking him forward and pressing their bodies closer. Her lips parted, a tongue curling against his own with a heat that pulled a soft whimper from her chest.
That sound seemed to kindle something within him, as his right hand moved to close over her throat, squeezing just roughly enough to cause her to swell with arousal. Warmth blossomed in her belly, as he angled her head backward, slanting her mouth in a seamless arrangement with his own.
Winter felt as if she were losing her mind, so much warmth, and breath and, fuck – Qrow was right there!
Then his mouth broke away from her own, just as she rocked her hips forward to press harshly against the ones before her, and his hot breath washed over her cheek.
"How long…?"
She had to shake the haze from her brain in order to process his question, but once she did, she flushed scarlet. Her fingers loosened their grip at his shirt, but didn't drop away – as if she were afraid to relinquish that contact…that he would pull away and leave her there.
"I lost track after a while…"
She couldn't tell if the sagging of his shoulders and weary draft of breath against her temple was because he was relieved or disappointed, and she didn't have the courage to glance into his eyes to confirm. She felt anxiety curl in her belly once more, as that hand at her throat loosened and dropped away, the other at her elbow sliding down to her narrow wrist in a slack, unassuming grip. Her breathing stilled and her heart clenched as that touch finally fell away, gliding to gently remove her hands from the front of his shirt – and she wasn't sure what it meant, but she didn't like it.
Then that voice was back at her ear, though this time there was distance between them, and no part of him touched her but the words from his lips – not even the breath that had been there before.
"Winter…I have always cared about you. You know this, right?"
Shame and the sting of rejection began to tighten her chest and coil in her stomach, but she nodded weakly in response – hands clenched in his loose grip.
"Then you should also be aware that I would never want to do anything to really hurt you. You are practically one of my teammates, and one of the closest people that I have to call a friend."
Her breath hitched at the statement, but she remained silent – afraid to shatter the moment – and she didn't know what to expect next.
"Winter…if you need somethin'…anything at all…even it if is just one night, I can give that to you."
She felt her heart skip, her stomach lurch, and her brain short-circuit all in the same instant. She couldn't decide if she felt ecstatic at the prospect that he was willing to be with her – or if she was wounded at the emphasis he had put on the fact that it would only be a one-time thing.
"So…basically…what you're telling me is that...well, you wouldn't mind having sex with me, but you can't make a habit of it. Is that it?"
She heard his breath catch slightly, but before he could respond, she continued without missing a beat.
"So what is this, a pity fuck, Qrow? You bed me because you feel sorry for the poor little abused girl that fell for you, because you're sorry you can't return her feelings and you think she needs some sort of closure? Am I correct?"
Now she dared to meet his eyes, and what she saw made her heart clench once more. There was so much sadness, disappointment, and shame within those crimson orbs – such a degree of emotion that she had longed to see within them, though not the ones she had hoped for in the end.
Well…I guess beggars can't be choosers, now can they, Winter? Do you want him to feel strongly about something, even if it happens to be the opposite of what you wanted, or do you want him to just continue going about his ways in an unfeeling manner – not giving a shit about what happens to, or around, him?
"It would never be a 'pity fuck', as you so eloquently put it, Winter. I have far more respect for you than to dishonor you in that way. But I also have enough respect for you to let you know that it wouldn't work out between us in the long-run, even though I do care for you the same way I think you care for me."
Her blue eyes shot to his own once more, not having even realized that they had drifted to the trembling, clenched fingers at his sides.
Did he just say…?
Her frown deepened to match his own, as she turned over her shoulder and smashed her fist into the wall with enough force to crack the wood, "Then why the hell didn't you say something sooner?"
There was a beat of silence, before she felt the weight of one of his warm palms against her shoulder – squeezing gently in response, "Because, as I previously stated, I'm already aware that a lasting relationship between us would never work. You're daddy has you betrothed to some upscale, uptight asshole. I'm sure it's nothin' more than a company merger or deal, but goin' against that - openly challenging it, even - that would bring so many burdens onto you that I couldn't live with myself for it."
Those words were filled with such heavy sadness that she had to take a breath of her own. She had never heard such emotion in his voice before, and the depth of it broke her heart. She wouldn't even pretend to understand what it meant to be like Qrow Branwen - someone who had already lost so much, fighting for his position and freedom to change. She knew he held such a burden, and that it would be sorely unfair of her to judge him in that instance.
That was when she knew that he was offering her something that could very well ruin his position in the already precariously-fitted alliance between Atlas and Vale that they all had worked so hard to gain. He was willing to risk the blame and potential reprimand should anyone find out about his wayward actions with the eldest Schnee heiress.
"I can't do that to you, Qrow. I can't put you at such risk…just because I…it's not fair to you. And I won't compromise you like that."
Her words had a hint of finality in them that seemed to be strained even to her own ears, and she knew that he didn't miss that inflection either. She knew that he knew that she was full of shit, and chickening-out in her own roundabout way - just like she always did. But she also knew that, if she was being completely honest with herself, she really didn't want him to suffer on her account.
She really did love him…
She looked up into those blood-hued orbs, shining at her with such emotion that she nearly started crying right there. But she was stronger than that, and slid out of the space between his tall form and the wall in one fluid motion.
"I may love you Qrow, but I don't require you to reciprocate. I'll be okay. I'm a big girl now."
She didn't miss the stiffening in his shoulders, as she peered back at him over her own. But she couldn't dwell on it. She had to get out before her resolve broke and she changed her mind.
So, with a heavy heart and a deep breath, she took that first step out of the room and away from her dream – feeling the hot, salty tears on her cheeks before she even saw them blur her vision.
To say that dinner was a tense affair would have been an understatement.
To Winter, it felt as if everything Qrow did unknowingly provoked a response from her – and she didn't like that. It made her feel like a desperate, hormonal teenager, and she couldn't help but feel disgusted with herself.
Every time his hands moved to grip his cup of steaming tea – those slender, pale digits grasping the ceramic mug with a gentleness that contradicted his true strength and the danger in those hands...
Every time those thin, ashen lips parted around the rim of the beverage container – warm breaths interrupting the curls of even hotter steam above the piping hot liquid…
Every time those broad, toned shoulders wilted in relaxation at the first sip, whipcord muscles of his biceps and forearms flexing and contracting, as he worked the tension from his torso…
And eventually it was too much.
Winter took a final bite of her meal, a finishing drag of her tea, and stood from her seated position – exiting the room without a word.
Goddamn him for having this effect on me; and goddamn me for allowing him to…
Thrashing the door to her quarters open, she braced a forearm against the frame, taking a huge, cleansing breath to cool her nerves – before entering the small room, and slamming the door shut behind her.
This was not becoming of her, and she was furious with herself for allowing it, but she was burning to a degree of need she had never before felt. She tore through her small guest chamber and shoved through the sliding door to the bathroom. Her breathing was labored as she braced her palms against the white porcelain edge of the claw-foot tub, struggling to control the embers that sparked and popped within her, threatening to ignite into a flame so potent and large that it would likely destroy her.
Reaching forward, she yanked the knob to the left – torrents of cool water flooding from the tall spigot on the wall above, as she yanked the curtain closed once more. She stood to her full height, taking another calming breath, and moved her callused digits to the button on her military coat, dragging it downward to part the two polyester sides. She shrugged the garment from her shoulders, before tossing it, with her gloves, to the corner of the room, by the door.
She quickly tugged her boots from her feet, pitching them onto the rack by the sink, and worked the pins from the bun atop her head. As the waves of white silk tumbled to her shoulders, she felt her breath shatter across her lips and her heart clenched once more.
She took another moment to right herself, before reaching for the hem of her sleeveless vest and white blouse, jerking them swiftly over her head and flinging them to join her coat across the room. Without further hesitation, she reached back and unclasped the 3 hooks on her simple, white bra, shrugging the straps from her shoulders and throwing it into the pile as well.
Her callused fingers wasted no time in relocating to her now bare breasts, stroking gently over the tight buds there – feeling the cinders crackle and sizzle again in her gut at the action. She allowed a soft sigh to fall from her lips as her other hand glided downward past the button and zipper of her white leggings and cotton panties. Her body jerked slightly as her fingertips skidded over her swollen pearl – God, I'm already like this? Is this what he does to me…even in my head?
Before she could regret her choice not to take him up on his offer, she jerked the remaining clothing down her hips and thighs, allowing it to pool at her ankles, before she kicked them somewhere behind her – uncaring of where they landed this time. She lashed the curtain open, stepping into the now-scalding spray of the shower, and she drew her breath again, fingers taking up residence at her womanhood.
A few slow strokes had brought her to the edge once more – this was happening faster than any of her other times had. She found herself bracing a hand against the faucet-edge of the tub below the dials, to avoid tearing down the curtain, and sunk quickly to her knees beneath the spray. She fought not to lose her breath beneath the cascade of water that pummeled against her gasping mouth, and she finally had to concede – dipping her sharp chin to her chest, away from the deluge. She slammed her left hand down into the inch of standing water collected against the shower floor – since she had forgotten to unplug the stopper – she felt herself bow over. Groans and whines of desperate sensation fell from her parted lips, echoing off of the shower walls around her – sounding pitiable to her own ears.
The hot water plastered her hair to her face, neck, and shoulders – like curled paper – and she allowed her tears to fall freely into the streams of shower-water down her cheeks. Her fingers were desperate and reckless at her sex, and she nearly growled in frustration when her release tickled at the edges of her senses, before slipping away once more – causing her to double her efforts. Her digits curled against the porcelain of the tub floor, and she began to sob into the spray, as she sought out that climb once more, only to turn up empty-handed.
She slapped her free hand against the floor in irritation, clenching her teeth and spreading her thighs wider to accommodate her long fingers once more. Just as she prepared to spear herself onto 3 digits at once, she felt a shift in the air around her.
She didn't have time to react, before there was a weight at her back and a hand covering her own at her sex. She startled, a sharp gasp falling from her lips, as two longer, broader fingers took the place of her own, sliding into her womanhood with a lack of uncertainty that astonished her. She felt heat at her back, encompassing her shoulders, and a strong palm flattened against her belly to pull her torso against that broad chest.
She felt her knees give out, as she was slipped into a sitting position, her weight shifted to lean backward against that solid form behind her, those digits sliding deeper within her. A dark groan was dragged from her lips at the intrusion, and the hand that had flattened against her belly to reposition her, now slid to knock her knees apart – spreading her wide and allowing for a third finger to be added to the two that were already working her into a frenzy. She felt her own hand unconsciously speed up on her pearl, shattered sobs and gasps dropping from her lips, as that previously elusive release seemed to slam into her abruptly.
Her walls clenched around the digits within, abdominal muscles jerking and twitching, as she arched her back against the sensation – drinking it in like a parched animal lost in the desert.
As she drew down from the high, she felt a gentle pair of lips press chastely against her left temple, and she finally reacted.
Her blue eyes flew wide, lungs clenching in her chest, and she turned over her shoulder so quickly that the fingers within her had no time to dislodge – instead, they jabbed against something deeper within her that made her toes curl and her body shiver with need once more. She struggled to shake off the haze in her mind, and blinked rapidly to focus her cobalt eyes on the crimson orbs before her.
When she was finally able to take stock of him, she felt her jaw drop stupidly, and her eyes grow wider than they had probably ever been.
She hadn't noticed him at all – when had the door opened, the curtain drawn, and when had he stepped inside?
He reclined back against the curve of the tub, pale torso taking on a nearly ashen hue in the dim light behind the curtain. She didn't even have time to appreciate the beauty that was a naked Qrow Branwen before he made his next move.
His free hand – the one that wasn't pressing and crooking 3 fingers within her still-twitching sex – rose to cup the right curve of her jaw, guiding her mouth to his own in a scorching crash of burning lips and tongue.
Winter proceeded to lose all further thought processes.
She let her right hand travel down the Branwen's slick, naked chest – the taut muscles flexing and contracting, as she lifted her other hand to run through dark, wet strands of midnight hair.
Her hands were slow and steady as they traced scars that she had seen put there and others that she had not yet heard the story of – his mouth folding over her own once more; tongue flicking over the seam of her lips in a manner that left her weaker than before.
She felt her fingers tingle, but got the feeling that the two of them were still, somehow, miles apart, regardless of proximity. Her brows furrowed slightly, vision blurring as she clenched her left fist in the loosely draped fan of his dark hair, scrunching her eyes closed for a moment, before her right hand made its way to his perfectly sculpted face.
Brushing her fingertips against the curves and angles of his features, she opened her eyes slowly and broke the war between their mouths, feeling the moisture gathering against her lower lids. One tear managed to gain enough volume to roll down her left cheek, sliding quickly to her jaw, as she ducked her chin to her chest in shame, allowing the falling water to wash it away.
"Don't hide from me..."
The words were whispered against her temple, sending a small shiver down her spine as those nimble fingers skimmed their way up her shoulders. She sighed against his throat, a soft hitch in her breath the only warning before a strangled sob forced its way from her lips, barely holding back a rogue whine that threatened to follow closely behind. Her fingers tightened their grip on the dark strands of his umber hair, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried desperately to hold her emotions at bay.
Squeezing her eyes more firmly shut, her moist lashes brushed her cheeks, dampening them with her tears as they ran freely over her face.
But, as if he were able to read her like an open book, long, rough fingers crooked within her – stealing her breath and drawing another shiver from her – before they withdrew. Those strong hands moved to her flared hips, pulling them forward as powerful thighs kicked her own slender ones open wider. Then that breath was flowing over her lips once more.
"I do not appreciate that you declined my offer from earlier this afternoon…"
She could tell that there was a definite hitch in his words, and her eyes widened as she realized his intentions.
"Qrow–"
"Shhh…" one of his hands abandoned its place at her hip for a moment to press a single digit to her protesting lips, "before you foolishly attempt to tell me that this is wrong, or that you can't 'do this to me', answer me one question."
Her eyes blinked in confusion, body shivering above him – those broad hands squeezing firmly at her hips. A soft thumb rubbed torturous circles into the sensitive area where thigh met groin. She struggled to pay attention, but found her body frozen at his next words.
"Were you thinkin' of me last night – when you got yourself off so frantically?"
She couldn't believe what she was hearing – Qrow Branwen was asking her such a salacious, delicate, taboo question, as he poised her over his obviously stiff arousal, and touched her in ways that made her lose all sense.
She could do nothing but nod helplessly, fresh tears springing to her eyes as she allowed them to slip shut.
She almost missed the breathy chuckle against the curve of her jaw, but couldn't miss the teasing press of the flared tip of his length against her sticky sex.
"Now that I have that little bit of information…you can no longer run from me."
Her eyes flew wide, but before she could express her panic, his hands at her hips slammed her fully onto him – sheathing him within her in one fluid thrust that had her shaking and sobbing against his chest in response.
He lingered, unmoving for a moment, before deciding that remaining immobile was obviously the last thing that she needed, and proceeded to rock his narrow hips upward – impaling her, in slow, driving motions, onto his rigid length.
Winter could not believe it – her brain couldn't keep up with the sensations that coursed through her body at the actions. She had wanted this for so long – and now that she had it, she wasn't sure how she felt about it. In truth it was what she wanted, but this was not the manner in which she had envisioned it.
But again, beggars could not be choosers…and Winter should not look a gift horse in the mouth – regardless of the potentially disastrous effects it could have on their long-term relationship as colleagues and friends.
But that was not something of which she could think on the moral positioning at the moment, as his length tugged its way out to the tapered head, before shunting back in with a commanding thrust. She felt her head spin, the room tilting, and the fingers of her left hand fisted harder in his hair, as her right hand braced her weight on the porcelain rim of the tub – just behind his shoulders.
This was more than she had ever imagined it would be – the feel of him gliding in and out of her body at an authoritative pace that her fingers could never hope to imitate. She felt her stomach tightening at the surreal pleasure that coursed through her, those hot lips on her throat, and his fingertips at her pearl once more. She nearly screamed at the sensations this man evoked within her – which she had always known he would.
A whine escaped Winter's throat as she arched up, spreading her trembling thighs wider to accommodate the surprisingly substantial length bearing into her with an intensity and accuracy that shouldn't have surprised her as much as it did. The musky scent of sex mingled with the steam that curled around them, and the feel of his hot mouth on her neck left her breathless and dazed. She braced her slender hands against his broad chest, leaning forward to blink down at crimson eyes, as she lifted herself up, only to sink back down. Her breath panted out heavily as he slid inside of her, friction creating a nearly electric sensation that traveled along her spine and settled in her belly.
She sobbed gasped against his throat as Qrow's hips surged upward again, her silky, white hair flowing over her shoulders like an icy waterfall, slick against the blush that began to paint her back and shoulders at her arousal. Her hips swivelled in desperate circles, as callused hands guided her downward, her broken gasps mingling with his deeper, raspier breaths.
She had never intended for this to happen, but the lust and desperation they both felt had blossomed into a monster that neither could control. The only entity in charge now was primal instinct, fueling the frantic grinding of their fused bodies, and the cooling shower water was barely keeping the flames from tearing like a wildfire across their skin.
Winter could feel the burn smoldering low in her belly, like a constant flow, a building fireball forming faster and harder, until it threatened to sweep everything away from its path.
"Qrow…" she uttered on a broken whimper, smashing their foreheads together, "I can't...I think I...I just…I've never..."
The words were nonsense spilling from her panting lips, but Qrow seemed to pick up on their meaning, his body stiffening slightly at the implication, "Wait...what?"
His hips slowed marginally, tempering the inferno to an infuriating smolder that had her growling through clenched teeth against his jawline. His hands left their place at her undulating hips, rising to sweep soggy, white strands of hair from her face. His right palm flattened against her cheek, thumb hooking under her chin to bring her face forward, forcing her glazed, blue eyes to meet his own. The intensity of his gaze cut through her defenses the way his scythe cut through Grimm - like a knife through butter, and she felt her heart clench behind shaking ribs.
"Winter...?"
Her eyes widened slightly in fear at the unspoken question. His voice was low, rough, and filled with so much emotion that she felt wet heat burn behind her lashes. Her teeth bit harshly into her lower lip, all of her nerves and butterflies from earlier that day returning with a vengeance. She suddenly felt as naked and vulnerable as she was.
But then his free hand was running down her side, fingertips ghosting over the dip of her waist and the swell of her hip, before finding purchase atop her right thigh. She sighed under the caress of that hand, cheek pressing into the palm that cupped the left side of her face, as she felt moisture gathering in her blue eyes. She quickly clenched her lids shut tightly, refusing to allow those hot tears of shame to soil her cheeks and tarnish her pride.
However, his next move brought soft, warm lips to press a gentle kiss to her creased forehead. Her body melted slightly at the touch, wilting under his attention, as a callused thumb stroked tender circles along her cheekbone, matching rhythm with the one at her thigh.
Suddenly, all of her emotions burst through the floodgates, destroying her inhibitions and drenching her in the full weight of her yearnings. Every fear, want, and need that had been pent up and locked away was set free in a matter of moments. As the first sob broke free, her hot tears falling unchecked, Qrow trailed open-mouthed kisses down her face and along her throat, a hand creeping along her tense stomach. His right hand anchored itself at her jawline, cupping her face and angling their mouths together once more in a blistering mesh of lips and tongue.
Winter's hands had a mind of their own, narrow fingertips tracing the hard lines of his stomach, before sweeping up his back to massage the firm angles of his shoulders.
"I want you…" that deep, gravelly voice whispered eagerly, lips enclosing around her right earlobe.
His hot mouth sent shivers down her spine, her grip on him tightening possessively in response. Winter had never before felt this level of contact, and to be experiencing it for the first time with Qrow, no less, filled her with a renewed sense of disbelief and bewilderment, as sensual thoughts from past instances of attraction flickered through her muddled mind.
She gasped his name on a broken breath as his rough hands moved over her breasts, before inhaling sharply, her own fingers tangling in midnight hair once more. There was no time to think, plan, or figure out any strategy for how to deal with the sweltering heat that was building within her. The fears and misgivings in her mind had all but disappeared, and there was nothing left to separate her from this powerful man beneath her.
Her hands retreated from his scalp, taking up purchase against the rim of the tub at his back, and she responded easily to him as his palms returned to her hips, pushing her back down onto his impressive girth.
Winter tried her best to maintain some semblance of control, but Qrow's ministrations and the sensation of his length sliding torturously within her had the pale huntress on the verge of bursting into oblivion. She could barely breathe, but she couldn't find it in herself to regret anything in that moment.
She shivered into the slick glide of his firm chest against her own, and she let out a shattered gasp when his mouth descended upon her panting lips, once more. His tongue was insistent and skilled, gliding confidently against her own in a manner that had her eyes sliding shut once more.
Please...don't stop…
She had no doubt in her mind now - this was the man she wanted. She understood with a blinding clarity that she had loved him for a very long time. Her future was calling to her and she was beginning to see the possibility of Qrow being a part of it.
Winter arched her back, pushing against him in a desperate press against the rigid arousal sliding in and out of her clenching heat. She felt a hand flatten purposefully against her tailbone, the other crawling along the inside of her left thigh. Those sinful fingers slid upward into her heat, and she couldn't stifle the broken sob that shattered against his lips as he located her pearl once more.
She clung to him desperately, every stroke and thrust pushing her closer to a fate she knew she couldn't escape, the fire burning hotter within her. She wordlessly urged him onward, an uncontrollable frenzy overtaking her, as her fingers curled against the smooth porcelain at his back, struggling to find purchase. She could feel her skin come alive under his war-scarred fingers with every stroke and press, and she knew the end was near. She wished it could last forever, and she tried not to allow that small brush of sadness to touch her heart, lest she risk staining this perfect moment with negativity or regret.
One sword-calloused hand rested on her slick thigh as their bodies rocked with a renewed fervor, as Qrow caught her mouth in a kiss that claimed her tongue with no hesitation. That was when she became vaguely aware of several things around them: the splash and splatter of shower water against her back, the scent of musk and ash that seemed to follow the huntsman wherever he went. But then she honed in on the things that mattered most - the deliberate thrust and slide of their joining; the feel of his slick, narrow hips as her strong, yet slender thighs boxed them in; the slick heat of Qrow's body as he pushed inside; and the feel of her blunt nails scoring stinging marks down his shoulders and arms. It all built, and built, and built...until Winter could barely comprehend anything, could only gasp and groan against Qrow's slick shoulder, could only hold onto him tightly and take each rock of his powerful hips deeper and deeper.
You're so much more than what I had imagined... and...I...I...
The moment she finally broke into a million pieces around him, the entire room seemed to shake and spin, driving her into an ecstasy she had only known in fantasies or dreams. Her pale thighs clenched around him like a vice. His fingers left her heat to grasp her chin, pulling her mouth to his own in a searing, scorching meld of lips and tongue that stole what little coherence she had left.
The last thing she remembered, before everything faded to an inky black, was the feel of now-cool water beating down on her back and shoulders, and the searing heat of Qrow's mouth marking silent promises and unspoken comforts into her slack, panting lips.
When later she awoke, it was already night, her body wrapped in cotton sheets, and a warmth at her back that reassured her it was all real. She had no idea what was going to happen when they rose, but, in that moment, it didn't really matter. For just a while, she could pretend that everything would work out...even if she knew it was likely a pipe dream.
Snuggling into the firm chest at her back, she felt a strong arm tighten around her shoulders, a warm thigh sliding between her own as an anchor, tugging her back into dreams and away from the harsh realities beyond.