Pre-Fic Note: This drabble was a plot-bunny, not a contest. Also, It's a little...risque.


It was frantic and borne of desperation. Both could not deny the need to feel it—to actually be with someone—before the Earth swallowed them up and fate denied them the chance. Neither knows whether or not it would have happened on its own; if there hadn't been a war to fight, would they have eventually slept together? Given time, would they have been together? They would like to think so, but both have their own lingering, niggling doubts.

But there is no place for doubts as he kisses her lips and moves intimately within her. For right now, stuck in this moment, all he can see is the beauty of her beneath him—her sweat-coated skin, passion-tangled hair, long eyelashes curved against her cheeks, and lips that part and beg to be kissed. Later, he will wonder if she chose him for him or if it was some other irrepressible, unpredictable motivation. As he feels her body clenching around him and her cries of rapture echo in his ears, he decides he doesn't particularly care.