Broken glass


She wakes to the sound of tape being pulled from a roll. The room is dark but for the flashes of lightning forking across the sky – even the face of her digital alarm clock is blank.

"What are you doing?" she asks with a voice still slurred from deep sleep.

"Well –" Lightning flashes again and she can see the muscles of his back flex as he presses the tape across a visible crack in the window. "I'm just trying to make sure we don't wake up in the morning covered in glass shards."

"You're so thoughtful."

"I do try." He turns to grin at her and his teeth all but glow in the backlight of the storm. His arms stretch wide to pull one final strip of tape from the roll and he hisses as his fingers run along the length of it. "Fuck."

"What is it?"

"It's nothing."

She sighs and swings her legs over the edge of the bed. The bathroom is dark but the first aid kit is easy to find. He is sucking on his finger and watching the rain pelt against the fortified window when she returns. When she pulls his hand from his mouth, he grins again.

"Are you going to patch me up, Nurse Erza?" he asks. "You're out of uniform for that."

"Be nice or I'll let you bleed to death." She inspects the cut as best she can in the darkness. It's deeper than she expects and spans the width of his finger pad. With a sigh, she digs in the bag for a disinfectant wipe.

"You have an appalling bedside manner," he says inching closer to her and hooking an uninjured finger in the waistband of her panties.

"Do you always sexually harass medical professionals?"

"Is that what you are? A professional?" His lips fall to her neck and she ducks away.

"I'm your first line of defense against an infection. Stop trying to distract me." Her fingers are still in the first aid bag and she is irritated. How do they manage to keep such a badly maintained emergency item? Finally she grasps what feels like a packet containing the disinfectant wipe, but is actually a cream for insect bites. She huffs and tosses the back rudely onto the surface of the dresser. "Hey," he whispers, kissing her cheek.

"What?" she asks, leaning into him finally.

"It's fine. I won't bleed to death." He holds up his finger. "See? It's stopped."

"But –" He takes her lips quickly and eases the band of her panties further down. She doesn't stop him and divests him of his own shorts.

When she pushes him down on the bed, his face lights up briefly and she sees the dimple she loves most in his left cheek. His fingers dig into her hip as she settles over him. Her hand closes around his cock and – as usual – he doesn't need to be warmed up. Without warning she eases down and enjoys every inch.

His eyes are wide and never leave her body. At some point the tangled bun on the top of her head falls over her shoulders. She is unsurprised that his hand finds its way there. His teeth cut into his lip when she reaches between her own legs and helps things move along. Her hand grasps the wrist still at her hip and he sucks in a sharp breath.

"Erza –"

"Hm?"

"My finger," he gasps. "It's – there's blood on you." She heaves a sigh and takes his hand. The air is too hot for her to feel the chill on her skin but a flash of lightning reveals the blood seeping from his finger.

His eyes glint in the flash and she takes the finger into her mouth. Her tongue presses against the cut and she can taste the copper of his blood.

"Erza," he bites out between clenched jaws. "Fuck." She doesn't smile or slow or do anything but ride him mercilessly. The hand in her hair clutches at her waist and his hips thrust up. He swells and throbs and she can feel the instant he finishes – but does not stop until her belly twitches in delight. Even though he is soft, and ready to pull out, she doesn't move. Instead, she pops his finger from her lips and licks the tip. His chest trembles and she grins.