Title: Even The Darkest Night
Author: greyslostwho
Pairing: Decidedly Peter/Olivia.
Rating: PG for now
Summary: Peter and Olivia in another of those AUs that are sprouting out everywhere, slightly ambiguous. Open enough and plot-less enough to be randomly updated, whenever.
Spoilers: None, not really.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Really.
X. Staring into the almost dark
She'd sneaked out of her bunker the night before they were due to travel across country to the base where they were going to train further with more advanced ability specialists and begin their first military posts. It was dangerous, travelling that far – the upkeep of the tunnel systems was precarious. She didn't know what was possessing her – since the nuclear scare two weeks ago they'd decided not to climb out of their tunnel, not anymore. But she remembered Peter saying something about all his bunker mates having already moved out, and she hoped to God he was alone.
He was alone and he couldn't sleep either, lying on his back staring into the almost dark, only slightly lit with the near blue glow of artificial tunnel lighting. He knew who she was, felt her mind, without even looking at her, and he shuffled over on the small bunk to make room for her. But something was different tonight, and she lowered herself on top of him, her eyes dark and glittering in the half light, her mouth moist and warm on his cheekbone, his jaw, his throat. His late evening stubble grazed her face as he caught her intentions and started to kiss her as enthusiastically as she was kissing him.
She pulled back, only to pull her sweater over her head, followed by the thin grey cotton vest she wore to bed. Peter, overwhelmed and astounded, but already shirtless, did not attempt to undress himself further, only reached up and tugged out the band holding her hair in place. Blonde waves cascaded over them both, curtaining them from the world as he pulled her back down to him, the feel of bare skin on bare skin igniting both of them. His lips were on hers, her hands were everywhere, and it hardly took seconds for both their pants and underwear to lay on the dirt floor beside Peter's bunk. His hands remained comb-fixed into her hair, his eyes never leaving hers.
He flipped them both, until he was gazing down at her, the intensity of his stare far more revealing to her than any amount of undressing. He was heavier than she'd expected, almost suffocating, having every inch of lean, hard muscle pressing down on her.
"Are you-" he began, and she could hear in his voice the effect she had on him.
"I want you." She gasped, a truth she hadn't realised until it was spoken.
"I love you."
She was eighteen years old, and he was the first and only person to say that to her in her whole life. She silently wrapped her legs around him and let him inside her, crying her reciprocation over and over into the night.