Lazarus felt dry. Perhaps it was a simple case of nerves, but whatever the reason, his entire body felt as though it had been dried out, sapped of life-giving liquid. He licked his lips, accidentally tasting the cloth of his mask. Ick. He'd have to launder his clothing later that day. Why he'd been sent into the world with only one suit of clothing provided to him, he'd never know. Even when he was living in Dream Zanarkand, he'd at least had a few pairs of slacks to wear about the city. Not that the dead sweat much. Ugh, he hadn't even had a shower.
The only thing that was keeping him sane was the woman walking next to him across the beach, twirling at every step, more a dance than a walk. How was it that every movement she made could express such... joy? Such truth and life? Every moment she was awake, she was either working in her lab or outside in the sun, soaking up the light of day. Truly, the woman he had agreed to court was his heart's opposite. Though he had spent fourteen years or more of his existence in the shadow of death, she had spent nineteen years pulling every tiny morsel of life that she could from the world. She had lived enough for the both of them. It made him feel... complete, somehow.
Rikku paused in mid-spin, catching him in his gaze. "You okay, Laz?"
"Was I staring?" He blinked and brushed a gloved hand over his forehead, sweeping a longish curl of hair back from his forehead. He'd need to get it cut again sometime soon... his identity was showing through, what with the hair at his widow's peak and his temples flaring out as they'd been wont to do when he was Auron. Especially at his temples. His hair was as black as his youth again, but at his temples it swept out like a fish's fin. That had been one of the reasons he'd grown it out as a warrior monk. At least when it was long, it wasn't silly-looking.
"Mm," she nodded, moving closer to take his arm in hers. They were nearing the village, where Cid was visiting with the baby, and Lazarus had been becoming visibly nervous, his steps slowing, chest moving a little faster. "It'll be okay. Everything'll be okay." Rikku tilted her head up, gazing over his face, the way his hair had begun to fluff over the back of his starched collar. "You look good today."
Lazarus chuckled. She had to be saying that to make him feel better. "I need a haircut. Unfortunately, my last barber didn't quite like the fact that I wanted to keep a mask on. Vow or no vow." He reached up and tugged on the curl of hair, which had fallen forward over his forehead again. "By the aeons, this thing is annoying. Think you could cut it off for me? I'm starting to look like your friend Paine. And the look suits her far better than me, I believe."
Rikku smiled and leaned her cheek on his shoulder. They were at the shrine, no more than a minute from the village and Cid, and Laz had slowed to a halt. She looked over the shrine, and past it to the view of the village before them. Despite the fact that her race was enemy to Yevon, she still felt that this place was somehow... right. Peaceful in its dedication to the island's faith, because the people here had always been more concerned with holding together their community, rather than raising hatred and racism. And that's what they'd clung to Yevon for. Hope. Togetherness. A sense of peace.
She looked up at Lazarus and tugged on the widow's peak lock of hair with a smile. He was right, it did resemble the way Paine styled her silver locks. Which reminded Rikku of an old Al Bhed rhyme...
"Drana fyc y meddma kenm
Fru ryt y meddma linm,
Nekrd eh dra settma uv ran vunarayt.
Yht frah cra fyc kuut
Cra fyc jano, jano kuut.
Yht frah cra fyc pyt,
Cra fyc runnet."
At Lazarus' raised eyebrow, Rikku grinned, leaning into him. "Pop used to teach me and Brother rhymes all the time, when we were little. He said that was his favorite for me. I didn't have curly hair or anything, but he said I could be so bad sometimes that he wanted to run away and cry. Once, when I was like five, I took apart a machina that he and Rin had been working on for weeks. Ooh, they were so mad! And since they'd been outsmarted by a little kid, they couldn't do anything. I remember them stomping around and cursing... yevon, I thought it was the funniest thing I'd ever seen. Pop gave me stuff to disassemble at least once a week after that. So I wouldn't destroy the important stuff."
"Why do you use yevon in conversation, Rikku?" It didn't seem right, after all. He'd always thought that her people hated everything about the old god. With good reason, of course.
She snickered in response, not surprised at his question in the least. "Well, what's the worst curseword ever to the Al Bhed? Worse than fuck? Yevon, of course!"
Lazarus smiled and gently pulled her arm from his, so that he could instead wrap his arms around the woman, pulling her back in towards his chest. She seemed to lose her balance for a moment, but once there was a firm support to lean against, she relaxed into him. His arms were crossed over her abdomen, fingers tapping lightly on the bare skin of her sides. "We should go somewhere, tonight. After this is over. Just go somewhere we can be alone."
"You mean... um. Somewhere to..." She trailed off, but her meaning was obvious. Shy again, but not so much so that she moved away from him. Just enough to fluster herself, cheeks painted rose at her own thoughts.
But Lazarus only smiled beneath his mask and bent down to kiss the top of her head. Well. To kiss his mask, so that she felt the right kind of pressure at the top of her head. "Not that. I'm not that much of an old pervert. We're going to wait until you're ready. I meant to just be together." Better. That seemed to relax her so that she melted again, soft and warm and yielding in his arms. Wait. Yielding? Not that much of a pervert? Laz chided himself, carefully pulling his arms away from her abdomen. Years of discipline would all go down the proverbial drain, if he wasn't careful. The repression he'd placed himself under was beginning to crumble, and he wasn't about to let himself even think improperly outside of the right circumstances. "You can think of where you'd like to go while I speak to Cid. I might choose a location that would label me a scoundrel."
"You're a scoundrel already," she shot back, grinning. "Now get down there and luind me so you can be even more of a scoundrel."
He knew then that his mind was in the gutter. Lazarus had almost responded with "get down where and what you to become a scoundrel?" but his mouth stayed clamped shut. Instead, he let Rikku go and began the easy jog down the hill to the village with her following behind, heading as quickly to Yuna's tent as possible. The sooner he could have Rikku officially, the better. Otherwise, Lazarus was not sure what would become of his sanity.
Rikku had been right in her assumption that Cid would be visiting with the small family. Though Brother and Nhadala had since retreated to Cid's airship, Yuna and Tidus were eating breakfast with the Al Bhe leader and Kimahri, with Paine and Gippal in a corner adding to the conversation. The scene had a familial kind of peace. Laz wasn't sure that he wanted to disturb the group, but given that this could be his only opportunity to speak with Cid for a long time to come, he had to take it. Tidus and Yuna glanced up and smiled in greeting, both of them looking fatigued from the first night with a baby that did not keep regular hours. To the trained eyes of one who had understood Ronso expressions, even Kimahri looked slightly the worse for wear. Luckily, the newborn was still and sleeping peacefully in her cradle, giving her parents and Ronso godfather a moment's peace. And considering newborns, it would likely only be one moment's peace.
"Morning Lazarus! Came to start your guarding early?" asked Tidus brightly, running a hand through his hair. It was a subtle gesture, subtler than Laz had thought Tidus capable of. Yes, he was starting to look rather too much like Auron despite the mask. But that would be amended as soon as he gave Rikku a scissors and let her go to town. The thought of which, suddenly, frightened him. Quickly, he put the fear from his mind to address the issue at hand.
"Actually, Sir Tidus, I came to speak to Cid. If that is all right with you, sir. Shall we step outside?" Laz bowed to a confused-looking Al Bhed leader, before glancing quickly over to Tidus. 'Business,' the glance seemed to say. But the sudden appearance of Rikku behind the masked man made the blonde's eyes widen.
"What in the tarnations do you have to talk to me about, huh? I ain't going nowhere until I've spent enough time with my niece and my little grand-neice. So if it's all right with you, sir, get out." The man folded his arms as if the decision was final. But Rikku's eyes, wide and imploring, made her father's heart melt. "Rikku? What's going on here, girl?"
"Hear him out, Pop, okay? It's important." She walked over to him and kneeled down, giving her father that one look that all daughters learn, very early in their lives, is priceless: the imploring eyes of Daddy's Little Girl. "Please."
"Oh... fine. Help me up, girl." The man grunted as Rikku tugged on his arm, but he stood and nodded to the other occupants of the tent, following Lazarus who had bowed out into the morning light. Once they were standing outside in the cool air, Cid tugged down on his shirt and folded his arms again, in his best attempt to stare Lazarus down. "So, what's this all about? I want some answers."
With a swift grace known only to those whose profession is movement or combat, Lazarus dropped down to one knee, his hands pressed to his thighs, head down. "E ryja lusa du ycg vun ouin tyikrdan'c ryht eh Luindcreb. Cra vaamc yc cdnuhkmo vun sa yc E vun ran. Bmayca, cen, femm oui keja ic ouin pmaccehk?" His voice was strong and clear, despite the cloth covering his face, and he spoke each word with the feeling of a man in need, never moving his eyes from Cid's. Behind him, however, were four pairs of adult eyes that saw the masked man's hands shaking. And Rikku... she just stood behind him, wringing her hands, waiting on her father's answer. Why were his eyes so hard? Why was he standing so still? Why wasn't he responding the way Rikku had promised Lazarus he would? Had hoped he would...
"Ramm hu oui lyh'd ryja so tyikrdan oui sycgat Yevoneda cuh uv y pedlr!" Cid yelled, spittle flying from his mouth in a sudden animalistic rage. "Who the fuck do you think you are? We can't see your face, and apparently even the name you gave everyone here is a load of chocobo shit. Maybe you can fool my neice, and maybe you can fool my daughter, but you can't fuckin' fool me!"
The shaking of Laz's hands had stilled, replaced with an ethereal calm. Once again, he appeared to be made from stone, brown eyes hard and emotionless as he stared at the boots of his lover's father. There was a danger to this stillness. Kimahri, who understood the threat, silently took up his spear and silently moved to stand behind the Al Bhed leader. Unfortunately for this leader, he misinterpreted Lazarus' silence.
"I knew it. So the truth comes out, huh? Yeah, you keep your mouth shut, you ignorant swine. I'd be willing to bet my left nut that yer nothing more than some half-cocked kid that wants some action with a pretty girl. On top of that, you've been lying to my innocent little neice that yer some kinda warrior god, sent by something she still believes in from that fucked-up religion she almost got sacrificed for. Well I ain't gonna believe your cockamamy story, and I ain't gonna let you lie to no one I care about no more! I'm gonna get you outta this town and out of my family's life, if I have to beat you down myself, you young charlatan!"
Still, Lazarus did not move. He only murmured a few words to the woman behind him, words that came out as strained as cold as a blast of ice from Shiva herself. "Rikku, understand that I hold you, and therefore your family, in the highest respect. I apologize for what I am about to do."
Slowly he stood, slowly stepped forward until he was face-to-face with Cid's fury. Then, without a word, he grabbed the other man by the collar, and with one hand, lifted him a full two feet from the ground. Cid flailed in a panic, his eyes wide, and before he could say another word, Lazarus slammed the flat of his hand into the man's abdomen, winding him completely, but not injuring him. While the Al Bhed leader coughed and sputtered, Lazarus caught Kimahri's eye. Stand down, old friend. I will not kill him, as much as I would like to do so. The Ronso gave an almost imperceptable nod as if he'd heard the thought, and stood at ease, planting the butt of his hunting spear in the ground.
"First. You claim that I am a liar, sir, but I am afraid that you have made a mistake," Lazarus began, still holding the other man in the air as if he had no weight to speak of. "I wear this mask because I must. Because my identity must not become common knowledge, whatever may happen. There are those in this world who could, by knowing who I am, prevent me from my duty, which is to guard your grand-neice until my death. I will answer any question you have in regards to who I am, but only those questions within reason and inside the bounds of my vow." Lazarus paused in his tirade, watching Cid's face long enough to be assured that the man would not speak. But that face was, of course, too wide and petrified to try. "Second. You seem to believe that I am asking for your daughter in Luindcreb because I want to take advantage of her body. This is not true. I am in love with her. She knows who I am. She has seen my face and knows my life story. And even after she knew, she asked for me. Not the other way around."
"I won't believe it! Rikku would never--"
"THIRD," Lazarus roared, stunning Cid into a cowering silence. "As I have explained myself fully, and you still appear not to believe my claims. You have said that you will attempt to, as you put it, 'beat me down.' If you still care to try, then by all means." He dropped the Al Bhed leader to the ground then, watching him scramble to his feet. Once Cid was standing again, warily brushing himself off, Lazarus took another step forward, growling out a sound that was low and enraged almost inhuman, the arm that held the other man falling unheeded to his side. "Try it."
Cid gulped and backed away a pace before he realized what he'd done. Though he was no warrior, the Al Bhed knew that such an action had shown him to be a coward before his daughter's beau. He'd lost face. There was no helping it. Cid hung his head and planted his hands on his hips, staring at the man before him. Finally, he sighed. "All right, fine. Oui syo ryja Rikku'c ryht, yht pmacc oui pudr eh Luindcreb vnus drec susahd ihdem y oayn byccac un cra paync y lremt, blah blah blah. But I want to know some things first, you got me?"
Lazarus bowed. Fury spent once more, he slipped admirably well into the role of a respectful son-in-law. "Of course."
Cid snorted, but he began to ask his questions, everything that popped into his mind as important. After all, this person was going to be his baby's future husband. Somehow, he knew it to be true. A year would pass, and nothing would come between them. It made his heart ache. His daughter was... gone. "Will I ever get to know who you are?"
"As soon as my duty is done and Kimi's murder is prevented. If she is killed, my identity wil be of no consequence whatsoever. Needless to say, from the point I was given my life's work by the fayth, my life was tied inexorably to hers."
"Yeah yeah yeah." Cid waved off the other man's fancy words and moved on. So fine, he'd know who the guy was in a few years. "How old are you? I don't want my girl marryin' no young rascal that can't take care of her none, understand?"
This question... made Lazarus stop. He blinked as if confused, then turned around and looked at Rikku. "Which?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow. She walked over to the men and looked from one to the other.
"He can't tell you his real age, Pop. That'd give things away a little. But he's kind of twenty-six. Ish." She looked at her father with the hope that he'd accept this answer. "He's older than Gippal, either way, and you told me a long time ago Gippal would be okay if he ever came round. Right?"
Over toward the tent, the one-eyed blonde coughed and scratched his head in embarassment. Paine only snickered. "Bmayca... tuh'd pnehk sa ehdu drec," Gippal said with a gulp, when Cid gave an accusing glare his way.
"Well fine. One more question. Rikku told you the rules behind Luindcreb, right?" At Laz's nod, Cid continued. "Then you must be a virgin. And we're not talkin' technical virginity, sonny-boy. You can't never even have touched a woman like that. So are you?"
"I am," Lazarus replied.
He could almost hear Tidus' jaw dropping. "Holy fuck, old man!" the boy exclaimed, slapping his gloved hand to his head. When Yuna's hand lightly clapped over his mouth, Tidus realized what he'd just cried out, and grinned sheepishly. Right. Gotta watch his language, now that the baby's around. "Sorry, um. Yeah. Ah-heh."
Cid seemed satisfied, and he pulled out a scrap sheet of parchment which Rikku and Lazarus signed and dated, so that they could become an official couple by Al Bhed standards. Husband and wife really, temporarily married until they tore the sheet, thereby nullifying the Luindcreb. It seemed surreal, to Lazarus. The moment Cid had given in, everything became so strange. Even the air tasted different at the back of his throat. The woman standing next to him was quiet as well, as if she felt the strangeness. They were congratulated, of course. Paine and Gippal were astounded at the couple's sudden relationship. Gippal almost felt jealous, that the girl he'd never been interested in had found a replacement for him so quickly. But then Paine whispered something in his ear, and all such thoughts flew from his head. Yuna was thrilled, and though she did not know that Lazarus was Auron, still she had a great respect for Lazarus as a person and as guardian to her child. She couldn't think of a better man to take care of Rikku, and she wouldn't think of taking time from the couple by forcing Laz to babysit so early after her pregnancy, when he'd helped out so much before! He should take a week or two away from them, at least. Tidus still couldn't get over the fact that Lazarus, his own damned foster father, was still a virgin at forty, for crying out loud! So he just kind of stood still, scratching his head and trying to process the idea. And then, there was Kimahri.
The Elder Ronso walked up to Lazarus with a knowing look in glowing yellow eyes and stopped next to him, staring hard at the human. Then without a word, he curled his right hand into a fist, and thumped the man on the chest. Laz's jaw clenched and his eyes clouded just a bit. Their parting had been reversed, and still the affection held. All was well.
After the congratulations were over, Lazarus walked silently back up the hill leaving the village in his wake, Rikku at his side. Kimahri had chosen to reach the Celcius, on which he would travel to Gagazet, by running, leaping from one ruin to the next. Laz had the feeling that he'd simply wanted to leave the two alone. Paine and Gippal, of course, had other means of transportation. So the two walked in silence. Lazarus with his hands behind his back. Rikku with her arms swinging at her sides, scuffing her sneakers in the dirt. Finally, just to break the discomfort of silence, she spoke.
"That thing Kimahri did. When he, y'know, thumped you on the chest. You did that to him when you were being sent, I remember." She paused, watching her now-husband nod his head in assent. "It happened... so fast. We knew it would, but. I guess I couldn't really react. I remember... I just stood there. Bent over. Wringing my hands while Yuna danced. How you said that this was our world now. How you said that your life had been enough. And I still couldn't react at all, while you were dying, right in front of us." Rikku grabbed for his hand, suddenly overcome. As if she were afraid he'd leave again. And Lazarus held on, breath coming slow and steady. Listening to her because she needed to be heard. "I knew you didn't care too much about me. And really, I guess I wasn't thinking about it at the time. We weren't close, so it would've been kind of selfish of me if I had thought of it. But. You just. It was your time. But you looked so sad. So empty." She sighed, and he pulled his hand away for a moment, but only so that he could unglove himself, balancing the metal-and-leather gauntlets on his shoulder. When he reached out again, he rested his arm around her shoulders, warming her small frame, keeping her close.
"I wasn't sad, really," he said, walking slowly. "I was just... I was so tired. And I wanted so badly just to sleep. Imagine... imagine staying up one night, and living through the next day with no sleep. Everything becomes hazy. All of your senses become peculiar, like they're not entirely yours, right? It's like that, existing just like that for years. It's like walking for days without sleep, walking endlessly in endless cold. I honestly can't say I know how Mika did it for so long, so much longer than I. Every part of life, every enjoyable thing that you manage to do feels only like a memory of itself. You function of course, every day you function as you always have. You grow and age. You age maybe a little faster than you should have, even, since your body wants to begin the process of decomposing. But sleep isn't restful, warmth isn't comforting, food isn't satisfying. Just existing in that state was... painful. That's the best way I can describe it to someone still living." He blew out a mouthful of air, and shook his head. "The most annoying part of it was that I still felt lust. Not for anyone in particular, mind. Just lust in general. Which isn't much use, when you're unable to procreate or even feel pleasure."
She nodded, flushing a little at the thought. Auron, strong and tall Auron who felt no fear and exuded masculinity, feeling lust. But of course, Auron was Lazarus, and Lazarus was still a young man who clearly felt passion. She'd felt it through him, just the night before. When she was sitting in his lap, and she pulled closer, she could feel his heat all through her body, and the physical manifestation of male desire growing between them. She coughed, a fake sound to cover up her thoughts. "Um. Can I ask you a question?"
"Certainly," he murmured, thumbing the birthmark on her shoulder again, stepping just a little bit quicker now that the Celcius was in sight, docked right on the beach. "You can ask me anything now."
"Did you, ahh. Um." Rikku reached up and grabbed a bit of hair that had fallen over her shoulder, started coiling her ponytail around her hand. "Last night, after we went to bed. Did you, er, throw something away? Just, um. Curious." Suddenly, she desparately wanted to take the question back. Like she had no right to ask, despite his offer.
"Mm. Since you ask, yes. It was keeping me awake, thinking about you. Being near you." He looked down at her, his eyelids half closed. "Don't worry. I didn't sully or disrespect anything of yours. Save in my thoughts."
Rikku nodded, even more anxious now than she had been. Anxious because she couldn't keep her attention from his words, his face. The way he walked so gracefully, even when he was relaxed. The way his gaze wound lazily over her body as if he were admiring a painting or sculpture. The way he could speak of his physical attraction to her so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Everything seemed to be changing, and there was a warm tickle between her legs that she was desparately trying to ignore. They were already ascending the platform, walking back into the engine room. Rikku spoke into the ship's intercom quickly, checking to make sure that Kimahri had boarded safely, and to say that they could head to Gagazet whenever Buddy was ready. The ship took off without a buckle, and Rikku walked nervously up the stairs to the elevator. When they were inside, Laz turned around to press the button for the cabin. And he whirled again, grabbing the woman with a sudden passion that left her breathless.
Before she realized what was happening, Laz had Rikku pressed against the wall of the elevator, his mask ripped off and hanging from the left side of the collar, strings of the right side torn through and useless until they could be sewn together again. His mouth was on her neck, rough stubble from two days without shaving tickling her shoulder. One hand pressed at the middle of her back while the other held her head, careful not to let it bang painfully on the elevator wall as he tasted the flesh of her neck, brushed his lips over her jawline and up to her earlobe. When the soft scrape of teeth ran over the outer skin of her ear, hot breath coming on her hairline, she let out a low moan, raised her legs to either side of him as he held her firmly against the metal wall. Somehow she had to get rid of that maddening tickle, the one that had started on the skin between her legs and had worked its way deep inside, had become a basic need. And when she wrapped her legs tighter around the man, the tickle seemed to die down, fade from a maddening itch into a warm melting pleasure that only grew as she moved her hips, sealing them against his.
The hissing metallic sound of the elevator doors opening distracted her into stillness, but Lazarus refused to be caught unaware. He only tightened his grip on the woman and pressed his unmasked face to her shoulder as he carried her through the short hallway, peeking out through the door at the end to see whether Barkeep was in the cabin. But apparently, the Hypello had been intelligent enough to leave well enough alone for the day. Laz locked the door behind them with one quick hand, then carried Rikku across the floor, up the stairs, into bed.
It had all happened faster than Rikku cared to notice. Her focus seemed to be shifting in and out. She was vaguely aware that Laz's gauntlets had fallen to the floor from his shoulder, that she was lying on her back in her bed and that he was on top of her, hands on her shoulders and mouth exploring her collarbone. No, that wasn't true. She was intensely aware of his mouth. The way his teeth felt, scraping gently along her skin. His tongue, a cold wetness that almost felt like nothing as it brushed over her. His lips, just a little rougher. His stubble. It tickled. "Laz..." she murmured with a smile, not sure what to say. Not sure whether she should really be interrupting.
But the man seemed to jump at her syllable, disconnected from her. His chest was moving quickly, straining at the cloth of the tunic with every breath, face flushed with desire. Laz sat back on his heels, trying desparately to put some distance between himself and the object of his affection. "I'm sorry. Fuck. I'm... fuck. I'm losing it again," he groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Shit. I'm sorry, Rikku. I can't... control myself anymore."
"But you can. Silly." She sat up, with some difficulty since he was practically sitting on her feet, and reached out both hands to pull his away from his face. "Just the fact that you can hear my voice and react to it. That's control, isn't it? I mean geez, Laz. You're way too repressed, you know? We're luindat. We're married. You can do things to me and stuff, now. Did I sound like I wasn't enjoying myself?"
"Well, no," he admitted, "but there's a fine line between pleasure and pain. People... make the same sounds, the same faces. How would I know if I was doing something you didn't want?" His eyes shone, and despite the obvious lump in his pants, the rest of him was slumped over. "Tell me what you want, so that I know when to stop. Otherwise, I'm not even sure I'll react in time. I just don't know. This has... never happened before, you understand."
"I know," she said. With a little yank, she pulled her feet out from under him, and moved so that she was kneeling before him. Carefully, she reached around his waist and undid the buckle of his belt as he watched her with burning eyes. "But you don't have to hold back. I'm yours. I don't doubt that anymore, and we've got the papers to prove it. But... let's go slow, okay?" With a flick of her wrist, the belt was tossed aside, and she reached under the loosened tunic to unclasp his collar, throwing it aside along with the torn and ruined mask. "Otherwise you might mess up even more stuff, and I'd hate to have to get you all new clothing just because you couldn't show a little patience."
"You're hardly wearing anything," he replied, his voice low and warm. When she bent forward to slip the tunic backwards over his arms, he kissed her neck again, sucking a little before she had the chance to pull away. It made her shiver.
"Take your boots off. You'll get the bed all dirty," she replied, kicking off her own sneakers and letting them join the steadily-growing pile of clothing. It was only then that she realized her miniskirt had worked itself halfway up her hips, likely from when she'd wrapped her legs around him in the elevator. So the skirt was the next to go. Rikku sat on the bed in nothing but her favorite yellow bikini. Hair in a ponytail. Feeling utterly exposed and self-conscious next to Lazarus, who had stripped down to nothing but the silk pants and was sitting patiently and obediently still, despite the instincts that were screaming at him to do otherwise. "All right. So, um. What now?" she asked, pulling the band from her hair. Tossing it into the pile of clothing, for lack of a better idea.
His actions answered her. Moving slowly as she'd asked, he laid down next to her and tugged her down to lie next to him. His mouth clasped hers again, pulling her lower lip between his and tracing her tongue with his, teasing it so that she grew bold enough to press inside of his mouth. While his right arm slipped between her neck and the bed, his left began to explore her body. Traced the curve of her hip, the valley of her throat and the peaks of her still-covered breasts. And Rikku... oh, she was in heaven, lying still against his chest, letting him touch and taste her. And when she grew bold, running her fingers over his torso and down to the swell in his pants, she felt a wild surge of desire stabbing her inside. She moaned into his mouth and felt his hips press closer to her hand, and his entire body was hot and pleading against hers. Her brain was so far gone at that point that she hardly noticed when he pulled on the strings of her bikini, unfastening the yellow cloth at her neck, her back, her hips. And somehow, even when she did notice that he'd pulled her clothing away, tossed the cloth to the side like the unimportant barrier it was, she didn't feel naked. She just felt real and warm against him, her chest nestling easily into his, his hands gentle and slow across her skin. And the weight of his body when he moved on top of her once more, finally nothing but a thin sheen of sweat between them, felt more comforting than restricting. She liked this sensation of being pressed down, with nothing but Lazarus on every side of her, Lazarus who kept her safe and warm and stared down into her eyes as if they were his path to salvation.
And when it happened, Rikku did not weep with emotion. She did not scream. She did not speak. She only moved against him, pressed as closely as she could to her Lazarus, her husband, her lover, her vneaht. Pressed ever closer even though it hurt a little, even though it ached. She only welcomed her other half inside, and felt truly whole for the first time in her life.