Nothing-but-treble-12 prompted: For the ficlet meme: Leo and April, "You're teasing me."

ooo

SAINWverse.

"You're teasing me."

He was so serious about it, she couldn't help but laugh. It was a strange sound to echo off the cracked and crumbling walls, their bleak surroundings turning the cry of joy into a mocking cackle that made her skin prickle.

Leonardo's scarred face, startlingly vulnerable without the dark glasses he always wore beyond the confines of this dank little sanctuary they had carved out for themselves, gazed at her solemnly as she dipped the rag back into the bucket of lukewarm water. The oily surface flickered with iridescence as she squeezed the rag out, but it was the cleanest water she'd been able to find and even though it was a futile task, it felt good to bathe. It was such a normal thing to do, in a world where normal things had become painfully rare, fleeting pleasures that came upon them too fast, too unexpectedly, and then were gone again before they could be fully appreciated, leaving behind only a yearning memory. Who could ever have anticipated that the rays of the sun, once presumed so constant, could feel so much like a kiss on her deprived cheeks? Or that moments later, when it was obscured again by the toxic darkness, she would feel herself wilt, the lingering warmth all too quickly fading as she strove desperately to commit it to memory, to recall in quiet moments that never satisfied, or comforted, or did anything at all but make her heart ache.

She lifted the rag back to her breasts, feeling the tender flesh softly wobble as she washed them, ran it under her arms then over them, the air cool on her wet skin. Leonardo continued to watch from the pile of ragged blankets they used as a bed, his gaze tracing the lean curves of her battle-hardened figure. She had not intended to tease him, but the way he watched her now made her cheeks flush and her nipples pricked in a way that had nothing to do with her chilled skin. It had been so long since she had been made so aware of her femininity, what vestiges remained beneath the scars that littered her once butter-soft flesh, and the sinewy toughness of her malnourished body, the roughness of her hair and the weary sadness etched into her face. She knew it was ridiculous: they were in a burnt out shell of an apartment, and she sat on an old stool and washed herself with a tatty rag and cold, oily water, but somehow, beneath his gaze, she felt beautiful again, sensual. She'd forgotten how it felt to be admired and the foolish heart of her enjoyed it.

Leonardo got up from their makeshift bed and she couldn't help the catch in her breath at the fluid movement, the shift of his powerful thigh muscles as he approached her. She didn't look up at him as he drew to her side, but every inch of her tingled at his proximity and she felt her pulse quicken. His hand reached out and closed around hers, gently taking the rag away and her breasts rose and fell as her breathing increased. He knelt in front of her, gazing at her intently as he dipped the rag into the water and then began to smooth and rub it over her skin, following its path with burning kisses that chased away the chill.

April sighed, bit her lip, her spine arching as Leonardo's mouth moved hotly over her breasts, down her belly and over the jut of her hipbone, the rag softly sweeping over her flesh in a way that made her shiver. She parted her legs for him wantonly as the rising desire flared in her loins, the aching need to be touched there stoked by the teasing, adoring trail of the kisses he pressed so tenderly against her body. Each scalding kiss felt like the glow of the sun, warming her flesh until she seemed to bloom, until she was nothing more than a being of golden bliss basking beneath his attention, shivering with every wave of pleasure as his head moved between her thighs. With his light to bolster her, she would not fade.