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xxmyhomexx · 20 days ago

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HEAVEN'S SECRET REQUIEM: Shower

I've replayed HSR for another slot and once again, I've chosen Dmitry. Enjoy! Meant for older readers, so please read with caution.

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Abomination after abomination. She didn't know how the squad was so used to handling them, killing and injuring. Her muscles ached, her hair was slick and wet, and her whole body suffered from fatigue. Lane wasn't used to this, she was just a cryptographer. But translating the book combined with the frequent missions Dmitry scheduled, it wasn't surprising.

The squad was clearing away old ruins some miles from Adam when an abominationd surprised them. Thankfully, no casualties were suffered, but somehow, Lane was cornered by an infected.

"Oh crap," Lane gasped. She'd run from the demon, but now it looked at her curiously. She'd manage to escape one without being harmed before, but now it was the same predicament. It could change any moment, and she needed to be ready. She remained calm, gulping down her anxiety.

"I can do this..." she told herself. The infected growled and crouched just as she reached behind her back.

"LANE!" Dmitry shouted. The monster reared its head and roared, giving her the advantage. Grunting, Lane leaped on its back, digging for the knife the general had given her. The creature growled and scratched, wriggling back and forth.

"Lane!" Dmitry sprinted into view, aiming his gun. "LANE GET OFF!"

Lane quickly jumped off the monster's back just as she unsheathed her knife. Raising it over her head, she screamed and was about to thrust it into its heart, only for a shot to ring out. Howling, the infected fell lifeless in the snowy dew, a hole protruding from where its heart should be. Lane eyed Dmitry's gun as he holstered it back.

"Hey, I had a clear aim!" She snapped.

"Really?" Dmitry panted. "A simple thank you would be enough."

"Thank you." Lane sheathed her knife and dropped against a stone wall, exhaustion overwhelming her. Reaching for his transponder, Dmitry informed everyone that the area he and Lane searched was clear. She heaved breaths, holding her sore stomach.

"Hey," Dmitry knelt over her. "Are you ok?"

"I think so. I'm so sore," she sighed. Dmitry sat beside her just as he untucked his dog tag from around his neck. Inhaling through his nose, he observed the girl sitting next to him. Her cheeks were warm, sweat glistening every part of her body and soaking her clothes. Her long black hair was a tangled, greasy mess. Talk about running a marathon, he mused with a smirk.

He didn't look so good himself. While he looked nowhere near haggard as Lane, he was exhausted from the day.

"We're clear, General," Greg's staticy voice echoed on his transponder.

"Head out. Time to go home."

Helping Lane to her feet, he wrapped one arm around her waist.

"Ugh," her nostrils flared. "I feel gross. I'm ready for a long, hot shower."

Chuckling, Dmitry nodded. "Couldn't agree more."

When Lane regained the energy to walk on her own, snow crunched under their feet as Dmitry stuffed his hands in his coat. He remembered laying with her in her bed, sleeping next to her before he had to get up and return to duty. Their first kiss was something else. When he kissed her, he almost devoured her. He wanted to taste her, slip inside and be the one she could count on most.

Maybe, just maybe, he could do this. Nodding, he cleared his throat. "You know, when I was in the military, our unit would share a shower to save water."

"Ok," Lane nodded. "You'll go first, then I'll-"

However, her footsteps halted just as the meaning sank in. "Wait..."

She whirred around, a deep crimson flushing her cheeks. Dmitry just smiled, acting as if he were all confused.

They didn't say anything when they returned to Adam. Everyone returned to their rooms, while Lane remained flustered and puzzled.

Dmitry wants to share a shower. Me, Dmitry...together?! Her body became hot and not from the layers of clothes she wore. Shuddering, she marched down to the bathroom and got to work.

Ok, ok, she wiped the mist covering the mirror. It means nothing. He's probably going to use the same stall when I'm done.

"I wish they had a tub."

Lane rolled her eyes. She grunted as she shed her coat and outfit, taking a good look at herself. Her body was banged up, but a few bumps were nothing when dealing with the apocalypse. She winced as her sore feet lead her inside one of the stalls.

Leaning over the wall, she took in a sharp breath as she turned water on. A heavy stream soaked her back, thighs, and legs. Hissing, she grunted and threaded her hair through her fingers.

"Aaah." The pressure relaxed the fatigue. The water was warm, and she wouldn't be leaving for awhile. All the dirt, sweat and muck clinging to her soaked the floor in a muddy, filthy trail down the drain.

"Much better," she smiled to herself. The tranquility lasted only seconds when the door to the bathroom opened and closed with an audible click. Her stomach dropped when she remembered Dmitry's words.

"Our unit would share a shower to save water."

"No, no, he doesn't mean it like THAT!" She snapped over the water trailing down her back.

"Mean it like what?!" A voice echoed outside. Lane yelped, pulling back the curtains. Of course she was wrong. There he was, the top man himself. He was already shedding his outer shirt.

"God, Dmitry," Lane pursed her lips. "What are you doing here?"

He frowned. "Taking a shower."

Oh, he meant it. He meant every word. Lane's cheeks brightened as he slid the first layer over his head, followed by the inner. It clung to his body, showing off those muscles and scars she traced when he spent the night with her. Sliding the curtain back, her chest started heaving.

"Fuck!" She cursed at herself. "Agh!"

Her stomach throbbed as she sucked it all the way in. The sensation lasted a couple seconds before it dulled, pulling her attention away from the man peeking behind the curtains. He watched as she arched her back, rubbing her lower belly with her fingers.

Dmitry's eyes traveled across the movements. Her skin indented with her nails and tips, and when she was finished, she rose gracefully. Her head rested on the crook of her forearms, fatigue still fighting to claim her.

"Hey," he caught her attention. He'd already shed the remainder of his clothing, only wearing the dog tags around his neck. Still, Lane refused to turn around.

"What is it?" The shower enveloped them both in a low, heavy stream.

"I'm sore."

"Let me see."

Lane froze as one of Dmitry's arms circled her waist. Even with slippery fingers, his weight bore on her. Gently, he applied pressure to where it hurt most.

"Agh!" Lane grunted. "Unf..."

"Does it hurt here?"

"Yep," she confirmed. "You found it."

"You're incredibly tense. Relax your shoulders and back."

Lane obeyed. The pressure wanted to make her recoil, yet the muslces loosened up. His hands slid from her stomach to her the small of her back. Both of his thumbs kneaded the tightness and pain, circling up in between her shoulders.

"Oooh...ow!"

"I'm almost done," Dmitry assured her. His palms flattened against her shoulders, giving two more rubs until her back was red. Lane sighed, audible gasps eminating her lungs. Now she felt amazing. Silently, she finally allowed herself to turn around. Dmitry flexed his fingers and rubbed his palms together. Water pounded on his back, splashing small droplets everywhere. His voluminous hair stuck to his face, but even wet, she remembered him all to well when he saved her from drowning and standing in the rain.

"This is nothing new."

"Thank you," she grinned. "Thank you very much."

"Of course."

Swallowing, Lane noticed he effectively caged her against the wall. The cool marble prickled goosebumps along her skin. She gulped and covered herself with her arms, turning her back on him.

"Lane..." Dmitry's laid his hands on her shoulders. "Look at me."

"We're sharing a shower. I though you might want some privacy."

Privacy? Really, how stupid am I? She wiped her eyes, daring herself to look at him. She shifted her weight so she was now in his arms. Gradually, her body relaxed, allowing her to rest her head against his chest.

The fly was caught in the spider's web. Only, was Dmitry really caught? No, he wasn't. He caressed her head as she tightened her arms around him. Finally, finally, in this moment, she belonged to him.

Something metalic tickled her cheek, and she saw he still wore Pavel's dog tag around his neck. He must have forgotten to take if off, or maybe he wears it as much as he can.

Looking into her eyes, Dmitry could take it no more. He wanted more, he wanted her. He needed her. Grabbing a fist full of hair, he slammed his lips against hers.

"Mmmph!" Lane's voice was muffled by Dmitry's insistent tongue. She surrendered immediately, closing her eyes and returning the kiss.

Hoisting her by her thighs, Dmitry held her against the marble wall. Water continued to rain down on them. Lane tilted her head back, allowing him access to her wet skin.

"Oooh..."

She liked that. His lips kissed and nipped a path across her neck, down where droplets trailed between her breasts toward her navel. Arching her back for more access, her breath hitched as he stopped.

"What-what are you...hah!" Lane covered her mouth to prevent a cry that could echo through the bathroom. She gritted her teeth hard enough to almost crack.

She'd never experienced this kind of pleasure before. She wasn't new to this, but nothing prepared her for someone like Dmitry. Whimpering, Lane balanced herself by placing one hand on the wall. Her other hand tangled in Dmitry's hair.

"D-Dmitry..."

Just as she was about to tip over the edge, Dmitry stood back up. He turned Lane around and pushed her against the wall with a wet thump.

Gasping, the cold metal of his dog tag made her shiver as he kissed the crook of her neck. One hand slinked around her kneading her breasts while the other slid down her stomach. Lane wriggled in his grip at the foreign sensation.

"Hush now. It's supposed to make you feel good."

"Wait," she begged. "I can't-"

She bit her lip, trying her best to hold on. Her thighs locked together around his hand, desperate to hold on. It was too much, the pleasure from his fingers combined with his mouth covering her shoulders and back in hundreds of kisses.

When it became almost unbearable, Dmitry stopped. He turned her back around and wrapped one hand around her neck, tenderly gripping it.

"Are you ready?" He gently bit down on the lobe of her ear.

"Yes," Lane gasped. "Please, Dmitry."

She closed her eyes as she heard the sound of plastic ripping followed by a free arm lifting one of her legs. Tensing, she hissed as he positioned himself.

"Relax. It'll make a huge difference."

"I-I'm scared."

"You have nothing to fear," Dmitry reassured her. "As long as I'm here. I'll always protect you, Lane."

Her heart soared that she had to swallow a lump in her throat. Nodding, she relaxed just as Dmitry got ready.

"Mmmph..." Lane shut her eyes.

"It's ok," Dmitry whispered. "One, two..."

In an instant, Lane's walls crumbled. The sensation was tight, tighter than she could remember. She wasn't inexperienced, but her eyes widened. Even the water from the shower couldn't mask how she felt in this moment.

"Augh!" She covered her mouth.

"Does it hurt?"

Shaking her head, Lane's body began to mold with his. Now, all she could feel was the ecstasy promised to follow.

"No...it's amazing."

Smiling, Dmitry hoisted her in his arms so they were eye level now. Lane kissed him as he started to move, slow and steady. Their bodies writhed against one another as she slipped her arms underneath his. He grasped her thighs so hard he was bound to leave nail indents, possibly even bruises, but Lane no longer cared.

The scars all over Dmitry's body rippled as he took his time with her. Lane always wondered what it'd be like to explore them, to run her fingers across them and know their stories.

"Wait," Dmitry stopped his movements. "My turn."

Kissing him again, she slipped from his grip and gently pushed him against the wall. Now in front of him, she surveyed the portrait of scars. From his legs, his arms, and entire back, she didn't know where to start. Swallowing, she lifted one hand and saw his arms.

"Go ahead," Dmitry nodded. "I don't mind."

And that was all the invitation she needed. She started with his arms, running her finger tips over them. Overwhelmed, she hugged him. Her fingers traced the thick scars along his back, her head nestled against his chest. Tears gathered in her eyes, choking on sobs.

"What?" Dmitry looked down. "What's wrong?"

"N-nothing," Lane gulped. "I just..."

It was hard to explain. She didn't know exactly what was happening, or why she even was crying. Dmitry didn't ask questions, just held her tightly as he gently cupped her face wiping the tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"T-turn around."

Doing so, Dmitry felt the sensation of Lane's lips cascading over his back. Every scar she kissed, a deep hollow breath exited his lungs. He hadn't felt a woman's touch in a long, long time. When the world went to hell, the only thing that mattered was his squad and his sister. There was no room for love, feelings like that made him weak. What a fool he was, love wasn't weak.

In fact it made him feel stronger than ever before. Lane was his outlook. She didn't judge him, never spoke against him, and was never afraid to risk her life even if it meant disobeying a direct order. The way she trusted the squad, the way they trusted her, he'd grown to respect her.

Her arms suddenly slid under his and around his waist. Eyeing them, she grazed the scars across his biceps with her nails, taking special interest in the deeper ones. When she slid them to his torso, he clutched one of them, squeezing it.

Turning back around, he slipped his tongue between her teeth, tasting every inch of that insanely delectable mouth. He hoisted one leg around his waist and moved with her in rhythm. Tilting her head back, Dmitry sucked the skin of her throat.

"Mmmph..."

Suddenly, he pinned her against the wall from behind.

"Oh..."

"Do you like this?"

"Yes," she gasped. "Keep going, keep going..."

Closing her eyes, the pleasure built faster as he sucked her skin and his free hand explored. Her moans reverberated through the shower, fogging up the bathroom. Dmitry brought her hand to his cheek, supporting her weight.

"Oh, God, Dmitry..."

"Let it out, Lane," he told her. "Let it out."

With one final push, he buried his face in her hair. Lane's mangled cries echoed, desperate not to scream. Dmitry grunted, tightening his hold on her. Before long, Lane went limp, almost falling to the floor if not for the general's arm around her waist.

Panting, Lane held onto him tight. "Don't let me go, Dmitry."

"Never, Lane. Never."

Smiling, she closed her eyes as he began to lather her body in soap. His thick fingers glided through her hair, shampooing the roots and ends. Soon, she did the same with Dmitry, both rinsing off. The shower was still warm, neither of them wanting to leave.

Taking her hand, Dmitry turned off the water. Neither of them spoke, but words weren't needed after what happened. As they dried off and dressed, they left the bathroom together. Dmitry lead Lane to his room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

Lane wore one of his shirts that night, laying on top of him.

"What will the squad think of us?" she looked in his eyes.

"Let them think whatever they want. I don't care."

"Me neither."

Dmitry kissed her forehead and soon, both were asleep dreaming of a better future.

#romance club #heaven's secret requiem #lane #dmitry

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