Everything Looks Better Ch. 06

"You creep. It's water," she muttered.

He faintly smiled. "Happy now?"

"I can't get drunk on water."

"Precisely," he mocked in monotone.

"Then why didn't you want me to drink it?"

"It's holy."

"Uh," she grimaced, replaced the cork with a pound of her fist and set the jug on the bedside table. Wiping the water off the front of her pajamas, she asked, "It's not going to boil my insides, is it?"

"It shouldn't," he chuckled and returned to the table to resume his chore.

Considering how weak her stomach was today, getting drunk was probably the last thing she should be doing. Auron probably wouldn't be as forgiving if she puked on him a second time. Flopping face down on the bed, Raine exhaled a weary sigh. "Can you teach me to do that?"

Auron peered up from his sword, his brow creased doubtfully. "Really? I've asked you before if you wanted to learn."

"I'm bored," she said with a shrug. And it hurts to think.

"Clearly it's a new low of boredom."

He continued to wipe the sword, saying nothing more, and Raine rested her cheek on her folded arms, resigned to just watch. How many more nights until she'd be watching him sharpen his sword before the final battle? This thought was promptly followed by a distant twinge in the center of her hollow gut.

When he had removed all the oil from his blade, he ceremoniously uncovered the stones from their protective velvet cloths and inserted the coarsest one into the square depression on the wooden sharpening box, which was stained from minor water damage. He had acquired a sharpening kit much like this one in Zanarkand and watching him use it was a common occurrence in the houseboat. In fact, she had fuzzy memories of him teaching Tidus how to sharpen a sword when they were young.

"Will you fetch me a glass of water?" Auron asked without looking up.

Scrambling off the bed, she felt a little like a girl again, anxious to help. Grabbing a clean glass from the dish cart by the door, Raine went into the bathroom and ran the tap, filling the glass about three-fourths full. A memory vapor emerged in her mind's eye: Raine was around 12, filling a plastic cup back at her childhood home, in the deep, rusty sink in the utility room by the back door. Auron was with Tidus in the backyard, stressing the importance of sword safety as he set up the sharpening stones on the patio table by the grill. Will you fetch me a glass of water? Auron had asked her and Raine jumped up to get it, excited to be included in their activities for once.

Auron was inspecting the edge of the blade for small notches and didn't say anything when Raine came back with the water. She set it by the box and sat at the corner of the bed and crossed her legs, waiting to be entertained. When he was satisfied with the condition of his sword, he aimed his glasses at her from over the top of his collar.

"Well?"

Raine grinned and leaped up, standing by with anticipation while he poured a little water on the grey stone.

"Start hilt side and touch it to the stone at an angle," Auron said, demonstrating for her with strong, capable hands, easily sliding the obsidian blade across the stone. The sword was almost as wide as his fingers were long and the sword's length rivaled the diameter of the table from hilt to sword tip. Holding the sword in place by the handle, Auron sidestepped away to give her room to take over. "Ready to try?"

Realizing she hadn't touched his sword since that first day at the houseboat, when she'd spent all morning drilling brackets to the wall in the room she was saving for him, Raine approached tentatively, placing her hands on the smooth blade the way he had, her fingers fringing carefully to the sharp edge. Her hands were hardly large enough and her thumbs merely hooked around the dull side for stability. Auron let go of the hilt slowly to make sure she had control of it and Raine had forgotten how heavy it was. It had to be twenty times heavier than the Enchanted Rod and she could feel its weight in her arms and shoulders.

"Slide it diagonally," Auron said, keeping his voice low and even, although the tension in his body told Raine he didn't quite trust her with it yet.

Raine's attempt was jerky and rough, not at all the way Auron glided it naturally across the stone, and she was abruptly halted by a high screech, like she was sharpening his sword on a chalkboard. The sound made her violently shiver and Auron prickled. This was not the constant metallic rasp that lulled her to sleep those nights at the houseboat.

She grimaced, partly in apology, partly from the awful noise. "Sorry."

Humbled by the difficulty of the task, Raine searched for the right angle, but Auron stopped her and examined more closely the blade, his thumbnail scratching a noticeable nick, the result of Raine's inexperience.

"I would stick to Summoning if I were you," Auron murmured.

Raine's face reddened, her belly sinking miserably. "That bad?"

"Indubitably." The skin around Auron's eyes wrinkled as he targeted her with his sunglasses.

She smirked. "Did you just make a joke? At my expense?"

A rumble of muffled laughter bubbled over the barricade of his collar.

She stepped back, offering the sword back to its owner. "Maybe you should do this."

Auron caught her by the small of her back and hauled her back towards the table. "You can do it."

Raine repositioned the sword, but was immobilized with thrown confidence.

"Here." Auron shuffled up behind her, his biceps trapping her as his hands came up alongside hers, adjusting the sword's angle. His chest pressed against her shoulder blades and Raine held her breath as she tried again, Auron guiding. Her hands trembled as the blade slid skillfully across the stone and when Auron clasped his hands over hers to still them, his corresponding chuckle sounded very close to her ear.

"See this sludge?" he asked softly, stopping to indicate the shavings of steel on the stone. His voice vibrated on her spine and when his mouth moved, his beard scraped the delicate skin on her temple.

She nodded numbly, too distracted by the toughness of his callouses on the back of her knuckles to be properly instructed. Auron rinsed the sludge away with another trickle of water, ran his palm over the stone, and then flicked the water off his fingers before he placed his hand back over hers. She forced herself to pay attention, to actively contribute, lest he stop the lesson for her lack of concentration.

A few minutes later, he lowered the blade down a few inches to work on another section of the sword, shifting, his hip bumping her and Raine felt the start of an erection brush against her backside. Stiffening, she sharply inhaled, something fleeting quivered in place of the belly-ache void. She attributed his reaction to the anticipation of battle, a likely response from readying his blade, but the quick, productive sword strokes had already turned torpid, the wind of his ragged breath deafening in her ear.

When the timing was right, Raine nudged backwards, feeling an unmistakable jab of rigidity, and he seemed unable to help himself when he flexed his groin forward, pinching her hips against the edge of the table. Her heart immediately throbbed, her skin scorching under her arms and between her legs. A cold sheet of sweat came out of every pore.

"I know what you're doing," he muttered. "I can't say I approve of this method of escapism, either."

"Something approves," she said and arched her rear against his erection.

Auron groaned. "It irritates me when you provoke me for a reaction."

"You still owe me a dying wish," Raine whispered. The sword in front of her went still, but neither of them let go, and her head tilted sideways as one of the cold buckles of his collar dug into her earlobe.

"I'm not a genie," he grumbled.

"You don't have to be for my wish." Raine sagged against him. "Besides, it's my wedding night."

"Yes, I suppose it is," he said and his icy tone startled Raine. Her shoulders went cold as he backed away and she was briskly cast aside as he attended to his sword, carefully laying it down on the table. "You should go to bed."

The stab of rejection was painful for Raine as Auron steered her around to the bed by her shoulders. He lifted the coverlet and Raine crawled underneath, dejected, lying like a board on her back as he covered her. Aside from today, Auron hadn't tucked her into bed since she was 7 years old; on those nights her mother worked late and couldn't get a sitter. She thought he might kiss her on the forehead, but he didn't even offer that, and he kept his sunglasses averted as he turned off the lamp next to her.

Roaming the room, Auron flicked off the rest of the lights, except for the dim one on the dresser—as though she still needed a nightlight to sleep with—and began to put away his sharpening kit, slowly, methodically as he usually did, making sure all the different grit stones were wrapped in their proper sleeves. Eventually, Raine knew he would settle into the arm chair he'd positioned across from the bed to watch her sleep, like the dutiful Guardian he was, like he always had been. And she would have to sleep this way, silently suffering with sexual strain, knowing he was watching her, knowing he would be thinking about the last thing she said to him tonight. It's my wedding night...

With heavy sadness, Raine turned on her side, hugging herself, trying to squeeze the hollow out of her, but the ache only flared. Covertly, she twisted her ring close to her face, letting the soft light from the dresser bounce off the pear-shaped diamond. She felt like throwing the quilt over her head and bawling, but she resorted to anger instead, plotting a maddening silent treatment that would last no less than two days, more if she was still cross by the end of it. All these years, she'd fought to change their dynamic, but no matter how much she tried, Auron would always think of her as that 4-year old who couldn't pronounce her R's. Perhaps he was right. Obviously, her first instincts to flip the blankets over her and cry lacked maturity.

Hearing the casual click of Auron's collar snaps, Raine peered over the hill of covers at her shoulder. Collar loose, Auron was lifting his leather harness over his head, showing her again his thick, dark chest hair. He braced the armor up in the chair before facing her. He put a knee up and the mattress sunk as he crawled onto the bed. Raine started, chest thrumming crazily, and she brought her knees in to give him room.

Expression flat, Auron kneeled forward in the space between her raised knees and Raine sat up to meet him. She opened her mouth and Auron's steady lips sealed against hers, guarded, his stubble cutting into her chin and upper lip. During their steely kiss, a slideshow of old fantasies scrolled in her mind from when she was 17, dreaming of Auron undressing her slowly, coating her naked parts in kisses, leisurely bringing her to a gentle climax. She speculated how he would compare.

Gathering all the hair he could manage in his fist, he squeezed it in a clump at the back of her head and when he had enough of her mouth, he yanked her hair, bending her head straight back. He gazed down impassively, assessing her with unsettling disconnection, the lenses of his sunglasses little round mirrors over his eyes to hide what he was thinking, and they didn't leave her face as he walked closer to her on his knees. Raine felt self-conscious to be panting so heavily so soon and she swallowed, forcing quick, shallow breathes through her nose.

He kissed her again, this time urgent, demanding, his beard severe on her face, his tongue filling her mouth. His moan of relief vibrated on her lips and Raine was equally pleased their kiss was not repulsive, like kissing a family member, although Raine found herself elated by an elusive thread of delicious wrongness. Maybe it was their gaping age difference or the act of sullying the intended pure nature between Summoner and Guardian, or maybe it was the surfacing of Raine's unresolved father issues.

Whatever it was, it was wickedly intensified as Auron's hand made a scooping motion between her legs, assertively cupping her humid sex, massaging her through the flannel with a sure thumb. She gasped into his mouth. A moment later, Auron's rigidness pressed against her belly and he swung an arm around her back to brace her as he rubbed it against her ribs, fervently seeking gratification, so unseemly out of character. Letting naughtiness take over, she clutched onto his buttocks, urging him to grind against her, and he did, clenching under her touch, their tongues tangling.

After enduring Auron's assault on her ribs, Raine wanted to see it and she rifled for the drawstrings of his breeches, but before she could untie them, Auron scooted back. Raine feared the return of his lucidity, but he immediately began working at the elastic of her pajama bottoms. She propped herself on her hands, bucking her hips off the bed to help his effort as he jerked them over her hips and the sudden movement of it threw her back against the pillows. Off came her new, pretty white underwear with hardly a second look, discarded onto the floor. Auron grabbed under her knees, towing her roughly across the bed, her head skimming off the pillows. Deliberately, his face turned down to examine her fair-colored pubic hair. There was nothing in his expression to show his approval, or disapproval, except for a flex of his jaw muscle, which could have meant either. Growing wetter with just the caress of his eye, Raine filled her fists with bedding.

His sunglasses targeted her breasts next, fingertips grazing along her hips to the lowest buttons on her flannel shirt, undoing them slowly, leaning on one hand, hovering over her to reach the top ones, and shifting the lapels obliquely to expose her. Raine found herself frozen, holding her breath, her breasts felt huge under his scrutiny. His scratchy hand came up to caress one, his thumb circling the nipple, snaring it in a firm pinch and Raine let out a hasty sigh. His face dipped to the other breast, his tongue still cool from the iced tea, like he'd been sucking on the ice cubes, and her nipple wrinkled frigidly, his whiskers chafing the sensitive skin. She felt the pressure of him sucking, her breast weightless, and a soft bubble of her own warm liquid popped between her legs, squirting on her inner thighs. She squirmed from the maddening itch. Releasing her with a wet smack, Auron's eye burned over the top of his sunglasses.

"You are sure?" he husked, his voice raspier than normal.

Swallowing, a strangled moan came out of her mouth. "Yes," she croaked. So far, he was living up to her late night fantasies.

Never taking the aim of his glasses off her, he sat back on his ankles, and Raine noticed for the first time his dark braid had slid forward, the distressed pink ribbon with blue dots catching in the hair on his stomach, until he brushed it back over his shoulder.

Testing her gently with a long, thin finger, Auron slid knuckle deep inside her, effortlessly, and Raine thought she saw the ghost of a smug smile on his lips before he gravely wrinkled his brow, taking her approaching climax very seriously. For that, she forgave his cold fingers. He dragged his thumb gradually between her pubic lips, collecting her moisture, languidly circling her slippery clitoris. She tightened, the smolder between her legs building, her back arching off the mattress.

If Auron felt any desire for her at all, he was taking great strides to hide it from her. His lips were compressed; his only motivation sparked from a cruel mixture of obligation and duty. He was rougher than Jory, but still more present and aware of her body than Jory ever was. Raine absorbed Auron's every twitch, every constriction of his face, wriggling her hips to the rhythm of his skilled fingers and she absently wondered where he managed to gain his experience after two decades of minding her family. For many years, she had been curious how he made love and there was a long time after he mentioned he was a monk she thought he was celibate, but the swift, efficient way he was bringing her to orgasm was anything but beginner's luck.

Auron shoved her knees apart and dropped his mouth between her thighs. Raine's head jolted off the coverlet, but she wasn't quick enough to catch him.

"You don't have to—Auron, you don't—" she said between breaths.

Jory had been squeamish about putting his mouth there and she had become self-conscious about the smell and taste and wasn't in the habit of grooming her private area. She reached down between her thighs to pat his forelock, but his tongue was already lapping in her folds. She writhed involuntarily as he licked the apex of her vagina.

"Auron," she mewled.

He growled something unintelligible in response and shivers split up her spine. Gripping the back of her legs, Auron eased her into a folded position, the start of a reverse cartwheel.

Her knees almost touching her breasts, she felt the virtual suffocation of being bent in half. Auron's tongue probed once into the channel of her vagina, but it was not his true destination as he continued south, poking boldly into her tight crater. Gasping with difficulty, Raine's eyes smashed shut. His breath was chilly between her buttocks, and it made the ring of muscle there reflexively contract. No one had ever touched her there, not a mouth and certainly not a tongue. Auron penetrated further, stretching her sphincter, eliciting from her a shameless groan that shocked her. The relief when he removed his tongue was uniquely erogenous, but he gave her little time to recover as he dove into her public lips, now more sensitive than ever. Bobbing back and forth, anus to clitoris, he didn't let her rest and she began building, knees shaking uncontrollably, the pleasure not like anything she felt before.

"Turn over," he grated.

There was no time to consider. Auron twisted her legs until she was face down on the bedspread. He grabbed her hips, yanking her up on her knees, her rear sticking lewdly in the air for him to see, but he couldn't have spent too much time studying her as he groped her butt cheeks, using his thumbs to spread them apart. If it was possible, she felt more naked. His tongue was in her again, his face shoving into her backside and one of his large hands slipped between her slick thighs, running his finger through her pubic pleats. Lasciviously moaning into the coverlet, Raine's eyes shut again, grasping the side of the mattress with her fist. She couldn't keep still, her rump bobbing wildly against his face.

She couldn't believe what he was doing to her, the places he was touching, considering this morning, how awkwardly he unzipped her dress. Now he was brazenly exploring her most secret places.

A flurry of hurried kisses on her rear-end signaled a transition was coming and she could feel him changing positions. She tensed from the uncertainty. She heard the wispy shift of his trousers and then the fleshy slap of his erection as it spanked against her drenched inner thigh. Her knuckles went white clutching at the sheets, the vacancy in Raine's stomach replaced with a surge of panic as she took stock of the places he might impale her. One of those places was virginal and nowhere near ready for anything bigger than his tongue, a fact she was 100% certain of when he nudged the head of his cock between her buttocks, sliding it obscenely up and down her crack. She couldn't tell if he was searching or teasing, but he felt strangely cold. Raine whined tremulously through her nose, a faint pleading sound. After all this time protecting her, he would be cautious not to hurt her, wouldn't he?