R-18: RAIN-KISSED GOODBYE

People ran for cover outside, and umbrellas opened as the clouds spat out their beads of water. But the two individuals in the dark alley were dancing in the rain. They held hands, swaying slowly, their eyes fixed on one another.

"We always meet on a rainy day," Serge said as he pulled her closer to him.

Alice giggled. "You know I love the rain."

"Dancing while the rain washed away the blood of our fallen men," Serge whispered.

It wasn’t unusual for them to be in situations like this—somewhere they shouldn’t be, doing something they couldn’t explain. They were both the children of mafia leaders. Their families had been enemies for as long as either of them could remember, locked in a constant struggle to take control. Neither side had won, but that didn’t stop them from trying.

_________

𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌

Serge was pinned down on the cold ground with Alice on top of him, pointing her gun at his temple.

"You really shouldn't be so trusting," she sneered in his face. "The world is a dangerous place."

If it wasn’t for her tattoo that represented the Colleti family, he never would have guessed she was the daughter of the mafia leader.

"We are all evil, and we made this world our own hell," Serge replied with a chuckle. He was taken aback when she pressed the pistol against his head harder.

Her fingers tightened around the trigger. But before he could stop himself, Serge did the most unexpected thing in that moment — he kissed her. He kissed his enemy.

Alice abruptly stood up. Gunfire could be heard, followed by someone yelling. Perhaps it was one of their men rushing to the combat zone to check if the heirs were all right. She left Serge with two gunshots as a reminder of their meeting.

It had been six months since that first clash, and now they stood facing each other again. This time, both were armed and ready to shoot if the other dared cross the line.

“Oh, you’re still alive?” Alice sneered.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Serge chuckled. “I might think you don’t like me.”

Alice’s face twisted with rage, and she lunged, fists flying. Blows, counters, kicks, and punches came faster and more vicious with each passing second. Serge landed a few hits of his own before his hand clamped around her neck, choking her. She fought back, kicking and striking at him, trying to break free.

A brutal punch sent Alice tumbling. She rolled, using her feet to kick him in return. They traded hits until both collapsed from exhaustion, lying on the ground gasping and bleeding from numerous wounds.

Neither realized someone had been watching. Judging by his outfit, he was a member of one of the mafia families. He took a photo of the two of them lying there.

𝑬𝒏𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝑭𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌

______

Serge twirled her around, using every minute before their families arrived to inspect the battlefield. This was the only time they could be together, especially now that eyes were on them. Their families had grown suspicious of how often they crossed paths and walked away alive.

“Make love to me,” she whispered against his lips. His hands tightened on her hips possessively, as if promising never to let go.

A moan escaped her mouth once he did that. She felt a shiver run through her body. She broke the kiss and stared straight into Serge's eyes. He smirked, his thumb running across her bottom lip before his hands went to cup her face. Their foreheads touched as his eyes scanned her face. Alice felt a smile forming on her lips. He pulled her closer as Alice's arms wrap around his neck.

They were lost somewhere within themselves as they continued to kiss one another. The sound of thunder resonated in the air. They knew it's only a matter of time before the rain stopped. Yet they kept kissing, savoring the taste of each other's lips.

Serge’s hands slid down from her face to the curve of her waist, pulling her tightly against him. The wet fabric of her clothes clung to her skin, outlining every shape and curve. He could feel the heat of her body beneath the chill of the rain.

Alice’s breath came faster, mixing with his as their mouths met again. His lips trailed from hers to her jaw, then down to the sensitive spot just below her ear. She tilted her head slightly, giving him room, her fingers threading through his soaked hair.

“You drive me crazy,” he muttered against her skin, his voice rough and low.

A small laugh left her, but it was cut short when his hands roamed lower, gripping the back of her thighs and lifting her effortlessly. Instinctively, her legs wrapped around his waist. Serge pressed her back against the cool brick wall of the alley, his body holding her in place.

The rain poured harder, drumming against the metal trash bins nearby, masking the sound of their ragged breathing. Alice’s hands roamed over his shoulders, down his chest, feeling the hard lines of muscle beneath his shirt.

Their eyes met again, and this time there was no hesitation. The world outside the alley didn’t exist, only the heat between them, the pounding of their hearts, and the rain that seemed determined to baptize their sin.

His hands roamed beneath the hem of her wet shirt, fingers splaying across the bare skin of her waist. She gasped against his lips when his cold, rain-slick hands met her warmth.

Alice arched into him, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. His touch was slow but deliberate, sliding up to feel the curve of her ribs, the swell of her breasts beneath the soaked fabric. She shivered—half from the rain, half from him.

“You sure about this?” he asked, his forehead resting against hers, his breathing heavy.

Instead of answering, Alice tugged at his shirt, her fingers fumbling with the clinging material until she managed to pull it over his head. His skin was warm despite the rain, his chest hard and sculpted. Her hands explored him greedily, tracing the scars that told the stories of their dangerous lives.

Serge’s lips trailed down her neck, sucking gently at her collarbone before biting just enough to make her gasp. He loved the way her body tensed, then melted in his arms. His hands slid lower, gripping her thighs again, pressing himself firmly against her so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him.

Alice clung to him, her nails dragging down his bare back, leaving faint red lines the rain couldn’t wash away. Her breath hitched when Serge pressed harder against her, his body demanding hers, the heat between them undeniable. The wall was rough at her back, but she didn’t care—pain and pleasure blurred, feeding the fire already consuming them.

Her lips found his again, desperate, hungry, as though she were memorizing every inch of his mouth, every flick of his tongue. Serge noticed it, the way she kissed him like each second mattered, like she was drinking him in before he slipped away.

The thought made something twist in his chest, but he shoved it aside, lifting her higher against the wall. She gasped when he pressed his hardness against her core through the soaked fabric of her pants.

“Serge…” his name spilled from her lips, half-moan, half-prayer.

His hand slipped between them, fumbling at her waistband until he pushed the wet fabric down just enough. She shuddered when his fingers brushed against her, teasing, stroking, pulling soft gasps from her throat.

The rain poured harder, thunder rolling above them, as though the sky itself mourned and celebrated their sin all at once. Alice arched into his hand, her cries muffled against his shoulder, her teeth sinking lightly into his skin to silence herself.

Serge couldn’t take it anymore. He freed himself quickly, the urgency in him too strong to resist. Pressing her tighter against the wall, he pushed into her with a groan that was swallowed by the storm. Alice cried out, her arms tightening around his neck, her body trembling with the shock of him filling her completely.

“Fuck…” Serge hissed, his face buried in her neck. The feel of her, the heat, the way she clenched around him—it was overwhelming. He stayed buried inside her, their bodies locked together, the heat of her wrapping around him so perfectly that it stole his breath.

For a moment, they only breathed each other in. Rain traced the curve of her throat, slid between their pressed bodies, chilled their skin even as the fire between them burned hotter. Serge lifted his head, his lips brushing over hers without kissing, tasting the storm on her mouth, watching her eyes flutter half-shut with something deeper than lust.

When he finally moved, it was slow, deliberate, his hips rolling into hers as if he wanted to carve the rhythm into her bones. Alice gasped, her head tipping back against the wall, the rain catching on her lashes. He kissed down her jaw, her throat, each drag of his mouth unhurried, reverent, as though he wanted to worship her in secret.

Her moans came softer now, almost broken, each one tugging at something in his chest he didn’t have words for. Serge drove into her again, harder this time, and she clung tighter, her legs trembling around his waist.

“Don’t stop…” she whispered, her voice nearly lost to the storm. The way she said it—it didn’t sound like a command. It sounded like a goodbye.

He drove into her harder, again and again, the sound of their bodies colliding hidden beneath the rain’s roar.

Alice moved with him, meeting each thrust, her gasps growing louder, more urgent. But underneath her moans, there was something else—a tremor, a fragility—as if she were holding on not just to the moment, but to life itself.

Her lips pressed feverishly against his jaw, his throat, his mouth, kisses scattered everywhere, rushed and desperate, as if she couldn’t decide which part of him to cherish last. Serge slowed for a second, cupping her face, confused by the tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks.

“Hey… what’s wrong?” he murmured, still moving inside her, though softer now.

Alice only shook her head, pulling him back into another kiss, deeper than the rest, her tongue tangling with his as though to silence his questions. She didn’t want to explain. She didn’t want to ruin this. All she wanted was him—one last time.

“Harder,” she whispered, then choked on another cry as he gave her exactly what she asked for.

Serge groaned into her mouth, swallowing her moans, tasting the salt of tears mixed with rain. Something about it unhinged him, this wild desperation, this urgency that felt like more than lust. He lost control of the rhythm, driving into her harder, faster, chasing the sound of her cries like a man possessed.

“Say my name,” he growled against her lips.

“Serge—ahh—Serge…” she gasped, her head falling back against the bricks, eyes fluttering shut as another moan tore through her throat.

Her voice nearly undid him. He pressed his forehead against hers, breathing hard, feeling her clench around him with every thrust. Her body was trembling, quaking with each movement, and the way she held him tight, desperate—sent a shiver of fear through him. Fear that this wasn’t just passion. Fear that this was goodbye.

Alice’s lips brushed his ear as she whispered, breathless, broken: “Don’t let go of me. Not yet.”

That plea gutted him. His thrusts slowed for only a heartbeat before he slammed into her again, harder, his jaw clenched, his teeth grit against the flood of emotion rising in his chest.

Her moans pitched higher, her back arching against the wall as her release tore through her, a shuddering cry muffled by his kiss. She clung to him like she was being ripped apart, every muscle in her body tensing around his as waves of pleasure consumed her.

Serge couldn’t hold back anymore. The sound of her release, the way she quaked against him, the tight, wet heat of her pulling him deeper, it drove him over the edge. With a guttural groan, he buried himself inside her and spilled, his body jerking with the force of it.

For a long moment, there was only the storm and their mingled gasps, their bodies pressed so tightly together that not even the rain could slide between them.

When Serge finally stilled, he stayed inside her, chest heaving, his arms locked around her as though he could shield her from the entire world. He kissed her damp hair, her forehead, her trembling lips, everywhere he could reach—before resting his chin against her shoulder.

But Alice didn’t respond right away. Her arms hung limply around his neck, her body heavy in his hold. The storm raged on, indifferent, but Serge felt the sudden chill of dread creep through his chest.

“Alice?” he whispered, pulling back to search her face.

Her eyes opened slowly, unfocused, glassy, her lashes heavy with both rain and tears. She managed a weak smile, her lips parting as if to say something—but no sound came out.

Serge’s heart dropped. He cupped her face in his hands, shaking his head furiously. “No. Don’t you dare. Don’t you fucking dare leave me.”

Her smile widened faintly, her thumb brushing weakly against his jaw before falling away.

“Serge,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You made me feel alive.”

He stepped forward, reaching for her, but she took a single step back, her hand brushing her waistband. He didn’t notice the gun at first—he only noticed the tears spilling down her cheeks, mixing with the raindrops.

And then she raised it.

“No—Alice, don’t.” His voice cracked, rough with panic. He surged forward, but she shook her head quickly, almost fiercely.

“If I don’t do this, they’ll take us both,” she said, her voice breaking. “I’d rather it end with me. Not you.”

“Stop! We can run—”

But she only smiled through her tears, a soft, broken smile. “Promise me… when it rains again, you’ll think of me.”

The shot tore through the air before he could reach her. The world seemed to stop as Alice collapsed, her body crumpling against the wet pavement, the gun slipping from her fingers.

Serge caught her, falling to his knees with her weight in his arms. Blood seeped through his clothes, warm against the cold rain. His cries broke the silence of the street as he clutched her, rocking her lifeless body, refusing to let go.

Her lips were still curved faintly, as if she’d found peace in her final act. Serge pressed his forehead against hers, his tears mixing with the rain, whispering her name again and again until the sound was hoarse.

The cemetery was quiet, the world muted under a gray sky. Rain drizzled steadily, dampening Serge’s coat, plastering his hair to his forehead. He stood in front of her grave, the headstone simple, her name carved in cold stone that didn’t do justice to the warmth she once carried.

For a long time, he just stood there, his fists clenched at his sides, the rain soaking him through. Finally, he sank to his knees, placing a hand against the stone as though he could reach her through it.

The memory of her laugh, her voice, her touch—they all came rushing back with the patter of raindrops around him. The last thing she asked echoed in his head.

His lips parted, and his voice was a broken whisper. “We always meet on a rainy day.”

The rain fell harder, washing his tears from his face. And there he stayed, kneeling in the storm, letting the rain swallow him whole, just as it always had when she was alive.