Interlude One

After the Thunder

Pairing: Naomi × Reina

Setting: Rooftop Garden, Bloomfield Shelter

Mood: Rain-slicked dominance, queer longing, emotional healing

Tone: Tender. Assertive. Electrified.

---

The thunder had already passed, but the sky still wept.

Naomi stood barefoot on the gravel-slicked rooftop garden, her linen shirt clinging to her body like regret. The rain had softened to a drizzle, but her heart still roared from the inside—flashes of memory and fire threading through her like static.

She barely heard Reina behind her until she felt the hand.

Gentle. Warm. Cautious.

“Is this okay?” Reina asked.

Naomi didn’t answer with words. She turned and pressed her lips to Reina’s.

It started softly. Like a question.

But Reina didn’t hesitate. She pulled Naomi in with a groan caught at the back of her throat, hands sliding down her spine like gravity itself had chosen this moment to act.

“You taste like rain,” Reina whispered against her lips.

Naomi laughed. “You taste like a lie I wanted to believe.”

Their mouths met again—fiercer this time.

Naomi shoved Reina backward against the ivy-covered column at the corner of the terrace. The vines rustled as her body pinned Reina’s, their hips crashing together in a rhythm older than logic.

Naomi’s fingers moved fast—unbuttoning Reina’s soaked blouse, pushing it open with wet, greedy palms.

“Still think I need saving?” Naomi said, biting down on Reina’s shoulder hard enough to leave heat in her wake.

Reina hissed through her teeth. “Not anymore. Right now, I want to be ruined.”

Naomi dropped to her knees.

Rain pooled in the creases of Reina’s trousers as Naomi yanked them down, baring her thighs to the cold air. Reina braced against the column, panting.

Naomi looked up at her, lips parted, dark eyes gleaming.

“This what you wanted in that test run?”

Reina's voice cracked. “Gods, yes.”

Naomi leaned in. Her mouth was hot, her tongue slow. She didn’t rush. She didn’t tease. She devoured.

Reina cried out into the storm, one hand knotted in Naomi’s rain-wet curls. Her legs trembled. Naomi held her firm—anchoring her, claiming her, reminding her who she’d always belonged to.

“Don’t you dare stop—” Reina gasped.

Naomi didn’t.

Reina came with her back arched, hips grinding into Naomi’s mouth like she was chasing the edge of the world.

---

Later, they lay tangled on a rain-soaked blanket, Naomi’s head on Reina’s chest.

Reina stroked her hair, whispering between kisses on her forehead.

“I would’ve waited forever for this.”

Naomi looked up. “You didn’t have to. I remember everything now. Every look. Every almost.”

Reina smiled, then turned her face toward the fading storm.

“So what now?” she asked.

Naomi leaned in and kissed her again, soft and slow, like a vow being rewritten.

“Now?” Naomi murmured. “Now we stop being almost.”

Interlude Two: Beneath the Cages

Pairing: Vayden × Jayce

Setting: Hidden Data Vault beneath the Old Archive

Mood: Power-play, emotional tension, bisexual confession

Tone: Gritty. Intimate. Dominant with restraint.

---

The hum of failing servers echoed through the underground vault, fluorescent lights flickering like ghosts with dying breath.

Jayce stood at the far end of the room, arms crossed, jaw tense, watching Vayden work at the console like he still owned the world.

“You always vanish,” Jayce said flatly. “You break something, build something else, then disappear before it breathes.”

Vayden didn’t look up.

“I don’t vanish,” he said, his voice like gravel soaked in ice. “I remove myself when I become a threat.”

Jayce took a slow step forward. Then another.

“Naomi trusted you.”

“She still does,” Vayden said softly.

“And you… What did you do with that trust?” Jayce’s voice cracked. “You put her on fire.”

“I built her from it.”

That did it.

Jayce reached Vayden in two strides, grabbing him by the collar and slamming him into the metal cabinet behind him. The clang echoed through the dark.

Vayden didn’t resist. His lips curled into the faintest smirk.

“There it is,” he whispered. “The heat.”

Jayce’s hand trembled where it fisted Vayden’s shirt.

“You think I hate you.”

“I know you do.”

Jayce’s lips crushed into his.

---

It wasn’t love. Not yet. It was years of restraint collapsing.

Jayce kissed him with teeth and tongue and unforgiven memories. Vayden responded in kind—hands yanking Jayce closer, fingers trailing down his spine, nails scraping hard over the curve of his back.

Their hips met. Hard.

Jayce grunted. “This isn’t about her.”

Vayden grabbed his jaw. “No. This is about us.”

Jayce shoved him down onto the long workbench. Their bodies tangled in heat, friction, barely restrained violence. Vayden pulled Jayce’s shirt off with one hand, the other already working his belt loose.

Jayce straddled him, grinding down until Vayden groaned and arched.

“You always wanted control,” Vayden growled.

Jayce leaned in, biting the edge of his ear. “Not this time.”

---

Skin met skin.

Jayce entered him slowly, breath ragged. Vayden gasped—raw, breathless—but never asked him to stop. Their eyes locked the entire time, nothing hidden, nothing left unsaid.

They moved together like magnets forced into place. Like war turned into rhythm. Jayce held Vayden down, thrusting deep, biting his neck, whispering things no one else had ever heard.

“You don’t get to disappear this time.”

“I won’t.”

When Vayden climaxed, it wasn’t with a cry—but a broken whisper of Jayce’s name.

Jayce came seconds later, burying his face in Vayden’s shoulder, shaking.

---

After, they lay in silence, backs slick with sweat, hearts racing under cold air and server static.

Vayden turned to him, voice hoarse.

“You still hate me?”

Jayce stared at the ceiling.

“No,” he said. “I just wanted to.”

A pause.

“And now?”

Jayce pulled the blanket over them both.

“Now I want you to stay.”