Like most of Atlas or those who were still in the barracks that had once been part of "Echo Five Actual", I roomed alone or at least with someone who had been part of all of it. I was alone, my last room mate having killed himself when he found out his girlfriend back home had been cheating on him.
I don't know what he expected.
My room was at least warm and dry, with something that Atlas lacked, something I had nearly forgotten about.
Privacy.
It hit the switch, turning on the light of the main room, and shambled into the room. I'd left the heater on, the radiator putting out a gentle heat even while I was gone. I had a few posters on the wall, and to be honest, I was surprised nobody had robbed my room.
I dropped the two dufflebags I was carrying, then shouldered out of my ruck, LBE and Kevlar, then stood in the room for a long moment, just feeling all that weight off of me. For the last several months I had at least worn body armor and usually had either a PRC-77 or my ruck on my back. My rifle and pistol at least had been turned into the armory, so that was one less thing I had to worry about.
The last few months had been exhausting to say the least.
Atlas had exploded and tried to take all of us with her. Then Chernobyl. Then everything else.
I just stood in the main part of my room, breathing slowly. I could feel Atlas slowly pouring off me. I slowly stripped off my uniform until I was standing naked except for my socks in the middle of the room.
My dogtags jingled as I moved into the bathroom, reaching in and turning on the hot water. I stared at my face for a long moment.
Stress had aged me beyond my eighteen years. I had gray hair at my temples, lines in my face, and the scarring around my left eye. Scars on my chest too. I didn't remember consciously decided to grow a mustache, but apparently I had. It was more so that I didn't have to bother cold-shaving my upper lip and slicing it off. I mean, yeah, Bomber didn't mind cold water when he shaved, and that psycho Stillwater dry shaved, but that doesn't mean I had to like it.
Huh, I'd grown more chest hair out at Atlas. I hadn't noticed. It looked weird.
Ya know, I hadn't really looked at myself since I'd left Kansas.
The man staring at me was one I hardly recognized. I'd put on more muscle but somehow looked leaner. The scars around my eye from where they'd put in that plate to replace my lower eye socket.
I sighed, adjusted the water, and shaved.
I decided to keep the mustache.
The water was hot, and the water pressure felt good against my muscles. Goddamn I was sore. It had been months since the blast but my ribs and shoulders still ached on days like today. Stokes' morning close quarters combat drills didn't help. The big Amazon had man-handled me pretty hard, dropped me pretty good into the sand-pit we used.
My reaction to washing off in the warm water surprised me. I mean, I hadn't really thought about it, hadn't really had that kind of reaction to anything since I'd left Kansas. Cromwell had asked me about it when she'd done our comprehensive medical checks, but she'd assured me that high amounts of physical and emotional stress could have that reaction.
Maybe it was because I was starting to relax that I had the first non-morning erection I could remember.
I kind of stood there and stared at it. The water hitting my chest and head while I looked down at it. To be honest, it looked kind of weird. I mean, it looked... different somehow. Maybe because I was older? I mean, would there be that much difference between now and a year and a half ago?
My lips tingled and I paused, about to wash my face. I closed my eyes, relishing the tingling feeling.
Aine had kissed me beside the truck. Twining her petite little body around mine, putting her hand on the back of my neck, and pulling my head down to kiss me. It was the first kiss anyone had given me since... since... wow, had it really been that long? Since Kansas?
My body remembered Aine pressed against me and my erection twitched and throbbed almost painfully. I thought about it for a second. I mean, why waste it, right?
Besides, it had been years since I had done that. Gail hadn't allowed me to masturbate once we started dating at 13. She'd considered it a personal insult, a rejection of her, claimed it demeaned her by stating that I didn't need her or that she wasn't enough for me.
Yeah, while she went behind my back and fucked my best friend.
I hadn't jerked off since I was like 12.
Screw it, I thought, reaching down.
"Paul Foster?" Aine's soft voice.
I jerked my hand away like I'd been caught by my mother or worse.
"In here," I called out.
I heard the door shut. The lock rattling was loud as she threw the bolt. The bathroom door squeaked when she came in. The damn thing had squeaked since they rehung it after they'd destroyed the barracks last winter.
"Can I be in here?" Her voice was timid.
"Yeah, Aine," I said.
Goddamn, just her voice made my dick hurt.
"We kissed, Paul Foster," She said. Was that a tremble? She sounded odd.
"Yeah, we did, Aine," I said.
Why was my voice trembling?
"Can you still feel my lips?" I could smell apple blossoms.
"Yes," I told her honestly.
"Can you still feel my body against yours?"
"God, yes," I was honest.
"Can I come in?" She asked again.
"In the shower?" Jesus, what a dumb question. "Now?"
"Yes, Paul Foster,' she said, resting her hand against the white plastic curtain. "We have talked these long months, you've seen me when you bathed me in blood, you fed me raw meat from your own fingers. May I join you?"
"Yes," my throat went dry despite all the steam. I swallowed thickly.
The curtain shifted slightly as she slid into the shower with me.
Alabaster skin, a splash of freckles across her nose and cheeks. Grass green eyes that looked slightly too large for her small heart shaped face, slightly tilted, with long lashes. A little pert button nose, high cheekbones, and full lips in a Cupid's bow. Small breasts capped with soft pink, her body wiry muscle. Yeah, some of the muscle groups looked a little different than I'd seen on the other women at Atlas, but she was Aine, and she was different. She had fine hair on her legs, in her armpits, and thickly between her legs. She saw me looking at her and slowly turned around, a smile on her face. Her long fire red curly hair went down past her firm little bottom, down to mid-thigh on her slender legs.
"You like looking at me, don't you, Paul Foster," She teased, looking over her shoulder at me and batting her eyelashes. She glanced down, and her smile widened, took a wicked turn. She flexed slightly, bouncing up and down on her toes, making her butt bounce. "I like you looking at me. I like your appreciation of me."
She slowly turned around, and I shifted, letting the water spray on her.
The smell of apple blossoms increased, along with a wild feral smell that made my head swim and my groin ache painfully.
She teased me, running her hands over her body, touching herself, smiling at me. Leaning forward to kiss me now and then. Kiss my chest, bite at me with those strong sharp little teeth of hers. She started touching me with one hand, the other hand touching herself.
Her touch was like warm oil. It spread out from her hand, somehow, and I could feel it inside, feel it seem to touch that empty spot inside of me that I'd always had.
Together we sunk down till we were sitting together on the bottom of the shower, where there was a little four inch rim to hold a little water. She sat on my lap, kissing me slowly, her hands rubbing my back.
"I have enjoyed our talks, Paul Foster," she said softly, looking up at me. "Enjoyed our words in the darkness to one another."
"So have I," I told her honestly. "This wasn't what I had expected, Aine."
She smiled at that. "I can see your heart, Paul Foster, know that you are willing to place it in my hand if I but ask," She lifted up slightly, "You didn't ask for anything but my camaraderie, my friendship, but are you willing to give me this? Share this with me as I'm willing to share with you?"
Her small hot hand wrapped around my erection.
"Share this with me?" Her eyes were full of yearning and a plea that I understood. I nodded, my mouth dry. Her other hand took mine and guided it between her legs. "Share this with you?" It was warm, soft, the hair wet but soft and fine. I nodded again.
"I don't have a condom," I told her. Her hand was moving gently up and down, making me shiver.
She laughed at that. Not a mocking laugh, but one of pure joy. "Oh, Paul Foster, I have no need of such things."
"We don't have to..." I started to say.
She lowered down slowly and gasped, smiled, and wiggled, making me groan, until once again she was sitting on my lap. We moved slowly. Well, she did. She did most of the movement, I just kept my hands on her hips and tried not to ruin it.
It had been a long time, and I didn't last long at all.
"Gonna..." I managed to get out, trying to lift her up.
She wrapped her legs tightly around me, squeezing me, her hands going to her belly. "Fill my belly, Paul Foster," she moaned. "Give it to me freely. Fill my womb."
That was all it took.
I half expected her to comment, make some sort of cutting joke at my expense at how little time had gone by. Gail had always done so, and I'd heard the female members of the crew speak disparagingly about men who didn't last very long.
Instead she cupped my face in her hands, kissing me, moving gently against me as she sighed. I tried to apologize but she kissed me passionately, holding tight. When the kiss broke she leaned back, staring me in the eyes.
"Thank you, Paul Foster," she said softly, cupping my cheek with one hand and rubbing the back of my head. She sighed and shivered. "We needed one another to slake the urgency," she flushed slightly, "While everyone else slept in the back of the Gypsy Wagon during our return to this dark place, I couldn't resist pleasing myself by squeezing my thighs together and thinking of your body against mine and our kisses we've shared."
That made me blush and she shivered against me.
"Let's go to bed, cover ourselves with blankets, and warm one another," she said. She got up slowly then helped me to my feet. "Soon the need will fill us once again."
She held my hand as we walked to my bed, reaching out with one hand to turn off the light, leaving only the nightlight for illumination. I wasn't surprised to see a quilt on top of it, that the wool blanket was folded and put on the top bunk of the bunk beds. She drew back the comforter, revealing another blanket and then sheets that definitely weren't military issue sheets. The pillows were hand stitched too, and soft when I laid my head on them. She slid in next to me, intertwining her legs with mine, and drew the covers over us.
She kissed me softly in the dark.
"Will you love me, Paul Foster?" She asked.
I knew what she meant. It wasn't love. Not yet. But it felt like there was something inside of me. Something that I hadn't felt before. Something that ached to see her, warmed at her touch, shivered at the sound of her voice.
Something I'd never felt before.
"It'll grow," I told her honestly.
Her hand wrapped around me down there. "It is already, Paul Foster," she giggled.
But she knew what I meant.
Just like I knew what she was.
She was what her bloodline had made her.
I was what the world had made me.
And in her arms, there was nothing wrong with either of us.