Chapter Text
It was Friday evening.
Heavy rain poured outside, its steady patter against the large windows of the Forger apartment filling the room with a comforting calm.
Damian and Anya were sitting together on the sofa, watching a film while cuddled beneath a blanket.
They were alone. Loid and Yor were away for the weekend.
Over the past year, the Forger apartment had become a place of comfort for Damian. Compared to his family’s mansion, their other homes, and the endless luxury residences owned by the Desmonds, the apartment was tiny.
And yet it possessed something money could never buy:
Love. Real, unconditional love.
It didn’t matter what grades Damian achieved, how many hours he had studied or what he had accomplished that week. The Forgers were proud of him simply because he was Damian.
Anya was the perfect example of that.
She got good grades nowadays, but during her first years at Eden Academy, her scores had been terrible. Even so, Loid and Yor had always loved and supported her unconditionally.
That had always fascinated Damian.
In his own family, love, or rather approval, had always come with conditions. Good grades, awards or his status as an Imperial Scholar.
Even when he achieved all of those things, it never felt special only expected. Especially when his older brother, Demetrius, had already accomplished everything before him.
And it wasn’t only his parents affection that came with conditions. Most people admired him because of his surname.
Because he was a Desmond.
But Anya had never cared about that. She had proven it on the very first day they met with a punch straight to the face.
Back then, he thought Anya was loud, strange, and impossible to understand.
Now, years later, she was the person who understood him better than anyone ever had.
Anya shifted slightly against him, resting her head beneath his chin as the rain drummed softly against the windows. Damian’s fingers traced absent-minded circles along her arm beneath the blanket.
He looked down at her for a moment.
Oh, he loved her.
Not because she was perfect or because she expected nothing from him.
But because whenever he was with her, he felt safe, seen and wanted.
His lips brushed gently against the top of her head.
One kiss became another.
Her forehead, her cheek, then finally, her lips.
At first the kiss was soft and familiar, sweet in a way that only long-term love could be. But slowly, the warmth between them deepened.
Anya melted closer against him and Damian’s heartbeat quickened the moment her fingers curled lightly into his shirt.
His hand slid carefully to her waist, pulling her closer onto his lap as the tension between them shifted into something heavier.
“Damian...” she breathed softly against his lips.
Oh, the way she said his name always ruined him.
The kiss deepened, warm and unhurried. Damian’s fingers slipped beneath the hem of her shirt, touching her skin carefully, almost reverently.
Anya shivered beneath his touch and that tiny reaction nearly killed him.
He buried his face against her neck, kissing her slowly while her hands tangled in his hair. Their breathing grew uneven as the atmosphere around them grew with tension.
The film had long since been forgotten. Their kisses became deeper, slower and more desperate.
Damian inhaled sharply when Anya shifted against him, rolling her hips teasingly over his lap. The movement pulled a quiet gasp from him before he could stop it.
Anya immediately smiled against his mouth.
“You’re easy,” she whispered.
Damian looked personally offended.
“I am absolutely not.”
“You literally gasped.”
“That was involuntary.”
Anya laughed softly before kissing him again.
The sound alone made Damian’s head spin.
His hands tightened instinctively against her waist as he kissed her with growing urgency, occasionally catching her lower lip between his teeth. He pressed closer without thinking, completely overwhelmed by her.
Eventually he pulled away just enough to press open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck.
The quiet sounds Anya made against him nearly destroyed his remaining selfcontrol. Every little reaction from her felt unfair.
His breathing grew shallow as she shifted against him again, slower this time, deliberate enough to make his hips jerk involuntarily upward.
A low sound escaped him before he immediately hid his face against her shoulder in embarrassment.
Anya laughed softly again.
“You’re cute.”
“I’m leaving.”
“You live here half the week.”
“That’s not the point.”
Despite his words, Damian didn’t move away.
If anything, he pulled her closer.
Still kissing her, he helped her tug her shirt over her head before pausing for half a second just to look at her.
And that expression alone made Anya’s chest ache. Because Damian always looked at her like she was something precious, something he still couldn’t fully believe belonged to him.
His thumb brushed gently along her side before he kissed her again, softer this time.
The rain outside only made the room feel warmer, closer and more private somehow.
Eventually Damian stumbled with her toward her bedroom, lips barely parting between kisses.
Only a small lamp beside Anya’s bed remained on, casting soft golden light across rumpled sheets and plush pillows.
The second Anya’s fingers began fumbling with his belt, Damian let out a shaky breath.
“You’re doing that on purpose,” he muttered weakly.
“Maybe.”
“That’s evil.”
“You like evil.”
“That is unfortunately true.”
Their laughter dissolved into another kiss.
Clothes disappeared between tangled kisses and quiet touches until Anya was left in only soft underwear while Damian sat breathless at the edge of the bed.
The moment she settled into his lap again, Damian exhaled shakily.
His hands slid instinctively along her bare back before settling at her waist. He was so gone.
Anya rolled her hips again slowly, and Damian immediately dropped his forehead against her shoulder.
Anya looked delighted by his suffering.
His lips found hers again as though kissing her was the only thing keeping him remotely functional.
Eventually Anya pushed him gently onto his back. Damian went willingly. She hovered over him for a second before reaching for the waistband of his boxers.
Damian lifted his hips immediately.
Anya stared at him.
“…You didn’t even wait for me to ask.”
“I’m trying to cooperate.”
The moment her hand wrapped around him, Damian’s eyes shut briefly.
A sharp breath escaped him as his fingers curled tightly into the sheets beneath him.
Everything narrowed down to her.
Her hands, her mouth and the warmth of her skin against his.
When he felt her lips around him, a choked sound escaped his throat before he could stop it.
His entire body tensed.
Anya looked far too pleased with herself.
Damian covered his face with one arm immediately.
“I hate this.”
“No, you don’t.”
“…That’s true.”
The room filled gradually with uneven breathing, quiet laughter between kisses and the steady sound of rain outside.
At some point Damian gently rolled them over, kissing slowly down her neck before hooking his fingers carefully into the waistband of her underwear.
Every movement after that felt slower.
Damian kissed her like he was trying to memorize every reaction she gave him.
That was what always undid Anya most.
Not desperation or lust, but the way Damian touched her like she mattered. Like this mattered.
Damian pressed a soft kiss against the inside of her thigh before finally moving lower.
The moment her breathing hitched beneath him, Damian immediately noticed. His focus sharpened completely. He adjusted instinctively to what made her react strongest, every movement careful and attentive.
When she finally came apart beneath him, Damian softened immediately afterward, kissing her gently while she caught her breath.
“You okay?” he whispered.
Anya blinked up at him weakly.
“That was rude.”
Damian laughed softly against her shoulder.
Then finally, slowly, carefully, he entered her.
The feeling hit both of them at once.
Anya’s breath caught.
Damian’s eyes shut briefly.
No matter how many times they did this, the intimacy of it still overwhelmed him.
He buried his face against her neck almost immediately, breathing her in while his movements stayed slow and gentle at first.
Their moans blended softly together in the dim bedroom.
The rhythm between them deepened, becoming more confident with every passing second.
Damian couldn’t stop kissing her like he physically needed the closeness.
Eventually he rolled onto his back again, pulling her carefully on top of him.
The angle drew matching gasps from both of them.
Anya laughed breathlessly.
“Oh my god.”
Damian looked equally affected.
Anya’s hands settled against his chest as she moved above him, slowly at first before the rhythm between them became rougher and more desperate.
Damian’s grip tightened helplessly against her thighs.
He was losing his mind.
The sounds she made, the feeling of her above him like this, the way she said his name was unraveling him completely.
And when Anya came apart again with a breathless cry of his name, Damian completely lost whatever remained of his selfcontrol.
He wasn’t thinking anymore.
Not about consequences or about caution, only about her.
The overwhelming warmth of her and the unbearable intimacy of this.
His entire body tensed sharply as release crashed through him. A broken sound escaped his throat while his hands tightened instinctively against her hips.
And before he fully realized what had happened
he came inside her.
The realization didn’t hit immediately. For several long seconds neither of them moved. The room remained quiet except for uneven breathing and rain tapping softly against the windows.
Damian’s forehead rested weakly against her shoulder while both of them tried to recover.
Then slowly, very slowly, reality began catching up to them.