The undercity was quiet in the way only deep concrete could manage, sound dampened, light swallowed, air thick with the faint metallic chill of recycled ventilation. Red’s unit was dim, the amber lamps low enough that the corners of the room dissolved into soft shadow. The LED on the armor cradle blinked in its slow, steady rhythm, like a muted heartbeat.
Zoey knocked once, a short, soft thud with her knuckles, just enough for Red to hear, not enough to startle. Red opened the door almost immediately, like she’d been standing just behind it.
She looked… calmer than usual. Her spotted fur was brushed smooth, her ears relaxed, eyes a muted brown instead of the volatile amber or hazel she wore in public. Her tail hung low, not anxious, just resting. The sweatshirt she wore hung loose on her frame, sleeves pushed up to her forearms, bandaged wrists still healing cleanly.
Zoey stepped inside, ducking slightly under the low lintel. The room felt warmer with her in it; her broad frame and dense musculature tended to do that. She pulled the door shut behind her, horns brushing the air as she moved, tail curling once before settling behind her.
Neither spoke at first.
Red watched her with the kind of focus she usually reserved for hostile environments, quiet, sharp, attentive. Zoey set her jacket on the back of the nearest crate-turned-chair and straightened. The soft red glow from the lamps caught along the carbon-fiber plating of her prosthetic arms, throwing faint highlights across the claws built into her fingertips.
“You good?” Zoey asked, voice low.
Red nodded once. “Yeah.”
It wasn’t a habitual lie. It wasn’t deflection. Just honest. A rarity for both of them.
Zoey stepped a little farther into the room. Red followed her movement with her eyes, head tilting slightly, not calculating, not assessing threat, but something more animal, more subconscious. She stayed close to the wall but didn’t brace against it.
Zoey noticed the difference immediately. Red’s breathing was slow. Shoulders loose. No twitch in her hands. No silent inventorying of exits.
“You seem… better,” Zoey said quietly.
Red’s ears flicked once. “I guess I am.”
A soft, almost shy huff left her. She looked away for half a second, then back. And then she took a deliberate step forward, closing the gap between them in a way she never had before.
Zoey didn’t move. Didn’t reach. Didn’t react beyond a small shift of weight to accommodate Red’s proximity.
For a moment, there was nothing but the soft hum of the ventilation and the quiet rhythm of both their breaths.
Red lifted her hand, slowly, deliberately. Her spotted fingers brushed Zoey’s wrist, just the edge of warm fur meeting cool synthetic plating. A light touch, barely there, but a touch all the same.
Zoey held perfectly still. Her eyes half-lidded, golden in the dim light, watching Red and not pushing her.
Red’s voice dropped to a whisper. “You can stay a while?”
Zoey let a small, warm exhale slip out. “Yeah. I can stay.”
Red didn’t smile, she rarely did, not fully, but her shoulders eased, and her thumb traced a small motion along the ridge between fur and carbon fiber on Zoey’s arm.
Red didn’t pull her hand away. If anything, she drew a fraction closer, just enough for Zoey to feel the warmth of her breath against the front of her suit. Her fingers tightened lightly around Zoey’s wrist, testing, not gripping. Zoey adjusted her stance, lowering her shoulders slightly in a silent yes.
Red’s eyes lifted to meet hers. Brown, soft, searching. She wasn’t masking anything tonight, no sharp amber, no defensive gray, no brittle green. Just the quiet, unguarded brown she only ever showed in moments like this.
Zoey kept still, letting Red take the lead.
Red’s other hand came up, sliding over the front panel of Zoey’s exploration suit, fingertips brushing over the reinforced seams. She knew every line of this suit by now, knew which panels were flexible, which ones folded when Zoey breathed. Her touch wasn’t hesitant. It was deliberate. Purposeful.
She stepped closer. Close enough that the tips of her claws grazed the base of Zoey’s throat where the suit opened into a wide V.
Red wasn’t trembling. She wasn’t folding in on herself. She was steady.
She leaned in, her forehead brushing Zoey’s chest, inhaling deeply, taking in Zoey’s scent, heavy with warm fur, metal, and the faint bite of toxic drugs.
Zoey lowered her head, bringing her mouth near Red’s ear. “Red…”
“Don’t talk,” Red murmured.
Red’s hands slid upward, both of them now resting over Zoey’s chest. She tipped her chin up, eyes locking on Zoey’s. “I want to.”
She didn’t specify what. She didn’t need to.
Zoey’s heart thudded once, hard, under Red’s palms.
Red rose onto her toes, closing the last inch between them, and kissed her. It was soft. Slow. Careful.
Zoey answered in kind, just the faintest pressure, just enough to match Red’s pace. Her hands didn’t move, didn’t clutch or pull. She let Red control everything.
Red’s lips parted slightly, her breath warm and unsteady, and Zoey met her halfway. Red’s tail lifted faintly behind her, curling once in instinctive motion before settling again.
Zoey dipped her head lower, deepening the kiss by a degree, nothing more. Red responded with a low sound in her throat, something halfway between a sigh and a hum, her fingers sliding up to the base of Zoey’s jaw.
They kissed again, slower this time, lips brushing in feather-light passes like they were learning each other’s rhythm.
Red pulled back, just an inch, her breath warm against Zoey’s mouth. “Bed,” she whispered.
Zoey nodded once, heat flooding her chest.
Red took her hand and led her across the room toward the cot without looking back. Their claws and prosthetic fingers intertwined awkwardly but intentionally, neither adjusting grip, both accepting the imperfect fit.
The cot creaked as Red sat down on the edge, pulling Zoey closer by the hand. Zoey stood over her, towering, but softened her posture to not loom. Red looked up at her with something raw and wanting in her eyes.
“Come here,” Red said quietly.
Zoey finally let herself touch Red, just a hand on her waist, fingers resting lightly against the warm, soft fur under her sweatshirt.
Red leaned into it immediately, exhaling hard through her nose, the first real crack in her composure.
Then she tugged Zoey down.
The kiss that followed was deeper. Needier. Red’s claws slid into Zoey’s long black hair, pulling her in while Zoey kept her touch unbearably gentle, as if Red were something fragile despite her strength.
Red broke the kiss only long enough to whisper, breathless against her mouth:
“I want you to take this off.”
Her fingers tugged at Zoey’s suit collar.
Zoey’s muscles tightened under her fur, heat coiling through her as she met Red’s gaze.
“Okay,” Zoey breathed.
Zoey dipped her head so Red could reach her without stretching. Red slid her hands along the front seam of the suit, claws tracing the reinforced V-shaped opening. At her full height, Zoey had to kneel to be level with Red sitting on the cot, but it didn’t feel awkward, just natural, practiced, the way they’d learned to move around each other.
Red hooked her fingers under the collar and pulled.
The upper section of Zoey’s suit peeled open with a low hiss from the pressure seals. Warm fur spilled out where the plating parted, deep red, dense and soft over the heavy muscle underneath. Red pushed the opening wider, slow enough that Zoey could stop her at any point.
Zoey didn’t.
Red slid the suit down past her shoulders, revealing more of her fur and the broad lines of her torso. Her prosthetic arms shifted with the motion, carbon plating catching the light. Red’s eyes flicked over the transition from fur to synthetic metal, and she ran her thumb along the seam where the prosthetic met living muscle.
Zoey inhaled sharply through her nose, as if to say, "Don't."
Red didn’t say anything. She just tugged again, pulling the suit down to Zoey’s waist. Zoey used her claws to free the lower fastenings, letting the heavy material drop to the floor.
Now Zoey stood over her, towering, warm, fully bare except for her prosthetics. The glow from the room cut along the curve of her hips, the hard shape of her thighs. She wasn’t posing. She wasn’t trying to be anything. She was just there.
Red’s breath hitched once, quietly.
Zoey stepped closer, lowering herself until her left knee touched the floor beside the cot. It brought her down to Red’s height without making Red crane her neck. Zoey placed a hand on Red’s thigh, just resting there, not pushing.
“Your turn?” Zoey asked, voice low.
Red swallowed, nodded once, and lifted her arms so Zoey could pull her sweatshirt up and off. Zoey did it slowly, carefully navigating the lines of Red’s furred ears. The fabric slid away, revealing the mottled cream and dark spots across Red’s shoulders and chest.
Red’s breathing changed, not panicked, just deeper, heavier.
Zoey brushed her knuckles along Red’s ribs in a silent question.
Red exhaled. “Keep going.”
Zoey unfastened Red’s pants next, tugging them down over her hips. Red lifted herself just enough for Zoey to pull them free, leaving her fully naked in the low amber light.
Red didn’t hide. She didn’t curl inward. She let Zoey look.
Zoey didn’t stare or flinch. She took her in with the kind of attention that felt like listening, seeing her body, all of it, without judgment or hesitation. She reached out and placed a warm, steady hand on Red’s side, just above the hip.
“Red,” she murmured, “are you sure you want this?”
Red’s pulse jumped under Zoey’s hand. Her ears flicked back. For a moment her breath stuttered, uncertainty pressing in from the edges.
Her eyes shifted color, brown to hazel, a flash of green, then brown again. Her hands trembled. The earlier confidence cracked as something old and sharp clawed its way up through her nerves.
Zoey’s voice softened immediately. “Hey. Red. Look at me.”
Red did, but only barely. Her breathing was too fast now, shoulders tight, body pulled thin like she was bracing for something she couldn’t name.
“I, ” Red started, then stopped. Her claws flexed. “I don’t know. I thought I did, but now, ”
Her voice caught completely.
Zoey moved closer, still kneeling so Red didn’t feel crowded by her height. She brought one cold, metal hand up to Red’s cheek and held it there gently, letting Red lean into it or push away if she needed to.
“Okay,” Zoey said quietly. “Then we stop.”
Red shook her head once, a sharp, anxious flick. “No, I just, dammit, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Zoey slid onto the cot beside her instead of in front of her, easing Red into her arms without force. Red went stiff at first, breath still rapid, her muscles coiled with leftover fear.
But Zoey held her, steady, warm, quiet.
“Nothing’s wrong with you,” Zoey murmured into her hair. “You got scared. That’s all.”
Red’s breathing didn’t even out right away, but it didn’t get worse.
Zoey kept one arm around her waist and one hand on her back, rubbing slow, grounding circles through her fur.
Red’s voice was small when it finally came out against Zoey’s chest.
“I still want to. I just… need a minute.”
Zoey nodded, brushing her cheek along the top of Red’s head. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Red closed her eyes, leaning fully into her for the first time.
The panic ebbed. Little by little. Breath by breath.
When Red lifted her head again, still naked, still trembling slightly, her voice was clearer.
“I want to keep going. Just… slower. Really slow.”
Zoey nodded, kissed her forehead, and eased her gently back against the pillows, her movements unhurried.
“Then slow is what we’ll do.”
Zoey stayed where she was, half-propped against the cot’s frame, giving Red room to move however she needed. Red shifted closer, one knee brushing the outside of Zoey’s thigh. They were still pressed together in silence, not tense, not charged, just breathing the same slow air again.
She touched Zoey’s shoulder, running her fingers along the heavy curve of furred muscle until they hit the sharp transition into synthetic plating. Her thumb traced the seam, feeling how the metal flexed subtly beneath her touch. Zoey didn’t guide her or move into her hand, she stayed still, letting Red take the lead exactly the way she’d asked.
Red’s gaze swept downward. Now that her panic had ebbed, she actually looked at Zoey, and visibly recalibrated. Zoey sat relaxed, not posturing, but her body was enormous. Broad chest and thick, powerful arms made her look like she could fold the entire cot in half without trying. Her hips were wide, thighs thick with muscle beneath the dense red fur. Even sitting hunched slightly so Red wouldn’t have to reach up, Zoey still took up space like she was carved for it.
Red exhaled very quietly. “You’re… big.”
Zoey huffed a small, warm sound through her nose. Not smug, not teasing, just acknowledging. “Yeah.”
Red’s hand drifted lower, sliding over the line of Zoey’s ribs. The off-white fur there was softer, dense enough that her fingers sank a little with each pass. She moved slowly, almost studying her, mapping out the size, the texture, the way each breath expanded Zoey’s torso under her palm. Zoey shivered once when Red’s claws brushed the side of her chest, but she didn’t interrupt.
Red leaned in to kiss her again.
Zoey answered gently, keeping her serpentine tongue carefully under control, barely letting it slip past her teeth so it wouldn’t overwhelm Red. Red’s claws curled lightly in Zoey’s hair when she felt the forked tip brush her lower lip. A small, surprised sound escaped her throat, not startled, just noticing.
She pressed closer, climbing partially into Zoey’s lap without much thought. Zoey shifted to support her, bracing one prosthetic hand on the cot and wrapping the other carefully around Red’s waist. The metal plating was cool but steady against Red’s fur. Red settled astride one of Zoey’s thighs, her body dwarfed against Zoey’s frame but not swallowed by it. Just held.
Red’s hands roamed, tracing along Zoey’s sides, over the thick fur of her abdomen, up to the strong curve of her neck and what was left of her shoulder. She paused at Zoey’s horns, fingers brushing the ivory curls as if verifying they were real. Zoey leaned into the touch with a low, barely audible growl of approval.
Red explored like she was trying to understand how someone so massive could move so quietly. Her palms flattened against Zoey’s hips, sliding along the thick muscle there, then traveled back up to the middle of her chest. She took in every ridge, every shift under Zoey’s breath.
Zoey didn’t rush her. Didn’t ask for anything back.
She ran her snout lightly along the side of Red’s jaw, just a brush, a silent I’m here. Her tail slid around Red’s legs, warm and heavy, curling loosely in a protective arc without actually holding her in place.
Red’s breathing deepened as she explored, but there was no spike of panic this time. Just warmth. Curiosity. A low, simmering desire softened by safety. She leaned into Zoey’s chest with a small sigh, resting her forehead above the curve of Zoey’s collarbone.
Zoey kissed the top of her head, slow, careful, her lips warm against her hair.
Red moved again, but slower now, tracing her fingers across Zoey’s chest, her ribs, her stomach. Her movements gradually lost their deliberate rhythm. Every pass of her hand became lazier, softer, drifting.
Zoey could feel the shift happening. Red wasn’t stopping, she was winding down. Her breathing had gone deep and steady, her body melting into Zoey’s warmth instead of holding tension. The desire was still there, faint under the surface, but muted by exhaustion and comfort.
Zoey stroked her back, long, steady passes of her hard metal palm from shoulder to hip, matching Red’s breaths. She didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. Red’s fingers slowed more with each rise and fall of Zoey’s chest until they finally stilled, resting flat against her side.
Red’s head dipped, leaning fully into Zoey’s shoulder. Her tail draped over Zoey’s thigh, relaxed and heavy. Her eyes slid half-shut, lashes lowering over the brown that had softened completely.
Zoey shifted her weight and eased them both down onto the cot. Red followed without resistance, clinging lightly as Zoey lay back. Red curled into her immediately, head tucked under Zoey’s jaw, one leg thrown over her hip, hand splayed across Zoey’s ribs.
Zoey pulled the blanket up around them and wrapped her arms around Red’s small, warm frame. Her tail curled near Red’s knees; Red’s tail draped over her thigh.
Red breathed one last, quiet sentence against Zoey’s chest, barely audible:
“…stay like this…”
Zoey tightened her arms around her. “I will.”
The room dimmed into soft stillness, their bodies fitting together in a way that needed no more movement, no more escalation, no more heat. Just warmth.
Red’s breathing slowed, evened out.
Zoey listened to it until she drifted off beside her.
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