Title: "Strictly Physical"
Category: Soul Calibur
Rating: NC-17 for fairly-explicit sexual situations
Genre: General/Romance
Words: 394
Pairing(s): Raphael/Cassandra
Summary: It's just sex, no love lost between them.

A/N: Found this one in my travel notebook; apparently written in-flight to Denver. Super-smutty. I can't believe I actually wrote this one on a plane. I'm getting far too fearless about smutfics these days. Sigh.




It’s just sex.


That’s how she views it, really, when all’s said and done, when he’s lying heavily on top of her, short of breath, his bared skin warm and soft against her own, his seed beginning to seep from between her thighs. And it’s good—he’s good, to be honest, angling passionate thrusts so he brushes against her innermost walls just so, teasing her nipples with teeth and tongue, rubbing dexterous fingers over her sensitive nub until she arches into his touch and nearly screams his name…


It’s good sex, magnificently so, but it’s just sex, nonetheless.


“Leaving so soon?” he asks when she gingerly moves out from under him, and he catches her wrist.


“I’m just…” she mumbles, “…just going to clean up…”


But then his lips are pressed warmly against hers, and he tugs her back onto the bed, lifts her until she’s straddling him, curves one hand around her hip and lets her ride him until she comes, harsh and sudden, his name on her lips.



It’s just sex. No one ever said they had to like each other. And they don’t, not really; when it’s over, finally, when she’s limp and boneless, completely spent, and he redresses, barely spares her a glance as he takes his leave, she tells herself it doesn’t matter. Just sex, never lovemaking—there’s no love lost between them. Soon they’ll go their separate ways again, until she aches and he aches and they once more find themselves entwined in the shadows, sating a common need until dawn breaks and they once more part, he into darkness, she into familiar light.


Very simple, really. They enjoy each other on the basest of levels. He’s insatiable and she’s wild, arching her hips up to meet his, flesh to flesh, her nails scrabbling against his back, his fingers gripping her hips as purple-black bruises blossom upon her skin. Pain and pleasure, always intertwined, but that’s how they are, really, and it suits them.


Just sex. Purely physical. No emotions, no attachment. They never had to like each other, and they don’t, not at all.


But it’s the little things, minute changes, careful looks and unspoken words, as each time the caress grows a bit more lingering, the kiss a bit sweeter, and they hate each other but somehow, it’s getting harder to say goodbye.