When it Rains

Author's notes: I never intended this to be a fic. It was supposed to be gratuitous PWP. Then it somehow turned into a series of gratuitous PWP's connected by plot. So yes, every part of this save 1 contains graphic sex. ^^;;
I both love and hate this, because I very much enjoy writing porn, but at the same time, I think this is my favorite Dark City plotline so far...

Written as part of my FF100 Challenge on LJ. CONTAINS NONCON.

When it Rains

Part 1

I liked it, when they made it rain. It didn't happen very often, for The Strangers hated it, and couldn't go out in it. But it seemed that even though the city's plant life could somehow survive without the sun, it couldn't survive without water, so every week there would be a lovely torrential downpour for a few hours, and for a short time I could do whatever I liked, without fear of them seeing.

Sometimes I went to the bars, listened to the drunks with their problems and pretended I was just a regular psychiatrist. Sometimes I just walked in the rain, enjoying the freshness of it against my skin as it soaked through my clothes. But on that particular night, I went to the bathhouse.

It was a frequent retreat, a sanctuary from them, even when it wasn't raining. My intentions were not as most of the other visitors - to pick up men - and I kept to myself. With my scars, it was very rare that I was approached in any case, and I had to turn them down, of course, though I didn't always want to. They didn't permit me to interact with the subjects, with the other humans. Not like that, not sexually. Said it tainted their data. I liked to tell myself I was used to it, but the truth was, I was so lonely that sometimes it quite literally hurt.

The bath house was almost completely empty when I arrived, with few others braving the downpour to visit. There were a couple of men in the steam room - something that I couldn't use, not with my poor lungs - and one in the pool, a young athletic type that I very prudently avoided admiring as I climbed down the ladder and into the water.

There was a small ledge around one half of the pool and I perched there, taking off my glasses and setting them on a towel behind me, then sinking down into the heated water, letting it warm and soothe my aching body. I let my head sag a little, eyes closed to the light, listening to the soft lap of the water on my skin, the soft splashing sounds from the man on the other side of the pool, and the distant drum of the rain outside. Relaxing, letting my mind drift, letting my worries fade, just a little, just for this short time.

I heard someone else enter the pool, settling somewhere to my left, but didn't look up. What good was it to me, anyway? But a short time later I heard someone leaving, heard wet footsteps on the tile, then felt ripples of water brush against my skin, and a soft, low voice, so close it startled me.

"Quiet in here tonight, isn't it?"

My eyes opened quickly, turning toward the speaker. A man with dark hair lounged beside me, hair in damp curls on his forehead. He was watching me with intense green eyes, a little smile playing about his lips. Far, far too handsome to be interested in me....

"Yes," I answered softly, not quiet able to take my eyes from him, still a little startled by how close he'd gotten to me without me noticing, almost close enough to touch me, and was he perhaps sliding closer? I hoped to god he wouldn't come closer, certain he could already hear how fast my heart was pounding in my chest. "I think the rain keeps people -- at home."

"That's true." He leaned back against the pool side, looking away and out over the water. "I don't mind the rain. It's nice to soak in a hot bath after being out in it."

I gave a little nod, feeling more than a little out of my element, sitting next to him and talking like any normal person would do, and wanting him far more than any normal person should. "It... makes the city seem -- fresh. Clean."

"It does, doesn't it." He did move closer to me then, just a little, without really seeming to, but I felt his bicep touch against mine ever so slightly. "I grew up in Shell Beach," he said, conversationally. "I used to love to sit on my back porch and watch the rain on the ocean. All that turbulence, just from little drops of water." I felt the water move, then the lightest, softest touch on my thigh, his fingers barely brushing the skin. I bit my bottom lip, suddenly finding it a little hard to breathe, agonized between jerking away and encouraging more.

"It sounds very -- beautiful," I murmured softly, trying to pull calm, deep breaths, but not pushing away the touch - now firmer, less hesitant - on my thigh. Stroking very slow circles over my skin, inching upward. I could say no to a verbal proposition, but this....

"It is beautiful," he replied, voice warm and smooth and rich, but of course he had to have a voice like that, being as handsome as he was. He was half watching me out of the corner of his eye, fingers teasing, stroking slowly higher, and before I could stop myself I had pressed a little closer, just slightly, but it was enough to encourage him. The fingers that had been teasing me moved on to more than just teasing, slipping between my thighs to cup a shamefully hard erection, and I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out, drawing a sharp gasp despite myself. He was silent, now, turning into me just a little, fingers stroking, teasing, caressing, and I could see his breath grow a little faster, a little harder, the tip of a pink tongue darting out to wet his lips.

I was faintly shuddering under his touch - god, I couldn't even remember what it was like to be touched by another person, let alone someone as appealing as he. I was gasping a little despite myself, staring at him with more than a little disbelief, lips parting, and he turned to me, eyes falling down to my mouth with undisclosed hunger.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, and I swallowed hard, choking back a moan as his palm pressed a little more firmly against me.

"Yes," I managed to reply, arching up against him despite myself, and before I quite knew what I was doing, whispered, "Please...."

His eyes narrowed, ever so slightly, dark and promising, then drew back, indicating one of the change rooms with a little nod. Then he turned and climbed from the pool without waiting to see if I would follow.

I found my glasses on the side of the pool, curling the arms around my ears, and climbed up the ladder, wrapping a towel around my waist more than a little self consciously, wondering what the hell I was doing. But they couldn't find out, could they? They wouldn't come anywhere near this place in the rain, they couldn't. So perhaps... just for once....

He was waiting in the shadows when I entered the change room, and came forward to catch my hand, tugging me into a stall with him and latching the door. Then he was on me, pushing me hard up against the tiled wall and catching my mouth hungrily, tugging aside my towel to press against me, his shorts still dripping from the pool. I couldn't help but arch back, letting his thigh press between mine and rocking up against him with the softest whimper into his mouth, tangling my fingers in his dark curls. He gave a soft, appreciative moan in return, sucking at my bottom lip, kissing me deeper, almost feverishly as my lips parted to encourage access, his mouth warm and tasting a little of mint. I'd had a brief moment of worry that I'd fall all over myself, but caught in the moment, I found that my body responded almost unconsciously to his lead, arching and writhing with him, tasting him back, hands stroking hungrily over the drops of water that still clung to his bare back. His hands caught my hips, pulling me closer to him and slipping back to almost knead at my ass through my sodden swim trunks, arching against me, and god, he was so hard, blissfully hard because of me, grinding against my thigh.

He tugged my head back a little more, trailing hot, hungry kisses over my wet skin, voice a whimper near my ear. "Can I make love to you?"

"Yes," I gasped, choking back a cry as his fingers worked their way down the front of my shorts to tease me. "Oh god, please...." He could have done most anything he wanted to me, in that moment, and I would have agreed just to feel the warmth of his skin, just to keep kissing him.

He smiled, warm and appreciative before leaning in to kiss me again, easing my shorts down over my aching erection to fall to the floor, and curling his fingers around me. Stroking, warm and teasingly slow, and I rocked up just a little into his touch, breath shuddering against his mouth.

"Come here," he whispered, tugging me a little closer to the bench. There was a bag on it - I assumed his - and he pulled something from a pocket, catching my mouth again, warm and intense as he urged one leg up, guiding my foot to rest on the bench, my knee pressed almost to my chest. I drew a sharp gasp as his fingers smoothed down the back of my thigh, cupping and massaging my sack gently for a few moments before moving back, pressed into the crease, stroking against my ass. He pressed gently at my opening, massaging, and the shiver of pleasure that brought made me whimper despite myself.

"Shhh..." he pressed a soft kiss to my bottom lip, fingers pulling away just long enough to come back wet and slick, massaging a little more firmly. "Just relax, beautiful... I won't hurt you."

I gave a soft, breathless laugh against his mouth at the ridiculousness of what he'd called me, but didn't have time to think more about it as a finger pressed carefully inside me, trying to press down against him, adjust to the penetration, craving more. "God...."

He added another finger, kisses swallowing my whimpers, free hand stroking me slowly, relaxing and arousing me all at once. It was uncomfortable, strange, but certainly not bad, no, not after everything I'd been through. And he felt so very good against me, warm and breathless, kissing me senseless so that by the time he eased a third finger inside me, starting to fuck me slowly with his fingers, I was to far gone to care if it ached.

"Please," I whispered again, almost urgently, and tugged at his shorts, pulling at the wet fabric. He pulled back enough to help me, letting the sodden cotton drop to the tile, then pressing a hot kiss under my ear.

"Turn around," he whispered, nipping ever so lightly at the lobe, green eyes watching me darkly as he pulled back. "Lean on your forearms against the wall."

I nodded, doing as he asked, and he pressed a soft kiss to my cheek, tugging my glasses off gently and setting them well away on the bench. He continued to drop soft kisses to my skin as his fingers curled around my hips, pulling them back a little, letting the length of erection rub against me slowly, then pressing the head against me, arching slowly to push against me just a little without taking me.

"Please," I whimpered softly, not caring if I was begging, trembling under him, craving him. Needing to feel this ecstasy. Drawing a sharp, shivering breath as he started to rock into me, my body protesting and clenching around him as I tried to relax and take him, gasping quickly, hands fisting on the tile. His fingers slipped back to my cock, stroking slow and firm, kisses warm on my neck.

"God, you're so tight...." he murmured, one arm wrapping around my waist as he continued to stroke me, pulling me back against him, rocking slowly until his hips sat flush with my ass, his cock so hard and deep inside me, so big, stretching me in a way that made my body ache with pleasure. He continued to kiss my neck, slow and warm, then started to rock slowly, pulling back and pressing deep, the heat and friction of it driving hot shudders of sensation up my spine. I tried to brace myself, tried to push back against him, eyes shut tight against the intensity of it, how damn good he felt.

"More," I managed to gasp, whimpering as his hips bucked into me, his arm tight around my waist to hold me in place. As he did he rubbed against -something- some sharp hot pleasure inside me, and it was all I could to not to cry out, angling back against him as sensation flooded through me, craving more. He nipped gently at the crook of my neck, breath hot and fast and moist against my skin, moving faster, harder into me, thrusts pushing my cock into his hand.

I let my cheek press to the tile, leaning my weight more in one forearm and reaching back to grab him with the other, pulling him against me, encouraging the force, the passion. Crying out softly despite myself as he answered the plea, fast and hard and raw, gasping wordlessly against my skin. So different, so very different and so very very good compared to just pleasing myself, and I could feel my climax build, exponentially harder and more intense, body shuddering as I was quickly pulled close. I hoped to god that the change room was still empty, because I couldn't keep quiet now, couldn't keep the helpless cries of pleasure from escaping my lips, my eyes shut tight against it. His fingers tightened around me just a little, and then I was climaxing, the pleasure of it pulling me to bliss, bucking back against him and shuddering as I came, every nerve in my body singing in the pleasure.

"That's it," he breathed, free arm tightening around me, and bucked up hard into me with a breathless cry, pleasure spilling hot and slick in my ass as he came to orgasm, gasping for breath. He didn't pull away, still holding me tightly as we both fought for breath, trembling lips pressing to my skin as he slowly calmed. Finally, carefully pulling away, and even then I couldn't keep from wincing, feeling raw and deliciously used, and I knew I'd ache for some time, a thought which brought with it a soft sense of satisfaction.

"Thank you," he murmured softly, embracing me as I turned to lean back heavily against the tile, kissing me softly. "That was really, really nice."

I managed a tiny nod, returning his kiss, fingers stroking lazily over his back. "No... thank you."

He gave a very soft laugh, pulling back just enough to look at me, eyes moving slowly over my features as he handed me back my glasses. "... don't even know your name."

I lowered my eyes, forcing a smile as I put them back on. "Perhaps it is better -- that way," I replied softly, then leaned in to kiss him gently. I could still hear the rain outside, but it was lessening, and I knew I didn't have much freedom left. "I need to leave.... I'm sorry."

He gave a slow nod, seeming almost disappointed, and wet his lips. "Will I see you again?"

I went to reply, then hesitated, pondering the question, the chances of this man still even being the same person when I saw him next. But perhaps.... "I will be here -- the next time it rains." I replied softly, and he smiled warmly, squeezing my hand gently before letting me go.

~~~~~~~~~