One Less Enemy

Days after the battle planning, the earth began to rumble. Slightly. But it set everyone on edge. Octavian went up to the caves to check on Rachel. A couple of the smaller rocks had fallen, but everything was just fine. Rachel was still painting. He snuck up on her and tickled her. She squeaked, and squirmed away, dragging a crimson streak across her painting. She glared at him, and dabbed his nose with the paintbrush. He stared at the dot, the grabbed another brush, dipped it in some cerulean paint, and dragged it across her face. She gasped, and they began to attack each other with the colors laughing and giggling. Somehow Rachel landed on top of Octavian. She looked flushed and excited, her lips pulled up into a beautiful smile. Suddenly she dove for his lips and began to kiss him, slowly pulsing her mouth. He sat up and placed a yellow hand on her back, pushing her towards him. The sat like that for a while; Rachel's legs wrapped around his waist, her hands tracing his collarbone, Octavian pushing her towards him, his hand tangled in her hair. He peeled his lips away, carrying her to the bed, setting her down before he tugged his shirt off and dropped his trousers. She tore off her shirt, revealing a lavender lacy bra. He crawled into the bed next to her, and undid her belt. He slapped her face lightly with it, tossing it away as he slowly unzipped the paint-spattered shorts and slid them down her creamy pale legs, and dropping them over the edge of the bed. She rubbed her leg against his. Octavian reached around and undid the clasp of her bra, letting the purple lace fall away from her soft breasts. He was about to reach out for them, but Rachel grabbed his hand and kissed it before letting it fall on her stomach. She rubbed his waistband, softly snapping it, teasing him. He sighed, and moved closer to her, his chest smushing her breasts. She kissed him, and pulled him close, allowing his hand to caress her nipple. She moaned loudly and whispered his name.
"Oh Octavian, you certainly know how to please a lady," she said, turning around so that they were flush to each other, and mumbled something before falling asleep.


When Rachel woke up, she was staring at Octavian's face. She'd somehow turned around in her sleep so that she could see his pale lips and pointed nose. She remembered when he'd first came, all sour and grumpy. His featured all contorted. Slowly he'd begun to notice her, staring at her from across the strawberry fields when he thought she wasn't looking. Rachel didn't know what had attracted her to him. She would never have fallen for a million years for someone like this. But here she was, 18, and sleeping with him, staring at his lips and how they tasted, when he woke up.
"Morning, firegirl," he said, sleepily, tracing her jawline until he reached her mouth with his finger. He touched the lower lip, and then went in for a slow, forceful kiss, driving his lips into hers, playing with her tongue with his. She pulled away, and stood up, her panties lower than her waist, but not low enough to show anything else. She smiled, pulled them up, and got dressed, wearing her customary Camp Half-Blood T-shirt and painted jeans. He lay there, watching her dress. She walked over, kissed him just above the naval before walking out of the bedroom. He sighed. How lucky was he?

Notes

This is a bit more intimate, but no sex. If you are bothered by that, then I discourage any reading, but if you are fine with it, then read on. :)